Where the Blame Lies

“How’s it going there?”

“Not bad. Put on a garage sale, loaded some furniture. You know, all in a day’s work.”

Despite the stab at humor, Jimmy’s tone was serious, tinged with something Zach wasn’t sure what to call. But before he could ask about it, Jimmy said, “Give me the update from your end.”

Zach did, telling him about the interview with Aria’s roommate Tessa. Jimmy whistled. “That’s something. You think this ex could have held a grudge all that time that she’d aborted his baby and then abducted and tortured her?”

“Either that, or he was angry that she broke up with him. I don’t know, but it’s more than we had before.”

Zach described his meeting with Archibald Phillips, his bitterness at Josie, the likelihood of financial issues.

“Sounds like he very well could be the one who left that rat. He wouldn’t have even had to break in.”

“My thoughts too. Hey Jimmy, the boss is calling in. I’m headed your way. Be there soon.”

“See ya.”

Zach clicked over to the other line, greeting his sergeant. “Where are you, Copeland?” His boss’s voice was low, tone dead serious.

“I’m headed to Oxford. It looks likely that Josie Stratton’s cousin—”

“Turn around. We got another DOA. Girl, chained, starved to death, carving in leg.”

Ice hit Zach’s core. He muttered a curse, swerving to the side of the road to a bevy of horn blasts. He swung his vehicle around. “On my way.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Before

Josie woke with a start, a scream rising to her lips as something crawled over her ankle. She jerked her legs up, using her unshackled arm to push up on the mattress and quickly bring herself to a sitting position. Oh God! A rat. Josie screamed and kicked at it, her heart hammering in her chest, bile moving up her throat as she began to shake. The large rat let out an angry shriek but didn’t move from the place where it was digging at her mattress. Josie jolted as another one scampered across the floor, joining the first one.

The food. They’d smelled the food she was keeping hidden under the mattress, the food she was rationing. She’d thought she heard mice—she’d told herself they were mice—in the walls a couple of times, but they’d never come out before. But now they would because they’d been drawn by the smell of the food, and they’d keep coming back for it. Why now though? She’d been hiding the food for months, serving herself small, but regular meals. Had they smelled the food before and just now figured out a way into the room? That had to be it. They’d used their sharp teeth to gnaw through the wall. Sharp teeth. Oh GodGodGod. This couldn’t be happening. Couldn’t be getting worse than it already was.

Hell, apparently, had even lower levels.

She kicked at them again and as she did so, her chains rattled loudly, the sound apparently scaring the ugly creatures so that they retreated backward, turning, and disappearing into the dark corner from which they’d come. Josie’s body shook all over as she drew her limbs as close to her body as possible. Her baby kicked, a gentle tap, that served to slow her heart rate. She ran her hand over her expanding bump. “It’s okay. We’re okay. They can’t hurt us,” she whispered, voice soothing. Not while she was alive anyway. If she had to dispose of the food by eating it all, she would, but already, the small, daily portions were making her feel stronger, not just of body, but of spirit. It was another thing that she controlled now, and she was loathe to give it up to a couple of greedy rats. She’d stay awake at night and sleep during the day. Rats came out in the cover of darkness, didn’t they? Or would they care?

She stayed awake that night and they came again, their beady eyes shining in the low light as they moved toward her. Her breath

came quickly, heart leaping with fear. She rattled her chains loudly, yelling as she shook her body back and forth. They retreated, scampering backward. Tears rolled down Josie’s cheeks. How many times could she scare them before they grew bold enough to test her again? To move closer? Attack her maybe? She didn’t know anything about rats, or how aggressive they might be.

With the sunrise, she slept, unable to keep her eyes open. A sharp pain roused her and she moaned, something scratching at her foot, and moving near her shoulder. She screamed, sitting bolt upright as one rat scurried away and the other one dug at her mattress near where her foot had been hanging off the side.

She screamed, rattling her chains hysterically, kicking at the creatures. She heard footsteps and the door opened. Marshall stood there in his mask, his chest rising and falling as his gaze fell to the rats scurrying back to the corner in reaction to his arrival.

He took a surprised step backward, the bag he held in his hand falling to the floor, his head jerking slightly. He looked to where Josie sat, her limbs pulled in to her body, visibly shaking. After a very brief hesitation, he walked over to her, squatting next to the mattress and running his fingers over her ankles. Her eyes followed the movement and she saw that there were red marks marring her skin. They looked like bites, though Josie didn’t remember being bitten, just scratched. Had she slept that deeply? Another shiver wracked her body. Marshall stood, walking to the corner where the rats had disappeared into the wall. He stared at it for a moment before returning to Josie’s side. “They must have just f-figured out a way in here.” He looked away as if in thought. “They probably s-smell you. Or the food that I b-bring.”

“Please let me go,” she begged, her voice a hoarse whisper. “This isn’t right. Please.” She’d asked him over and over, begged, cajoled, but he’d always ignored her before this. This time, he paused, staring at her, tilting his head as if in thought. She held her breath. But he simply turned, walking to the doorway where he’d dropped the fast food bag, picking it up and tossing it at her. It landed on the floor next to her mattress. Marshall closed the door behind him. Josie let out a slow breath.

She ate some of the older food under her mattress and saved the fresh food as part of her rations, surprised when she heard Marshall returning a little while later.

He came into the room with a bag in his hand, walking directly to the place the rats had come from. He placed something down on the floor and then went to each corner, placing the same black boxes down there as well. “B-bait stations,” he said. “They’ll eat the p-poison and go back to their nests and die.” He turned toward Josie. “Did you know that a p-pair of r-rats can produce twenty-f-four to s-seventy-two offspring in a year? I know about r-rats,” he finished quietly.

Josie swallowed, shaking her head. He continued to stare at her. His eyes roamed her body, lingering on her large belly. Her blood grew cold. He hadn’t touched her since he’d felt the baby move and she’d dared to hope he wouldn’t touch her again. Her body was no longer only hers. It housed her child and the thought of being used—abused—right then was particularly horrifying. “I hate r-rats,” he said, his eyes lifting to hers. And then he turned and he left the room.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Zach felt like he was experiencing a horrific déjà vu. The girl in front of him lay on the floor, her hands shackled in chains behind her back, body in a state of decomposition. He resisted the urge to flinch at the awful stench that met his nose. This one had died more recently than the last.