Ryan knocked on Cassie’s bedroom door with a tea in hand, the morning light streaming in the window at the end of the hall. He’d been wrong about a lot of things lately, and he was brave enough to admit it, but not about WITSEC. The thought of something going wrong, of Cassie in the hands of The Wolf, left a sinking sensation in his stomach.
He knocked again on the door. No answer.
“Cassie, I’ve got tea,” he said, listening intently. There were no annoyed groans, no sound of tired feet moving across the floor, nothing. His gut twisted. He set the tea down on a console table and knocked louder. Kate appeared in the hallway. “Cassie, if you don’t say something, I’m going to come in.” He exchanged a worried look with Kate and then barged into the room. His eyes darted from the bed, to the floor, to the window. It felt like the room was swallowing him whole. There was no Cassie. Only a dropped syringe, a white rose and an open window with blowing curtains.
“I’m going to call this in,” Kate said.
He touched her wrist. “I won’t be shut out of this investigation.”
“I’ll try my best, but you’re too close to this one.”
Ryan rubbed his eyes. He stared out the fourth-story window of the FBI field office in Portland. The midmorning sun filtered through the mini-blinds but did nothing to warm the conference room or his heart. His mind kept replaying Kate’s security cam footage of a man approaching the rear of her house from the river. A bold move in the dark with a storm raging. The image of the male was too grainy for a positive identification, even with the FBI’s world-class technology, but none of the federal agents doubted that it was The Wolf. Only an assassin as highly trained as The Wolf could pull off an abduction like that.
The door opened, and Ryan looked up. Special agent in charge, Walter Dunlack, marched in like the bulldog he was. What Walter lacked in height, he made up for in presence. His round, bald head and large jowls reminded Ryan of Sir Winston Churchill. If only the similarities extended beyond that, then maybe his old boss would have made a good leader.
Walter sat across the table from Ryan. “I should charge you with obstruction for the way you’ve handled this,” he said. “But, for old time’s sake, I’m not going to. However, I expect that you will stay out of this investigation. Because, trust me, if you so much as sneeze in the way of this case, I will have you hauled up on charges faster than you can spit.”
“Come on. I’m too involved in this for you to freeze me out now.” Ryan glared.
“You know the rules. Cassie is your girlfriend.”
“She’s my ex-girlfriend and has been for almost a year. I’m a decorated agent, and I have a deep understanding of all the players involved. I’m an asset, and you know it.”
Walter leaned back in his chair, making the springs groan in protest. “The FBI is not a revolving door, my friend. You don’t get to play small-town police officer one minute and an FBI agent when it suits you.” Walter looked at him shrewdly. “We’ve been talking for months about you coming back. Consider this decision time. Either you join my team permanently or not at all.”
And there it was, Walter’s underhanded play.
Ryan shook his head and stared up at the ceiling, concealing his thunderous thoughts; trust Walter to leverage a situation like this. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to be on the FBI team looking for Cassie, but there was a steep cost to remaining an agent beyond that. In the beginning, Ryan had loved working for the FBI, and he was good at it. He enjoyed hunting monsters. Nothing compared to the adrenaline rush of putting evil behind bars, but over time it had taken a toll. Especially when he lost; when he couldn’t get enough evidence to catch the killer before they struck again. There were no second chances in this line of work and being one of the best investigators didn’t mean much when you couldn’t save them all.
Walter rose from his chair. “Well, if that’s your answer, don’t forget to leave your visitor’s badge at the front desk on your way out.”
“Wait,” Ryan said. “Will you guarantee that I’ll be on this case?”
“I’ll let you stay on the periphery of it, but that’s it.”
“I can live with that,” Ryan said, blinking back his anger. “Now, why don’t you fill me in on what the team has come up with?”
Sitting back down, Walter leaned forward. “The tox screen on the syringe you found at Kate’s has come back in. We’ve confirmed that Cassie was drugged with a heavy sedative, and we have good reason to believe that she’s still alive.”
“What else?”
“You’re familiar with the rest area beside the Halsey Bridge just north of Kate’s place?” Ryan nodded. “This morning, agents discovered a small fishing pontoon boat abandoned on its shores, and we caught a break. Some bird-watchers had set up a couple of webcams in the bridge’s upper girders. The footage isn’t great, but we think we can place The Wolf coming down the river at about 9:30 p.m., and then at about 9:45 p.m., a silver Volvo with one burned-out headlight crosses the bridge.”
