Trailing a Killer

by Carol J. Post

  Cody turned back around to face Erin. But she wasn’t watching him. Instead, she stood in profile, mouth agape. “Why did you put that up?”

  “I put it up when I started the job, before the hurricane.”

  She planted her hands on her hips. “That sign was not here when we stopped last week. I would’ve noticed and told you to get rid of it.”

  “Bill took it down to mow and put it back up when he finished. But we were already gone.”

  Gradually, some of the panic fled her features, and she gave him a slow nod. Maybe she understood. But Erin wasn’t the only one who had a hard time forgiving herself. He’d always been his worst critic, and he wasn’t about to let himself off the hook that easily. His transgressions were piling up.

  Convincing Pops to leave his home and come to Florida instead of making the move back home himself.

  Not checking on Pops sooner and forcing him to leave well ahead of the storm.

  Now carelessly leaving a sign in his customers’ yard, leading a killer to their door.

  Just one more mistake on an unending list.

  NINE

  Cody poured a cup of coffee, then doctored it with cream and sugar. The kitchen was as in need of work as it had been two days ago. The ugly harvest-gold appliances were still there. So were the green laminate countertops and the worn-out cabinets. After the excitement at the Hutchinsons’ place, the remodeling had been put on hold until Monday.

  He’d gotten about half of the items transferred from the cupboards to the plastic shelves before receiving the call from Candy. He’d take care of the rest tonight and be ready to start the demo in the morning.

  Right now the house was quiet. Erin had left for a morning run with her neighbor and taken Alcee with her. She’d invited him to join them, but he’d refused. His sore body wouldn’t handle forty minutes of pounding the pavement. Besides, he didn’t want to crash Erin’s girl time. He was upending her life enough.

  He headed into the living room with his coffee. He’d promised Erin pancakes for breakfast, but if he wanted to serve them hot off the griddle, he’d have to wait thirty minutes to start them. In the meantime, he’d see if early Sunday morning programming offered anything interesting.

  He sat on the couch and reached for the remote. It was sitting on the end table next to a Bible and the same book he’d noticed on Erin’s nightstand. Bypassing the remote, he picked up the book and thumbed through it. Each of the pages had a date, but apparently, Erin wasn’t following the recommended schedule, because her bookmark was inserted at the page marked March 7. He removed the bookmark, curious what she’d be reading that day.

  The first sentence intrigued him. Let Me help you through this day. Given that the name of the book was Jesus Calling, he was probably supposed to read the words as if Jesus had spoken them. Was that what Erin did, relied on Jesus to help her get through the day? That didn’t sound like her. If any woman could take care of herself, it was Erin.

  While the first sentence caught his attention, the next two grabbed him by the throat. One said the challenges he was facing were too much to handle alone, and the next acknowledged the helplessness he felt in the events he was facing.

  Yeah, he was feeling helpless. Who wouldn’t in his circumstances? Driven from his home, the target of a foe who was always a step ahead of him. But he was dealing with it. He didn’t need a crutch.

  Without bothering to look up the scripture references at the bottom of each page, he moved through two more days, grumbling about those the same way he had the first. At the jiggle of the doorknob, he looked up with a gasp. The lock turned, the front door swung open and Alcee trotted into the room.

  Cody grabbed the bookmark from the couch and stuffed it back between the pages. As he spun to return the book to its place, the corner hit the edge of the table. The book fell from his hand, hitting the hardwood floor with a thud. Erin stepped through the doorway, phone pressed to her ear. What was she doing back already?

  He watched her gaze go from him to her book lying on the floor. Her brows lifted almost imperceptibly, but there wasn’t any anger or annoyance. Probably because she was focused on her phone conversation.

  He put the book back on the end table and hurried to the kitchen, Alcee following. Erin was such a private person. If she thought he was snooping through her things while she was away, she’d throw him out on the street. He measured some flour into a bowl and added the other dry ingredients. Maybe if he had breakfast ready for her when she finished her call, she’d go easy on him.

  As he beat in the eggs and oil, Erin’s voice drifted to him from the living room. That phone call was probably the reason she’d returned early from her run. Judging from her side of the conversation, there’d been some new developments in the case. One of her cases, anyway. He sometimes forgot his wasn’t Lee County’s only case.

  While he worked, Alcee sat on the floor at his feet, occasionally pressing her side into his leg. She wasn’t asking for anything. Erin had fed her before they’d left for their run, and since the dog hadn’t been in that long, there was no way she had to go out. Now she just seemed to be guarding him against anything threatening. Though nothing dangerous was going to slither through the air vents or penetrate the glass behind the closed vertical blinds, it was a nice thought.

  By the time Erin joined him in the kitchen, six pancakes sat on the electric griddle, undersides working their way to a golden brown. He cast her a glance over one shoulder. “News?”

  “Yeah. Jordan McIntyre’s girlfriend reported him missing this morning.”

  Cody’s jaw dropped. Pops’s neighbor to the right. “Maybe he witnessed something after all.”

  “That’s an angle we’re considering.”

