Page 93 of Before the Night Falls

“Olivia, can you hear me?” Tyson urged, cradling her face. “Wake up. Please wake up.”

Her eyelids fluttered but didn’t open.

Tyson noticed a small puncture wound on her thigh, a drop of blood staining her light blue pajama pants. She’d been given something.

The ties loosened and then gave way. He gathered her into his arms, lifting her as he stood. “Hold on, Olivia. Just hold on.”

As he carried her toward the cellar steps, sirens wailed in the distance.

Scarborough was close.

The sunlight was blinding as Tyson emerged from the cellar, Olivia limp in his arms. He scanned the property, looking for any sign of the perpetrator.

The grounds appeared empty.

Whoever had done this was long gone.

Scarborough’s car skidded to a stop in front of the house—Tyson had left the gates open—and the detective leaped out.

“Over here!” Tyson shouted, already moving toward the house. “She needs an ambulance!”

“Already called it.” Scarborough jogged to meet him. “What happened?”

“Found her in the root cellar, unconscious. I think she’s been drugged.” Tyson didn’t slow his pace. “There were two roses beside her.”

Scarborough’s face darkened. “Any sign of who did this?”

“None.” Tyson’s voice was tight with fury and frustration. “He was gone when I got there.”

As they reached the house, the distant wail of an ambulance joined the chaos. Tyson laid Olivia gently on the couch, brushing hair from her face with a trembling hand.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I should have protected you.”

Her eyelids fluttered again, this time opening slightly. Her gaze was unfocused, pupils dilated.

“Mask,” she murmured, the word slurring. “Casanova . . .”

“Shh, don’t try to talk,” Tyson urged, gripping her hand. “Help is coming.”

“He said . . .” She struggled to form the words. “Not over . . . finale . . .”

A chill ran through Tyson as her meaning registered.

This wasn’t the end. The killer had deliberately left her alive.

Which meant this guy intended to return.

Scarborough stood in the doorway, his expression grim as he watched the exchange.

“We’ll post officers here round-the-clock,” he said, answering Tyson’s unspoken question. “And I want a detailed description as soon as she’s able.”

Tyson nodded, his eyes never leaving Olivia’s face as she slipped back into unconsciousness.

Outside, the ambulance arrived, its lights painting the walls in flashes of red.

As paramedics rushed in and took over, Tyson couldn’t shake the cold dread settling in his chest.

The countdown was almost complete.