by Sherri Hayes
“Don’t you think it’s a bit of a coincidence that all of these women wound up dead after they turned you down? Why do you think that is?”
“I don’t know. A lot of pretty women come to the library.”
“And do you ask all of them out?” Janey asked.
His eyes flickered to her and then back to Paul. “Yeah. Most of them.”
Paul crossed his arms. “So you only kill the ones that say no.”
“I told you. I didn’t kill anyone.”
Janey jumped in, redirecting Stalz’s attention to her. The two of them had done this song and dance routine many times since they’d become partners. Paul’s size made it easy for him to play the gruff bad cop role, while his partner would turn on the charm—a direct contrast to what Paul was projecting. Suspects would often begin pleading their case to Janey and let something valuable slip.
“Maybe he’s telling the truth. Maybe he was just being friendly. The women are pretty,” Janey said to Paul before turning to their suspect. “Adam, you have to understand that we’re trying to find out who did this, don’t you?”
He nodded.
“So were you maybe watching them? Before you asked them out?” she asked.
Adam lowered his head, broadcasting his guilt.
Janey softened her voice. “Adam? You watched them, didn’t you?”
“Sometimes. It wasn’t anything, though. I promise. I just paid attention when they came into the library. Offered to help them find stuff. I didn’t do anything wrong,” he insisted.
His partner glanced up at him, and Paul nodded. Stalz’s responses were consistent. Other than his initial response when asked about the women, and that could be chalked up to embarrassment or fearing for his job, he reeked more of desperation than anything else. Serial killers usually had huge egos. Paul wasn’t getting that impression from Stalz.
“Is there anything you could tell us about these women that might help us find out who killed them? Maybe you saw something that would help us. Was there something they had in common?” Janey asked.
They were grasping at straws, but considering their best lead had dried up, it was worth a shot.
Stalz was quiet for an extended period of time. Although Paul was tempted to break the silence with another question, he remained patient. It paid off.
“There was this guy,” Stalz said.
He was looking at Paul when he said it, but Janey was the one who responded. “What guy, Adam?”
Stalz shrugged. “I don’t know his name. He hangs out at the library sometimes.”
“And why do you think this guy may have something to do with these women?” Paul asked.
“Because I see him hanging around talking to girls all the time.”
Stalz had their complete attention. “What can you tell us about him? Do you remember what the guy looked like?” Janey asked.
“Tall. Not as tall as you, though,” he said to Paul. “And he has blond hair.”
Paul opened the folder to make notes. “Bleach blond or more of a sandy blond?”
“Sandy.”
“Anything else about him you can remember?” Paul asked.
“I think he might be campus security or something.”
Paul jotted that down. “Why do you think that?”
“Because sometimes he’d come in wearing a uniform.”
“Anything else?” Paul asked.
Stalz shook his head. “No. But he was here last Friday.”
Janey stood. “Do you know if he spoke to anyone?”
“I didn’t see anyone, but I was helping someone at the time so I wasn’t paying close attention.”
Paul and Janey glanced at each other, and he knew they were both thinking the same thing. There had been a thief at the store two years ago. The detective that usually handled burglaries was on vacation, so he and Janey had drawn the case. It turned out to be some sort of prank, but after that, the library put in security cameras. Hopefully, their mystery man had been caught on camera.
Janey thanked Adam Stalz and walked him out. When she reentered the room, Paul was leaning against Chaney’s desk facing the door.
“We’ve got to get our hands on those security tapes.”
He pushed himself away from the desk and joined her at the door. “Agreed. Let’s just hope Mr. Chaney is in a giving mood and doesn’t require we get a warrant first.”
His partner chuckled as they strolled out the door. “Well, maybe if we ask real nice.”
It took a little while to find Mr. Chaney. Since Paul and Janey had taken over the library director’s office, he’d gone down to the basement to get some archival work done. One of the library volunteers eventually remembered seeing him head toward the stairs, and had gone down to search.
They got lucky, and after calling the dean, Mr. Chaney agreed to pull the security footage from Friday. The catch was they couldn’t remove it from the premises without a warrant.
As a compromise, the three of them set up shop in Mr. Chaney’s office to go through the footage. It was a long process, since they didn’t exactly know who they were looking for.
Roughly an hour in, something caught Paul’s eye. “Go back.”
“What? What did you see?” Janey asked.
Paul didn’t answer until he had what he was looking for on the screen. “Is that who I think it is?”
Janey stood and walked closer to the monitor. “Is that Officer Rollins?”
“You know this man?” Mr. Chaney asked.
Both Paul and Janey ignored him.
“Is his name on the student list?” Janey asked. “I don’t remember seeing it.”
Flipping through the folder with the list of student and faculty names the dean had sent over, Paul confirmed that Rollins was not on the list. “We need to get Stalz back in here to see if this is the guy he saw.”
Before Janey could comment, Paul was out the door in search of Stalz. There was no sign of him on the second floor, so Paul bounded down the stairs as quickly as he could. If Rollins was the man Stalz saw, there was a very real possibility that he was their killer. They’d been racking their brains trying to figure out how the man managed to get into the victims’ houses without any sign of forced entry. It was all beginning to make sense. Rollins could have used his badge and most likely preyed on the women’s fears.