  Cody slid the rubber spatula under the edge of one of the pancakes and peeked beneath. Perfect. After he’d flipped them all, he retrieved plates and glasses from the temporary shelving in the dining room.

  Erin poured two glasses of orange juice and brought them to the table. “The residents in both houses said they evacuated before the storm. But maybe McIntyre learned something after the fact, and the killer is making sure he won’t go to law enforcement with it.”

  She sat and drizzled some maple syrup over her pancakes. “His girlfriend was just about hysterical when she made the report. She insisted he didn’t have any trips planned, or he’d have told her. They usually hang out at Dixie Roadhouse on Saturday nights, and he never showed to pick her up.”

  Cody waited while she bowed her head. Grace before meals was one of Erin’s new habits, along with church attendance. And reading books like Jesus Calling.

  She opened her eyes and cut into her pancakes. “It doesn’t look good.”

  “Is his vehicle gone?”

  She shook her head. “The Tacoma’s still sitting in the drive, so it looks like he disappeared from his house. We’re there now, searching for clues. I told Danny to keep me posted.” She took a long swig of her orange juice. “McIntyre seemed like a pretty nice guy. I’m hoping we don’t find a body.”

  Cody frowned. “Knowing this guy’s history with explosives, you might get your wish, just not in the way you hope.”

  The creep was determined to eliminate anyone who could identify him. At least Bill and Candy were gone. They’d cleared out before the sun set and headed to her sister’s place in South Georgia. They didn’t have to be told twice. The ordeal was probably going to leave Candy with some nightmares.

  Cody’s insides twisted. It was his fault. If he’d thought to remove his sign, the killer would never have connected him to the Hutchinsons. Fortunately, since this was his only job still in progress, there weren’t any other signs out there.

  He pushed the thought aside. He had other mistakes to atone for. “Sorry for messing with your things. I didn’t mean to pry.” Or maybe he did. If satisfying one’s curiosity could be considered prying.


  Her pancake-laden fork stopped halfway to her mouth. “Messing with my things?”

  “Your book. I was planning to watch some TV while you were out. But instead of getting the remote, I picked up your book.”

  She gave him a relaxed smile. “It’s not a diary. If I had a problem with you looking at it, I would’ve stashed it somewhere in my room. You’re welcome to read it anytime.”

  She put the bite in her mouth and chewed slowly. “I’ve found it helpful. So often, what I’m reading is just what I need at the time.”

  “I sort of figured that out.”

  “Several of the passages talk about trust. That doesn’t come easy for me. Actually, it’s a major struggle. Trusting God, trusting others. Even trusting myself.”

  He grinned. “I figured that out, too.”

  One side of her mouth lifted. “If you’re reading Jesus Calling, you should know my Bible isn’t off-limits, either.”

  “Now, that’s pushing it.”

  When they’d finished breakfast, he took their empty plates to the sink. “I’ll do these while you get ready for church.”

  “I’m not going.”

  He lifted his brows. Missing church without a good reason didn’t seem like something Erin would do. “You’re not staying home on account of me, are you?”

  She shrugged, then followed him into the kitchen. When she started rinsing the plate he’d just washed, he frowned at her. The last thing he wanted was to keep her out of church. “Go ahead and go. Alcee won’t let me out of her sight. When Candy called, I had to sneak out through the mother-in-law suite.”

  Her features drew into a scowl. “Sending that 911 text to me was smart, but you should never have left my house.”

  “And let Candy Hutchinson pay the price for something she had nothing to do with? I don’t operate that way.”

  Her expression relaxed. “I know you don’t.”

  The respect and admiration in her eyes sent a shot of warmth through his chest. What she thought of him mattered.

  “But if you’d like to attend church, I promise I’ll stay put. I’m in good hands. Alcee seems to understand she’s been charged with protecting me.”

  Erin shrugged. “I’ve got another two days of vacation. I figured I’d spend them with you.” She grinned. “Besides, I don’t feel like doing my hair and makeup.”

  Church or not, the hair and makeup weren’t requirements. She looked great just like she was. Well, if she went to church, the yoga pants and T-shirt would have to go. But otherwise...

  That long-ago summer in Punta Gorda, he’d seen her just one way—dressed in a tank, shorts and flip-flops, hair pulled into a ponytail, face clean and makeup free.

  And he’d been completely smitten.

  Now there were walls that hadn’t been there before, and that carefree abandon had disappeared, but everything that had attracted him before was still there. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to be right back in the same situation—hopelessly in love with a woman who wasn’t willing to be anything more than a friend.

  Was Erin fighting the same feelings he was? Did she feel the same draw, that longing for something deeper than friendship? If so, she kept it well hidden behind those walls she’d erected.

  She finished placing the rinsed dishes in the rack. “My church livestreams its services. I figured we could watch from here.”

  Great. He wasn’t leaving the house, but he was going to be stuck sitting through a church service. Oh, well, he could think of worse things than sitting next to Erin, a dog stretched across their legs.

  Once they were finished with the dishes, Erin led him into the living room. “We’ve got thirty minutes till service time. What do you say we catch some news?”

