by Rita Herron
Love had swelled within her, overflowing and rousing protective instincts stronger than anything she’d ever felt before.
Those same emotions were mirrored in Mason’s face now.
“Cara—”
“Please,” she whispered, choking back the temptation to rush into his arms. “Please let’s just find Nellie’s killer and then we’ll talk.”
Mason’s jaw tightened, his breath hissing out between clenched teeth, but he nodded in silent agreement.
“I’ll send all this to the lab in the morning. For now, go get some rest.”
“Thanks.” Cara started toward the door to see him out, but he stood stone still.
“I’m not leaving you here tonight,” Mason said in a tone that brooked no argument. “Not knowing that the man who killed Nellie might have been in your house.”
The reminder sent a shudder through her. But she didn’t know if she could sleep with Mason so close by, either.
“Go on to bed,” he said. “I’ll take the couch.”
Grateful for the reprieve from the discussion about their son, she hurried to the bedroom, then shut the door.
But as she crawled into bed, the image of that navel fetish and Nellie’s face taunted her. And it was all she could do not to get up and beg Mason to come to bed with her.
* * *
MASON WATCHED THE DOOR close and gritted his teeth. As much as he wanted to join Cara, he couldn’t.
He had to force his mind back on the case.
Getting distracted by his personal feelings might mean Cara’s life.
That is, if they were dealing with a repeat offender. His gut instinct told him it was only a matter of time before they found another body.
That whoever had killed her had left this navel fetish to make a point. He wanted the Winchester Clinic shut down, and he would kill to get his message across.
Mason had to stop him before the bastard took any more lives.
He phoned Sheriff McRae to fill him in. “I’m sending this note and the navel fetish to the lab in the morning. I also have letters Cara received that I want the lab to analyze.”
“You think he may come after Dr. Winchester?” Sheriff McRae asked.
Fear clutched Mason’s chest. “Yes. But at this point, he may be trying to punish her by making her watch other women die.”
He hung up, his head reeling. This madman wanted to make Cara feel guilty for the other women’s deaths.
Torment was his game of lust.
Dammit, he would find the SOB and lock him up forever.
He would not let him hurt Cara or his child.
* * *
HE LIT THE COALS inside the sweat hut, then stood at the top of the boulder and looked across at the plains. His father had taught him about the ways of the Natives while his mother had been nothing but a cheating whore.
He grasped onto the values of the Comanches, closed his eyes and willed the gods to hear his pleas to save the mothers who selfishly sinned and coveted their own pleasures instead of their God-given task of protecting and taking care of their young.
The blood from the woman he’d freed from sin tonight still stained his skin, but he dipped his fingers into the icy stream, washing the blood away. The crimson color mingled with the clear saintly water and flowed downstream.
The blood had been washed away just as her sins had when he’d bled them from her tainted soul.
A peaceful feeling overcame him as he imagined Dr. Winchester finding the amulet he’d left for her. She was an instrument for evil.
And she had to be stopped.
But she had to be punished first.
Taking solace from the fact that he’d finally begun his mission, he stripped his clothes, laid them on the rocks and stepped inside the sweat hut.
Now he would cleanse himself and prepare for the next sinner.
Chapter Nine
Cara finally fell into a fitful sleep. But in her dreams she was running from a madman.
He waved a knife in the air, its shiny glint flickering against the darkness.
His face was shrouded in the night, his growl an animal-like sound as he bellowed her name.
A spasm of pain shot through her belly, and she clutched her stomach, the pressure of the contraction nearly bringing her to her knees. But she couldn’t stop.
She had to keep running. Had to save her baby.
She suddenly tripped over a group of rocks, then plowed to the ground. A scream caught in her throat when she saw that she’d landed on top of Nellie Thompson’s body.
“I’ve got you now,” he snarled. “You’ll pay for your sins.”
She screamed and tried to push up, but her hand touched the cold stiffness of Nellie’s skin, and horror rippled through her. Still, she clawed at the ground, dirt sifting through her fingers as she rolled herself away.
He lunged toward her and grabbed her arm, but she twisted and fought him, desperate to pull herself up and escape. But her bulk made it too difficult and another pain seized her.
Dear God, the baby was coming!
She screamed for help, trying to shove him off with her feet, but he lunged toward her and sank the knife into her chest. Pain overcame her, and she gasped for air as blood spilled from her.
Then he lowered the knife and carved out her belly. She heard the sound of her baby crying, then watched helplessly as he lifted her child in his arms.
Cara jerked awake with a cry, trembling all over.
Suddenly the door swung open and Mason was there, leaning over her, touching her, pulling her up against him.
“Shh, it was just a nightmare,” he whispered against her hair.
Cara struggled to shake the terror from her soul. “But it seemed so real.”
“What did you dream?”
“That Nellie’s killer was after me,” Cara said. “That I fell into her grave and he took my baby.”
A shudder coursed through her. It had been a nightmare.
But there was truth in it, as well. If Mason was right about this maniac targeting her, eventually he might try to kill her and take her son.
* * *
MASON HATED THE FEAR in Cara’s voice.
