Either way, he’d have to face whatever situation he found unarmed.
When he and two guards reached the interview room, Seides stood in the doorway. He looked to Bobby, desperation in his eyes. “Detective, I didn’t know. I—”
Bobby breezed past him. The room was empty.
Acid slammed into his gut with the force of a hard fist. He scanned the smashed camera, the chair on the tabletop. The open air duct. His throat constricted. “Where does that duct lead?”
Seides stared at Bobby as if he suddenly didn’t speak English.
Another guard pushed past Seides. “It runs through the whole wing. But half of this wing is being remodeled. It’s sealed off from the rest of the building. We’ll have to go through the construction entrance to access it.”
Bobby crossed the floor to the table. “Then go. I’ll go this way. And remember, he has a hostage.”
Bobby bounded onto the table, trying not to think what Dryden might be doing to her or how frightened she must be. Using the chair as a step stool, he hoisted himself into the vent. The space was cramped and dark. The metal creaked under his weight. He slid along on his belly, his pulse thumping so hard in his ears, he was sure Dryden could hear it echoing through the ductwork.
Bobby crawled until the air duct split into a T. Holding his breath, he listened for something, anything that would tell him which direction Dryden had gone.
A low, male voice rumbled through the vent.
Bobby turned in the direction of the sound.
The voice grew louder, one moment threatening, the next hushed.
A faint light glowed ahead. A spot where the vent opened into another room.
Bobby slowed down his movement. Reaching the vent, he peered down through the open hole and into a murky room.
Diana lay on the floor below in her bra and jeans, her exposed skin white against dark gray concrete. Her arms were pinned behind her back, probably tied. Her own jeans seemed to be binding her ankles.
Bobby gripped the sharp edge of the vent. The metal bit into his fingers, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything but getting his hands on Dryden and pounding the bastard’s head into the ground until he was dead.
Diana looked up. Her gaze met Bobby’s.
He nodded to her, trying to reassure her, trying to let her know everything would be okay.
That he would make it okay.
Her eyebrows lowered. Her lips curled inward. She stared at him, not with relief, but with anger. As if she was warning him away. As if she wanted Dryden with her, wanted what he was doing to her. As if Bobby was the problem.
What in the hell?
Dryden crouched over her, shoving his face close to hers. “Tell me more, sweetheart.”
Bobby’s head pounded. What was going on? Why had Diana looked at him like that? She couldn’t hate him for trying to save her. That would be stupid. More than stupid. If he didn’t save her from Dryden, she’d die.
“Daddy wants to know more.”
“Um....”
“Yes?”
“She was naked.”
“Of course, she was. You just said he cut off her clothing.”
“Yes, yes, of course. You could see… She had this cut down her middle.”
“Like here?” Dryden used the flat side of the knife to trace a line from Diana’s throat, down between her breasts, to the waistband of her jeans.
Bobby tensed. Dryden wasn’t yet under him. If he jumped, he’d land to the side of the killer. Dryden could still use that knife on Diana. He could kill her before Bobby had time to take him out.
He had to wait until Dryden moved under the vent.
“Yes.”
“But we’re getting ahead of ourselves, aren’t we?”
“Uh, I don’t know.”
“Then take it from Daddy. Yes, we are.”
“I’m sorry.”
“What did he do before he cut her?”
“Uh, he cut off her clothes.”
“Yes, we went through that.” Dryden slipped the knife blade under one of the shoulder straps of Diana’s bra. With a sharp pull upward, he sliced it clean. “Did he do it like this?”
“Um, I don’t know. I guess.” Diana’s voice trembled, as if she was barely holding it together.
“And maybe he did this?” Dryden sliced the other strap.
Bobby’s ears pounded. He had to jump. He couldn’t take the chance that Dryden’s frustration with Diana would grow. He couldn’t risk the son of a bitch cutting her.
“He let her loose. He hunted her.”
“Well that’s interesting. I’m glad you remembered. Was it somewhere she could scream and scream and never be heard by anyone but him?” His voice sounded almost giddy, as if he was reliving his own sick hunts, hearing the panicked screams, soaking in his victim’s fear.
“I… I don’t know.”
Dryden’s gaze snapped back to Diana’s face. He traced the knife blade along the line of her collarbone. “Was it in a forest? Did he hunt her naked in a forest?”
“I don’t know. How can I tell you where he hunted her if I don’t know?”
Dryden trailed the knife down over the curve of each breast, the side of the blade rasping over lace. “I know where.”
“Then you tell me.”
Bobby’s gut seized. He knew what she was doing. He knew why she’d looked at him the way she had, why she’d warned him off.
Damn.
She wanted to save the governor’s daughter-in-law.
He gripped the vent’s edge harder, letting the steel cut him, feeling the blood hot and sticky on his skin. All he’d ever wanted was to keep Diana safe. All he’d ever wanted was for her to be happy, for both of them to be happy.
He stared down at her, running his gaze over her golden hair, her high cheekbones, her soft, beautiful face. He loved her with all his heart, all his soul, all himself.
The question was, did he have the guts to trust her?
Diana
Diana held her breath, waiting for Dryden’s knife to slice into her flesh, waiting for Bobby to jump down from above, waiting for... something.
Nothing happened.
She scooped in a breath, dust tickling deep in her throat. “You tell me. Unless you didn’t decide that part. Unless you really don’t know.”
“In time.” He moved the blade up to the hollow between her collarbones. “You remind me of old times. All the things I wrote to the copycat. All the things I told him to do. I need you to tell me if he did them the way he was supposed to. If he did everything right.”
“I’ll try.”
“Good.” He licked his lips. “So he hunted her in the woods?”
“I think so.”
“Not good enough.”
“Did he wound her with the rifle?”
Diana had no idea, but at this point, it really didn’t matter. “Yes.”
“After he hunted her, after he wounded her with the rifle, did he drag her by the hair? Did he tie her down?”
Just the things Dryden had done to her tonight.
She shuddered involuntarily. “Yes.”
“Did he run a blade between her breasts?” He traced the path down Diana’s body with the flat side of his blade. “Did he cut down the middle of her belly? Did he slice her all the way down?”
White noise rang in her ears, drowning out the sound of Dryden’s blade rasping against the denim of her jeans. “Stop. Please.”
“Did he, sweetheart?”
She tried to answer. She tried to breathe. “Yes.”
“Are you afraid I’ll do that to you?”
Her mind roared. She had to push away the panic. She had to hold on. She had to get him to tell her where Louis had hunted.