by Janie Crouch
“If there’s information to be had in the victims’ minds, Sherry Mitchell will get it.”
“That’s not what Frank Spangler is saying.”
“Spangler is just trying to save face.”
“That may be true, but we’re still running out of time.”
Jon couldn’t agree more. After saying goodbye to Captain Harris, he drove to the hospital from city hall.
He could understand about the city being on the borderline of panic. Right now, without Sherry in his sight, even pretty sure that she was safe, Jon could feel the panic licking at his heels.
If everyone in a city of more than half a million people was feeling this sort of stress about the safety of their loved ones, then, yes, the city was very definitely on the verge of a panic attack.
And had the words loved one just gone through his mind in conjunction with Sherry?
He would be the first one to admit that he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind from the moment he’d seen her. Last night and this morning had been possibly the best of his life.
But not to get carried away with the feelings. He needed to think this through further. He always thought things through before letting his emotions get involved.
Still, he couldn’t deny the profound feeling of rightness, coupled with relief, when he saw her sitting in the courtyard where he’d left her. Safe and looking more relaxed than she had seemed all day.
Well, almost all day. He could think of a time in the shower this morning where she’d definitely been more relaxed.
“What are you grinning about?” she asked as he walked up to her.
“Um...relaxation techniques.” He sat next to her, kissing her on the cheek.
“How did your meeting go?”
“Better than I thought it would. Mayor Birchwood is a pretty reasonable guy. He just wants what’s best for his city. How about you? Did you get bored?”
“No, Nurse Carreker stopped by for a few minutes. And Dr. Trumpold.”
“That really handsome Italian-looking doctor?”
“Yeah.” She all but sighed.
Jon rolled his eyes. “And here I thought I was leaving you here to keep you safe from a serial rapist. I should’ve locked you up in a cell at the station so you couldn’t get into any trouble.”
She smiled. “We just talked. Don’t be jealous.”
Jon snorted. “I am not jealous. He’s short. I don’t know why women would be into him.”
“He’s brilliant, successful and probably very rich. Besides, everybody’s short compared to you, so that doesn’t count.” She reached over and put both arms around his neck where he sat next to her on the bench. “Don’t worry, he’s not my type.”
“Humph.” Jon turned his head and looked up into the distance in mock offense.
Sherry leaned closer. “How about if we go over to my house and I make you dinner, then prove to you just how much more interested I am in federal agents than handsome doctors?”
Jon glanced over at her without moving his head. “I don’t know. I might need a lot of convincing.”
“I think I’m up to the challenge.”
Chapter Seventeen
Sherry sashayed up the steps to her porch, knowing that Jon was watching from the car. They had decided on the way that if he showed up at the station for the third day in a row wearing the same clothes, people were definitely going to notice. He wanted to take her to the condo where he was staying.
They’d agreed they would stop by her house so she could grab whatever she needed to make dinner, and beyond, before going to his place. Jon didn’t offer to come in and Sherry didn’t insist. They both knew if he followed her into her house they would never make it back out of the bed tonight.
To make up for the damage to Jon’s delicate ego after the doctor comment.
Sherry actually laughed out loud. Jon was going to milk that for as much as he could. And she didn’t mind at all.
She was still smiling as she grabbed the things she would need for the meal she planned—fish tacos—and put them in a couple of paper grocery bags by the sink. As she did so she tried to think of the sexiest undergarments she had brought with her on this vacation.
Nothing too spectacular. She definitely hadn’t been planning on a romance. But she did have some black lacy things somewhere in her room.
Or maybe she could just change into a sundress and have absolutely nothing on under that.
She rushed from the kitchen into the bedroom, a smile plastered on her face. Jon wouldn’t know what hit him.
She smelled it first. Her smile faded as her nostrils were accosted with a metallic scent. Like iron or copper or something rusting.
Had a pipe burst? It was the only thing she could think of that could be rusting.
Her eyes adjusted to the gathering dusk in her bedroom and Sherry saw something on her bed. Oh, no, the roof had leaked during yesterday’s storm. She could see the dark stain all over the bed, ruining the quilt. She touched it and was surprised at how oddly thick the water was. And sticky.
She turned the lamp on next to her bed to get a better look and jumped backward, knocking the lamp over but not shattering the bulb.
Blood. It wasn’t water, it was blood. An obscene amount of it, making a garish stain on her bed’s cream-colored quilt.
Right in the middle of it was a note, its white seeming neon against all the red. Stay out of this.
Sherry felt she was going to vomit, but she forced it down. Cold descended over her entire body rapidly, uncontrollably. She couldn’t stop the shudders that racked her frame; they glued her in place.
Every shadow cast from the setting sun filtering through the window now held a potential enemy. Was the person who did this still in her house?
The thought was enough to jolt her body into taking another step away from the bed.
