HOSTAGE (To Love A Killer) by Lexie Ray Page B

Though the bed was unmade, there was no other evidence that anyone had stayed here. Or so Sarah thought until she entered the bathroom and flipped on the light.
                  There resting on the counter beside the sink was a necklace, a dingy silver chain with a pendant. As Sarah approached and took the chain in her hand, she realized the pendant was a bullet.
                  Black dread sliced through her, twisting her stomach into knots, causing tears to spring to her eyes.
                  “Shit,” she said aloud.
                  It was her greatest fear realized.
                  Sarah began to tremble, balling her hand into a fist around the bullet. She glanced up, locking eyes with her reflection in the mirror. She barely recognized her own face. The only feature that seemed familiar were her eyes, their large round shape, and the darkness that swirled just below the surface.
                  Sarah bowed her head, pulling the dingy chain over her head, putting the necklace on, then tucked the bullet under her shirt.
                  “She was here, wasn’t she?” asked Linden the second Sarah had opened the driver’s side door and lowered herself behind the wheel.
                  “She was,” she said, coy not to let on any more than she had to.
                  Sarah turned the key. The engine purred, ready to go anywhere, but she didn’t put the car into gear.
                  “Why is it I always gotta wait holding my breath for you to give me all the facts?” asked Linden. “I got this for you,” he added in a complete tonal shift as he handed her a cup of coffee.
                  “Thanks,” she said, before taking a sip. “That was nice of you.”
                  “It’s a road trip. It doesn’t have to be miserable,” said Linden.
                  “She’s with a guy,” said Sarah, even though she would’ve rather kept that piece to herself.
                  “Do we have a name?” asked Linden.
                  “No,” said Sarah, “but the manager figured we just missed them. If only we knew where they were going.”
                  “Don’t give me that crap, Sarah,” said Linden. “They’re headed for the farmhouse and so are we.”
                  Sarah sighed into her coffee. “Good work, detective,” she said sarcastically.
                  She could feel Linden’s eyes on her. There was something smug about the way he was looking at her. He clearly knew something she didn’t, and yet he wanted her to ask. It would seem Linden had evolved from being completely useless to acting like a child. If only that were good news.
                  “Ask me,” said Linden with a huge smile on his face.
                  “I’m not going to ask you, Linden. This isn’t twenty-questions.”
                  “This is going to be a very long trip if you’re going to be so serious all the time,” he said. “Fine, I’ll tell you.”
                  “Lucky me,” said Sarah.
                  “The station called. They got another anonymous tip...” Linden let that hang in the air between them. He obviously wanted to savor the fun of dangling a lead in front of Sarah’s nose, but she wasn’t in the mood to play along. “Fine!” he said, stealing a quick sip of his coffee. “Apparently... and let me just preface this by saying that I’m not going to say ‘I told you so,’ but apparently our Hunter Mann used to have a little hobby up at the farmhouse.”
                  Sarah’s brows furrowed. She immediately feared where he might be going with this.
                  “Sarah, she used to kill little girls. Suffocate them in their sleep,” said Linden, beaming from ear to ear with a