“The Wolf?”
“Or coincidence, we can’t say for certain.”
Something stirred within Ryan. “Can I see the footage of that and for the nearby highways?”
Walter looked at him skeptically. “The team assigned has come up with nothing. There’s no proof it’s The Wolf driving that car. I’d be sending you on a wild-goose chase.”
“It keeps me out of your hair.”
“Not that I have much of that,” Walter said, picking up the conference room phone and calling IT.
Birds chirped loudly. The noise stabbed through Cassie’s temple like an ice pick. She pulled her pillow over her ears and felt the scratchy mattress beneath her. Where am I? Her thoughts quickly flew to her last memory, sending her heart slamming into her chest. She jumped up from the bed, making her head pound even harder. The sound of metal scraping against metal and a tug on her lower calf forced her to sit back down. What’s on my leg? Cassie’s hands moved to her left ankle and ran over the metal cuff that chained her to a handrail bolted to an adjacent wall near the floor. She pulled against the restraint, only to hear the metal links sing against each other. Her eyes widened with panic. Instinctually, she yanked and thrashed the chain to no avail.
Cassie sank onto the edge of the mattress, feeling defeated and praying for calm. Memories of last night—of Ryan’s hand in hers—flitted through her mind. She took a deep breath. If Ryan were here, what would he do? Cassie looked around her. He would break the situation down into facts.
So what did she know? She was in a large rectangular bedroom. The walls were bare, and the only furnishings besides the antique iron bed was a small round table. Cassie got up, tested how far she could walk and found that she could move fairly freely about the room. Just not close enough to reach the interior door on one side of the room or the window on the opposite wall. She stared again at the window. The blinds were beyond her reach and tilted just enough to allow light in, but perfectly angled so that the outside world remained obscured.
The door creaked, and Cassie spun around. The Wolf stood in the open doorway to her room, his hands laden with a tray and a canvas.
Her heart locked in terror. She looked to the exterior window but knew it offered no escape. Her gaze flew back to his. Get it together, Cassie, she thought to herself, or he’s going to kill you. A slow smile spread across The Wolf’s face.
“Where am I?” Cassie demanded, standing tall.
“Such a typical question. Do you really think I’m going to answer that?”
“No.”
“Well then,” he said, putting the tray and canvas on the table and standing back, “come and look. I brought you an early Christmas gift.”
Cassie didn’t move. Her pulse thundered in her ears, but she held her ground.
The Wolf tutted his tongue. “You’re a smart girl,” he said. “It’s one of the things I admire about you. Don’t make this difficult on yourself.”
Cassie thought about charging him, about lashing out, but where would that get her? She was as much a captive as any inmate held in a high-security prison. Pushing down the hollow feeling inside, Cassie walked toward the table but remained silent.
“I understand your disdain,” he said, his voice soft. “It took far longer to find you than even I expected. Maybe you thought that I didn’t appreciate your sketches of me?” He moved to stand beside her. “Or that I wasn’t looking for you at all? Please, don’t be mad.” The Wolf stroked her cheek. “The Marshals stole you away from me. But I made it my mission to find you, my sweet.”
“I’m not your sweet.” Cassie swiped his hand from her face, and just as quickly he grabbed her wrist.
“You’re trying to provoke me,” he said, malice flashing in his eyes. “I’ll advise you not to do that. I’d prefer not to rush our time together.” His gaze softened. “Come, now. Let’s look at what I brought you.”
On the table was a beautiful set of art brushes with high-quality paints, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. “What do you want from me?”
He took pictures from his coat pocket and set them on the table. “Your next masterpieces.”
Cassie twisted away, but he gripped the nape of her neck and forced her to look.
The top photo wasn’t as awful as she had expected. It was of a young woman. Her long, dark brown hair lay outstretched around her, with perfect white roses entwined within it. She lay artfully posed on the ground in a garden. The woman looked peaceful, like she had decided to take an unexpected nap.
“Beautiful, isn’t it,” The Wolf said, breaking into Cassie’s thoughts.
