by Herron, Rita
Gia and Murphy both ordered the morning special, then Arlene hurried away.
Bubba’s hand went to his cell phone. “I’ll start making calls.”
“Tell everyone to contact my deputy,” Murphy said. “He’s in charge of organizing the search parties, establishing search grids and assigning teams for each area.”
Bubba gave a quick nod, then headed toward the kitchen, already punching in contacts on his cell phone.
Gia had once hated living in this small town where everyone knew everyone’s business. But at the moment, she remembered how nice it was when someone was in trouble. Everyone pitched in to help however they could.
She and Murphy needed all the help they could get.
“I’ll call our local news anchor.” Murphy headed toward the hall leading to the men’s room.
Gia checked her phone for messages. Nothing from Brantley or the killer. She called Brantley’s number and sipped her coffee while she waited.
He answered a minute later. “Any news on your sister?”
Gia blotted up sweetener from the packet she’d spilled on the table. Anything to distract herself. “No. But I have a name I want you to check out. Dr. Parker Whitman.”
“Who is he?”
“He came to Tinley a couple of weeks ago, right after we aired the story that we were dealing with a serial. Sheriff Malone says he met Carly when he was in town.”
“Do you have a picture?”
“No, but I’ll see if I can obtain one.” She wound her ponytail around her fingers. “Anyway, he claimed he was a vet and was looking for space to open a clinic. Sheriff called him to ask if he’d seen Carly, but he said he was headed out of town to visit family. I found a business card with a phone number, and the sheriff talked to him on a cell, but he’s not answering now. I need you to find out everything and anything you can on the man.”
“What makes you think he’s our perp?” Brantley asked.
“I don’t know if he is.” Frustration edged her words. “But at the moment, we have to consider every possibility. The timing of his appearance in Tinley, his short visits, and now his disappearance seem too coincidental to ignore.”
“I’m on it. Text me the numbers and I’ll see what I can dig up. And if you find a photo, that would be the bomb.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Although if this man was the Christmas Killer, he most likely wouldn’t have allowed himself to be caught on camera anywhere in town.
Not that the people in Tinley had security cameras anyway. They were all so trusting. She’d learned not to trust on the job a long time ago.
A violent wind burst practically shook the café. “Call or text me whether you find anything or not. And if you can’t reach me, contact the local sheriff’s office here. This blizzard is on top of us. We might lose power and cell service today.”
“Will do. If you need anything else, just let me know.”
“The only thing I need is to find Carly,” Gia said, her voice a pained whisper.
He murmured that he understood and hung up, and Gia looked up to see more families entering the restaurant and grill. All were bundled up, some laughing about the impending storm, others grousing about the biting wind and how this wasn’t their idea of spending Christmas in Tinsel Town.
Anger blended with panic and a helpless feeling that she hated more than anything. Struggling to control her emotions, she replayed the half dozen messages Carly had left her earlier in the week. Each time Carly had begged her to come home.
But she’d ignored them.
Guilt robbed her breath. If she’d been here, she could have prevented her sister from being taken. And tonight they’d be trimming the tree together instead of Carly fighting for her life.
Unless she was already dead.
Chapter Twelve
7:00 a.m., December 19, Tinley
When Murphy phoned the local news station, he asked for Clarissa Klondike, the lead anchorwoman.
“Morning, Sheriff.”
He wished he could say it was a good one. “Hi, Clarissa. We need to talk.”
“You have five minutes,” she said. Noise echoed in the background. Voices. People moving around. “The storm is speeding toward us, and I’ve got everyone on deck working to cover it.”
“This is important, another big story,” he said. “I need your help.”
“Hang on, let me shut my door.” A second later, the noise died down. “Okay, this sounds serious. What’s up?”
“One of our residents, Carly Franklin, is missing.”
A heartbeat of silence. “You think she had an accident? Or she’s stranded somewhere? A few miles north of here, residents lost power and we just got word of a building collapsing. Rescue workers are on the scene now.”
Ahh, geesh. “Let me know what they find. But this is about the Christmas Killer.”
Clarissa released a long-winded sigh. “You think he’s here in Tinley? That he has Carly?”
“I think so.” Murphy explained about Gia’s phone call from her sister and the killer’s message. “He’s making it personal.”
“You’re right, this is huge,” Clarissa said. “Do you want me to run with the story?”
Murphy was torn. Going public would cause fear in locals and visitors. But he’d be remiss if he kept quiet. And they needed all eyes looking for this madman. “If he sticks to his schedule, he’ll be hunting another victim. We have to warn residents and tourists, tell women not to travel or go out alone. To be hyper vigilante about taking safety precautions.”
“In the midst of the blizzard, most people will be staying in,” Clarissa said. “That could help.”
“True. But it would be irresponsible not to inform the public. Post my office phone number and emphasize that if anyone sees or hears anything suspicious, they should call in.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “Can you get this on the local TV and radio stations right away?”
“As soon as we hang up,” Clarissa said.
“Thanks, Clarissa. I hate to incite panic. But it’s better than losing another woman to this madman.”
“Agreed.” She hesitated. “You said Gia Franklin is in town?”