Jon was right outside. She just had to get him.
She slid her way along the wall with her back to it, eyes glued on the bed. On the blood. So much of it. Once she made it through the door frame of the bedroom, she stumbled as if she were drunk back down the little hall into her kitchen. The iciness in her limbs made movement difficult and violent shivers made her teeth clack together like castanets. Her vision began fading in and out.
She took two steps and leaned heavily on the kitchen island. She saw a bloody handprint there and startled back, until she realized it was from her own hand. Blood, from where she had touched the bed.
Shadows loomed everywhere. She had to get out.
The front door was only a few yards away. She forced her legs to move forward. She had to make it out to Jon. Just a few more steps.
It wasn’t safe here.
* * *
ONE LOOK AT Sherry’s face as she seemed to stumble out the door and Jon knew immediately that something wasn’t right. He was out of the car and running up the couple of stairs in seconds.
“What? Sherry, what is it?”
She held up her hand and he felt the air rush out of his lungs as he saw the blood.
“Did you cut yourself? Are you okay?” He looked at her hand but couldn’t see any wound on it, only mostly dried blood.
He supported her arms as she grasped his shirt, nearly falling on him. Up close he could see she was paper white, her skin cold to the touch.
“Are you hurt, Sherry? Talk to me, baby.”
“N-no.” Her teeth were chattering so badly she could barely get the word out. “In...inside.”
Jon pulled his Glock out of the holster and turned to face the door, sweeping Sherry behind his back so he was between her and whatever had terrorized her in such a way. “Is someone in there?”
“I don’t know.” She grasped the back of his shirt to keep him from going forwar
d.
“I’m just going in to check, make sure we’re safe. Stay right here, okay? If anyone comes out here, you scream your head off.”
Jon didn’t want to leave her, but he needed to know what was inside and if it was a threat to them. He turned around and glanced at Sherry.
She nodded. “Bedroom.” The word was barely a whisper.
Jon entered the house cautiously, checking all rooms and closets on his way in. He examined all other rooms in the small single-story house before going to the master bedroom.
He saw the blood on the bed immediately. It was impossible to miss, even with the lamp turned over on the floor. But he secured the bathroom and walk-in closet before turning to give the room his full attention.
Confident the house was empty, he returned his Glock to its holster and walked closer to the bed.
The curse that flew out of his mouth was vile at the sight of the blood covering the bed he and Sherry had spent so many hours on the night before. Viler still when he saw the note lying pristine white in the center of the mess.
Stay out of this.
There was no doubt in his mind what that meant. Rage, and not just a little bit of fear, flew through him at the thought of this monster turning his attention to Sherry.
Jon pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed Zane Wales. “It’s Hatton,” he said without preamble. “I need uniformed officers and a full forensic team out at Sherry Mitchell’s place right damn now.”
“Oh, my God, Jon. Please tell me—”
“No, she wasn’t attacked.” Jon cut him off, not wanting to allow the other man to think the absolute worst. “But her house was visited by him.” He gave Zane the address.
He could hear Zane firing off commands to whoever was nearby.
“Not that I don’t believe you, but how do you know it was him?”
“He left her a note.”
Zane gave an angry curse similar to Jon’s. “Do you need an ambulance?”
“No, no one’s hurt. At least not at the scene. Just hurry up and get here. Thanks, Zane.” He disconnected the call.
Jon was thankful there was no body lying in Sherry’s house, but he knew that much blood—if it was from a single person—would definitely mean there was a body somewhere.
It looked as though their rapist might just have escalated to murderer.
Jon didn’t touch anything, knowing Forensics could get more from a clean scene than he could get from disturbing it.
Besides, he needed to get back out to Sherry.
She was still on the small portico, huddled down on the ground now instead of standing. Her arms were wrapped around her head as she rocked herself back and forth.
“Sherry, sweetheart.” Jon crouched next to her and pulled her into his arms. “It’s okay.”
He heard her take a shuddery breath, but she didn’t look up.
“Is anyone in there?”
“No, the house is empty.”
“Is there a bod—” She stopped to take another shaky breath and get though the word. “A body?”
“No, there’s no body anywhere in the house. I searched.”
She nodded slightly. “But all that blood...”
He pulled her in tighter. “It definitely came from somewhere, but the body is not here. That much I can assure you.”
She didn’t say anything for a long time, but at least she let go of her head and rested against him. Jon knew the police officers would be here any moment, but he didn’t care. There was no way he was letting go of Sherry while she still needed him. Even if they were blocking the door. They could step over them to get inside.
“Did you see the note?” Sherry’s voice was tight, hoarse.
Jon kissed the top of her head. “Yes.”
“It’s him and he knows I’m working with you.” Her shaking was coming back.
“Hey, listen to me.” He reached down and tilted her chin up with a finger. “Nothing is going to happen to you. I will be with you every minute until we catch this guy. Or if I can’t be, I will make sure someone who we can trust is.”
