“This is what you wanted, right?” he asked Ava. His wide, expectant eyes reminded her of a child’s.

“Wasn’t there a woman, too?” she asked. Clearly he wanted her praise for bringing the scumbag to her feet, but she wasn’t comfortable commending his actions. What did he expect her to do with her twin’s boyfriend?

“We don’t need her,” he stated confidently. “She wasn’t real. She was only pretending to be you.”

More accurate than you realize.

“You let her go?”

He made a dismissive gesture. “She left. Wait.” He darted out the door, leaving it open, and reappeared before Ava could think. He held out a bunch of daisies for her, watching her with hopeful eyes. In his other hand he held a gasoline can—the red plastic type people use to store gasoline for their lawn mowers.

She didn’t move, her gaze going from the gas can to the daisies, and then to his face. Oh shit. She wanted to ask his name, but he’d spoken like they’d already had several discussions. His emotions had swung from one end of the spectrum to the other, and she didn’t want to trigger more anger. “Thank you.” What is the gas can for?

His face lit up, but Derrick Snyder started to mumble from behind his ball gag.

“Should you take that off of him? I’d hate to see him choke.”

The tall man bent at the waist and laughed, setting down the gas can and crushing the daisies against his thigh. Ava blinked and glanced at Derrick, who seemed as stunned as she felt. I’m missing something big here.

“Oh,” he laughed, wiping at his eyes. “I haven’t heard anything that good in a long time.”

“You’re welcome.”

He tossed the daisies beside her, stepped over next to Derrick, and crouched down to look the man in the eye.

Ava caught her breath. Run! Kick him over!

But what would she find outside? They could be miles from help.

There has to be a vehicle. She stared at the man’s pants pockets, searching for the outline of keys.

“Are you ready?” the man said to Derrick. “You realize you’re going to pay today, right? You’re going to feel every ounce of pain that Colleen felt back then, you cowardly piece of shit. You know exactly why I have that gas can, don’t you?”

Derrick shook his head and protested behind the ball, his feet pushing against the floor and scooting him away from the man.

Colleen? Terror inched up Ava’s spine as the scent of the fuel in the can stung her nose.

The man pointed at Ava. “She’s too kind. I would have requested that you be burned alive if I were in her position. Instead she asked for you to be made more comfortable. I guess she’s blocked the memory of the agony you gave her.

“This time the roles are reversed. She’ll get to watch as you suffer.” He turned his head toward Ava, his mouth in a dreamy smile, his eyes unfocused. He slid a utility knife out of his coat pocket, and Ava couldn’t breathe.

Mason stepped out of Ray’s car and into a flurry of action. White-and-blue Portland police vehicles lined the streets and driveways near Jayne’s last reported location. Cops were knocking on doors and talking to people on the street, searching for Ava’s flighty sister and possibly the Bridge Killer. Older, depressed-looking homes lined the neighborhood, along with a few struggling businesses at each intersection. The mist falling from the sky made the area more dreary.

He spotted Zander moving toward a group of cops and men in suits who seemed to be the hub of organization. “Over there.” He gestured and Ray nodded.

As he neared the group, he noticed one of the cops holding up a tablet showing an image of Jayne that had to be from an old driver’s license. Mason grimaced. The woman in the picture looked happy and healthy. “She doesn’t look like that anymore,” he announced as he joined the group. “She’s a lot thinner and looks like someone who’s been living on the streets with meth. And she’s not blond today—she’s dark-haired. You’ll notice her eyes first. They’re a distinctive dark blue.”

All faces in the group turned his way. He nodded at them and introduced himself and Ray. “We’re part of the Bridge Killer Task Force, and you’ve probably heard by now that Jayne McLane claims the killer grabbed her boyfriend. We’re giving the story quite a bit of weight.”

“Why?” asked one of the cops. “From what I’ve heard, she’s a junkie. Why would you believe anything she says?”

Mason wasn’t ready to reveal that they were relying on grainy video from the convenience store where Ava’d been kidnapped. “She’s not the only source. Believe me, we want the guy who she says took her boyfriend.” He held the questioning cop’s gaze and the man looked away.

He scanned the group. “Find her. And we’re looking for this guy.” Ray passed around his phone with the image he’d snapped from the convenience store video. The image wasn’t great. The man’s face was shadowed by his hat and grainy from the monitor.

“Send those images to central so they can get them out to us,” requested one of the officers.

“I did two minutes ago. You should have them soon,” answered Ray. “We also requested images of Derrick Snyder be sent out. He’s the one who Jayne McLane claimed was grabbed and may be on his way to becoming the next victim of the Bridge Killer.”

“We’re also looking for FBI Special Agent Ava McLane.” Mason tried to keep his voice steady. “She was nabbed an hour ago at the convenience store six blocks from here. Possibly the Bridge Killer is holding her and Derrick Snyder in this area.”