The Soul Collectors Read Free

with dark black hair and olive skin, his rolls noticeable under the white Star Wars T-shirt with Darth Vader. This one’s the most recent picture of Charlie.
    Trent shouted, ‘When was the last time you spoke to the parents?’
    ‘Back when they were living in Massachusetts – in Brookline. Must’ve been … maybe two years or so after Charlie vanished. They came to ask me about some private investigator who offered to help them. The father was thinking of cashing in some of his retirement account to pay for it and wanted to know if I knew this guy, what I thought. I told them to save their money.’
    ‘They hire him?’
    Darby nodded. ‘Nothing came of it. No new leads. I think they hired another guy who specialized in missing kids, but I don’t know for sure. When did they move to New Hampshire?’
    ‘When their girls got accepted to UNH. They’re finishing up their final year. They’re living at home, not at the college. After what happened to the boy, I guess the parents wanted the girls to stick close so they could keep an eye on ’em.’
    ‘You need a hostage negotiator.’
    ‘Already got one. Guy named Billy Lee. He’s already made contact.’
    ‘So why am I here?’
    ‘Person holding the family hostage, he’s demanding to speak to you – won’t speak to anyone but you.’
    ‘What’s his name, do we know?’
    Trent nodded. ‘Guy’s saying he’s their kid – their son, Charlie Rizzo.’

3
    Darby stared at Trent. Stared at him for what seemed like a long time.
    ‘You heard me right,’ Trent shouted. ‘Guy said he can prove it too.’
    ‘How?’
    ‘He won’t say. This guy – let’s just call him Charlie, keep it simple – Charlie says he won’t speak to anyone but you. Said that if we can get you to come up here and talk to him, alone, face to face, he’ll release the hostages. I’m not buying it. He’s already shot someone.’
    ‘Who?’
    ‘Don’t know the vic’s name; he didn’t have any ID on him. He’s a white male, bald, somewhere in his fifties. Charlie shot this guy in the back. Twice. Ambulance arrived at the house before we did and found the vic lying in shrubs. Last report is this guy’s still alive but unconscious. He lost a lot of blood.’
    ‘How do you know Charlie shot him?’
    ‘He called 911 and told the operator.’
    ‘ Charlie made the call?’
    Trent nodded. ‘He identified himself by name to the dispatcher, then told the woman about the shooting and dumping the body out the window – told her exactly where it was lying. Then he said he’s holding the Rizzo family hostage and – get this – the son of a bitch requested a SWAT team. Said he wouldn’t release a single hostage unless a SWAT team was brought to the house along with some sort of bulletproof vehicle. Oh, and the body dumped in the shrubs? He told the dispatcher it was a gift. For you.’
    Darby shifted in her seat. ‘Those were his exact words?’
    Trent nodded, checking his watch.
    ‘He say why he asked for me?’
    ‘No. You have any ideas?’
    She shook her head. ‘Has he asked for any other demands besides wanting to talk to me?’
    ‘No, just you.’
    Darby took a moment to digest this. Not for one second did she believe Charlie Rizzo was alive and waiting for her at this house; but someone had summoned her, and this person’s actions and choice of words were unsettling, to say the least.
    Trent shouted, ‘I talked with your former SWAT instructor.’
    ‘Haug.’
    Trent nodded. ‘He gave you nothing but high praise. Said you’re one of the best shooters he’s ever seen, that you know how to handle yourself in close-quarter combat. He called you Rambo with tits.’
    That sounds like something Haug would say , Darby thought, grinning. The man was without a filter. Haug called it like he saw it and didn’t give two shits about political correctness. He had no shades of grey in him. You always knew where you stood with him. She wished there were more people like him in her