Page 113 of Last Seen

“I’m right, aren’t I? This is his MO. The women’s cars are always found somewhere else. It took me forever to figure out that he has someone working with him. It’s much easier to get away with murder and kidnapping with a helper.”

“A woman is helping him?” Theo doesn’t offer Catriona’s name. Her DNA at the crime scenes has just been explained in the most terrible way.

“Yes.”

“I admit, that’s a compelling story. I’m curious, though. Why are you here, now?”

“Because I thought you might want to know how to get your wife back.”

“So you followed me here?”

She huffs, throwing her arms in the air and her head back. Her actions are overly animated. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me. I knew you’d be just like the rest of them. Fine, I’ll see myself out. I will find him. I will find Halley. She has to be somewhere close to the head of it all. I’ve been watching. They think they’re so careful, but I know what they’re doing.”

“Wait,” Theo says, trying to keep this on point. The woman is all over the place. “I didn’t say I don’t believe you. You said she’s near the head of it all. The head of what?”

“The cult. Miles Brockton is running a cult.”

“A cult. In Brockville?”

“Yes. There are tepees in the woods with all sorts of dark things inside. Witchcraft and devil worship. They burn things in the night and sacrifice their children at his whims. They will do anything he bids them to do. And he has an isolation chamber. You can see the purchase order here.” She thrusts papers at them. Her eyes are gleaming with a fervor that Theo recognizes as madness. His last hopes for Halley’s safe return are starting to fade away.

“Are you saying it’s some sort of religious cult? Preppers? What sort of message is he preaching?” He can’t help himself. Theo immediately thinks about Waco and Ruby Ridge. Kade is still talking.

“Not religion. Sex. It’s all for sex. They are slaves. There are tunnels. They hide there. They wait for their prey to go mad. He built it, and he puts women in it to torture them. And when they come out they will do anything to avoid being put back in again.”

Lemke isn’t buying it. “How do you know this? Have you been in the tunnels? Do you know where they originate?”

“No. If I had, I would have already been down there to rescue the women.”

“Ma’am—”

“Special Agent Kade,” she hisses.

Theo shoots Lemke a look.Go gently, man,he thinks.She’s the only lead we have.

“Agent Kade, will you look at a picture for me?” Theo asks.

“Of course.”

He shows her the photo Halley texted. Her reaction is remarkable. She starts to shake, and tears form in her eyes.

“That’s him. That’s the devil. He’s the one I’ve been following. Where was this taken? That looks like the Farm at Brockville.”

“Possibly. Who is he?”

“Miles’s eldest son. His name is Ian Brockton.”

Saying the name aloud seems to break something in her, and everything becomes unintelligible gibberish. Devils and sacrifices and sex slaves, like she’s having a waking fever dream. A full-blown meltdown.

Lemke is trying to talk to Kade, reason with her, but she’s rambling now, off on a terrifying tangent of words only she can truly understand. Even if there’s a grain of truth in her accusations, they seem internally generated. Fantastical. Lemke finally shrugs and escorts her from the room.

Theo looks at the papers she thrust into his hand. The top page is a sketch of triangles. All four edges of the paper are covered in intricate three-dimensional triangles that reach into a darkened room.

He realizes this space must exist in her head and feels sorry for her. She seems like a very disturbed woman. But it’s been his experience that for every ounce of madness consuming a person, there is a tiny bit of the truth. Of reality. And he wants desperately to believe she is right. That Brockville is some sort of crazy cult and Halley is still there. It’s a stretch, but he has nothing else to go on.

“Who the hell is this Ian Brockton?” Theo asks Ross, who types like his life depends on it.

“A ghost,” Ross says. “Supposedly died back in 1989. Around the same time as the Handon murder, actually. A month or so before. Hey, can I see that?”