by Wanda Dyson
She turned and looked out the window. She did know how Mrs. Terrance felt—how every one of those women felt. But she wasn’t going to let him know that.
Never in a million years.
They drove past a church, and Zoe read the message of the day on the sign out front. God speaks in many ways. Are you listening?
Zoe frowned. What was it with all these reminders of God lately? The billboard, the television station changing, the radio in her car set to a Christian station when she didn’t even know there was a Christian station, and now a church sign.
She dismissed it all and forced herself to think of Gina Sarentino. The dark black hair, pulled back in a braid and tied with a ribbon. The little studs twinkling in her pierced ears. The missing front tooth.
Flowers.
Garden.
Wildflowers.
Zoe closed her eyes as the thoughts and images swamped her.
“He thinks of them as his flowers. His wildflowers. He wants them dark this time. Each time he goes through phases. Redheads, then blonds, now dark hair. Flowers in his garden.”
“What in heaven’s name are you spouting off about?”
Zoe hadn’t even realized she was vocalizing her thoughts until he spoke, that frosty edge of hostility cutting through her thoughts.
“The man who is taking these little girls. He calls them his flowers. And after he kills them, he plants them in his garden.”
“That was no garden we found Gina in,” JJ reminded her.
“No. Not a garden. But wherever he places them becomes a garden to him. We dug up his garden. He’s angry.”
JJ pulled into her driveway and cut the engine. “What’s this about redheads and blonds?”
“Each time he goes through the cycle. . . .” Another thought hit her. “He kills them and then buries them. He considers their graves his garden.”
“How long has he been doing this?”
If she was surprised by his question, she didn’t let on. “Years. Not always here, local. But he’s been doing this for years. He’s careful. Never more than two or three at a time.”
“Because then the Feds would be called in.”
Zoe turned to him, her brow creased. “You should call them anyway. I know it’s procedure not to call them until it’s obvious it’s a serial killer. This is. Call them.”
JJ scowled. “Trust me, I have. And he confirmed that the Matthews baby doesn’t fit the pattern.”
“You’re right. So now what?”
“Now you get out of my car so I can dig and see what I can find out about any other missing children.”
Zoe opened the car door. At least he appeared to be taking her seriously. She closed the door and leaned down to look at him. “He either lives near or works at a school.”
JJ didn’t answer her as she stood back. He just pulled out of the driveway and sped away.
Shaking her head, she moved quickly up the walk. She stopped at her front door and stared at the small bundle of wildflowers tied with a ribbon. A hair ribbon. She didn’t need to pick it up. She understood.
Zoe unlocked the door, stepped over the flowers, and headed straight for the phone. “Detective Johnson just dropped me off at home, so I know he’s still on the road, but you need to tell him that I just got a message from the killer.”
#
Matt Casto’s foot was tapping faster than eight cylinders at four thousand rpms. He had come to take her to lunch. A surprise. Just to make sure she didn’t feel neglected. And what had he found? She was laughing at some smooth-looking jerk in chinos and a tie, her arm tucked ever so romantic-like in the crook of his arm. Going out to lunch with some guy!
Going out with someone else.
“Silly man, do you really think she’ll wait forever? If you care at all, and you do, you’d better do something about it. Someone else is already trying to draw her attention away from you.”
Zoe Shefford’s words ploughed through his head, mocking him. She’d been right. Someone was trying to take Paula away from him. And he hadn’t even seen it coming. Paula wasn’t the flighty type. That’s what he’d always loved about her. She was solid, dependable, always around when Matt called. Ready at a moment’s notice if Matt suddenly found time off. Always anxious to spend time with him.
And now someone else was luring her away.
Slamming the steering wheel with the palm of his hand, Matt turned the key, revving the engine of his car. Fine. If that’s what she wanted, he wasn’t going to stand in her way. He had work to do.
Tires squealed as he spun out of the parking space and pulled into traffic. He ignored the blast of a horn when he cut someone off.
#
Nora McCaine lifted Kaitlyn from her crib. “Awake from your nap already, sweetheart?” She held her daughter close, breathing in the scent of baby shampoo and baby powder the way a starving man inhales the smell of food. Cradling Kaitlyn, she sat down in the rocking chair and brought the bottle to Kaitlyn’s little mouth. Kaitlyn latched on to it.
Nora smiled softly. “We aren’t too hungry, are we? After you eat, would you like to take a stroll in the park?”
Kaitlyn continued to suck on the bottle.
“And then by the time we get home it will be time to start dinner for Daddy.”
Nora and Charles had spent nearly ten years trying to start a family, and with Kaitlyn’s arrival they had finally found the happiness they’d wanted for so long. Both had wanted a large family, but if Kaitlyn was all they were to ever have, they would be satisfied.
Up until Kaitlyn’s arrival, Nora had worked as a secretary for a law firm. Charles was a stockbroker. Even without Nora’s salary, they continued to live comfortably.
By the time Nora had finished feeding Kaitlyn and dressing her for a trip to the park, Charles was coming in the front door. One look at his face and Nora knew something was wrong.
“Charles? Why are you home so early? Did something happen?”
