Chapter 29

Aiden sat in his car and stared at Candace’s house as he fought to slow his heart rate. The FBI was taking over the case the following day. His case. He punched the steering wheel. The second the Feds rolled into town, they’d swan into the precinct in their fancy suits and ties and take charge. The next thing he knew, he’d be standing on the sidelines twiddling his thumbs, picking the hay seeds out of his hair. He bit hard on the inside of his cheek. Well, the Feds weren’t there yet. This was still his case, and he had a witness to protect.

He shoved open the door and jumped out of the car, slamming the door so hard the SUV shook. The loud bang provided some satisfaction. His case. The affirming words rang through him. Damn right it was. He straightened his jacket and threaded his fingers through his hair and strode up her walk and jammed his finger on the doorbell.

The familiar peal echoed from behind the solid wood door.

He waited, tapping his shoe on the concrete porch.

No answer.

He rang the bell again.

Nothing.

The hairs on the back of his neck stiffened. Her car was in the driveway, so she had to be home. Besides, he’d told her not to leave the house. Maybe she was sleeping, or in the shower, or…

Knowing full well she’d have the door locked and bolted, he twisted the door handle anyway, but reeled back on his heels when the door opened. What the hell? The ping in his gut morphed into a giant punch.

He reached under his jacket and slipped out his service revolver. Heart pounding, he pushed the door open wider and stepped inside. All three locks were undone, and the alarm was off. Sweat popped out on his forehead. He stilled his rapid breathing and listened. The refrigerator hummed, a clock ticked somewhere in the house, but the loudest sound was the echoing silence of an empty house.

A dozen scenarios ran through his brain. Maybe she’d run to the store. No. She would have had to drive, and her car was still parked in the driveway. Or, she’d run out of coffee and stepped out to borrow some from a neighbor. Possible, but he’d told her to stay home and keep her doors locked. She was a smart woman. She knew there was a chance she was being watched, that the man who’d attacked her could strike again. She wouldn’t have left the house, and she certainly wouldn’t have left her door unlocked.

No way.

Not willingly.

He tightened his grip on the gun and edged down the hall and into the living room. The television was on, the sound muted. A stack of student papers was on the table by the couch, a mug of what looked like coffee, with a greasy film of cream congealed on its surface, beside it. A red marking pen lay on the carpet in front of the couch.

Heart racing, adrenaline pumping, he moved through the small townhouse, clearing one room after the other, ending with the kitchen.

And that’s when the full horror of the nightmare hit.

Shards of broken glass littered the floor. A chair was overturned, and a picture of Candace and her sister that had hung on the wall beside the stove, lay on the floor, the glass cracked. The matching long black hair, light-blue eyes, and smiling faces of the two girls stabbed like a knife to his chest.

Something bad had happened in this room, something violent, something he should have been there to stop. He’d let her down. He wasn’t there when she needed him. Candace trusted him, and he’d failed her.

He surveyed the room, and his shoes crunched glass, but he was careful to not contaminate the kitchen. She was the most cautious person he knew. She’d never let a stranger into her house. Never. But there were no signs of a break in, and the alarm wasn’t set. So, what happened? More importantly, where was she?

He fished out his phone and called for backup. What the hell? His hand was shaking. It was his job to protect her, but if he were honest with himself, her safety was more than a job. So much more. He didn’t know if he could live with himself if something happened to her. No matter what the fallout, he’d do whatever it took to find her. He just prayed the perp had left something behind, some piece of evidence that would indicate where he’d taken her.

****

Aiden winced and rubbed his burning gut as he slurped bitter coffee. How many cups had he drunk tonight? Six? Seven? The astringent taste of acid filled his mouth. Probably more. Probably a lot more. But still he downed the hot coffee, even the dregs. If he was going to get through this nightmare, he had to stay alert and on top of his game.

Somehow, someone had entered Candace’s house and abducted her. The fact she hadn’t gone willingly was reinforced by a bloodied steak knife, a smear of blood the crime scene techs had found on a kitchen drawer, and the broken glass, fallen picture, and overturned chair.

They weren’t certain the blood was Candace’s. They’d have to wait for analysis back at the lab to know that. Maybe she’d fought back against her attacker, and the blood drops were from the perp. That’d be one way to track the bastard down. If he’d ever been incarcerated, arrested, served in the armed forces, or worked for a police department, they’d have him. He rubbed the burn in his gut. This wasn’t the movies, and cases were never solved that easily.

The cops had been there for hours. They’d questioned the neighbors and scoured the neighborhood for evidence, but no one had seen anything unusual.

One neighbor, an older lady who lived across the street, thought she saw a young woman knocking on Candace’s front door, but she was watching her favorite game show and hadn’t noticed if Candace opened the door to the woman or not. She didn’t notice anything unusual about the young woman.

There’d hadn’t been any cries for help, no suspicious activity, nothing…just a normal, quiet Sunday night.

The alarm company’s records indicated the alarm had been turned on when Aiden left the house hours earlier, but an hour later, someone had turned off the alarm, using the appropriate code. It hadn’t been reset.

