by Mary Alford
Sleep called out to her. She needed it more than anything, but whenever she closed her eyes for any length of time she saw those eyes. The same as Peter Atkins’s.
All she could think about was that too much time had passed since she’d escaped the madman’s grasp. Would they find Lily’s mother alive?
“Maybe I will close my eyes for a second,” Catherine finally said, and curled up in an overstuffed chair in the corner of the room. “If they find out anything you’ll let me know?”
“I will,” he promised. “You just rest. Lily and I are going to play with these toys until she gets sleepy.”
With a smile, she closed her eyes. Slowly relaxed. The noises around her faded.
“You kept that doll all these years?” the woman asked in wonder, her face a mirror image of Catherine’s.
“I did. It was ours once. You loved it, remember? Lily will, too.”
“You’re right. She will. I hated having to leave it behind.”
“Well, now you can play with it whenever Lily is not.” She giggled and hugged the woman tightly. Elizabeth. Her name was Elizabeth. “I’ve missed you,” she said. Such a long time had passed since they’d been together.
“I missed you, too. It’s been hard...” She stopped, and Catherine was sure she was keeping something secret. “It’s just me and Lily now, with Douglas gone. I’m glad you came.” Elizabeth’s smile faded. “After what happened with John last year, you needed a break from the gossips around the community.”
A noise outside pulled Catherine’s attention away from the conversation. The door burst open. He filled the door frame. Elizabeth ran toward the room where Lily slept. The man jabbed something in her neck. She never reached her daughter. Catherine tried to fight off the inevitable, but he was too strong for her. Darkness was immediate. She awoke in the basement. To him. And to Elizabeth’s screams.
Her eyes shot open. Perspiration beaded her forehead as she sat up quickly, the blanket Sutter had placed over her falling to the floor.
He rushed to her side. “What is it?” The concern on his face was well warranted.
“I know who she is. The woman he took with me. I know her name. It’s Elizabeth.” Catherine’s frightened eyes latched on to Sutter’s. “She’s my sister. My twin sister.”
* * *
“James, come quick. Catherine’s remembered something about Lily’s mother,” Sutter announced to his partner, who’d been talking quietly with Janine.
Both returned with him to the office, where Catherine cradled Lily close, rocking her and murmuring soothing words. She recounted the memory for them.
“And you’re positive she’s your twin sister?” James asked. Sutter understood his partner’s doubts. The closet in the room where Elizabeth and the child had slept held no Amish clothing. He voiced his concerns.
“Yes, she is my sister.” Catherine straightened her back and addressed James. “I can’t explain the clothing, but I’m sure there is an explanation.” She smoothed Lily’s hair away from her face and told James about changing into Elizabeth’s clothing before the attack. She shrugged. “We were playing around.”
Sutter noticed again how closely Catherine resembled Lily. “It makes sense. Lily looks just like you.”
“The baby is sleeping.” Janine motioned to Lily. “Let me put her down.” The older woman lifted the sleeping child from Catherine’s arms and carried her to the cot in the other corner of the room.
James watched her tuck the child in bed. “We should take this into the conference room so we don’t wake Lily.”
“You’re right.” Sawyer rose and extended his hand to Catherine. She hesitated, not wanting to leave Lily. “She’ll be okay. We’re right down the hall. If she calls out, we can hear her.”
“I’ll stay with her for a bit. Go, get some coffee. Stretch your legs,” Janine told her.
Catherine smiled at the dispatcher. “Thank you.” She followed the men into the conference room and pulled out a chair, while Sutter poured coffee and then handed her a cup.
The station was quiet at this time. The two deputies on duty were out on a call. Megan and Cole remained at the house guarded by several Sanders County deputies. Sheriff Collins was busy trying to get a warrant to search Peter Atkins’s car and house. Both DCI agents were still processing the Robbins house.
Catherine rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I don’t think Elizabeth is still married,” she said unexpectedly. She took a sip of coffee and ran her finger around the rim of the cup. “Her husband died.”
More of her memories were coming back. Sutter tried to rein in his excitement. They were still a long way from unraveling the identity of the killer. “Do you think it’s possible Elizabeth had left the faith?”
Catherine considered the possibility and lifted her shoulders. “I don’t know. I suppose it would make the most sense.”
So if Elizabeth was no longer Amish, she could have been living anywhere. “Did she tell you how her husband passed away?”
She didn’t hesitate. “It was a car accident.”
Sutter considered this new information. If they could pinpoint when Elizabeth’s husband had died, perhaps there’d be something in the news about it.
“Do you remember her mentioning when the accident occurred?”
She searched for an answer that didn’t come. “I don’t, but I think it was recent. Her husband’s name was Douglas. I remember that.”
“So, assuming Elizabeth and her husband lived in the state of Montana, we can check around for car fatalities over the past six months or so,” James said.
She tried to smile. “I’m sorry. I wish I could remember more.”
“The blanks will fill in. It’s only a matter of time,” Sutter assured her.
As he looked at her pretty face, the case and its secrets faded from his head. It was as if he was just noticing the freckles across her nose for the first time, the way her dark hair framed her cheeks beneath the bonnet. Face free of makeup, Catherine was beautiful inside and out.
