by Blake Pierce
“The clock is ticking,” Kat said coldly.
She heard the woman inhale sharply, obviously trying to control her resentment. When she responded, it was in slow, clipped language.
“I know how this man—this Night Hunter—thinks. He is ten steps ahead of you and your LAPD friends. Despite that, he’s growing frustrated that he hasn’t gotten to Jessie. But he will have made contingency plans. And those plans involve you, Katherine. You are the weak link. I promise you that he knows about you. After all, I do and I’m locked up. He will manipulate you, without you ever knowing it, to get to her. He may have already laid the trap. And if you’re not careful, you’ll fall into that trap and put your dear friend’s life in jeopardy. And since I can’t protect her from in here, you have to do it out there. I know this is counterintuitive, Katherine, but don’t trust your instincts. Just like your eyes, they can deceive you.”
The line went dead. Kat didn’t know if Robinson had hung up or been abruptly cut off. Leaning against the showroom wall, she realized that she’d been holding her breath ever since the woman mentioned the Night Hunter. She exhaled and sucked in a new breath, and then another.
When her breathing returned to something close to normal, she tried to decide what to make of the call. She looked down at the picture of Robinson that she’d pulled up on her phone. It was from before she was convicted, at some kind of gala back when she seemed to be a philanthropic pillar of the community.
She was attractive in a nondescript sort of way. Her blonde hair was shoulder-length and far less fussy than the other women around her in the photo. About five foot five and 125 pounds, she seemed unremarkable in almost every way. That is, except for her eyes. They were a deep blue and twinkled with a mischievous sharpness. In retrospect, “malicious” might be a better description than mischievous.
She knew that Andrea Robinson was incredibly intelligent. She also knew that despite trying to kill Jessie, the woman harbored a genuine affection, if not obsession, for her. It didn’t make sense that she would call merely to bait the person she thought had replaced her in Jessie’s circle. It was possible that she was legally insane, but she still needed to be taken seriously.
Kat briefly considered reaching out to Jessie to tell her about the call, but then thought better of it. Until she had something substantial to work with, these were technically just the musings of an unbalanced, jailed murderer. Besides, Jessie had enough on her plate without having to worry about another person fixating on her who had once tried to kill her. It could wait.
She returned to the accounting office and looked at the screen with the video of the purchased but never collected Ford Tempo sitting forlornly beside its Honda Civic friend. For some reason, Andy Robinson’s words popped into her head: Don’t trust your instincts. Just like your eyes, they can deceive you.
A thought popped into her head, one she was embarrassed hadn’t occurred to her until now. All this time, her eyes had been preoccupied with the Tempo, mainly because she assumed the Night Hunter was too. But that wasn’t a certainty.
How could she be sure that when he first walked onto the lot, he hadn’t come across the two old cars side by side and been drawn to the Civic first? What if he had already looked at that vehicle—maybe even sat in it—by the time the salesman arrived and saw him expressing interest in the Tempo? There was no video of the visit and therefore, no reason to think he’d looked at anything other than the one car…until now. Suddenly invigorated, she walked over to the sleeping accountant and shook him awake.
He looked up at her blearily and muttered, “What?”
“I need you to get the keys to the Civic in the used lot.”
Looking confused and irritated, he wiped a line of drool from his mouth.
“Why?’ he whined.
She didn’t have time to waste or patience to spare.
“Just get up and get the goddamn keys!”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
She knew she was going to catch hell.
It was almost 11 p.m. and for the second time this week, Ellen Wade was essentially closing the gym down. She waved goodbye to Teddy, the night manager of Mile High Muscle, then hurried through the nearly empty parking lot to her car, bundling up tight against the cold. Hypothermia was always a risk during a Wildpines winter, but especially so when one was sweaty after a workout. She zipped the puffy jacket all the way up to her chin.
As she walked, she looked at the text from her husband, Gerard. As usual, he was complaining about her being out so late. It was another in his nonstop series of grievances. She worked endless hours. She was never around, even at night.
It didn’t seem to occur to him that she was never around because she was constantly running ragged. In addition to operating the only quality website services firm in town, she was also the primary caregiver to their two children. That meant dropping off both Geoff and Estie at school and picking them up later. It meant going to rock-climbing practice and ballet. It meant making breakfast and dinner every day and getting guilt trips if it wasn’t ready on time.
Gerard liked to gripe that because he worked down the hill in Banning, he had the rougher go of it. But that commute gave him a perfect excuse to never be on call. It was getting old, which was why she insisted on her private gym time. After all, at the hour she went the kids were in bed asleep. Besides, most nights he was just going to watch re-runs of Law & Order while pounding beers anyway. Her absence wasn’t noted specifically because he missed her, but because it meant he had to find the detergent or put a kid back to bed after a nightmare. So she allowed herself this lone personal perk. Well, this and one other, but that was her little secret.
After getting another text asking when she was getting back, she shoved the phone in her coat pocket. She’d answered the question less than five minutes ago. He’d simply have to wait until she pulled into the driveway at home to get his answer. She reached her car and unlocked the door. She was about to open it when she caught a glimpse of herself in the one, dull overhead parking lot light.
