Page 63 of Riptide
"Not on the phone. Meet me. Tonight. Eight o'clock."
"Where?"
"Old lighthouse keeper's cottage. You know it?"
Cara's blood ran cold. "Yes, but?—"
"Come alone. This is serious, Cara. I need to know—" Blaire's voice broke. "I need to know if you did this."
"Did what? Blaire, I don't understand?—"
"Just be there. Alone. This is between you and me."
The line went dead.
Cara lowered the phone slowly.
"Well," Wade said. "That's one way to get a meeting."
"The lighthouse cottage," Reagan said. "That's isolated. Could be dangerous."
"Could also be our chance," Cara said. "She's panicked. She might say things she wouldn't normally."
Wade was already moving. "I need to scout the location. Set up positions."
"I need equipment," Tom said. "Cameras, listening devices, encrypted comms."
Piper looked between them. "This is really happening? Tonight?"
"This is happening," Wade confirmed. He looked at Cara. "You sure you want to do this?"
Cara thought about Shawn Forsythe. About the other victims.
"I'm sure."
"Then let's move," Wade said.
The team scattered into motion.
Cara stood in the center of the chaos, phone still in her hand.
Reagan touched her arm. "You don't have to do this."
"Yes, I do."
"Why?"
Cara looked at Tom's screen, still showing the long list of names.
"Because someone has to stop her," Cara said.
19
The Haven Covepolice station was too quiet at almost 20:00 hrs.
Gabe sat at his desk, staring at paperwork he hadn't read in twenty minutes. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting harsh shadows across budget reports and incident forms that meant nothing now.
Dispatch was handled by the county after hours. The building was empty except for him.
