Chapter 14

The doorbell pealed, and Candace jumped, startled at the loud ring. She rubbed her burning eyes and sat up, smoothing her tangled hair off her face. Had she locked the door? She couldn’t remember. She’d been so exhausted when Detective Breacher left, she’d stumbled to the couch and lay in a daze as disjointed memories of the attack pelted her.

Another ring was accompanied by loud rapping on the door. “Candace? Please open the door. It’s me, Aiden.”

She stilled. What was he doing there? She’d already given her statement to his partner.

The doorbell pealed again.

She pushed to her feet and stumbled down the hall. The security chain dangled, and her heart caught in her throat. She hadn’t locked the door! Anyone could've entered her house without her knowing. Anyone. She shuddered.

He knocked again, startling her out of her frightening thoughts. Inhaling a deep breath, she clasped the door handle and opened the door.

He stood on the small concrete porch. His hair was mussed as if he’d threaded his fingers through the glossy strands, and a lock of dark hair hung over his forehead. Drops of rain spattered his brown suede jacket. His golden gaze bore into hers, and he smiled. “Hi.”

Under the power of his thousand-watt grin, her tiredness vanished. “I didn’t expect to see you. Your partner just left.”

He grimaced. “Yeah. Sorry about that. Joe can be a bit rough around the edges.”

“A bit rough?”

The corners of his eyes crinkled, and he laughed.

She chuckled but winced at a sharp jab of pain in her neck where her attacker had crushed her throat.

His laughter stopped, and he frowned. “You’re hurting. I’m sorry.”

Their gazes met and held, as a thousand unsaid words exchanged between them, words neither could speak aloud.

He leaned closer, and she read the need in his heated gaze.

The sudden desire to kiss him overwhelmed her, and she moistened her lips. A car horn tooted, and she jerked her head up.

A vehicle passed her house and turned into her neighbor’s driveway.

Aiden cleared his throat, stepping back two paces, looking like a boy caught stealing candy from the corner store. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words emerged.

She exhaled the breath she’d been holding. “You’d better come in.” She gestured toward the open door.

Looking uncomfortable and guilty, he stepped into the house.

What the heck just happened? Had they really been about to kiss? No way. They hardly knew each other. She was vulnerable. That’s what was going on. After last night’s attack, she wasn’t thinking clearly. Who could blame her? She’d been assaulted and shot full of ketamine. For all she knew, the man who’d grabbed her could still be after her.

She shuddered and checked the neighborhood. Aiden’s black SUV was in her driveway, and other than her neighbor, who was unpacking bags of groceries from his car, no unfamiliar vehicles were parked on the street, and no strangers lurked in the shrubbery. At least no one she could see. A frisson of ice slid along her spine, and she hurried inside, closing and locking the door. She gestured for Aiden to follow her to the living room.

He slipped off his high-top white sneakers, left them on the mat by the door, and followed her. Shrugging out of his jacket, he folded it, draped it over the back of a chair, and settled on the couch. “I know my partner took your statement, but I have a few questions I’d like to ask you if you’re up to it.”

She remained standing by the window. “I don’t think your partner believes my account of the attack last night.”

“Did he say that?” His eyes widened, and a splash of red flushed his cheeks.

“Not in so many words, but his attitude made his thoughts pretty clear.”

“I know this must be difficult, but do you mind telling me what you remember from last night? Will you go over the details again?” Sincerity shone in his hazel eyes, making it clear he was on her side.

She sighed and sank onto a chair. “I don’t remember much.”

He nodded. “Just tell me what you do remember. Any detail, no matter how small, might help us catch this guy before he strikes again.”

“Do you think he will?”

“I do.” His gaze bore into hers. “If he’s the same perp who attacked that student a few weeks ago, and now you, he’ll do it again.” A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Unless we stop him.”

She inhaled a deep breath, and for the second time in less than an hour, recounted the previous night’s terrifying events, starting with leaving her office late, talking to the security guard, and walking to her car in the faculty parking lot. By the time she finished, her throat was raw, and she was drained. She stood on shaky legs and headed to the kitchen. “I need something to drink. Do you want some water?”

“Sure.” Jumping up, he followed her to the kitchen. He leaned his hips against the counter and threaded his fingers through his hair. A dark curl fell across his forehead.

For a brief second—the merest heartbeat—she forgot the previous night’s nightmare, forgot why he was there, and focused on that one glossy curl. She itched to touch the wayward lock, to feel its silkiness slip between her fingers. She stepped closer and raised her hand but froze at the sight of a vivid red bruise on her wrist, a stark reminder of why he was there.

Jerking away, she bustled about the tiny kitchen, getting glasses from the cupboard and filling both glasses with water from the tap. Retrieving ice cubes from the freezer, she plopped two cubes into each glass and handed him one, pleased her hand didn’t shake.

“Thanks.” He took a sip. “I’m not surprised you remember so little about the attack. Ketamine has that effect.” He drank more water, and then set the glass on the counter. “Is there anything you do remember? Even just an impression you got from the guy…anything at all?”

