dealt with as a crime scene until youâre told itâs been released.â
âYou just got some new information?â Nick asked.
âIâd feel good if I knew all of you were being carefulâat least until we have more facts than we do now.â
âA crime scene?â Aurelie said. âYou think Baily was murdered.â
Matt didnât argue.
8
N ick heard the front door close quietly and bolted from his bed. He grabbed a pair of jeans and hopped into them on the way out of his bedroom.
The door to the room heâd given Aurelie stood open and a glance inside proved she wasnât there.
The luminous dial on his watch showed a little before five in the morning.
âAurelie?â he yelled at the front door, knowing there was no way sheâd hear him, particularly if she was well away by now.
She didnât have her car, but knowing her, she wouldnât be above spending what was left of the night in his Audi, just so she could be completely alone with her thoughts.
He wanted to find her in his car.
She hasnât hidden away in a car since we were teenagers. âI hope youâve gone into your second childhood,â he said aloud, shoving his feet into a pair of downtrodden boat shoes he kept near the front door in case he needed to go outside quickly, like now. Aurelie had been in a quiet mood ever since Matt Boudreaux shuffled them out of the police station through a back door, to avoid the people trying to hunt them down.
The bottoms of his shoes were worn thin and smooth and with his first step he slid on wet mud and only just stopped himself from falling. âSon of a bitch!â Rain fell. Not the fine, driving mist of earlier, but a downpour from a black sky quickly assaulted by a hurtling river of forked lightning.
His car was in the carport, right where heâd left it.
Empty.
The Oakdale Mansion Center was large, with satellites of condos, shops, business and professional offices ranged around the old mansion at its center.
Nick made himself stand still. He used both hands to push his dripping hair back and wipe water from his eyes and face. Nothing moved out here. âAurelie?â he shouted, making a slow circle in place, keeping his fingers where he could repeatedly clear his eyes. Water sluiced from his bare shoulders.
What made her leave?
Could someone have gotten in and taken her?
A glance at Poke Around showed no suggestion of a light inside the shop windows.
Nick ran for the nearest exit to the street. His lungs burned as if theyâd explode. Fear and quantities of inhaled rain destroyed his throat. He stared both ways but didnât see as much as a stray animal abroad. Who would be out in this if they didnât have to be?
Thunder rolled. The sound resembled the gathering roar of an avalanche.
When he got his hands on Aurelie heâd shake her till her teeth rattled. She was a runner with several marathons under her belt. Could she be in training? They used to run together before she went away.
Even Aurelie wouldnât run in this.
She wouldnât come out here of her own volition.
He dashed along the verge toward the back of the condos where he lived.
Water squelched beneath his feet and his jeans clung, wet and heavy, to his legs.
Maybe he was already on edge becauseâ¦
He couldnât shake the idea that Baily might have died because she was mistaken for Sarah.
âAurelie!â His eyes stung and blurred. âAurelie!â
The killer could have decided to take Aurelie out next.
Shit, he needed help out here.
A deep bark startled him. He skidded to a halt, gasping through his open mouth.
Another bark, this one closer.
Nick bent over with his hands on his knees. He croaked out, âSucker? She took the goddamn dog for a walk?â
âWhat are you doing, Nick?â
He didnât look up, didnât need to when he knew heâd found Aurelie. Or sheâd found him.
âNick. Talk
âYou just got some new information?â Nick asked.
âIâd feel good if I knew all of you were being carefulâat least until we have more facts than we do now.â
âA crime scene?â Aurelie said. âYou think Baily was murdered.â
Matt didnât argue.
8
N ick heard the front door close quietly and bolted from his bed. He grabbed a pair of jeans and hopped into them on the way out of his bedroom.
The door to the room heâd given Aurelie stood open and a glance inside proved she wasnât there.
The luminous dial on his watch showed a little before five in the morning.
âAurelie?â he yelled at the front door, knowing there was no way sheâd hear him, particularly if she was well away by now.
She didnât have her car, but knowing her, she wouldnât be above spending what was left of the night in his Audi, just so she could be completely alone with her thoughts.
He wanted to find her in his car.
She hasnât hidden away in a car since we were teenagers. âI hope youâve gone into your second childhood,â he said aloud, shoving his feet into a pair of downtrodden boat shoes he kept near the front door in case he needed to go outside quickly, like now. Aurelie had been in a quiet mood ever since Matt Boudreaux shuffled them out of the police station through a back door, to avoid the people trying to hunt them down.
The bottoms of his shoes were worn thin and smooth and with his first step he slid on wet mud and only just stopped himself from falling. âSon of a bitch!â Rain fell. Not the fine, driving mist of earlier, but a downpour from a black sky quickly assaulted by a hurtling river of forked lightning.
His car was in the carport, right where heâd left it.
Empty.
The Oakdale Mansion Center was large, with satellites of condos, shops, business and professional offices ranged around the old mansion at its center.
Nick made himself stand still. He used both hands to push his dripping hair back and wipe water from his eyes and face. Nothing moved out here. âAurelie?â he shouted, making a slow circle in place, keeping his fingers where he could repeatedly clear his eyes. Water sluiced from his bare shoulders.
What made her leave?
Could someone have gotten in and taken her?
A glance at Poke Around showed no suggestion of a light inside the shop windows.
Nick ran for the nearest exit to the street. His lungs burned as if theyâd explode. Fear and quantities of inhaled rain destroyed his throat. He stared both ways but didnât see as much as a stray animal abroad. Who would be out in this if they didnât have to be?
Thunder rolled. The sound resembled the gathering roar of an avalanche.
When he got his hands on Aurelie heâd shake her till her teeth rattled. She was a runner with several marathons under her belt. Could she be in training? They used to run together before she went away.
Even Aurelie wouldnât run in this.
She wouldnât come out here of her own volition.
He dashed along the verge toward the back of the condos where he lived.
Water squelched beneath his feet and his jeans clung, wet and heavy, to his legs.
Maybe he was already on edge becauseâ¦
He couldnât shake the idea that Baily might have died because she was mistaken for Sarah.
âAurelie!â His eyes stung and blurred. âAurelie!â
The killer could have decided to take Aurelie out next.
Shit, he needed help out here.
A deep bark startled him. He skidded to a halt, gasping through his open mouth.
Another bark, this one closer.
Nick bent over with his hands on his knees. He croaked out, âSucker? She took the goddamn dog for a walk?â
âWhat are you doing, Nick?â
He didnât look up, didnât need to when he knew heâd found Aurelie. Or sheâd found him.
âNick. Talk
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