Paul found Stalz in the connecting building. He was with a customer. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but we need to speak to you again.”
Stalz paled slightly. After the grilling Paul had given him earlier, he supposed he couldn’t blame the young man for being a little skittish. “Can it wait until I’m finished helping her—”
“No. I’m sorry. It can’t. Maybe another one of the staff could be of assistance?” Paul was trying really hard not to drag Stalz kicking and screaming up the stairs. They were close to solving the case. He could feel it. Paul only needed Stalz’s positive ID.
It took a little longer than Paul had hoped, but less than five minutes after finding Stalz, they were on their way back up the stairs.
As soon as Stalz saw the footage, Paul knew by his reaction they had their man. “Yeah. Th-that’s him. That’s the guy.”
Knowing they would need a warrant not only for the footage they’d reviewed, but also all the library’s security surveillance for the last twelve months, Paul put in a call to get the process started. “Mr. Chaney, the warrant should be here in a few hours. We’re going to need everything you have for the last twelve months.”
“Everything?”
“Yes. I’m afraid so,” Janey said.
“When do you think you could have it to us?”
“Most of our footage is stored digitally off-site. I’d have to make a request to have it pulled. Maybe a week? A few days, if I pull a few strings.”
Janey placed a reassuring hand on Mr. Chaney’s shoulder. “Pull a few strings, please. Someone else’s life could be in danger.”
After leaving Mr. Chaney with a few more de
tails, Paul and Janey practically ran to the car. While Paul started toward Rollins’ house, his partner put a call in to the captain to let him know what was going on.
Rollins was off duty until midnight, which meant he could be anywhere.
Chapter 26
Jay sat at the kitchen table while Megan poured both of them a cup of freshly made coffee. She wasn’t averse to him stopping by, but she was slightly thrown by it. Sure, they’d agreed to be friends, but other than running into him outside the campus library, she hadn’t spoken to him since Paul had tried to set them up. Had Jay ever been to Paul’s house before? Megan didn’t think so.
She brought the steaming coffee over to the table and took a seat opposite him. “Are you sure you don’t want cream or sugar?”
He shook his head. “No. Black’s fine. So how have you been?”
“Good. You?”
“Keeping busy. You know how it is,” Jay said.
“And you’re going to school, too. I can’t imagine how tough that would be on top of a full-time job.”
Jay lifted his coffee to his mouth, but lowered it back to the table before taking a drink. Maybe it was still too hot for him. “You’re taking classes, too, though, you said. That can’t be easy with a child running around.”
Megan shrugged and sipped her coffee. It was the perfect temperature for her, but then again she’d added some cream. “Chloe’s great. All I’ve got to do is sit her down with a book and she’s content. If that wasn’t the case, then I don’t think I could do it.”
He glanced around the room. “Is she in her room or something?”
“No. She’s with her grandparents. It’s just me and Paul at the moment.”
“So did he ever get his head out of his ass?” Jay grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.
She laughed. “Maybe.”
“Ah. So the great Detective Daniels isn’t above chasing a pretty girl.”
Megan grinned, but otherwise remained silent, tilting her head down toward her drink.
Jay cleared his throat. “Speaking of the good detective, you didn’t tell him about the other day, did you? That you saw me, I mean.”
“No. You asked me not to. Although, I don’t really understand what the big deal is. I mean, Paul wouldn’t begrudge you an education. He’s been really supportive of me going back to school.”
“That might be the case, but you don’t know how it is at the station. Guys can be brutal if stuff like that gets out.” Again, he raised the cup to his lips but didn’t drink. Megan wondered if maybe he really didn’t like coffee but had only accepted to be polite.
She shook her head. “Men. I will never understand the lot of you.”
He laughed with her, but for some reason Megan felt it wasn’t genuine. Had she offended him?
Before she could think it through too much, her cell phone rang. Knowing it might be Paul, she set her mug on the table, and stood. “Excuse me.”
Unfortunately, she only made it halfway across the room before an arm wrapped around her waist, and a hand covered her mouth. “I’m sorry, Megan. You’re a sweet girl—not like the others—but I can’t take a chance on you blabbing your mouth.”
Megan’s eyes widened in horror. What was going on? Why was Jay . . .
“Don’t struggle, and I’ll make it quick. I promise,” he whispered.
Her heart was pounding in her ears, but Megan knew she had to stay focused—look for an opportunity.
Jay began moving them back toward the table. She had no idea why, other than it put more distance between her and her phone—her phone that had quieted for only a few seconds before it started ringing again.
Knowing she needed to get him to let his guard down, Megan didn’t fight him. She didn’t help him move her, but she didn’t prevent him either.
Breathing in and out as evenly as she could, she waited. Hoping, praying he made a mistake.
Her opportunity came a few seconds later when he let go of her waist and reached for something on the table. She stepped forward with her left foot, and with all the energy she could muster, Megan bent at the waist, pulling Jay over her shoulder.
She didn’t quite manage to completely flip him—he was a big guy, after all—but her move landed him on his back.