  She picked up the remote. A meteorologist stood in front of a map of the Gulf, pointing toward a large cone over the southern part of the state.

  Cody sank onto the couch. “Are you kidding me? Three weeks after the last one?”

  Erin smiled. “You weren’t in Florida in the summer of 2004.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You only told me about Charley.”

  “Charley’s the one my grandparents and I went through. But two more hit the state from the other side. The three paths crossed within miles of each other in the middle of the state. Three major hurricanes within a six-week period.” She shrugged. “So it’s happened before.”

  Cody shook his head. “I guess I’ve had it easy. Until this season, we haven’t had any bad ones since I’ve been here.”

  “We’ll keep an eye on it. I’ve got hurricane shutters in the shed. They’re easy to install. For the last storm, I put them up and took them down by myself.” She frowned. “What about your place? If this thing’s going to hit us, it won’t be safe for you to go over there and do any kind of hurricane prep.”

  “I’ve got the electric rolling shutters. The remote is in my desk drawer. I could send my neighbor Jack in to do it.”

  “Better to have someone from the department do it. If the creep sees your neighbor go in, he’ll know you’ve been in touch and might try to use him to get to you.”

  After letting Alcee out and back in again, Erin settled on the couch to watch her church service. Cody couldn’t think of any way out of it without being a jerk, so he sat next to her.

  It wasn’t what he’d expected. Of course, he had only one experience to draw from. Years ago he’d visited a friend’s church, a huge building in Chicago with vaulted ceilings, stained-glass windows and an organ with pipes spanning the height and width of the front loft.

  He couldn’t speak for his grandfather’s church. Pops had invited him more than once. Cody had come up with an excuse every time. If he’d just given in, it would’ve meant so much to Pops. One more cause for regret.

  He shut down the thoughts and focused on the television screen. Erin’s church occupied what could have been a store at one time. Instead of a choir with its matching robes, three musicians and three singers stood in a row across the front platform, a drummer in the center. The songs weren’t what he’d expected, either. Erin’s church obviously didn’t hold to the preconceived notion that music wasn’t sacred unless written at least a hundred years ago.

  But it was the sermon that caught him the most off guard. If he didn’t know better, he’d think Erin had relayed the details of their conversation the other night to the preacher. Just like that devotional book. He was experiencing too much of that today.

  When the message was over, one sentence stuck in his mind as if spelled out in neon. “You contribute nothing to your salvation except the sin that made it necessary.” The pastor had attributed the quote to Jonathan Edwards, probably some famous preacher or something.

  Whoever originally said it, the words disturbed him. He’d always felt religion was a crutch. He’d never been critical of those who needed it, but he didn’t consider himself in that camp.

  After the closing song, Erin killed the power on the remote. “What did you think?”

  “It wasn’t what I expected.”

  “In a good or bad way?”

  “Neither. Just different.”

  “How did you like Pastor Mike?”

  He lifted a brow. “Other than I think he’s got your house bugged?”

  Erin grinned. “No bugs. Not even any covert phone calls. But that’s how God works. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve felt like the preacher was talking directly to me.”

  He pursed his lips. “I’m not convinced. I mean, the concept of sin sounds a little antiquated, don’t you think?”

  “Depends on how you look at it. Granted, it’s been around since Eve took the first bite of the fruit. But man hasn’t changed much.”

  “I just don’t see where all that’s necessary.”

  “So you think you’re perfect.”

  “No.” F
ar from it. He’d made plenty of screwups. But they’d never been with intent to harm someone else, at least not since he was a troubled teen. “In the whole scheme of things, I think I’m all right. There are people a lot worse.”

  “It’s not a scale, you know. Not in the way you’re thinking. There’s a standard, but it’s not Hitler or even the guy next door.”

  He frowned. He’d had enough conversations with Erin to know what standard she was referring to. Jesus Christ was perfect, which made Cody’s attempts at being good enough pretty hopeless.

  He pushed himself up from the couch. “What do you say we fix ourselves some lunch? Then we’ll get the rest of the cabinets emptied.”

  By ten o’clock that night, they’d moved all the dishes and food stuff and relocated the refrigerator. They’d even made time for a long walk with Alcee in the ball park, since Erin’s morning run had been cut short, and enjoyed a couple of movies.

  Now they were both in their respective beds, and Alcee was on patrol, lying outside his door for short spurts, then padding down the hall to keep an eye on Erin.

  The thoughts he’d kept at bay since the church service ended rushed back in. He’d shrugged off Erin’s arguments. But lying alone in the dark, he couldn’t dismiss them so easily.

  The problem was, he’d spent most of his life trying to be good enough. If he’d been good enough, his mother would’ve loved him enough to stay.

  If he’d been good enough, Erin would’ve finished college and come back to him.

  If he’d been good enough, his ex-wife wouldn’t have run off to find fulfillment with someone else.

  He’d failed on all fronts. But maybe he didn’t have to be good enough. Because someone else was. If he truly believed that, he wouldn’t find the concept of Christianity to be so restrictive.