Page List


Font:  

“I've spent time around him, he didn’t seem crazy.”

“He didn’t just take Summer, he’s the killer. The Nursery Rhyme Killer.”

“Jonathon said you thought that too.”

“I don’t think it, Iknowit. At his house the other day he was whistling nursery rhymes. Why would he be doing that if he wasn't obsessed with them?”

“He works as a social worker. Perhaps he was singing them with one of the kids whose case he’s working. Or perhaps he was doing visits, and some kids were singing them, and he just happened to get them stuck in his head.”

Luke just glared at his brother. Why was Nick being so disagreeable?

“But again, why would he be killing people? And why the nursery rhyme thing?”

“Who knows. Why wouldIbe killing people and obsessed with nursery rhymes? Right now, I don’t care about why, I only care about finding them. Do the cops know anything?”

“Not as far as I know. Just what Jonathon told you. Summer, Aggie, and Hope were drugged, and now Summer and Hope are missing, along with Chance, and Chance and Hope’s car.”

“Could you go and talk with him, find out if there’s anything else they haven't told us. Anything, I don’t care how small. I just need to know that they’re making progress.”

“Sure.” Nick gave him a reassuring smile. “I know it’s hard, but try to keep it together. We will find Summer.”

“Detective Dawson said that too, but neither of you can know that.” If someone could give him a guarantee that Summer would be found unharmed, then he could relax a little. A little, not completely. Because even if she was found physically unharmed, she would still be psychologically scarred forever.

“He’s lived through what you're going through now. I've been there too. We will find Summer. No one will rest until we do. Sam has everyone at our firm working on it.”

Luke tried to take comfort in that. Aggie and Jonathon’s wife had both been found alive, maybe that meant there was hope. Or maybe it didn’t.

He might never see Summer alive again.

He couldn’t stay here.

He had to go and look for her.

His gaze fell on the table. Nick had left his coat there when he’d gone to find Detective Dawson.

They looked alike. Him and Nick. With his brother’s coat and beanie on there was a chance he could sneak out of here and anyone who saw him would simply think it was Nick heading home.

Luke didn’t give himself time to dwell. He grabbed the coat, shrugged into it, pulled on the beanie, shoved his hands in the pockets, and walked out the door. In the pockets of Nick’s coat, he found his brother’s cell phone and car keys. Even better. He pulled out the phone and pretended to be busy on it as he walked. With his head down, the chances of someone seeing his face and realizing it was him and not Nick were diminished.

He was holding his breath, anticipating someone stopping him with every step he took. But he made it all the way out of the building unchecked.

Once outside, he quickly located Nick’s car parked—mercifully—on the street right outside the police station. Inside, he turned off the cell phone, he did not want anyone using it to trace him and then drove off.

He had to find Summer, but he didn’t even know where to start looking.

The world was a big place, and there were a lot of places to hide.

He had to approach this logically. It wasn't Summer who was in hiding, it was Chance. He had to find Chance, then when he did, he would find Summer. If he wanted to locate Chance Zieglar he knew where he had to start.

February 23rd

3:49 A.M.

She was crying.

Hope.

The woman he loved.


Tags: Jane Blythe Storybook Murders Romance