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Back The Night Bird
Chapters (60)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. Dedication
  4. CONTENTS
  5. Start Reading
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. FROM THE AUTHOR
  59. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  60. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

“I have to go,” Frost repeated. “Thanks, Herb. Really.”

He hung up the phone, and he stood in the nighttime chill of the house. If the Night Bird wanted to get inside Frost’s head, he’d succeeded. Frost knew exactly where to look for Lucy.

She was in the backseat of a car near Ocean Beach.

That was where he’d found his sister’s body.

36

36

Near Ocean Beach, the thunder of the waves was unrelenting. Frost got out of his SUV and felt salty spray on his face. The long stretch of the Great Highway down the hill from Cliff House was deserted, but Frost could feel the Night Bird watching him. Somewhere in the darkness of the beach, or on the rocky trails of Sutro Heights above him, the man had binoculars to spy on his prey.

The stretch of sand here was wide, flat, and seemingly endless, like a cold imitation of Santa Monica. He shivered as the damp chill got inside his bones. Across the street, he spotted one lonely car in the beachfront parking lot. It was an imperial-blue Chevy Malibu. This was no accident; the Night Bird had done his research. Katie had driven the same kind of car.

He ran the vehicle plate. The car had been stolen three days ago. It was all part of the plan.

Frost called for backup, but he didn’t wait for the sirens. He had to know. Ocean wind screeched in his ears, and a headache pounded behind his eyes. He crossed the street toward the Malibu, just like he’d done once before, when a mysterious phone call took him here. In the middle of the night. Six years ago.

Are you looking for Katie?

Yes, I am. How did you—

She said she’s waiting for you at Ocean Beach.

What? Who is this?

A cloud of sand rose off the beach and blew grit into his face. White surf undulated from the water. His chest felt heavy. Time drew out, making each step a journey against an invisible tide. He didn’t want to get there. He didn’t want to see what was waiting for him.

Streaks of mud crusted over the car’s blue paint. He saw a single sentence scrawled in the dirt of the rear window. The same awful question.

What’s your worst memory?

Frost remembered everything about that night. Every sensation was tattooed on his brain. The blue-and-green wool of the blanket in the backseat, covering Katie. The cool metal of the door handle. Her torso spilling out, head nearly severed, blood everywhere, like a red ocean. The wail of his own screams.