8
Zach was trapped in a nightmare.
He stood beside one of many cop cars. Spotlights shone through the darkness, focused on the old storage facility. Eerie blue and red pulses from the cars’ flashing lights reflected off every surface.
It looked like the inside of Zach’s head. Pulsing. Chaotic. The lights from the two ambulances parked nearby only added to it.
“Are the women okay?” he asked for the third time.
The uniformed officer he faced considered the question and finally answered. “They seem fine. They’re being checked over and will be out soon.”
Zach’s tension diminished fractionally.
“So let’s go over this again,” the cop said.
Zach struggled to focus on the man. The horrible, rendingpainof the women they’d found inside had abated, somewhat. But now it was swamped by thehostilityandsuspicionof the cops swarming the place like ants. And some of those emotions blasted at him from the man who’d asked the question. This officer had eyes that had seen too much violence. And ears that had heard too many lies.
Zach’s mental pain translated to a physical twitchiness. He couldn’t stand still, and his fingers opened and closed as though gripping an invisible foe. It set off every instinct the officer possessed and screamed that Zach had to be lying. And he was. But there was no way he could tell the truth. In this case, it would get him locked up faster than he could blink. And he wasn’t talking about the local jail, either.
So he schooled his expression to one of mild distress, crossed his arms to keep his fingers still, and repeated what he’d told them before. “I got lost looking for my last delivery. Stopped by a guy out in the road and asked him for directions. He was kinda hostile. While I was talking to him, I heard a scream.”
The cop wearily scanned him. “You heard a scream?” His gaze moved from where they stood at the entrance to the storage facility’s lot, to the road, and then to the building. “Building’s old, but it’s got good insulation. And your truck was running.”
Zach shrugged. “What can I say? I can only tell you what I heard.” His head ached so badly he could barely see. He needed to wrap this up and get the hell out of here.
“Do you think you can describe this guy?”
Zach’s gut twisted. “You didn’t catch him?”
The officer hesitated before shaking his head. “Only found the women,” he admitted. “So if you gave us a description, it would be helpful.”
“He was big, over six feet—”
The officer waved a hand to cut him off. “Not here. I need you to come to the station, so we can use our ID software to put together a composite.”
Bloody hell.Zach started to panic. “The station?” He stiffened, and his fingers spasmed, digging into his arms.
The officer’s gaze sharpened. “Yeah.”
“Can I come tomorrow?” No way he could cope with it tonight.
The officer’s instincts were firing on all cylinders. “I’m sorry, but time is of the essence. I will have someone take you there.”
“I can drive. I need my van.”
Zach’s desperation only added to the man’s suspicion. “We will bring you back to your van. It will be safe here. Our forensics team will be working all night.”
Zach swallowed. Trapped. His throat locked up, and he couldn’t speak. He simply nodded.
Movement from the building distracted him. More officers appeared, escorting three women who squinted and blinked in the flashing lights.
One had bright-red, wavy hair and olive skin. Her pale-gray eyes scanned the crowd of officers, fell on Zach, and widened.
Jessie.
A jolt shot through him, and from her, there was an answeringconnectionthat pulsed with bothreliefandcuriosity. And a surge of something else that sent his heart racing.
He took an involuntary step toward her, and her stride hitched like she was about to turn his way.
