Page 7

CHAPTER 7

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Thursday, March 31, 9:30 a.m.

“His last known address was a dead end,” Vito said as he drove them to the prison. “Kevin Hale was released from prison and just disappeared.”

They’d been quiet for most of the drive, Vito deep in thought. As was Tino, although he might have dozed for part of the way. He’d held Charlotte all night, finally falling asleep shortly before dawn. His eyes felt like sandpaper.

“No parole officer,” Tino muttered.

“Nope. He served his full sentence. He has an aging grandmother and gave his address as her home, but she says he’s never been there. That she would not have welcomed him into her house. Her neighbors corroborated this, saying that they’d seen no one entering or exiting in the past six months other than the Meals on Wheels delivery person and her home health-care nurse. Both women. No men have been seen around her house.”

“He could have snuck in.”

“Possibly, but he’s not there now. The grandmother claims not to have known he’d finished serving his sentence. She was a little forgetful, but she was firm on that point. There was no evidence of anyone else having been in the house, and she allowed us to search. I think she was afraid Hale had broken in and really was living upstairs. She’s confined to the lower floor of her house now. The upper level hadn’t been disturbed in quite some time.”

“When did your detectives search her house?” Tino asked.

“We went last night, after I met with you and Charlotte. I searched the place myself, Tino. I wanted to be sure for you.”

Tino reached across the console and gripped Vito’s arm. “Thank you.”

“It’s the least I could do.” He drew a breath. “Why didn’t you tell me you were having nightmares?”

Tino shrugged. “I figured everyone did. Don’t you?”

“Sometimes, but it’s usually only the most intense cases. Children, mostly. Or if someone was brutally killed. Those are hard images to wipe.” Vito sighed. “Sophie said she’d hit me if she were allowed to exert herself. She’s known for a while that your job was wearing on you. She said she tried to tell me, but it never sunk in, I guess.”

But of course Sophie had known. He and Sophie had been close ever since she’d entered Vito’s life.

“She said it was wearing on me?”

“She actually said it was sucking out your soul.”

Tino chuckled. That sounded more like Sophie. “It’s not bad all the time, but I hear their stories and I feel so impotent. At least you can catch the bastards who hurt the people I’ve talked to.”

“Because you tell us who to look for. Tino, your work is beyond important. But if it’s sucking out your soul, you should stop.”

“I’ve considered it from time to time, but never seriously. It’s become more like a...calling, I suppose. Not just a job.”

“I feel the same way about my job,” Vito admitted. “Have you seen a therapist?”

“Yes. It’s been a few years, but he helped. If it gets bad again, I’ll go back.”

“Do me a favor and go soon. Don’t wait until it gets bad. It’s just like with a wound. You gotta stay ahead of the pain.”

Tino’s eyes widened in surprise at the knowing in Vito’s voice. “You?”

Vito’s smile was wry. “Yes, me. I’d come home from work too tense, and it was impacting Sophie and the kids. So I talked to a therapist. For them, at first, but then I did it for me. It helped so much that I kept it up. I see mine every month like clockwork.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, clearly uncomfortable talking about his therapy. “So...you and Charlotte?”

Tino blushed like a teenager. “I hope so.”

“Did she tell you why she left?”

“Yeah. I can’t say that I totally understood, but it wasn’t to hurt me. I am positive of that. We’re going to try. Maybe see what happens.”

“It’s always been her, hasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Tino said simply.

“Which is why you’ve been alone all this time.”

“Pretty much.”

“Is that why you broke off your engagement all those years ago?”

“Actually, she broke it off with me. She realized that I wasn’t fully committed and that we’d be better friends.”

“Did she know about Charlotte?”

“Not by name, but I was honest with her. Told her that I hadn’t gotten over my first love. She figured as much and told me she deserved better than a man who didn’t love her completely. She was right. We’re still friends, Vito. That breakup didn’t break my heart.”

“Good. I’ve worried about you all this time.” Then Vito frowned. “What about Gino? Why is he still single then? Did someone break his heart, too?”

“I think he genuinely enjoys playing the field. He’s not opposed to settling down. He just hasn’t met anyone he wants to settle down with.” Tino watched as the prison gates came into view. “Do you think this guy will be cooperative? Kevin Hale’s cellmate?”

“He’s a lifer. We can’t offer him any time off his sentence, but he does have a daughter who lives in Harrisburg. The DA says we can offer him a transfer so that she can visit him more often.”

