“Why, is there something I’m missing, here?”
“I know you want to believe the best, but you’re too trusting. I don’t want to see anyone take advantage of that.” As much as I pressed him, he wouldn’t elaborate anymore than that.
Cryptic much. I knew he was only trying to look out for me, but I couldn’t help but wonder if my mother was onto something. Had Shaw sparked a dormant bit of jealousy in him?
~~~~
She’d found it. My present. Sooner than expected, but that was alright. It made no difference. They needed to know that I was in control. That I had dear Emily.
I watched her cowering in the corner. She knew. She knew I held the power. She’d fought me at first, but learned very quickly that it wasn’t worth it. She knew what I was capable of and what I wanted. She also knew I’d do anything to get it.
I walked toward her mattress on the floor. Fear-filled eyes peered up at me, and like I did every night, I knelt down in front of her. A quiet whimper fell from her lips and she tried to scamper away, but she was trapped between me and the wall. There was nowhere for her to go. She pressed herself up against the wall anyway. I grabbed her arm, no longer able to pull her by her hair, and yanked her towards me. My hand closed around her throat and my heart started thrumming rapidly in my chest as I watched the tears pool in her eyes and then stream down her cheeks. With her arms bound she couldn’t fight my hold and I tightened it. Her choked gasps stirred my blood and sent it pumping south. Such lovely sounds they were. Her fear was beautiful. I squeezed harder and her eyes began to bulge. Her life was literally in my hands.
The choking sounds began to quiet and I watched as her eyes started to dim. It would be so easy to let her go, to end her right now. I knew how good it would feel when the last of the light left her eyes and her body went limp. She was so close. Another few seconds and she would be gone.
At the last second, I pulled my hand away and she collapsed to the mattress, coughing and gagging, trying to fill her lungs with air.
“I suppose I’ll let you live another night,” I told her, and stood. She began to sob into the mattress. I undid the binds on her hands and immediately she started rubbing her wrists while she continued to cry. At least she didn’t beg anymore. At first I’d gotten off on her pleas, but then I quickly tired of them. That was the first night I’d wrapped my hand around her throat and thought about ending her life. But I’d spared her then just as I had every night since.
Would I spare her again tomorrow night? Or would it be the night that I finally decided to end her. I didn’t know, but the power coursed through my veins and made me feel so alive. I needed to fuck something. Not her though. Not Emily.
Someone else would have to do.
Ten
James and I put off telling our parents about the hair through the weekend, but we couldn’t do it any longer. Sunday morning he got a phone call from our favorite FBI agent. Almost as soon as he hung up with Monroe, my phone was ringing and it was Parker, but by then I’d already heard James’ conversation and knew that DNA had been pulled from the hair and it was Emily’s. Parker let me know that with this new evidence, they would be stepping up the investigation, as if that would somehow make me feel better.
He gave me a heads up that they would likely be doing more thorough interviews with the people in Emily’s life, including my employees and even some customers if they felt it was necessary. They still couldn’t rule out, or say for certain, that this was all tied to the strangler case, but were going to operate under the assumption that it was, and that Emily was the piece of the puzzle that would lead them to him. After that conversation, it was time to come clean with my parents and fill them in on everything.
James decided it would be best if he went and talked to his parents, and I had mine come to the house. When I sat them down in the living room, starting with the prowler and ending with the hair, I had to talk my parents out of kidnapping me and locking me up in my childhood bedroom until the police made an arrest. To say they were worried was an understatement. When I explained to them that I was not leaving my home or my business, they made me call the landlord right then and get the ball rolling on the security system. My dad offered to pay for the installation, and when James got back, he made the call to the security company to set it up for the next day.
“I guess this is a good time to give you your surprise.” Mom looked at Dad and he jerked his head in agreement and walked out to the truck to retrieve a small black case. When he popped it open on my coffee table, a small handgun was nestled inside. All shiny, metallic and black except for the slide and top of the barrel which were hot pink.
“We know you’ve had your license a while, but been reluctant to get a gun. Given everything going on, your mother and I would feel better knowing you had a way to protect yourself.”
I remembered the first time my dad tried to take me hunting with him not long after I’d come to them. I was fourteen, and still I cried when he shot a deer. After that the only targets I shot at were non-living. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to point a gun at a person anymore than I’d been able to point one at a deer, but if I had to, hopefully it would be enough without me actually needing to fire it. I thanked them for the gift, and my dad looked at me expectantly.
I took the gun from the case and looked it over. The weight and feel of it in my hand was good. Noticing James’ eager eyes, I passed it to him to check out. When he completed his brief inspection, he gave a satisfied nod and then returned it to me to place back in the case.
“Now there’s some paperwork that will have to be done to transfer the piece to you,” my dad explained.
By the time they returned to Everett the next day, we’d taken care of everything and I was outfitted to do some damage thanks to my parents and James. He saw to the security system installation while we were out buying ammo and holsters on Monday. I was grateful that it was done before they left town, not just for my peace of mind but because I knew it made it easier for my parents to go. I didn’t expect they would worry any less, but they’d done all they could to ensure my safety, short of dragging me back to Everett with them.
