Home > Scream For Me: A Novel of the Night Hunter (For Me #3)(46)

Scream For Me: A Novel of the Night Hunter (For Me #3)(46)
Author: Cynthia Eden

“A week,” she whispered as she bent over the woman. “I think she’s been dead for about a week.”

That would explain why their guy had gone out collecting again. He’d lost—killed—his girl.

He had to find another.

Kyle backed up, his gaze taking in the area. The small kitchen. The closet-sized bathroom to the right side. This section of the cabin was clear. To the left, a small, snaking hallway led to darkness.

The floor creaked beneath his feet as he advanced down the hallway.

He could hear the soft rustle of Cadence’s steps behind him.

His fingers curled around the doorknob. It looked like this place only had one bedroom.

He turned the knob. The door swung open easily, but there was no light inside the room.

Was the killer waiting in there?

He crouched low as he entered, not wanting to present a target. His flashlight swept the room.

An old bed. A small desk. A wooden chair.

Nothing else.

No one else.

His hand flew out, searching along the wall near the door. Then his fingers were flipping the light switch.

The bulb flickered, then pulsed with light.

No, the guy wasn’t there. Just the body he’d left behind.

Kyle turned toward the desk again, then realized there was something on it.

Cadence had already seen it. She was staring down at the desk’s surface, the gun gripped tightly in her hand. “It’s him,” she whispered.

Yeah, the body in the other room had pretty much confirmed that.

He crossed to her side, and realized she was looking at sketches. Nearly a dozen of them. Painstakingly detailed, charcoal sketches.

Of the missing women. He recognized their faces.

His gloved hand pushed aside some of the sketches.

Maria. His sister’s image stared up at him. Not a smiling, happy Maria. Not the vision of her that he struggled so hard to keep in his mind.

This Maria was afraid. Her lips were pressed tightly together. Her eyes wide.

Fuck, f**k, f**k.

“Kyle!” Cadence grabbed him and pulled him back. “Focus on me, Kyle, got it?”

He blinked and realized that a haze of red—fury—had covered his vision.

Cadence tapped the small transmitter on her ear. The transmitter linked her to everyone in the search group. “He’s not in the cabin, but we have an affirmative. This is our perp. Keep searching the woods and get the dogs out here.”

Kyle’s heartbeat thundered in his ears. His gaze slid back to that picture. Maria. His Maria.

She wasn’t a trophy for that bastard. She was my sister.

“There will be something here with his scent on it,” Cadence told him. “We’ll check the whole place.”

He knew they would. They’d search every crevice for clues. They’d run down the paper used in those sketches. Figure out where the guy had gotten his charcoal. They’d tear his life apart and take him down.

Kyle’s gaze held Cadence’s. He choked back the rage and gritted out, “If he’s running, if he’s hiding out there, we will find him.”

The dogs raced through the woods, searching even as the sun began to set. Kyle ran right after them, not about to be left behind, because they had a scent.

The dogs were barking, so excited they were nearly dragging their handlers, and they’d found their prey.

You won’t get away.

They’d found clothing in the cabin. A man’s shirt, size large. Some hiking boots, size twelve. The dogs had the scent, and now they had him.

They crested a small rise, then dove into a thick patch of pines. Their handlers were fighting to keep the dogs in check. They had him.

The dogs stopped. They were pawing at the ground.

At the loose dirt.

The handlers pulled them back. Two deputies started to carefully brush away some of the dirt.

“Stop!” Kyle’s voice snapped out. He could see the remains already.

The flash of white bone. The piece of cloth that one of the dogs’ paws had caught.

“Another victim?” a female deputy asked.

He wasn’t sure. The scent the dogs followed should have belonged to Jake Landers.

But if Jake Landers was in the ground…

Then who has been killing?

Cadence stretched, her spine aching as she finally stepped away from the exam table. She’d been working with the county coroner for most of the night.

First on the redhead they’d found tied in the cabin.

Then on the second set of remains brought in by the deputies.

She studied the files that she’d prepared one more time. There was no denying the evidence on the female victim.

“Why did he just leave her in that house?”

She glanced over at the coroner’s voice. Kathy Warren had been incredibly thorough during the exams. All business. Now, Cadence saw the faint moisture at the corner of her eye as Kathy glanced at the remains.

“I don’t know,” Cadence said.

Kathy swallowed. “I used to work in Nashville. Started in the ER. I saw plenty of murder cases come across my table up there.” Her breath blew out as she pulled off her gloves and tossed them in the disposal. “It was the kids who were the hardest. Seeing what people can do to them.”

That was the hardest for Cadence, too.

“Why’d he leave her there? Why’d he just let her rot?”

Sometimes, people shouldn’t ask questions, not when they really didn’t want to hear the answers. Cadence pressed her lips together, but Kathy just waited. The faint ticking of the clock on the left wall sounded incredibly loud. Cadence finally said, “Maybe he didn’t want to let her go.”

Kathy flinched.

Cadence tossed away her own gloves. The team would be waiting for her upstairs. She strode from the room before Kathy could ask any more questions the woman would be better off not getting answered.

The morgue doors swung shut behind her. She climbed the stairs slowly. The morgue was located in the basement of the sheriff’s office, so it only took her a few moments to make her way to the FBI’s temporary home.

They’d made copies of the sketches. Pinned them to the walls. The originals would be checked very thoroughly to see if any prints had been left behind. To see if the paper itself could be traced, the type of charcoal used tracked down.

The FBI labs would go over every inch of those sketches. If there was a clue to be found there, they’d discover it.

“Agent Hollow!” She paused and glanced over her shoulder. The coroner was breathing quickly, and she had a file in her hands. “Just got the dental report back on the male.”

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