Page 138 of Stalker

Something deep inside my mind told me in no uncertain terms he would die without it.

My phone. What were the chances my fucked-up brain remembered the locking sequence on the keypad? I’d tried to pay close attention, but so much had been said, and my jumbled emotions were making thinking difficult.

I jogged into his office, scanning the room. A weapon would also be a good idea. First… I easily exposed the vault, mentally high fiving myself for the second success. Maybe I could join the ranks of being a criminal mastermind after all.

My fingers shaking, I tried the combination. Nothing. I repeated the sequence and groaned when I noticed a flashing light. My guess was that one more failed attempt and I’d be permanently locked out.

Damn it.

“Think. Think!” I closed my eyes, doing what I could to relax my mind, allowing numbers to slide into my mind.

They were jumbled and in truth, when a series of them kept repeating, I had no idea if I’d fail or not but no pain, no gain. I pressed my index finger against the keypad, taking a step back.

Another click.

This time, I was elated, stifling a squeal as I opened it, instantly yanking my phone into my hand. My breathing more labored than before, I dialed Cash’s number.

“Oh, thank God. Where the hell are you?” he asked in his demanding, incredible tone. “The fucking program keeps getting blocked.”

“The question is where are you?”

As he relayed the information, I moved toward the front door. “You’re close. So close. I’ll head toward you.”

“Jesus, Cassandra. You need to level with me. What in the hell is going on?”

“I’ll tell you when I’m in your car. If you’re tracking me, reactivate the system.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can, but listen to me. More women are missing.”

“Their father took them. I’m certain of it. If only he hadn’t escaped, then none of this would be happening.”

Cash snorted. “My guess is you’re right in that in Demarco had something to do with their disappearance, but there’s something odd that you need to know.”

I searched the room for a weapon, opening and slamming several drawers. Wilder was too smart to hide one in plain view. “What?”

“Cain Demarco didn’t escape.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying he served his time. He was released for good fucking behavior ten years ahead of when he should have been.”

“A serial killer? Who the fuck botched the prosecution? Who the hell let him out?” My mind rushed to everything I’d suggested to Wilder. People were on the take and my guess was that my boss knew exactly who they were. A cold shiver drifted down my spine from the thought.

“I tried looking into it until I jumped into my car, but I swear to God, every file I attempted to access was under lock and key.”

“Of course. Just get here, Cash. We need to stop this.”

“There’s more. Drew Monahan was killed inside his jail cell. No one know how someone managed to get to him.”

“Fuck. There’s more going on. This is dangerous.”

“Yeah, and did you know Cain Demarco still owns property just outside Chicago? When I cross referenced the man’s name in the database, that popped up. What are the odds the property wasn’t sold?”

A cold shiver drifted ever so slowly down my spine. The game was all coming together, only the outcome would be worse than any before.

More than a sliver of fear rolled into the darkest reaches of my mind. My skin was crawling with the possibilities of what had been set in motion decades before. “That’s where we need to go.”

“Oh, fuck, no. You might not be superstitious, but I am. I’ll call the detective working on the Monahan case. Maybe he can authorize some beat cops to head out there.”

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