James was taking my security just as seriously, and my afternoon off that week was spent at the firing range getting comfortable with my new accessory. I still objected to wearing Stella, because all the best weapons had names and she was a classy lady, on my body all day, but I compromised and took her to work with me, where she stayed tucked securely in the safe until I went home each night.
Business was even busier than usual over the next two weeks, and I think it had something to do with the cops that were around almost every day. Nothing draws the masses like potential scandal and gossip, especially about such a hot news topic. I’m pretty sure Monroe and Parker had their guys looking into every person who set foot inside my shop, even pulling a few aside to question. They’d asked me about all of our regulars and if there were any who paid Em special attention, or were around more than others, or anyone who came in that gave me a bad feeling.
I wished it was that simple. I wished I had a name I could give them, but Em was rarely in the shop and when she was, most of her time was spent in the back office. Everyone that knew her, loved her. And lots of guys paid her special attention, but no one that gave me a bad feeling, and Em had never spoken to me of anyone that her creeped her out. Still, I told them everything I knew about the people who came in. Even my employees had to go through another round of interviews as well, which it seemed not all of them appreciated.
Mitch didn’t say it to me, but Will was in the shop on Tuesday when I was out and relayed something he’d overheard. Mitch had been complaining to Carlie that he was worried being in the middle of an investigation might hurt his chances of getting into law enforcement, or slow down the process.
It pissed me off that he was more concerned with that than cooperating in the investigation. He was probably lucky he wasn’t scheduled to work with me for a few days. I might have f
ired him, or at the very least ripped into him. I didn’t believe for a minute that any of my employees had anything to do with hurting anyone, but I still expected them to answer questions and do whatever the police asked. Even if at the end of the two weeks Monroe and Parker still had nothing to go on.
The police and FBI were being raked through the media for their inability to catch the killer. By this time, they’d picked up on the investigation into Emily’s connection. Her story was back to playing twenty times a day, and only added to the number of people flocking through my doors, hoping to catch juicy tidbits about the case. My employees were under strict orders not to talk to anyone, but I couldn’t keep my customers from gabbing. The longer it went without any new updates, the worse it got. Everyone was getting antsy, just waiting for the next girl to go missing, and suspicions were high. The killer had been speeding up his timetable with each victim and everyone knew it was only a matter of time until the next one was taken and no one knew where he would strike.
The first, Missy, had been taken over the Fourth of July weekend. A night of partying with friends on Lake Union had ended with her body being found a few days later. Back then it was just an isolated incident. One gruesome tragedy. A party girl with a sad fate, but by Halloween everybody had already forgotten about her, even though the murder went unsolved. And then Natasha Rhodes was found at Lake Sammamish almost a week after she’d reportedly disappeared from a Halloween party near the UW campus. Two University of Washington girls from Seattle killed and dumped in the same way and people started to worry.
Then Erika Paul from Evergreen College in Olympia went missing at the end of their fall quarter finals in December. When she was found several days later, all the way up at Lake Stevens, people weren’t just worried. Three was the magic number and we knew we had a predator preying on college girls and he wasn’t restricting himself to Seattle. It was less than two weeks later that Em and Laney both disappeared within days of each other. More than a month had passed since then.
My fear was that regardless of when and where he struck again, the number was going to climb a lot higher before the police and FBI could catch him. According to Ben, who was doing his best to keep me in the loop as much as he was, they were working with very little evidence, and without a single witness to any of the abductions or body dumps, it was a slow investigation. It didn’t help that these girls were putting themselves in vulnerable, high risk situations, more than likely under the influence of alcohol.
I wondered how many red-heads in Washington were coloring their hair. And would it stop him? Would it make them safe? Emily hadn’t been safe, which again brought me back to her part in this. The one who didn’t fit, the one Monroe hoped would tell them more about the guy who took her.
My only comfort came from knowing that Emily was top priority.
On top of looking into everyone at Urban Grind, they went back through and talked to all of her friends and family again. They talked to everyone at the other businesses she did marketing for, and I think they tracked down every guy that she’d ever dated. They’d asked me and her parents for a list.
Even though I knew statistics showed that most of these guys were people you’d least suspect, I just couldn’t imagine it being anyone I knew. That didn’t stop me from wondering every time someone walked into my shop. I’d ask myself if Mr. Stevens from the drug store who came in every morning, or Dr. Andrews, the pediatrician who liked to bring his wife and kids on the weekends for cinnamon rolls could be the one who hurt Emily. Or Danny with his quirky nature and odd habits. But it just seemed too absurd. I knew my customers, some better than others, some not very well, but I made it a point to talk to everyone who came in, ask them about their day, what they did, where they worked, what their plans were for the weekend, especially those that came in more than once. I just couldn’t imagine any one of them having a dark side like that and being able to hide it so well, appear so normal, friendly even.
