Lost in Bliss

by Sophie Oak

  She shook her head. Laura had attended many an autopsy, but

  never one on a person she’d known. She couldn’t imagine being

  forced to try to view Jana in clinical terms. Despite the trouble they

  had, they had been friends once. She just couldn’t see Jana that way.

  This was precisely why cops didn’t investigate crimes against their

  families or loved ones. Joe should have taken Rafe and Cam off the

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  case the minute he realized she was involved with them. “Just try to

  see if Caleb will get me a copy of his findings. I know it’s not

  protocol, but…”

  “Since when do we stand on protocol? You’ll have a copy as soon

  as he’s done.” Nate settled his hat on his head and led her through the

  double doors.

  The station was buzzing with activity.

  “Sheriff.” Hope, Nate’s secretary, stood up and greeted him. She

  was in her twenties, but she dressed much older. Laura and Holly had

  talked about the admin’s odd wardrobe choices. Today she was

  dressed in a long, shapeless skirt and a button-down brown shirt. The

  ensemble made her look heavier than Laura thought she was. Her

  dark hair was pulled into a ponytail, as it was every day. Her

  scrubbed-clean face was hidden behind large glasses. “Logan went

  back out to the crime site. He said the special agent in charge came in

  and asked him to take out extra evidence bags. They’re apparently

  trying to be very thorough.”

  Then she and Nate were alone. She would have preferred to have

  Logan here as well. Two bodyguards were better than one. It was

  broad daylight. Nothing was going to happen to her in a police

  station.

  Nate nodded at Hope. “I appreciate it. Is there anything else I

  should know?”

  “Your wife came by.”

  Nate’s face became thunderously fierce. “Callie left the cabin?

  She better have a damn good reason for leaving the cabin. I left

  explicit instructions that she was supposed to stay there with Zane.”

  Laura half expected the little mouse to run away, but Hope merely

  frowned at her boss. Her eyes rolled just slightly as though she was

  utterly used to her boss losing his temper. Maybe she wasn’t so shy.

  “Zane brought her in. They brought your lunch and a thermos of

  coffee. I believe they thought that since Stella’s was closed today, you might have a hard time finding something to eat. And not eating

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  makes you crankier than normal. It’s sitting on your desk. The special

  agent in charge used your office while you were gone. He had a call

  with DC. I hope it was okay. He didn’t really ask me. He just kind of

  told me he was going to do it.”

  “It’s fine. Damn, I hope these guys are gone soon. I want my

  station back. It’s too loud. And I haven’t been fishing all damn week.”

  Nate growled a little and opened the door to his office. “Where are

  they now?”

  “Special Agents Conrad and Lock are talking to the cameraman.”

  Hope motioned toward the back of the building where the small

  interview room was located. “It took them a while to get him to talk.

  He was trying to make a news story out of this.”

  Nate grimaced. “Asshole. I hate reporters. You go on into the

  break room and grab a cup of coffee. Take fifteen or twenty minutes

  to yourself, Hope. But you make damn sure there are people around,

  you understand? I’ll answer the radio.”

  Hope nodded gratefully and disappeared down the hallway.

  Laura walked into Nate’s office and sat down. She thought about

  calling Rafe up on the radio, but decided against it. She’d already

  talked to him, and she didn’t want to disrupt their work. The sooner

  they got done, the sooner they would come for her.

  Nate took off his hat and sat behind his desk. There was a paper

  sack and a thermos sitting in the middle. It spoke of sweet

  domesticity. She would have to make sure Cam had lunch when he

  started coming to work.

  The door opened again, and Brad Conrad stuck his head in. He

  was dressed in a perfectly pressed suit and tie. If he’d been in the

  field, he didn’t show it. Apparently Brad was one of those guys who

  didn’t get his hands dirty. He looked down at Laura. “You came in.”

  “I told you I wasn’t going to run again.” Was he the one she was

  running from? She rather thought not. Unless he was a spectacular

  actor. He seemed too emotionally undisciplined. Though he had asked

  her very leading questions. He’d seemed to delight in her discomfort.

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  “I heard you wanted to talk to me.”

  “Yes,” Brad replied. “We’ll get to you soon enough. Don’t leave

  the station. I don’t want to have to track you down.”

  Yeah, she kind of hoped it was that asshole.

  “Hey,” Nate called out to the special agent. Brad turned, his face

  bunched in an impatient frown. “Could you show her the letter?”

  “Sure. She should know what’s coming for her. It’s really just a

  whole bunch of quotes,” Brad explained.

  She could guess who the bastard was quoting. “From the Marquis

  de Sade?”

  “Dunno.” Brad held his hands up, impatience apparent in his

  stance. “Someone’s looking into it. It’s a bunch of crap about how

  morals are arbitrary and destruction is nature’s mandate. It’s all

  pretentious shit. I think this guy is stuck in a college phase.”

