She yawned and he motioned toward the couch. “You want to take a nap? I’ve got my laptop with me and can do some work while you sleep.”
She hesitated. “If I was really tired, I’d take advantage of that, but for now, I think I’ll work in the upstairs bathroom peeling that nasty green wallpaper off while I wait on the window guy.”
“Want some help?”
“No, you need to work. I’ll be fine. Just direct the window guys up there when they get here, will you?”
“Sure.”
While he went to get the laptop from his car, Penny grabbed her supplies from the hall closet and climbed the stairs to the second floor. For a moment, she simply stood looking right, then left. A sense of pride filled her. She’d come a long way from the scared and grieving teen in juvie to present day.
She heard Holt return and smiled. She liked having him there. She liked him a lot and she knew he liked her too. The thought curved her smile south. Holt deserved someone without so much baggage. Not to mention the current trouble she was having with the media. She still couldn’t believe they weren’t camped out just beyond her property line.
But they weren’t yet, and she’d take that as a win.
For the next forty-five minutes she worked, stripping the paper from the wall. Occasionally she’d hear Holt downstairs. Once, she heard him pacing while he spoke on the phone.
Then the doorbell rang. An hour later, she had two new windows installed. Three hours after that, she had a shiny new alarm system wired to the control panel just inside her kitchen door.
She studied it with Holt at her side. “You realize I’m going to set this thing off by accident, right?”
“You get a couple of freebies before they start charging you.”
“Awesome.”
“But you feel safer with it, right?”
“I do.” She smiled up at him. “Thank you for making it happen so fast.”
“Hey, what good are having connections if you can’t put them to use every so often?” His phone buzzed and he glanced at the screen. “Excuse me.”
“Of course.”
While he took the call, Penny cleaned up the area under the windows, then went back to stripping the wallpaper in the bathroom. Just as she pulled the last strip off, she heard Holt’s footsteps on the stairs.
“Hey,” he said from the door. “DNA came back on the guy in the morgue. I’m heading back to the hospital to pick up Marty.”
“Wow, that was fast.”
“They rushed it due to the fact we have a serial killer on the loose, and the dead guy in the morgue is our only tangible lead at the moment. The more we know about him, the faster we’re liable to catch Rabor. Are you going to be all right?”
“Yes. I’m just going to start prepping this wall for painting. Might as well take advantage of the extra time while I have it.”
He shot her a smile. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
She met his gaze. “Will you tell me who the guy is as soon as you can?”
“Absolutely.”
Penny waited until she heard him set the alarm, then finished prepping the walls while her mind replayed the incident on the mountain.
Please let them find out who that guy was.
Holt drove to the hospital, berating his cowardice the entire way. He’d managed to blow it yet again. He’d had the perfect opportunity to tell Penny about Zoe and he wimped out. Not that he hadn’t had business to take care of first and then things got a little crazy with the alarm installation. But he could have taken a few moments to fill her in.
He’d tell her next time he saw her. He found his partner sitting in a wheelchair, crutches across his knees and ready to go.
Marty scowled at him. “Took you long enough.”
“Dude, I got here when you said to be ready.”
“I know. I’m just itching to be gone from here.”
“Then let’s go.”
They loaded Marty into the passenger seat of Holt’s SUV, and Holt pulled away from the loading zone to head toward the hotel.
“How’s Gus?” Marty asked. “No one’s given me much of an update lately.”
“Last I heard, he was doing better. Still in a medically induced coma, but there was talk of bringing him out of it in the next couple of days.”
“Good. How’s Penny?”
Holt filled him in. At the hotel, Marty maneuvered himself into the room and settled on the couch with the crutches at his feet.
“You handle those like a pro,” Holt said. He set his laptop on the table and opened it.
“High school football injury. I told you about it. Was on crutches off and on for a year, thanks to surgeries.”
“I thought you were making that up because you run so slow.”
“Oh, please.”
Marty rolled his eyes and emotion grabbed Holt by the throat in an unexpected move. He gave a light punch to his friend’s arm. “I’m glad you’re okay, man.”
“Thanks. I am too.”
Holt positioned the laptop for the virtual conference meeting and logged in using the secure link. His SSA’s face filled the screen, and in smaller boxes, he noted several other members of the task force, including Richard Gaines, the RA for the Asheville office, as well as Lexie.
Her glasses sat on the tip of her nose, and she had her hair pulled up in a curly ponytail that looked like it had been shoved up in a hurry.
“All right, folks,” Gerald said, “first things first. Marty, glad to see you doing so well.”
“Thanks, Ger.”
“Second, the K-9 team searching the mountain—using the scent from the nurse’s uniform left in the car—found a blond wig. We assume this to be the one Rabor’s girlfriend has been wearing all this time—even on her visits to the prison. Only we suspect that the girlfriend wasn’t really a girlfriend. We suspect that the guy in the morgue has been using the female disguise in order to hide his look-alike features from cameras and the general public who know what Rabor looks like.”
“So, Lexie,” Holt said, “will you please fill us in on who the dead man in your morgue is?”
