The Perfect Ten Boxed Set

by Dianna Love

  “Good. I want him to make some mistakes that will help us catch him.”

  “Jennifer, why do you think he focused on you? He broke into your home to leave Catherine’s cell phone. And at great risk, he tried to get to you in the hospital,” said Carly.

  “I don’t know, and believe me, I’ve thought about it. Until Evan Hendricks’ shooting, the media did not connect my name with the case. So how could he know I was assigned to it?”

  After a moment, Carly said, “Please take extra precautions for your safety. He will come for you again, sooner than later.”

  “Don’t worry about me. Despite what my dad and Blake may think, I can take care of myself.”

  “If I were you, I wouldn’t take any walks by myself in your area parks anytime soon,” joked Carly half-heartedly. She didn’t want to think about anything happening to Jennifer. It would destroy her brother.

  “Wish you could stay longer so we could spend more time together,” Jennifer lamented.

  “That makes two of us. Maybe you and Blake could fly to Florida when all this is over.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “Before we hang up, Jennifer, I have to ask you to promise to do something.”

  “What?”

  “Tell my brother you’re in love with him. He needs to know.”

  ***

  Tim got out of his car and had his keys out to open the back door when he realized it was standing ajar. That’s odd. But he dismissed the tingling in the back of his neck by reasoning Megan may have gone to the garage for something, and thought she’d closed and locked the door. Tim slipped into the kitchen and called out for Megan. He noticed the food on the counter, rolled up a piece of turkey, and bit off a chunk. Wandering into the front of the house, he noticed the darkened living room.

  “Megan, I’m home. Hey, what’s going on in the living room? We never have the blinds closed.” His wife loved sunlight. As soon as she woke up in the morning, she opened the blinds and draperies on every window in the house. The only time they were closed was at night, and that time she was in the hospital with her heart attack.

  He stepped into the foyer where he noticed the front door was unlocked. Hell, Megan was more security-conscious than he was. First the back door, now the front? There was no way she’d leave either door unlocked. He froze. The alarm slammed into his stomach like a gut-punch. Something was very, very wrong. He pulled out his service weapon.

  “Megan! Where are you?” he shouted as he raced up the stairs to the second level. He continued to shout Megan’s name as he checked each bedroom and bathroom without finding her.

  Tim sprinted down the stairs to the first floor, to the den, then the family room where the flat-screen TV above the fireplace was on, but no Megan. He ran back to the kitchen, glancing at the items lining the counter.

  Dashing out the back door, he went to the garage and hoisted up the door. Megan’s car was still inside. After searching the back yard, Tim went to the front, looking up and down the sidewalk.

  He moved to Don and Nicole French’s house next door and pounded on the door. When Don answered, he asked, “Have you seen Megan?”

  “No, but I’ve been working in the basement on a new bookcase all morning.” He called out for his wife who came to the door.

  Nicole smiled when she saw who was at the front door. “Hi, Tim. Good to see you.”

  Her husband slipped his arm around her. “Honey, have you seen Megan this morning? Tim’s looking for her.”

  “I haven’t seen Megan, but I noticed you had a visitor earlier,” Nicole began.

  “Visitor?” asked Tim.

  “Yes, I was doing the dishes and looking out my back window when I saw a truck pull in your driveway,” she said. “I only noticed it because I wondered why he backed so far up in your driveway, almost up to the garage door. It may have been nothing, but usually visitors to either of our houses park in front. The only people who park that close to the garage are Jennifer and you. Like I said, it was probably nothing.”

  “What kind of vehicle was it?” asked Tim, his heart in his throat.

  “Now I’m not good with cars,” Nicole paused, looking at her husband. “But I think it looked like the same thing Buck drives.”

  “My brother, Buck, drives a Jeep,” offered Don.

  A quick and disturbing thought hit Tim. “What color was it?”

  “It was brown and tan.”

  Tim flew to his car, his heart racing as he punched Lane’s number into his cell.

  “The killer has Megan!”