“Is she dead?”
“Yes.” A smile turned the corners of his lips. “She was the first that I set free from this earth.”
Cassie struggled for words over the knot in her throat. There were far more than three photos in the stack. How many women had he killed that the FBI didn’t know about? “Who is she?” Cassie asked, wanting to gather as much information as she could.
“Olivia Cosay,” he said, tenderly touching the edges of the photo.
The name didn’t ring any bells for Cassie, but to someone, this girl was family. “I don’t understand how you can be The Wolf and then do something like this? One murder so callous and the other...”
He shrugged. “Everyone has to pay the bills,” he said, “but these girls are my loves.” A brilliant smile spread across his face as he looked to Cassie. “I want you to paint them for me.”
“No.” The word came out before she thought about it.
“Don’t be jealous,” The Wolf threatened when his cell phone rang. He looked down at the number and sighed. “It’s work.” He turned to leave but stopped in the doorway. “I will be back, Cassie,” he said pointedly. “Behave until then.”
She ran at him, but her leg shackle made her come up short. The Wolf just chuckled and closed the door behind him. Within moments, an engine sputtered to life and took off down the driveway.
Ryan noted that it was starting to get dark as he flicked on the windshield wipers and cleared off the dusting of snowflakes. He sighed. Part of him worried that this was a fool’s errand, but something in his gut assured him it wasn’t. During his search of the highway cam footage, he had discovered the gray Volvo with one burned-out headlight near Frog Lake on Highway 26. Then through various cameras, Ryan had followed the car on its journey south until it turned off in the small city of Pine Springs. While there was no way to know for sure who the driver of the Volvo was, Ryan felt certain it was The Wolf.
He parked his unmarked car in the parking lot at Hanley’s and stepped out, filling his lungs with crisp winter air. The last grocery store on his list had turned up nothing. Coming here, a gas station with a small mini-mart attached, was a last-ditch effort. He didn’t have much hope for a lead, but he had time to kill before hitting the town diners during dinner rush and asking questions there.
Ryan glanced at his watch. His throat tightened. Yesterday, at this very moment, he’d been playing darts with Cassie. Ryan pushed his thoughts to the back of his brain. He needed to focus. The longest The White Rose Serial Killer had kept anyone alive was five days.
Ryan pulled open the spotless glass door, setting off an electronic beep that produced a teenage clerk from the cooler.
“Can I help you?” the young man asked.
“I hope you can.” Ryan pulled out his badge, and the boy’s eyes grew big. “I’m looking for someone.” He produced a replica of the sketch Cassie had done of The Wolf all those years ago. “Have you seen anyone that looks like this man? He may have altered his appearance some.”
“No, can’t say as I have,” the boy said.
“Anything unusual or out of the normal routine happen in the last few days? Even if it seems unimportant,” Ryan asked patiently. “Sometimes, the smallest things can break a case.”
The boy’s lips twisted while he thought. “Well,” he said, “it’s probably nothing. But the only thing that’s been odd is Peggy.”
“Peggy?”
“Ya, Peggy has a nice cottage out near the Deschutes River. Mostly rents it out in the summer, but occasionally in the off-season, she’ll rent it out for longer. When that happens, Peggy usually pops into the store after she does a walk through with a tenant. She drops off a spare set of keys and has me keep an eye on the place. She lives over in Bend, and it’s a pain for her to get over here all the time.”
Ryan narrowed his eyes. “Keep an eye on the place? What does that mean?”
“You know, she slips me some cash, and if something goes wrong maintenance-wise, I take care of it. They call her, and she calls me. Anyways, she stopped in the store before she went up there to show the place on Monday, and she never came back to drop off the spare keys or cash.”
“Maybe she didn’t rent it out.”
The boy shook his head. “She must’ve because Fred has seen a car come and go from her place.”
“Did he happen to tell you what type of car?”
“I believe it was some sort of Volvo.”
“Can you jot down that address? I think I’d like to check that out.”
Cassie stared at the handrail, getting down on all fours to look at how it was anchored to the wall. There had to be some way of getting out of this, she thought, but nothing she had done so far had worked. God, what am I supposed to do? Disheartened, Cassie sat on the floor and leaned against the bed, her spine striking the metal from the side rail.
