But not her prison anymore, not for long. She was about to get out. She'd made it. She'd reached the field's edge. Now, she was just a few yards away.

  And then, a dark shape loomed on a cross path and Jenna screamed in fear. He was there, the man with the scythe. He'd been waiting for her, knowing she'd choose this route. He'd anticipated which way her terrified flight would take her.

  "Come here," he said to her, his voice strangely hollow, strangely empty.

  "No!" she screamed. "No!" She turned, knowing her only chance was to run again, to rush blindly back into the corn and try to outpace him. She found a new surge of strength even in her exhaustion, the strength she knew she needed to save her own life.

  But it was too late. His footsteps behind her were fast, heavy, and inexorable.

  They were gaining. He grabbed her shoulder and spun her around to face him.

  Jenna saw a flash of metal and she screamed again. The scythe came down, and this time, that wicked blade was coming directly for her. She felt a clean impact that knocked her right off her feet.

  She sprawled in the corn, the blue sky telescoping in, fading to gray.

  Darkness swiftly followed.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Deputy May Moore climbed out of her car, feeling expectant and excited as she stared at the building ahead of her. This was where, at last, she might find clues to her sister Lauren's disappearance.

  Set in the industrial area of Chestnut Hill in Tamarack County, Minnesota, the storage locker facility looked old and run down.

  "Don't go into the lockers themselves," Pete, the locksmith, had guided her. "If I recall, this safe was in the basement area of the storage facility, with a lot of junk around it. It was used by the owner twenty years ago, but the last time I spoke to him, he said he was going to rent it out, with the units, as he was selling the business."

  Breathing in the cool, early morning air as she hurried to the facility's main entrance, May felt grateful for the locksmith's clear memories of these old-fashioned and uncommon safes. Without his personal recollection of this safe, she would never have known where to find it.

  The early morning breeze ruffled her sandy-blond hair as she rushed to the entrance. She was already in her work uniform. She was going straight from here, to the police department in nearby Fairshore, to start her working day.

  But first, May felt breathless with hope that she might learn more clues about her sister Lauren's disappearance ten years ago.

  Her eighteen-year-old sister had last been seen storming out of the house after a fight with May. She'd taken the trail down to the lake. Someone had been watching and videoing her. This anonymous someone had recently warned May to back off of reinvestigating the case and had broken into her house and left the video on her laptop as a threat.

  But May had now found the two keys needed for access to this safe. One had been in Lauren's evidence box: a surprise item, undocumented and unrecorded. And the other had been found on the site of the old mill a couple of blocks away, where May realized that Lauren's watcher had been waiting.

  The old mill was high-lying and the area where she'd found the key had given a good view of the surrounding neighborhood, which included her parents' house. May wondered if this anonymous criminal had made the mill his lookout point and had stood there waiting to spy on other women and film his videos.

  She hoped that with both keys in her possession, she would get answers.

  She hurried into the building. At six-thirty a.m., it had just opened its doors for the day. A tired-looking attendant in her late-forties was sitting behind the battered wooden counter.

  "Help you?" she asked, slurping on a large cup of coffee.

  "I'm here to get into a safe in the basement." May smiled at her, hoping she could win this woman over, because all she had were the keys. She had no other proof that she was entitled to access this safe and was anticipating there might be a problem.

  Sure enough, the woman seemed unmoved by May's hopeful smile.

  "Where's your proof of payment?" she questioned.

  "Sorry?" May asked, frowning.

  "Your proof of payment. Nobody's allowed to access anything here unless the rental is paid up to date."

  May's eyes widened. This was something she had not expected, although now she thought about it, it did seem logical.

  But it was a huge stumbling block. Who had been paying for the rental of this safe for the past ten years or more? She strongly guessed that nobody had, that there would be no record of payment, but it was worth finding out. What if this gave her a lead about who had put the items in there?

  "What's the last record of payment you have for this safe?" she said, passing over the dimensions and model number that the locksmith had provided.

  The woman peered at it, consulted her list, then shrugged, frowning, causing the lines in her dull-skinned forehead to deepen. "That one was rented out before my time. The current owner bought the business seven years ago, and the old owner never gave us some of the information he was supposed to before he retired out of state."

  "That's so?" May asked, feeling worried.

  "The only way we have of tracing some lockers and safes is when the owners come in wanting to open them. So, where is your payment?" she asked, now with a challenge in her voice.

  May shook her head. She wasn't the authorized owner. She couldn't produce proof of payment and was pretty sure that seven years' worth of monthly rental payments would add up to more than she could afford in any case.

  "It's police business," she said, showing the woman her badge. "This key was found in an evidence box when we opened a cold case."

  She wasn't going to mention where the other key was found, deciding to focus on the evidence box.

  "It was?" Now the attendant seemed more uncertain, and May pushed for the advantage.

  "You'd be assisting in a missing person case if you allowed me to open this safe," she said. "We're always grateful for help from the public when we work on cases. This is a cold case, going back years, and the family is desperate for answers.”

