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“Where will you be taking her?” Charlie asked.
“Baylor Medical Center on Gaston Ave,” they said.
And on that note, Detectives Floyd and Mills arrived.
Floyd stopped the EMTs as they were wheeling her toward the foyer.
“How is she?” Floyd asked.
“Stable. No obvious wounds other than a puncture mark on her neck. She’ll be at Baylor Med. We have to go.”
The detectives stepped aside and then saw Charlie right behind her, and the blood all over his hands and clothes.
“What the hell?” Floyd asked.
“I’m okay,” Charlie said, then pointed back to the bedroom. “Go look in the closet. I found a hidden door with access into a passage behind the wall.”
“How the hell did you find her?” Mills asked.
“We were in the bedroom. I needed to make a call, but I didn’t have my phone. I left to go looking for it. Found it in the living room and made the call. When I came back here, she was gone. I saw drag marks in the carpet that led into the closet. I have an app on my phone that tracks her location. The blip was in motion, so I kicked in the wall until the hidden door opened on its own. I went in running, calling her name. Whoever took her must’ve heard me and took off. I could hear him running away as I got to her, but I don’t know where he went. I gotta go. If you want more info, I’ll be with her.”
Then he went after the EMTs, leaving the detectives behind.
Floyd and Mills headed for the bedroom and were stunned by the hole Charlie had put in the wall.
“Holy shit! He tore that thing apart with his bare hands. No wonder they were bloody,” Mills said, pointing to what was left of the shelves that had been concealing the passage.
“Well, now we know how Rachel Dean disappeared. What we don’t know is where the hell she was taken,” Floyd said.
“I want to see that passage,” Mills said.
“I do, too,” Floyd said. “But we’ll have to wait for the team to go over it first. We don’t want to screw up the possibility of recovering DNA in there. If he’s been doing this for years, there should be prints and DNA galore.”
“We’ve got those three other missing women to account for, too,” Mills said. “We need to find out what happened to them, and hopefully find Rachel before it’s too late.”
Rachel’s room was soundproof, so she’d heard nothing of what was happening. Most of the time she was unconscious, and the few times she came to, she was now too weak to get herself up for the water she craved.
She had moved past fear, and the idea of dying alone was no longer an issue. Her mother was with her all the time now. She heard her voice, saying the same thing every time. Telling her over and over... Hold on, baby girl, hold on.
So that’s where she was.
Holding the knife.
Holding on to the blanket beneath her chin.
Trusting her mama’s words with every beat of her heart.
Holding on.
Police were all over the premises, and everyone who’d had the misfortune to be home today was an immediate suspect.
Not only were they horrified at needing an alibi for their whereabouts during the attack, but they were also in a panic over finding out that there were hidden passages in the building, and fearing they might become the next victim was the last straw. Four of them had already called the office, demanding to be let out of their leases, and Wayne had no authority to tell them anything.
During the investigation Amazon delivered Sonny’s package to the office. Wayne was up to his ears with panicked residents and assisting the police before he finally remembered to send Sonny a text.
Sonny responded with a quick thumbs-up emoji, and Wayne mentally marked off that task as done and made a phone call to the owner, Allen Carson.
The call rang and rang, and Wayne was sick to his stomach, afraid it was going to voice mail. He needed guidance here, and had no authority to proceed without it. Then his worries ended when Carson answered.