Stone Cold Heart (Tracers #13)(10)
Grace’s head pounded. It was like a hangover but worse—like the morning after she and her friend Ava had raided the liquor cabinet, taking a shot from every bottle so her parents wouldn’t notice anything was gone.
My parents. Oh, God.
Grace’s eyes filled with tears, and she squeezed them shut.
Her eyes had been open. She realized that now. She could open and close her eyes, and everything remained pitch-black.
Where am I?
The question sent a zing of panic through her. She had to get out.
She tried to move her arms. Nothing. Her fingers. Nothing. Each of her limbs felt weighted down. She couldn’t even move her toes, and just the effort made the pain intensify.
She tried moving her tongue. It felt thick and swollen, and she realized there was a gag inside her mouth. Moving her tongue around as much as she could, she tasted something sour, maybe vomit. And something else, too, something sweet. Grape but not like the fruit—more like the purple cold-medicine kind. Had she been drugged?
She tried to wet her lips, but her tongue was too dry. The corners of her mouth felt parched and stinging, same as her throat.
A sudden movement, and she jerked sideways.
I’m in a car.
The burst of clarity brought a wave of relief. But it turned to despair when the next thought came: Where is he taking me?
He.
Grace pictured the blue eyes, the blue shirt, the blue arm reaching back. Terror shot through her like an electric jolt. He’d used a stun gun on her.
Another bump, and the side of her foot scraped against something. She was barefoot. What about her clothes? Another zing of panic, because she couldn’t see anything. But then she registered the sharp point near her armpit. Her strapless bra. The underwire protruding through the fabric. The familiar feel of it poking into her skin gave her a speck of comfort.
Another bump. And then another. Her knee knocked against something hard as the vehicle bounced and rattled. They weren’t on a road, at least not a good one.
Where is he taking me?
The car slowed. Grace’s heart skittered. Her breath came in shallow gasps. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Breathe, breathe, breathe.
The car rolled to a stop.
CHAPTER 5
When Sara arrived at the park at 6:45, Nolan was already there, leaning casually against the back of his pickup with a coffee cup in hand. She pulled into the space beside him and got out, looking him over. If not for the gun and the badge clipped to his belt, he could have passed for a hiker in his all-terrain boots and khaki tactical pants. The layer of stubble on his jaw was even thicker now.
“Morning,” he said.
“Good morning. How’d it go here last night?”
“Pretty quiet. We had some mountain bikers around sunup, but I turned them away.”
Sara went around to the back of her SUV and opened the cargo door. “Did you sleep out here?”
“Biggs—he’s one of our officers—he and I traded shifts. Mine started at four.”
She grabbed the thermos she’d filled from the coffeepot in her motel room. “Can I top you off?”
“Definitely.”
She unscrewed the cap, and he held out his mug.
“So what’s the plan?” he asked as she poured. He looked her over, brown eyes alert, and seemed eager to get started.
“My lab assistant, Aaron, is coming at seven with gear and grad students.” She replaced the top and set down the thermos. “We’ll haul everything down, set up a tent to protect from the elements, and begin our work.”
“No rain in the forecast. Fact, you’re probably aware we’ve hardly had three inches out here all summer.”
“The tent is for the sun, mostly. I don’t want my people getting heatstroke.”
A low groan of an engine made Sara turn toward the road as a white van came into view. Aaron turned into the lot and pulled into a space beside Sara’s Explorer.
“They’re early, too,” she said.
Aaron got out, eyeing Sara and Nolan. The van door slid open, and a pair of anthropology grad students piled out. Keith and Julia had been handpicked for this job. Both were known for their physical stamina and attention to detail.
Sara introduced everyone, and they started dragging big plastic tubs from the back of the van. Aaron slid poles through the handles, so they could share the weight as they made the long trek down to the excavation site. With Nolan’s help, they got everything to the bottom of the gorge in one trip.
After dropping off the last tub, Nolan excused himself to take care of something in town, promising to check back later. His departure came as a relief. Sara didn’t mind getting a hand with the gear, but cops were impatient by nature and tended to get in the way.
Keith and Julia unloaded tools while Sara and Aaron went to work on the tent, assembling the frame with well-practiced movements.
“Helpful detective,” Aaron observed.
Sara shot him a look.
“He going to be down here all day?”
“No idea,” she said.
After the tent was up, Sara stepped over to examine the recovery site. Spiderwebs glistened with dew, and Sara swatted them away as she knelt for a closer look.
“This ground’s hard,” Aaron said. “It’s going to be a bitch getting our stakes in. Could take all morning just to get the grid set up.”