by Cindi Myers
“Nowhere,” Gage said. “We haven’t found anyone else who saw her, or any blonde woman who lives out that way. In fact, no one lives out that way.”
“What about the bank employees?” Travis asked.
“I interviewed all the employees,” Jamie said. She checked her notes. “One woman, Janis Endicott, remembers Michaela talking about Al, but none of them remember seeing him or could give any new details.”
“Anything else on this case?” Travis asked. “Any thoughts or insights any of you might have had about it?”
“I thought of one thing,” Jamie said. When every head swiveled to look at her, she fought down a blush and forced herself to keep her voice steady. “While the other women who were killed seemed like crimes of opportunity, he apparently targeted Michaela.”
“We could be dealing with a copycat,” Dwight said.
“Maybe,” Travis said. “Though nothing we’ve learned about Michaela points to her having an enemy who would want to kill her. And we can’t be sure our killer didn’t target and stalk any of the other women.” He turned to Jamie. “That’s good thinking, Deputy.”
She swallowed, steeling herself for her next words. “I also thought maybe we should give the killer a target and see if he takes the bait.”
“What are you talking about?” Nate hadn’t said anything so far in the meeting, but he spoke up now.
Jamie shifted in her chair. She had lain awake a long time last night, thinking about this. “I could drive around, out of uniform and in my personal vehicle, in some of the areas we know he’s killed other women and see if anyone behaves suspiciously.”
“No.” Nate spoke loudly and leaned across the table toward her.
She shrank back. “I’d be smart,” she said. “And we could have other officers watching me.”
“It might not be a bad idea,” Travis said. “You wouldn’t have to be alone. We could have another officer hidden in the car with you.”
Nate leaned back in his chair, silent, though he continued to glare at Jamie. She ignored him. “I think it’s worth a try,” she said.
Travis nodded. “I think so, too. We’ll set something up for this evening. Dwight, you can go with her.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jamie struggled to remain composed, even as an adrenaline rush at the thought of possibly facing down a killer—or helping to capture him—made it difficult to sit still.
The rest of the meeting was a blur of routine announcements about training, schedules and upcoming events—including the masquerade party on Friday. When the sheriff dismissed them, she rose and left the room, intending to head out on patrol. Nate followed on her heels. “Jamie, wait up.”
She stopped and looked back at him as he limped down the hallway toward her. “If you’re going to lecture me about how I shouldn’t put myself out there as bait for a killer, don’t waste your breath,” she said. “I’ll be perfectly safe.”
“More like it will all be a waste of time,” he said. “I think this guy is too smart to fall for a trap like that.”
“It’s worth a try,” she said.
He nodded. “I wish I could go with you.”
She looked down at the cast on his foot. “I suppose you could bash the killer over the head with your crutches.”
He laughed. “Yeah, well, just be careful.”
“I’m always careful,” she said.
“Yeah, you are, aren’t you?”
How was she supposed to interpret the look he gave her? Equal parts frustration and—was that pity? She shook her head. She was imagining things. Nate might still have a few feelings for the girl she had been, but he didn’t know enough about her now to really care.
* * *
“OFFICER HALL, AREN’T you supposed to be home, resting?”
Nate did his best to stand up straight—despite his cast and crutches—as he swiveled to face Adelaide. The septuagenarian eyed him over the top of purple-framed bifocals, her gaze taking in his khaki uniform. “Surely you aren’t on duty?”
“I came in to give the sheriff my formal statement about what happened yesterday,” Nate said. “And I’m in uniform because I’m here in an official capacity, as an officer of Parks and Wildlife.” That was what he had told himself, anyway. It didn’t feel right to show up at the sheriff’s department in civilian clothing. Whether it was the uniform or the sheriff feeling sorry for him, Travis had asked Nate to sit in on the morning meeting.
“How long are you going to be laid up with your injuries?” Adelaide asked.
