“Mofina is one of the best thriller writers in the business.”—Library Journal Deep in the woods of upstate New York a woman flees a blazing barn. She is burned beyond recognition, and her dying words point police to a labyrinth of “confinement rooms”—rooms designed to hold human beings captive—where they make other chilling discoveries. In Manhattan, Kate Page, a single mom and reporter with a newswire service, receives a heart-stopping call from a detective on the case. A guardian angel charm found at the scene fits the description of the one belonging to Kate’s sister, Vanessa, who washed away after a car crash in a mountain river twenty years ago. Kate has spent much of her life searching for the truth behind her little sister’s disappearance. Now, a manhunt for a killer who’s kept a collection of victims prisoner for years without detection becomes her final chance to either mourn Vanessa’s death—or save her life. Previously published. Full Tilt Rick Mofina CONTENTS Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Chapter 49 Chapter 50 Chapter 51 Chapter 52 Chapter 53 Chapter 54 Chapter 55 Chapter 56 Chapter 57 Chapter 58 Chapter 59 Chapter 60 Chapter 61 Chapter 62 Chapter 63 Chapter 64 Chapter 65 Chapter 66 Chapter 67 Chapter 68 Chapter 69 Chapter 70 Chapter 71 Epilogue CHAPTER 1 Rampart, New York The old burial grounds. Nobody ever goes out there. Chrissie was uneasy about her boyfriend’s birthday wish to “do it” there. “That place gives me the creeps, Robbie.” “Come on, babe. Think of it as your first time with an eighteen-year-old man, and our first time in a graveyard. How cool is that?” Robbie sucked the last of his soda through his straw, then belched. “Besides, we’ve done it everywhere else in this dog-ass town.” Sad but true. There was not much else to do here. Rampart was a tired little city in Riverview County, at the northern border of New York. It was home to small-town America—flag-on-the-porch patriots, fading mom-and-pop shops, a call center for a big credit card company, a small Amish community and a prison. The way Chrissie saw it, all people in Rampart did was work, get drunk, have sex, bitch about life and dream of leaving town. Except maybe the Amish, she thought—they seemed content. Chrissie and Robbie had been together for two-and-a-half years. Now, as they sat in his father’s Ford Taurus waiting for the light, she contemplated the dilemma facing them. She’d been accepted at a college in Florida. Robbie didn’t want her to go. He was getting a job at the prison and was talking about marriage. Chrissie loved Robbie but told him she was not going to stay and be a Rampart prison guard’s wife, working at the mall, driving her kids everywhere while trying not to hit the Amish buggies. Chrissie wouldn’t be leaving for a couple of months, but Robbie avoided talking about it. He lived in the moment. That was fine, but sooner or later she would have to end it with him. But not tonight. Not on his birthday. The light changed and they rolled by the Riverview Mall. Its vast parking lot was deserted and dark. “So, are you up for the boneyard, babe?” Robbie was already guiding the Taurus along the highway out of town. The white lines rushed under them and she made a suggestion. “Why don’t we go to Rose Hill?” “Naw, we go there all the time.” Chrissie felt Robbie’s hand on her leg. “Come on. It’s my birthday.” “But it’s so freakin’ creepy. Nobody goes out there.” “That’s what makes it fun.” He rubbed her inner thigh. “I got the sleeping bag in the trunk.” Chrissie sighed and looked out her window at the summer night. “Okay.” The headlights reached into the darkness as they drove beyond town. The Ford’s high beams captured the luminescent eyes of animals watching from the forests along the lonely drive. After several miles, Robbie slowed to a stop and turned off the road onto an overgrown pathway. It was marked with an old weather-beaten sign that was easy to miss and bore two words: Burial Grounds. The car swayed and dipped as he drove slowly over worn ruts until they stopped at a no-trespassing sign wired to a gate that was secured with a chain and lock. “There, see.” Chrissie pointed. “We can’t get in.” Robbie slipped the transmission into Park. “Yes we can.” He got out and went to the gate, his T-shirt glowing against the blackness. Moths fluttered around the headlights as he worked on the lock, and the only sound was the chorus of crickets. Chrissie knew the area’s history. She’d written about it for a ninth-grade paper. In the late 1800s, the state built a large insane asylum in Rampart. It had its own cemetery because locals didn’t want patients buried next to their loved ones. When the asylum was closed down forty years ago, all the headstones had been removed and grave sites kept secret to protect the families’ privacy. There was nothing there now but a stretch of green grass bordered by lush woods. Robbie unlocked the lock, the chain jingling as he removed it and opened the gate. After edging the car through, he closed it. “How did you open that lock?” “Trev’s dad works with DOT and he told me that if you give that old lock the right twist, it’ll open.” Robbie drove slowly along the wooded border of the graveyard, cut the engine and killed the lights. Stars blazed above. Guided by the light of Robbie’s phone, they walked to a remote section where the grass was like thick carpet. They unrolled the sleeping bag. “Nothing around but the crazy dead under us.” “Shh, birthday boy.” Robbie slipped his hands around Chrissie’s waist then under her shirt and jeans. They kissed and as her fingers found his zipper she froze, pulled away and looked into the pitch-black forest. “What is it?” “Something’s out there!” Robbie followed her gaze to flames, flickering deep in the woods. “What’s that?” Chrissie held Robbie tighter. “I don’t know. There’s nothing there for acres.” “There’s an old barn the asylum used years ago,
