A whisper of a sound came from the woman in the bed. Who was she? How had the villain managed to take her? And more importantly, why hadn’t someone reported her missing by now?
Dr. Rolland had said she came in dressed in jeans and a tattered white T-shirt, her feet bare. The doctor believed she’d been in good health before her capture.
Each minute that passed without them being able to identify the killer reminded Sutter that the Dead of Night Killer was out there somewhere, probably trolling for his next victim.
Outside the room, an unusual amount of activity seemed to be taking place. A sense of unease sped up Sutter’s spine. He opened the door and glanced around. The nurses’ station appeared to be abandoned, while a crowd of medical personnel had gathered near one of the rooms down the hall.
He craned his neck to see what was happening, and fear took control when he spotted what was causing the commotion. Smoke billowed from inside the room. A fire. In his heart, he didn’t believe it was an accident.
A sound sent him whirling, in time to find a man in green scrubs and a medical mask nearly on top of him. Something jabbed into his neck. He reached for it and yanked it out. A syringe. Trying to process what was taking place, Sutter grabbed for the man. The world swam before his eyes and his legs buckled.
He was vaguely aware of being shoved into the room, then tossed across it, hitting the floor hard. Catherine. He needed to protect her, but he couldn’t get his body to cooperate. Sutter tried to stand. Fell back, his legs jelly. Soon, his thoughts began to fade.
The last coherent one was that the killer had tracked her to the hospital, determined to finish the job. Sutter had promised to protect her and was now powerless to do so.
Catherine’s eyes flew open. Panicked, she scanned the room. Something woke her, but she wasn’t sure what. Sunlight streamed in. The hospital… She was in the hospital. Next to the window, something lay crumpled on the floor. A man. She recognized him. It was the FBI agent she’d spoken to earlier. He wasn’t moving.
Her heartbeat accelerated. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement nearby. Someone else was in the room. She jerked toward the person just as a pillow was shoved over her face, cutting off her oxygen.
He’d found her again.
Catherine tried to scream. No sound came out. Not like this. She wouldn’t die like this. Not without fighting him all the way. With her limbs flailing, she grabbed for her attacker’s arms, frantic to save her life. Scratching and clawing, she fought with all her fading strength.
He snarled in anger and pressed down harder. Her nails raked across his skin. Drew blood. He yanked his arm out of her reach. With all the strength she could muster, Catherine kicked him hard. He yelped before he pressed the pillow down with renewed force.
She could feel the last breaths leaving her body. Then the pressure eased. The sound of equipment being knocked around was followed by thuds and a scuffle. She pulled the pillow off her face.
After coughing and sucking in air, she screamed as loudly as she could, but her voice was nonexistent.
Catherine watched in horror as Sutter struggled with the man who’d attacked her. His face was partially covered by a medical mask and he was dressed in scrubs like a doctor. The man had a gun in his hand. She recognized it. The same one he’d used on her.
“No!” She yelled as forcefully as she could, but it came out as barely a whisper. The man shoved Sutter off him and tried to reach the door. The agent tackled him from behind. Both men hit the floor, momentum sent them sliding. Sutter slugged the man hard several times, but he barely flinched, as if he were indestructible. As the two fought, the attacker swung the gun in his hand. It slammed against Sutter’s temple before the agent had time to react. He collapsed unconscious on the floor.
The masked man heaved himself to his feet and shoved the gun into the waistband of his pants. Then he strode toward her, his rage was as terrifying as ever.
“No, please,” Catherine murmured, and held her arms up in front of her. He yanked them down with one hand while the other circled her neck and choked hard.
Catherine stared into eyes filled with pure evil, and a single tear slipped from her eye to the pillow below. The one thought chasing through her mind was that if she died, they might never be able to catch this man. With darkness closing in, her body urged her to give up. Let it happen. She couldn’t.
The man’s attention suddenly jerked toward the door as if he’d heard something. After one final squeeze, with his teeth bared, he let her go and ran from the room.
Grasping her neck, she drew air into her lungs. Each breath reminded her that he’d almost completed what he’d set out to do.
With her voice gone, she stumbled from the bed and over to Sutter’s side.
“Are you alright?” The words did not exist. Kneeling, she shook him gently. No response. She needed help.
Staggering to her feet and putting one in front of the other took all her concentration. She made it to the door, half expecting the man to appear again and finish the job.
Catherine stepped outside and yelled as loudly as possible. Each cry felt like a knife to her throat, but this time, her voice resonated down the hall to where several medical personnel were gathered.
Dr. Rolland rushed to her aid. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his brows slanted in a worried frown.
She pointed inside. “He needs you.”
A nurse she recognized from earlier along with other emergency personnel came to assist. A man in a deputy’s uniform rushed past her.
Dr. Rolland helped her back into the room. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”
But she wasn’t worried about herself. All she could think about was Sutter. He’d risked his life for her. “He’s in good hands,” Dr. Rolland assured her, and helped her back to bed while another doctor assisted Sutter as he slowly came to.
Catherine couldn’t stop shaking. Her abductor had managed to find her in the hospital while she was under the protection of an FBI agent. Would she ever be safe again?
“Easy there, Agent Brenneman. Try not to move. That was some blow you took.” The doctor eased him into the closest chair, then bent to examine the injury.
Sutter winced and pushed his hands away. “I’m okay,” he said, though he didn’t appear so.
“What happened?” the deputy standing close by asked.
“The killer was here. We need to close off the hospital right now.” His gaze shot to the officer as he gave the order. “No one goes in or out of the building until we catch this guy.”
“I’ll take care of it,” the deputy said, and hastily left the room.
Sutter struggled to his feet, despite the doctor’s warning, and came to Catherine’s bedside. “Did he hurt you?” he asked.
She fixed her attention on him alone. Sutter was her safe place. As long as he was there, she could keep it together.
“I’m okay,” she managed to answer, as Sutter sat next to her. Her throat ached from the attack, but she was alive. She couldn’t get what Sutter had said out of her head. The killer. Her attacker had killed before.
The deputy came back. “Building’s on lockdown. Security is checking each floor. I’d like to assist, if it’s okay with you.”
Sutter