by Mary Alford
Rachel slipped into the second rocker, while Katie kept a careful eye on her new friend.
Sutter smiled in thanks when Noah brought over his coffee.
“They’ve both been through so much,” Noah murmured, as he followed Sutter’s gaze.
“Yes.” Something in Noah’s tone made him turn. The wisdom in the other man’s eyes assured him Noah had seen his moment of weakness. “Let’s hope this ends soon for both their sakes.”
Noah didn’t respond and Sutter was grateful for the interruption of his phone just then. He moved to the window to take the call. James’s number appeared on his screen.
“Have you been able to identify the victim?” Sutter kept his voice low, though he had no doubt Catherine was listening to every word.
“Yes, we did.” The strain in James’s voice was clear. “The victim is a twenty-one-year-old woman by the name of Barbara Wagler. She’s Amish, Sutter.” Shock settled in Sutter. Was this some sort of shift in the killer’s MO, or was he making a point?
“Apparently, the victim was visiting her aunt, who wasn’t feeling well. She’d spent the previous night with her. Barbara’s parents weren’t expecting her home until tomorrow.”
Sutter blew out a weighted breath. He couldn’t imagine the heartbreak the parents were going through. “How long had she been missing?”
“Not long. Perhaps a few hours. The sheriff recognized her right away. He’d seen her around the community, and he knows her parents. I rode with him to deliver the news.” James stopped and drew in an audible breath. Sutter understood how difficult it was to tell the parents of a young woman their daughter was the latest victim of the Dead of Night Killer.
“I imagine it was hard.” A disturbing thought occurred. “So where is Catherine’s sister?” Sutter squeezed his eyes shut as fear slithered down into the pit of his stomach. There was something more coming; he sensed it from the way James hesitated. “Just tell me,” he finally said.
James cleared his throat. “There’s something different about this murder.”
“Besides the fact that he killed an Amish woman?”
“Yes.” James’s one-word response was baffling.
“What is it?” Sutter’s patience stretched thin.
“She was shot at point-blank range like the other victims, but the note’s different. This one’s more personal. And it’s directed to Catherine.”
Sutter swung toward the woman in question.
“What’d it say?” he asked, as their eyes connected. He prayed he wasn’t giving too much away.
“‘This is because of you, Catherine. You can’t hide forever. I will find you again, and when I do, I’ll make you pay.’”
Sutter froze, then grunted. “His rage is escalating. He’s frustrated that Catherine escaped. The time between taking victims is getting shorter.” Sutter blew out a breath. “I still don’t understand what he’s doing with the sister.” He didn’t want to say it aloud, but by now, if the killer kept true to his MO, Elizabeth should be dead.
“There’s more,” James said slowly. “He left a photo on the body. It was taken from one of those instant cameras. The room’s pretty dim, but it shows a dark-haired woman with the same blue eyes as Catherine.”
Sutter’s heart stuttered at the news. “Is she...?” He couldn’t finish.
“No, but she’s in pretty bad shape, and definitely Catherine’s sister. I thought if Catherine could see the photo, it might bring back some memories from her past and help us to identify her. I don’t think it’s wise for me to come to you, in case this guy is watching our activity. We’re still not sure if he’s bought the decoy, and the photo is too grainy to text. Do you think I could meet you both somewhere?”
A relieved breath left his body in a sigh. “Of course. Best to wait until daylight, and I think it might be a good idea to use the Warrens’ buggy. Maybe try to disguise both our appearances somewhat.”
Sutter lowered his head. He could not have felt more discouraged. “We’ve been acting under the impression that Catherine was the original target, but what if we’re wrong? What if the suspect wanted Elizabeth all along and Catherine was just there?”
A lengthy silence followed. “Then we’d better find Elizabeth soon, because he won’t keep her alive much longer.”
With that alarming reminder hanging between them, Sutter asked, “Is there any news from Ryan?” He hoped at least to be able to give Catherine some positive about her family.
“Some. He checked in with the bishop at the Libby community, showing the photo you took of Catherine. The bishop did not recognize her. Ryan’s on his way to the community near Saint Ignatius now. Sheriff Collins told him to call as soon as has news.”
It felt as if at every turn the leads they thought would produce Catherine’s identity ended in nothing. “What about Atkins’s house?”
James sighed. “The sheriff and I had just finished searching his house when the call came in about the latest victim. Atkins has a basement. It kind of fit the description Catherine gave us, although there was no sign of Elizabeth. No rope. But he could have removed it. He has a dog. A lot of people living out in the country do, though. Trevor swabbed the blood in the trunk. He’ll get a sample from Atkins to see if his story about a nosebleed holds true. Once they’re finished here, we’ll have the crime scene team head to Atkins’s house.” James paused while Sutter ran the timeline in his head.
Atkins would have had to take the woman in broad daylight, after Sutter and Catherine ran into him. Then he’d have to kill her and leave her body at the playground before he entered the station and came after Catherine. It didn’t add up.
“He’s not our guy,” Sutter said.
“No. We had to release him. Not enough evidence to hold him. Oh, before I forget, Sheriff Collins spoke with Howard about Melissa Holt’s family. According to him, they moved away soon after her murder. I’m guessing they wanted to put the whole thing behind them.”