A thought ignited.
She sprang to her feet and pushed the mattresses onto the floor. Her eyes riveted to the two iron tongue-and-groove side rails that held the foot-and headboards in place. Wasting no time, Cassie yanked on one of the bars until it clattered onto the floor, then carried it over to the handrail. With a determined heave, she jabbed her makeshift tool into the floor between the wall and the rail. Her hands slid to the top of her pry-bar, and she worked it back and forth until screws began to pop and the handrail fell onto the hardwood.
Heart racing, Cassie slid off the part of her leg shackle that was attached to the rail. The other half of the restraint was still around her ankle, but there was no time to deal with that. Instead, she shoved the photos into her jeans pocket and bolted for the door, the chain trailing noisily after her.
When she reached the end of the hall, Cassie didn’t stop. She saw the outside door on the other side of the living room and charged. Her fingers flew to the locks, and the door swung open. Excited, Cassie leaped out onto the cement front stoop when burning cold stabbed through her bare feet, making her scramble back inside.
The door stood open before her, and frustrated tears sprang to her eyes. All she could see beyond the house’s clearing was trees, upon trees, upon trees. Her stomach sank. She was in the middle of nowhere with darkness settling in, and temperatures that would soon be dropping. She wasn’t a fool. Eyeing the snow, Cassie knew hypothermia was as real a threat as The Wolf.
She retreated into the house, and glanced around the living room, looking for anything that could help her. Cassie’s gaze froze. Just above the arm of an overstuffed sofa, she could see tufts of curly, white hair. Her heart thudded. Slowly, Cassie rose onto her tiptoes, peering over the back of the couch. An older woman lay there, perfectly still.
“Hello?” Cassie said.
There was no response.
Cassie moved beside her, saying a quiet prayer. She brushed aside the gold chain at the woman’s neck that read ‘Peggy,’ and checked for a pulse. The woman’s chilled skin spoke the answer before her lack of a beating heart did. Cassie let out a silent scream.
She had to get out of here. Her eyes locked onto a closet. Ripping it open, she discovered a large pair of men’s boots along with a heavyweight flannel coat. Good enough. Cassie plunged into the winter gear and raced out the door. Her feet slid awkwardly inside the oversize boots, making her more stumble than run down the front flight of steps.
She darted down the snowplowed driveway as a gray Volvo started to turn in. Quickly she veered off toward the protection of the trees, deftly ducking into them. Had he seen her? Cassie ran, her boots crunching loudly through the wet snow until she popped out where the trees bordered the road. She looked as far as she could in both directions, hoping to see smoke from a chimney or a plowed driveway, but there was nothing except wilderness. Her chest tightened, the cold air stinging the back of her throat. There wasn’t a single clue as to which way held civilization and which led her deeper into the snarling forest.
A whine from an engine blared to life. Cassie froze. The sound was coming from the direction of the cottage.
With her heart beating wildly, she ran back into the woods that bordered the line of the road. She darted between the trees, but the ground began descending into a slushy, wet mess. It sucked at her huge boots, making her feet slide inside them, slowing her down. Her pulse hammered in her ears. She recognized that engine sound now. An ATV was maneuvering through the woods, stopping and starting, probably searching for her tracks in the dark.
She pushed herself to move faster, but without streetlights, night was falling hard, making it more difficult by the second to see where she was going. Cassie glanced over her shoulder.
A light was darting between the trees. Suddenly, it steadied, and the ATV’s engine began to rev with a challenge.
Run.
Cassie’s muscles, cold and tired, didn’t want to cooperate. Her mind was moving much faster than her limbs, filling her with panic. She scurried awkwardly up an embankment and across the road into the woods on the other side.
The ATV engine roared louder. Suddenly, a spotlight lit up the world around her. Her shadow now lay in front of her on the white, glittering snow. There was no way she could outrun an ATV. Cassie spotted some denser brush and darted toward it, hoping to force him off his vehicle.
A shot blasted into the night, tearing a whimper from her lips.
Cassie looked behind her when she slipped on some ice, sending her careening over a fallen log. Her shin burned, and then she was rolling, rolling down a hill. Sticks tore at her flesh while rocks pounded her head and back. In a battered mess, her body stopped at the bottom of the slope. She lay perfectly still, the world spinning around her.
