by Debra Webb
You were home, and you still couldn’t protect your child.
Bobbie forced away the voice. Amber Alerts had gone out on both children.
She moved away from the door and returned to the kitchen. Holt was outside with the evidence techs working the backyard. Bobbie picked up the carefully bagged instruction letter left behind for Aaron’s mother. The single page had been placed on the boy’s pillow. Bauer had confirmed the same scenario at the Rice home. Joey Rice’s room had been entered through the window, as well. Rice insisted she had not left the window unlocked, but that wouldn’t have stopped the Storyteller. He often entered the homes of his victims repeatedly before taking them. Evidence of his visits had been found in each abduction—even in her own.
Newt had told her about how they’d found the little notes Perry had left behind. Descriptions of an item or a room, small notes like a writer would use as reminders of the details needed in developing a story. A window that overlooks the park. A drawer filled with intimate silk. A teddy bear with only one eye. None of which she and James had noticed. She’d been too busy working on the case. Those final three weeks before Christmas Eve last year Bobbie hadn’t been home more than three or four hours a night—and sometimes not at all. As the librarian at the university, James had been able to take some extra time off and stay home most of the month of December. Mommy keeps the monsters away. James whispered those words to Jamie every night when he tucked him into bed to explain why Mommy wasn’t there. Agony swelled inside her. She’d fallen down on the job...
She banished the memories and set her attention back to the here and now. The only notes left in the Rice and Taggart homes were the ones giving instructions to the mothers. The cell phone the two had been instructed to call would turn out to be an untraceable burner. He was too smart to make such an elementary mistake.
Bobbie’s gaze settled on the photo posted on the fridge with colorful magnets. Aaron Taggart grinned from ear to ear. Those big gray eyes tugged at her heart. You can’t let these kids down, Bobbie. You gotta do better this time.
“We’re done here.”
Bobbie turned to the back door as Holt walked in. Holt was not happy—then again she rarely was. She’d spent the entire year pissed at the world because she was turning forty in October. Her wife was pregnant with their long-awaited first child and they’d just bought a fixer-upper in the Garden district. Holt was overwhelmed.
“You find anything out there?” Bobbie followed her toward the front door.
Holt shook her head. “Not one damned thing. They lifted a few prints, but God only knows if we’ll get lucky and find a match that doesn’t belong to a member of the family. If it’s Perry, it’s all irrelevant anyway unless he’d added an accomplice to his repertoire.”
“Doubtful,” Bobbie commented. “He wouldn’t want anyone to share the spotlight.”
Holt gave a nod of agreement. “Let’s get out of here.”
Outside a small crowd had gathered behind the police barricade. Neighbors watched and reporters jockeyed for better camera angles. How much longer would they be able to keep the real story out of the news? Once that happened, Bobbie’s face would again be all over the papers, television screens and internet. Something else to look forward to.
No feeling sorry for yourself. Imagine what Gwen is going through this very minute.
Bobbie dropped into the passenger seat of Holt’s Crown Vic. “We headed to East Chase?” She would like to have a closer look at the other house.
“We can stop by. No problem. I gotta go by the office first, though.” Lynette glanced in Bobbie’s direction as she started the engine. “You holding up okay?”
“Sure.” Bobbie snapped her seat belt into place. “Any of the neighbors see anything?” Uniforms had been canvassing both neighborhoods. If they’d found any witnesses no one had told Bobbie. She didn’t expect Holt or anyone else to keep her fully informed. Owens would walk a fine line between keeping her on the job and making the chief happy.
“Nothing so far at this one. A neighbor at the other scene—” Holt swiped her red bangs out of her eyes “—heard a dog barking and a car door slam during the night, but nothing that’s going to help us.”
Bobbie exhaled a frustrated breath as they drove away. The possibilities of what the piece of shit had planned for these kids ripped at her insides. If he wanted her, why not come for her? Why hurt an innocent child? I will kill you this time, you bastard.
“If Peterson gets a whiff of your fear,” Holt said, dragging Bobbie’s attention back to her, “Owens won’t be able to keep you on the job.”
“Who the hell said anything about me being afraid?” Holt might outrank her, but Bobbie had no qualms about giving it to her straight. The only thing Bobbie was afraid of was Gwen or one of those children ending up dead before she could find and exterminate the Storyteller.
Holt shrugged as she made a left turn. “I don’t know, maybe it was the way your hands were shaking back there or the way your face is pasty white.”
“I’m afraid for Gwen and those children.” No point lying about that part.
“This sicko has come back for you, Gentry,” Holt said with a glance in her direction. “If you’re not just a little bit afraid for yourself, then you need more counseling.”
“I go to counseling every week.” Bobbie stared out the window. She told the shrink what he wanted to hear, and then she went about her business. No one except someone who’d had her whole life destroyed by a goddamned serial killer would understand.
After a mile or so of silence, Holt spoke again. “He won’t stop until he kills you. You know that, right?”
“Unless I kill him first,” Bobbie countered. Killing him first was all that mattered.
