Sterling barked, “Shut the hell up, Becky. Show a little respect.”
I lowered my eyes and murmured, “Patty Copland was my mother.”
Dead silence filled the air.
Finally, Sterling cleared his throat. “Well, that fits the pattern. I…I’m sorry to have called you back over, um…Ellie.”
If Sterling was being this nice to me, something was wrong. I snapped my head up. “Wait. What’s going on here? What pattern? What don’t I know?”
They all turned to look at me with pity. Even Manetti.
“Someone tell me, damn it!”
Manetti held a plastic sleeve with a rumpled piece of paper in it. “We just found this in the victim’s mouth. The poem this time… It references you. And your sister.”
“No,” Baxter breathed, staring at the poem in disbelief.
Manetti’s words were like a kick to my gut. Amanda hurried over to me and put a hand on my shoulder. Baxter did the same on the other side of me. I struggled to focus, to not break down. Even though I didn’t want to believe it, it was becoming clear to me that my sister was in grave danger.
I swallowed and whispered, “Read it.”
Manetti read, “You’re still in the dark, so I’m going to be kind. I’m flattered how I’m on everyone’s mind. A hand for a hand. Let me give you a clue. Now that I have your attention, I’ll be the one telling you what to do.” Pausing for a moment, he flicked his eyes at me, and Amanda tightened her grip on my shoulder. He continued, “If the professor plays nice, her sister lives. Stay tuned for the instructions I’ll give.”
I felt like my whole world was shattering in slow motion, piece by piece. I couldn’t breathe. My entire body was numb, and when my legs gave way, Amanda and Baxter were there to hold me up.
I choked out, “He has my sister.”
Manetti nodded, his expression anguished. “Yes, we’re afraid he does. But we’re going to do everything within our power to—”
I cut him off, trembling. “The poem says if I play nice, she’ll live. When he contacts you, don’t do the standard police negotiation bullshit. You tell that son of a bitch I’ll do anything he asks. Nothing is off the table. I will trade places with her. I will give him anything he wants. The only thing I care about is Rachel getting out of this alive.”
Manetti said quietly, “Ms. Matthews, I think we need to talk about this and come up with a strategy—”
“I’m getting my sister out of this, and I don’t care what it costs me.” I shrugged out of Baxter and Amanda’s grips. “I’m going home to wait for his instructions.”
I turned and took off for Lester’s cruiser, thinking I wasn’t going to be able to hold it together much longer. I should have known after Baxter heard my little speech he wouldn’t just let me go.
He fell in step with me as I hurried down the road toward the parking lot. “Ellie, I know your main focus is Rachel’s safety, but you can’t tell a sociopath you’ll give him anything he wants. I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but—”
“Yes, you are. That’s exactly what you’re doing. You’re going to say that trading my life for hers isn’t going to solve anything. It’s only going to fuel his ego, and it could totally blow up in my face. He might even decide to keep us both.”
“You’re right. That’s everything I was going to say. You can’t trust him, which is why it’s a terrible idea to give in to his demands.”
I stopped and looked up at him as tears started spilling down my cheeks. “I’m willing to take that risk, Nick. I can’t stand by and not try to find a way around this. Even if there’s a tiny chance he’ll let Rachel go, I have to take it. I made a promise to always be there for her. I’m not breaking it now, even to save my own life.”
I’d only seen Baxter look this frightened one other time before—when he thought I’d been shot a few months ago. “I can’t let you do this, Ellie. We’ll think of another way. We’ll find this guy.”
“You’ve said that all week, Nick. No offense, but you know you’re not going to find him unless he wants you to. And the only way to do that may be to hand me over to him.”
His eyes shone with tears. “I will not be a part of that.”
“I’m not asking you to.” I walked away, and this time he didn’t follow.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Deputy Lester drove me to David’s house in a deafening silence. Other than the short but heart-wrenching conversation I had with Samantha when she called to ask if the killer had Rachel, not a word was spoken in the ten-minute drive. Sam offered to come over and sit with me while I waited to hear the next set of instructions, but I turned her down. As soon as I could, I needed to be alone.