Which meant I was no help to the police at all. That killed me more than anything. I couldn’t do a thing to help my best friend, not even point the police and FBI in the right direction.
“You looked stressed.”
I turned my head from where I’d been staring out the window aimlessly, telling myself I had to be missing something, and my eyes landed on Shaw. He stood on the opposite side of the counter, watching me intently. I searched the depths of his eyes, wondering for a brief moment if he was the one. I could see a lot of things in him; intelligence, cunning even, secrets, and darkness, but it wasn’t a darkness that frightened me. If anything it made me feel safe and at ease. Instinct told me I would be foolish not to think he was dangerous, but that he wasn’t dangerous to me. That didn’t make sense, but it’s what I felt.
I just didn’t know if I could trust my own judgment. What I did know was that for the past two weeks he’d been coming in for his regularly scheduled black coffee and sticking around to flirt. At least that’s what I thought he was doing, but he never got to collecting on his rain check. I was beginning to think he changed his mind.
I let my face relax into a playful smile and rested my hip against the counter, folding my arms across my chest. “I was just wondering if you were ever going to ask me to dinner again. A girl gets impatient, you know.”
“Is that so?” He placed his hands on the countertop and leaned in. “What are you doing tonight?”
“You’re in luck. I’m off at four.”
He grinned and straightened. “Then I’ll pick you up a little before seven if you give me your address.”
“I have to open tomorrow, so can’t be out too late. Can we make it six-thirty? And if you tell me the restaurant, I’ll meet you there.” Something inside me I didn’t understand told me I could trust him, but I still wasn’t breaking my date rules. And I never let a guy I didn’t know well pick me up on the first date.
“Good girl,” he nodded, not at all bothered by it. “Six-thirty it is. D’Anna’s?”
“It’s a date,” I chirped. “Now, let me get your coffee. The usual?”
“You know what I like.” He waited while I made his coffee, but didn’t stick around to visit today. Will was walking in as Shaw was leaving, but before he pushed through the doors, he turned to me. “See you tonight.”
I nodded and bit my lip to keep my smile from getting any bigger. Shaw retreated out the door and I turned my attention to the slight scowl on Will’s face.
“What?”
“What was all that ‘see you tonight’ about?”
“I have a date.”
“With that guy?”
“Obviously,” I dragged out.
“I didn’t know you were serious about hooking up with him.”
“Is there a problem?” I asked, confused.
“How well do you even know him?”
“Isn’t the point of a date to get to know someone?”
“I just don’t know if it’s a good idea with some whack job running around killing girls,” he argued.
“I get that, and it’s not like I’m going to go home with someone I barely know. I’m not stupid, but why would the killer come after me? It’s not like I’ve been any help to the police at all. Even if I’m wrong, I don’t think coming into my shop every day for a month and asking me out publicly is how he would go about getting to me. If his plan is to strangle me, then all he’s done is make himself the prime suspect. Something tells me the real killer is smarter than that.”
“Or smart enough to know how to get you to trust him,” Will retorted.
“Look,” I let out a frustrated breath. “I appreciate the concern, but we’re just going to D’Anna’s for dinner. Not away for the weekend. I’m not even letting him pick me up. Nothing bad is going to happen at dinner in a public restaurant. The worst that could happen is the guy turns out to be a total dud and I have a shitty time and go home.” Not likely.
“Or you could end up being the next face on the news,” he shot back.
&n
bsp; “At least if I go missing, you’ll know whose name to give the police,” I retorted childishly.
“Dammit, Nora,” he barked, “you’re not taking this seriously.”
“Keep it down,” I hissed. He was drawing attention. “I promise you, I’m taking this seriously. Besides, the police have talked to him, and I’m sure they would have mentioned if they picked up creepy killer vibes from him.”
His frown remained unamused.
I threw my hands up. “He met my parents for crying out loud.”
“You’ve yet to tell me anything about the guy that makes him trustworthy. The truth is, you don’t really know him, or what he’s really like.”
“We’ve been through this. That’s why I’m going on the date. To get to know him better, and then I’ll decide if I think he’s capable of being a serial killer.
His frown deepened. “You’re putting yourself at risk. I don’t like it.”
“Yeah, and I don’t like sitting around, feeling like I’m not doing shit to find Emily, but there’s nothing we can do about either one of those things. I’m going on the date, Will. I’ll be careful and smart, but I’m going.”
His features softened. “Tell me you’re not doing this in some messed up attempt to catch the bad guy because you feel guilty. You know Em wouldn’t want you putting yourself in danger.”
“That’s not what I’m doing. I like the guy. I want to go on this date. What I don’t want is to live in fear and worry that everyone who comes into my life might be a sick criminal.”
“But what if he is?”
“I said I would be careful, and I will, but you’re not talking me out of going.”
“I don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Fine, but I don’t care if he’s not the killer. If he doesn’t treat you right, I’ll kick his ass like I should have done to the last one.”
“Aww, you care.” I nudged his shoulder, hoping to ease some of the tension.
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