Never Run (May Moore Suspense Thriller 1)
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
May knew she needed to pursue the hunch she’d had that the killer would not live in a cabin by the lake, but in a place where he had easy access to his underground prison and could watch his victims. But she could not make such a drastic decision without getting permission from her boss. She didn’t want to go off on her own again without consulting Sheriff Jack. At this time, if she didn’t ask, it would be letting him down - letting the whole team down.
She had to be honest with him and hope that her argument could be persuasive enough.
In the interview room, she could hear raised voices. Kerry was back inside and trying another angle, sounding stressed and aggressive.
And outside, May saw that people were losing their sense of hope.
She heard shouted voices calling out.
"Where is Cassandra? Time's going by! Why aren’t you rescuing her? What's happening in there?"
"Why isn’t he giving up his hostages?" another woman called anxiously.
There was Jack, standing and facing the entrance door. He was about to head out and face the restless bystanders.
Her boss looked purposeful but grim. She knew that briefing the crowds at this time, with no real news to give and only disappointment to offer, was not going to be an easy job. She had to catch him before he went out there.
But she was too late. As she rushed over, he walked out.
Immediately, she heard a tirade of angry and anxious questions erupt from the crowd.
“Where is the hostage?”
“Why is this taking so long?”
“Where’s our local girl?”
“Has anything gone wrong?”
May shook her head. Jack was going to be out there for hours! He always gave people the time they needed. But now, she didn’t have time at all.
The situation was in a crisis, and she had to make a decision, knowing that if things went wrong, then without a doubt, it would compromise her entire career.
She had to go, she decided. With no conclusion in sight here at the precinct, every moment counted. Perhaps it would be alright, if she didn’t take any risks, May decided. She could go there as fast as possible, see if her new theory led anywhere, and if it didn’t, she could come straight back. If it led somewhere, she would immediately call Kerry.
It was the most she could do.
Feeling wretched about having to make this decision in these stressed circumstances, May turned and left, using the department's back entrance to avoid the crowd in the front.
*
By the time May reached Caspian, it was early evening. The sun was setting, painting the sky in deep orange and red. It looked like the lake was on fire.
May got out of the car and walked along the path to the marina. She felt breathless with tension. She’d been amazed that she’d gotten this far, but she had raced here without a coherent plan.
What should she do? she wondered.
She wasn't going to hire a boat this time, she decided. She was going to walk along the lake's edge, and while she did so, she was going to try and put herself in the killer's shoes.
May felt certain that they were missing something. Now, she needed to find what it was. Hurrying down to the water, she began to pace along the track bordering the lake.
On the far side, she saw a couple in a boat, enjoying the sunset, the boat rocking gently.
But May didn’t think that the killer could have hired a boat. Not every time. If he had, he would be well known to the marina staff and his name would be in the register.
She didn't think he lived near the lake because there would be nowhere to keep his victims. Without a doubt he wanted to be near them, and they were held somewhere more isolated, with an underground section.
May stepped out on the path that led into the trees, taking it slowly, looking around. It felt tranquil. On the road, she could hear the distant hum of cars.
She looked around at people enjoying the lake. And wondered what this man would have done to make sure he remained unnoticed, while also being able to get a good view of the boats, and a look at the register, and to arrive there day after day without attracting attention.
Suddenly, her skin prickled into goose bumps as she realized what he must have done, and how he had disguised himself.
"I know what he did!" she said aloud.
It all made sense at last.
May turned and rushed back to the marina, jogging along the path, heading for the main office.
She burst through the door feeling breathless.
There was Harry Bridges, his leg stretched out in front of him, working on the computer.
He seemed surprised to see her.
"You're back?" he asked. "I heard an arrest had been made."
May shrugged. "We're still following up," she said. "Until the case is officially closed, we're pursuing all leads."
He raised his eyebrows, looking impressed as May continued.
"I noticed, when I went out just now, that there are quite a few fishermen. They seem to fish from the pier, but also from that bridge that spans the narrow part of the lake to the east."
She felt hopeful as she shared her theory with the marina owner.
He nodded. "Yes. Fishing is very popular here."
May pushed forward, hoping she could get the information she needed, because now she was sure this was how he'd hidden himself. By pretending to be a fisherman. Draped in a jacket and hood, with a rod in his hand, he would have blended into the background and become invisible.