When we got to David’s driveway and parked, I took a moment to compose myself. David didn’t often get upset or emotional, but I had a feeling this was going to be more than he’d ever had to handle. I got out and walked to the door, dreading this conversation.
When he answered, he took one look at my face and said, “Where is your sister?”
I clenched my jaw hard. Then I managed to say, “The killer took her.”
He staggered back, his mouth hanging agape. I followed him into the house and glanced around. No Nate.
I must have looked panicked, because David choked out, “Nate is napping.”
“Good. David, I’m sorry. I don’t know what the killer wants with Rachel or with me. The thing I’m clinging to is that we have a message from him saying if I cooperate, then he won’t hurt Rachel. I’m assuming he’s going to give us some kind of ultimatum or ask for a ransom or something. Whatever it is, I’ll do it. This is a change to his normal routine, so I’m hoping that will work in our favor, at least. Unfortunately, now all we can do is wait to hear from him.”
As I was speaking, David had collapsed onto the nearest chair and put his head in his hands. He said, “How could this have happened? I thought she would be safe on campus.”
I’d been wondering the same thing in the back of my mind, but hadn’t come up with a good answer yet. “I did, too. We all thought I was the target, and I thought she’d be safer away from me. I guess that wasn’t the case.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “David, I promise I will do everything in my power to get her back.”
He looked up at me, his eyes filled with tears. “I don’t want you doing anything dangerous, Ellie. I couldn’t stand it for both of my girls to—” His voice broke, and he couldn’t go on.
I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to keep it together. “Look, David, I hate to ask this of you, but…for Nate’s safety…and so there’s no chance of him happening to hear anything somewhere or see anything on TV about Rachel’s disappearance…can you take him out of town for a few days? Just until we can get this sorted out?”
David seemed dazed. “I guess… Where?”
“Anywhere but here. In fact, don’t even tell me where you’re taking him. Just go. I’m going to have my assigned deputy drop me at home, and then I’ll have him come back here to escort you out of town.”
“But won’t that leave you vulnerable?”
I shook my head. “I think the killer has what he wants right now.” When David only cringed and wiped a fresh tear from his ashen face in response, I said, “Care if I look in on Nate for a moment?”
“Go ahead.”
Heading down the hall to the bedroom David and Marjorie kept for their grandchildren, I got a hot, stabby feeling in my heart. I couldn’t bear the thought of Nate growing up without his mother. I also couldn’t shake the feeling that if things went badly and I did indeed have to trade my life for Rachel’s that this could be the last time I saw my nephew. Sweeping aside a tear, I opened the door to find him sleeping peacefully in a bed filled with stuffed animals. I walked over and sat on the bed next to him, leaning down to give him a kiss on the forehead and breathe in his sweet little boy scent. His hair had been freshly washed and was still damp.
He stirred at my touch and opened one eye. “Auntie Ellie? D
id you come to take me home?” he asked, yawning.
I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “No, sweetie. I came in here to tell you that Grandpa David is taking you on vacation.”
Nate scrambled to a sitting position, now fully awake and alert. “Vacation? In the winter? Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“Ooh, a surprise vacation!”
“Yes, sir.”
“Is Mommy coming with us?”
I clenched my jaw so tightly I thought I might crack a tooth. “Not this time. She’s still got another week of school.”
His lower lip stuck out in a pout. “Okay. But I’ll miss her.”
Feeling like I’d had the wind knocked out of me, I murmured, “I know. But you’ll have lots of fun. I’ll see you when you get back, okay?” I gave him a hug, and he clung to me tightly.
“Okay. Bye, Auntie Ellie.”
I stood, thankful the lights were off so he couldn’t see me crying. “Goodbye, my sweet boy. I love you.”
“You, too.”