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” Holt made the final turn into CID and parked. “Don’t let anyone else hear you say that kind of shit, Detective.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Bobbie doubted there was anyone in the department who didn’t recognize she wanted to get the Storyteller. It was human nature. As true at that was, Holt was right. She couldn’t go around expressing the desire out loud in front of just anyone.
Holt tugged her cell from her belt as they emerged from the car. She made a couple of affirmative sounds before saying, “We’re walking in the door now.”
Bobbie reached for the door. “We got something new?”
“Gwen Adams’s boyfriend.” Holt gestured for Bobbie to go in ahead of her. “He turned himself in. LeDoux is headed here to interview him.”
“Any chance I can sit in on that interview?”
Holt paused in the middle of the lobby and eyed her for a long moment.
“I mean—” Bobbie shrugged “—I know LeDoux won’t like it...”
“Fuck LeDoux. Tell Bauer I said you’re taking that interview.”
Bobbie did a mental fist pump and thanked the sergeant. She dropped by her cubicle to check her messages. Nothing new. A couple of calls on cases she’d already closed. She didn’t know what she’d expected. Maybe a note from the Storyteller telling her his location and inviting her to join him. He would never be that direct. He enjoyed torturing his prey far too much to go straight to the kill.
Hang in there, Gwen. We will find you. She didn’t have to wonder if the nurse would take care of the kids. If she was alive and able, she would. Maybe her boyfriend would give them something to go on. Any lead would be better than the nothing they had right now.
“What the hell’s going on, Bobbie?”
She turned at the sound of her partner’s voice. Dressed in an elegant black tux, he stopped at her cubicle, his face tight with worry.
“What’re you doing here?” Bobbie glanced at the clock hanging on the wall above the side exit. “Your daughter is getting married in one hour. You’d better haul yourself back over to tha
t church.” Had Newt lost his mind? His wife would wring his neck.
“Bauer said two children are missing.” Newt tugged at his bow tie and grimaced.
“It’s him,” she said, answering the question she saw in his eyes. “He instructed the mothers to talk to no one except me.” Fury ignited anew inside her.
Newt shook his head and muttered a curse. “You holding up okay?”
She wished people would stop asking her if she was okay. Two children were missing. Gwen was missing. No, she was not okay. She glanced around to ensure no one was nearby. Most of the detectives were in the field. “We don’t have the first lead—does that answer your question?”
He dropped his head. “Sweet Jesus.”
“Remember you said you’d seen that Shade character around?”
Newt lifted his head and met her gaze once more, his face furrowed with the same worry writhing inside her. “Yeah. A couple of times. I’m pretty sure he wanted me to see him.”
“He came to my house.”
Newt’s eyebrows shot upward. “When did this happen?”
“Last night.” She rubbed at the tension in her neck. “A couple hours after I talked to you, he showed up at my door.”
“What did he want?”
“To talk.” Bobbie shouldn’t have brought it up. Newt had a wedding to get back to. “He warned me to be careful.” She had no intention of telling Newt or anyone else the rest of what Shade said. She knew her partner too well. He would try to protect her and get himself killed. This was her fight.
Newt nodded. “I knew it. He’s here for Perry. I suspected as much when he came to see you in the hospital.”
Urgent whispers sifted through her mind. “You’re confident this guy is on the up-and-up?” If Shade was after the Storyteller, too, she needed to know. She didn’t want him getting in her way.
“According to Agent Jessup, he’s the real deal.” Newt shrugged and added, “If you ask me, the guy’s psychic or something. Jessup suggested he knows stuff no one else does.”
“So why haven’t I heard about him?” She shrugged. “I mean, if he’s such a superhero, why isn’t his name familiar?”
“He doesn’t like the limelight,” Newt said. “That’s what I made of Jessup’s assessment. He hunts serial killers and he’s very good at it. If there’s more to know, it’s above my pay grade.”
“Is he a vigilante?” Doubtful, she decided. He’d be all over the news if that were the case. Blood and guts always led the headlines. Which was all the more reason she didn’t want him getting between her and the Storyteller. She didn’t want Perry captured and thrust into the justice system, she wanted him dead.
“The one case I know for a fact he was responsible for closing was the Black Widow investigation over in Atlanta.” Newt pinched his lips together in concentration. “The one where the woman was using an online dating community to off older guys who used Viagra and dated younger women.”
Bobbie vaguely remembered the case. “I thought some firefighter found her or something.”
“They did. She was tied up in her bedroom with all the photos she’d taken of the men she’d murdered.”
“Shade set a fire and left her there?” Not that Bobbie felt any sympathy for a woman who’d murdered a dozen men.
“There was no fire. It was a false alarm.”
“Gentry!”
Bauer hustled over to her cubicle. He looked Newt up and down. “Don’t you have a wedding in like forty-five minutes or something?”
Newt heaved a sigh. “I have to go, but I will be back in a few hours.”
Bobbie waved him off. “Go. I don’t want to see you again until tomorrow.” She knew him too well to believe for a second that he’d stay gone that long.
As Newt hurried away, Bauer motioned for her to follow him. “Come on. LeDoux is about to interview the nurse’s boyfriend. Holt said you’re supposed to be in there.”
“Thanks, Bauer.” No one wanted to hear what the lowlife boyfriend had to say more than she did.
