“Let’s go.” She gestured to her car. Hannah slid into the backseat. Grant rode shotgun. And as much as Stella worried about their presence, something about having the two of them in her car bolstered her confidence. She drove out of the lot as the storm burst from the sky.
She no longer cared if she was fired. The only thing that mattered was finding Mac and Gianna.
If they were still alive.
Thirty minutes later, they gathered outside their dark vehicles near the old stone barn. Stella tugged her cap over her brow to keep the rain out of her eyes. Horner went around the back side of the barn with two uniforms. Drawing her weapon and flashlight, she instructed Grant and Hannah to stay in the car. Then she led Carl and two more officers toward the front door.
At the entrance, she hesitated. The last time she’d faced a dark barn, it had blown up in front of her. She checked the doorframe for wires but found nothing.
The door wasn’t locked. She pulled it open and went in, sweeping the space with her weapon and flashlight. Something rustled to her left. Stella spun. A raccoon scurried out the door.
The building was empty.
They took a few minutes to check the floor for trapdoors.
“No one has been in here for a long time.” Horner lowered his light. “Let’s go check the rehab center.”
They returned to their vehicles and drove to the center. Repeating the procedure, Horner covered the back while Stella and Carl banged on the door. They heard footsteps on the other side of the door. Stella held her weapon ready as the door opened.
Reilly stood in the lobby in a pair of cotton pajamas. The front was buttoned all the way to his chin, and they appeared as if they’d been ironed. But his hair was rumpled, as if he’d just gotten out of bed. A sinking feeling settled in Stella’s belly.
They’d gotten it wrong.
“What’s going on?” he stepped back.
Stella and Carl pushed past him. “Is anyone else here?”
“The patients are all sleeping in their rooms. I did bed check a half hour ago.” Reilly scratched his forehead.
“Can you get everyone out here, please?”
“I demand to know what’s going on.” He propped a hand on his hip.
“Two people have been abducted.”
Reilly’s eyes opened wide. “And you think they’re here?”
“We need to check.” Doubt crept around Stella’s gut as she showed him the search warrant.
“All right.” He rousted the patients. They gathered in the lobby while the police did a quick sweep of all the rooms. The basement was full of boxes and junk. No people.
“Are there any outbuildings?” Stella asked Reilly.
“No.” Reilly shook his head. “Everything is kept in the basement. Why did you think they were here?”
“Someone is abducting and killing drug addicts. We know about what happened to you in Atlanta.”
“You thought it was me?” Reilly reeled. He backed up to the wall. “I could never hurt anyone. Not after what I’ve been through. I came all the way up here to get away from those violent memories.”
Which Stella had just handed back to him. “I’m sorry.”
She paced the lobby, panic overriding her pity. If it wasn’t Reilly, then who?
Her gaze landed on a bulletin board. A notice on yellow paper read, “Free Group Session, Thursday night, 10 p.m., Our Lady of Sorrows.”
And suddenly she knew. All the pieces fell into place. “Where does Dr. Randolph live?”
“Why?” Horner asked.
“Because it’s him. Missy and Dena were his patients. He knew everything about them.” Stella walked to the bulletin board and put a fist on the yellow notice. “And if he offered free counseling to NA members after their meetings, he could have worked with Gianna as well.”
Horner’s gaze landed on the flyer. “But why?”
“It has to be connected to his brother.” Stella turned away from the bulletin board. Everything in her gut said she was right. But Randolph wasn’t holding Gianna and Mac prisoner at the center, so where were they? “Reilly, where is Randolph’s house?”
“Across the lake.” Reilly said. “The access road is just past the driveway for the center. You can’t miss it.”
“You two stay here and keep an eye on him, just in case.” Stella pointed to two officers. “Everyone else, let’s go.”
Racing for her car, she said a quick and silent prayer.
Please let them be alive.
Panic slammed inside Mac’s throat, a blind, feral animal seeking to escape. He moved his fingers, but his muscle control hadn’t returned quickly enough. He was immobilized. He yanked at the handcuffs that attached his wrists to the rails on either side of the gurney. His ankles were tied down with leather straps that looked like they’d come out of a horror movie set in a psychiatric hospital.