“With Benjamin quitting in the spring I’m sure we could use you, but are you sure you don’t want to go back to the FBI? You could. Your supervisor has kept in touch with me.”
Jacob once again looked at Tom, this time in surprise. “He has?”
“He was worried about you and told me that when you were ready to let you know you still have a job there if you want it.”
Jacob digested this information and then shook his head. “No, as much as I appreciate knowing that, I won’t go back. I’m not cut out for the kind of work I was doing. I allow myself to get too emotionally involved.”
“That particular trait is highly desired in one of my deputies,” Tom replied. “You know there’s nothing we’d all like better than to have you here. But I wanted you to know that you have options.”
“Thanks,” he replied, but he’d already made up his mind that he wanted to stay in Black Rock. He hadn’t realized how homesick he’d been until he’d come back here. He hadn’t recognized the depth of his loneliness in Kansas City until he’d returned here to the warmth and caring of his family.
He knew that if he went back to the FBI he’d immerse himself in his work and would probably never build a life that included a real home and family. He was stunned to realize he wanted that.
He wanted a woman to come home to, somebody who would force him to eat breakfast because it was the most important meal of the day, somebody who would warm his nights and brighten his days. He wanted a woman who talked too much and loved high-heeled shoes, a woman exactly like Layla.
As he turned into the long winding driveway of the Norwood place, he shoved everything out of his head except the investigation.
On paper Larry Norwood looked the least likely to be a serial killer. He was a successful businessman with a wife and two children and was well-respected in the community. But Jacob reminded himself that John Wayne Gacy had been a beloved and respected member of his community who dressed up like a clown to entertain his friends and neighbors, and he’d killed thirty-three young men and boys.
The killer’s profile was only as good as the paper it was written on and there was always room for error.
The Norwood home was a small, neat ranch. A bright red barn sat near the house, along with a gardening shed. Beyond the house was a rolling rise of pasture.
The barn was too close to the main residence to house the missing women, Jacob thought as he parked the car and turned off the engine.
“This doesn’t look promising,” he muttered.
“If nothing else, after this interview ‘Norwood’ is a name we can cross off our list of potential suspects,” Tom reminded him.
The two men got out of the truck and Jacob felt the bite of the cold north wind. The slight respite they’d had of winter weather that had quickly melted the snow was gone, replaced by the promise of another storm soon to arrive.
Tension twisted Jacob’s gut as he and Tom approached the house. They needed answers and he felt as if they were spinning their wheels while time ran out for the victims.
Tom knocked on the door and as they waited for a reply Jacob once again scanned the immediate area. The barn door was open, indicating that there were probably no secrets inside. He turned back to face the door as it opened.
An attractive blonde offered them a tentative smile. Two little girls peeked out from behind her. “Sheriff Grayson, didn’t Larry call you?”
“Call me about what?” Tom asked.
“He got an emergency call about a sick horse and had to leave. He said he was going to let you know.” She looked from Tom to Jacob. “He must have forgotten. I’m sorry about the inconvenience.”
“Do you know who called him about the horse?” Jacob asked.
She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry I don’t.” She hesitated a moment, and then continued. “Would you like to come in and wait for him?” It was obvious she was uncomfortable with the idea of the two men coming inside.
“We’ll just hang out in the truck for a little while and see if he shows up,” Tom replied. “If he happens to check in with you would you get his location for us?”
“Of course. I’m sure he won’t be too long.” With another smile she closed the door and Jacob heard the click of a lock being turned.
“You can’t blame her for being cautious,” Jacob said as they walked back to the truck. “For all she knows we’re the men who are responsible for the disappearances of the women. Just because we have a badge doesn’t mean we’re the good guys.”
Once they were in the truck Jacob looked at his watch. “Maybe I should call Layla and let her know I’m going to be later than I thought.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and punched in the numbers to her cell phone, then frowned as it went directly to her voice mail.
“No answer?” Tom asked as Jacob hung up.
“It went to her voice mail.” An uneasy tension began to build inside him.
“She and Portia are probably in the middle of shopping or talking and Layla didn’t hear the phone,” Tom said as if to assure Jacob.
“Maybe.” Jacob punched in the numbers to the phone inside the cabin, but hung up after it rang four times without an answer. Surely Tom was right. She was with Portia and hadn’t yet made it to the cabin. He hoped that was the case, for any other scenario was absolutely unthinkable.
Chapter 11
Layla screamed as the man advanced on her. She turned and ran from the kitchen, terror shouting in her head as her heart raced frantically.
She knew there was no place to hide in either the living room or the bedroom, so she headed for the bath room, where she could at least lock the door.
She flew into the small room, twisted the lock and only then released the sob of horror that had welled up inside her. If she could just stay safe until Jacob got home.
Confusion played in her mind. She’d been so certain that Larry Norwood was The Professional, but Jacob and Tom were interviewing Larry, so he couldn’t be the man in the house. So who had broken in the back door? Who was behind that mask?
A loud bang resounded on the bathroom door and a scream once again clawed up her throat. She stared at the door, her entire body suffused with a trembling that kept her frozen in place.