  The family, in this particular instance, was May herself, her parents, and her older sister Kerry. Even though her parents seldom mentioned Lauren, May remembered how much anguish her sister’s disappearance had caused in their lives, and how the pain of not knowing was with them every day, just as it was with her.

  “But if those are the rules, I can come back with a warrant, or even a subpoena if we have to. That will just mean more time wasted on your side,” May wrapped up an argument she hoped would be effective.

  The woman looked dubious. She glanced down at her phone and magazine. May had correctly sensed that the thought of this extra effort and disruption to her routine would persuade her to relent.

  "I'll need you to write your reasons in the book and give me your details. I don't want trouble from the owner," she said eventually, pushing a battered logbook over to May.

  "Sure," May smiled. "Thank you."

  She took one of her business cards out, handed it over, and scribbled a quick, concise explanation in the logbook.

  "I guess you can go down." The woman indicated the stairs behind her. "There are a few safes down there. The one you need is at the very back, on the left."

  "Thank you," May said gratefully.

  Now that she was actually ready to head down those gloomy stairs, she felt surprisingly nervous. What would she find when she opened that safe? Whatever was in there had clearly been there, undisturbed, for more than seven years. Perhaps longer.

  May wondered why this was so. Her spine prickled as she considered the possibilities. Was Lauren's captor laying low? Had he ever intended to try and open this safe again? Did he have spare keys, or had he lost both these keys?

  Was this person even still alive?

  And of course, the question she could never help but ask herself — was Lauren still alive? Could she possibly still be somewhere, held captive and locked away, just like the hidden contents of the safe?

  May reached the stairs and walked down, smelling damp and dust, hearing a faint scuttle from the darkest corner as she descended deep into the dimly lit basement.

  Down here, she felt determined she would find answers. For herself, her parents, and her older sister Kerry, she was going to learn what had happened to Lauren — who had taken her, and why she'd disappeared without a trace that terrible day.

  There was the safe, on the left, at the end of the row, its hulking metal shape visible in the semi-darkness. It looked heavy and solid, and May could see a layer of dust, making the steel on its roof look dull.

  Holding both the keys in fingers that felt cold with nerves and expectation, she approached it.

  She took out her phone and turned on the flashlight, identifying the tiny apertures for keys in its thick steel door. Now her hands were actually trembling with anticipation.

  She dropped the shorter key. It fell with a rattle, and she had to grope for it on the dusty floor.

  Then she inserted it.

  She tried to turn it, but it wouldn't turn or even move, and May felt a brief flare of panic that this wasn't the safe, that it was the wrong one after all, that her sleepless nights and hours of worrying since she learned about this safe's existence had all been for nothing.

  And then she remembered that both keys needed to be in place before the safe could be opened.

  Hurriedly, she inserted the longer key into the almost invisible keyhole.

  It was even rustier. She jiggled and wiggled it, teasing it in, until finally it was in place.

  Now, at last, it was time. Her heart was beating hard. Her mouth felt dry. What would she find in here?

  She held her breath as she turned the first key.

  CHAPTER TWO

  May's hands felt slippery with tension as she twisted the long, metal key.

  She was aware of her pulse thundering in her ears. She was aware of the dust, the gloom, the cold, and the steps behind her that led back up to the surface and the light. She was aware of the quiet hum of the ventilation system.

  But most of all, she was filled with the expectation that she was about to see inside a safe that Lauren's abductor had known about and must have used.

  The long key felt rusty and sticky, as if protesting the fact that she was here to open it up and learn about its hidden secrets.

  In fact, May was realizing it wasn’t going to give them up without a struggle.

  But she'd brought oil with her! There was oil in her purse. She'd almost forgotten about it, having grabbed it out of the kitchen cupboard at the last moment just in case she came across this exact problem.

  May took the key out carefully. She fumbled in her purse, looking for the small can of oil. She sprayed the key and then she sprayed into the lock aperture, hoping that by doing this, this ancient safe would finally be able to be opened.

  Then she put the key in again.

  It wouldn't move. May tugged, turning it harder, but it seemed immovable. Trying to turn it was awkward. Her fingers kept slipping, and she was aware of sweat starting to spring out on the back of her neck.

  "Damn!" she whispered, frustrated.

  She tried again, feeling panic rise in her again as she remembered the pressure of time. The key would not move. It was not going to move. What could she do? She had to get to work! She couldn't kneel here all day on this dusty floor, struggling with a key that seemed to be firmly jammed in the lock.

  Perhaps she wasn't trying hard enough, May decided. She needed to give this everything she had. She needed to force open this rusty old mechanism, because she had to find out what the contents were. She had to!

  Her fingers felt slippery, her knuckles were aching, and her wrist was sore from struggling with the key, but she couldn't give up.

  What if this was the turning point in the case that would finally provide answers? What if this was the day she'd been waiting for since that day ten years ago when her sister had disappeared?

  With a sense of rising panic, May jammed the key deeper, jiggling it from side to side, turning it furiously.

  She started to tug it hard, pulling at the key, yanking at it, then pushing it, trying to figure out a way to force it to turn. The key turned slightly and then she felt it stop again. It was as if something was blocking it.

