Red Red Rose

by Stephanie Hoffman McManus

  “Could you write down the number you have for him?”

  I scribbled out the number I had memorized and then set the pen down.

  “What does all this mean?”

  “All of this, Miss Scott, means that Spencer Shaw has tried very hard to leave as few paper trails as possible.”

  “Maybe he has a good reason.”

  “Or maybe instead of straightening him out, the military only turned him into a better killer and liar, Miss Scott. Prior to enlisting, he was a very troubled young-man.”

  I didn’t know how much more of this I could listen to. “You said there were multiple persons of interest you were looking at, so you aren’t sure that Spencer’s involved in any of this?”

  “No we’re not, but it seems to me that the kind of guy who can avoid leaving a paper trail would be exactly the kind of guy who wouldn’t leave behind evidence either.” He sounded so sure, and my heart sank inside my chest.

  “What about the other suspects?”

  “We’re still verifying alibis, but it’s difficult given that none of the abductions and murders can be pinpointed to an exact time. All we have to work with are rough estimations based on what information we do have.”

  Everything in me wanted to argue, to insist that they had it wrong. “But why would he do this?” I whispered.

  I wasn’t sure if Monroe was going to answer me or not, but before he even got the chance, Parker returned. He had several clear bags in his hand, and a confused scowl on his face that was directed at me.

  “Nora, did you call Missy Davidson and Natasha Rhodes’ cell phones last night?”

  Monroe’s head jerked to Parker and then back to me. I swallowed and felt the slip of paper with phone numbers burning a hole in my pocket. I took it out and set it on the table.

  “Spencer had this in his sweatshirt pocket. I found it, and when I recognized Emily’s number, I called a couple of the others and when I realized who they belonged to . . .” I trailed off, unable to meet either of their stares. I felt like somehow I’d just betrayed Spencer, but if he had anything to do with this, then I wanted him caught, and if he didn’t, then it shouldn’t matter if I gave them this information.

  Monroe took the slip and slid it into his file, and then Parker laid out the bags on the table in front of me.

  “Oh, God,” I breathed. I thought I might be sick.

  “You recognize them?” Monroe asked.

  I nodded, unable to pull my eyes away from the clothing in the bags.

  “They belong to Emily?”

  I shook my head and then forced my eyes to meet his. “They’re mine,” I whispered. One bag held a set of lacy red underwear, exactly like a set I owned, but couldn’t remember wearing in a while. Then there was the shirt and skirt, and there was no doubt those were mine. It was the Ashes and Embers shirt I’d been looking for. In the last bag was a coat. Emily’s brown Carhart one I’d lost in the woods.

  “They’re yours?” Monroe looked puzzled, but I imagine it was nowhere near how I looked at the moment.

  “These were on Dana?” I choked out.

  “Yes. She was dressed in these items and the coat laid over her.”

  “The coat, that’s Emily’s, but I was wearing it Saturday.” I then explained how I’d lost it in the woods, believing that a homeless person or drug addict had taken it.

  “Where was this?”

  When I told him the spot, a look passed between Monroe and Parker, and Monroe informed me it was near where Dana had been found. She’d been dumped on the same stretch of road down by Bellingham Bay.

  “We believe he chose that spot to dump Dana because of its proximity to the Raynes’ home. Who chose the location for your game of paintball, Nora?”

  “It was me. The whole thing was my idea. That’s the spot Emily and I would go with her brother and his friends.”

  “And did you tell Spencer this?”

  “Yes.”

  “And was he aware that the jacket belonged to Emily?”

  The nasty feeling in my gut grew. “Yes.”

  “What about the rest of the clothing? You said you and Emily shared everything, could she have been wearing them when she was taken?”

  “I, I don’t know what she was wearing, but it’s possible that she borrowed the skirt and shirt. She has before, but the underwear . . . she wouldn’t have borrowed those.” Then something else occurred to me. “But . . . if someone broke into our house, he could have taken them from our laundry hamper believing they were hers.”