A foul taste filled her mouth. She drained her glass, but it wasn’t enough. Turning on the tap, she refilled her glass and drank again. “I think…maybe…” A chill rippled through her. “Just before I blacked out, he said something. At least, I think he did.”

Aiden’s gaze drilled into hers. “Okay. That’s good. Take your time.”

She rubbed her throbbing head, feeling the tender lump at the back of her skull where she’d hit her head on the unforgiving pavement when the man shoved her to the ground. “I was so frightened. His arm was pressing against my throat, and I couldn’t breathe. He held something sharp, a knife, I think, to my neck.” She touched the bandage on her neck, and then the small, bruised injection site. “I felt a sharp prick like a bee’s sting, and the next thing I knew, everything blurred, and I was so tired, I couldn’t keep my eyes open, couldn’t stand…” She swallowed back a sob. “Just before I passed out, he whispered something into my ear.”

As if she were watching a horror movie, the terrifying images flashed before her. The man’s sweaty stench, his hot, rancid breath, the suffocating pressure of his arm cutting into her throat… Tears sprang to her eyes and flowed down her cheeks. The sob she’d been fighting to hold back escaped. She remembered. “Oh my God!”

Hello, Candy Girl.

In the next breath, she was in Aiden’s arms, pressed close to his solid, reassuring warmth. Her tears dampened his shirt.

“It’s okay. No one’s going to hurt you. Not anymore. You’re safe now.” His soothing voice rumbled deep in his chest. He rubbed her back, holding her close. “We’ll find him.”

She closed her eyes and breathed him in…coffee, fresh spring air, male. For the first time in years, a feeling of safety and contentment filled her, and she burrowed into his strength as the tears flowed.

But instead of holding her, his body stiffened, and he loosened his embrace and backed away, putting three feet of space between them. A frown furrowed his brow, and his gaze focused somewhere over her shoulder. “I apologize. That was out of line.”

She shivered at the loss of the warmth of his muscular body. “I remember what the man said.” Grabbing a handful of tissues from the box on the counter, she wiped her tears.

He turned from the window and faced her. “Go on.”

“He knew my name.” Her breath hiccupped in her throat, and fresh tears stung her eyes. “He called me…Candy Girl.” Her knees gave out, and she collapsed on a kitchen chair and covered her face with her hands. “Only one person ever called me that name. Only one.”

“Who was that?”

She swiped at her tears with the back of her hand and tried to speak over the lump clogging her throat. “My sister. Charlene called me Candy Girl.” The room swirled, and she grabbed the table and held on, fighting the rush of painful memories. “You must know about her. The story was all over the news. She was kidnapped twenty-two years ago and held captive in a shed on a farm in the forest with four other girls. When the cops raided the farm, Charlene wasn’t there. The man who kidnapped her took her with him when he escaped.” She hiccupped a sob. “He…" She couldn’t finish, couldn’t speak aloud the terrible words. “No one has heard from her since.”

His eyes narrowed. “Are you sure you heard right? That’s what he said? He called you Candy Girl?”

“I think so.” She shuddered as she recalled the cruel voice whispering in her ear, the stench of stale cigarette smoke, the heat of his body… She met his gaze. “How could he know my sister’s secret pet name for me, unless—?”

Aiden held up his hand. “Hold on. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“But he called me Candy Girl. How could he know that name if Charlene didn’t tell him?” She swiped the back of her hand over her damp face. “He’s back, isn’t he? Isaiah’s back.” Her stomach roiled. The name was enough to strike terror into her heart and turn her into a quivering mess. For twenty-two years, Isaiah had been the monster of her nightmares, the reason she awoke in the middle of the night with her pillow damp, tears streaking her face, and her heart thudding.

The media dubbed the missing girls the Forgotten Five because it was months before the authorities realized a serial kidnapper was operating in the state. Investigators assumed the girls had run away. It wasn’t until Charlene vanished, leaving indisputable evidence that she’d been forcibly abducted, that the police connected the dots and realized the other four girls had been kidnapped as well. Some of the victims had been missing almost two years.

When the girls were finally rescued, they told the authorities that a man called Isaiah had kidnapped them and held them against their wills in that cold, dark farm shed, chained to metal stakes cemented into the ground. He’d repeatedly and viciously abused them until they’d given up hope of ever seeing their loved ones again.

The media was all over the story and featured the horrifying details of the Forgotten Five’s incarceration on every newscast. Four girls had been rescued from the monster. The country celebrated. Medals were awarded to those in command of the task force.

Four girls freed.

Not five.

One girl never made it home—her sister.

Candace lay awake at night wondering if Charlene was still alive, still being kept hostage, waiting for rescue. The cops believed she was long dead, her body buried somewhere in the wilderness, murdered by the man who took her. Candace refused to accept that. She and her sister had been close. She’d know if Charlene was deceased. Her gut told her she was still alive. And so, Candace hoped, prayed, and begged any god that might be listening to bring her older sister home.

Now she had proof. Finally. Charlene was alive!

