Rob put him in the back of the cruiser. “I drove by the bookstore and Tammy was there with a dozen customers. McNaughton brought the list of people he told about Tammy’s astrology project by. You should sit at a desk and make some calls until I’m certain you’re okay.”
Aiden didn’t argue. There wasn’t a point. When Rob made up his mind, there was nothing to do but comply. And a couple of hours of desk duty sounded okay. His head was pounding, and he needed some time to figure out what had happened.
Chapter Eight
The afternoon rushed by with the bell over the bookstore door jangling merrily with each arrival and departure. Tammy watched the cash register totals exceed her highest hopes, and she pushed aside her concerns about the sudden disappearance of Benjy. He’d left through the rear exit without a word. Nothing about where he was going or when he might be back. She’d done the only thing she could do and had locked the back door with a heavy dead bolt and returned to the front to wait on her customers.
She kept cheerful Christmas music on the sound system as she offered advice on books she loved, found first editions, wrapped gifts, and generally visited with friends, neighbors, and a few strangers who’d come to the store for books and assorted writing materials. She kept a beautiful stock of cards, pens, paper, and envelopes for those who still practiced the dying art of correspondence.
When the shop phone rang and her old benefactor, Amelia, gave her a list of books she wanted gift wrapped and delivered when the shop closed, Tammy was exhausted and exhilarated. She’d never had such a profitable holiday season. And that put a lie to all the people who said reading was dead. Good books and the love of a good story were far from dead.
Trouble jumped up to the counter and sat facing her, his green eyes clear and intelligent. When he stretched and stood and put a paw on her lips, she had to smile. She’d been too stressed. She realized the shop was empty, so she locked the front door and took a seat in her small office. She could see the store and front door, should anyone come by. But she could finish her paperwork and leave without that dreaded task hanging over her. It was nearly seven o’clock. Night had fallen, and outside the other merchants were closing one by one, going home to their families to await the arrival of St. Nick.
She was putting the finishing touches on her tallies when she heard a soft knock on the front door. Expecting Aiden, she rose with a smile that froze across her face when she saw Thad Brady standing at the door. He stood without moving a muscle.
The open sign was still hanging on the door, and she went toward it trying hard not to show her worry. “I’m sorry, we’re closed,” she said without unlocking the door. She flipped the sign to closed.
“I need a copy of Jacksonland. It’s a gift.”
She hesitated. She knew the book about President Andrew Jackson and the thievery involved with the acquisition of the Cherokees’ land. And she was surprised that Brady ask for a history book.
“It’s a gift for Tom. I don’t want Christmas to pass without a token of my appreciation for his generosity.”
Tammy checked her watch. It was six fifty-five. Aiden would be there any minute. Maybe she could stall Brady. “Let me see if I have it in stock.”
“Okay.” He remained standing at the glass door, which was hardly a barrier if Brady decided he wanted to kick it in.
She went to the shelf and pulled out a copy of the book. Now she had to make a decision. And she did. She opened the front door and led Brady to the counter. She was acutely aware of her nervousness and Brady’s intense scrutiny.
“I don’t blame you for being afraid of me, but I haven’t harmed anyone,” he said as he pulled out his billfold to pay.
“Your demeanor won’t win you any friends,” she said, ringing up the sale.
He handed her cash and she made his change. “I’m sorry for the way I behaved. I know I frightened you.”
“Would you like gift wrap?” she asked, glancing at the door to see if Aiden had arrived. And where was Trouble? The cat was AWOL too. In fact, she hadn’t seen Trouble in a while.
“Yes, please.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, the first sign of his discomfort. “Look, people aren’t always what they seem on the surface.”
She tore off red foil paper and quickly wrapped the book, putting on a bow, her fingers fumbling. “Here you are. Thank you for your business.”
He sighed. “You’re afraid to be alone with me, but I came here hoping to talk to you.”
She looked at him. “You’re making me uncomfortable. I’d prefer to do this another time.”