  Turning the key harder, she pulled, her fingers burning, feeling the lock mechanism move, reluctantly, millimeter by millimeter.

  And then, suddenly, without warning, the key snapped.

  May gasped. She stared down in horror at the broken shaft that was now all she had in her hands. There was a rusted point toward the center of the key where the metal had obviously weakened.

  This was it. She'd broken it. Her own impatience had been her downfall and now she would not be able to find out what lay inside.

  What if she'd broken it beyond repair, May wondered, now feeling ready to burst into tears at the thought. How on earth could you extract a broken key shaft from this tiny and rusted keyhole?

  She was practically sobbing with the sense of disappointment and anxiety she now felt.

  There was only one thing for it, she realized. She was going to have to call Pete, the locksmith, and ask him to come out here.

  He was now her only hope, the only person with the expertise and knowledge to be able to gain access to this old, rusted safe that was so stubbornly keeping its secrets.

  Quickly, May took out his business card from her purse and dialed his emergency number, moving closer to the stairs to get a signal.

  He answered within two rings, sounding wide awake, and May imagined he was already at work, either at his locksmith's shop, or else out on the road helping a customer.

  "Pete speaking?" he asked.

  "Pete, it's May Moore. You told me where the safe was located and I'm here now."

  "You are, Deputy? And what's happened? Is there a problem?"

  "There is! I broke it." May was breathing fast, feeling terrified he’d say that there was nothing he could do.

  "What did you break? Explain to me?"

  Luckily, his calmness was infectious. Forcing herself to regain control of her emotions, May replied, more coherently this time.

  "I tried to get into the safe, but it was rusty and hard to open, and I ended up breaking off the key completely. The longer key is now stuck inside the lock. The shorter key, I haven't yet tried to open, but it's okay so far."

  "Oh, dear. That is a problem."

  May's heart sank. It sounded serious. "Can you fix it?" she asked.

  "Yes, I'll be able to work on it, but it will take some time and some specialist equipment. I probably won't get to it this morning," Pete said. "If I can come through this afternoon, I will."

  "Shall I leave the other key at the front desk for you?"

  "Yes, you do that. And tell them I'll be along as soon as I can."

  "Thank you," May said gratefully, but she hoped that he'd actually be able to fix the problem. He hadn't said he could. He'd just said he would try. She picked up her purse, took the other key out of the safe, and went back upstairs.

  "There's been an issue with opening the safe," she told the attendant. "The key broke."

  "It did?" The attendant tilted her head, as if she wasn’t sure she believed this story.

  "Here's the piece of the key, and here's the other key. Would you be able to keep them here for me, please? Pete the locksmith will be here this afternoon sometime to work on it."

  The attendant gave a heavy sigh as if this additional demand from May was really one favor too many.

  "Okay," she agreed reluctantly.

  May handed over the key and the broken fragment, quickly checking the time. It was already after seven a.m., and she needed to hustle to work now. As the county deputy, she liked to be at the police department earlier than her team. She couldn't let this personal mission interfere with her daily work.

  But, as she handed over the keys to the attendant, May's phone rang. Quickly, she checked it, seeing that it was her boss, Sheriff Jack, on the line.

  She answered hurriedly, "Morning, Jack."

  "Morning, May," he said. "We've just had a crime called in. I'd like you to go straight to the scene. It sounds like a murder, but we’ll need to confirm that when we get there."

  May's eyes widened. "A murder? Sure. Where's the scene?"

  Now, she saw the attendant's eyebrows shoot up, and quickly moved away, heading outside as she got the details from her boss. She didn’t want to cause panic among the community by revealing case details.

  "A woman's body has been found on the edge of a cornfield in the farmland between Chestnut Hill and Lakeview.”

  That sounded like it was in the middle of a quiet farming community, and she was unsure what could have happened. Perhaps it was an accidental death, she thought hopefully, as Jack continued.

  “I'll send you the coordinates. It was discovered about an hour ago, but there's a strong similarity to a murder committed two days ago, which I noticed when I reviewed the stats yesterday. May, I don't want to say it's a serial, but I need you to get there as soon as you can to check it out." Jack sounded worried. "I'm all the way over in the far west of the county, but I'll also get there as soon as I can."

  "I'm on my way right now." May felt her stomach churn at the thought that they might be dealing with a serial killer.

  She needed to find out what was happening, why Jack suspected this, and how a woman had been murdered in the middle of some of the county's most tranquil farmland.

  Knowing that every second counted, she climbed into her car and sped off, heading for the scene.

  CHAPTER THREE

  May headed out of town to where the coordinates were taking her, wondering how this victim’s body had ended up on the edge of a cornfield. How had this murder occurred? Where was the common thread that Sheriff Jack had picked up?

  She hadn’t had the chance to review the county's recent crimes yesterday. She had been helping the local police in Sunnybrook chase down a robber who’d held up a convenience store at gunpoint before fleeing out of the county. That takedown had meant May and Owen had spent the entire day out of Tamarack County.