Free Race Against Time by Christy Barritt Page B

authorities. He’d even known enough about her that he’d included her son’s name in the note. Her heart felt ice-cold at the thought.
    Why had her attacker picked these words? What was so important about her writing these sentences exactly as he dictated? It just didn’t make sense. The cadence of the words was off. Like on the sentence that started with “On a brighter note.” Then the next sentence was just a fragment. If the killer had so carefully planned the note, why had he chosen those awkwardly phrased sentences?
    She leaned back in the dining-room chair. What if the killer was trying to say something else through the note? She stared at the words a moment, trying to figure out if there was some code to the letters. What were some codes that people used? Every third letter maybe? She tried it, but only ended up with an odd assortment of letters.
    After trying the first letter of every word and various other ideas, she felt ready to give up. She put her forehead to the table, fighting tears.
    “I didn’t know you were still up.”
    Madison gasped and jerked her head back. Kayla stood in the kitchen doorway. She relaxed slightly and chuckled at her overreaction. “Kayla.”
    Her friend approached the table, a sympathetic expression on her face. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I should have known better.”
    Madison waved her off, even though her heart still beat double time. “You’re fine. I’m just looking at this note that the man forced me to write. Something’s off about it and I’m trying to figure out what. It’s got me on edge.”
    Kayla stepped forward. “You mind if I look? I’m pretty good with puzzles. Maybe I’ll see something you didn’t.”
    “Go right ahead.”
    Kayla sat beside her and cautiously took the paper, slipping it from Madison’s hand. Her eyes scanned the words there for what felt like hours. “Maybe there’s some kind of hidden message here. Is that what you’re thinking?”
    “That’s exactly what I was wondering.”
    Kayla glanced up. “What have you tried already?”
    Madison told her about all of the brainstorms she’d had, none of which had panned out.
    Kayla narrowed her eyes at the paper. “How about the first letter of every sentence?”
    Madison gripped her pen against the scrap paper in front of her. “Read them to me.”
    “B, r, o, o, k, l, y, n.”
    Madison stared at the paper. “Brooklyn? The letters spell Brooklyn . That can’t be a coincidence, can it?”
    “I don’t think so.” Kayla’s face looked white. “Brody’s from Brooklyn. I don’t think that can be a coincidence, either. You need to call him. Now.”
    * * *
    Twenty minutes later Brody showed up again at Kayla’s house. Madison could see the worry and curiosity in his gaze as he stepped inside. She could also see the weariness in his eyes. He was operating primarily on caffeine, Madison would bet. Every minute that he wasn’t watching over her, she could easily see him working on the case, even if it meant forfeiting sleep.
    Brody turned to Madison. “What’s going on?”
    Madison held up the note, not wanting her heart to soften too much. What if Brody had more to do with this than he let on? The note had spelled the name of the place Brody had just moved from. What if he wasn’t innocent in all of this? “I knew there was something strange about the words I had to write on this note, so Kayla and I decided to play detective. We discovered that the first letter of each sentence spells the word Brooklyn. ”
    His eyes narrowed. “As in Brooklyn, New York?”
    “Exactly.”
    He reached for the paper. “Can I see the note again?”
    Madison handed it to him. He studied it for several minutes, grunting and nodding. A certain melancholy seemed to settle over him. “Good work, ladies. I’m going to look into this.”
    She wasn’t going to let him leave that easily. “Brody, why would someone send a message to you through a supposed suicide note that he had me