The only way the man who attacked Candace and injected her with examine could know the secret name Charlene had called her was if Charlene told him. And the only way he knew Charlene, was if he was the one who took her.

Aiden cleared his throat. “I was a kid at the time, but the story of your sister and the other girls’ disappearances and subsequent rescue was all over the news. Reporters vied with each other to get the salient details. Maybe some reporter found out the pet name your sister called you and ran it on a newscast, and your attacker heard it.”

“But we didn’t tell anyone. Not—” She blinked back tears. “—not even my parents knew. It was our secret.”

A furrow formed between his dark brows. “Maybe Charlene told one of the other hostages, and when that girl was rescued, she told someone, and they told someone else. Briggston is a small town. People gossip. The whole Forgotten Five situation must’ve rocked this state to its core.”

He set his glass on the counter. “Think about it. Candy is a common diminutive of Candace. You’re a popular instructor. Everyone on campus knows your name. The fact that the creep who attacked you knew the name could mean he lives in the area and overheard people talking at Ed’s Diner or Marv’s Barber shop or the campus cafeteria.”

Her mind whirled. What he said made sense. She rubbed her aching temples, exhausted. Her eyes burned and her body was spent. All she wanted to do was crawl into her bed and forget last night’s attack, but she had to ask, had to speak the terrifying words aloud. “Do—” She swallowed. “—do you think there’s a possibility Isaiah has returned?”

His expression softened, and sympathy filled his hazel eyes. The truth was written in the soft expression on his handsome face.

“It’s okay. I get it. You don’t believe me. You’re like all the other cops. You think I’m so desperate to find my sister that I’m imagining things that don’t exist. You’re just like your partner.” Unable to fight a second longer, she laid her head on her arms on the table and closed her eyes, hoping he’d leave.

“You’re exhausted and upset.” He rested his hand on her shoulder. “No wonder, after the ordeal you’ve been through.”

The warmth of his large hand seeped through her shirt, heating her skin. She opened her eyes and lifted her head and met his golden gaze.

“I’ll look into this. I promise I won’t rest until we find this guy. You don’t have to be afraid.” He removed his hand. “Okay?”

She nodded because that was what he wanted, but a dark cold closed in, and an icy chill settled deep in her bones. No matter what he said, she knew the truth. The man who took her sister was still out there, watching, waiting… She shuddered and rubbed the goose bumps on her arms.

“Look, I know you’re tired, but I just have a few more questions.” His eyes softened. “Are you okay with that?”

Again, she nodded. The sooner he finished his questioning, the sooner she could collapse in bed.

“Great. Thank you.” He squeezed her shoulder. “There weren’t any fingerprints on the syringe, so we’re guessing the perp wore gloves. The lab techs found something interesting in the mixture of the drug he used.” He tugged out a notebook from his coat pocket.

She clasped her hands on her lap. “It was ketamine, wasn’t it? That’s what the doctor told me.”

His jaw tightened. “This wasn’t your typical club drug. The Special K sold on the streets has a different chemical signature. The drug you were injected with is the type of examine only sold to veterinarians. It’s a tightly controlled drug, and not easy to access without proper paperwork.”

“Are you saying I was injected with a drug meant for animals?” The throbbing in her head am ped up to an all-out tsunami of pain.

“The examine he used on you was examine hydrochloride, the pure pharmaceutical grade. Most examine sold on the streets in the US and Canada comes from Mexico. The dealers cut the examine with other chemicals to make the high greater and the drug more addictive. The examine that monster injected into you was pure.”

She rubbed her aching temples. Her brain felt as if it were stuffed with cotton, and his voice was muffled, as if it came from deep inside a tunnel. “What difference does the type of examine make? The doctor said the effects would wear off in a day or two, and I’ll be fine. Right?”

“We think your attacker could be a veterinarian, or someone with access to a vet clinic.”

“He’s a vet?” She jolted upright.

“It’s a definite possibility.” His gaze altered in on her. “Is that significant? Do you know any veterinarians?”

She lurched to her feet. “I need to lie down.”

Taking her not-so-subtle hint, he nodded and retrieved his coat from the couch and headed to the front door.

She followed him, fighting through the fierce pounding in her head, struggling not to collapse on the floor. Her attacker was a veterinarian. The terrifying words pelted her brain like a hail of bullets.

“If we learn anything new, I’ll be in touch.”

“Okay.”

He grasped the doorknob and opened the door. “If you remember anything else, please call me.” Tugging out a small card from his back pocket, he pressed it into her hand. “I mean it, Candace, call me any time. Okay? I’m going to get this guy. Believe me. I will.”

She nodded, but she wanted to grab him and haul him back inside. She didn’t want him to go, to leave her alone with her fears. Instead, she said goodbye. The second he stepped over the threshold, she closed the door and set all the locks and hit the alarm button. She stumbled down the hall to her bedroom and crawled into bed, tugging the covers up to her chin.

Candy Girl.

Shudders wracked her body, and she whimpered into her pillow, as the long-ago past reared over her like a coiled, venomous serpent.

No question now. Isaiah was back.