She swallowed visibly and dropped her gaze. “Do we know anything more about Peter Atkins?” she asked, her voice shaky.
Sutter pulled in a breath and strove for a calm he didn’t feel. “According to Sheriff Collins, he’s lived in Eagle’s Nest most of his life. He’s never been in trouble with the law and, he’s lived a quiet life.”
Footsteps approached the conference room. Sutter turned to see the sheriff enter, and explained about Catherine’s latest memories. “Did you get the warrant?” he asked.
The sheriff poured himself some coffee. “I think we should have it soon.”
Somewhere in the building a door opened. A few minutes later a man peered into the room.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’m looking for Janine. She’s not at her desk.”
“Hey, Howard. Janine’s in my office,” Sheriff Collins told him.
“Thanks. I wanted to stop by and make sure she gets home safely.” Howard waved and moved on down the hall.
“The whole town’s on edge. I’ve never seen anything like this.” The sheriff shook his head. “Stores are closing early. Last Sunday the evening church service was canceled. We need to catch his guy and soon so we can give our residents some peace of mind.”
Sutter couldn’t imagine the flack the sheriff must be getting.
Janine and Howard stopped by. “If it’s okay with you, I’ll head out now,” the dispatcher said. “Bernie should be here soon. Lily is sleeping peacefully. I think she’s down for the count,” she assured Catherine.
Sheriff Collins nodded. “Go ahead. You and Howard have a good evening. Stay warm.”
After the older couple left, a thought occurred to Sutter. “What about Melissa Holt’s family? Do they still live in the area?” Maybe they could shed some light on what was happening in Melissa’s
life before her capture.
James picked up his line of thought. “You’re thinking they might know if Melissa ever came in contact with Atkins?”
“Exactly. If Atkins is the killer, and we can tie him to the first victim, it would certainly help with the sheriff’s warrant.”
Even though there were many similarities between Melissa Holt’s death and that of the current victims, the lawmen were a long way from confirming she was the Dead of Night Killer’s first victim, or that Atkins was the perp. So far, everything in Sutter’s gut said Adkins wasn’t the killer.
“I’m going to grab my laptop from the car and see if I can come up with anything,” James said, and headed for the door. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
After he left, Sheriff Collins said, “Howard would probably know if the family is still around. He’s lived in Eagle’s Nest all his life. The rest of us came along after the murder occurred. I’ll see if I can catch him before he leaves.” The sheriff excused himself.
Catherine rose. “I want to check on Lily.”
Sutter understood her worry. The child had suffered enough. “I’ll go with you,” he said. They’d taken only a few steps when a scream coming from the sheriff’s office broke the silence.
Lily!
Sutter pushed Catherine back toward the conference room. “Go inside. I’ll check on Lily.” She hesitated. “Go, Catherine.” She hurried back into the room while he drew his weapon and entered the office. The room appeared empty, except for Lily, who was sitting up in bed and screaming at the top of her lungs.
Sutter holstered his weapon and started toward the little girl. He’d taken only a few steps when something hard slammed into his back. He dropped to his knees. Another blow struck him in the side. The air left his body in a whoosh and he fell forward. Lily continued to scream. He tried to reach her, but moving was difficult.
“It’s okay,” he murmured, as a far more disturbing sound came from somewhere in the station. A gunshot.
Catherine. He forced himself to his knees. Clutching the sofa, he managed to stand.
“Lily, I need you to play hide-and-seek.” He scooped the child into his arms and stuck her behind Sheriff Collins’s desk. “Stay here and don’t move until I find you, okay?” The little girl’s frightened face blurred before him and he struggled to pull it together. Sutter hated to leave the child alone, but Catherine was in danger. Closing the door, he stumbled toward the conference room.
Alarm crawled up his spine when he saw it was empty. The killer had taken Catherine.
Sutter raced down the hall to the front of the station. The door to the main street stood open. He stepped out and glanced around.
“Catherine!” he called out, while trying to hold on to the hope that she’d found a hiding place inside.
The sheriff and James rounded the corner of the building. “What happened?” Sheriff Collins asked. “Someone locked the back door.”
“He has Catherine,” Sutter told them. “But they can’t have gotten far.” After running out into the vacant street, he pivoted 360 degrees. She was nowhere in sight. Panic set in as he scanned the dark corners and found nothing. If they didn’t find her soon, Catherine would join the growing list of victims of the Dead of Night Killer.
ELEVEN
From somewhere behind, Sutter called her name, but she didn’t dare stop. The killer was almost on top of her and he had a gun. She crossed the street at a frantic pace and headed for the small alley between the diner and hardware store. Like before, she heard his heavy breathing coming up fast.
“There! I see her.” Sutter! Please hurry!
Dark shadows enveloped her. She was shoved from behind and landed hard on her knees.
Cold metal was pressed against her temple. She squeezed her eyes shut.
Beyond the sound of her own breathing, a shot rang out. She jerked away, expecting pain. The end. Yet nothing happened.
