“Is he strong enough to overpower Holly?”
“Yes, if he could neutralize her before she could get hold of her weapon.”
“That’s good enough for me,” Rawls said.
They had passed through the village and were headed north. “There’s the sign up ahead,” Stone said. “Drive on past, and we’ll work our way back.”
Rawls drove past the house without slowing and, when he saw a narrow road to the right, cut his lights and turned in, using his gears to slow the big vehicle so as not to use his brakes, thus turning on the brake lights. Through the trees on their right they could see both the workshop and the house. The workshop was dark, but lights burned in the house windows.
“How do you want to do this?” Rawls asked, grabbing his shotgun from the rear seat.
“First, let’s check the workshop and any outbuildings,” Stone said. “Then we’ll see what we can see through the house windows.”
“All right. Is this guy likely to have an alarm system?”
“Yes,” Stone said. “Come on.” He began walking through the trees toward the workshop, and Rawls followed.
HOLLY CAME TO SLOWLY. Her head hurt on the right side. She tried to put a hand to it, but found herself spread-eagled on a bed, her hands and feet tied. Her mouth was taped shut, and so were her eyes. There was something in each ear, too, shutting out sound.
All she could do was smell, and she concentrated on that. Mildew. Maybe saltwater. She tried rolling back and forth on the bed as far as she could, to see if she could feel the weight of her firearm. She thought it was still there. The bed made squeaking noises. Bare springs under a thin mattress. The mildew smell was coming from the mattress. Old. Disused. She thought she picked up the smell of rotting wood, too.
She tried twisting her hands and feet to shake loose at least one limb. She felt the head of an iron bedstead, rusted. She was tied to that. God, her head hurt.
STONE AND RAWLS worked their way around the workshop to the side away from the house. A breeze brought the scent of the sea, apparently not far away, through the trees. Stone could see some small source of light inside the workshop, and he crept closer for a look through a window.
Suddenly, they were bathed in bright light. “Shit, motion detectors,” Stone said. “That’ll bring him running. Let’s get out of here.”
They ran in the direction opposite the one they had come, hiding behind some bushes. They flushed a deer, which ran toward the house as the porch light of the house came on and Hal Rhinehart came out the door, a shotgun in his hand. He raised it to his shoulder for a shot at the animal, but it was gone. “It was just a deer,” he shouted to his wife.
He came toward the workshop, the shotgun at the ready, and circumnavigated it, then went back into the house and turned off the porch light.
“That was a near thing,” Rawls said.
“Yes, it was. I’m glad he didn’t have a dog with him.”
“You think the house has those lights, too?”
“Probably. I expect he has two alarm systems, one for the workshop and one for the house. You noticed that only the porch light went on when he came out?”
“Yeah, he probably hadn’t armed the system.”
“He may have by now.”
“You’ve been inside the workshop?”
“Yes, a couple of times.”
“What’s in there?”
“A big workroom with a lot of power tools, an office, a storeroom, or what appeared to be one. Probably a paint shop, too.”
“Let’s see if there are any other outbuildings,” Rawls said.
They walked through the woods, keeping the house on their left. “All I see is what appears to be a shed for tools or wood,” Stone said.
“Well, Young and his crowd would have searched the premises by now, wouldn’t they?”
“I don’t know where the hell they are,” Stone said.
He didn’t know where the hell Holly was, either.
Chapter 42
HOLLY WOKE UP with a start. It had been chilly, but it was warming up. Must be daylight. The tape over her eyes allowed no light to enter. She needed to pee really badly, and she struggled again with her bonds, trying to free herself. If she could just get one hand free…
Then she heard a noise, a door closing. Footsteps, lightly, on stairs, then somebody was in the room with her. She tried to speak but could only make noises through her nose. She listened carefully.
Someone approached the bed where she lay. There was a metallic clank next to the bed, then whoever he was grabbed her sweatpants by the thighs and pulled them down. She struggled, but he pulled down the cotton underwear she was wearing, too, then put an arm under her waist, lifted her off the bed and shoved something made of cold metal under her ass. A bedpan. She peed, long and gratefully.
When she had finished, he removed the bedpan, pulled her panties and sweatpants up. Then she heard the sound of paper or cellophane being crinkled. Suddenly, the tape was ripped off her mouth.
“What the hell…” she was saying, but something was crammed into her mouth, filling it. Candy bar. She chewed madly, trying to swallow so she could talk, but the second she got it down, he was pouring water into her mouth. She swallowed, washing down the candy bar, but before she could speak, she heard a ripping noise, and her mouth was taped again. Duct tape, she reckoned. He seemed to inspect her bonds, one at a time, to be sure they hadn’t loosened.
She heard him walk across the room and open a door, then the sound of the bedpan being emptied and a toilet being flushed, then running water. He walked down the stairs, and she heard a door open and close. He hadn’t said a word.
STONE LAY ON HIS BED trying to sleep, telling himself he would be no good to Holly if he was exhausted. Finally, very late he dozed off. He woke to the sound of the ringing telephone. He rolled over in bed and grabbed it. “Hello?”
“It’s Sergeant Young. Has Holly returned?”
“No, Sergeant, she hasn’t, and I’m beyond being just worried.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t get your message earlier, but I’ve been to the mainland and back.”
“Can you keep an eye out for her in your search?”
“We’ve completed most of the search,” Young said. “I had forty people tramping every foot of the island, and we’ve done two-thirds of it. Then, the second woman’s body was found, and I called it off because nobody was missing anymore.”
Stone looked at his watch: eight-fifteen. “Well, you’ve got to get the search going again,” he said, “because whoever is doing this has taken Holly, and he’s getting more dangerous.”
“Why more dangerous?”
“It’s a pattern with some serial killers: Their pace accelerates, they enjoy it more and more. Sometimes they become more reckless, as if they want to get caught.”
“But some of these people go on for years, almost on a regular schedule.”
“Not this guy. He wants more and more, and he’s getting it. He may stop for a few days, but he won’t be able to resist starting again. Three women in less than forty-eight hours: Doesn’t that tell you something?”
“I’ll get on the phone and get some people together. What time did you last see Holly yesterday?”
“About noon, when I went to lunch with Caleb Stone.”
“So we can ignore the parts of the island we searched after noon and concentrate on the rest.”
“Good idea. Have you searched Hal Rhinehart’s place?”
“Not yet.”
“Please go there first.”
“Why?”
“Rhinehart has a criminal background. Dino and I got him for a series of high-end burglaries in New York years ago. He’s done time.”
“Did any of the burglaries have sexual overtones? Did he rape any of his victims?”
“Not that we knew of, but still…”
“All right, we’ll start there.”