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“Sure.” She crossed the lot to the truck, yanked open the door and pointed to the seat. “Under there.”

“Got a flashlight?”

“Sure…Why?”

“I just want to poke around,” he said cryptically as she reached into the glove box and retrieved the tool in question. She handed it to him and he clicked it on, then shined the beam under the seat.

“What do you think you’re going to find?”

“Probably nothing, but I hope the son of a bitch screwed up and left something that we might be able to trace to him.”

“The police didn’t look in here.”

“They didn’t believe you, did they?”

He didn’t lift his head, just rummaged around and pulled out an old road map, a few French fries, a magazine and a small plastic box. “This yours?” he asked, holding it up to the light.

Shannon squinted. “I don’t think so. What is it?”

“A tape.”

Her heart stopped. “You mean like a cassette? The kind you can record on?”

“That’s right.” His voice was grave and he stared at the cassette as if it were a demon straight from hell. “You got a player?”

“Yeah…on the stereo. It’s old.” She was already half-running toward the house, dread pounding through her. Instinctively she knew the recording was important, probably a message from the killer. “Should we call the police?”

“Not yet. It could be nothing, something someone left inadvertently, like old songs they recorded. We don’t want to call Paterno over to listen to bad copies of Bon Jovi or Madonna or the Dixie Chicks.”

“That’s not what it is,” she said, her voice low as she opened the cabinet to the old stereo. Travis knelt before the system. He’d barely touched the sides of the tape all the while he’d looked it over and now he slipped it into the machine.

A few seconds later a girl’s voice came through the speakers.

“Mommy, help me! Please, Mommy. I’m scared. Come and get me. I don’t know where I am and I think he’s going to hurt me!

“Please, Mommy. Hurry!”

Chapter 24

All the blood drained from Shannon’s head. She felt faint. She knew the truth, realized what she was hearing even before Travis stated flatly, “It’s Dani. That’s her voice.”

Shannon placed a palm against the wall, steadying herself. Travis squatted before the stereo, frozen. His face was pale as death, his eyes dark with rage. Swearing pungently, he slammed a fist on the table. Pictures rattled and fell. “Goddamn son of a bitch,” he hissed through teeth clenched tight and lips tha

t barely moved. He turned his eyes on Shannon.

“She’s alive.” Tears streamed down Shannon’s face at the sound of her daughter’s voice. Inside she was shredding, dying to meet the child she hadn’t set eyes on in thirteen years. “But there’s something else, another sound,” she said, cut to the bone as she recognized the familiar rumble.

“Fire. He’s got her near fire.”

“Oh, God. Oh, God.” She was shaking, her mind spinning, her emotions in tatters. Seeing Dani’s picture had scraped the edges of her soul, but this, hearing her child’s voice, knowing she was out there somewhere, in the clutches of a madman while pleading to her mother for help, the mother who had abandoned her all those years ago. Shannon placed a fist to her mouth and tried not to sob.

Mommy, help me! Please, Mommy. I’m scared. Come and get me. I don’t know where I am and I think he’s going to hurt me! Please, Mommy. Hurry!

The words ran over and over in her head. “Jesus,” she whispered, swiping at her nose, feeling as if everything she believed in, everything she trusted, had been stripped from her. Out in the darkness, alone, was her daughter, held hostage and trapped near flames.

She let out a cry and Travis moved closer, placed his arms around her, forced her against his chest where she broke down completely, her fingers curling in the edges of his shirt, her tears staining the soft fabric, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

Strong arms surrounded her, held her tight as she squeezed her eyes against the rain of tears, the pain of it all.


Tags: Lisa Jackson West Coast Mystery