Page 66 of Line of Sight (Second Sight #4)

GARY WAITED, his gun out of its holster, while a uniformed officer rang the bell to Anthony King’s apartment at Cronin’s Landing. When there was no answer, the concierge handed the officer a key.

Riley made it known he would have been happy to kick the door in, but Gary had been at this game longer than him and knew diplomacy was the way to go.

Who knew when they’d need access to another apartment?

The officer opened the door and shouted “Police! Hands in the air where we can see them.” He inched his way into the apartment, Gary and Riley close behind. Once inside the luxurious space, Gary knew instantly their quarry had fled the scene.

He put his gun back in his holster. “He isn’t here.

” Riley followed suit. Gary stood in the middle of the living area that was devoid of furniture, as empty as it had been for its first occupant.

Riley and the other officers went from room to room, banging doors, checking to see whether King had left anything.

“Gary! Get in here.”

Gary followed his voice into the bedroom. Another empty room, except for—

Oh my God.

A marble bust sat in the middle of the hardwood floor, its cool white surface stained red in places. The plaque on the front said it was Caligula, but what covered the emperor’s features was the face of Greg Collins, a bloodied mask of skin.

“I think I’m gonna heave,” an officer moaned.

“Then find a bathroom,” Gary told him. He too was fighting the urge to vomit, but he’d be damned if he’d do it in front of his fellow officers. His phone rang, and when he saw Dan’s name, he clicked on Answer. “What did you find out at the bank?”

“King came in yesterday and withdrew five-hundred grand.”

“Fuck. He’s going off the grid. I’ll call you back.” Gary dialed Travers and relayed their findings.

“I’ll have his photo circulated. Get Davis to check the land registry for any other properties King owns.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And put in a call to whoever’s still alive from that goddamn murder club. They need to be apprised of the situation. Then organize a police watch for both of them. That means informing the police in… where is Senator Kelly’s district again?”

“York, Maine, sir, and I was about to do that next,” Gary told him.

“Then don’t waste time talking to me.” Travers hung up.

Gary consulted his notebook and called Jennifer Sullivan.

“I have nothing to say to you. I’m going to han—”

“Wait!” Gary shouted. “Do not hang up, Ms. Sullivan. You need to listen to me. Your life may depend on it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I know everything, okay? Anthony King, the Secret Murder Club….”

“What? But you can’t…. Who told you?”

“Greg Collins. And what you don’t know is, he’s dead.”

Before he could tell her they suspected King, a choking sound filled his ears.

“Oh God. He killed Greg, didn’t he?”

“We have reason to believe Mr. King might be involved, yes. Not only in Greg’s murder, but the death of Amy Walsh.”

A wail rose up. “No. Oh no. It was suicide.”

He waited until her sobs had ebbed. “Ms. Sullivan, I’m sending a patrol to your address. I want you to stay there until they arrive, okay? We think your life might be in danger.”

“I’m not setting foot outside this apartment. Not with him out there. How fast can you have someone here?”

“As soon as I finish talking to you, I’ll organize a watch.”

“What about Jason?”

“I’m about to call him too.” Her sobs started up again, and he lowered his voice. “Jennifer, please, try to stay calm.”

Little by little, she regained her self-control. “I-I’m okay. Make your calls.”

He thanked her and hung up, then called Senator Kelly. His housekeeper, Mrs. Fletcher, answered, and as soon as Gary heard the panic in her voice, he knew he was too late.

“The senator is missing. He went out yesterday evening to visit friends, and when he didn’t return, I began to worry. He messaged me to say he was staying the night, which was unusual, but he has been under a bit of stress lately, so I thought nothing of it.”

Gary was starting to see a pattern. “What happened?”

“Five minutes ago, I had a call from Mrs. Sinclair, asking to speak with him. And that was when I started to worry all over again, because, you see, his dinner date had been with the Sinclairs. Only he never arrived. He sent them a text to say he’d been taken ill and that they weren’t to worry.

Mrs. Sinclair was calling to ask how he was. ”

Riley stared at him, and Gary shook his head. King has the senator , he mouthed. Okay, he didn’t know that for certain, but it was definitely a possibility.

Riley’s eyes went wide. “Fuck,” he whispered.

“Mrs. Fletcher, an officer will be there soon to take your statement. Tell him anything you can about the senator—what he was wearing, his car, places that might be important to him, anything that might help us find him.”

“O-okay,” she croaked. “Please, find him. He’s such a sweet man, and he’s already been through so much. Who would want to harm him, and why?”

You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. And you’d never look at Senator Kelly the same way ever again.

As soon as he finished the call, Gary contacted the precinct and arranged for uniformed to go to Jennifer’s place.

He asked for a female officer to stay with her.

Then he made another call to the York police department to inform them of the situation and to ask them to organize a patrol to visit the senator’s house.

He took a moment to breathe.

Where has King taken him?

The fact Kelly hadn’t already turned up dead implied only one thing to Gary’s mind.

King has plans for him, and after seeing what he did to Greg, God only knows what he’ll do next.

He called Jennifer again, to let her know to expect a patrol. She answered after only two rings. “Why aren’t the police here yet?”

“They’re on their way. Now please, try to remain calm.”

“Easy for you to say,” she fired back at him. “That psychotic bastard isn’t after you, is he?” There was a momentary pause. “There’s someone outside my door.”

“Don’t open it,” he warned her.

“I’m looking through the peephole.” Another pause. “Oh thank God. It’s a cop.”

“You’re sure?”

“Okay, he’s standing with his back to me, but I do recognize the uniform when I see it. I won’t be a minute.”

Gary heard the snick of a bolt being drawn back and the rattle of the door chain. For some reason, his heartbeat raced, and cold fear slicked the back of his neck.

“Don’t open it!” he yelled.

What followed was the whump of a body hitting the floor, and then the line went dead.

Gary called Dispatch at the precinct. “Where is the patrol I sent to Cambridge?”

“On their way, sir. They should be there in about five minutes.”

“What’s wrong?” Riley put his hand on Gary’s arm. “Fuck, you’re as white as a sheet.”

Gary shuddered out a breath. “King got to both of them before we did. So we’d better find him fast before they go the same way as Greg Collins.”

Or worse.