Some of the tension in Tino’s chest loosened. “You called the DA?”

“Of course I did. I woke him up after I left your house last night. I want to find Kevin Hale. He’s hurt too many people. Too many families. I want him off the streets. So does the DA.”

“Did the owner of the sushi restaurant where he worked tell you anything that might help?”

“Only that he’d taken a chance on hiring Hale as a busboy and had been pleased with his work ethic up until the time he disappeared from his shift without a word. This restaurant owner hires ex-cons, said Hale told him that one of the guys he’d known in prison had gotten out and gotten a job with him. Recommended Hale apply.”

“Did he have the guy’s name?” Tino asked, suddenly hopeful. “Could Hale be staying with the other ex-con?”

Vito hesitated, then shook his head. “Hale may have stayed with him at one point since his release, but he wasn’t there, either.”

There was something Vito wasn’t saying, and Tino was afraid he knew what that was. “What happened to that other ex-con?”

Vito sighed. “His name was Oscar Dupree. He’s dead. The owner of the sushi place said that Dupree hadn’t been in to work in a few days. We went to the address and found his body. Bullet through his head.”

Tino’s stomach twisted. “Dammit,” he whispered.

“Yeah. Dupree’s laptop was gone and a wall safe was empty, door hanging open. The victim’s girlfriend said that he’d kept a lot of cash in the safe, just in case he had to leave town quickly. He served time for running drugs for a gang, and he’s been looking over his shoulder since his release.”

“So Hale might not have killed him.”

“Maybe not, but the bullet that killed the guy was the same caliber as the one that killed Lombardi and Fadil and put Lewis in the hospital. The bullet’s with Ballistics right now. Hopefully we’ll have a definitive answer quickly.”

“Why didn’t he shoot Mrs. Johnson?” Tino asked, because he’d been wondering about that.

“He may have intended to. Someone two blocks away had a heart attack that night and called 911. Security cameras from the houses nearby picked up a man in a hoodie running from Mrs. Johnson’s house shortly after that 911 call. We figure that Hale must have heard the ambulance sirens and panicked, because he ran. Either way, beating was his MO. We held back some of the details of Lombardi’s and Fadil’s crime scenes. He beat them before shooting them. We asked the families not to share that detail, and so far, they’ve complied.” Another hesitation. “We think he was trying to get them to share Charlotte’s address. That Hale never got to Charlotte’s apartment says that they kept her secret. Protected her.”

“And died doing so.” Tino closed his eyes. “That’s going to—” He nearly said kill her , but bit the words off. He couldn’t set those words into the universe. “She’ll feel even guiltier.”

Vito pulled into the prison’s parking lot and shut off the engine. “Therapy, bro. She’s going to need it.”

Nodding, Tino started to get out of the car when his cell buzzed. “It’s Nick Lawrence,” he said after glancing at the caller ID.

“Put him on speaker,” Vito said and Tino did.

“Nick,” Tino said. “I’m with Vito and you’re on speaker.”

“Good. I called you first, Vito, but you weren’t in the office. I left a message. I got news from the prison in Memphis where Charlotte Walsh’s stalker was killed. They’ve got a suspect. A few inmates saw the stabbing happen but didn’t talk until they were promised concessions. Long story short, they got the killer to admit that he’d been paid by one of the other inmates to kill Charlotte’s stalker. Guess who paid a visit to that inmate two weeks ago?”

Tino’s heart sank. “Kevin Hale?”

“Bingo,” Nick said grimly. “He had the man who hurt Charlotte killed. I don’t know how he got any of the information he had, but I thought you should know. Hale must have gone straight to the prison in Memphis after being released.”

“He had Charlie’s attacker killed before he even saw her in the restaurant,” Tino said, feeling sick. “That’s even more disturbing. He was focused on her even before he saw her again.”

“Looks like it,” Nick confirmed.

“Thank you,” Vito said. “We’re about to talk to Hale’s former cellmate. Now we have even more questions to ask.”

“Yes,” Tino murmured. “Thank you, Nick. I appreciate it.”

“Good luck, guys,” Nick said.

Yeah. They were going to need it.

* * *

Mount Airy, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Thursday, March 31, 10:25 a.m.

“I’ll clean the kitchen,” Gino said. “You cooked. And it was delicious. I’d feel bad for Tino that he missed it, but I’m thinking you’ll cook for him again soon.”