  “Just get her the letter,” Nate said, his eyes narrowing on the

  special agent.

  “I’ll see if Joe is still around. He’s been running all over today.

  It’s been hard to pin that man down. He has the letter.” Brad shut the

  door.

  Nate sighed and sat back in his chair. There was a weariness to the

  sheriff’s eyes. How hard had this been on him? Callie was pregnant,

  less than a month away from giving birth to their first child. Nate

  should be at home getting ready for his kid and taking care of his

  wife, but he was dealing with feds and autopsies and playing her

  bodyguard.

  “Nate, I’m so sorry about all of this.”

  “What?” Nate asked, clearly surprised. “Don’t you apologize.

  This is none of your doing. This is my job. I might complain some.

  Fine, I might complain a lot, but I love this town, and I’ll protect

  every citizen with my life. Except Max. I’ll protect him with my toe

  or some limb I’m not real attached to.”

  “Point taken.” She wasn’t alone.

  Nate reached out and grabbed his thermos, opening it. Laura was

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  immediately assaulted with the smell of coffee.

  “You want some?” Nate asked. “I can get you a cup. If I know my

  wife, it’s some froufrou flavor. She never just makes plain ordinary

  coffee even now that she can’t drink it. Zane has gotten just as bad as

  Callie. He claims he needs to push the taste envelope because he’s a

  restaurant owner. It’s a bar. He makes wings and burgers, not high-

  end coffee. What the h
ell does he know? Bullshit, I say. Coffee is best

  when it tastes a little like overused motor oil.”

  Laura leaned forward. “Do you drink a lot of overused motor oil,

  Sheriff?”

  He smiled, his handsome face splitting. “Maybe not, but I like a

  masculine coffee.” He took a long drink and grimaced slightly.

  “Vanilla.”

  “Then yes,” Laura replied. “I would love some. And I’m still

  hungry, so if you want to split that lunch of yours, I’ll take it. You

  closed down the only diner in town.”

  Nate frowned. He opened the bag. “It’s just a sandwich. I don’t

  know if that will feed me. Hope was right. I get cranky if I don’t have

  proper sustenance.”

  “Fine.” Nate Wright was a greedy bastard. She obviously wasn’t

  going to get anything out of him. “Do you mind if I use your

  bathroom? I still feel grubby.”

  He waved her toward the bathroom as he took a long drink of the

  coffee his wife had brought him. “Feel free. Apparently we have time.

  I tell you, I don’t like being on someone else’s timetable. I’m going to call over and see if Caleb’s gotten started.”

  On the autopsy. Laura stood and tried to approximate a smile.

  “Okay. You do that. Rafe and Cam should be here soon.”

  She turned and walked into Nate’s private bathroom. She closed

  the door behind her and took a long, deep breath. The events of the

  week crashed over her. She choked back tears. She couldn’t lose it

  now. Later, when Rafe and Cam were surrounding her, she could lose

  it, but now she had to keep her composure.

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  She walked to the window. Fresh air. Nate’s office had a window

  with a broken lock allowing for the pane to open. Laura opened it and

  breathed in the cool air. Despite the fact that it was summer, the

  mornings were still cool. She let her head rest against the sill.

  She had to find the strength to get through this. She wasn’t alone,

  and she wasn’t walking away this time. She wouldn’t leave her home.

  Never again.

  She straightened up. As she went to close the window, she noticed

  a car in the alleyway. It was a big, black SUV. One of the feds. Damn it. Now they couldn’t be bothered to park in the lot?

  Why wouldn’t they park in the lot? There was plenty of parking in

  the front and side of the building. The alley was narrow, and anyone

  who parked there would have to walk all the way around the building

  to get to the front. Not to mention if Nate saw it, he would ticket the

  person who parked there.

  A cold chill went across her skin. It was illogical, unless the

  person didn’t want anyone to know the car was here.

  “Nate,” Laura called out. She leaned over the sill trying to see if

  she could get the plate number off the car. It was almost surely a

  rental, but at least they could tell who had rented it. “Nate, get in here.

  You need to see this.”

  The door to the bathroom opened. Laura turned to give Nate a

  chance to look out the window.

  Brad Conrad stood in the doorway. “You need to come with me.”

  Laura shrank back. She couldn’t miss the look in Brad’s eyes or

  the gun he held. Primitive fear threatened to take over. She pushed it

  back and tried to figure a way out. If she tried to get out the window,

  he’d be on her before she could get through. She would fit through the

  window, but she’d land face first and have to scramble to get up. Then

  there was another problem.

  “What did you do to Nate?” Nate Wright wouldn’t have allowed

  this asshole to walk in. Her stomach rolled. Please don’t let Nate be

  dead. He was so close to having his family with Callie and Zane. She

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  couldn’t even think about it.

