Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 114260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
I know.
“Stop!”
The truck comes to a screeching halt as he yanks the steering wheel to the right and pulls to the side of the road. “What is it?”
“The flowers. Oh, God, Cain, the flowers. You said you think this guy has history in France, right?”
“Yes.”
“The flowers he’s been sending. The beautiful purplish-blue flowers, those are irises, right? He puts them next to the baby’s breath.”
He’s staring at me now with so much intensity, I feel hot under the glare. “Yes?”
“The iris is the national flower of France. Baby’s breath represents innocence, doesn’t it?”
He nods.
“Criminals who leave clues think they’re clever, that they can outsmart the police. Most of them are narcissists. He did this out of pride, to taunt us.”
“Did what?” He’s clearly running out of patience.
I talk faster. “The fleur-de-lis emblem, the one with the flower and leaves? French symbol. Fleur-de-lis. He’s taken every single woman right here in Salem, the very same city with the Fleur-de-lis Memorial.”
His phone rings again as he pulls back out into the intersection. Joe.
“Boss, we found something we think you need to know.”
“Don’t keep me waiting.”
“You ordered us to find the names of the people killed in the counterattack of the Embassy to see if anyone was connected to Dossier. We found none by the name of Dossier, sir. We did, however, find a Dozier. Actually, two. Twins. One was killed, the survivor moved to America. We found him, and he fits the profile of the man they’ve suspected of being behind these attacks.”
I suddenly feel cold. “Could… someone from another country become a police officer here in the States?”
“Depends on the state but yes, many departments will allow it.”
“So the former police officer that’s suspected in the abductions and rape cases… could’ve been the same man you fought overseas… especially if he fudged his age here in the U.S.”
“Yes.”
I think this over. “Cain. Dozier’s French for willow… it’s the surname for someone who lived near a plantation of willows… if you killed his twin…” I smack my forehead. “Skip the bar, we can’t go there. We have to go to the Salem Willows, it’s where the Fleur-de-lis Memorial is!” My heart races with excitement. We’ve had a breakthrough. “It’s a hunch, but my hunches are very, very good.”
“Don’t get too excited. He likely laid this out precisely so we’d find him. Remember, Skylar said it was a setup.”
The Salem Willows Park is thirty-five acres along the ocean, named because of the white willow trees planted along the walkways to offer shade. The long, graceful branches nearly graze the ground they’ve grown so long, and on warm summer days like today, it’s not unusual to find families strolling along the paths, ice cream cones in hand, or cyclists whizzing past on two wheels. The rocky beach borders large, grassy fields, where people often picnic or play frisbee.
Around the Willows, though, are several residential houses, apartment complexes and rentals, video arcades and vendors selling carnival food and treats.
The Fleur-de-lis Memorial stands in the center of Salem Willows Park, only steps away from the main attractions.
When we arrive, the park is teeming with people, dogs, and bicyclists. We park the truck at the edge and move quickly to the Fleur-de-lis.
My skin prickles.
Here. He’s here.
They’re here. I know they are.
Cain whips his head around, scouring the passersby, but it’s hard to tell even where to begin.
“Too many people here,” he mutters. “Too many goddamn civilians. We’ll have to find them and isolate them.”
A shiver skates down my spine. I’ve read what he does to them when he has them alone. “But first we have to find them.”
When we draw near to the Fleur-de-lis, I don’t see anything that can lead us to where Dossier’s got Skylar.
We walk up and down the paths, intent on finding details or something that would give us a clue.
Near the arcade, something purple catches my eye.
“Cain.” I point wordlessly, as my stomach churns with acid. Bordering the entrance to the arcade are gorgeous purple irises in full bloom.
“They usually bloom earlier in the year,” I say to Cain, shaking my head. “But spring was late with the cold weather, and they’ve bloomed later than usual.” He exhales as I continue, “He used those flowers because he wants you to find him.”
His hand takes mine as we walk side by side. “You ready for this?” Cain asks.
“The man tried to attack me. He used intimidation tactics and hurt me. He came after your sister and other innocent women and did the very worst things he could have. Am I ready for this?” I huff out a mirthless laugh. “I may fight you off so I can kill him myself.”
My breathing hitches when he tugs me a little closer to him and says in a low voice laced with approval, “That’s my girl. We’ll fight him. We’ll rescue Skylar. And then we’ll kill him.”