The forensic van arrived, as did three other cop cars behind it. He strode toward Captain Lee, who climbed out of his cruiser. Stubble covered his chin, he was not wearing a tie, and his legs moved as if his knees hurt. Most Texas boys had played football in junior high, high school, and, in some cases, college. By their midfifties, every tackle showed in their strides.

“What the hell happened?” Captain Lee asked.

“Detective Poe called me, told me she had received a call from a missing girl, and she came out here. She called for backup but beat us all here.”

“Drives like a bat out of hell.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Passed the rescue squad on the way in. How is she?”

“Unconscious.”

Captain Lee cursed. He rested his hands on his hips and sucked in a breath before pursing his lips. Spencer read the body language. The captain was doing his best to lock down his feelings.

Spencer spent the next few minutes updating Captain Lee on what he had found. The tire tracks, the footprints, and the discarded plastic expertly sliced up the middle.

Lee cleared his throat. “Same guy that killed the Jane Does?”

“It looks like it,” Spencer said.

“How the hell did Jordan get in contact with the victim?”

“She called her cell. Either spoke to her or left a message. The return call came around an hour ago.”

“I want every available body out here.”

“Already on their way.”

Casey tried to twist out of her captor’s iron grip as he dragged her back to her darkened room. Each time she struggled to break free, his fingers tightened in a bruising hold.

“How the hell did she find you?” he growled.

“Let me go, please,” she begged.

He opened the door and shoved her inside. He reached for the bag that held her clothes and searched each article until he found the phone in her coat pocket. “Two phones. Very clever.”

“Please, let me go.”

“I’m not done with you yet. We have to finish.”

“Finish what? Are you going to wrap me in plastic again?”

“Of course. We’ll have to start over from the beginning.”

The beginning. He had played with her for hours before he’d taken her to the house. She was not sure she could live through that again.

The door slammed hard. And the small light bulb above her head went out. She was plunged into darkness.

She ran her fingers over her face, remembering the weight of the plastic, the blistering panic, and the desperate hunger for air.