***
Once I got home, I sent a protesting Deputy Lester away. My safety didn’t matter now. Hunter Parsons—or whatever his real name was—had plans for me, and I was resigned to the fact that I had to go along with whatever they were. If that meant him coming for me at my home, then so be it. A deputy would only get in the way and complicate things, plus it would put yet another person in danger, which was the last thing I wanted.
After I shut the door behind Lester, I sagged against it, allowing the all-consuming guilt and horror I’d held at bay to come crashing over me. My knees buckled and I landed on the floor, not even feeling the hard fall. I wept, heaving out racking sobs. Sensing something was wrong, Trixie came over to nuzzle me, but I couldn’t handle it.
“Get away from me!” I roared, making her whine and run for the safety of her dog bed in the corner of the room.
Clawing my way up the door to a standing position, I could think of only one thing that could numb the pain. I stumbled to the kitchen and found a new fifth of vodka. I opened it and drank deeply straight from the bottle. My throat was on fire, but that momentarily took my mind from everything else. I dropped my coat on the floor and kicked off my boots, heading back to the living room to find my phone.
As I exited the kitchen, my eyes landed on our Christmas tree. Our tradition was to put it up the day after Thanksgiving, which we’d done again this year, oblivious to the unthinkable happenings that would transpire during the holiday season. A fresh wave of tears falling, I took another swig and turned the tree’s lights on. While I watched the twinkling lights illuminating Nate’s homemade “ornaments”—badly cut out shapes with chicken scratches and glitter on them—a blinding rage tore through me. I grabbed the closest branches and slammed the tree to the floor. In my blind fury, I stomped on the tree and the ornaments, only to get tangled up in the strings of lights and fall down. Sprawled out next to the disheveled tree, I howled and moaned, my heart feeling like it was tearing into two pieces.
***
I must have either passed out or fallen asleep, because I awoke to a pounding on my front door and someone yelling my name. Before I could get up off the floor, Baxter had opened the door and barged into my house, his face creased with worry as he took in the pathetic and deranged holiday tableau in my living room.
Wordlessly, he scooped me off the floor and settled me onto my couch. After flicking his eyes toward the fallen Christmas tree again, he asked, “You’re not hurt, are you?”
I ached all over after falling down twice, but I didn’t want to admit it. “Only on the inside.”
“Where’s Deputy Lester?”
“I sent him away.”
“That wasn’t your call.”
I shrugged. “My body, my choice.”
Running his hands through his hair, he sat down next to me and gestured toward the bottle I’d set on the coffee table. “Was that full when you started?”
“No,” I lied, eyeing the missing third of the bottle of vodka I only vaguely recalled drinking. I squinted at him. “Why are you here?” Remembering why I’d got drunk in the first place, my fuzzy mind snapped into action. “Did you hear from—”
Baxter nodded. “We received a message.”
“What was it?” I demanded.
“Are you sure you’re in the right frame of mind to—”
“Damn it, Baxter! Tell me what he said!”
Frowning, he got out his phone. “He emailed us a video.”
I grabbed his arm. “Is Rachel in it?”
He hesitated. “Yes.”
“Play it!”
Bringing up the video, he warned me, “There’s a lot to take in, so if you need me to stop, tell me.”
I’d had enough of his stalling. I reached across him and hit play on the video myself. Sighing, he handed me his phone.
A young man’s face filled the screen. With his clean-shaven skin and spiky, bleached-blond hair, I didn’t recognize him at first. But once he started speaking, I recognized Hunter Parsons’s voice.
“Well, hello there, Detective Baxter and Professor Matthews, you two rock stars, you. I’ve heard so much the past few weeks on the news about your bravery and your excellent investigational skills that I couldn’t resist trying them out for myself.” He made a pouty face, and I heard some bumping and other noises in the background. “But this time, you haven’t been such smarty-pantses, have you? I’ve killed what…three women? And you still don’t have a clue as to who I am?” Shaking his head, he made a “tsk-tsk-tsk” noise. “Maybe I’m being too evasive. Now that I have your attention, and the professor’s sister….” He grinned evilly at us. “I thought you’d be more open to helping me out with something. Oh, and if you’re wondering if I’m bluffing about the lovely Rachel Copland Miller, here’s your proof.”