“I just wanted to work at home this afternoon. Stay close to my two favorite girls.” He kissed Nora and then took Kaitlyn from Nora’s arms. “And how is my favorite daughter today?”
“Charles, what’s wrong?”
Charles sighed as he kissed his daughter on the cheek and then handed her back to his wife. “Did you see the news?”
Nora shook her head. “No. Why?”
“There’s a madman out there. He’s snatching little girls. I’d rather you didn’t take Kaitlyn to the park for a few days. Not until they catch this guy.”
“I thought that was over in Monroe County.” Just the thought of someone snatching her daughter away was enough to make Nora hold on to Kaitlyn a little bit tighter.
“Monroe County isn’t that far away. Less than a half-hour drive. I just don’t want to take any chances. One baby was snatched right from her crib.”
“Oh, good heavens.” Nora started unbuttoning Kaitlyn’s sweater. “What kind of world do we live in?”
“It’s out of control.” Charles slipped out of his suit coat and arranged it neatly on the back of a chair. He picked up his briefcase. “I’m going to go work in the den for awhile.”
“Charles?”
He turned around in the doorway. “Yes?”
“No one will take our baby, right?”
“I won’t let them, Nora. Don’t worry. I’ll keep my two girls safe.”
#
JJ headed straight for his boss. He knocked on Harris’s door and quickly received a command to enter.
“I need additional help. We have more work than we can handle. Give me a few more men.”
Harris looked up, peering over the top of his glasses, blinking furiously. “How many?”
“Three.”
“Two. Take Cole and Chapman.”
JJ shook his head. Chapman was okay, but Barone was better. Much better. “Cole and Barone.”
Harris stared at him a long moment. Finally, he nodded. “Cole and Barone.”
“Thanks.”
JJ grabbed the door handle, looking to exit fast.
“And, Johnson?”
JJ half turned. “Yeah?”
“I want something solid and I want it fast.”
“I’ll have it. We’re close to nailing this guy.”
Harris nodded and dropped his head, dismissing JJ and returning his attention to the papers on his desk. Heaving a sigh of relief, JJ closed the door behind him. Close to nailing this guy. And pigs fly with red wings.
Fifteen minutes later, Chuck Barone stepped into JJ’s office. Barone was Italian. He was on the backside of forty, slight of frame with a small paunch and a receding hairline. “You commandeered me?”
“Yeah. I need those most excellent research skills of yours. We have a serial killer on our hands.” He nodded toward the stack of files on the corner of the small conference table. “That’s everything we have. I need you to go back over the past few years and see if you can find a pattern.”
Barone nodded as he reached for the stack of files. “How far back do you want me to go?”
“Find a pattern and keep going back until you don’t see it anymore.”
Barone blew out a heavy breath. “You don’t ask much, do you?”
JJ smiled. “I heard you were the best—that you could find patterns where they don’t even exist. Find me a pattern.”
“You got it.”
“And, Chuck?”
“Yeah?”
“Quickly.”
“Yes, sir.”
Chuck was barely out the door before Matt brushed past him, slamming down in the nearest chair.
“I thought you were having lunch with Paula.” JJ leaned back in his chair. “From the look on your face, it didn’t go well.”
“She was on her way out to lunch with some GQ type in loafers.”
JJ stared down at his loafers. “What’s wrong with loafers?”
Matt glared at him. “On you, they’re fine. On Mr. GQ, they’re disgusting.”
“I see. Because he was taking Paula out to lunch. Maybe he’s just a coworker?”
“I don’t care if he’s her boss!” Matt stood up, walked over to the window, and drew the blinds. Sunlight spilled in. JJ blinked. “You should have seen her, with her arm all tucked in his, laughing so sweetly at something he was saying, batting her eyes at him. It was disgusting.”
“Paula doesn’t bat her eyelashes.”
“She was flirting with him!”
JJ reached over and pulled the cord, dropping the blinds. “You flirt. How come it’s okay for you and not for her?”
Matt began to pace, his agitation amusing JJ, who hid a smile behind his hand.
“I don’t mean anything when I flirt.”
“Maybe she didn’t mean anything either.”
Matt spun around. “Whose side are you on, anyway?”
JJ threw up his hands. “Hey! Truce! I’m just trying to calm you down!”
Barone stuck his head in the door. “How much of a radius do you want?”
“Go out a hundred miles to start.”
Barone nodded assent and then, casting a quick glance at Matt’s face, slipped quietly away. “Look at that, Matt,” JJ said. “You scared off Barone. And he’s Sicilian.”
Matt dropped into the nearest chair and ran his hands through his hair. “I never thought she’d go out on me, ya know?”
“I’m sure it was just an innocent lunch with a coworker. You need to talk to her about it.”
Matt shook his head then leaned back, stretching his legs out in front of him. “I can’t, JJ. It would look like I was spying on her.”
“You weren’t spying, Matt. You showed up to take her out to lunch and saw her with some man. She’ll tell you what happened, you’ll kiss and make up, and all will be fine.”
Matt’s eyes narrowed. “Just you wait until you fall in love with someone. I’m going to enjoy watching you flop around on the end of her hook.”
“Never happen, my man. Never happen. Ain’t a woman born that can make me flop around on the end of any hook.”
