The Girl With No Name

Chapter Forty-Seven

Carrieann was right. Less than a half hour later, Josie and Noah stood in the trees next to Luke’s driveway, peering at his house. The living room windows glowed, and judging by the light that jumped along the swath of wall that Josie could see, the television was on as well. Upstairs, light shone from the windows of the master bedroom and bathroom.

“There are no cars in the driveway,” Noah said. “Besides Luke’s truck, which has been here all along.”

“Yeah,” Josie said. “But someone is definitely here.”

“Who?”

“Don’t know,” she muttered. “But we’re going to find out.”

Behind them, three other officers waited in darkness, strapping on their bulletproof vests and checking their weapons. They couldn’t risk driving up to the house because of the gravel driveway. Josie didn’t want to alert whoever was in there too soon and risk them running out the back door or, worse, coming after Josie and her men. A fourth officer threaded his way toward them from the side of the property. “I looked around back,” he reported. “There’s no one there. Not that I can see. Barn is empty too.”

“Great,” Josie said. “Get your vest on. We’re going in three teams of two. Your teams will clear the downstairs, and then Lieutenant Fraley and I will clear the upstairs.”

Crouched low, they moved in tandem toward the house, their footsteps silent over the grass. As they reached the porch, sweat moistened Josie’s palms as she gripped her gun. They took up position next to the front door. Once Josie gave the signal, the first team eased in through the front door, which was unlocked. The other team followed, with her and Noah bringing up the rear. The other officers moved quickly and quietly, finding no one on the first floor. But someone was obviously in the house—or had been very recently. The television in the living room played the local news. In the kitchen, on the table across from the bloodstains, was a plate with a half-eaten bagel on it. A cream-cheese covered butter knife lay in the sink.

In the silence, Josie heard the sound of water running from upstairs. She motioned for Team One to take up position at the front door and for Team Two to follow her and Noah as they climbed the stairs. She pointed down the hallway, and the four of them moved together, checking rooms as they went. All of them were dark and empty. Even the master bedroom—though the light was on—was clear. The bathroom door was slightly ajar, steam billowing out around its edges.

Josie looked back momentarily and caught Noah’s eye. He made a hand signal that she should proceed. A roar started in her ears. Even as she tried to stop it, hope soared inside her. Was it Luke? Had he escaped? Returned home to get cleaned up? She knew it was preposterous, but the part of her that desperately wanted a happy ending to this scenario couldn’t help but wish she would find him on the other side of the door. Who the hell else could it be?

She felt Noah’s hand on her shoulder and knew the time for hesitation was over. Best to surprise whoever it was while they were still in the shower. Pushing the door open, Josie moved inside. She felt Noah close at her back and her beating heart slowed somewhat.

Steam eddied and swirled around them. The only sound was the water running. For a split second, Josie wondered if there was really anyone in there. Was this some kind of trap? Who would set it? Dunn was dead. Unless he had put something in place before he died. But why set a trap at Luke’s house, and for who? For Josie? The police? As retribution for the man Luke likely killed the day Dunn’s goons took him? No, she decided. It couldn’t be a trap. They’d checked every inch of the place. There was only Josie’s squad and whoever was behind the shower curtain.

She reached out, pulled back the curtain and yelled, “Police!”

With a shriek, Kim Conway snatched the shower curtain, tearing it completely from the rod, and clutching it to her naked, soapy body. One hand flew to her chest. “Oh my God. You scared me. What the hell are you doing?”

Tension leeched from Josie’s body. She was aware of a small wellspring of disappointment that it wasn’t Luke. Raising a brow, she said, “The better question is what the hell are you doing? Kim Conway, you’re under arrest for the murder of Denny Twitch.”