Jordan tried the front door and discovered it was unlocked. She carefully pushed it open, pausing to look left, right, even up. There were no signs that there was anyone else in the house.

The bedroom doors were closed, making them the wild cards. She hurried toward the first, threw it open but saw nothing except cobwebs and an old cast-iron bed with no mattress. She hurried to the second door, pushed it, and inside saw empty boxes, a broken chair, and bags of trash.

Thud. The sound was softer now. The clock ticked faster.

Jordan moved along the wall, looked in the kitchen, and got her first full look at the woman. Her hands and feet were bound, she was gagged, and her body was fully wrapped in the thick plastic that had killed the other two women.

Wild eyes peered through the clear wrapping up at Jordan. Desperate, terrified, Casey moaned loudly, her screams muffled by the gag and the plastic.

Jordan rushed toward her, her heart pounding against her ribs with bruising strength. “Casey, is there anyone else here?”

Casey shook her head and strained her hands against the rope, using what reserves she might still have. Jordan holstered her weapon and knelt beside Casey.

Jordan’s first instinct was to tear at the plastic covering Casey’s face, but it was thick and double layered. She reached for a small pocketknife she always carried and flicked it open. The desperate hope in Casey’s gaze was palpable.

Police sirens wailed in the distance, and the lights of a cop car flickered faintly on the walls.

Jordan punctured the plastic near Casey’s shoulder with the knife tip and quickly pulled it upward, slicing the synthetic wrapping easily. She skimmed the blade past Casey’s left ear and up to her scalp. She nicked the woman’s cheek above her ear, but the little trickle of blood was a small price.

Jordan reached the top of Casey’s head, wiggled fingers in the opening, and peeled back the layers. Oxygen rushed Casey, and her nostrils flared as she greedily sucked in air. Her face appeared thinner than in her pictures, and her lips were tinged a light blue.

“It’s okay; I got you,” Jordan said.

She pushed back the remaining plastic from Casey’s face and, for the first time in a long while, felt like she had cheated death.

Next came the gag. It was a white T-shirt material, wadded into a tight ball and shoved deep in her mouth. Jordan grabbed the cotton and pulled it free. Casey coughed and tried to moisten dried lips with an even drier tongue.

“It’s okay,” Jordan repeated.

Casey sucked in a breath, letting out a scream that sounded more animal than human.

The police lights on the walls grew brighter. They’d be here in a minute or two.

“You’re safe.”