She’d disarmed the alarm. Had she been forced to? It was the only scenario that made sense. The back door was locked up tight, all the security in place, but the front door was unlocked. The perp must’ve entered and left by the front door. He’d risked a neighbor or someone passing by on the street seeing him. But no one had, so his gamble paid off.

Aiden scrubbed the back of his neck. Somehow the perp had taken Candace out of the house without anyone seeing him. She wouldn’t have gone willingly, and she would have fought, unless… His heart stuttered. Had the attacker used examine on her again? The questions, one after the other, raged through his aching brain. What the hell happened? Where was she?

His phone rang, the loud peal breaking through his turmoil. He fumbled the phone out of his jacket pocket, glanced at the screen, and frowned. “What the hell do you want?” He spit out the words through clenched teeth.

“Hey, don’t bite my head off.”

“Sorry.” This disaster wasn’t Joe’s fault. No, this fiasco rested squarely on Aiden’s shoulders. He’d messed up. He’d left a key witness alone and vulnerable. He just prayed to whatever gods were listening that Candace wouldn’t pay the ultimate price for his mistake.

“You still at the house?” Joe asked.

“Yeah.” He didn’t know why he was still there. The crime-scene techs had left long ago, and other than a uniformed officer stationed at the front of the house to protect the scene, he was alone. He should be doing something, anything but standing there beating himself up. But what the hell could he do? There weren’t any clues, no suspects to track down, no leads, nothing. That feeling of helplessness filled him with a fury so strong it was all he could do not to smash his fist into the wall.

“Well, hold on to your hat, because I got some big news.”

Joe’s gruff voice dragged Aiden out of his dark thoughts. “News? Like what?”

“The captain put a rush on this case, and the crime-scene geeks came through.”

Aiden’s heart started thumping. “And?” Joe wouldn’t be Joe if he didn’t drag this out. “What did they find?”

“The blood found at the scene is B positive. Dr. Cooper’s blood is A negative, so the blood must be the perp’s. The DNA results won’t come back for at least a week, but it looks like he was wounded.” He paused, and the line hissed. “They found blood trace in the front hall as well.”

Aiden sucked in a ragged breath. Candace had fought back, but the kidnapper still managed to drag her out of the house. Fury, mixed with a hefty dose of fear, raged through him. He’d kill the bastard. Damn right, he would, and then he’d stuff his sorry ass in jail.

“But wait, there’s more.”

Aiden stiffened, his senses on high alert. “What?”

“They found animal hairs in the kitchen. A lot of hairs. No idea yet if it’s dog or cat hairs, but I’m pretty sure the good professor doesn’t own a pet.”

The air hissed out of his lungs. “Pet hairs?”

“Yep. Just like those found at the Forgotten Five crime scenes.”

Aiden’s mind spun. Were the hairs the result of transfer from his clothing? He owned a pet, and he’d been in Candace’s kitchen. “Where—” He swallowed. “—where were the pet hairs found?”

Papers rustled as Joe searched for the information. “Says here they were located by the fridge and in front of the cupboard where we found the blood smear.”

Relief surged through Aiden. He hadn’t contaminated the scene. As soon as he’d noted the signs of struggle, he’d been careful to stay out of the kitchen. When he’d been there the other day, he hadn’t gone near the fridge or the cupboard. The pet hairs couldn’t be from his clothing.

“You still there, partner?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that’s not all I discovered. I told you I was looking through the old Forgotten Five case files. Guess what I found?”

Aiden bit back his irritation. He didn’t want to play this game with Joe. Not tonight. Not when his brain was ready to explode. “Tell. Me.” Each word was bitten off like a separate chunk of ice.

“Funny thing with good police work—it ain’t sexy. It involves lots of drudgery. Most of the time it’s a waste of effort. But…”

Aiden wanted to scream at his partner to spit it out, but there was no rushing Joe Breacher when he was in this mood. He bit back the expletives burning the tip of his tongue.

“But—” Joe huffed out a wheezing breath that indicated he was smoking in the office, which wasn’t allowed, but something Joe did when no one was around. “—I came across an interesting character in my research. Twenty-two years ago, during the initial investigation into the Forgotten Five case, the task force interviewed hundreds of people, but didn’t come up with a single viable suspect.”

Joe inhaled and exhaled loudly as he smoked his cigarette, punctuated by a raspy cough. When he’d finished hacking up a lung, he cleared his throat. “When I reviewed the files, I discovered that one of the individuals questioned at the time was a veterinarian. Apparently, a witness thought she saw this guy acting suspicious near the scene of one of the abductions.”

Aiden’s breath whooshed out. “A vet!”

“Yeah.” Another phlegmy cough. “The cops checked him out, but he had a solid alibi, so they crossed his name off the list of possible suspects.”

Every hair on Aiden’s body stood at attention. This was it. He knew it. This was the break they were waiting for. “You were looking into veterinary clinics. Do you have a name?”

“Martin Strawski.” Another, prolonged, wet cough. “And you won’t believe this—he’s still at the same address.”

“Thanks, Joe. This is great.” Aiden ended the connection and stuffed his phone into his pocket. Heart racing, he tore out of the empty house, waved at the duty cop, and jogged to his car.

I’m coming, Candace. Hang on. I’ll be there soon.