He could tell she was still working things through her mind. And it would get worse before it got better. Her home, her safety, had been violated. It would take time for her to come to grips with everything going on.
But what Jon told her was the truth. He was determined to make sure she was safe.
“Do you think we could get you over to my car?” he asked her as he saw blue lights flashing in the distance. “Police are going to be here soon. Forensics. A lot of people going in and out. You might feel better if you’re not right here in the door.”
She nodded. “Okay. And I can help inside.”
“No, absolutely not.” There was no way in hell he was letting her back in there, even if there was something she could do, which there wasn’t. He gentled his tone. “We need to let the forensic techs do their job. You and I both need to stay out of the way as much as possible.”
Actually, Jon planned to be there. He would make sure he didn’t contaminate any of the evidence, but he was going to make damn sure this was being handled correctly. Sherry didn’t need to experience the scene again. He was quite sure it would already be burned into her mind for a long time.
“Let’s get you over to my car.” He helped her stand. Her skin was still rough with chills.
“I need to wash my hands,” she whispered. “I got blood on your shirt.”
He hugged her to him. “Don’t worry about that, baby. And I’ll get something for you to wipe your hands with until we can get you back to my place and you can take a shower.”
She didn’t give him any trouble about that, for which he was thankful. She was going to stay where he could protect her himself.
He walked her slowly over to his car and opened the door, easing her in. The uniformed officers were parking and he motioned to them to hold their position.
He grabbed his jacket from the backseat and wrapped it around her. “You stay right here, okay? I’m going to help coordinate what’s going on inside, but I’m going to leave a uniformed officer right outside the door.”
Sherry nodded, though her eyes were unfocused, staring straight ahead. Being somewhat in shock was understandable.
He knelt next to her so they could see eye to eye. “Hey.” He brushed back a strand of hair from her face. “You hang in there, okay? I’ll be back as soon as I can and we’ll get out of here.”
Her eyes focused on him and she nodded. He kissed her forehead.
He stood and closed the door. The sooner he got this finished, the sooner he could get back to Sherry. Jon motioned over two of the uniformed police officers who had showed up.
“You two are both to stay here, do you understand?”
The young officers, one male and one female, both nodded, although neither looked happy about it.
“This is Sherry Mitchell. This is her house. What’s in there is pretty horrific and she stumbled onto it unawares. She’s in shock, and more than that she’s a possible target of the serial rapist.”
They were taking the situation much more seriously now.
“I want both of you here, guarding this car, the entire time. If one of you needs to leave, you send someone to get me first. No one, under any circumstances, is to take Ms. Mitchell anywhere, except me.”
As he walked away he turned back. “Have someone get her some water. And something to wipe the blood off her hands.”
Zane had showed up and walked over to him. They made their way to the front door together.
“What the hell, man?” Zane said in way of greeting. “What is going on?”
They stepped out of the way so the forensic team could get by with its gear, but followed right behind them. Jon pointed them in the right direction
once inside the house. “Our rapist stopped by. Evidently he’s not too excited about Sherry working with us.”
When they stepped into the bedroom, Jon heard Zane’s breath whistle through his teeth. “That’s a significant amount of blood. There’s not a body in here anywhere?”
They stood back, so the forensic team could access the bed without them being in the way.
“No, no body. Just a note saying ‘Stay out of this,’” Jon said.
“With all that blood? Has to be a body somewhere.”
Jon nodded. “Yeah, my thoughts, also. And that our rapist has escalated to the next step.”
“If that’s true, it wasn’t here that the killing took place,” the tech said. “Except for the one handprint, this blood is undisturbed. There’s no way a body could’ve been here and then moved and it look like this. This blood was poured here.”
Zane glanced over at him, tilting his hat back slightly with his finger. “So it’s possible that we don’t have a dead body somewhere?”
The tech looked up. “It’s possible this isn’t even human blood. I think it is, but we’ll know for sure pretty quickly once we get back to the lab. The way it was poured, it came in some type of container. So there may not be a dead body, just a wasted donation.”
“I hate that this happened,” Zane said as they watched the techs continue to work. “But it may be a break for us.”
“I agree,” Jon said. “And beyond that, there are only so many people who know Sherry has been working with us. Almost all of them are in law enforcement.”
It was the reason Jon had two people out watching Sherry at the car. As of right now, he didn’t trust anybody, especially not with her life.
It was possible that word had leaked out that Sherry was helping them; they hadn’t been keeping it a secret. The mayor’s office knew, everyone at the department knew, the victims and their families had been contacted, so they knew. Mayor Birchwood might even have included the info in his statement, although not mentioning her by name.
Whoever did this could’ve heard about Sherry from someone else; then finding her house wouldn’t have been that hard.
