John would have missed the house if it hadn’t been for the yellow glow in the window. At first he thought he was imagining things. That maybe the dash lights were playing tricks on him. Then he saw it again. A flicker of yellow through the seemingly impenetrable wall of snow.

Headlights? Flashlight? Or fire?

Cutting the headlights, he stopped the Tahoe in the middle of the road. He tugged the Sig from his shoulder holster, pulled back the slide to chamber a bullet. Snow and wind bombarded him when he opened the door. Visibility was down to a few yards. He fought his way toward the house. Thirty feet in, he caught another glimpse of light. He nearly ran into the vehicle sitting in the driveway. Detrick’s Suburban, he realized. Immediately behind it, Kate’s Mustang was attached with some type of tow mechanism.

John slid his cell phone from his coat and dialed Glock. “I found them.” He could barely hear his voice above the scream of the wind. “The abandoned house near Killdeer.”

“I’m on my way.”

John dropped the phone into his pocket. He had no idea what to expect inside. But he had two things going for him. First, he knew Detrick kept his victims alive for quite some time. Second, the storm was the perfect cover.

CHAPTER 36

The first thing I’m aware of is that I can breathe. My mouth sags open. My tongue feels like a dry sock, but I suck in air by the mouthful. I smell smoke and kerosene. I’m laying on my back, my arms locked beneath me. I hear the wind outside, tearing around the house, a beast on a rampage.

I open my eyes to find Detrick over me. I see blood beneath his nose. The dark stain of it on his shirt. Everything that happened rushes back. The fight. The fire.

I raise my head and see that the fire is out. I feel the cold floor beneath my backside, and I realize my panties are gone. Detrick stands a few feet away. He’s removed his slacks, completely this time.

“Scream for me, Kate.” Crossing to me, he kneels and comes down on top of me. “Scream for me.”

I do the only thing I can manage and spit.

He stiffens, then his tongue snakes out and licks the spittle from the side of his mouth. I stare into his awful face. A face etched with unfathomable cruelty. I can’t believe my life is going to end this way. I can’t accept that. I won’t. The will to live rages inside me. Too powerful to be snuffed out. Too hot to be cooled. All I can think is that I’m not going to let him do this.

But hope is quickly dwindling. That precious lifeline has been severed. I’m alone in a raging sea with no chance of rescue.

Closing my eyes, I throw my head back and scream.

* * *

Blinded by snow and wind, John felt his way to the rear of the house. Twice he lost his footing and fell, but he never let go of the Sig or lost his sense of direction. The wind tore at his clothes as he went around to the back. He saw a porch, the screen flapping like laundry in the wind. Keeping low, he ascended the concrete steps and approached the door.