Liam Neely was thirty-one years old and hadn’t had a steady job since his paper route back in middle school. Six feet, 170 pounds, with thick, slicked-back black hair and deep blue eyes, he was quite a handsome man and undeniably charming—which was how smart women like Gwen Adams wound up supporting his sorry ass.
“Mr. Neely, you’ve been advised of your rights,” LeDoux said, “but before we proceed, are you certain you wish to waive your right to an attorney?”
Bobbie wanted to slap him. The idiot had already stated he didn’t want an attorney. Was LeDoux trying to help him change his mind? Bobbie clamped her jaw shut and kept her thoughts to herself.
“I had nothing to do with Gwen’s disappearance,” Neely said, holding his hands up in the air as if to prove he had nothing to hide.
“Why don’t you start from the beginning,” LeDoux suggested, “and tell us what you know about Gwen’s most recent interaction with Carl Evans and her subsequent disappearance.”
“Evans needed money. His kid’s real sick, and he was tapped out.” He clasped his hands on the table. “About a week ago, he asked Gwen to help him. He wanted a copy of Detective Gentry’s medical records.” He glanced at Bobbie. “Gwen told him no. She was real upset about it because she wanted to help the kid, but she couldn’t do it. She was like that, you know. Ethical and all.”
Bobbie tensed at his use of was.
“Was?” LeDoux frowned. “You spoke about her in the past tense. Is there something we should know about Gwen’s welfare beyond the fact that she’s missing?”
“No way, man.” Neely held up his hands again. “It’s not like that. It’s just that, hell, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out she’s fucked. Nobody survives the Storyteller.”
The silence in the room expanded while Bobbie struggled with the emotions determined to undo her. “Are you sure about that, Mr. Neely?”
Neely glanced at her again. “You know what I mean. Most don’t survive.”
“Did Gwen ever mention why Carl wanted the records?” LeDoux sipped his coffee and stared expectantly at Neely.
“She didn’t tell me nothing except she couldn’t help him.” He studied his fingers. “I went to Carl myself and asked him what was going on. He said this guy on the internet had contacted him. Said he had the answer to his problems.”
“So,” LeDoux went on, “if Gwen refused to give him the files, how did Carl Evans end up with the medical records?”
Neely looked from LeDoux to Bobbie and back. “You said if I told you the truth, you wouldn’t arrest me.”
“That’s correct,” LeDoux confirmed. “I have no interest in arresting you, Mr. Neely. I only want to find Gwen and two missing children. If you can help me, I would sincerely appreciate it. I’m certain you want your girlfriend to be found alive.”
He nodded. “Yeah. I do. Absolutely. I would have come forward sooner but I was afraid you’d think I had something to do with her disappearance and I didn’t. I swear to God, I didn’t have nothing to do with that part.”
“Why don’t you tell us what happened after she told Evans no,” LeDoux suggested in the casual, I’m-your-friend voice interrogators used with guys like Neely.
Bobbie wanted to reach across the table and shake the idiot. He didn’t really care about Gwen. He only cared that he didn’t get blamed for anything.
“I felt real bad for the kid, you know.” Neely stared at the table now, glancing up only occasionally to prevent anyone seeing the lie in his eyes. “So I went to Carl and told him I would help him.”
“Help him how?” LeDoux coaxed.
“Sometimes Gwen works from home. Doing paperwork, catching up, stuff like that. She keeps all her passwords for her online stuff written down in a journal in her desk. I got on her computer
and checked her search history. It was easy to find where she accessed the different databases for her patients.” He shrugged. “I logged on, located the records Carl needed, downloaded them and forwarded them to him.” He shook his head. “I know it was wrong, but it was for the kid. I just wanted to help, that’s all.”
Fury rushed through Bobbie. What a stupid-ass jerk.
“Did Evans show his gratitude in any way for how you helped him?” LeDoux asked, providing the rope Neely needed to hang himself.
“Only ten thousand,” Neely said. “He needed the rest of the hundred grand for the kid. I wouldn’t accept more than that.”
“What happened when Gwen found out?” LeDoux prompted.
Neely sighed. “She told me to get out and never come back.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Maybe if I’d been there, that twisted motherfucker wouldn’t have gotten his hands on her.”
Yeah right. Bobbie struggled not to roll her eyes.
“Have you spoken to her since that time?” LeDoux asked.
The dumbass shook his head. “She wouldn’t take my calls.”
The door eased open, and Bobbie glanced that way. Bauer motioned for her. Since Neely was doing nothing at this point but whining about how much he loved Gwen and how he wished he’d done this or that differently, Bobbie felt confident she wouldn’t miss a thing. To LeDoux she said, “Excuse me.” She stood and moved to the door.
“What’s up?” she whispered with a glance over her shoulder at the table where Neely had lapsed into tears and dropped his face into his hands. Did the guy really believe that act was going to save him?
“They found Scott Taggart’s body.”
Bobbie jolted. She had hoped they would find the MIA father, but she hadn’t expected him to be dead. “What happened?”
Bauer made a pained face. “Damn, Bobbie, it’s not easy to tell you this.”