“Yes,” Murphy said. “We’re going to my office to review the details of the case. My deputy started organizing search parties as soon as she called last night. He’ll be overseeing them all day today.” His pulse hammered.
Of course, they might need manpower to help first responders if the blizzard proved as bad as predicted. Already lives had been lost in Montana and Colorado. Downed power lines, dangerous roads, and falling trees could also prove deadly.
“Sheriff, do you think Gia would want to go on camera and make a statement?”
Murphy looked at Gia as he walked back to the table. “I’ll ask her.” The strain of the night and exhaustion carved deep grooves beside her eyes.
His heart gave a pang as he remembered the grief on her face at her mother’s funeral. Carly was the only family she had left.
She’d be devastated if she lost her sister.
* * *
8:00 a.m., December 19, Tinley
Gia hated dealing with the press again, but if it meant saving a life, she would do it.
She and Murphy met Clarissa Klondike at his office. By the time the anchorwoman arrived, Clarissa had arranged for a local crew to be present.
Nerves bunched in Gia’s belly, and she wished she hadn’t eaten breakfast. But she needed fuel for energy. Today might prove to be the longest day of her life.
The cameraman Eric Garrison greeted her and Murphy with a solemn expression. “I’ve been keeping up with the story about the Christmas Killer. I’m sorry to hear he has your sister.”
Gia swallowed hard in an effort not to break down. She had to get through this. “He saw me on the news yesterday in Gulf Shores. He took her because of me.”
“We’ll do whatever we can to help you find her and stop him,” Eric assured her.
Clarissa cleared her
throat. “The radio stations are already blasting precautions about the blizzard. As soon as we’re finished here, we’ll ask them to add a special segment focusing on the Christmas Killer and Carly’s disappearance.”
Murphy squared his shoulders and thanked her. ‘Tinley residents have always jumped in to help one another. I have no doubt in my mind they will now.”
The sheriff’s confidence bolstered Gia’s own. A blessing to live in a small town. People cared about each other and offered support when one of their own was in trouble.
She’d missed that. Missed the kind of strength being around Murphy offered.
Missed him.
“Are you ready, Special Agent Franklin?” Eric asked.
Gia inhaled a deep breath and nodded. Somehow, she had to find a way to get through to the sicko who had Carly. She just hoped he was watching.
* * *
8:15 a.m., December 19, Tinley
Murphy watched Gia address the public with a mixture of admiration and concern as she spoke about the case and her sister. She gave a gallant effort to keep her voice steady, but fear and worry tinged her tone.
She finished with a heartfelt plea. “People, we have already lost nine young women to this madman. Please help me stop him before he adds another name to his list.”
Gia glanced his way and he stepped up to speak. “Carly Franklin has donated her time and money to gathering toys for needy children and for the children’s hospital. Let’s show her our love now. Here are ways you can help. Call my office and speak with my deputy about joining one of our search parties. Also, if you were near Happy Holidays! in the past forty-eight hours and saw anything suspicious, please contact the sheriff’s office right away.” He paused. “And last but not least, ladies, be careful. Travel together. As much as we love welcoming strangers to our town, this is a time to be cautious. The blizzard that has already barreled across two states is upon us, so my advice is to stay home with your families or friends.”
He cited the phone number for his office and ended with the tip line number the FBI had set up.
“We’ll get this across radio and TV stations immediately,” Clarissa told him.
She and Eric packed up their equipment, and Murphy walked them outside. The sky was dark, snow clouds hanging heavy and barely visible with the precipitation increasing. The wind tossed twigs and debris across the street, tearing the Christmas garland from the streetlamps and store awnings and whipping it through the air. A shudder flapped on the Sari’s Sweets bakery across the street and the force of the wind blew the fake Santas and elves in front of Happy Holidays! to the sidewalk.
Clarissa and Eric raced through the foot-deep snow as fast as they could, battling the wind gusts and blinding snowfall. Patrons at Bubba’s were dashing out to their cars or walking to the inn, hopefully to stay tucked inside for the day.
He tugged his jacket up around his neck as he surveyed the street front. The maniac who’d abducted Carly had escaped nine times. How in the hell would they find him—and Carly—in this frigid mess?
* * *
8:20 a.m., December 19, Tinley
Gia found Murphy’s whiteboard and marker and spread her files on the table beside it. Next she listed all the information she’d gleaned on the Christmas Killer.
She’d studied the victims so much that she’d memorized the victims’ names and intricate details about their lives. Her team had done the same, all searching for a method to this killer’s madness.
Murphy strode in, carrying two cups of coffee. He set one on the table for her, and she murmured thanks then gestured toward the photos and information she’d tacked on the board.
"The first three victims all lived in Delray Beach, Florida," she said as she began sharing details about the case with Murphy.
"Victim one—Page Gleeson, twenty-seven-years old, single, a coffee barista at a coffee shop a block from the boardwalk at Delray Beach. According to her coworkers, she left the coffee shop after her shift ended at nine and was walking home. She never made it. Police canvassed the area, but it was a busy night, and no one noticed Page or what happened to her. Body was found in the coffee shop at four a.m. the next morning by a coworker when he opened up.