The camera swung around to an animal stall filled with hay, a small figure huddled in the corner. It was my sister, hands and feet bound and her mouth gagged. My stomach plummeted and began rolling. I dropped the phone and stumbled across Baxter, scrambling for the nearest bathroom. I barely made it to the toilet in time to vomit. Collapsing on the cold tile floor, I looked up to see Baxter standing over me, looking as sick as I felt.
He said quietly, “I know it’s one thing to know that he’s holding your sister, but it’s quite another to see it. I understand if you need a minute.”
My eyes filled with tears as I whispered, “How could he keep her there like an animal? She doesn’t deserve that.”
“I know.” He reached out his hand. “Can you watch some more? We’re kind of on a timetable now.”
I nodded, letting him help me up and back to the couch. Once I was seated, he handed his phone to me, and I hit play. Thankfully, the camera was back on Hunter’s face.
“So, here’s the deal. There’s a case from thirteen years ago I want reopened and solved correctly. And I want you two geniuses to do it all by yourselves. Your mentor, the Sheriff, and her fat-ass partner weren’t nearly bright enough to solve it properly in the first place, so I thought your two brilliant minds should take a crack at it.” He frowned. “I’d hoped my choice of victims, my crafty little poems, and my carefully placed props would point the department in the right direction sooner, but maybe those involved all those years ago were simply too emotional this week to be able to recall the details of my mother’s case.”
“His mother’s case?” I repeated. “Shit.”
Baxter murmured, “Yeah.”
Hunter Parsons continued, “My real name is Justin Fox. My mother’s name was Leann Fox. My father’s name was Samuel Fox, and he was wrongly charged with my mother’s murder and incarcerated for it. He died in a prison riot, when he should never have been there in the first place. I want you to find the real killer and bring him—or her—to justice. I’m going to give you seventy-two hours, starting now, five PM on Thursday evening. If you manage to crack this case, sweet Rachel here goes free.” He tu
rned the camera toward Rachel again. I didn’t want to see her like this, but I couldn’t look away. Panning back to himself, he said, “If not…she’ll join the ranks of my three other innocent angels with incompetent family members. Get to work, and we’ll talk soon. Bye, now.”
The screen went black. I sank back on my couch, unable to move. We had to come up with a brand-new suspect from an already solved murder case from over a decade ago, and we only had seventy-two hours to do it? That was impossible. He was asking the impossible of us and using Rachel’s life as a bargaining chip. This was never going to work. There wasn’t time to get through the red tape to exhume the body for a new autopsy. There wasn’t time for DNA analysis of evidence, if there was even any evidence left, viable or otherwise. Jayne was an excellent investigator and always had been, and Frank was no slouch. If she had arrested this Samuel Fox person and testified in court, then he was the killer. Was Hunter…or Justin, if that was his real name, doing this for a good laugh—watching us race against the clock, killing ourselves to somehow pluck a new murderer out of thin air? Maybe this was another wild goose chase to keep us off his scent.
Rage started bubbling up inside me, replacing my despair. I hopped up off the couch, swaying a little as I did so. I began pacing the room, broken twinkle light bulbs and glass ornaments crunching under my feet. “That bastard. If he thinks for a minute that he can get away with this, he’s wrong. Dead wrong. I will kill him myself if I ever get my hands on—”
Baxter came over and put his hands on my shoulders to stop my pacing. “Hold up. Channel that. We need your head in the game now more than ever. We’ve already got people working on reopening the old case and getting the evidence from storage.”
“Meanwhile, that nutjob has my sister!”
“Ellie, we’ll find her. I promise.”
I wrenched away from him. “Did you make that promise to Jayne when we were looking for Jenna? Did you make that promise to the Richards family, too?”
He looked at me like I’d slapped him. “Ellie, that’s not fair. I’m sick over Rachel’s disappearance.”
An Eye for an Eye Page 14