“Six weeks. Maybe less.” He was determined to get back to work as swiftly as possible. The idea of sitting around the house with his foot up for the next month and a half was beyond depressing.
“If you’re determined to be up and about so soon, you should come to the masquerade ball this Friday night.” Adelaide handed him a postcard. The front of the card showed an attractive woman with a black, feathered mask hiding her features. “Proceeds benefit the folks here in Eagle Mountain who have been hit hardest by the heavy snow and road closures. There will be food, music and dancing, and prizes for the best costumes.”
“I don’t think I’ll be doing any dancing just yet,” Nate said. He tried to hand the card back to Adelaide, but she refused to take it.
“You can sit, have a drink and something to eat, and enjoy seeing everyone’s costumes.”
“What are you coming as?” he asked Adelaide.
The devilish look that came into her fading blue eyes made him take a step back. “You’ll just have to wait and see. One more reason for you to show up.”
“I’ll, uh, think about it.” He retreated to the door, moving faster than he would have thought possible in his condition.
His next stop was the grocery store. If he was going to be sitting home for the next few weeks, he needed to stock up on snacks and easy meals. He made his way to the produce section and was sizing up the potatoes when a familiar voice hailed him. “Hello, Officer Nate.”
Smiling, he turned to greet Donna Douglas. Jamie’s sister wore one of the grocery’s blue aprons over a green sweater and jeans, her curly brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. He had never paid much attention to her when he and Jamie were dating. He’d thought of her as just a kid, seeming younger than her years because of her mental disability. “Hello, Donna,” he said.
“You’re Jamie’s friend.” Donna grinned. “Her boyfriend.”
How was he supposed to answer that? “Jamie and I are friends.”
“What happened to your foot?” She stared at the blue Aircast encasing his left foot.
“I hurt it at work.”
“What kind of work do you do?”
“I work for Parks and Wildlife.”
“I remember now. We met you when we were snowshoeing. Did a big animal step on your foot?”
“Not exactly.”
“Hey, Donna.”
They turned to see a stocky, moon-faced young man wheeling a produce cart toward them. His blue eyes shone from behind his black-framed glasses as he grinned at Donna. Donna grinned back. It made Nate think of cartoons he had seen as a child, where a pair of lovers looked at each other and hearts exploded in the air around them. He couldn’t see any hearts around these two, but he had no doubt they were there.
“This is Henry.” Donna took the young man’s hand when he stopped beside them. “He’s my boyfriend.”
Henry nodded. “Donna’s my girlfriend.”
“You look like you make a good couple,” Nate said.
“Thanks.” Donna released Henry’s hand. “I have to get back to work,” she said. “We don’t want to get in trouble.” She waved to Nate and hurried back toward the register area.
“Me, too,” Henry said. He began unloading apples from a box on a cart, arranging them in a neat pyramid. “You should buy an apple.�
�� He handed Nate a large red fruit. “They’re very good, and good for you.”
“I think I will.” Nate pulled a plastic bag from the roll at one end of the bin and selected three more apples to go with the one Henry had given him.
“Are you a police officer?” Henry was staring at Nate’s khaki uniform and gun.
“A kind of police officer, yes.” He didn’t mention Parks and Wildlife. When he named his employer, people invariably thought he was a park ranger, not a cop. Never mind that he had the same training as any other law enforcement officer. He wrote tickets, investigated crimes and made arrests all the time as part of his job. And most of the lawbreakers he faced met up with him when he was alone in the wilderness—and almost all of them carried guns.
“Do you know anything about all those women who died?”
Henry’s question startled him, but he told himself it shouldn’t have surprised him. The Ice Cold Killer was the number one topic of conversation in Eagle Mountain these days. Henry had probably heard his customers and his family talking about the case.
“I’m trying to help find the man who killed those women,” Nate said.
“Michaela was my friend.” Henry’s mouth turned down, and his lip quivered. He sniffed. “She worked at the bank and she helped me with my account.”
“I’m very sorry you lost your friend,” Nate said.