Unfortunately she had a right to be afraid. Hopefully that fear would force her to be cautious and keep her alive.
The thought of anything happening to her and his son sent terror through him, and he wrapped his arms around her and held her tighter. “I’m not going to let him get to you,” Mason said. “I promise you, Cara. I’ll find the bastard and lock him away so he can’t hurt you or our baby.”
She clung to his arms, her breathing finally steadying. “I’ll look through my files today and see if anyone seems suspicious.”
“Good.” He glanced at the window where early morning light streamed through the sheers. At least Cara had slept a few hours.
He had been stone cold awake, too afraid to sleep for fear her intruder might return.
“I need to run the note and amulet to the lab. I called Brody last night and caught him up to speed.”
“Does he want me to leave the ranch?”
“No, he’s alerting his security team to watch out for trouble. But I think you should go with me.”
“I have patients to see today,” Cara said.
“Maybe you should shut down the clinic until we find out if this maniac is targeting you and your patients,” Mason suggested.
“I can’t do that,” Cara said. “Those women need me. Besides, I have two patients, young girls, about to deliver. I need to check on them.”
Mason reluctantly released her and pulled away. “Stay here until I can run to the lab, then I’ll drive you to the clinic.”
Cara shook her head. “No, go. I promised Brody I’d stop by the center here first.”
“Then wait here until I return. I’ll arrange for security to be installed at the clinic on my way to the lab.” He stood then pulled a backup pistol he had in his car and laid it on the end table. “Keep that just
in case.”
“I took an oath to save lives, Mason, not take them.”
“I know you did.” Mason made a point to glance at her stomach. “But you’re also carrying a baby who is depending on you to protect him.”
Cara’s face blanched, then she closed her eyes as if to gain her composure, and when she opened them, he saw acceptance in her eyes.
If the psycho who butchered Nellie tried to hurt their baby, she would defend him with every fiber of her being.
Mason headed back to his place to shower. An hour later, he logged the evidence from Cara’s into the lab and met with the forensic expert, Jody Tyler.
“What is that?” Jody asked when he showed her the amulet.
Mason explained the Plains tradition and the ME’s report. “Did you find any forensics or prints on her body or at her place?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Can you tell what kind of weapon was used to kill her?”
“Yes.” She led him to a computer with a screen shot of various knives. “Judging from the size of the blade, and the width of the knife wound, I’d say he used a hunting knife, one like this.”
Mason frowned, studying the knife.
“It’s a large buffalo skinner,” Jody began.
“I recognize it. Handle is made from hardwood, blade ten-inch carbon steel, sharp enough to skin an animal and strong enough to cut through bone.”
Jody nodded. “Unfortunately it’s not uncommon. Several websites offer it for sale.”
Mason’s stomach lurched at the thought of a man using it on a woman. “The shops in Texas that sell Native American arts and crafts and gear also carry them.”
“True. But if you find the weapon, it probably has a serial number on it that might help us trace the buyer.”
Mason had another idea. “I’ll check with a friend at the reservation who specializes in making knives.” He might have sold one to a customer that roused suspicion.
“We also found a message on the victim’s phone that you need to hear,” Jody said.
Mason gritted his teeth as she played the voice mail. “Do you know where your baby is?”
Dammit, it was the same message Nellie had received in the mail. Which meant she had definitely had a stalker.
Was he hunting for another victim now?
* * *
CARA PHONED SHERESE as soon as Mason left to give her a heads-up on the break-in at the clinic. “Mason is sending a security team over to install a security system and cameras today. I’ll be there in a little while.”
“Okay. I called Nacona in and he cleaned already. But are you sure we shouldn’t shut down for the day?”
“You know I can’t do that, Sherese. Betina and Connie are coming in this morning. They’re too close to delivery for me to miss their appointments.” Cara paused. “But if you’re too nervous to be there, I understand. You have your own family to think of.”
Sherese gave a soft laugh. “Don’t worry about me, Doc. I’ve dealt with worse than a druggie looking for a fix.”
Cara rubbed her forehead. “I wish that’s all it was.”
“You think it was something else?” Sherese asked, alarmed.
“It could be someone targeting me,” Cara said.
“Then you need to be careful, Cara. You have a family on the way, too.”
“I know,” Cara said. “Mason is coming with me.”
“Mason?” Sherese asked, a sliver of shock in her voice. “You mean Mason, as in the baby’s father?”
“Yes,” Cara said. “And yes, he knows the baby is his now.”
“Oh, my,” Sherese said softly. “How did that go?”
“About like you’d expect. He was surprised, angry...but I can’t worry about that. We have to find out who killed Nellie. I’m terrified he may target someone else from the clinic.”
“Then we should warn the patients,” Sherese said.
Cara clenched her jaw. “Mason thinks it’s too soon to do that. But if something else happens, I’ll insist that we do.” She hesitated. “My phone’s buzzing. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.” Cara switched to take the incoming call.
“Cara, it’s Brody. Mason filled me in. Are you all right?”
“Yes.”
“I hate to ask this, but we have a couple of kids who need to be looked at.”
