“Send them out on foot patrol,” I instruct him. “I want this entire neighborhood canvassed.”

“He might have taken her in a car.”

I frown, fighting to think clearly. “I doubt it. Nic would have seen Lila being dragged to a car in the parking lot. Lila would have screamed.”

“Not if he took her out the back,” Matt replies grimly. “They could be anywhere by now.”

My phone rings again. Kate. This time I accept the call. “Kate, I don’t have time to talk.”

“Lila’s on my cell phone.” Her voice is scared. “I can’t hear everything that’s happening, but she keeps saying Colin. She sounds scared. What is happening?”

“Colin?” I ask and search wildly for Jordan. “Is she still on the line?”

“Yes.”

“Do not hang up, do you hear me?” I put Kate on speaker. “Put it on speaker and hold it up to your phone.”

“Okay, but you can’t hear much. What’s happening, Asher?”

“Lila’s in trouble, and you’re going to help me find her, sweetheart.”

“I’m calling in to get a trace on Lila’s cell,” Jordan says, her phone already to her ear.

“Please, Colin, you don’t have to do this.”

My gut seizes at Lila’s scared voice, but I’m so relieved to hear that she’s still alive.

“Kate, put your cell on mute. I don’t want any noises to go through Lila’s phone. I don’t want Colin to hear us.”

“I already did that,” Kate says. “I did it as soon as I realized Lila was in trouble.”

“Good girl,” Matt says. “And who the fuck is Colin?”

“It has to be Colin Forester, from her history class,” Jordan says then speaks back into her phone. “Yes, I need a trace on 504-555-3297, now. There’s a live call on it right now.”

“Talk to me about Colin,” Matt says.

I rack my brain, trying to picture the boy. “He’s in her class and the study group. Roughly five foot six, bald. He had solid alibis for every murder.”

“He escorted Cheyenne home the night she was killed,” Jordan adds.

“And had an alibi ten minutes later,” I remind her.

“His roommate said she heard him come home. But could she be covering for him?” Jordan speaks into her phone again, barking instructions for the trace on Lila’s phone.

“Bald?” Matt asks with a frown. “Like, he might have a full head of hair if he let it grow?”

“Yes.” My eyes narrow. “Son of a bitch. He shaves so he doesn’t leave evidence. Where is that trace?”

“They’re working on it,” Jordan says.

“No, please don’t,” Lila says through my phone.

“Asher, he’s going to hurt her,” Kate says urgently. “He just said something about her fingers.”

Jordan and I lock gazes. “He has a thing for cutting off his victims fingers.”

“Motherfucker,” Mike mutters.

“Get an address for Colin,” I tell my brother.

“No need, we have a trace,” Jordan says, her eyes confused.

“Where is she?”

“Asher, she’s here.”

“Clearly she’s not,” I reply angrily. “What the fuck?”

“The address is here.”

“She’s in another apartment,” Matt says.

“Fan out,” I order and head for the door. “Break down every fucking door in this complex.”

Chapter Nine

~Lila~

“Wake up, Lila.”

My head is screaming.

“Come on, I didn’t hit you that hard. Don’t be a pussy or this won’t be any fun.”

“I need to throw up.”

“Fine. There’s a bucket next to you.” He sighs, as if he’s horribly disappointed in me. “I really thought you’d be a better sport than this.”

I reach for it and lose my lunch, then open my eyes and take in my surroundings. I’m on a couch in an apartment that looks very much like mine. Colin from my class is sitting in a chair across the room from me.

“I’m not tied up?” I ask inanely. Jesus, I’ve been kidnapped, and all I can think to say is I’m not tied up?

“If you try to run, I’ll simply kill you,” he replies calmly. His face, his body, everything about him is perfectly steady, as though he does this every day. “Tying you up would take some of the fun out of what I have planned.”

He stands and begins to pace the room. I glance over to the front door to see that it’s locked with a padlock. No escaping that way.

Colin is rattling around in the kitchen, and I take this opportunity to pat my pockets, praying for my phone, and find it. I have time to dial the last number I called, lock it, and stuff it back in my pocket before he comes back in the room.

Please, Kate, pick up.

“Now that you’re awake, I’ll start setting up.” He smiles happily, even joyfully, and begins laying syringes and different medical instruments on the coffee table. “We can chat while I work.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Well, it’s easier to have these things on hand so I don’t have to go back and forth to the kitchen.” He laughs at his own joke, having a great time, and I just feel like I have to throw up again.