Charlotte smiled at him. “I’ll cook for you, too. I like cooking for people who like my food. I can help you tidy up.”

Gino waved her away. “Go call your aunt. Tell her I said hi. I wasn’t an artist like Tino, but I always liked her class.”

“I will. Thank you.” She took her phone to Tino’s bedroom and closed the door behind her. The bed loomed large, and she sank onto the edge. She could smell Tino’s aftershave on the sheets. He’d always used the same kind, even back in high school. All the other guys smelled like Brut or Old Spice, but Tino’s scent had always been woodsy and light.

She should know. It had been her gift to him the first Christmas they’d exchanged gifts, back in the ninth grade. She’d smelled aftershave products at the mall until her head had ached before choosing the fragrance. That he still wore it gave her a warm feeling, deep in her chest.

He’d given her a small, silver-plated heart on a chain that same Christmas. It currently resided in her safe deposit box, its value purely sentimental.

I should have come home years ago. To Tino.

And to Dottie. She’d been so happy when Charlotte had come back for good. I’ll take care of her for as long as she has left. Which was hopefully a long, long time.

Charlotte was about to call the nurse’s station in the ICU when her phone vibrated in her hand. A FaceTime from Kayla. “Hey, honey. What’s?—?”

Her words fell away.

It wasn’t Kayla. The face that looked out from her phone was the same face Tino had drawn the night before. Kevin Hale.

It took a second for her brain to register the gravity of the situation.

Kevin Hale had Kayla’s phone.

The warm feeling that had filled Charlotte’s chest was gone in an instant, replaced with cold dread. “Hello, Kevin,” she said quietly, not sure of what to say or how to behave.

He smiled, looking pleased. “I knew you’d remember me. This one here, she’s a friend of yours, I take it.” He turned the phone to one side, revealing Kayla.

Terror stole Charlotte’s breath. He has Kayla.

The girl was tied to a chair, a gag in her mouth. Weak light filled the room behind her, but it was enough to showcase the bruise that covered the left side of her face.

He’d hit her. Fury mixed with the terror. He’d hit a thirteen-year-old girl. An innocent.

But he’d already hurt so many innocents. Of course he wasn’t above hitting a child.

“Let her go,” Charlotte whispered hoarsely.

“I will. I promise.” He turned the phone back so that his face was all she could see. “Just come to our house, and I’ll take her home. And don’t tell your friend .” He said the word with a sneer. “If I see a single cop—or Tino Ciccotelli—anywhere around you, I’ll kill the kid.”

Charlotte’s mind was racing, but no coherent thoughts emerged. “Why?”

The sneer gave way to a cheerful smile. “Because I’ve got us a beautiful house to live in.” The smile faltered, revealing a steely determination. “You’ll be happy here.”

It sounded like a threat.

“Why me? After all this time?”

He looked hurt. “Charlie, I’ve been waiting for you all this time. You left town and I lost touch with you for a while, but you came home. To me.”

She wanted to violently disagree. Wanted to tell him that he was batshit crazy. But he had Kayla.

She drew in a breath. “Tell me where to go. Where is the house?”

His smile turned cunning. “So that you can tell your friend ? Not gonna happen, Charlie. Ciccotelli had his chance with you, and he blew it. He made you leave. He doesn’t get a second chance.”

This was insane. He was insane.

“Then where should I go?” she asked, her voice shaky.

His expression softened. “Don’t be afraid, Charlie. I’ll make sure you’re so happy. I promise. We’ll finally be together, and you’ll have everything you ever wanted.”

She made herself smile. “I know. You’ve had a long time to plan.”

Something dark flickered in his eyes. “I have. I sacrificed decades for you.”

She considered asking what that meant, but he glanced at Kayla and his lips thinned. “I’m sorry,” she said meekly. “Where do you want me to go?”

“Take a cab to the parking lot at the Verizon store in Roxborough. Get out and start walking across the parking lot toward the Target. If I see anyone following you, the girl will die. Got it?”

Charlotte nodded. “I understand.”

He smiled. “You were always smart.”

She drew another breath. “How do I know you’ll let Kayla go?”

He frowned. “You don’t. But I promised I would, and I keep my promises. You should remember that, Charlie.”

She hadn’t remembered him until the night before. She’d forgotten him minutes after their last tutoring session. But saying either of those things would make him angry, and Kayla would be the one to suffer.

The girl and her family had already suffered enough.

“Okay. When should I be there?”