Catherine screamed as multiple shots exploded all around her. She covered her head and curled up into a tiny ball as the killer ran on past.
“I see him up ahead. He’s getting away.” She recognized the sheriff’s voice.
The killer stopped at the corner of the building and fired again. Then silence settled around her. All she could hear was her own pulse pounding in her ears.
Someone knelt near her and touched her arm. She tried to defend herself.
“Catherine it’s me.” Sutter secured her flaying hands. When she heard his voice, she threw her arms around his neck and held him tightly.
“I was so afraid he would kill me,” she sobbed, her voice cracking.
“You’re safe now.” Sutter held her close while she tried to calm her ballistic heart.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sutter asked, clearly not convinced from her terrified reaction.
“I’m fine,” she said. “I saw him coming and ran, but he shot at me.” She shuddered as she recalled the nightmare. She could still feel the cold metal of the gun barrel against her temple. “He heard you coming and took off.” A few minutes later and Catherine was positive she would have been dead.
Sutter helped her to her feet. “Let’s get you back to the station.” With his arm around her waist, he tucked her against his side. His warmth helped ease the chill from her body.
They reached the street again, but before they had a chance to cross it a car approached from the right at a crawl. Sutter pulled her back into the shadows as it eased by. The vehicle was familiar. The driver had the window rolled down and she recognized him right away. Peter Atkins.
“That’s the same man from earlier,” she exclaimed, unable to believe what she was seeing.
Sheriff Collins and James caught up with them. “We didn’t see any sign of him,” the sheriff announced. “I’m guessing he circled to the main road and hightailed it on across the street.”
“Maybe not.” Sutter pointed to the fading taillights. “That’s Peter Atkins. It’s a pretty big coincidence he’s here at the same time as the killer.”
Sheriff Collins stared up the street for a moment. “Too big. I’m going after him.”
“You’ll need backup,” James said, and the two men took off after the car.
Catherine still couldn’t believe what had happened.
“If it’s him, he isn’t afraid of getting caught.” The doubt in Sutter’s tone assured her he wasn’t convinced Atkins was the killer.
She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk as a different flashback occurred. She remembered something from before she’d escaped the basement. With everything that had happened that night, she’d forgotten, but she’d gotten a good look at his arm before he’d pulled the blindfold back over her eyes.
“What is it?” Sutter asked, frowning.
“He has a mark on his left arm. A birthmark.” She pointed to the spot on her own arm and tried to recall the image. “It was red and oval in shape. About the size of a grape.”
Sutter processed the information. “I’ll let Sheriff Collins know. We should go. I left Lily alone, hiding behind the sheriff’s desk. She must be terrified by now.”
“Poor Lily.” Catherine rushed back to the station and on into the sheriff’s office.
She could hear the little girl crying from her hiding spot. Catherine sank to her knees there and gathered her close.
“Shh,” she said soothingly. Lifting her into her arms, she carried Lily to the chair.
Lily clung to Catherine, her tiny body quaking uncontrollably. She’d been through so much. Lily needed this to end quickly.
“She’s experienced more than anyone deserves to go through,” Sutter said from the doorway. “Especially someone so young.” The sadness on his face made Catherine wonder if he might be thinking about his own tragic past.
He pulled up a chair next to her and watched her rock Lily.
“Hi
s death isn’t your fault, Sutter.” She searched his face, saw the pain he couldn’t hide.
He closed his eyes briefly. “I let him down. All he wanted was for me to go hunting with him and I couldn’t be bothered.”
“Sutter...” His name slipped out in a whisper. “If you don’t find a way to forgive yourself, you will be living in the past for the rest of your life. Unable to move forward. Unable to live. You’re a gut man. You deserve to be happy.”
He reached for her hand and gathered it in his, changing the subject. “You have no idea how strong you are. After everything you’ve been through, you still have the ability to see good in people who don’t deserve it.”
“You are good,” she insisted, holding his gaze. Something shifted in his eyes, and she couldn’t look away. The world around her evaporated. She pulled in a breath. Wished for...
Someone knocked on the station door, and the moment passed.
With regret in his eyes, he stood. “Stay here with Lily,” he said, his voice raspy. Sutter took two steps, then turned back to her. “Did you recognize Atkins’s voice?” he asked, his question coming as a surprise to her. “You said the killer was arguing with someone when you got away. Did the voice match Atkins?”
It didn’t. The more she thought about it the surer she became. “No, his voice was deeper. Unless he somehow managed to disguise it, I don’t think Atkins is the killer.”
With one final searching look, he said, “I’m not convinced he’s the killer, either. Still, we have to check him out. Right now, he’s all we got.” With a sad smile, he closed the door and headed toward the front of the station.
Which meant they had nothing.
Catherine glanced down at the child in her arms and realized Lily had cried herself to sleep. She cradled her niece close and prayed Gott would bring Elizabeth home safely, for everyone’s sake.
Minutes ticked by, then Sutter returned. “Sheriff Collins and James brought in Atkins. We’re about to interview him. He may not be the killer, but he’s hiding something. Maybe he knows who the killer is. Are you okay by yourself for a while?”