“Come out, come out, Layla,” a deep voice called from the other side of the door.
Instantly she was cast back in time. She was a little girl hiding under the porch, hoping and praying that she wouldn’t be found. The trembling inside her grew more intense and she slid down the wall as tears began to flow down her cheeks.
Don’t let him get me, a childish voice whispered urgently in her head. Please don’t let him get me. Ancient fear mixed with present terror, making it difficult for her to draw a breath, to think clearly.
She tried to think of what she’d done to garner his violence. Had she washed the dishes wrong? Had her bed not been made properly? She’d tried so hard to be good, but it was never good enough.
She shook her head. No, this wasn’t about her father. This was about The Professional. There was no sound on the other side of the door. Rather than the silence making her feel better, it horrified her.
What was he doing? Surely he wouldn’t just give up so easily and just go away. Her sobs halted as she caught her breath and waited in dreadful anticipation. Every nerve in her body screamed. Every muscle she possessed tensed.
A bang sounded on the door and the wood in the center cracked, exposing an ax blade. Layla jumped to her feet in panicked horror.
She fought through her fear, knowing that if she froze she was dead, that if she stopped thinking she would be his last victim. The window!
With adrenaline-fueled strength she raced to the small window and gasped in relief as it slid open easily. As the ax slammed into the door again and again she punched out the screen and began to climb outside.
She almost made it. Her upper body was outside when he crashed into the bathroom and grabbed one of her legs. She kicked and twisted to get free, una
ble to summon the strength to scream again as she fought to get free.
She kicked so hard she felt as if she’d thrown her leg out of the socket, but she was rewarded by a gruff grunt and suddenly she was free and falling to the ground.
Run!
She hit the frozen earth hard, her breath whooshing out of her. She got to her feet and took off, praying she could get to Benjamin and Edie’s house before the masked man caught her.
She’d gone only a few feet when she realized she’d lied to Jacob. There were some things she couldn’t do in high heels, like run fast enough to escape a serial killer. She kicked off the shoes, not breaking her pace as she ran for her life.
His laughter rang in the air, far too close behind her. Tears blurred her vision as the cold ground froze her bare feet. Don’t look, her mind screamed. Don’t waste the time to turn and look behind you.
She didn’t look but she felt him, felt the malevolence rolling off him as he closed the gap between them. She wasn’t going to make it. Sobs ripped inside her chest. She wasn’t going to get to safety.
He grabbed her then, pulled her down by the shoulders. Once again she hit the ground and rolled, still trying to get some distance from him.
He jumped on her, laughing once again as if it were all nothing more than a game to him. “That’s it, fight me,” he exclaimed as he managed to straddle her chest with her arms trapped beneath his legs. “There’s nothing I love better than a good fight.”
She would have continued to fight, but at that moment she recognized his voice. She’d been right. “Larry? Larry, what are you doing?”
Without warning he slapped her, the blow ringing bells in her ears and scorching her cheek with stinging heat. “My name is The Professional and don’t you forget it.”
Layla watched in horror as he pulled a hypodermic needle from his pocket. “Please, no,” she begged, even though she knew her pleas would fall on deaf ears.
The sting of the needle in her arm was nothing compared to the ache in her heart as she thought of Jacob. She’d never see him again. She’d never know the glory of being held in his arms, of tasting his lips against hers just one last time.
It was over. This was the end. Her life was over and it was Jacob’s beautiful face that filled her mind as darkness overwhelmed her.
Jacob checked his watch for the tenth time in twenty minutes and then sighed in frustration. “I say we go home and arrange to meet Dr. Norwood another time. For all we know it could be hours before he gets back here.”
“You’re right,” Tom said, sounding as defeated as Jacob felt. “I’ll call him in the morning and see if we can meet with him then.”
Jacob nodded. He was eager to get back to the cabin. He’d tried to call Layla several more times but she hadn’t answered.
A thrum of anxiety had begun inside him and with each minute that passed it grew more intense. The only reason he wasn’t completely in panic mode was because he’d tried to call Portia and she hadn’t answered her phone, either. He could only assume it was possible the two were still together and had their phones buried in their purses or shut off altogether.
“You know the number of Portia’s daycare?” he asked Tom. “I’ll call there and see if maybe they haven’t even left there yet.”
Tom rattled off the number and Jacob called. “Portia,” he exclaimed with a sense of relief when she answered. “It’s Jacob. Can I talk to Layla?”
“She isn’t here, Jacob,” Portia replied with a touch of unease in her voice. “I dropped her at the cabin about thirty minutes ago.”
A new sense of urgency swept through him. “Thanks.” He clicked off and shoved the truck into gear. “Something’s wrong at the cabin. Portia said she dropped Layla off thirty minutes ago.”
He roared down the road that led away from the Norwood farm, his heart stuttering wildly in his chest. Why wasn’t she answering her phone? What the hell was going on?
“Don’t jump to conclusions,” Tom said. “Maybe she’s in the shower or taking a nap and hasn’t heard the phone.”