“Up on Rook’s Vantage, you unsettled me. I was watching some…activity down in the basin and when I realized you were hiding in the brush, I went into defensive mode. Where I’ve been, an ambush is often fatal. I’m sorry I was so gruff.”
“You can leave now.” She didn’t want to hear any confessions. In mystery books, when the killer confessed, then he had to kill the person who heard the confession. If Thad Brady was the killer and he told her about it, she was 100 percent certain she’d die.
To her surprise, he grinned. “Why did you even open the door if you’re so afraid of me?”
“You wanted a book.” She realized she sounded nuts, but in the world of Wetumpka, people who read weren’t serial killers. Book people shared her values. She could never deny a person a good book. And she realized that line of thinking was 100 percent naïve—and irrational.
“Look. I didn’t hurt any of those women. I wanted to tell you that. I’m protective of my privacy and I don’t like being spied on. I’m exactly what I seem to be—a man who values his privacy. I’ve been through hell, and all I want is to be left alone. You can check my background, and while you’re at it, you might look into that deputy you seem to trust. He isn’t everything he’s cracked up to be.”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe you’re afraid of the wrong guy? Did Deputy Rivers feed you some bull about tracking the serial killer?” Brady laughed. “Did you ever stop to think that he’s always around where women are killed? When did he show up in Wetumpka? Days after a young woman was a and her body was found thrown off the Alabama River bridge, right? Six months ago? The Montgomery County sheriff’s office caught that case, which is why folks around here haven’t connected the dots. But Aiden Waters has. Ever wonder why?”
Tammy knew her expression gave her away. That was when Aiden arrived in town—right after the young woman was strangled and thrown off the bridge into the river. In fact, he’d said that it was the dead girl that had first attracted his attention to the area.
“You run around the woods knowing a serial killer is loose. You open the door to someone you suspect, and you don’t think to check the story of a man you let into your life. Folks said you were smart, Ms. Lynn. I beg to differ. You’re naïve, and if you don’t wise up, you’re gonna get hurt.”
“Aiden was with me when the killer left the body in the crater. He couldn’t have done it.”
“Unless he has a partner.” Thad took the book and walked out the door. The bell jangled angrily, and he disappeared into the night.
Tammy rushed forward to lock the door, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Thad Brady had terrified her. Not because he threatened to do anything, but because he was right about her weaknesses. She did trust the townspeople too easily. Someone wearing a badge was a good person—those were the rules of her hometown. It was one reason she loved Wetumpka—because she felt she could allow herself to trust in this little town where she knew almost everyone.
She checked her watch, keenly aware of the darkness and silence that had fallen over Wetumpka as most residents burrowed into warm homes to share Christmas Eve with family and friends. It was almost seven-fifteen. And where was Aiden? He’d made such a big deal about taking her home to be sure she was safe. Now he’d vanished without even a text. Maybe it was for the best.
She turned off the lights, gathered up her things, and prepared to lock up the s
tore, feeling a great reluctance to step out into the cold, dark night. But if she wanted to hear the Christmas cantata, she had to take Trouble home. The cat went with her almost everywhere, but church was off-limits. And she wanted a moment in her own home to gather her wits.
She had to confront the fact that the dream of Wetumpka as a place set apart from the dangers and horrors of life was terribly flawed. There were good people in her town. Plenty of them. But no special magic could keep out the people who meant harm to others. She had to accept that fact. And to wonder how big a fool she’d been to let Aiden into her life without asking a single important question about who he really might be.
A single car came down the street, cruising slowly. She stepped away from the front door, hoping no one could see her inside the dimly lit store. She tried to catch a glimpse of the driver, but the vehicle had darkened windows—a black sedan with a black interior. She shivered.
