Page 23

TWENTY-TWO

Durham, New Hampshire

Thursday, October 10

11:36 a.m.

She couldn’t force herself to take the next step forward.

Leigh stared at the foot-deep pond pooled at the bottom of the steps leading into the basement. There was no telling how deep the water had swelled in the past twelve hours. Certainly enough to make her hesitate.

She’d changed back into her slacks and blouse. No point in ruining the perfectly dry sweatpants and hoodie she’d borrowed.

“You don’t have to do this.” Ford took position over her shoulder. The lobby was silent as students and staff lapsed into a seemingly temporary acceptance of their circumstances, intensifying his voice to the point she felt it in her bones. “According to the officers the chief sent over, Durham PD is clearing the flooding from City Hall. They can be here in the next couple of days with pumps. Whatever evidence is down there isn’t going anywhere.”

“Who else might die in that time?” She didn’t have to look at him to feel his attention burning between her shoulder blades. It was cute the way he worried, but she could do this. She had to do this. “Besides, it’s not like the killer would risk drowning just to wait for me to go back into that room.”

“Screw the plan. There’s no way in hell I’m letting you go down there alone.” The marshal stripped off his suit jacket and tossed it into the lobby.

“We talked about this.” They’d already agreed. “You need to stay here. Make sure no one disturbs Tamra Hopkins’s body before the medical examiner can get here.”

Ford unlaced his shiny shoes next. Then discarded his black socks and tie. In a matter of seconds, the marshal was stripped of his armor. “I sent one of the forensic techs to guard the remains, and campus police are more than capable of controlling the crowd. You’re not going back in there by yourself. End of story.”

“Fine.” She wanted to argue, but Leigh couldn’t deny the acid charging up her throat at the idea of going into that black underwater hole alone. She descended the final step, flinching as freezing water soaked through her shoes. The door fought against her push, and she powered the flashlight in her hand. Hopefully she wouldn’t drop it this time. “Stay close.”

She stepped into the blackness.

Water churned against her calves and continued to seep through the cinderblock walls as though they were sobbing. Drip, drip, drip . Every cell in her body focused on that consistent rhythm. A combination of comfort and terror rippled through her veins at the sound. They wouldn’t know how deep the flood went until they worked their way back to the room. Her toes were already aching at the cold assault. The muscles in her legs ached with every push forward. Damn, she needed to get back into the gym if she was already losing her breath.

Ford shone his light ahead, scanning the walls and the ceilings. She imagined he hadn’t gotten a great view of the tunnels in his rush to get to her last time. Then again, they didn’t really have all the time in the world. “I guess I should’ve asked if you knew where we were going before I agreed to come back here.”

His voice echoed off the long stretch of corridor and exposed pipes overhead and settled into her body.

“I remember.” Leigh tried to tamp down the shivers tensing the rest of her body. Expending too much energy. Burning calories she didn’t have in the first place. She cut her flashlight beam to the first corner. “Here.”

Taking the first left, they confronted another corridor. The water slid around her waist here. Taking her breath in an instant. She bit the fleshy inside of her bottom lip to distract herself. Her heart rate ticked up every inch they gained.

“You okay?” Ford’s beam crested over her shoulder as though he could read the tension along her spine through her blouse.

“If you define ‘okay’ as still having a pulse.” The pattern of dripping water she’d relied on to keep her focused changed. Becoming more of a steady stream this far into the maze. “Yeah. I’m doing great.”

“Oh, good. Because for a minute there I thought you could hear my brain screaming at me to get the hell out of here,” he said.

A near-hysterical laugh escaped her chest. He was trying to distract her. Doing a good job of it, too. Leigh angled her flashlight to the next corner. “So that’s what that was. I was worried an animal had gotten trapped down here with us.”

They approached the final turn, putting the ultimate dead end in their beams.

“Shit.” Ford grabbed for a pipe over her shoulder to keep his balance. His flashlight beam confirmed the sickening feeling in her gut. “We’re too late.”

He was right. Water climbed to her chest at the start of the hallway but one more step would sweep her off her feet if she wasn’t careful. The hallway itself sloped as a pool would leading unsuspecting victims into the deep end. Collecting at least eight feet of water between her and the kill room. Leigh sucked in a breath to counter the cold jerk of air leaving her chest, but it was no use. She kicked off her shoes and pulled her socks free. It was a risk exposing even a single inch of skin in water so black they couldn’t pick out debris, but they’d already come this far. There was no turning back. Not for her. “We’re going to have to swim it.”

“No, Leigh.” Ford reached out, faster than she thought possible, and pulled her back into his chest. “That entire room could be underwater.”