His smile was delighted once again. “Leave now. Pay for the cab in cash.” The smile slipped. “Leave your car at your friend’s house.”

“How did you know—” She cut herself off because he gave her a stern look.

“I know where you are, Charlie. Back with Tino Ciccotelli. He’s no good for you. I tried to tell you that back then, but you didn’t listen.”

Had he?

She didn’t remember.

“I was young then. I didn’t listen to anyone.”

The stern expression remained. “Well, from now on, you’re going to listen to me.”

“I will.”

“Oh, and Charlie? Leave your phone behind. I’m going to search you when I pick you up. If I find a phone or any other tracking devices on you, the girl dies. Got it?”

She managed to nod. “Yes.”

“Yes, sir ,” he corrected. “Say ‘yes, sir.’”

She swallowed, her heart beating wildly in her chest. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. You’ll learn. Now hurry. I want you to see our house.”

“I...I need to pack a bag.”

“No, you don’t. I have everything you need right here. I will take care of you from now on.”

She felt dizzy and realized she’d stopped breathing. She sucked in a breath and forced another smile. “Okay. I’ll see you soon.”

“I know exactly how long it will take you to get here. I’ve already called you a cab. They’ll be pulling up outside of Ciccotelli’s house in two minutes. I’ll give you an extra five minutes of travel time in case you get stopped by a light. And, like I said, if I get even a whiff of a cop, Kayla will suffer.”

Charlotte jerked a nod. “Okay. I understand.”

He ended the call and she sat for a moment, staring at the phone in her hand.

She was not walking into this like a lamb to slaughter. He didn’t intend to let Kayla live. Why would he? So sacrificing myself makes no sense.

But she had to play along.

Hands shaking, she called Tino’s phone, but it went to voicemail.

Because he’s at the prison. They would have made him leave his phone behind. Calling Vito would be just as useless then.

She didn’t want to call 911. First, it would take too long to explain this to a stranger, and she’d be late to her rendezvous. He would probably hurt Kayla. Second, Philly PD would send cruisers with sirens blazing, and Kayla definitely wouldn’t stand a chance.

Closing her eyes, she called Tino’s phone again. She needed him to understand. Especially if she never saw him again. Grabbing his pillow, she held it to her nose and inhaled his scent one more time as his voicemail message played. When she heard the beep, she set the pillow aside.

She’d come so close to getting what she’d wanted since the day she’d walked away from Tino Ciccotelli twenty-four years ago. She wasn’t going to give that up without a fight.

“Tino, it’s me. Charlie. If I don’t see you again, just know that I’ve always loved you. I never stopped, not in all these years. I’m sorry I’m doing this, but I don’t know what else to do. He’s got Kayla, and she’s just a girl. But you’ll figure this out. I trust you. And if you don’t, don’t you dare blame yourself.”

She ended the call, then checked her contacts for the one person who’d be able to get word to Tino and Vito at the prison.

* * *

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Thursday, March 31, 10:35 a.m.

Tino sat at the interview table next to Vito, studying Gus Greene. The man was shackled, hands and feet, but he didn’t look terribly dangerous. He was, however, serving life for murdering three people—strangling them with his bare hands—so appearances were apparently deceiving.

He’d served fifteen years of a life sentence and had spent three of those years with Kevin Hale as his cellmate. Those years had been Hale’s final three of his fourteen-year sentence.

“Mr. Greene,” Vito said with a nod. “I’m Lieutenant Ciccotelli with the Homicide Department.”

His brother had instructed Tino to remain silent unless he signaled that it was okay to speak. Tino chafed at that, but figured he was lucky to be included in the interview, so he obeyed.

For now.

Greene grinned. “‘Mister.’ Look at me, getting called ‘Mister.’ Gotta say, that’s been a while.”

“This is my colleague,” Vito said. “He’s a sketch artist. He worked with witnesses to recent violent attacks in the city.” He slid a photo across the table. “Witnesses described this man. Kevin Hale.”

“Sonofabitch. Kevin, not you, Lieutenant.”

“You didn’t like him, then?” Vito asked.

Greene gave an exaggerated shudder. “Hell no. He was fuckin’ nuts. But, if he was on your side, you were safe in here.”

Vito lifted his brows. “He provided protection?”

“Yep. He wasn’t cheap, but he was damn good at it.”

“How much?” Vito asked.