Not giving him time to recover, Megan made a beeline for the back door. Unfortunately, he caught up to her before she was able to step outside.
Jay pulled her kicking and screaming by the ankles back into the main part of the kitchen. She no longer had the element of surprise, so she knew anything she tried he would be anticipating. Megan couldn’t stop fighting, however. It wasn’t in her nature.
Once he got her back near the table, Megan saw what she’d missed before. A knife. It was small, maybe six or seven inches in total. The small metal blade reflected the sunlight, almost as if taunting her.
The wheels began turning in Megan’s head, and she remembered the bits and pieces she’d seen on the news about the serial killer—how the women’s throats and wrists had been cut.
And then there was what Jay had said before about the other women.
“You’re him. The serial killer.”
He grinned, and it sent a chill up her spine.
She swallowed. Jay had pulled her arms above her head and held her wrists captive with a single hand. He straddled her waist, putting pressure on her hipbones, making it almost impossible to move. Her only hope was to get him talking. Megan had to either reason with him or get him to drop his guard again. Given he’d killed four women already, she didn’t put much stock in the former, so she was hoping for the latter.
“Figured that out, did you?” he asked.
He picked up the knife and held it mere inches from her neck. She tried not to move. “I don’t understand. Why? I mean . . . you’re a cop.”
To her dismay, Jay pressed the blade against her throat. He didn’t puncture the skin, but she got the message loud and clear.
“Sometimes people need to be punished. And if the law won’t do it, then someone has to.”
Every word coming out of his mouth was making her skin crawl. How could she have missed this side of his personality? Surely there had to have been a sign. Something.
All she knew was she had to keep him talking. That’s what Rebecca always told her. Even if there was no way to talk the person down, buying time was always the best option. Megan only hoped it was Paul who’d tried to call her and he’d realize something was wrong when she didn’t answer.
“What did the other women do wrong, then?” Her voice was shaking. She couldn’t help it.
“Ah, ah, ah. No more questions. I promised to make things quick if you didn’t struggle. Now I’m going to have to make you pay.”
She gasped as he ran the knife blade along the width of her neck. It cut into her skin, and a few moments later she felt blood trickling down to stain her shirt.
He chuckled as she struggled against his hold. She opened her mouth and was surprised she was still able to speak. The cut must not be that deep. He was toying with her. “Please, don’t do this, Jay. Please.”
With the back of his hand, he slapped her across the face. “I said be quiet!”
His eyes were blazing with fury, and Megan knew the end was coming. There was nothing she could do to stop him, and talking only seemed to make it worse.
He ran his nose along the edge of her face. In another circumstance, it would have been rather intimate. As it was, bile rose in Megan’s throat. She closed her eyes and prepared herself to die.
She yelled out in pain as the knife sliced through one of her wrists.
Paul and Janey drove straight from the library to Rollins’ house. Neither he nor his vehicle was there. Normally, Paul would begin tracking down the suspect’s friends in an attempt to narrow down his whereabouts. That didn’t sit well with him as an option. If he was right, Rollins was their serial killer. He was also a cop, which meant he had advantages above that of the average criminal.
When
Paul was unable to reach Megan, he began to get a sickening feeling in his gut. Megan always answered her phone when he called. He’d known her to climb out of the shower when her phone rang. This wasn’t like her. He wanted to warn her about Rollins. Although Paul knew that wasn’t standard protocol, he didn’t care. Megan had become extremely important to him, and he didn’t know if he’d be able to stand it if something happened to her.
Especially since it would be all his fault. He’d introduced her to Rollins, after all.
“Do you want me to keep trying?” Janey asked, sensing his worry.
Paul shook his head. “If she hasn’t answered by now, she isn’t going to.”
“You don’t think . . .”
“I don’t know. Do you mind if we—”
“Of course not. Let’s go.”
Turning around in the nearest driveway, Paul worked his way through traffic as quickly as he could to get to his neighborhood. Rollins only lived about ten minutes from Paul’s house. Paul made it there in six.
The minute they turned onto Paul’s street, they spotted Rollins’ car. It wasn’t parked in front of the house, but it was well within easy walking distance. Any optimism Paul had felt before went out the window. If Megan was hurt . . .
He didn’t even want to think of the other possibility.
Paul pulled up along the curb. He jumped out, not bothering to turn off the engine, and sprinted toward the house.
He was almost to the garage when he heard Megan scream. If there’d been any doubt Rollins was inside the house before then, it was entirely gone. Releasing his gun from its holster, Paul raced toward the back of the house where he’d heard her scream originate.
Janey was hot on his heels. He knew she’d heard Megan as well.
The scene that greeted them when they burst through the back door turned his stomach. Megan was laid out on the floor with Rollins on top of her. There was blood coming from her wrist, and from her neck.
Without thinking, Paul launched himself across the room, and knocked Rollins back. They both went tumbling and hit the tile floor hard. Paul’s gun went flying, but that was the least of his worries. Rollins recovered quickly from the unexpected hit, and Paul felt something sharp puncture his leg. Without seeing what it was, he knew it had to be whatever Rollins had used on Megan and the other women he’d killed.
