Page 13 of Trap ’N’ Trace

“He was taller than I am, and strong. Really strong.” She took a deep breath, drawing Dayne’s gaze back to the ligature marks on her throat. “I’m five-five, so I’d guess he was about five-ten.”

“Was he skinny? Fat?”

“He was…average. Not skinny, not fat.”

“What do you remember about the clothes he wore and what color they were?” He wanted to get a more detailed description out over the radio ASAP.

“The mask was black. His eyes were brown. He had a beard and mustache. I don’t remember what else he was wearing.”

“Wait. If he was wearing a mask, how do you know he had a beard and mustache?”

“Because when we were struggling, my fingers caught on the mask and it pulled partially up. Then I—” Her eyes went wide. “Oh god. Amy. Help her, please!” She tried pushing off the floor.

He admired her game but held her down. “Where is she?” Kat pointed to the open door on the other side of the corridor. “Stay here.” With his hand on his gun, he got to his feet.

“Remy, such.” His dog bolted inside the storage room. Rows and rows of tall metal shelving loaded with supplies crammed every bit of space.

Remy barked once. He followed the sound and rounded the end of the last row. A woman lay face up on the floor. Red ligature marks ringed her throat. The woman’s eyes were open and sightless.

He dropped to her side, touching his fingers to her carotid. Nada. Her skin was still warm. Training kicked in and he positioned her head and neck to start mouth-to-mouth resuscitation and CPR. He whipped out a tiny red packet from his thigh pocket—a breathing barrier—then placed it over her mouth. After pinching her nostrils closed, he administered two rescue breaths. He hadn’t gotten in two rounds of chest compressions when sirens screamed outside. A soft sob came from the doorway.

“Please, no,” Kat whispered. “Is she dead?”

“Not if I can help it,” he managed between compressions.

“Police, call out!” someone shouted.

“In here!” He gave two more rescue breaths, switching back to compressions. “Go get the EMTs.”

She ran from the room. Seconds later, two EMTs hustled in, followed by several cops.

“We’ll take over,” one of the EMTs said.

Dayne backed off to give them room to work. “See anyone on the way up here?” he asked.

“Negative.” The first cop shook his head. “We’ve got units patrolling the area. We could use a little more description.”

Kat’s brow wrinkled, and her eyes shimmered with tears as she watched the EMTs tend to her friend.

“Let’s talk somewhere else.” He placed his hand at the small of her back and urged her to the vestibule. Along the way, he tipped his head to his K-9. “Remy.” She trotted behind them with her head down, disappointed at not being green-lighted to give chase.

At the reception desk, he pulled out a chair. “You’d better sit down.” He eyed Kat closely for other aftereffects of the attack. The woman had had one hell of a day. It was a miracle she was still upright.

Paulson came through the front door, frowning as he took in the pink marks on her neck. “Are you all right, Miss Vandenburg?”

“I’m fine, Detective.” She peered around Paulson’s shoulder in the direction of where the other woman was being worked on.

Dayne didn’t say so, but his gut told him the EMTs’ efforts would be futile. Kat’s eyes met his, then her chin dropped, and she let out a heavy sigh. She knew it, too.

Remy nudged her muzzle beneath Kat’s hand, forcing her to pet the top of his dog’s head. Remy’s maternal instinct didn’t surprise him, but his next move did. He cupped Kat’s face. “As soon as they know something, they’ll tell us. I promise.” Her glistening eyes reminded him of purple gemstones. “Okay?” She nodded, blinking rapidly and stemming the tears with admirable guts and determination. “Walk us through everything from the moment you got here.”

“I came here to get food for Angus,” she said in a steady voice. “I noticed Amy’s—the Haven’s manager, Amy Thorpe—car was still parked outside.”

“What time was that?” Paulson tugged a pad and pen from his jacket’s breast pocket.

“About nine. The lights were off. I came in, then called out for Amy. When she didn’t answer, I went to the storage room. The lights were on. Then they went out. I turned them back on and found Amy on the floor. That’s when he attacked me. He threw me against the shelves and I ran. Then he grabbed me and started choking me. When he heard you coming, he shoved me against the fire extinguisher box and ran out the back door.”

“Did he say anything?” Dayne asked.