"Victim two—Kittie Preston, twenty-four, engaged to a grad student. He was questioned and had a rock-solid alibi. She worked at a shoe store at the mall where she was last seen leaving around ten o’clock p.m. Her car was left in the parking lot where we believe she was taken." Gia paused to put the grisly images of the victims out of her head. "Police reviewed security cameras but the two on the south end weren’t working, so found nothing. Body was discovered on the beach by an early morning jogger. She was wearing a pair of red heels and an ugly Christmas sweater."
Murphy sat quietly, absorbing the details. His solid presence had a calming effect on Gia, made it easier to talk about previous victims of the man who had her sister.
"Victim three—Anita Henderson, twenty-five, single, owned a food truck that catered to local events. She was last seen at a music festival, which drew hundreds of people. It appears he abducted her during one of the concerts, but again no witnesses. Body discovered in her own food truck the next morning. She was propped against the serving counter as if waiting on a customer wearing a Santa cap.
"The next three victims were found in Savannah, Georgia." Gia paused to take a fortifying sip of coffee.
"Victim four—Avery Wong, twenty-one, single, on vacation with her girlfriends. According to her friends, they went shopping at the tourist’s shops on River Street, then had drinks at a bar. Avery complained of a migraine and left early to walk back to the hotel. When the girls got back, Avery wasn’t there. Her body was discovered by the hotel pool at five a.m. in a red and green striped bathing suit when some guests, returning from partying all night, decided to skinny dip.
"Victim five—Lucy Crandall, twenty-two, worked at a t-shirt/souvenir shop by the river. Single, working her way through college. She was last seen going for a run from her apartment. No clues or suspects. Body was found in the park on a bench wearing a souvenir Christmas shirt and jogging shorts."
Images of her own sister, surrounded by the trappings of a holiday she loved, brought a lump to Gia's throat. She cleared it, brought herself under control and continued the grisly briefing.
"Victim six—Ruthie Pickley, twenty-eight, a waitress at the Crab Hut, last seen leaving for a date. She met the guy on-line, but we tracked him down and he claims he went to meet her, but she never showed. Witnesses confirm he was at the restaurant where they were supposed to meet, that he called his buddy who met him there for drinks when Ruthie stood him up. She was found in a holiday waitress uniform in a gazebo by the pier holding a bucket of crabs."
Images of her sister's blood-spattered shop almost undid Gia.
"Now the perp moved onto Gulf Shores." The staggering number of victims had her reaching for her cup again, taking courage from the small burst of caffeine.
"Victim seven—Sissy Wiggins, cleaned rooms at the Motel Five. Last seen leaving the night before to attend a yoga class which she never made. Again, police checked cameras at the hotel, questioned her coworkers, and investigated everyone on the guest registry. Nothing. Body discovered below the yoga sign in front of the gym, dressed in yoga pants and a Christmas tank.
"Victim eight—Marcia Sanchez, twenty-nine, engaged to a soldier who is currently deployed. She worked at a donut shop on the strip by the beach. Cameras inside the shop show her chatting with customers throughout the morning, but none of them fit the profile of the killer. She was found at the drive-through counter with holiday donuts stacked in front of her.
Gia wouldn't think about Carly's love for the holidays right now. Couldn't think of it.
Murphy shifted uncomfortably. “This guy is beyond sick.”
Gia nodded and went on. "Victim nine—Terry Ann Igley, had a live-in girlfriend. Vic owned a pet grooming and boarding service that catered to tourists. Body was found in one of her
dog cages with a sign encouraging people to give rescue puppies as Christmas gifts."
Murphy made a disgusted sound. “He’s really making a mockery out of the holiday.”
Gia nodded. “We don’t know why yet, but that’s true.”
Murphy ran a hand through his thick hair. “He doesn’t seem to have a type. Some are blondes, others are brunettes, and some are redheads.”
“Exactly. “Gia sighed, her gaze skating over the photographs again. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to add Carly’s photo.
“The only commonality between the girls is the fact that they all work in service industry jobs where they meet a multitude of people during the day.”
“That’s how he meets them, so he doesn’t stand out. And they’re forced to interact with them.”
“True. He may misinterpret their reaction to him as personal interest, or rejection,” Gia suggested.
Murphy frowned. “The fact that he’s moving from state to state is unusual, isn’t it?”
“Not that unusual. He may be hopping from one place to another to mess with us, and of course, to avoid being caught. He probably likes watching us run around trying to figure out where he’ll go next. That gives him time to travel to his next location and stake out his next victim.”
Murphy nodded. “Wasn’t there a case where a man murdered women along the interstate?”
Her stomach knotted. “You’re right, there was.”
“What if there’s more to it than random moving from one state to the other? What if these states mean something to him?”
Gia’s mind raced. “That’s possible. The first three are all Southern states. But then he came all the way here to Nebraska.” Emotions caught in her throat. “Of course, that was because of me.”
Murphy’s dark eyes locked with hers. “Maybe. But think about it. His traveling could have something to do with his job. What if he’s a traveling salesman or a trucker? He’s used to being on the road and encountering the type of service people you described.”
