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Presley blinked, trying to clear the haze in her eyes. “Dr. Anders?”

“Call me Val.” The medical examiner helped her up and prodded her forward. “Come on, Presley, get up. We need to get gone.”

“I don’t understand. Why are you doing this?”

“You’ll see.”

Presley couldn’t fight her when Val guided her around a paved path and into a van proclaiming St. Louis County Medical Examiner on the side. She had no desire to climb into a vehicle used to transport dead bodies. That thought quickly fled when Val whipped the back doors open. Jessie and Tamera were lying inside, tied up and unconscious.

“Are they dead?”

“No. They’ll come around soon enough. Now, be a good girl and get in. I don’t want to, but I will shoot you.”

Her eyes narrowed. Someone else was there, but no name would come to mind. Presley wanted to fight back, but her muscles had gone lax. As hard as she tried to fight it, she crawled inside and promptly lapsed into unconsciousness.

#

Dominic had checked the third floor but found nothing except a disturbing alcove off the main bedroom containing whips, chains, swings, and other assorted items he wanted to scrub from his brain. He didn’t even want to contemplate what went on in there. He wasn’t a prude, but good grief, that was a lot to take in.

Gia had been excited when he stuck his head in the room where she was playing with other kids her age. She thought it was time to go home. He told her he’d return for her soon and continued his search. He found nothing. No sign of Jessie or Tamera.

Dom was glad to have his cell back. He called Presley, but she didn’t pick up. He dialed Kayne.

“Hey, you find anything?” Kayne asked.

“No, and I can’t reach Presley.”

“I can’t either,” Kayne said. “Meet me in the foyer.”

Dom raced down the steps and almost plowed Kayne over. “Where the hell is she?”

Sam’s voice boomed through the house as he announced the program’s start.

“Something’s happened,” Kayne insisted.

“Eddie Smith is dead,” Dominic reminded him.

Kayne shook his head. “It bothers me that no evidence directly ties Smith to the fires.”

“What are you saying?” Dominic demanded.

“Unless I’m wrong, and I don’t think I am, we’re dealing with more than one perp.” He punched buttons on his phone. “Follow me. I’m tracking Presley’s phone.”

They weaved through the hallways and came to the back of the house. Kayne opened the door to a deck that led to a driveway used for the catering staff, judging by the parked vehicles covered with Dinah’s Delectables signage. They dodged a ladder and leaped down the steps.

Kayne halted suddenly and dropped to the ground. He reached beneath a minivan and pulled out Presley’s purse. He opened it up. “Her phone, watch, and gun are all here.”

Alarm shot through Dom. “She’s unarmed against a killer?”

“No. She’s a professional. She’ll have one strapped to her leg.”

That was a relief.

“Let’s get to the SUV. I want to ask the guard who’s left recently.”

#

Kayne took off running, knowing Dominic would keep up with him. Guilt weighed heavily on him that Presley had been taken. He should’ve insisted she wear her watch so he could track her.

It had bothered him that they couldn’t uncover any evidence tying Eddie Smith to the fires that killed three women. The local police and the FBI had closed the case. Kayne should’ve listened to his instincts.

As he approached his SUV, he realized something. “That’s odd.”

“What?” Dominic asked.

“The ME’s van was parked next to me. I walked in with her. Why would she leave before the event started?”

Dominic slammed his hands against the roof. “Oh, hell. She said the deaths were all smoke inhalation.”

Kayne picked up on his line of reasoning. “As the medical examiner, she has the last say. She could’ve drugged and tied them up. No one would question her.”

“Exactly.”

“You drive. I need to contact my office.”

They changed positions, and Dominic shoved the car in gear. Kayne’s hand shot out to clutch the dashboard when Dominic floored the accelerator. Once he regained his equilibrium, he called the number for the tech crew. It was late, so Tyler wouldn’t be there, but everyone on his staff was qualified. When someone answered, he asked for an expedited background on Dr. Val Anders, the medical examiner of St. Louis County, Minnesota.

Kayne’s seatbelt jerked him against the seat when Dominic squealed to a stop at the guard station.

“Phil, we need to know who’s left recently,” Dominic said.

Phil looked surprised by the demand. “The only vehicle belonged to the medical examiner.”

Kayne leaned forward. “Did you talk to her?”

“No, just a wave.”

“Was she alone?”

“As far as I could tell, but I couldn’t see into the back.”

“Do you have access to security camera footage from around the house?” asked Kayne.

“I do.”

“This is a life or death situation,” Dominic informed him. “Mrs. King is involved. We need to see video from the driveway behind the house leading to the kitchen.”