  Monroe rose out of his seat and collected the files. “I think that’s enough for now. You’ve given us plenty to go on. Thank you for your help, Miss Scott.”

  “That’s it?” I shoved my chair back and stood. “What are you going to do? What do you think is going on?”

  “I don’t subscribe to coincidence Miss Scott, and Dana Winters turning up just down the road from the Raynes’ property, at a spot Mr. Shaw was aware held a personal attachment for Emily is no coincidence. Covered by Emily’s jacket no less. We’ll be bringing him in for more questioning, and until we can make an arrest I suggest you steer clear of Mr. Shaw and call us right away if he tries to approach you.”

  “You really think it’s him?” I just couldn’t believe that. “There’s no way.”

  “Unless you can vouch for Mr. Shaw’s whereabouts from Saturday evening until Sunday morning, or any of the other nights that the girls were abducted, then I have to disagree.”

  “I . . .” I wished I could. I wanted more than anything to be able to clear this up by telling them that Shaw was with me all night Saturday, but he wasn’t. He left at midnight. I told them as much and about my neighbor seeing the dark car, similar to the one I saw Shaw getting out of at his hotel. I may as well have been signing an arrest warrant myself, because both Monroe and Parker seemed to take it as further confirmation of his guilt.

  Our interview was over and Parker held the door open for me, but before I was through it, I turned back to Monroe who was gathering the files and evidence off the table. “Why would he do this?” I forced out.

  He looked up sympathetically. “At this point we could only speculate, Miss Scott.”

  I swallowed back the rising nausea. “But why do you think he would do it? Why the other girls if he’s fixated on Emily? And why would he try to get close to me?” It didn’t make sense. We all had to be missing something, or someone else, because it couldn’t be Spencer.

  Monroe pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a deep breath. “Look, I know you don’t want to believe it and you’re trying to make sense of this situation, but the truth is, it may never make sense to you. And until our psychologist sits down with this guy, then the best I can do for you is try to put together the pieces of the puzzle we do have. The guy has a violent nature and one hell of an ego. He’s aggressive and from everything we can tell, has had trouble with authority from an early age. Now we can’t access his military records but if I had to guess, I’d say he experienced a traumatic event that caused his discharge. Probably suffered physical as well as psychological damage. The killings began less than a year after his release. Why he chose those girls, I can only guess that they remind him of someone. Could be someone he lost, someone who left him, someone he blames, but they definitely have some meaning to him.”

  “And what about Emily? Why her?”

  “I’ve said all I can say until we know more, but whatever the reason, his obsession seems to be shifting from whoever those girls represent, to your friend, and it’s possible he sees you as a way to be closer to her.”

  “But why would he need to be closer to her if he has her?”

  Monroe didn’t have to answer. His eyes said it all. He wouldn’t unless he didn’t have her anymore. If he’d killed her.

  I left the station not knowing where to go. My mind was reeling under the onslaught of emotions and unanswered questions. I was supposed to be at work in an hour, but I wasn’t sure that I could get through t
he day pretending it was just another Monday. I seriously considered hopping on the freeway and not stopping until I reached my parents’. What I wouldn’t give to be able to curl up in my mother’s arms and have her tell me everything was going to be alright.

  I found myself making the familiar turns that would take me to the shop. It was the only place I could go. Running to Mom and Dad’s may have been the smarter choice, but I couldn’t do it. And I couldn’t go home right now either. I would only drive myself crazy there. At least I felt safe at the shop and could keep my mind busy.

  It was quiet when I walked in, just a few customers scattered throughout the shop, buried in their own lives, on their phones or computers. Danny was the only one who looked up from his laptop and smiled at me. I did my best to muster a smile in return, but I don’t think I was successful. His faded to a slight frown. I diverted my gaze.

  Reggie and Cassie chatted behind the counter, pausing their conversation when I walked up and leaned against the counter. “How’s the morning been?”

  “Good, but you just missed your boyfriend,” Cassie chirped

  “Spencer was here?” Some of my anxiety spilled over into my question and I knew Cassie could hear it.