  ***

  Upstairs in Forensics, Blake impatiently drummed his fingers on Karen Katz’s desk while he waited for her phone conversation to end. Once it did, she reached for a file on her desk.

  “Hey, Blake. I know why you’re here.” Karen said as she brushed her long bangs out of her eyes.

  “Did you get results on the latent print on the hypodermic?”

  “Sure did.”

  His heart in his throat, Blake asked, “Past offender?” With the number of murders under his belt, this guy had to have been arrested for something in his past.

  “Nope. This guy’s prints were only in the system because he works for the Indiana Department of National Resources in the Division of State Parks and Reservoirs.”

  “Shit! Who is he?”

  “Damon Mason,” Karen declared.

  “Dick Mason’s son? Are you sure?” Blake asked in disbelief. Even as Karen nodded, his mind raced. How could a twenty-year detective on the force have a son who would commit these heinous acts? He searched his memory to the day of Dick’s funeral, which was the last time he saw Damon. He seemed cold and stoic, but Damon never left his father’s casket. Blake remembered telling Damon how sorry he was about his loss and that his dad was a good man.

  Just then, Karen’s supervisor called her to his office. Still stunned, Blake sat in Karen’s guest chair, thinking about Carly’s profile of the killer, and how she’d said he’d be very familiar with the area parks. Well, Damon Mason worked in them every day. The son of a bitch used the local parks, meant for recreation, as a hunting ground for young women. He was everything Carly described: good-looking, athletic, normal, and unthreatening.

  But was he jumping to conclusions? That Damon was the man who attacked Jennifer in the hospital didn’t mean he was a serial killer. Did it?

  Blake pulled out his cell phone and dialed the State Parks and Reservoirs human resources director he’d talked to the night before.

  “Barry, this is Blake Stone. We talked last night. I need your help, and please don’t make me get a subpoena to get it. Time is of the essence.”

  “I heard you found Brianna’s body,” Barry murmured sympathetically. “Do we agree the information we discuss didn’t come from me?”

  “Agreed. You employ a conservation officer by the name of Damon Mason. What can you tell me about him?”

  “Hold on a second while I find his file.” Blake heard some papers rustling, then Barry returned to the phone. “Here it is. What do you want to know?”

  “How long has he worked for you?”

  “Looks like about six months.”

  A muscle flicked in his jaw as Blake gripped his cell and asked, “Does he drive tan and brown Jeep?”

  “Sure. All the conservation officers have them.”

  “What about ATVs? Does he have access to them?”

  “Sure. Of course he does.”

  Sickened, Blake shook his head as he thought about how easy it was for Damon to get the bodies back into the park using an ATV with a cart, driving the service roads. Even if he had been seen, people wouldn’t give a conservation officer on an ATV a second thought. Just like the night he used one when he abducted Tiffany Chase.

  “Do you have his resume in the file to see where he worked before coming here?”

  After a moment, Barry said, “His resume lists his last job in a state park in Ohio where he worked for five years.”

  �
�Where he murdered five women...”

  ***

  Ending the call, Blake flew out of the room and bounded down the stairs so he could tell Lane that Damon Mason was their killer. He got to Lane’s office but the door was closed and his admin wasn’t at her desk. This couldn’t wait, he thought as he burst through the door. Lane and Tim sat at Lane’s small conference table. Fatigue was settling in pockets under Tim’s eyes and he looked upset.

  “What’s going on?” Blake asked Tim.

  “The killer has Megan and I don’t even know where to start looking since we don’t know who the bastard is.”

  “Yes, we do,” blurted Blake.

  Chapter Ten

  Jennifer poured hot coffee into her mug then snagged a homemade chocolate-chip cookie baked by one of the deputy’s wives. She chatted with Joey Fields, one of the new recruits, who also nabbed a cookie, declaring there were absolutely no calories in it.

  As Jennifer got closer to her cubicle, she realized her desk phone was ringing so she hastened to get it.

  “Jennifer Brennan.”

  “Jennifer, this is Damon Mason.”