“Sure thing.”

They jumped out and crowded into his booth. Phil manipulated the computer until he found the correct camera. The footage was blank. “What the heck?”

“Go back to when it was working,” Kayne suggested.

He did so, and they watched as a gloved hand came into view and spray-painted the display black to hide their crime.

“That’s why a ladder was outside the door,” Dominic realized.

“Is Mrs. King in danger?” Phil wanted to know.

“She might be,” Dominic answered. “I need you to do me a favor. My daughter is inside with the other children. Your wife is one of the chaperones, right?”

“She is.”

“Can you call her and tell her I had to leave but will return to pick Gia up as soon as possible? Don’t leave her alone.”

“No problem. Pam and I will personally make sure she is safe.”

“Thank you.”

They returned to the SUV. Dominic thunked his head against the steering wheel. “Where do we even start?”

Kayne wished he had an answer, but he didn’t.

#

Presley came awake gradually. Before she opened her eyes, she tried to recall what had happened. Images came to her slowly. She’d been at the King’s gala with Dominic and Kayne. They’d split up to search for Jessie. She’d run into . . . someone. Who was it?

Voices sounded from nearby. She strained to hear what was being said but couldn’t. Then she remembered. It was Val Anders, the medical examiner. Tamera and Jessie had been bound in the back of her van. That was all she could recall.

Presley took stock of her situation. Her head pounded, and her mouth felt dry. She was lying on her side with her hands tied behind her back. Her feet were free. Big mistake. She could feel the press of her backup gun strapped to her thigh. Error number two. She hadn’t been searched for weapons.

The voices grew louder. It was two women. Was Val talking to Jessie or Tamera?

Someone shook her shoulder. “Sweetie, are you awake yet?”

Presley blinked her eyes open and pretended to be out of it. “What happened?”

“Oh, good. It’s almost showtime. Let’s get you up.”

Two people grasped her arms and placed her in a chair with her arms behind her. Before she could see who the second person was, her gaze was drawn to two chairs in front of her. Jessie King was strapped into one, Tamera Watts the other. Their hands were bound to the armrests, and their feet were tied to the legs. A thick strip of gray tape covered their mouths. Behind both chairs were silver IV stands with saline bags attached. Clear tubes carried liquid into ports in the women’s arms. Jessie was unconscious with her chin resting on her chest, but Tamera’s eyes were ringed with smudged mascara and wide with terror.

Presley’s voice was low and menacing. “Dr. Anders, what’s in the bags?”

“Please, call me Val. It’s a harmless sedative,” she assured her, “with a touch of truth serum thrown in for good measure.”

Presley still hadn’t laid eyes on Val’s accomplice, who was staying out of sight. A moan sounded, drawing their attention to Jessie. Her head slowly came up, and she blinked. Then her eyes rounded in horror. She jerked at her binds to no avail.

Val rubbed her hands together with glee. “It’s showtime.” Presley thought she spotted a touch of madness in her gaze.

“This is how this is going to work,” Val said to Jessie. “I will remove the tape, and you are going to relive that night eighteen years ago when Gwen Parrish died.”

Presley couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped her lips.

Val continued. “You will tell the entire story, leaving nothing out. I’ve already injected you with truth serum, so you won’t be able to lie easily. Here’s the twist. Inside the bags dripping fluid into your veins is a nasty cocktail of drugs that will most assuredly kill you.”

“You said it was harmless,” Presley accused.

“Yeah, I lied.” She turned back to Jessie and Tamera, both of whom were weeping. “I’ve set the liquid to a slow drip. If you aren’t honest or leave anything out, I will increase the flow. If I am satisfied with your recollections, I will remove the stents, and you will live.”

Presley sincerely doubted that.

“So, ladies, the choice is yours. Total honesty or death. Pick your poison.” She laughed at her joke. “See what I did there?”

Chuckling sounded behind Presley. The accomplice.

“Are you going to cooperate?”

Both women nodded eagerly.

“Good. Good.” She addressed the person behind Presley. “Cue the recorder.”

Val was filming this. Unease had Presley’s stomach cramping. What was going on?

Val ripped off Tamera’s tape, and she let out a blood-curdling scream. “Shut up,” Val ordered. Tamera whimpered. Val moved to Jessie and jerked hers off. Tears filled her eyes, but she bit her lips and stayed quiet.

“Jessie, you’re in charge. This is your story to tell.”

Jessie’s eyes shot to Presley. She thought she saw regret there. Presley mentally prepared herself to remember those dark, dark days.