Against his will, Sutter recalled how life-changing his brother’s murder had been. Not knowing who was responsible made it impossible to find any measure of closure.
“The sheriff has Bernie trying to locate anyone who was friends with Melissa back then. Hopefully, we can find a connection there. I wish I had better news. I feel terrible for Barbara’s family, but I’m glad for Catherine’s benefit that it wasn’t her sister. Is that wrong?”
Sutter felt the same way. “No. I’m glad it wasn’t Elizabeth, too. I don’t want Lily to lose her mother.”
“Me, either. Get some rest, partner. You sound tired. I’ll text you with the best location to meet tomorrow.”
Sutter ended the call and pulled in a breath.
With Lily sleeping, Catherine laid the child down and came over. Sutter waited until Rachel took Katie into the kitchen before he told Catherine the news. He kept the information in the note to himself because he didn’t want her to blame herself for Barbara Wagler’s death.
Catherine fisted her hands at her sides. “I don’t think I can bear it if she dies.” The words were a mere whisper, while tears swam in her eyes.
Sutter drew her into his arms and held her close. More than anything, he wanted to protect her. She’d become important to him. “For now, we believe Elizabeth is still alive. That’s something.”
She gently touched his cheek, a searching look in her eyes. Did she sense his feelings toward her changing? He couldn’t to give into this weakness. They had a killer to catch.
Sutter cleared his throat and stepped back. He saw the rejection she experienced at his action before she could hide it.
“James will meet us in the morning so you can look at the photo,” he said, his voice sounding strained. He’d hurt her and that was never his intention. “It’s late. You should try to get some sleep,” he added, when she didn’t speak.
Catherine managed a nod.
“I’ll carry Lily to the bed for you.” He stepped past her without another word, hating this awkwardness between them, and lifted the child into his arms.
“I don’t think I can sleep in here,” she murmured and turned to him, her eyes pleading. He couldn’t blame her. Waking up to find the killer standing just outside the window, watching her, had to have been terrifying.
Sutter glanced at Noah, who stood nearby with his wife. “Can we move the mattress into the living room and close to the fire for Catherine and Lily?”
“Ja, I will help you move it,” Noah confirmed.
Sutter carefully handed Lily off to Catherine, and he and Noah went to the bedroom and carried out the mattress.
Shoving the sofa against the far wall, they moved the two rockers out of the way, then placed the mattress on the floor near the fire.
Once the bedding was in place, he laid the sleeping child on the mattress. “You and Lily should be warm enough here, and I’ll be right over there if you need anything during the night.”
“Denki,” she murmured, without looking at him, her voice reflecting strain. The uneasiness from earlier stood between them and he didn’t know how to make it go away. Perhaps it was best this way. He’d lost his focus before. He couldn’t let that happen again.
Sutter forced a smile. “Sleep well, Catherine.”
As the household settled in for the evening, all he could think about was how much he wished they’d met under different circumstances. At a different time. Being near her these past few days had made him realize how empty his life was. He wanted something more than a job to fill his days. He wanted to share his life with someone. Someone like Catherine.
* * *
Sutter shot up from the sofa out of a sound sleep and listened while trying not to wake Catherine and Lily. Outside, a flash of light appeared through the curtains.
A wisp of a sound behind him sent him whirling. Catherine had awakened.
“I heard something,” she said, her eyes large and fearful as she glanced back at the sleeping child.
Nearby, a door creaked. Noah stepped into the room along with Rachel, who was holding her sleeping daughter.
“There’s a small fire burning near the porch! It looks as if someone has piled up some brush and lit it.” Noah pointed to the window.
“Catherine, take Lily, and you and Rachel go to the dawdi haus and lock the door. Stay there until I come get you. If the fire spreads, use the outside door and run for the woods. I’ll find you.” Sutter clutched her arms and drew her away from the window.
She hesitated, as if mesmerized by the light.
“Go, Catherine. And stay away from the windows.”
With a little push from Sutter, she hurried after Rachel and Katie.
“That was set deliberately,” Noah said, keeping his attention on the blaze.
There was no doubt in Sutter’s mind. The clock on his phone indicated it was just before dawn. He called his partner. “Send help.” He explained what little he knew.
“Sheriff Collins and I are responding. Stay safe and don’t engage this guy,” James warned.
Sutter ended the call. “Lock the door behind me,” he told Noah, and checked the magazine in his Glock.
“He could be waiting to ambush you. You should wait for backup.” But Sutter couldn’t let the killer get away if there was a chance of catching him.
“I’m aware. I’ll be careful.” He eased out the door. It closed behind him. Near the porch, a small fire burned in the yard. The snowy ground kept the blaze from spreading. Sutter clicked on his flashlight and shone it around the dark countryside. Nothing moved. Yet there was no doubt in his mind the villain had been here recently, which solidified the truth. Peter Atkins was not the Dead of Night Killer.
It took several tries to stomp the blaze out with his boot.
As he flashed the light around the smoldering mess, what he saw there filled him with dread—a slip of folded red paper. Opening the note, Sutter read the letters pasted there: “You’re next, Catherine. No one gets away from me and lives. Not Elizabeth. Not you. Not her.”
