“No one has seen him, heard from him or has any clue where he might hide out if cops happened to be looking for him,” Malone said.

“Good luck, guys,” Lindsey said. “I hope you find him fast.”

“Thanks.”

They did the full circuit again. Sam scanned every face on every sidewalk, looking for a needle in a haystack. They went back and interviewed the same friends and coworkers of Ramsey’s again, asking if they’d decided to do the right thing. They hadn’t. “They’re stonewalling us,” Sam said as the afternoon began to fade into evening and the others reported no luck with Ramsey’s family. “He’s told the people in his life that we’ve been harassing him. They’re not going to help us.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he’s had plenty to say about us.”

Sam glanced at the digital clock on Malone’s dash. Five forty-nine. She had an hour until she had to leave for the Capitol. She tipped her head back and racked her brain, trying to think of where he might be, reviewing every detail over and over and over again, until the facts of the case ran through her mind like a horror movie. Then it hit her. She sat up straight, as if she’d been zapped. “The park.”

“What?”

“Maybe he returned to the scene of his crimes to hide out.”

Malone reached for his radio to order as many officers as he could get to fan out for a grid search of the park, looking for Shane Ramsey.

It took thirty precious minutes to organize the search and send the officers on their way into the park with flashlights, K9s and infrared goggles that would help them see in the encroaching darkness.

Sam sat with Malone in his car, feeling guilty for the heat that kept them warm while their colleagues worked in the cold. Rank, her dad used to say, had its privileges. She took comfort in knowing that if it weren’t for her still-healing injury, she would’ve been out there with them, rank or not.

Forty more minutes went by, making Sam officially late for the reception at the Capitol, before one of the officers reported in. “I’ve got him. He has a woman with him. He’s stripped her naked and has a gun to her head. You can probably hear her screaming.” The officer gave the coordinates, and the Special Response Team went in to provide backup.

Sam walked with Malone into the park, following the path the SRT had taken. She wished she could walk faster, but fear of a setback kept her cautious. “What time is it?”

“Almost seven.”