Page 71 of Race to Save Her

Then the man whispered, “Katie.”

FORTY-ONE

Friday 1850 hours

Chris boldly moved closer, flattening himself against the side of the house to get a better vantage of Tyler and what he was doing. Just then the man turned slowly to look at the window, as if he felt like he was being watched.

Chris ducked quickly, hoping he wasn’t seen. He grimaced as he silently berated himself for being too bold and possibly getting caught.

He waited another minute before he slowly rose and looked inside again.

Tyler was gone. He wasn’t in the bedroom. He wasn’t in the living room.

Chris didn’t want to risk being seen at the front of the property, so he cautiously moved to the backyard to go around the house to the front. Keeping his eyes straight and listening for any type of noise, he slowed at the back corner of the house. There was no sign of Tyler.

Chris got that familiar feeling that there was something behind him and when he started to turn he was hit on the head and blacked out.

Chris opened his eyes to find he was lying on the edge of the patio, his cheek pressed against something soft. A searing pain at the back of his head made him raise his arm and touch the painful area. Looking at the palm of his hand, there was blood.

“Ugh,” he moaned. He took another moment to catch his breath and strength before he sat up. His gun was still in place, which was a good sign. Gathering his wits and thoughts, he stood, dizzy for a moment, steadying his balance. Everything came into focus once again and his pulse calmed.

Chris guardedly checked the house and front yard. Tyler’s car was gone. Shelby’s front door was open as if he’d left in a hurry. The deputy was angry at himself for being made.

Chris decided to call for back up and an ambulance. He pulled his phone and dialed 911. “This is Deputy Christopher Anderson, badge number 3944. I’ve been struck on the head, location 1616 Merry Lane.” He sat on the front porch, waiting. He dreaded making the call to the detectives about his failure.

FORTY-TWO

Friday 1915 hours

Katie heard her name whispered, then an eerie echo of it bouncing off the concrete walls gave her chills that weren’t easily shaken. All her instincts told her to run after the man. She felt as if she had gained Superman strength. She wanted to catch this killer who was stalking women before dismembering them and staging body parts around town.

Had he been following the detectives? Did he know what they know? Why was he always several steps ahead of them?

Her adrenalin surged as he ran up the stairs. She could hear the heavy footfalls from the man above her. Her thoughts were focused only on catching him. Of stopping the carnage and keeping women safe. She didn’t care right now why he was already there when they had arrived. She just wanted to arrest him.

Katie felt her strength push her to skip steps to try and catch him. She climbed several more floors, losing count until she heard a door open and close above her. The hinges made a soft whoosh sound.

Katie reached the seventh floor, retrieved her weapon, looped her purse across her neck and shoulder, and flung open the door. The pungent smell of paint and adhesives was almost overwhelming, making Katie pause to push the scent out of her nostrils. Clearly there was some maintenance being done on that floor—there were drop cloths and painting materials, but there weren’t any workers around, most likely due to the time of day.

Katie carefully proceeded down the hallway, relieved to have carpet beneath her sore feet. She moved with absolute silence, like a cat after its prey.

She glanced at the doors and listened to any movement. There was none. He had to be close. She could almost feel his predatory energy as she kept creeping down the hallway, her weapon directed out in front. Carefully dodging and moving around the painting supplies, she felt as if it were a gauntlet she had to run before finding the man.

She was about halfway down the hallway when she heard a door open softly behind her. Spinning around, she targeted her gun.

McGaven had followed her and was her cover. He had shed his suit jacket and tie, and had his weapon drawn, ready for anything.

Katie nodded her relief and gratitude to her partner. She gestured that the unidentified man was somewhere on the floor, in one of the empty rooms.

McGaven instinctively paused at each room and put his ear to the door to listen. Katie thought they should just wait him out. When he opened a door, they would be able to detain him. Her heart pounded and her head felt fuzzy. She used her tunnel-vision drive to try to ignore her discomfort and figure out where the man went. Both detectives were absolutely silent in their approach, but Katie sensed the man was watching through one of the room’s peepholes and had the advantage of surprise.

A strange shadow seemed to flash across the bottom of the door of the room second-to-last on the right. Had someone stealthily moved on the inside?

Katie knew he was in there. She stopped and turned toward her partner, gestured to room 720.

McGaven quietly moved to the other side of the door and Katie took the right. Listening intently, it remained quiet inside.

Katie couldn’t wait anymore; she wanted to have the element of surprise. She nodded to McGaven.