Not her?
Was the killer talking about Lily?
Before the thought took hold, a noise in front of him snatched his attention. Sutter extinguished the flashlight app and darkness descended in a blink. Then a light sparked—a muzzle flash—and hot pain tore through his shoulder as a bullet pierced his jacket, shirt and skin. Its impact knocked him to the ground.
Before he could right himself, the killer’s masked face appeared above him. One foot stomped on Sutter’s right hand, which was holding the weapon. He leaned down and placed the barrel of the gun against Sutter’s chest.
The front door opened and the killer’s attention swung that way. When a shotgun blast split the air, he ducked down, avoiding the kill shot, then he ran toward the woods.
Freed, Sutter raised the Glock and aimed at the retreating man, emptying his magazine into the night. No sound followed. He’d missed entirely.
Noah flew down the steps and hauled Sutter to his feet.
“We need to get inside. Now.” Noah half carried him into the house and locked the door.
Sutter stared at the wound in his shoulder, where the bullet had peeled away flesh, and realized the man would stop at nothing to get to Catherine. And Sutter wasn’t sure if it was simply to silence her, or because she’d dared to escape the Dead of Night Killer’s gruesome game.
THIRTEEN
Catherine climbed up onto the buggy seat beside Sutter, and he urged the mare down the path.
With the attack from earlier still fresh in her thoughts, she was more worried about Sutter than ever. He’d come close to dying. If it hadn’t been for Noah... The killer wasn’t letting up and she’d put so many lives in danger. When would it all end?
“I’m okay,” he assured her again, standing strong as he had earlier. “I promise it barely hurts.”
Catherine willed herself to relax. The frosty morning chilled her breath and she tried not to think about what might have happened had Noah not been armed.
With Sutter dressed in borrowed Amish clothing, his chestnut hair and tanned skin set off by the dark blue of his shirt, she was made aware of him in so many ways. His broadfall pants and suspenders, plus the black felt hat snugged low on his forehead, taunted her with what would never be.
Catherine wrapped her cloak tight to ward off the chill of the early morning. To anyone passing by, they’d appear an average Amish couple heading down the lane path to town. Yet there was nothing normal about where they were heading: to an abandoned barn outside Eagle’s Nest. Sutter had warned her the photo of Elizabeth showed she was in bad shape.
“So far, there doesn’t appear to be anyone out on the road this morning.” His smile sped up her heartbeat. The strain between them from the evening before was gone for the moment.
Catherine wanted to ask him about the note the killer left behind. She’d seen him put it in an evidence bag the night before. He’d tucked it inside his jacket pocket. For some reason, he hadn’t wanted to share the contents with her, and her mind had conjured up all sorts of horrible reasons.
With a new day barely in the works, the sun painted the partially cloud-covered sky pink. The mountains jutted up against it like giants in the distance.
She’d left Lily happily playing with Katie. Catherine hoped spending time with the little girl would take Lily’s mind off her mamm.
Sutter glanced her way. “How are you holding up?” he asked. Even after almost being killed, he was worried about her.
She met his gaze. “Oke.” Yet the truth was she’d never felt so scared and mixed up inside. Sutter was the only one who made her feel safe. Cared for.
“I know this is hard for you, but we’ll figure it out together.” He brushed his hand across her cheek, and she swallowed. Holding back her re
action was impossible. Her feelings for Sutter were changing.
As she watched him, his expression sobered. He said her name, his voice rough with unexpressed feelings. He was going to kiss her, and she could think of nothing she wanted more.
Just a breath away from him, she witnessed all his emotions before he pressed his lips to hers.
A soft sigh escaped and then she kissed him back. Cupping his face with her hands, Catherine lost herself in his touch. For a moment, the fear faded. She could almost forget there was no future for them.
He ended the kiss and rested his forehead against hers. A tender moment she wished would not end.
A sound behind them broke them apart. The engine of an approaching car. Sutter craned his neck.
“You should get in back.”
With his help, she climbed over the seat and tucked herself out of sight.
“Hang on, the road’s a bit slippery,” Sutter warned, as he slowed the mare’s speed. Catherine couldn’t see anything from where she sat.
“The car is hanging way back even though we’re creeping along. I don’t like it. We can’t afford to lead him to our meeting site. I’m going to pull over and let him pass, then call in backup.”
He eased the buggy onto the shoulder of the road. Without warning, the car picked up speed and flew past them.
“Now he’s going way too fast,” Catherine said, as the car race down the road. “Did you get a good look at the driver?”
“Whoa, mare.” Sutter pulled on the reins hard to keep the horse from bolting. Once he managed to calm the animal, he pulled out his cell phone. “He had on a ski mask. I’m calling in the license plate now.”
As the car disappeared from sight, all Catherine could think about was that if it was the killer, then he hadn’t believed that Megan and Cole were them.
“Sheriff, we just had a strange encounter,” Sutter explained, before giving the sheriff the plate number. “Call me as soon as you identify the owner.”
“What if he comes back?” Catherine focused on the winding road ahead. So far, no sign of the car.