“I’ll be there in five.” Cara finished dressing, grabbed her medical bag and hurried to her Pathfinder. Grateful for something to distract her from her own problems, she embraced the kids waiting on her at the BBL clinic.
“Let’s see what we have here, guys.”
Keith was six and coughing, so she listened to his chest, checked his throat and ears. “Looks like a case of tonsillitis,” she said. “A little antibiotic and you’ll feel better soon.”
“I don’t wanna miss riding lessons,” he said, his voice hoarse.
Cara ruffled his hair. “Don’t worry, you won’t.” She gave him a hug, retrieved the sample antibiotics she kept to give to his camp leader, then met ten-year-old Rueben. “What’s going on, Rueben?”
“My ankle hurts.” The poor kid was way too skinny and fragile for a boy his age.
“Let me take a look.” He climbed on the exam table, and she pulled off his shoe and sock. His ankle was slightly swollen, and she twisted and pressed in various spots, then took an X-ray. A few minutes later, she showed it to him. “Good news, kiddo. It’s not broken, just a slight sprain.”
His big eyes widened with panic. “I have to leave camp?”
“No, we’ll wrap it, and you take it easy for a day or two, then you’ll be back to normal.”
He grinned, and her heart broke at the sight of his teeth. She made a mental note to arrange for a dentist to offer services at the BBL as soon as possible.
She finished up with some routine checks for colds, then looked up to find Mason watching her.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
She nodded. “Any news?”
Mason led her out to his car, and they settled inside before he spoke. “Forensics found a message on Nellie’s phone. It was similar to the note we found in her house.”
Cara’s heart pounded. “So she was worried about her baby?”
“It looks that way. She was probably on her way to see you when he killed her.”
Cara’s throat swelled. So Nellie had been killed because of her...
* * *
MASON DROVE CARA to the clinic and waited while she saw her morning patients, two young single women who looked like they were going to deliver any day.
He introduced himself to Cara’s assistant Sherese, an olive-skinned woman with striking dark hair and brown eyes.
“Cara explained about the break-in and Nellie Thompson’s murder?”
Sherese nodded. “I hated to hear about that. Poor woman.” She sorted through a stack of files. “But the baby is safe?”
“Yes,” Mason said. “It doesn’t look like the killer murdered her to get the child. But he had been watching her, stalking her.”
“Lord help us all,” Sherese said. “Nobody seems safe these days.”
“Can you think of anyone who’s been here, maybe an expectant father, disgruntled spouse or ex-husband, someone with issues against the women’s clinic?”
Sherese fiddled with her long braid. “Hmm, there was a man who came in pushing religious fliers on us. Seemed kind of fanatical.”
“Do you still have one of those fliers?”
She scrunched her mouth in thought. “I think I threw them out.” She stood and walked over to a bulletin board where they’d posted information on support groups for single mothers, dates for free vaccinations for children, along with fliers on child care workers and programs for young children. Then she reached into the trash and removed a white paper emblazoned with information on a local religious group and their meeting place.
A man named Reverend Webber Parch led the group.
“Thanks, Sherese, I’ll check this guy out
.”
Cara emerged from the back, her arm around a young teenager who looked nervous. “Call me if you start having contractions,” Cara said.
The young woman put her hand on Cara’s belly. “What if you go first, Doc?”
Cara laughed softly. “Then Sadie Whitefeather will deliver your baby.”
The young girl relaxed, then left, and Cara greeted a Native American girl clutching her boyfriend’s hands. The boy seemed to be doting on the girl. Mason grimaced, wondering if that love would last once the child arrived.
His cell phone buzzed, and he checked the screen, a bad feeling crawling up his spine when he saw the sheriff’s number. “Blackpaw here.”
“It’s Sheriff McRae. I hate to tell you this, Blackpaw, but we have another body.”
Mason’s chest clenched. Dammit to hell.
It was true. They had a serial killer on their hands.
Chapter Ten
“Where are you?” Mason asked the sheriff.
“Out at the landfill on Old Coal Road.”
Mason gritted his teeth. “You think it’s the same killer?”
“Yes,” Sheriff McRae said. “He covered the grave in stones just like before.”
“Who found her?”
“Couple of teenagers who were scavenging the dump. They saw a stray dog pawing at the ground. Damn dog dug up just enough for them to see there was a body.”
Sheriff McRae made a disgusted sound low in his throat. “I already called a crime unit.”
“Have you identified her?”
“Not yet.”
“All right, I’m on my way.” He stowed his phone on his belt, then explained what happened to Sherese.
Sherese headed toward the exam rooms. “I’ll tell Cara.”
He glanced at the flier again while he waited on her to return. Cara and the pregnant teen and her boyfriend emerged from the back. Cara’s face was strained, although she tried to hide it from her patients.
“Everything looks good. You have a couple more weeks to go, but call me if anything changes.”
The teenage father looked up at Cara sheepishly. He was trying so hard to be a man. “Thank you, Dr. Winchester. You take good care of my little one.”
Cara patted his back. “You’re both going to do fine,” she assured them.