She had to admit that she looked pretty good. She’d had two kids before thirty and worked a job that had her at a desk in front of a screen for about ten hours a day. But she’d managed to keep something close to her college-age figure. She pulled off her beanie and her dirty blonde, ponytailed hair flopped out. It wasn’t too arrogant to think she could pass for twenty-seven instead of the thirty-three she was.
She opened the door and tossed her beanie and workout bag across to the passenger seat. She was just about to get in when she heard a frustrated “damn.” She jumped, slightly startled. She’d thought she was alone in the parking lot. Looking around to find the source of the curse, she saw something she’d missed earlier. A woman with her back to her was about fifty feet away, leaning over her car engine with her hood up. The woman seemed to be using her phone flashlight to discern her problem.
“Are you okay?” Ellen called out.
The woman didn’t respond. Ellen was debating whether to just leave when she saw that the woman had ear buds in. No wonder she hadn’t replied. Between that and her hushed, repeated muttering “damn, damn, damn,” it was clear that her focus was elsewhere.
Ellen sighed. She couldn’t just leave her alone in a near-empty parking late at night. She’d never be able to live with herself. So she shut her door and headed over.
“Excuse me,” she called out as she approached not wanting to scare the woman, who was small, with long black hair. Ellen couldn’t see her face and had no idea if she knew her from around town. Again she called out.
“Excuse me, ma’am. You know the gym over there is open if you need to call for a tow. Better to wait inside where it’s warm than—.”
She hadn’t finished the sentence when the woman spun around. Ellen’s eyes opened wide in confusion, then surprise. She knew who this was. But something wasn’t right. That’s when she saw the knife coming toward her. There was no time to block it. She barely had time to move at all. Only h
er hyper-alertness after the recent workout allowed her to shuffle to her right. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of the blade as it sliced the air just to her left.
She started to turn and run but lost her footing on the slick parking lot pavement and narrowly avoided falling down. Once she regained her balance, she looked up to see that her assailant had recovered as well. The knife was coming toward her again. For a brief moment she thought that maybe her thick jacket would protect her. But as the knife plunged into her throat, she realized she was wrong.
CHAPTER TWENTY
For a second when the call first came in, Jessie panicked.
She opened her eyes and didn’t recognize where she was. This wasn’t the bedroom in her Mid-Wilshire home. It wasn’t the one in the Sherman Oaks safe house either. It was only when she felt the bitter cold sneak in under the covers that she remembered she was in Undersheriff Rich McClane’s cabin in Wildpines.
She fumbled for the phone and knocked it off the end table beside the bed. As she scrambled to retrieve it, she heard Ryan moan in frustration. From the other room, Hannah yelled out “answer it!”
Finally, she got hold of the thing and picked up without even looking to see who it was.
“Yeah?”
“Ms. Barnes?” asked a hesitant young male voice that sounded vaguely familiar.
“What?” she demanded, about to ream out someone for misdialing her at what appeared to be 4:57 a.m. Then she remembered who she was and added, “Yes, this is she.”
“This is Garrett, er, Deputy Hicks. I’m sorry to call you so early but we found another victim. It’s a local woman named Ellen Wade. I thought you and Detective Hosea would want to know right away.”
Jessie sat up in the bed. She allowed herself a moment for the wave of frustration and growing anger to pass through her. When she was sure she could respond professionally, she put the phone on speaker.
“Of course, Garrett. Where and when was she found?”
“In the Brightside Market parking lot about ten minutes ago. I’m here now. There are several other businesses that share the lot. One of them is a local gym that opens at 5 a.m. and Don—he’s one of the trainers there—was opening up the place. He noticed Ellen’s car in the parking lot, which he said was unusual because she usually works out late at night. Then he saw some blood in the snow a little ways off. He followed it to the side of the lot, where there’s a steep drop off. He looked down and saw her in the ravine. I just checked myself and it’s her. I didn’t get too close but it looks like she was stabbed—a lot.”
“Okay,” Jessie said, rolling out of the bed and putting her feet on the chilly wooden floor. “Block off the area. Call whoever you normally call to handle crime scenes. We’ll be there in ten minutes.”
*
They got there in eight.
To Jessie’s surprise, when they arrived the lot was still mostly empty. It was still pitch black out. Sunrise wasn’t for almost another two hours. They parked and got out. The bitter mountain wind whipped through the car, slicing into her. She looked at her phone. The wind chill was nineteen degrees. They walked over to where Garrett was standing, an anxious look on his face.
“How are you doing?” Ryan asked him.
“I’ve been better. I knew Ellen pretty well. She helped me set up the website for my band in high school. Even though she gets paid a lot from most of her clients, she didn’t charge me a thing. She even taught me a few basics about coding. I know everyone in this town and I felt bad for Clarice Kimble and Sarah Ripley, but this one is different somehow. I really liked her. Plus she has two kids in elementary school. I don’t know what’s going to happen to them. Her husband’s kind of a jerk. I don’t think he’s going to be a great single parent.”
Jessie allowed herself a few seconds to take in the enormity of the loss. Not only did a woman die, but a whole family may have been destroyed. After the pause, she blinked a few times to refocus and decided to help Garrett do the same.