A spotlight began darting in an irregular pattern over the ground. Somewhere, Cassie registered that she should get up and move, but her limbs lay motionless.
The light landed on her. So bright.
She closed her eyes, turned her head and vomited in the snow.
Footsteps thumped down the hill.
“Why do you insist on doing things the hard way?” The Wolf asked.
The road had been long and winding, making Ryan thankful when the GPS said he had arrived at his destination. It was one of a handful of cottages located on this side of the Deschutes River. It was supposed to be the second phase of a planned resort community, but when the economy had turned sour, people had stopped buying, and this half of the development lay deserted and abandoned.
He parked his car across the end of a long driveway, thankful for the trees that obscured his vehicle from the cottage. Noting the recently plowed drive, Ryan moved cautiously toward the house with his flashlight tucked down. Cassie was here. He could feel it in his bones.
Ryan rounded the bend and flicked off his flashlight. A white cottage stood in a small clearing, with a dim glow coming from around the edges of its closed blinds. The yard, blanketed in white, looked clean of debris except for an old farm tractor parked near the house. Off to the right stood a detached wooden garage that looked like it had been built as an afterthought. Ryan pulled his gun from its holster and crept over to the garage. Quietly, he moved down the side of the building and found an old single-paned window next to the side access door. Rubbing the frost off the glass, he shone his flashlight inside—a silver Volvo.
A loud screech came from the house. Ryan sunk low, put his back to the garage and slid to the corner of the building. From this vantage point, he could see the cottage’s back door where an ATV sat parked near its steps.
Something was up, and whatever it was, Ryan felt confident that it was nothing good. He studied the cottage, but there were no obvious signs of what was going on inside the house. What he needed was to get a closer look. Ryan kept low, then dashed behind an overturned aluminum boat not far from the garage.
The back door light flicked on, making Ryan’s breath catch. He gripped his gun tighter, ready for whatever came next.
The Wolf materialized at the top of the back steps. He cast a stony glance over the clearing, then warily grabbed a jerrican off the ATV rack and disappeared back into the house.
Ryan fought to remain where he was. Part of him wanted to bury every last bullet he had into The Wolf, but what if Cassie wasn’t inside the house? What then? He felt sick to his stomach, knowing a dead Wolf couldn’t talk. He ducked down and darted back to the side of the garage and pulled his cell phone from his pocket. Before he could change his mind, he began dialing.
“Special Agent Dunlack,” Walter said briskly.
“It’s Ryan. I was right about Pine Springs. The Wolf is here.”
“What’s your location?”
“4209 East Deschutes Road.”
There was a muffle of voices, and then Walter spoke again. “We’re thirty minutes out by chopper. I’m contacting local authorities for quicker assistance. Hold your position until they arrive.”
The large metal garage door whined open. Ryan peered around the corner. The Wolf was advancing toward him, past the old tractor, each shoulder harboring large duffel bags.
“I don’t think that’s going to be possible. The Wolf’s on the move,” Ryan said, cutting off the call. He scooted back along the wall and expected the side access door to be locked, but it opened easily. Adrenaline, coupled with controlled rage, coursed through his veins as he threw open the door and yelled, “FBI. Freeze.”
Visibly shocked, The Wolf purposefully dropped the bags at the rear of the car.
“Well, look who’s stopped by for a visit. Ryan, isn’t it?”
Ryan steadied his gun on The Wolf. “Hands in the air, turn around and on your knees.”
The Wolf didn’t move. “Did you like the drive out here?” he asked. “Personally, I enjoy the woods. And out here, it feels like they’re never-ending.”
“I said, hands in the air and on your knees.”
The Wolf sighed. “You feds are no fun at all.” With slow robotic movements, he dropped first to one knee and then the other.
“Hands in the air!” Ryan yelled, shaking his gun.
Rolling his eyes, The Wolf raised his arms, and Ryan cautiously stepped forward.
“You probably think Cassie’s here, don’t you?”
A drop of fear slid into Ryan’s stomach, threatening to ignite, but he kept his face neutral.
