The Last Widow. Karin Slaughter

off, which was a godsend. The blazing pain in his eyes melted into a slow burn.

      The nurse from before lifted his chin at Will. “Those crunches paid off, my man.”

      “This is your lower abdomen.” The radiologist was pointing to a screen of blobs that Will guessed were his organs. “I don’t see any bleeding. Most of the bruising is in the surface. He’s right about the crunches. Your abdominal muscle created a corset around the organs. But here, you have a micro-tear in the periosteum.” He traced around a rib that looked like it was still in one piece. “That’s a tissue-thin membrane that surrounds the bone. You need to ice it three times a day. Take Advil or get something stronger if you need it. We’ll put you on a pulmonary plan to keep your lungs healthy. Moderate activity is okay but nothing strenuous.” He looked up at Will. “You got lucky, but you need to take it easy.”

      Faith held up her phone. “Amanda, the video just came through.”

      Will didn’t ask what video. They were clearly doing things without him.

      “Let’s go somewhere else.” Amanda took them to the stairway opposite the one they’d come down.

      She pointed to the treads. “Sit.”

      Will sat because he needed to.

      Amanda pulled a wrapped piece of gum out of her purse. He heard a snap, then she waved it under his nose.

      Will reared back like a horse. His heart slammed against his spine. His brain broke open. Everything got sharper. He could see the grout in the joints between the concrete blocks.

      Amanda showed him the packet he’d mistaken for gum. “Ammonium ampoules.”

      “Fuck,” Will panicked. “Did you drug me?”

      “Stop being a baby. It’s smelling salts. I woke you up because I need you to pay attention to this.”

      Will’s nose was running. She handed him a tissue as she sat beside him.

      Faith stood on the other side of the railing. She held out her phone so they could all watch a video.

      Will saw a parking lot. The footage was in black and white, but sharp. A woman was walking with her daughter toward a Subaru.

      Dark hair, slim build. Will recognized her from the stories on the news a month ago, not from the woman he’d seen today.

      Michelle Spivey.

      Her daughter was walking ahead of her. Looking at her phone. Swinging the shopping bags. Michelle was searching her purse for her keys when a dark, unmarked van pulled up beside her daughter. The driver’s face wasn’t visible through the windshield. The side door slid open. A man jumped out. The daughter ran.

      The man reached for Michelle.

      Faith paused the video and zoomed in on the man’s face.

      “That’s him,” Will said. The driver of the Chevy Malibu. “Clinton. That’s what they called him, but I’m sure that’s not his name.”

      Faith mumbled under her breath.

      “Who is he?”

      “He’s not in the system.” Amanda motioned for Faith to close the video. “We’re working the case. This is another piece of the puzzle.”

      Will shook his head. She had made a mistake using the smelling salts. He wasn’t half out of it anymore. “You’re lying to me.”

      Her satellite phone rang. She stuck her finger in the air for silence, answering, “Yes?”

      Will held his breath, waiting.

      Amanda shook her head.

       Nothing.

      She walked out into the hallway, letting the door close behind her.

      Will didn’t look at Faith when he said, “You know his name, don’t you?”

      Faith took a sharp breath. “Adam Humphrey Carter. He’s been in and out of prison for grand larceny, B-and-E, domestic violence, making terroristic threats.”

      “And rape,” Will guessed.

      Faith took another breath. “And rape.”

      The word stayed balanced on the edge of the cliff between them.

      The door opened.

      “Faith.” Amanda waved her over, whispered something into her ear.

      Faith headed up the stairs. The hand she put on Will’s shoulder as she ran past did nothing to reassure him.

      “The elevators are too slow,” Amanda said. “Can you manage six flights?”

      Will gripped the railing and pulled himself up. “You said you’d tell me everything.”

      “I said you would hear everything I hear. Do you want to be with me when I talk to Hurley or not?” She didn’t wait. She started up the stairs. Her spiked heels stabbed into the treads. She rounded the corner without looking to see if he was following.

      Will trudged up after her. His brain kept throwing up images—Sara standing in the doorway of the shed. Sara running ahead of him to the Chevy. The panicked expression on her face when she’d handed him the key fob. She had known something was wrong before he did. She had called it back at the Porsche. Will should’ve dragged her to the BMW and taken her home.

      He looked at his watch.

      3:06 p.m.

      Sara had been missing for over an hour. She could be crossing the Alabama state line right now. She could be tied down in the woods while Adam Humphrey Carter ripped her in two.

      His stomach clenched. He was going to be sick again.

       You let them steal my daughter.

      “Hold up.” Amanda had stopped on the fourth-floor landing. “Take a minute.”

      “I don’t need a minute.”

      “Then maybe you should try this in heels.” She took off her shoe and rubbed her foot. “I need to catch my breath.”

      Will stared down at the stairs. He tried to clear away all the dark thoughts. He looked at his watch again. “It’s 3:07. Sara’s been gone for—”

      “Thank you, Captain Kangaroo. I know how to tell time.” She shoved her foot back into the shoe. Instead of continuing the climb, she unzipped her purse and started digging around inside.

      Will said, “That man, Carter. He’s a rapist.”

      “Among other things.”

      “He has Sara.”

      “I’m aware of that.”

      “He could be hurting her.”

      “He could be running for his life.”

      “You’re not being completely honest with me.”

      “Wilbur, I’ve never been completely anything.”

      Will didn’t have the strength to keep chasing his own tail. He leaned against the wall. He wrapped his hands around the railing. He looked down at his sneakers. They were stained green from mowing the grass. Red streaks of dirt and blood wrapped around his calves. He could still feel the cold stone floor of the shed against his knees. He closed his eyes. He tried to summon up the memory of that blissful moment before everything went wrong, but all he could feel was guilt gnawing a hole in his chest.

      He told Amanda, “She was driving the car.”

      She looked up from her purse.

      “When they left, Sara was driving. They didn’t have to knock her out or—” He shook his head. “She told them to kill her. She wasn’t going to go with them. But she went with them. She drove them away.”

      He