By Cody McFadyen

For FBI unique Agent Smoky Barrett, her colleague’s marriage ceremony is reason for get together. till a girl staggers down the aisle—incoherent, donning just a white nightgown. A fingerprint fee determines that she’s been lacking for almost 8 years. Her coldly effective captor toyed together with her brain and physique, imprisoning her, depriving her of any touch with the surface international. As Smoky suits jointly the items of what is still of the victim’s fractured lifestyles, a chilling photograph emerges of a cerebral psychopath who doesn’t take homicide individually, by no means makes a mistake, follows his personal sinister good judgment, and has set the precise trap. 

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One strange thing. ” I ask. ” “This is starting to sound like purposeful imprisonment,” I say. “No evidence of sexual abuse— though we’ll have to hear from her to be certain about that. Torture, but not excessive. He fed her, made her exercise. ” “Which begs the question,” Alan says. “Why let her go now? ” We’re all silent. No one has an answer. “First goal is to identify her,” I say. “He took her for a reason, however he treated her. ” I take a breath. Prepare myself. “Now. ” I give them a detailed account, explaining everything.

He shakes his head. “No. I need you to hear it from her. ” Now I can hear the fear, hear it in my voice. It’s bubbled up and found its sly way into my vocal cords. He takes my hands in his. “Because,” he says. “I believe her. ” I yank my hands away. They’re shaking. “Go see her. ” I’m standing outside Bonnie’s door, hand raised to knock. I lower it and grip the knob instead. She killed a cat. Shot it in the head. Whatever the reason, she’s lost her right to privacy. It feels like a meaningless gesture, but this again is familiar territory, and it comforts me.

I walk over, stand next to him, and place a hand in the small of his back, that comfortable spot. He moves some bacon over onto a paper towel to drain the grease. It sizzles deliciously. ” he asks. ” He nods toward the refrigerator. ” “My favorite. ” He gives the slightest shrug. ” I murmur, low enough that Bonnie can’t hear me. “Nope. I doubt we will either. ” I lean against the counter and sip my coffee and watch as she sets the table. She catches me watching and gives me yet another tentative smile.

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