She couldn’t stand another second in the grotesque death scene.
The dog took off.
Paws clicking, he raced effortlessly along the decaying wooden path.
Right behind him, Nikki, barely able to breathe, the image of Naomi’s suspended body seared in her brain, scrambled after him. Slipping and sliding, clutching her flashlight, her bag bouncing against her, she ran. Her heart was knocking so wildly she thought it might burst. Frantically, she ran along the rotting boards, past the dark swamp to the solid ground of Jeanne LaRoux’s yard.
Breathing hard, she stopped long enough to call for help, punching in the number with trembling fingers while still holding her flashlight.Her breathing was ragged as she fought panic, and her fingers trembled, but she connected.
A steady female voice answered. “911, what is the nature of your emergency?”
“This is Nikki Gillette,” she chattered. “I’m at Jeanne LaRoux’s house, and the address is … Oh, God, I don’t know, but it’s on a county road … and I … I’ve just discovered a dead body. It’s Naomi Kittle, the woman the police are looking for.”
“Hold on, Mrs. Gillette. I’m with you. Now, can you tell me your exact location?”
“I told you! I mean, I’m not sure …”
Think, Nikki, think. You saw the maps of the area. Studied them.
But her mind was all over the place. “The address is on … it’s on McCallister Road—look, you’ve got it on file.”
“If you’ll just stay on the line—”
“Just send someone to get here!” She cut the connection and immediately hit the speed-dial number for Pierce’s cell.
One ring
Pick up! Please, Pierce, pick up the damned phone!
Two.
Oh, come on! Answer!
She was breathing unevenly, heading to her car.
A third ring.
If voice mail answered, she’d have to leave a message and what? Call 911 again? Or Lily or—
“Nikki?” Pierce’s voice was suddenly loud in her ear. Her knees threatened to give way in relief. “Where are you?”
“I’m at Jeanne—”
“Put down the phone!” a deep male voice commanded.
Nikki froze.
Where? Who?
A dark shadow appeared, stepping around the corner of the porch of the LaRoux cabin. A big man, pointing a double-barreled shotgun straight at her. Not twenty feet away. “Put it down!” he said again. “End the call! Now!”
Her insides turned to jelly.
“Nikki?” Pierce’s strident voice was in her ear. “What’s happening?”
“Drop it!”
Oh, Jesus.