Read Online Fear No Evil by Allison Brennan - Free Book Online

get you set up.” They left with Carina.
    Dillon and Patrick were alone. Dillon watched Lucy on the camera and admitted to his brother, “I’m scared for her.”
    “So am I.” Patrick was reading code that seemed to fly by on the computer, his eyes darting back and forth. Focused, determined.
    Dillon paced. What good was it to understand why someone kills when he couldn’t prevent him from doing it?
    Kate was the key. She had confronted Trask, faced him. If Dillon could bounce theories off her, it would help him put together a better profile, one that could lead Dillon to Trask. And to Lucy.
    If he could find his first kill, Dillon was certain that it would lead to his identity. A killer’s first victim almost always led to him. The FBI had to have run like crimes.
    Dillon needed to put together a visual time line. He flipped open Peterson’s file and had just started creating a time line on the white board when Peterson’s computer beeped. Dillon looked at the screen.
    “It’s her,” Patrick said.
     
Does Lucy know sign language?
     
    Dillon typed.
     
Yes.
     
I’m sending you a feed of the last thirty seconds before it was cut off. Watch her hands. I think she’s signing in Spanish, but my Spanish is rusty.
Kate, you need to be careful. He knows where you are.
     
    A long pause before a link came through and the words:
     
I know.
     
    Dillon clicked on the link. He tried to focus on Lucy’s hands, but both he and Patrick tensed as they watched their sister brutalized as she was wrestled to the floor by two men. They replayed it, watching only her hands.
    Kate was right. She was signing in Spanish.
    Boat. Island. Before sunrise. Boat. Island. Before sunrise.
    “She’s telling us the time. That the sun hasn’t come up yet.”
    “It’s four thirty in the morning right now,” Patrick said. “She could be close by.”
    “In the same time zone.” Which meant she could be thirty minutes away or hours.
    “On an island. There are dozens of islands off the coast.”
    “In this time zone, hundreds,” Dillon corrected. “I don’t think he’s close,” Dillon added.
    “Why? You’re basing it on a hunch, not on fact.” Patrick was getting agitated. “She could be on Anacapa or San Miguel. An hour or less from where we are by helicopter! We need to check the Channel Islands right now.”
    “We have less than two days to find her. We can’t possibly storm every island off the coast. And your hunch that it’s the Channel Islands? Filled with tourists this time of year.”
    “There’s a lot of small islands in the chain. They could be on one of those.”
    “But what if we’re wrong? We have no evidence, and it would take days to search every island even with the manpower of the FBI behind us.”
    “Dammit, we have to try!”
    Dillon tamped down his own temper, knowing his brother was teetering on the edge. First Connor, now Patrick. Well, so was Dillon. He was just better at holding back. Assessing. Being the reasonable, responsible, mature Kincaid. Sometimes he wished he could explode with the injustice he saw in humanity. But he couldn’t. People depended on his stability, particularly his family.
    He tried to calmly explain his reasoning. “He had Lucy for more than twelve hours before putting the webcam on her. I think the bulk of that time was getting her to his destination. They went by boat, at least for part of the trip. Twelve hours on a ship could get them all the way to the Canadian border, or to the tip of Baja California.”
    “Or he was waiting for midnight,” Patrick said. “Which is when the feed started. Are you willing to put Lucy’s life on the line for a theory?”
    “Are you?” Dillon responded.
    Peterson walked back in, immediately on alert when he felt the tension between the brothers. “What happened?”
    Dillon told him about Lucy’s clues.
    “I’ll get the Coast Guard on alert up the entire West Coast. I think he went to Mexico or Canada,” Peterson