“Trouble!” She called to the cat. “I’m going home. You can come out of hiding and go with me or spend Christmas Eve in the store.” She couldn’t hang around any longer. She was leaving. She’d stop by Amelia’s, deliver the books, drop Trouble at home, and head up to the church. She’d be safe there, among friends. Aiden could find her if he wanted to—but he wasn’t going home with her. Not until she’d done a little bit of checking on her own. Maybe she was trusting and naïve, but she could change. She could become more attuned to a world where serial killers stalked young women. It wasn’t the reality she wanted, but by god she’d learn to deal with it.
The cat scooted out from behind the young adult shelf, blinking as if he’d been asleep. It wasn’t like Trouble to snooze on the job, and she’d been afraid of Thad Brady. Still, she was glad to have the cat with her as she stepped into the street lit only by the glow of multi-colored Christmas lights.
Aiden sat in the small but neat den of the cottage on the far side of the impact crater. The long list of names of volunteer carpenters and delivery people that Frasier had provided for him—people who knew Tammy Lynn had gone up to Rook’s Vantage to moon watch—had led him to the young woman sitting across from him.
Jimmy Connor, an employee of Dixie Supplies, had delivered the tin for the roof of the Habitat house. When Aiden called him—just a routine check--Jimmy had revealed the trauma his sister Jessica had suffered. The pretty young woman had been attacked in downtown Wetumpka—and escaped. In an effort not to worry her husband, who had to travel for his job, Jessica hadn’t reported the attack. But she had told her brother and he was more than happy to share the information with the law, once Aiden started asking questions.
Now, Jessica stood to be the best lead Aiden had come across in recent years—if her story connected to the SSK.
He checked his cell phone again—still no service. It was almost 7 o’clock. He needed to let Tammy know he’d been delayed. But he couldn’t risk leaving Jessica Whiddon’s home. He’d just spend an hour making her feel safe enough to talk with him. She’d been deeply spooked by what had happened, and he couldn’t afford to grow impatient in trying to get the details.
The slender young woman sat bolt upright and rigid, and he could see she was still afraid.
“My husband will be home Friday,” she said. “He works off shore down at the Gulf. He’s gone three weeks and home three. When he hears all of this, he’ll go nuts. He can’t quit his job. I work but I don’t make enough to support us and the three kids. That’s why I didn’t file a report. I wanted to keep this from him. He’ll quit his job if he thinks I’m in danger.”
Aiden could hear the children in the backroom, laughing and talking. They were well-behaved. The Whiddon family looked like a successful family unit—exactly the kind of family the SSK liked to destroy.
“I know this is difficult, but if you could just tell me what happened and when, you might save the lives of a lot of young women.”
“He’s really a serial killer?” Though Aiden hadn’t thought it possible, the young woman paled even more.
“I can’t say for positive you were attacked by the Silk Stocking Killer, but if it was him, yes, he’s killed more young women. So where did this happen?”
She twisted the sleeve of her sweater. “It was late, and I’d gotten off work at the hair salon. I knew the holiday season was coming on, so I’d cleaned out the kids closets and I had a load of clothes to drop off at Goodwill. The store was closed, but they have those drop boxes at different places. I went to the one behind the bank.”
Aiden could easily visualize the scene. Wetumpka National Bank had a spacious parking lot with trees for shade and the large Goodwill box in the far corner so that folks could donate after hours. “Did you notice any cars parked in the lot?” he asked.
“No, it was empty. I made sure. Lemuel, my husband, made it a point to teach me how to be careful. I looked all around. There wasn’t another car in the lot. So I got out and opened my trunk. I bent over to gather up some coats, when someone grabbed me from behind.”
Even though they were sitting in a warm, cozy den, Aiden could feel Jessica’s anxiety as she recalled the events. “What happened next?” he prompted.
“I had my car keys in my hand. I don’t know why I even took them out of the ignition, but I hit the alarm button. The car horn started honking really loud. The guy who grabbed me sort of shook me really hard, and I reached back with the car key in my fist like Lemuel taught me and jabbed at him. I hit him in the head. I know because there was blood on my key. He threw me down to the ground and kicked me in the head. It stunned me and I couldn’t get up, but I heard his footsteps running away, and I knew I was safe.”
