“She’s what? Why didn’t you stop her?”
Trent had held his phone away from his ear, but Sergeant Graves’s voice still rang in his ear. He hadn’t told her he’d tried to talk her out of it. What would be the point? The result was the same: Amanda was inside with a suspected serial killer.
He’d brought the sergeant up to speed, including a request that Dr. Wood be contacted at home. All of this had been five minutes ago.
What was taking Amanda so long?
Trent peered in the car’s rearview mirror at the house, tapping his hands on the wheel. He couldn’t just sit here if she was in trouble.
He turned the car off and jumped out. He’d tell Brock he received a call and him and Amanda needed to hit the road.
After knocking twice, with no sound of a dog barking or the man coming, Trent pulled his gun.
Something was way off. He tried the handle, but the door was locked.
He backed up and rushed at the door, putting his shoulder to it. No movement. Again, and this time it gave way.
“Trent?” It was Amanda’s voice calling out.
He was torn about whether to respond but he figured his breaking down the door would have already notified Brock of his arrival. “Where are you?”
“Bathroom, other side of the stairs. He’s locked me inside.”
Trent moved across the space, gun at the ready, ever cognizant of his surroundings. The door she’d indicated was shut and secured by a latch and closed padlock.
“I’ll get you out.” An epiphany could strike any minute… One did, but he wasn’t too excited about trying it out.
“He has the Reillys. Hurry.”
No pressure… “All right. Stand back from the door.”
“Okay, I’m tucked behind the cabinet. What’s going on?”
“There’s a padlock. I’m going to shoot it.” He got in position, extending his shooting arm, holding the gun pointed down at the padlock. Shut his eyes, drew some courage. Eased some on the trigger.
“Wait!”
“What?” His heart thumped, and he lowered his arm.
“Stand as far as you can to the side of the lock. If you’re in front of it, the bullet could ricochet back and hit you.”
He shimmied to the left of the handle, extended his gun arm again. “I’ve got it. All good.”
Thank God she warned me!
He fired off a round. Direct hit. The padlock slapped open. The bullet pinged toward the staircase. He resumed breathing.
The sound of the shot and it hitting the lock had been loud, though. He certainly wasn’t making a quiet entrance today!
Amanda emerged from the bathroom as his phone rang.
“Are you freaking kidding me?”
“Answer it,” Amanda told him. “I’m heading up.”
“Wait—” She was already up a few steps. Caller ID said Connor Wood. Trent answered, curious what the therapist might tell him. “Detective Stenson.”
“This is Dr. Wood. You should know that Joshua Brock is a dangerous and volatile man.”
Tell me something I haven’t figured out!
“Joshua served with a SEAL team on a mission in Syria nine months ago. Three members of his team returned stateside in coffins. He blames himself.”
Trent listened, unsure how this helped in the situation. But he trusted the therapist had been briefed on the urgency.
Dr. Wood continued. “The mission took him deep into a compound of insurgents. As the team’s leader, Joshua was responsible for ensuring intel was reliable. But he trusted the wrong people. He got close to a woman and her young daughter, Janna and Fatimah. They ended up leading Joshua and his men into an ambush.”
“I’m still not sure how this helps—” Trent wanted to move but felt locked in place for this conversation.
“Detective, Joshua is battling with severe PTSD. He has flashbacks, and he sees that woman and child everywhere. He might have… might have acted on urges of retaliation.”
“Every time he kills, he’s taking out the enemy?” Trent wasn’t sure if he was making proper sense of the therapist’s words.
“That’s right. And now I hear that Joshua’s wife and daughter may be dead. In my professional opinion, and in retrospect, Joshua may very well have killed them. His mind could have slipped back to Syria, to that insurgent mother and daughter.”
What the doctor was telling him explained the signs of affection and remorse at the burial sites, the reason he targeted women who were abused and took care of them. It also shed light on why he’d be hugging them one second and breaking their necks the next. “I’ve got to go. But thank you!”