“Absolutely. His name is Joel Allen. He’s thirty-eight years old and shares the same birthday with Darius Rabor. Hospital records show they were actually born four minutes apart. Albeit in different hospitals, but kinda creepy if you ask me.” Sounds of agreement echoed through the speakers.
“Thanks, Lexie.”
“You’re very welcome. Let me know if you need anything else.”
She signed off and Gerald cleared his throat. “Allen’s DNA was in the system because of a prior arrest for shoplifting. He got off with a slap on the wrist and an order to behave himself.”
“Did he?” Richard asked.
“Looks like it. Or he was never caught if he didn’t. By all appearances, he’s been squeaky clean ever since.”
“Until a couple of days ago,” Holt said, “when he assisted Darius Rabor’s escape from the hospital and helped kill a few people in the process.”
“Yeah.” Marty’s anguish came through loud and clear.
“So, our next move is to find out all we can on Joel Allen,” Gerald said. “Track down his family, friends, church, cult, underground bunker. Whatever. I want to know everything God knows about this man.”
“We’re not that good,” Holt said, “but we’ll do everything possible and pray that God reveals what we need to know along the way.”
“Or that.” Gerald waved a hand. “Daria Nevsky is your analyst. Anything you need, send it her way. Holt, she’s already got Allen’s address pulled up and is sending it to you. I know you’ll want to go talk to his wife.”
“I will.” ASAP.
“We’re reviewing security footage and talking to the guards about Rabor’s visitors and who he was in touch with on the outside. It’s actually pretty unbelievable.”
Holt frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m getting there. His parents came once a month
like clockwork. He has a brother who’s never visited, and he had a bevy of thrill-seeking ladies who thought it would be exciting to ‘date’ a serial killer while he was behind bars. Rabor met with each and every one who was approved, which means he met with someone at least once or twice a week.”
“At his level of security? How is that possible?” Higher security warranted less visitation opportunities—or at least it was supposed to.
“Apparently, the warden made a little deal with Rabor. The better he behaved, the more visits he got. And they kept it all secret from the other inmates.”
Holt huffed an aggravated breath. “If the other inmates ever found out . . .”
“Talk about riots. I know.” Gerald heaved a sigh and rubbed his eyes. “But so far, no one’s said anything. Turns out the warden does this with a few of the other violent offenders as well. It’s some kind of experimental program that he got approval for.” He shrugged. “Gotta say, it seems to be working. Violent offenses in the prison have dropped by about fifty percent.”
“Okay, thanks. Good to know.”
“That’s all I’ve got. Richard?”
“We’re going strong on this end,” Richard said. “Rabor’s face will be back on the news tonight. We’ve got the hotline up and ready to take calls. We’ll work together and find this guy, preferably before he kills anyone else.”
Gerald leaned back in his chair. “All right, everyone, let’s go.”
Holt logged off and looked at Marty. “Sorry you have to sit this one out, partner.”
“Me too.”
The man scowled and Holt clapped him on the shoulder. “Your ride will be here soon.”
“Yeah.”
Holt gathered Marty’s items for him. He’d be off duty until cleared by his doctor to return. Hopefully they’d have Rabor in custody long before that happened. In the meantime, Holt and Grace would be working together. A fact that suited him just fine. She wasn’t Marty, but she was an excellent agent and he trusted her.
He checked his phone. His sister had called twice during the meeting. Once he was back in his SUV, he dialed Rachel’s number.
“Thank you for calling me back.”
“I was in a meeting. What’s up?”
“I have Zoe’s phone. I’ve been trying to get into it for two years and I did it.” She gave a breathless laugh that morphed into a sob. “I finally figured out her password and I got in.”
He frowned. “Okay.”
“Holt, I found a video that very clearly shows Owen and Zoe arguing the night he was shot.”
“What were they arguing about?”
“I’m not sure. The audio isn’t very good, but I think they were arguing about their housekeeper, Yvette. Zoe wanted her to go and Owen didn’t.”
“What?” He’d never heard Zoe and Owen fight. Had never once heard a cross word between the two of them. “And they were fighting over that?”
“It shook me, Holt. Seriously. I’ve never heard Owen sound like that before. Not in all the years he and Zoe were married. It’s rocked everything for me. Everything I thought about them.”
With dread curling in his gut, he swallowed. “Send it to me. I’ll watch it as soon as I get a chance.”
“And, there’s more.” Her voice hitched on a sob and he stiffened.
“What?”
“Ellie was there.”
“What? I thought she was next door spending the night with her neighbor friend.”
“I thought so, too, but you can see her reflection in the glass door that leads to the patio.”
“Well, that changes things. What does Ellie say?”
“That she doesn’t remember anything. She says she was never at the house, that she was at the sleepover.”
“I’m confused.”
“That makes two of us. We need to go see Zoe at the prison and find out if this will pry her tongue loose. Because she’s hiding something. Big-time.”
“Yeah. Okay. You’ve convinced me. I’ll get back to you soon.”
“I’ll be working on the visit.”
“Where’s the housekeeper?”
“I don’t know. I tried calling her, but her phone’s disconnected and she’s not at the address on her application.”