“There’s a reason he led me here, and I don’t think it’s for cleansers and a syringe we couldn’t pull prints from or Alice Dietz’s dead devices.” Whoever had lured her here—killer or not—may have been willing to sacrifice evidence he knew would lead nowhere in exchange for protecting the answers they needed. “Don’t follow me. You’re the lead on the investigation. You know this killer better than anyone, and they’re going to need your help to catch him.”

He didn’t answer.

“I can do this,” she said. “In and out.”

“This is a bad idea, and you know it.” Ford released his hold, but let his touch linger at her shoulder. “You’re risking your life for this case.”

Ignoring him, Leigh tightened her hold on the flashlight in her hand and grabbed for an exposed pipe above with the other. She could use the network to pull herself closer to the door without expending too much energy. “If I’m not back in five minutes?—”

“Just get your ass back here as fast as you can.” His hand threaded through the hair at the back of her neck. Ford crushed his mouth to hers. The kiss wasn’t anything like their first, full of punishment and unbridled anger. He was the one to pull away. “We have a date, remember?”

Leigh nodded, more out of breath than ever. Her initial weight strained the joint in her shoulder, but she used the water—now to her shoulders—to her advantage. “This is nothing like Tarzan .”

Within a few feet, the water lapped at her chin, then crested her mouth. She pinched her lips together to avoid swallowing it down. She was going to need a hepatitis shot after this. Leigh blew a strong breath as cold invaded her nostrils. This was as far as she could go keeping her head above water, yet she still had at least five feet to the door to the kill room. There were no guarantees she’d find air pockets in that room. Plan for the worst. Hope for the best. As good a motto as any.

The flashlight beam warped under the watery surface in her grip. With one last glance back to Ford, Leigh took a deep breath.

And slipped beneath the surface.

It took too long for her vision to adjust. Clouded water assaulted her eyes as she waved a hand forward. Not like a chlorine burn. More like a stabbing ice pick sensation. She could make out the doorframe. She kicked with everything she had, propelling her as far as possible before kicking again. Every thrust burned through her oxygen a little faster. She had to stay calm. Use her head. That was what would get her out alive.

Sliding her hand along the doorframe, she pulled herself over the threshold. The water changed. Murkier. Disturbed. As though the walls were closing in and squeezing her insides. Leigh mentally mapped the shelves immediately to her right and kicked past them.

What had they missed?

The corkboard once holding her entire life’s story was gone, swaying directly above her. Sweeping the flashlight overhead, she tried to identify pockets of air, but the entire room had been consumed. The realization pressurized the oxygen in her lungs. She’d ever been able to hold her breath for long. She had two minutes—maximum—before her lungs spasmed for relief, and she had to turn back.

Leigh kicked into the farthest section of room from the door. A dark bump-out housed another hand-built shelf measured precisely behind the tub where they assumed Alice Dietz had been bleached and washed before her remains turned up in front of Thompson Hall. Except the wall was darker here than in the rest of the room.

A door. She didn’t remember that from her and Ford’s initial search. The shelf stood as sentinel, blocking off access. A maintenance closet? Bubbles escaped her nose and mouth as she kicked closer. Her heart rate climbed every second she forced herself to stay in this room.

One minute. She had to make a choice. Go back to Ford, tell her what she’d found. Or risk running out of air. But who knew when they would have this opportunity again? By the time the pumps did their jobs, their unsub could be long gone. She couldn’t risk it.

Leigh released the flashlight. The beam hit the floor and carved off to one side but still managed to provide enough light for her to make out the shelf. She closed the distance between her and the shelf, hauling it up. Her lungs screamed to exhale, and she lost another few precious seconds of air. The shelf lifted away, and she guided it over the porcelain tub a few feet away. But her luck was running out.

She wrenched the doorknob. The door refused to budge. Setting her feet against the edge of the tub, Leigh pressed her shoulder into the swollen wood door and shoved.

The wood splintered and swung inward.

A water-logged, bloated face lunged at her.

Her scream was absorbed by the surrounding depths. Water infiltrated her mouth and throat and pushed out the last remnants of air from her chest. The body escaped the confines of the closet and floated toward the ceiling. Dark clothing, pale skin, and purple bruising would haunt her nightmares until the end of her days.

She grabbed for the body’s collar and dragged it behind her. Desperation threw logic out the window. She kicked with everything she had to get back into the hallway. To Ford. To air. The drag increased the ache in her muscles with every kick and sweep. Ten feet. Five. She was almost there. Leigh could just make out the shape of the doorframe ahead. She was going to make it.

Gloved hands wrapped around her neck.

Twisting, she released her hold on the body. Clawing at the pressure around her throat.

But she’d already used up the last of her oxygen. Leigh reached for the ceiling.

As the attacker dragged her down.