Matt choked out a laugh. “We’ll see.” Suddenly Matt sobered. “Oh, by the way, Gerry found out Ted Matthews isn’t really Ted Matthews. He changed his name. Right after his parents died in a freak fire.”
JJ squinted as he picked up a message left taped to his stapler. He jumped to his feet. “Let’s go.”
“What’s going on?”
“Our serial killer just left a message on Shefford’s doorstep.”
#
When the bell over the door tinkled, Denise Shefford looked up and then smiled at the man coming through the door. “May I help you with anything?”
“Just looking. Thought I’d get this woman friend of mine something special.”
Denise gave the sweaters she was folding a final pat and walked toward him. “Well, we have plenty of items that are special. Is there anything particular you had in mind?”
“Something in pink. She likes pink.”
Nodding, Denise led him over to a display of scarves. He shook his head. “No, nothing like that. A sweater or shawl, maybe. Or maybe something like that.” He pointed to a pink blouse hanging nearby with a bouquet of flowers embroidered on the front. “That’s perfect.”
Denise lifted one from the rack and looked at the tag. “It’s pure linen, but it is a bit pricey. . .seventy dollars.”
“Seventy?” He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at it, as if having second thoughts.
“It’s imported and of the highest quality.”
He merely nodded and stared at it. Finally, he sighed. “I will take it.”
“What size?”
“Size?”
Laughing, Denise leaned against the rack. This was not the first man to come in and have forgotten or overlooked something so essential. “If you could tell me about how tall she is, about how much she weighs.”
“Oh. Yeah. Well. . .” He eyed Denise closely. “She’s about your size but a bit taller.”
Denise nodded and hung the shirt back on the rack before searching for another size. “Probably about an eight, then.”
He shrugged as he looked around the shop. “Nice shop you have here. Are you Amy?”
Denise shook her head as she carried the blouse to the register. “Amy was my daughter. I named it after her.”
“Was?”
“She died years ago.”
“That’s a shame. Was she your only child?”
Smiling wistfully, Denise removed the hanger and folded the blouse carefully in tissue. “No. I have one other daughter. She works here with me from time to time.”
He leaned against the counter, invading her space just enough to make her fumble with the box. “That’s nice. Must give you pleasure to have her around you.”
Denise backed up a step, still smiling, and slid the box into a shopping bag. “It does. A great deal of pleasure.”
“Tough losing a child.”
“Yes, it is.” Denise wrote out the receipt and handed it to him. “Have you lost a child?”
He shook his head as he counted out the money. “No. Can’t say as I have. But I know others who have. Sad thing.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Seems like they just never forget.”
“No, you never forget.” Denise took the money from him and felt a shiver go down her back. Shaking it off, she smiled at him and counted out his change.
The man picked up the bag. “Guess it would hurt even more to lose the one daughter you have left.”
Denise stared at him, stunned that anyone could make such a remark. “Yes.”
“Guess we should just hope nothing bad ever happens to her, then, huh?” Smiling coldly, he walked out of the shop.
Denise ran her hands over her arms, trying to rid herself of the sudden chill. He was just. . .strange. Too strange.
But his words echoed in her head the rest of the day. “Guess we should just hope nothing bad ever happens to her, then, huh?”
Tuesday, April 18
Nancy Darrington looked furtively over her shoulder as she nudged open the motel room door and slipped inside. Quickly she locked the door and drew the faded drapes across the single small, dirty window. The whole room is dirty, she thought as she looked around the dismal accommodations. But what could she expect for twenty bucks a night and a hotel clerk who saw nothing and said nothing?
She spread a quilt on the bed before placing the child on it. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but it’s the best we can do for now.”
The room was almost squalid with orange shag carpet, yellow striped wallpaper, and an orange and yellow plaid bedspread that she couldn’t even be sure was reasonably clean.
Despair welled up as she sat down next to the sleeping child. She wanted to give up. She wanted to pull the covers over her head and never see daylight again. She couldn’t do that. Keep moving. Don’t stop. Don’t think about how close anyone might be. Don’t think about what’s waiting if they do catch up.
No child should have to live in a house where the mother cringed every time the father spoke and the tension was thick enough to hang drapes on. That man didn’t love his child. And he didn’t love his wife. He was a control freak who just liked to see people jump when he opened his mouth to bluster.
And she wasn’t going to let it continue. So she took the child and ran. But how long could she keep running?
Yawning, she reached over and ran her fingers gently over the child’s soft hair. Forever, if she had to.
#
JJ walked into his office, flipped on the lights, and dropped into his chair. He was bone-weary tired and ready to pass out. He looked at Matt through drooping eyes that he was too exhausted to keep open. “Please put me out of my misery.”
Matt draped his jacket over a chair and sat down. “This guy is threatening to kill her. Don’t you think we should try to protect her?”
It took JJ’s brain a few seconds to connect the dots and figure out what Matt was talking about. He shrugged. “I’ve asked Harris for some extra help. I’m waiting on him.” He turned his attention to the fingerprint report on the note from the killer. Zoe had been smart enough not to touch the document and leave any fingerprints. So had the killer.
