The gravel crunched under the wheels. Small stones clattered in the wheel arches, sending a pattering noise reminiscent of a downpour through the jeep as it turned into the cottage's driveway.

The sound mirrored the chaos of emotions raging inside Ryker. A storm, like the one the night before, that had ominously rattled the windows and made his composure falter. Restlessness constricted his chest. Panic-stricken fear numbed his fingertips, making them feel ice-cold as if he had been wandering for hours in the freezing cold. Anger completed the wild battle raging inside him – anger at himself for having fallen for this cheap trick like an amateur.

He stared fixedly at the terrace and practically leapt out of the car, hoping, no, praying that the door would open at any moment and Eve would step out smiling. That Liam was peeking out behind her and finally jumped up to tell him they had found Chief, and everything had just been... a stupid misunderstanding.

They must have noticed the car. The screeching of the brakes had undoubtedly been loud enough to wake Riona from her deep sleep and give the old woman in the attic room a reason to peek curiously out of the dormer window. But instead, the door remained locked, the curtains motionless, and the cottage unusually quiet – too quiet.

"Kaylen!" Dylan's call sounded next to Ryker and made him flinch. A new tone shaped Dylan's voice rougher, and Ray recognised a fear that had been foreign to him in connection with his comrade. "Kay, please! Come out!"

In a different situation, Ray would probably have felt pity for Dylan. But now, it sent a cold shiver down his spine and intensified the queasy feeling that had been in his stomach since their departure.

Never before had Ray wished so hard that the door would fly open and Eve would stand in the doorway with a gun, chasing her ex away again. The strange thing was that Ray was sure Dylan was wishing the same thing at that moment. As long as they saw her beautiful face, they would have welcomed Eve's anger with open arms. But the door stayed closed.

"Stop it, Dylan," he cut off Dylan's next scream with a growling voice like sharp scissors through a silk ribbon, just as the latter took a breath to call out for his ex-wife again. "It's no use. If we're lucky, she's still with Liam, looking for Chief." He wanted to believe that too. But he couldn't manage to convince himself of it. "We have to check and make sure."

Ryker turned his head to Dylan and hardly recognised his comrade. His brown eyes were wide, constantly jerking around, lingering on every spot as if Kaylen could appear there with Liam. His lips were pressed tightly together, forming a thin line, while his hands were clenched so tightly that they trembled slightly. Ryker had never seen Dylan's hands tremble before. No hesitation. Never. Not even on the weapon before he pulled the trigger.

Usually, it was always Dylan who had his feelings better under control. This time, it seemed to be the other way around. Maybe it was because he had experienced many more such situations in the last few years and knew how to deal with fears of loss? No... Ryker recognised the real reason: Dylan blamed himself for everything. But... for once, he had to defend the bastard: NO ONE could have expected THAT.

"We'll go around back, just like old times. We don't have any weapons... and we don't know what to expect," Ray murmured, grimacing. For the first time since he'd been here, he wished he'd brought his service weapon. But it was safely in the vault of his office. He'd left it there because he'd assumed it would be a simple job. How could so much go wrong on a job?

"Shit..." Dylan growled and ran his hand over his face. "My gun is in the car. In the Bluebird," he growled and let his gaze sweep over the house. He had only wanted to get his family back, and... now, worrying about Kaylen, he hadn't thought of it in the excitement. None of them had expected things to turn out this way. But it couldn't be changed now, and they had to improvise.

"There should be some gardening tools in the shed. That'll have to do for now." Ray glanced over his shoulder and saw Dylan's contrite expression.

"Very helpful if someone points a loaded weapon at us," he grumbled.

Ryker's expression darkened instantly, and he let out an annoyed hiss. He knew Dylan was right, but they had no choice. But he didn't have to say that. They both knew that. They had to make do with what they had. For that reason alone, he didn't elaborate on the words.

Just a brief nod was enough for them before Ryker stormed out of the cover of the car, covered the distance to the old shed and quickly disappeared behind it. Dylan waited a moment and followed him as soon as he gave the signal.

Their movements were as fluid as if their last operation had occurred only a few hours or days ago. Hand signals and glances were all they needed. One after the other, they crept along the long wooden wall like criminals until they reached the shed's back door.