  Brad frowned. “I didn’t do anything, but he’s out cold. Look,

  Laura, you’re coming with me. I’m sorry, but I can’t take no for an

  answer.”

  He reached out to grab her, and Laura feinted to her left. She

  punched out with her right hand, catching him in the jaw. Brad

  groaned, and Laura pushed her way around him. He fell back, hitting

  his head hard against the sink. The sound thudded through the room,

  and Laura couldn’t miss the blood that started to pool around Brad’s

  head. She shoved her way out of the door and froze at the sight in

  front of her.

  Joseph Stone slipped from the small closet behind Nate’s desk, a

  Taser in his hands.

  And Laura realized she’d made a deadly mistake.

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  Chapter Eighteen

  “You’re certain?” Rafe asked, his heart racing as he put the SUV

  in reverse and jammed his foot on the gas. He was pretty sure he

  hadn’t locked the motel door, but it didn’t matter.

  Nothing mattered except getting to Laura.

  Cam clicked his seat belt into place and turned to Rafe, gesturing

  toward the computer. “It’s right here. I know it’s not conclusive, but

  this is it. This is what we’ve been looking for. The lipstick connects

  the cases. Purple Passion. The lipstick is listed in the evidence log for Marla Stone’s suicide. Joe’s wife is the connection. She’s wearing the

  same lipstick that the Marquis de Sade puts on all his victims. That

  can’t be a coincidence. Tell me you think I’m wrong. Tell me Laura

  isn’t in the same building with the man who almost killed her.”

  “It was a suicide.” Rafe said the words, but he no longer believed

  them.

  “I don’t think so. I think she’s the first.” Cam still had his laptop

  up and running. He struggled a little to keep the thing steady. “She slit her wrists. Damn. And she was pregnant according to the autopsy.

  She said in her suicide note—which was typed and unsigned—that

  she couldn’t handle what she had done and called herself a whore.

  The police concluded she’d been having an affair with a coworker.”

  Rafe let his eyes close briefly. “That’s why he tortured the victims

  with shallow wounds to their lower abdomen. That was probably what

  he wanted to do to her the first time, but Joe has always been a

  disciplined bastard. He planned it. He knew he couldn’t get away with

  torturing her, so he staged a suicide, but he couldn’t let it go. The first victim was killed a year after Marla, and every six to seven months

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  after, he killed again. He was killing her over and over again.”

  “That would be my take on it,” Cam replied. “And after we found

  the first couple of victims and the news reports started, he couldn’t

  help himself. He had to control his image. He needed more than just

  the killing. He needed the attention. He asked for our team to be

  assigned to this case, you know.”

  “I remember it well.” Rafe remembered how Joe had gone over all

  the evidence the DC metro police had found before deciding it was a

  serial case and calling in the Bureau. He’d thought Joe was excited

  about taking on a big case. The bastard had talked about how smart

  the killer was. He went on and on about how hard it would b
e to catch

  this one. At the time, Rafe had taken it as Joe issuing a challenge to

  his team.

  Joseph Stone had been bragging.

  Cam broke through Rafe’s thoughts. Fingers flew across the

  keyboard in a flurry. “It gets worse. Did you know Joe had a brother?

  He’s in a mental institution and has been for years. He was discovered

  torturing animals and was accused of raping a neighborhood girl. Do

  you know who the star witness was in his trial?”

  “Joe, I’m sure.”

  “His brother’s IQ is under 80. It would have been easy for Joe to

  make him the scapegoat. The girl didn’t see who it was because the

  attacker wore a mask, but forensics led to someone from next door.

  Apparently Joe’s mother had some rare plants in her home that

  tracked to the crime scene. Joe gave up his brother. Joe testified that

  he’d covered his brother’s violent streak for years. The fucker was

  seventeen years old. And his father divorced his mother for cheating

  on him. God, what a pattern.”

  For the normal person, it was a pattern that would lead to

  bitterness and a host of self-destructive tendencies. But with that rare person, it led to focusing the rage outward. Joe was a super predator.

  The tendency had always been there. Rafe knew the story well. Most

  serial killers had similar stories. Joe had undoubtedly been the one to

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  torture animals as a kid. Joe had been the one to rape his neighbor.

  He’d been lucky that there was an easy scapegoat, or Joe would have

  been discovered. Rafe could guess how things had gone after that

  close call. Joe had hidden his monster for years until the inciting

  incident—discovering his wife was pregnant with another man’s

  child. Then he couldn’t hold it in any longer. The fact that he’d

  planned his wife’s death was a testament to Joe’s discipline.

  If Joe intended to kill Laura, he would have an excellent plan in

  place.

  Cam was staring at the screen as though he couldn’t believe what

  he was seeing. “He’s hidden this for years. Do you think he laughed

  the whole time we were profiling the Marquis de Sade?”

  “I bet he did,” Rafe replied.

  He’d never known the man. He’d worked beside him for years,