“Maybe.” Jacob tightened his hands on the steering wheel. He didn’t believe she was showering or napping. All his instincts were screaming that Layla was in trouble. Jesus, he should have left the Norwood place the first time he’d called and been unable to reach her.
Ignoring the legal limits he stomped on the gas pedal, wishing he had wings to fly at the speed of sound. Tom said nothing and for that Jacob was grateful. He didn’t want to listen to all the logical reasons why Layla wasn’t answering the phone. He just wanted to get to her as quickly as possible.
“I wonder what kind of a horse emergency kept Norwood from the appointment?” Tom finally said.
Jacob shot him a quick, questioning glance. “You think there wasn’t an emergency?”
Tom released a sigh of frustration. “I don’t know what in the hell I think anymore.”
Jacob’s mind raced over everything he knew, everything he thought he knew about the killer. “In one of our phone conversations he told me I was as tenacious as a terrier. Sounds like a comparison a vet would use.”
“That’s speculation, not evidence,” Tom reminded him.
Where was Larry Norwood? Was he really dealing with a sick horse or was he at the cabin now with Layla, planning his final move in the Black Rock area?
“I don’t get it. Why would he blow off an interview with us when he knows we’re going to check his alibi?” Tom said. “He knows he’s on our radar, so why would he take chances like that?”
“I don’t know. I can’t think about it right now.” As Jacob turned onto the Grayson property, the tension in his stomach twisted so tight he felt sick.
They flew past the big house, rocking over bumps in the lane as Jacob scarcely let up on the gas. He braked hard in front of the cabin, his heart pounding in dread as he then flew out of the truck.
Before he reached the porch he saw something bright and colorful lying on the ground on the side of the cabin. On leaden feet, his heart pounding so hard it hurt, he walked over and stared down at the pink-and-yellow-flowered high heel. He spied the second shoe nearby.
The ground spun beneath him and bile rose up in the back of his throat. No. The single word repeated itself over and over in his head. Had the shoes fallen off her feet as she’d been carried away by The Professional or had she taken them off to run? There was no way she’d just tossed the shoes outside for no reason.
Too late. The words pealed in his head like a bell gone mad. Too late. He was too late to save her, just like he’d been too late to save the others. “She’s gone.” The words fell like stones from his lips. It was his worst nightmare come true and he didn’t know how to awaken from it.
Tom grabbed him by the arm. “Come on, let’s check inside.”
Both men drew their guns as they approached the cabin, even though in his heart Jacob knew The Professional wouldn’t be inside. He was already planning his party, with Layla and Brittany as guests of honor.
When Jacob saw the shattered bathroom door and the ax lying on the floor next to it, he nearly fell to his knees in agony.
He couldn’t imagine Layla’s terror. A fine mist covered his sight as he thought of the utter fear she must have experienced. And he hadn’t been here for her.
Damn him. Damn Larry Norwood and his sick, twisted mind. An edge of anger began to grow inside Jacob. He wouldn’t blink if he got the opportunity to kill him.
It was easy to understand the chronology of events by the evidence left behind. He’d come through the back door. Layla must have run to the bathroom. The open window there indicated that she’d managed to crawl out and run, but she hadn’t been able to run fast enough to escape her pursuer.
Numb. Jacob was numb as he and his brother stood in the kitchen and Tom called for help. He’d get men there to process the scene and others to search for Layla.
Jacob’s gaze fell on the notebook laid open on the table. Layla’s journal. He frowned. She never le
ft it laying out where he could thumb through it. It was always in her purse.
He took a step closer and his heart nearly stopped once again as he read the words on the page. Larry Norwood. Missing button. Lab coat.
“Get somebody to Larry’s office to collect all his lab coats,” he told Tom, the numbness gone as he realized Layla had given them the clue they needed. It was all circumstantial, but it was enough for him to know that the friendly town vet was The Professional. “It’s Larry.”
Tom looked at the journal and a knot pulsed in his jaw. “Now all we have to do is find him before he kills anyone.”
Flashbacks shot through Jacob’s head, visions of dead women who would haunt him in some measure for the rest of his life. As Layla’s face superimposed over the features of one of those women, he felt as if he’d been punched in the gut with a killing blow.
It was at that moment he realized the depth of his love for Layla, and what he feared more than anything was that he’d be too late for her, too. To make matters worse, it had begun to snow again.
Brittany sat up as the masked man carried in Layla West and placed the unconscious woman on the cot in the last cell. Her heart cried in anguish.
The cells were all full now and she knew that meant death wasn’t far behind. She got up from her cot and grabbed the bars that held her prisoner as the man locked Layla’s enclosure.
“My brothers will kill you for this,” she said as he walked back toward the door.
He laughed. “Your brothers couldn’t find a hole in the bottom of their socks.” He pulled off his ski mask and she gasped in surprise as she realized it was Dr. Norwood.
She’d had little interaction with the vet before being taken by him. She also knew that he’d taken off the mask and allowed her to see who he was because he was certain there was no rescue for her or the others, that none of them would live to identify him to the authorities.
“They’ll never stop looking for you,” she replied with a lift of her chin. “They’ll hunt you to the ends of the earth.”
Special Agent's Surrender Page 13