  Her brow pinched with concern. “Yeah. He was in here about fifteen minutes ago. Asked when you’d be in. I told him I wasn’t sure, that you had things to do this morning. Is something wrong? Did he do something?”

  “I don’t know,” I muttered, pushing off the counter. “I’ll be back in the office if you guys need me.” I couldn’t bring myself to tell them about my meeting with Monroe and Parker and their suspicions. Not yet anyway. Short of Spencer confessing, I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to accept his guilt, or that I’d trusted the man who might have killed my best friend. Maybe even fallen in love with him.

  God, I thought I might be sick. I slumped into the chair at my desk and covered my mouth with my hand to stifle the sob that was trying to work its way out of my throat. I sucked in ragged breaths and willed myself not to lose it.

  Someone knocked on the open door and my eyes jerked to the doorway. Will stood there with worried eyes. “Can I come in?”

  I nodded, fisting my hand, afraid that if I opened my mouth, that first sob might get out and then I would have a full breakdown in front of him.

  He dragged another chair next to mine and grabbed my hand, pulling it away from my face, holding it in his. “What’s going on, Nora? Cass sent me back here because she was worried you were upset. Now I see she had reason to be worried.”

  The tears gathered behind my eyes. “I don’t know what to believe anymore,” I admitted and then let it all out. Once I’d told him everything I’d learned about the investigation, he sat back in his chair and scraped a hand over his hair.

  “Shit, Nora,” he breathed, shaking his head. “No wonder you look like you’re barely holding it together. Did you know he was a suspect before this morning?”

  “I found out last night. Nathan called to tell me Spencer was being questioned. I thought he was just being a jealous asshole.” I looked down at my lap, blinking away the frustrated tears that were still pooling.

  “I thought you said the police questioned and ruled him out the same time they did the rest of us.”

  “According to the FBI agent, no one was entirely ruled out. It was more that they couldn’t find a link at the time to anyone they questioned, but I guess Shaw has been on their radar for a while. I just didn’t know.” I felt pathetic and foolish.

  “You had no reason to believe he could be involved.”

  “But I should have. Hell, you even warned me to be careful, and if I hadn’t been so distracted by the damn butterflies in my stomach, maybe I would have noticed something sooner.”

  “You need to stop. You don’t even know that he’s guilty.”

  I scoffed. “Oh, so now you’re defending him.”

  “I know I wasn’t exactly his biggest fan and I didn’t trust him, but that was just me looking out for you and not wanting to see you get hurt by another asshole like Nathan. That doesn’t mean I’m convinced the guy is a cold-blooded killer, and maybe you should give him the benefit of the doubt until an actual arrest is made. The police and the FBI want to catch the guy so bad, it’s possible they’re just going after the first one that looks good, but he could still be proven innocent and then you’ll just beat yourself up for condemning him.”

  “What am I supposed to do in the mean-time?”

  “All you can do is wait. And be careful. Stay away from him for now. If he’s innocent, he’ll understand when this is all over, and no matter what, your friends will be here for you. We won’t let him or anyone else hurt you.”

  I slumped my head against his shoulder and he massaged his hand up and down my back a few times. “I feel like an idiot, like I’m doomed to keep falling for the bad guys.”

  My cell phone on the desk began vibrating. I sat up and started to reach for it, until I saw who was calling. “Speak of the devil,” I muttered bitterly, letting the call go unanswered.

  “You should get out of here. Take the day off, go get your nails done, or go see your parents, anything that will keep from you stressing this all day until you hear from your FBI agent.”

  I started to protest, but Will grabbed my hand and pulled me up from my seat. “I don’t want to hear any excuses. Your people can run the shop. You don’t need to be here today.”

  I didn’t have much of an argument and I let him push me out of my own shop with Reggie’s promise that they would call me if they needed anything. I wasn’t a nails kind of girl, but I did manage to get a last minute massage appointment. I figured if anything might help me relax, it would be a massage. With some time to kill until my appointment, I made a mental list of everything I was out of at home and did my monthly shopping.