  Jennifer rolled her eyes. She still hadn’t shaken her initial negative impression of Damon. And she’d tried because she’d cared so much about his father. She picked up her pen to doodle on a notepad, which she usually did when she was on the phone.

  “What can I do for you?” she asked.

  “I just found something my father left for you.” His voice sounded breathless like he had run into the room to call her.

  “Your dad left something for me?” That was odd. Why was she just now hearing about it?

  “Yes, I just found it while I was looking through his things,” Damon explained. “I think you’ll want to see it right away.”

  “See what? What did Dick leave for me?”

  “It’s a letter addressed to you. I found it taped under one of his dresser drawers. The outside of the envelope says that you must read the letter inside immediately following his death.”

  “Oh, my God,” Jennifer exclaimed. Thinking of her old partner made tears well up in her eyes. She still missed him terribly. “Where are you, Damon?”

  “I’m at Dad’s house. His attorney told me this morning that Dad left it to me. I was going through his things when I found the letter. You’ll come to read it, won’t you? I have this feeling it’s important.”

  “Yes, I’ll be there soon.” Jennifer hung up the phone, grabbed her purse and walked around the corner to tell Blake. He wasn’t at his desk. She looked toward Lane’s office and noticed the door was closed. Maybe Blake was with him.

  Blake was going to have a fit when he found out she went out alone, but damn it, she was a trained officer. She could take care of herself.

  Finding a pen on his desk, Jennifer wrote him a short note saying she had an errand to run, and would be back soon.

  ***

  Tim, Lane, and Blake studied a map of Deer Run State Park. Blake used a marker to circle the cabin where Barry said Damon Mason lived.

  “It will take up to sixty minutes to deploy the on-duty and off-duty officers on the SWAT team. Depending on the traffic, and factoring in the curves in the road, it should take the SWAT team a maximum of twenty additional minutes to reach Damon’s cabin,” said Lane.

  “Deploy them! And tell Andy to get the copter ready.” said Tim. If Damon Mason had Megan, Tim needed to get her checked out at the hospital as soon as he could. With her heart condition, he could take no chances. And if the son of a bitch hurt her, he’d pay.

  Adrenalin rushing through them, Tim and Blake raced from Lane’s office to put on their Kevlar vests and grab their protective helmets, while Lane did the same. They’d go up in the copter while Lane directed the SWAT team from the ground.

  In his cubicle, Blake ripped off his jacket and put on the Kevlar vest. He was about to call out for Jennifer when he noticed a post-it note stuck to his phone. He pulled it off and saw it was a message from Jennifer. Gone to do an errand? She couldn’t be serious. What was it about laying low did she not understand? That’s just what the killer wanted, for Jennifer to be out-and-about alone. Damn it.

  Blake fished his cell phone out of his pants’ pocket and dialed her number. As he listened, he heard a ringing sound from the other side of the cubicles. He walked to the other side and stopped when he got to Jennifer’s office. Her cell phone was ringing from where it was lying on top of her desk.

  Blake called dispatch to page Jennifer. “If she doesn’t respond, send out a BOLO for her. Tell deputies to stop her car and get in contact with me immediately. Her life may be in danger.”

  Blake headed for the stairwell and he raced up to the roof to the helicopter pad.

  ***

  Jennifer turned onto County Road 47, slowing down to adjust to driving on the gravel road. She couldn’t imagine what Dick would have wanted to tell her in a letter. He wasn’t a letter-writing kind of guy. Most of the time, she couldn’t even get him to use email to communicate at work.

  The last time she’d traveled this gravel road was the day they’d found Dick Mason, dead, his house filled with carbon monoxide fumes. The thought of Dick feeling so lost that he’d taken his own life filled Jennifer with sadness, and her eyes welled with unshed tears.

  Jennifer pulled into Dick’s driveway and thought she saw someone standing in the living room picture window. But when she looked again, there was no one there. As she drove closer, she noticed a tan and brown vehicle parked in Dick’s open garage. The word “Jeep” was written in large letters in the center of the black spare tire cover. A dark, ominous thought flashed in her brain. A tan and brown Jeep was the vehicle John Isaac saw parked along the road by his property the night Brianna Hayden disappeared.