The Wolf ran his tongue over his teeth, his eyes turning dark. “You do, don’t you?” He laughed. “Why would I keep Cassie here, in a place that is so warm and comfortable?” His eyes closed thoughtfully. “That just wouldn’t do. Women are always more cooperative when they want something. Tell me, Ryan, how long do you think it’ll take before Cassie freezes to death out there?” He exhaled, letting his breath turn into a white vapor. “It’s very cold out tonight.”
“Shut up and get on your belly,” Ryan snarled through gritted teeth. The Wolf didn’t move, and Ryan took one step closer. “I said—”
With lightning speed, The Wolf leaped toward Ryan’s gun, knocking it into the air. A bullet pinged wildly off metal, ricocheting through the garage. Brutally, The Wolf slammed into Ryan’s chest, stealing his breath and toppling them both onto the ground. Locked together, the two rolled on the dirt floor. Ryan struggled to deliver more blows than he received, but The Wolf was a well-trained fighter. Blood dripped into Ryan’s eye when sirens began to blare in the distance. With a well-placed kick, Ryan knocked The Wolf off of him.
“Where is Cassie?” Ryan said, throwing a punch. The Wolf twisted and rolled over the trunk of the car, his hands pulling a gun from a bag on the far side that Ryan hadn’t seen.
Scrambling for cover, Ryan ducked behind a metal workbench. The Wolf fired rapid successive shots, keeping Ryan pinned, while he backed toward a woodpile that lined the edge of the garage.
Hunkered low, Ryan noticed his gun lying exposed on the dirt floor. He reached for the weapon when a gunshot exploded a jerrican of fuel next to the woodpile. A whoosh of flames devoured the dry wood. The fire spread quickly, licking up the walls and shedding an oppressive heat that squeezed Ryan’s lungs, making him choke for air. He had to find Cassie.
Gaining his footing, Ryan raced out of the garage. The Wolf had almost reached the ATV. There was no way he was letting The Wolf escape, not when Cassie’s life hung in the balance. With cold efficiency, Ryan dropped to his knee, leveled his gun and fired. The shot missed, but The Wolf changed direction and dove behind the old John Deere tractor.
Ryan realized he was exposed and flattened to the ground, rolling back behind the overturned aluminum fishing boat.
“You’ve got nowhere to run,” Ryan yelled.
“That’s okay. I’m happy to sit here. We can listen together as our girl burns.”
Ryan’s heart clenched in his chest.
“You’re lying. You said she was in the woods.”
“Was I lying then, or am I now?” The Wolf extended his hand, and Ryan heard the car locks click into place. “It’s impossible to know for sure, but I’m telling you, she’s in that trunk. Can’t say that I’ll promise to wait while you check.”
The heat from the fire burned hot against Ryan’s back.
“You can have the girl or you can have me, but you can’t have both.”
Ryan squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t risk it. Carefully, he retreated backward into the garage.
The ATV revved to life while Ryan took a hammer from the workbench and smashed the car window. He covered his nose with his arm, coughing on the black smoke, and yanked open the car door. Heat scorched his skin as he crawled into the back, but he wouldn’t stop. Fearlessly he ripped down the split seat.
His heart swelled into his throat.
Cassie lay unconscious, bound and gagged.
With a strength Ryan hadn’t known he possessed, he pulled her bloodied body out of the trunk and cradled her in his arms. Fire now fully engulfed the building. They had to get out of here and fast. He held Cassie close to his chest and ran. When they reached the garage door, a nearby shelf containing old fertilizers, paint thinners and bug killers exploded, throwing them out of the burning structure.
Ryan held his head, his ears ringing when he realized that Cassie lay sheltered underneath him. He rose to his knees, barely aware that backup had arrived in a blaze of flashing lights.
“Cassie!” He shook her.
No response.
He gently touched her bloodied and bruised head, panic gripping his heart. Ripping off her gag, Ryan tore open her coat and lowered his cheek to her nose, watching her chest for any movement. Tears mixed with soot as emergency personnel approached them. Single-minded in his task, Ryan couldn’t hear what they were saying and batted them away with his hand. Cassie, breathe, just breathe. It felt like an eternity until her chest moved. Thank God.
“Someone get a medic!” Ryan yelled.