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Carefree.

“If she did tell me something,” Sarah said, “why would I tell you?”

Aspen shrugged.

“Because I’m trying to find out what happened. She was my friend.”

Sarah shifted a worn backpack to her other shoulder.

“Let me think about it for a minute,” Sarah said. “I need to figure out if Rachel would want me to talk to you or not.”

They walked in silence.

Then Sarah said, “She was sexually assaulted, but not raped, at least technically, since there was no penetration.”

“By who?”

“She wouldn’t say, but I always had the impression it was someone she knew. My guess is either another attorney in the firm or a client. Anyway, the whole thing really had an impact on her, but at the same time she almost seemed to defend the guy, saying he was drunk, lonely, stuff like that. She couldn’t stay at the firm though, she knew that much. She was already floating her resume when she disappeared.”

“Did she report it?”

“You mean to the police? No.”

“How about to the law firm?”

Sarah exhaled.

“I told her to,” Sarah said, “but I don’t know if she ever did or not. She was ashamed by the whole thing. She said that if word ever got out, then her career as a lawyer would be over, especially if someone put a spin on it and put the blame on her. I told her she was nuts but couldn’t get her to see things the way she should.” Sarah looked into Aspen’s eyes. “I’m only telling you this now because if it does have something to do with her death, then it’s time to get it out in the open. You seem like a genuinely good person.”

“I don’t know if I’d say genuinely.”

Sarah laughed.

“I’m not even sure I’d say good.”

“But person,” Sarah said. “You’d at least say that.”

Aspen nodded.

“That much I can admit to.”

Aspen had a ton of work on her desk and would already be cutting the day short, even if she headed back to the office right now. But it looked like Sarah needed to talk.

“You want to get some coffee?” Aspen asked.

74

DAY ELEVEN-SEPTEMBER 15

THURSDAY AFTERNOON

Draven’s vehicle almost stopped in time but didn’t, hitting the deer directly in the chest. The animal shot backwards, landed on its side, muscled itself up in a panic and then limped into the mountainside.

“Shit!”

Draven got out and found the front end nearly destroyed. The hood had buckled and couldn’t be opened. Antifreeze dripped onto the ground, not a lot, but enough to indicate a puncture in the radiator or a hose.

“Dumb-ass animal!”

He picked up a rock and threw it at the deer. Astonishingly, he actually hit it, and not just anywhere, but right in the back of the head. The animal immediately fell to the ground and didn’t get up.

“Serves you right.”

He got back in the car and squealed off. He already had enough goddamn stuff on his plate without this. When he arrived at the cabin twenty minutes later he left the engine running and looked under the front end, trying to determine how fast the radiator was draining. The leak, while still present, was barely perceptible. The gauges reported a normal engine temperature.

Okay.

Good.

Maybe things weren’t as bad as he thought.

He turned off the engine and stepped to the front door of the cabin. It was locked, as it should be. Everything appeared to be exactly as he’d left it. He used his key to enter and walked straight into the bedroom.

The tattoo woman-Mia Avila-was still tied to the bed, exactly as she should be. Except unlike the last time he’d seen her, she was awake now.

The drugs would have worn off long ago.

“Visitor,” he said.

Her face twisted into a panic.

But he focused more on the urine smell coming from the sheets. He almost slapped her but reminded himself that it wasn’t her fault. No one could have held it that long.

He untied her and let her shower while he watched. Then he put her in a fresh T-shirt and let her eat until she’d had her fill-cereal, fruit, a sandwich, yogurt, and lots of coffee. He made her remove all the old bedding. Then he flipped the mattress over and let her put fresh sheets on.

She must have sensed that he wasn’t there to kill her, because the stress fell off her face.

She looked pretty, actually, especially considering what she’d been through.

“Can we go outside?” she asked.

Draven didn’t like the idea.

“Just for a few minutes?” she added. “I won’t try anything, I promise. There’s no air in here. I can hardly breathe.”

She was right, actually.

It was stuffy as hell.

“Fine,” he said. “But first I’m going to tie your hands behind your back.”

She nodded.

“No problem.”

“And if you try anything…”

“I won’t, you have my word.”

As he tied her hands he wondered if he should tie her feet too. No, that wasn’t necessary. She couldn’t go anywhere barefoot. The mountains would eat her feet alive within ten steps. They ended up sitting on the steps of the back porch, with the sun on their faces. Draven took his knife out and tossed it from one hand to the other. Then he spotted a fairly straight stick and whittled it into a spear.

“Thanks,” the woman said. “I really appreciate this.”

“No problem.”

His thoughts drifted to the things he needed to do-keep Mia secured until the client killed her, and then dispose of her body; snatch the rich-bitch Davica Holland; dispose of the tow truck; deal with the damage to the car; get Gretchen out to California where they could finally kick back and relax.

Suddenly he heard a vehicle.

It pulled to the front of the cabin and stopped.

Draven immediately put the knife to Mia’s throat.

“Don’t make a goddamn sound!”

She nodded.

Draven jerked her up by the arm to get her back into the cabin. Then something bad happened. The doorknob wouldn’t turn. The little shit was locked! He’d left the keys on the kitchen counter.

He pulled off his T-shirt, ripped off a section and gagged the woman.

She didn’t resist.

In fact she held perfectly still.

Someone knocked on the front door. “Anyone home?”

Draven poked the knife into Mia’s throat. “Lay down on your stomach and don’t move!”

She obeyed.

Draven walked around the side of the house, gave her one last threatening look before he disappeared around the corner, and found the owner’s son standing at the front door-the same kid who met Draven at the cabin initially, to show him around and get his money.

Draven stuffed the knife behind his back and smiled as nonchalantly as he could.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“There you are,” the kid said.

“Right. What’s going on?”

“My dad wanted me to swing by and give you a heads up that someone from the state’s going to be coming by to take a sample from the well,” the kid said.

“Why?”

“I don’t know. My dad just wanted to be sure you knew it was coming, in case you came back and found a car here or something like that.”

Draven nodded.

“Tell your dad thanks, I really appreciate it.”

The kid headed towards his car.

“When are they coming?” Draven asked.

The kid stopped walking and tried to think. Finally he gave up. “I can’t remember. Sometime within the next week, I think.”

“Okay. Thanks again.”

As soon as the kid pulled away, Draven ran around the side of the cabin.

The woman was gone.

He looked at the mountains.

In every direction.

And saw her nowhere.

“Bitch!” he shouted as loud as he could. “Get your ass back here right now!”

75

DAY ELEVEN-SEPTEMBER 15

THURSDAY EVENING

It was dark outside and Teffinger was alone in homicide, feeling the weight of the day, when the phone company finally faxed over Chase’s cell phone records. On Monday she’d received about fifteen calls.