“Give me her name and everything you know about her. I’ll find her.” Or the local investigator who’d handled the case would. Homicide detective Matt Nixon. He and Holt had become friends in spite of the investigation that found his sister guilty of murder. Holt didn’t hold that against Matt. He hadn’t shot Owen. Zoe had.
“Of course.”
He hung up, his pulse pounding in confusion—and hope. If Ellie was there that night, it was possible, with help from a trained psychiatrist, she might be able to remember exactly what happened.
Then again, it might be more merciful to let her keep that night buried. But what about Zoe? What if she really didn’t shoot Owen?
He’d wait for Rachel to get the video to him and then decide what to do about it.
With a conflicted heart, Holt aimed his vehicle toward the address Daria had texted him. He was very anxious to meet with Sally Allen, Joel’s wife, because he desperately needed a lead on Rabor—and at the moment, she was their only hope.
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
Penny jolted awake, heart racing, blood chilled, a tune playing in her head. His tune. Nausea swirled and she had to take several breaths before she could convince herself that she was safe.
She’d fallen asleep on the couch after showering off the dust and sweat left from her physical afternoon. She lay there for a moment, letting the tune run through her mind once more. She knew the song, so why couldn’t she name the title?
“Argh.” She threw the blanket off and stood. The lamp she’d left on was now off. Okay.
Penny grabbed her cell phone and darted into the kitchen to find the oven clock blank. No green numbers glowed the time.
“Power’s off,” she muttered. “Why?” A glance out the window revealed no storm, rain, or snow, so . . . what was the deal?
Her stomach twisted even as her eyes found the alarm keypad on the wall. The backup battery had kicked in and the system was still armed. Her pulse slowed slightly. No one was in her house this time, simply because there was no way in without setting off the ear-splitting screech.
Rubbing her chilled arms, she walked back into the den. “I’m getting a dog.” She paused. “No, I’m going back to work. Anything’s got to be better than this.” She’d call Dr. Kirkpatrick in the morning and request to finish her shift.
Once she’d called the power company and was assured someone would look into her outage, she turned on the gas logs, fixed herself a cup of hot tea on the gas stove, and settled back onto the couch to watch the flames flicker and dance.
When her phone buzzed, she jumped, nearly spilling her tea. “Good grief. Get a grip, Pen.” She set the cup and saucer on the end table and swiped the screen. “Hi, Holt.”
“Penny, you okay? You sound a bit breathless.”
“I’m fine.” She wasn’t going to cry on his shoulder. Again. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to check on you.”
“Well, my power’s out, but other than that, I’m all right.”
“Why’s your power out?”
“No idea, but I’m safe inside with my new little alarm system, still nicely armed thanks to the backup battery, so I feel safe.”
“Oookay.” He drew the word out. “I’m not sure I like that.”
“Well, it happens sometimes. Hopefully, it’ll be back on shortly. Now, fill me in on what you can.”
“We have the identity of the John Doe. We’re going to pay a visit to his wife.”
“Now?”
“Yeah, she lives about fifteen minutes up the mountain.”
Penny hesitated, then sighed. “Do you think I could go with you? I feel like I should . . . apologize or something.”
“Penny—”
“I know, I kno
w. I have nothing to apologize for, but I just—”
A knock on her door stilled her.
“Penny?”
“Someone’s at my front door.”
“Who?”
“I have no idea. But if it’s that blasted reporter, I may have to hurt him.”
“I’ll stay on the phone with you while you check.”
Penny didn’t argue. She walked to the front. “Who’s there?”
Silence.
Her heart rate kicked it up a notch.
“Penny? Talk to me.”
She stood to the side of the window and peered out. “No one’s there.”
“This scenario does not make me happy.”
“I can relate. Makes me wish I lived in a neighborhood right now.” Okay, she was nervous. Her pulse pounded and her hands shook. No, she wasn’t nervous, she was scared. Her jaw tightened. She hated being scared. Loathed the feeling. “What do I do, Holt?”
“Stay on the line. I’m headed that way.”
“You can’t keep coming to my rescue.”
“Why not?”
“Because—”
“Yeah? I’m listening.”
Penny moved into her kitchen. She heard his car door shut and the engine start. “Because you have a job to do.”
“You’re a part of that job right now, so I’m not seeing what the problem is.”
She started to smile, then frowned. Was that movement in her backyard?
“So, have you gotten that dining room painted yet?” he asked. “I’m three minutes away.”
“Not yet. It’s on the list.” Another flicker of motion in the backyard that was gone so fast she wasn’t sure it was ever there. Her imagination? But someone had knocked on the door. For what? To get her outside?
“Penny?”
She appreciated what he was doing. Keeping her talking was keeping her calm.
At least it was until the alarm screeched its warning.
When the alarm sounded, Holt flinched. “Penny?”
She didn’t answer, but he wasn’t sure if that was because something had happened to her or because she simply couldn’t hear him over the wail of the racket. “Penny!”
He was only about a minute away from her and it felt like two hours. Finally, he pulled up to her house. The alarm was still sending out its piercing shrieks. Holt pulled his gun and aimed himself for the front door. “Penny!”
Life Flight Page 12