“Depended. If you were a short-timer, it was favors. Usually redeemable when the guy got out. If you had family who visited, it was favors from them—the family would get Kevin information. If you were a lifer like me, it was fifty percent of whatever you made working whatever job you were assigned.”

“Inmate pay ranges from about twenty-five cents to fifty cents an hour,” Vito murmured to Tino.

“So Hale was making a pittance off his protection,” Tino murmured back.

“Pittance to him,” Greene said. “It was a hell of a lot to me. A day’s wage won’t even buy a bar of soap from the goddamn commissary. Still, I wish the SOB was still here.” He held out his arm, showing an angry-looking wound from a recent cut. “Some asshole got me in the exercise yard.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Vito said. “Tell me more about Kevin Hale.”

Greene narrowed his eyes. “And you’ll move me to Harrisburg?”

“DA says yes, if what you tell us is verifiable.”

Greene scoffed. “So you’re not promising anything.”

“I’m not allowed to,” Vito said. “You know that. But if you help us, I’ll do my best to help you get closer to your daughter. That I do promise.”

Greene pursed his lips, thinking. Then he nodded. “Like I said, Kevin was a crazy SOB. I mean, really nuts. Like schizo. Should have been medicated. But he could focus, so maybe not schizo. Hell, I’m not a shrink.” He watched Tino for a long moment. “I’m still not sure why you’re here. You’re a sketch artist.”

“In case you can describe someone we might be interested in,” Tino said, which wasn’t a total lie. Not the truth either, but it seemed to satisfy Greene.

“Okay, whatever. Kevin was focused, like I said. You might even say he was obsessed.”

“With?” Vito asked.

“A woman. Oh my God.” Greene rolled his eyes. “Always the same woman. I feel sorry for the chick if he ever finds her.”

“Her name?” Vito asked.

“He called her Charlie. Short for Charlotte, he said.”

A chill ran over Tino’s skin. He’d expected this, but it still freaked him out to hear. His expression must have shown as much because Greene cocked his head.

“You know her, I take it,” Greene said easily.

“He seems to be hunting her,” Vito said. “He’s killed several people already trying to find her. Put another two in the hospital. One was a seventy-five-year-old woman. Beat her near to death.”

Greene scowled. “Now that ain’t right. The ones I killed were young and dishonest. Beating an old woman is just wrong.”

Tino had to squash the most ridiculous urge to laugh but was able to keep his expression neutral. He hoped.

“I agree—with the last part, at least,” Vito said. “What did he say about Charlie?”

“That they were an item in high school. Guy’s got to be pushing forty and he’s still talking about high school.” Another eye roll. “Said she left her boyfriend for him. For Kevin,” he clarified. “He said they were going to get married. He was going to buy her this house.” A put-upon sigh. “Oh my God. Always about the woman and the house.”

“What house?” Vito asked.

“He said he bought her a house. He was so happy with himself.”

“While he was still here?” Vito pressed. “He bought a house from prison?”

“Yep.”

“Was this one of the ‘favors’ he negotiated with other inmates’ families?” Vito asked, making air quotes.

Greene looked reluctantly impressed. “I thought you’d let that detail fly over your head.”

Vito just smiled at him. “How did he buy himself a house?”

Greene hesitated. “If he comes back here, I won’t live a single week.”

“Harrisburg,” Vito said quietly, and Greene nodded.

“Okay. Well, like I said, he dealt in information and favors. One of the inmates was a tiny little guy. So young and way skinnier than me. His mama was worried that he’d die in here, so she agreed—through her son—to whatever Kevin demanded.”

“Name of this inmate?” Vito asked.

“He won’t know it came from me?”

“Nope.”

“Okay. Jason Ruskin. He’s really just a kid. Was barely eighteen when he got here. But he comes from money. Was sentenced to three to five. His first day, I thought he’d pass out from the fear. Anyway, Kevin heard that Jason’s mama started bawling on her first visit, and that was all he needed to know that he had a sucker.”

“So Jason’s mother facilitated the home purchase?” Vito asked, sounding skeptical.

Greene shrugged. “I thought the same thing, like what kind of dope was Kevin smokin’? But then Kevin shows me photos of the place. Nice little house with a picket fence. Blue. Gingerbread trim. Bay windows. Tin roof. Cherry tree out front.”

Another shiver ran down Tino’s spine. That was the same kind of house he’d told Charlotte that he wanted for them twenty-four years ago. How had Hale known?

“How did Kevin pay for it?” Vito asked.