“Garrett, I’m sorry. It sounds like she was a nice person. I want you to take a moment to process this. I know it’s lot.”
He nodded and stepped away, looking at the not-yet-visible mountains to the east. She and Ryan stayed quiet for close to a minute before she spoke again.
“What I’m going to tell you now may sound harsh and I apologize for that, but hopefully you’ll understand. Whatever remaining feelings of grief and pity are still weighing you down; you need to set them aside. There will be opportunities to work through all that later. But right now, time is of the essence. You’re a Riverside County Sheriff’s deputy. The best way for you to honor Ellen is to help us catch her killer. And that means concentrating on doing your job well. Would you agree with that?”
Garrett nodded.
“Okay, then we have a lot to do and not much time to do it in. So let’s get started. Why don’t you show us the body?”
Garrett led them to the spot where the parking lot ended, meeting the dirt at the edge of the hill. They looked down. About twenty feet below them, just above where the ground flattened out, a woman was lying on her back. She was wearing black tights and a heavy coat stained in blood. Her eyes were open. Her face was white.
Jessie looked at the spot at the top of the hill where the blood ended. That was where she was dumped from. The blood trail retreated to a snow-dusted parking spot about thirty feet away.
“Whoever did this had to be strong to drag her that far,” she noted.
“They must have surprised her too,” Garrett added.
“Why do you say that?” Ryan asked.
“Ellen was pretty tough. She was in good shape. I know she took a Muay Thai class at the gym. She wouldn’t have just accepted her fate if she saw it coming. She was a fighter.”
Ryan nodded. Looking around he asked, “Is that her car?”
“Yeah,” Garrett confirmed. “Like I said, that’s what got Don’s attention. Occasionally people are already waiting when he opens the gym doors at five. But he said Ellen was a late-nighter. She usually showed up around 9:30 or 9:45 and stuck around until they closed at 11.”
“Where’s Don now?” Ryan asked.
“He’s inside,” Garrett said, pointing at the gym, which was only about fifty paces from Wade’s car. “Don’t worry. I told him to keep his mouth shut until I gave him the okay.”
“Is that why there are no curious onlookers?” Jessie asked.
“Partly; none of the other businesses are open yet. The market opens at seven, most others around nine. There’d be no reason for anyone to stop by unless they were working out. That’s why I didn’t use any police tape to block off the scene yet. I figured that would draw more attention than just a few folks standing here. I hope that’s okay.”
“It’s good thinking,” Jessie told him. “We’ll hold off on that as long as we can. When are the crime scene people arriving?”
“I actually called Rich McClane so he could coordinate that. He’s got more pull than me and he said I should go directly through him on this case, on account of you two not being local. He doesn’t want politics to get in the way of the investigation. Anyway, he told me a team will be here within the hour, and that was ten minutes ago. He also wanted me to let you know he’d be calling you directly once he has a spare minute.”
“That should be fun,” Ryan said, pulling out his phone and using the camera to zoom in on Ellen Wade’s body. “What about the on-call deputy, Traven? We’ll need a little more manpower once things get busy around here.”
“Yes sir,” Garrett said. “I told him that I needed some backup this morning. He’s coming up from Mountain Center. The road hasn’t been cleared yet but even so, it shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes. I didn’t want to tell him to hurry because he’d ask what the rush was. Pete Traven’s a good cop but he’s not the most discreet guy I ever met. I worry that telling him too much too early could lead to those crowds we’re trying to avoid.”
“Okay,” Ryan sai
d approvingly, “in the meantime, I think Jennifer and I are going to go down to get a closer look. It’s pretty windy this morning and I want to get some photos in case anything gets blown away. Can you keep an eye on things up here?”
Garrett nodded.
“Be careful,” he warned. “The hill is steep and with the snow and ice, it’s easy to slip.”
*
He was right. Jessie almost lost her balance twice. As they made their way down, she noticed that, though Ryan took his time, he was navigating the terrain better than she would have expected. Still, even though Ellen Wade was only twenty feet down, it took about three minutes to get to her. When they arrived they gave the body a wide berth.
“It looks like she was stabbed at least a half dozen times,” Ryan said.
“That’s more than either Clarice or Sarah,” Jessie noted. “It’s like the killer is getting more frenzied every time.”
Ryan nodded in agreement though his attention seemed to be elsewhere. He was staring intently at the body.
“What is it?” Jessie asked.
“I can’t tell for sure,” he said slowly, “and I don’t want to get any closer and contaminate the scene, but do you see that long dark fiber in the dried blood on the front of her jacket?”
Jessie peered closer.
“Yes,” she said. “It looks like a strand of hair.”
“Right,” Ryan said. “And it’s black. Ellen Wade is blonde. I think we might have found a piece of the killer’s hair.”
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Jessie knew there was a problem when Rich McClane didn’t call them for another hour.
By then the crime scene unit had bagged the black strand of hair and was preparing to do the same to Ellen Wade’s body. With the big CSU van in the parking lot, as well as both Garret’s and Traven’s squad cars, a small crowd had assembled. Reluctantly, the police tape was brought out.