  It turned out to be a mistake. Every store that I walked into was decked out with red and pink, trying to make those last minute Valentine sales before the big day on Wednesday. I’d never been all that concerned with the holiday in the past, but at the beginning of the month, when I made this week’s schedule, I’d given myself the night off, in hopes that I might spend it with Shaw. In my head he was back to being Shaw. It helped me to put distance between Shaw and Spencer as if they weren’t the same guy. Even though they were. On impulse, at my last stop, I bought a box of gourmet chocolates. Every girl should have chocolates on Valentine’s Day, even if she had to buy them herself. Not that this box would make it to Wednesday. I proceeded to eat half of it on the drive to the massage therapist’s office.

  During my massage I missed another call from Shaw, and all the tension Dante worked out of my body with his amazing hands, returned.

  I couldn’t go back to the shop, afraid he might show up again, and I was too nervous to go home for the same reason. Why hadn’t the cops picked him up yet?

  I pulled into a sub shop for lunch, and it was as I was leaving, that I finally got the call from Parker that they were holding Shaw. I thought I would be able to breathe easier, but if anything I felt worse.

  Twenty

  Emily screamed my name and I ran down the hallway toward her. I could see the tears streaking down her face and yet she was so far away. She reached out her hand, begging me to help her, and I tried to pump my legs faster. It felt like the harder I ran, the more resistance I met, like running with weights attached to my legs. There was a shadow behind her, looming over her, trying to pull her in. She fought and thrashed and screamed my name, but I couldn’t get to her, and then she was gone, completely enveloped by the shadow. Only now it wasn’t a shadow.

  It was a man, tall and muscular, his face shrouded by a dark hood. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I could feel them prickling my skin. I collapsed to my knees and begged him to bring Emily back. I pleaded with him to tell me what he’d done with her, but no answer came. He moved closer with slow, menacing steps and I shook with fear. Instinct urged me to get to my feet and run, but I couldn’t. I w
as trapped in that spot, paralyzed by my terror. The panic and dread built as he drew near, and still I couldn’t move. I watched each step he took through the tears that blurred my vision. I knew that once he reached me, he would kill me. I felt it, the shadows pressing down on me as he came to stand over my kneeling position.

  That’s when I realized we were no longer in a hall, but at Urban Grind. No light filtered in through the large panes of glass, only the blackness of night. I stared at his booted feet, refusing to look up into the face of my killer and I braced myself for whatever he would do. But he did nothing. My frame shook and trembled as I waited for my end, but it didn’t come. I risked a peek up through my lashes and it was as if he’d been waiting for me to look at him, because he slowly lowered himself onto his haunches before me, his face still hidden by the hood.

  His hand came out and he brushed the backs of his fingers over my cheek. A ripple of shame went through me, because even though I knew he meant me harm, I craved his touch. He cupped my jaw and I closed my eyes, and then for the first time he spoke.

  “Open your eyes,” his low, rough voice worked like a balm inside of me, soothing some of the fear and dread. My eyes opened and I looked where I knew his were, and then he began to draw back the hood at the same time he whispered, “See me.”

  When the hood no longer hid his features from me, it was Shaw’s warm brown eyes that stared back at me, and I didn’t understand why more tears fell from mine. It was Shaw. My Spencer. I would be safe now. Then his hand, which had been so gentle, slid down to my throat. I shuddered and my lips parted on a breath. He leaned in and pressed his lips softly to mine at the same time his fingers curled around my neck. My tears came again, falling harder and faster as he kissed me. His fingers tightened and I could no longer breathe. He broke the kiss and I clawed at his hand, but it did no good. He held my gaze as he choked the life from me.

  I felt the fight leave me and my body went limp, but still I didn’t shut my eyes and give in to the darkness that was trying to pull me under. He lowered me to the ground on my back and followed me down, leaning over me, his hand still locked around my throat. Finally, when I couldn’t fight it any longer, I closed my eyes.