The door was open a crack.

Ryker took a careful look inside – just to be safe.

It was empty.

"Clear," he announced to Dylan in his usual manner. His heart pounded in his chest, a drumbeat that urged him to move quickly inside without wasting time. The garden tools stood in the dim darkness. But the small bulb was lit, casting a flickering light among all the tools and objects, the shelves and the stacked wood.

"Strange." Ryker's brow furrowed, but the thought quickly passed, and they paid it no further heed.

Dylan reached for a flat shovel first. He turned it over before separating the blade from the handle with a decisive kick and a loud crack, passing the makeshift bludgeon to Ray. He repeated the same with the rake. For a moment, Ryker thought that Eve would strangle them both if they ruined the garden for nothing... and God, he wanted her resentment. He would bear it a hundred times over if she was all right.

Suddenly, the board at the Bluebird and all the missing women reappeared in his mind's eye. The posters, some already faded, some still newer, with the bold letters MISSING.

"Did you see the missing persons' ads at the Bluebird?" Ryker spoke his thoughts aloud.

Dylan frowned, but Ryker could see that he didn't quite follow him. That was not surprising. After all, Dylan had only been here one night – and, unlike him, had had no opportunity to kill time in the café.

"A few people have disappeared around here."

His comrade gave a thoughtful grunt. "Well, this is a very remote area. People disappear in the woods all the time."

Ryker suppressed a roll of his eyes because Dylan thought the same way as the lazy cops in the far-off police station. "Normally, I might agree with that. But under the current circumstances..."

Dylan stepped up to one of the small windows, which were already quite dull from thick layers of dust. He pushed the dusty curtains aside, leaned forward, and narrowed his eyes to watch the cottage for movement.

"Many of the missing were young women around Eve's age. And many of them were blonde." 'You should have paid more attention to this,' Ryker hissed to himself, annoyed. He was a detective, and yet he had concentrated so much on his target, the alleged child abductor, and then later on Dylan, that he had lost sight of this case...

"Are you serious?" Now Dylan turned his attention back to him as well. His face showed a mixture of disbelief and scepticism.

Ryker nodded. Yes, he was earnest. One might think that this situation defied reality. But... no one who had ever been murdered had expected it. None of the sick murder cases would have guessed that these twisted minds were capable of such acts.

What was going on here?

"So... is it possible that we're dealing not just with a stalker but with a serial killer who picks on anyone, preferably blonde women?"

The thought made both of them feel sick.

"Maybe," Ray murmured, already turning to take the back exit of the shed again. They had already given away their presence... if someone were here, he would surely wait for them. Or worse, it might already be too late.

"But Eve isn't blonde anymore?" Dylan reminded him. It was strange because his comrade had complained about the different colours just a day ago. Now he sounded almost hopeful. "And Riona is, after all, also—" Dylan began but stopped abruptly.

He and Ryker looked at each other and... didn't want to pursue the thought further. It suddenly felt too harsh, like scales had fallen from their eyes.

"It's like a smorgasbord for the sick fuck," Ryker gasped, and he didn't need a mirror to see that he had lost even more colour. He could feel his blood freezing in his veins. He had promised to take care of them. If something had happened to Eve or Liam... he would never be able to forgive himself. The mere thought of having to live without them was unbearable. "Let's go. We've already lost too much time."

Dylan didn't contradict him as they hurried out of the shed faster.

If there was one fear greater than that for one's own life, it was that for one's beloved.

Tense and half-crouched, they hurried to the back door. Ryker now knew the house from all sides, so it was not difficult for him to use the cover that offered itself to him until they passed the wild bushes to reach the back entrance. Ryker had already waited out the pouring rain and blazing sun, listening only to the sound of nature and his heart. Calm, steady... even as he took aim and took a shot. But now his heart pounded in his chest like fists against a locked door. Never in his entire life had he been so afraid.

Ryker took a deep breath in a vain attempt to steady his pulse... then waited for another heartbeat and turned his head briefly.

Dylan's eyes met his, and they nodded silently before his hand grasped the latch and slowly pushed down.