“I don’t know. Robbing a liquor store was what landed him in here, but that didn’t seem like it would be enough to buy a house.”

Vito nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. “Did he say where this house was?”

“No, but if your sketch artist wants, I can describe it and he can draw it.”

“Yes,” Tino said. Because that might be where Hale was hiding.

“In a moment,” Vito said, giving Tino a back-off look.

Tino wanted to argue, but he bit his tongue.

“Talk to me about the information Hale got through the favors,” Vito said.

“News. Contacts. Places to work when he got out. He wanted to work for a construction company. Wanted to learn to build and fix stuff, so that he could work on his house, but nobody would hire him. Not right outta here. But one of the guys—name’s Oscar—got work in a restaurant in the city. Old City, I think. Sushi.” He made a face. “I hate sushi. Kevin went to work there after he got out, according to Oscar. Oscar’s a nice guy.”

Not anymore , Tino thought sadly. Because Oscar Dupree was dead.

“Was any of the news regarding Charlie?” Vito asked.

“Oh yeah. More than half, I’d wager.” He shook his head. “But that didn’t come from Oscar. One of the other guys’ wives would run internet searches on this woman. Charlotte Walsh. Kevin was really furious when she got hurt. Some guy in Memphis broke into her house and stabbed her. Been about a year now. Kevin kept muttering about how the guy was dead as soon as he got out of here.”

And now Charlotte’s attacker was dead as well. Hale had solicited the man’s murder in the Memphis prison just days after his release from the prison in Philly.

“Did Hale keep photos of her?” Vito asked.

“Oh yeah.” Greene grimaced. “Kept them hidden so that the guards didn’t find them. Jacked off to them sometimes. Groaned so loud, he woke me up too many times. It was not easy being that guy’s cellmate, I hafta say.”

Tino felt fury slowly burning him from the inside out, but he ignored it. Stay focused. He’ll pay for what he did to Charlotte and Mrs. J and all the others.

“Pleasant,” Vito said with a grimace of his own.

“Right?” Greene agreed. “One was her wedding picture. It was old, a clipping from a newspaper. He’d pasted a photo of his own face over the husband’s. Kevin just ain’t right.”

“I’d say not,” Vito murmured. “Did the administration here know about Kevin’s protection hustle?”

“Sure. But Kevin never actually hurt anyone. Not bad enough to be reported, anyway. He kind of kept the peace, so the guards let him do it. Just the threat of him was enough to make most of the punks in here back down.”

Vito nodded as if that was what he’d figured. “Okay. Can you describe the house?”

Tino opened the sketch pad he’d been allowed to bring in with him. “Ready when you are.”

“Like I said, it was blue.” Greene began to describe the details, all eerily familiar.

Tino thought he could draw the house without Greene’s description, but he waited for the man to recall each detail, sketching as they went along.

Finally, Greene nodded. “That looks exactly like the photo he showed me. You’re pretty good.”

“You have a good memory,” Tino said.

“I’ll talk to the DA as soon as I leave,” Vito said. “I’ll make sure he knows how helpful you’ve been. Thank you.”

Greene nodded, wincing as he stood, his shackles clanking. “I’ll hold you to that, Lieutenant.”

Tino and Vito sat for a moment while Greene was escorted from the room.

“Hopefully we’ll find his house based on your sketch,” Vito murmured.

“It was going to be our house,” Tino whispered.

Vito frowned at him. “What?”

“When Charlotte and I talked about the future—” He stopped himself, realizing now that he had talked about the future. Charlotte had simply nodded. A dinghy in my wake , he thought sadly. “When I talked about our future, this was the house I described.”

Vito’s expression grew intense. “Does it exist?”

“I don’t know. It must, because Hale bought it. But it was just a dream to me.”

“Let’s go. When we find it, hopefully we’ll find Hale, too.”

They were escorted back to the lobby, but halfway there, the warden came hurrying to them.

“Lieutenant!” he called. “You have a message from a Lieutenant Lawrence.”

Tino felt dread descend upon him. “What did he say?”

“Charlotte Walsh was contacted by Hale. He’s abducted a girl she knows—the daughter of the victim he shot, but who survived. Said if Miss Walsh came to him, he’d let the girl go.”

“Kayla,” Tino whispered, the picture coming together with terrifying force. “She’s trading herself for Kayla.”

“Not exactly,” the warden said. “Walk with me and I’ll bring you up to speed.”