Page 54 of All He Takes
Then, Nicky saw it too: the armchair...
It was the same as one of the ones in the photo. Nicky's stomach churned.
She could see the blood and everything.
She pulled out her phone--she needed to call this in and get police down here, now. The operator picked up immediately, and Nicky said, "This is Agent Lyons of the FBI, we have a situation at 4012 Sullivan Road in Caledon. Requesting immediate backup and forensics--we might have a crime scene. Requesting an APB for one Harrison Smith of Caledon, Florida, wanted under suspicion of homicide."
"Copy that, Agent Lyons," the operator said. "Backup is on its way and the APB is being put out."
"Thank you," Nicky said, hanging up.
"It's him, isn't it?" Ken asked, still staring at the chair.
"I think so," Nicky said. "Let's keep looking, though."
Ken nodded and crossed the room. Nicky followed him down the hallway, glancing into a few rooms on the left and right.
"I'll take the upstairs," Ken said. "You check the basement."
"Got it."
Nicky made her way down the stairs to the basement. It was dark and dusty down here, with cobwebs in the corners. The basement was mostly empty, save for a workbench in the corner and some boxes.
But when she turned a corner, her blood ran cold.
There, right in front of her, was a makeshift photography studio set up, equipped with a tripod and all. A vintage floral couch, the one seen in the photos, and blood stains all over the concrete floor.
There was no doubt about it now.
This was their guy. They were in the killer's house--but he wasn't home.
Which meant, chances were, he was out hunting right now.
Nicky's mind raced. They needed to catch him now--but an APB wasn't enough. It might not get a hit. No, she needed something more concrete.
Running up the stairs, she met with Ken on the main level.
"He's not here," Ken said.
"No, but his little photo studio is," Nicky said, gesturing to the basement.
"Jesus," Ken said, pale and sickly-looking.
Nicky took out her phone and called Grace's number. Within a few rings, Grace picked up with a yawn. "Nicky--"
"Grace, I know it's late, but I need you again."
"I'm not tired, I swear! What's up?"
"I need you to track someone down for me. Maybe triangulate cell data or use GPS if you have to."
"I might be able to do that," Grace said. "Who am I hunting?"
"Harrison Smith of Caledon, Florida. He's not home right now, but we need to find him." Nicky took a breath. "Grace, he's the killer."
"Holy crap," Grace said. "Give me a minute, let me see what I can do."
Nicky heard keys clacking on the other end of the line. She bit her lip and paced the house, just as she heard police cars coming up to the house outside. She peeked out the window to see officers arriving. Then, she glanced around the house, at the creepy old wallpaper, the old vintage photos--Harold Smith, Harrison's father's, work.
