CHAPTER SEVEN
Keri was totally bewildered. A moment earlier, Anderson had been tearing up at the thought of her missing daughter. Now he was holding a razor-sharp piece of plastic to her throat.
Her first instinct was to make a move to break his grip. But she knew it wouldn’t work. There was no way she could do anything before he’d be able to jam the plastic spike into her vein.
Besides, something about this wasn’t right. Anderson had never given her any sense that he had malice toward her. He seemed to actually like her. He seemed to want to help her. And if he really had cancer, this was a fruitless exercise. He said himself that he’d be dead soon.
Is this way of avoiding the agony, his version of suicide by cop?
“Drop it, Anderson!” Officer Kiley screamed, his weapon pointed in the
