Once the plane touched down, and they were rolling to the gate, Stokker called his supervisor. “I have a Code Three on the plane with me. Single white female, twenty-seven years old, red top, blue jeans, short brown hair, carrying a tan duffle bag with black straps. She’s wanted for questioning for what happened at the Saint Regis Hotel in Bristol City a couple of days ago. I need my receiving team to stop and hold her when she exits the jetway.”

            “Roger that. Need more backup?”

            “No, sir. I think the three of us can handle the two of them.”

            “Got it. I’ll send word now. Gee, how much easier can an apprehension get? She got right on the plane with you?”

            “I believe she didn’t know I was aboard. She looked just as astonished as I was.”

            “All right. Sending word now. Good job, Teague.”

            Slipping his phone into the inner breast pocket of his jacket, Stokker resisted the temptation to check behind him. He curled his free hand into a fist in anticipation as the plane came to a stop and the passengers got to their feet to disembark.

            Zorragna made a move as if to stand, but Stokker quickly placed his other hand on the man’s shoulder to hold him down. “First on, last off. That’s the rule.”

            “But I gotta pee,” the guy bemoaned.

            “You gotta wait,” Stokker snapped back.

            Slowly, the passengers filed forward, claiming their baggage from the overhead bins as they made their way off the plane. Eventually, he caught sight of the red blouse passing by at eye level. He looked up at her, making sure she saw the confusion and anger and hurt on his face. She glanced at him with an expression that almost appeared apologetic. Again, neither of them said anything to each other as she continued on out the door. He knew she had to be wondering what he was doing on this flight as much as he was curious to know why she was there, as well.

            As soon as everyone cleared out, Stokker got up and stepped out into the aisle. Zorragna exited, his hands cuffed in front of him and a sweater thrown over them to partially disguise the restraints. Stokker took him by the arm and escorted the man ahead of him.

            Nearing the end of the jetway, he scanned the waiting area for sign of the two officers who were to meet him and take possession of the prisoner. The gate was empty.

            He stopped by the check-in counter and looked around. He was about to pull out his phone and call to find out where they were when he noticed a uniformed policeman hustling toward him. The man was out of breath, his face flushed. When he saw Stokker and the prisoner, he slowed to a jog before stopping in front of him. Stokker already knew what the officer was going to say. “She got away,” he volunteered ahead of the guy.

            “Little minx was fast. As soon as she saw us, she just…” The officer motioned toward the concourse. “It’s like she disappeared into thin air.”

            “Blended into the crowd,” Stokker interpreted.

            The cop nodded. “Yeah.” He threw a thumb behind him. “My partner’s still tailing her, hoping to catch sight of her before she leaves the terminal.”

            Stokker grunted. “Good luck with that. She has a duffle bag, so chances are she’ll bypass baggage claim.”

            “Any idea where she might be heading?”

            “Just to here. That’s all I learned.”

            The officer—G.GOMEZ, according to his name badge—gestured to Zorragna. “Want me to go ahead and take him off your hands?”

            Stokker was tempted. “Let me stick around until your partner shows up,” he suggested, leaning toward caution. Checking around them, he added, “Why don’t we head in that direction? We might meet up with him.”

            Gomez agreed and took the prisoner by the other arm.

            “Don’t forget. I gotta pee,” Zorragna reminded him as they passed by the restrooms.

            “Want me to take him?” Gomez offered.

            Stokker thanked him and accepted. “I’ll wait outside and keep an eye out for your partner.”

            The officer led the guy into the men’s room. Taking a stance against the outer wall, Stokker stared down the concourse toward the exit leading to the elevators which would take the passengers to baggage claim. A sound from behind alerted him to the officer returning with their prisoner.

            Zorragna appeared first, with Gomez holding onto the man’s arm as he guided him out of the restroom. Stokker moved to the side to let the men go ahead of him. He turned to follow when his sixth sense alerted him. At the same time, he caught a glimpse of something red running out of the women’s restroom.

            He reacted automatically, drawing his pistol and aiming it at the form racing past them, but precaution stopped him from pulling the trigger at the last microsecond. There were people walking by. Watching the unfolding scene. Wondering what was going on. The chances of one of them being accidentally shot were too great, and he tilted the barrel upward.

            The form crossed in front of him, directly behind Gomez and the prisoner. The officer never saw her, but Zorragna must have realized something was off. Stokker saw the guy glance over his shoulder just as the form zipped past him. The instant he recognized Diane, Zorragna’s eyes widened to a size Stokker would swear was impossible. Fear with a depth and intensity he’d never witnessed before come over a human being turned the prisoner’s face into a rigid mask. The man’s head snapped backwards, as if his spine had snapped, and Zorragna’s legs went out from under him.

            Stokker reacted without thinking. He jutted his free hand out, and his palm slapped Diane’s arm as she passed him. She looked back at him, and for a fleeing instant…

            Darkness. Images, terrifying and insidious, loomed around him, beneath him, above him. Ready to drag him kicking and screaming into the depths of a horror he could never imagine. A horror that was real and undeniable, and capable of shredding all sanity.

            It lasted for less than a heartbeat, but it turned his blood icy cold.