Fear No Evil Read Online Free PDF Page A

a digital clock of some sort with the numbers running backward.
     
    46:02:36. 46:02:35.
     
    “I don’t know yet,” Patrick said. “Nick’s FBI contact sent us this link and asked if she was Lucy.”
    Though technically the FBI wouldn’t get involved in a typical missing persons case this quickly, Nick’s best friend was the special agent in charge out of Seattle, Quincy Peterson. He had unofficially put the word out about Lucy.
    Nick dialed a number from the house phone and put it on speaker. “Peterson,” the voice answered.
    “Quinn, it’s Nick Thomas. I have you on a speakerphone with Dillon and Patrick Kincaid, Lucy’s brothers.”
    “Is it her?” Quinn asked.
    “Yes,” Patrick said through his clenched jaw.
    “Shit.”
    “Agent Peterson,” Dillon asked, “what’s going on? How did you find her?”
    “A friend found the link.”
    “And you don’t know where Lucy is being held?”
    “No. The webcam feed is masked. He bounces the data all over the world before it’s fed into a server and shown. That server is rotated continually to prevent us from tracking him. We have Quantico putting all their best people on it, and my friend is working on tracking the feed as well, but it’s difficult.”
    Patrick interjected, “That doesn’t make me feel any better. Does this ‘friend’ have a name?”
    “The FBI is getting involved. We’re assembling a task force of the best agents in the country to find your sister.”
    “What can we do?” Dillon asked, realizing Peterson had avoided the question about his “friend.” “My brother Patrick is the head of e-crimes. We can—”
    “What I need is a recap of exactly what happened when Lucy disappeared. Any witnesses?”
    “No,” Dillon said. “She disappeared between nine and eleven yesterday morning. She was supposed to be meeting someone at Starbucks before her graduation, and her car, with her purse and keys inside, was found in the parking lot, but no one saw anything. The employees didn’t think she’d been inside.”
    Nick spoke up. “We learned she’d planned on meeting someone she met online.”
    “Who?”
    “His name is Trevor Conrad and he’s supposed to be a student at Georgetown, but we can’t find any record of him.”
    “I need her computer,” Quinn said. “I’ll send someone from the local FBI office to pick it up.”
    “No,” Dillon said.
    “Hell, no,” Patrick concurred. “We’ll bring it to the task force. Consider yourself working very closely with the San Diego Police Department.”
    “I don’t think—” Quinn began, then relented. “All right. We’re basing operations out of the San Diego field office. I’m on my way down there now.”
    “Agent Peterson,” Dillon said, “what are those numbers in the bottom right corner?”
    When Quinn didn’t say anything for a minute, Dillon prompted, “It looks like a countdown.”
    “It is,” Quinn finally said.
    Dillon was almost afraid to ask, but he did nonetheless.
    “A countdown to what?”
    “Murder.”
     
    Kate monitored her bank of computer screens as her enhanced programs attempted to triangulate the location of Trask’s signal. The largest screen, the one in the middle, was the live feed of the victim.
    Kate did pull-ups on a bar she’d installed in her room as she watched the young woman on the screen. The girl sat frozen, defiant, scared. Trask wouldn’t let her stay like that too long. But for now, he was still whetting his viewers’ appetite, showing them the prize. He’d probably give them something before the first free hours were up, something to entice them to pay the twenty-five thousand.
    At four hours, FBI Agent Paige Henshaw had been raped.
    Sweat coated her skin, but Kate continued the pull-ups until her arms shook. She dropped and did crunches. The air was too thin up here in the mountains to run, so she’d modified her routine, keeping it intense, building her strength.
    She came up on a crunch and caught movement in the