  Her heart skipped a beat as she remembered Carly’s profile. The killer was very familiar with the areas parks and recreation areas. Who would be more familiar than a conservation officer? Her hand resting on her holstered Glock, Jennifer quietly opened her driver’s side door and crept into the garage. Painted on the Jeep’s door was a logo for the Division of State Parks and Reservoirs. Oh, my God. The killer couldn’t be Damon, could it? Not Dick’s son.

  She had to call Blake and get back-up. Jennifer patted each of her pockets. Where was her cell phone? She swung around to search for it in the SUV and slammed into the hard wall of Damon Mason’s chest.

  “What are you doing out here?” asked Damon.

  “Oh, nothing. Just wondering where Dick’s car was.”

  He responded quickly. “Sold it at auction about a month ago.”

  “Oh, that explains it.”

  “Does it?” He eyeballed her suspiciously as he pulled his service revolver out of his holster, pointing it at her. “I’ll take your gun, Jennifer.”

  Jennifer hesitated, weighing her options.

  “Now!” he shouted. “Pull it out slowly, place it on the ground, then gently slide it over to me with your foot.”

  Jennifer bit her lip, slid her Glock out of her holster, and did what he asked. What choice did she have?

  “So what’s going on, Damon?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough. Go into the house.” Holding his gun against her back, he pushed her up the porch steps and through the open front door. He closed and locked the door behind him. “Oh, I nearly forgot. We have another guest that I’m sure you’ll want to see.”

  Jennifer arched her eyebrow questioningly. “Who?”

  Instead of answering he shoved her toward the kitchen. In the center of the room, on a long oaken table, lay her mother, fully clothed, but unconscious and restrained with duct tape.

  “Mom!” she screamed. She ran to her mother’s side, pulling at the duct tape so she could get to her wrist to check her pulse. “You fucking monster, what have you done to her?!”

  “Better watch yourself, Jennifer. You don’t want to get me angry.”

  “Why is she unconscious? What did you do to her?” she demanded as tears s
hot from her eyes.

  He just smirked and shrugged his shoulders.

  “You injected her with Rohypnol, didn’t you? How much did you give her? She has a heart condition.” Jennifer ripped at the duct tape on her mother’s wrist with her long fingernails until she could free one arm. She pressed her fingers on Megan’s wrist to find a pulse. She found one but it was very slow.

  Jennifer glared at Damon and said, “We need to get her to a hospital. She’s had a heart attack before, and I don’t know how the drug is affecting her.”

  “Sounds like you have a problem, Jennifer,” Damon said. “Now get your ass to the living room so we can have a talk. Then later, I’ll see if a good beating with a belt will wake Mommy. You can watch.”

  ***

  Blake and Tim watched from the police helicopter overhead as Lane reviewed Damon Mason’s background and suspected offenses — as well as the layout of the area surrounding his cabin — with his SWAT team. He also laid out two contingency plans to capture Damon Mason, one with hostages, and one without. Equipped with their weaponry, they got into a black van and headed toward Deer Run State Park.

  Flying ahead, the police helicopter was approaching Deer Run State Park when Blake’s cell phone vibrated.

  “Blake, this is Ginny from Dispatch with an update on your BOLO request. We have not been able to locate Jennifer Brennan.”

  “Thanks, Ginny. Tell them to keep looking.”

  “What’s that all about?” asked Tim.

  “Jennifer left me a note at the office, telling me she’d gone out for an errand. I tried calling her, but she’d forgotten her cell phone at the office. I put a BOLO on her, but no one has found her yet.”

  “So you’re telling me that my wife and only daughter are missing?” Tim raked his fingers through his hair. The women he held most dear were gone — both at risk from a serial killer who would not think twice about snuffing out their lives.

  ***

  Following them from the air, Blake and Tim watched as the van carrying the SWAT team parked off the road about a half-mile from the cabin. The officers jumped from the van and crept through surrounding wooded area until they were able to form a perimeter around the cabin.