The kid had been in the house. Maybe even earlier that night.

Archie looked closer. The action figure had a Jolly Rancher on its lap.

Flannigan was still sitting on the floor, back against the wall. “What is it?” he said.

“I don’t know,” Archie said. There was something under the figure—a slip of paper. Archie slid it out and unfolded it. It was a credit card receipt from Aquarium World.

“I know where they are,” Archie said.

Chapter 51

CHAPTER

51

Roy could tell the reporter was afraid.

He liked it.

The boy hadn’t been afraid like that for a long time.

“Do what I want and I won’t hurt you,” he said to her, and he pushed her ahead of him toward the store’s aquarium display. Floodwater had seeped in from outside, and her boots smacked against the wet linoleum as she floundered forward.

“Is that what you told Patrick?” she asked.

The store’s power was off, and the moan of the generator running the tanks echoed through the room. The halide fixtures glazed everything with blue.

He turned to the boy. “I need a trickle filter,” he said. “An overflow box. A protein skimmer, and a couple of power heads.” The boy nodded and went in search of them.

The reporter turned and looked around. “So this is where you get your fish?” she asked.

He had been a faithful customer. Until the detective told him the store had given out his name. It was poor customer service. They deserved to be robbed.

“I need you to help me carry the tank,” he said. He took a step closer to her, but she backed away from him.

“You’ll have to untie me,” she said.

He took another step and she attempted to do the same, but he pinned her against a wall of freshwater tanks.

He put his face next to hers, nuzzling her neck, twisting his tongue around her wet hair, tasting it. “If you try to leave, I’ll punish him,” Roy whispered. He put his open mouth against her ear and licked his lips. “He cries when I punish him.”

He placed a hand flat against her chest and felt her heart fluttering under her breast, her nipple hard under his palm. Good. She was scared again.

If you wanted a loyal dog, the first thing you did was beat the hell out of it.

He pressed against her and reached around her hips with both his hands. He could feel the pant of her breaths against his neck, the wet knit of her sweater against his arms. He slid his hands down her arms to her wrists, and then untied her. She whimpered as he pulled the twine loose. He made sure she saw him drop it to the floor. He didn’t need it anymore.