“You are so lucky. And smart,” Aiden said. He instinctively took her hand and patted it. “You’re a very brave woman.”
“I don’t feel brave. I’m terrified all the time now. Why me? I was trying to do a good deed, and I was almost captured by a serial killer.” Her eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them away.
“After the attacker ran away, what happened?” Aiden kept his voice calm, reassuring. The more details he could obtain, the closer he would be to capturing the SSK, because he had no doubts that Jessica Whiddon had barely escaped a terrible fate.
Jessica’s smile was tremulous. “I picked up the coats and donation goods, stuffed them in the box, got in the car, and drove home as fast as I could.”
“You made that donation.” Aiden chuckled. “I know one other woman in town who might be as hard headed as you are. She runs a bookstore.”
“Tammy Lynn?” Jessica smiled. “She is tough. My kids love going to her story hour on Saturday. Even my boys love to read, thanks to Tammy.”
Aiden wasn’t surprised that the two women would know each other. Wetumpka was still a small town. “I really need you to file a report. Maybe you could talk to a sketch artist? You might recall some details.”
Jessica shook her head. “I didn’t see the man. I never had a chance. Lemuel would be devastated if he knew. I mean it. I can’t let him know how close I came to being hurt. I was okay. I went home and tried to put it out of my mind. I was careless, running around town so late at night.”
“Don’t do that,” Aiden said. “Don’t shift the blame to yourself. You have every right to be in town at any hour. You didn’t do anything wrong. You used all the precautions. It just happened that your attacker was in that vicinity. I understand that you don’t want to tell your husband, but you have to think about that decision. I don’t believe you should keep this from him.”
She stood up and went to put another log on the cheerful fire that burned. “You’re right. People who love each other don’t keep secrets. This will torment him, though.”
“Or else he’ll see what a resourceful woman he married.” He was rewarded with a small grin. “I’ll talk with your husband if you’d like.”
Jessica closed her eyes a moment and composed herself. “Okay. What do you need from me?”
“I need you to think. Did you pass any cars on the stree
t? Was there traffic when you pulled into the bank parking lot?” He pictured the area as she talked. The lot was isolated behind the bank and not clearly visible from the road. It was a good location for the SSK to set up. The far end of the parking lot was an eruption of stone, pushed up in ripples created by the impact crater. The location offered a lot of hiding places.
Jessica frowned. “There was a white van parked in the alley beside Luke’s Pawn. I just assumed it was Luke bringing in new stock or something.”
“Any idea what kind of van?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t really pay attention. It was white without windows. Like a panel van. But I don’t know the make or model. I didn’t notice the tag. I’m sorry.”
“You’re a very astute person. You’ve helped me a lot. Is there anything you remember about the man who grabbed you?”
“He was very strong. And his coat was soft. You know, like it was well padded.” Her eyes widened. “He had a peculiar scent. Like flowers. You know, not perfume, but maybe soap or sachet. I’ve smelled it in gift shops where they sell bath stuff and candles.”
Now Aiden had no doubt Jessica Whiddon had escaped the SSK. “Thank you, Jessica. I know you don’t want to, but when your husband comes home, tell him about this. And I would take some self-defense classes. It wouldn’t hurt to know a little Ju-Jitsu or karate or something like that. It might make you feel more secure.”
“That’s a good idea. I might enroll the children too. We could learn together.”
“You could even make it fun.” He stood. It was almost seven o’clock. He gave her his card. “If you think of anything else, please let me know. And don’t hesitate to call the sheriff’s office if you see or hear anything that disturbs you.”
“Thank you, Deputy Waters. I’ll do that.”
Tammy was pulling into her driveway when she saw headlights behind her. Despite her annoyance at Aiden for not texting or calling to let her know he was busy, she felt a huge measure of relief. He was okay. At the bottom of her annoyance had been genuine concern for his safety. And also the germ of doubt Thad Brady had so successfully planted.
Familiar Trouble Page 11