“I saw her the day before she died. She came in here to the store. She did that sometimes. She would buy a salad or fruit for her lunch and say hello to me.”
“That’s good that you got to see her.”
Henry was frowning—or maybe concentrating very hard. Nate couldn’t tell. “She was with a man,” Henry said. “They were laughing and she was smiling at him—different from the way she smiled at me.”
The hair on the back of Nate’s neck stood up. “Who was the man, do you know?”
Henry shook his head. “I didn’t know him. But I think maybe he was her boyfriend.”
Nate set the bag of apples in his cart and moved closer to Henry, the way he might approach a skittish deer. “Henry, do you think you would recognize that man if you saw him again?”
He nodded. “I think so. I’m pretty good at remembering people.”
“Could you come to the sheriff’s department with me and tell them what you told me, and maybe describe the man to them?”
Henry’s frown deepened. “I can’t come now. I have to work.” His voice rose. A couple of shoppers turned to stare.
“What time do you get off work?” Nate asked.
Henry tilted his head to one side, thinking. “I get off today at three o’clock,” he said.
“If I come back here at three, will you go to the sheriff’s office with me?” Nate asked. “Just for a little bit?”
Henry shrugged. “I guess so. Is it important?”
“Yes. It’s important.”
“Okay.” He turned back to arranging the apples. “See you at three.”
Nate finished his shopping, his mind racing. If Henry was telling the truth—and he would have no reason to lie—then he might have seen Michaela with her killer. This might be the break they had been waiting for.
Chapter Eight
Jamie didn’t make it back to the grocery store until three fifteen. Donna got off at three, so Jamie reasoned this would be a good opportunity for her to meet Henry without upsetting her sister if things didn’t go well. “I’m looking for someone named Henry, who works in your produce department,” she told the young woman at the office, whose name tag identified her as Veronique.
“Henry?” Veronique’s eyebrows rose. “He’s not in any kind of trouble, is he?”
“No, no. I just wanted to meet him. He’s, uh, he’s friends with my sister, Donna.”
“Oh, Donna! Of course.” Veronique brightened. “She and Henry left at three. He said something about walking her home.” She giggled. “They’re so cute together.”
So much for Jamie’s plan to meet Henry alone. “What is Henry like?” she asked.
“Oh, he’s a good kid. Like Donna. He came to us from the same program.”
“You mean, he’s developmentally disabled, too.”
“Yeah. Down syndrome, I think. But a good worker. Friendly. Customers like him. They like Donna, too.”
“How old is he?”
“Early twenties. He lives with his mother, I think. Why do you want to know?”
“Donna says he’s her boyfriend.”
Veronique giggled again. “Yeah, those two are really sweet on each other. It’s cute.”
“Thanks.” Jamie left the store and returned to her cruiser. Henry didn’t sound like a serial killer who was going to lure her sister to a remote location and kill her. But she still wanted to meet him. She checked her watch. They might already be at Mrs. Simmons’s, but since they were on foot, and Donna was never one to hurry, Jamie ought to be able to catch up with them en route and introduce herself.
She cruised slowly through the streets of Eagle Mountain, waving to people she passed and keeping an eye out for her sister and the mysterious Henry. She pulled into Mrs. Simmons’s driveway, wondering if her sister had arrived ahead of her. She hoped Henry hadn’t already left. Knowing Mrs. Simmons, she would have invited him in.
The sitter met Jamie on the front porch. “I was getting ready to call you,” she said, before Jamie could speak. “Donna isn’t here. It’s not like her to be so late.’
Jamie tried to push back the fear that climbed in her throat and the painful drumming of her heart. “She left the store at three,” she said. “And I didn’t see her on the drive over. Maybe I misunderstood where she was going.” She squeezed Mrs. Simmons’s clasped hands. “I’ll go back to the store and talk to them again. Call me right away if she shows up.”
Mrs. Simmons nodded, her face creased with worry.
Before heading to the store, Jamie stopped at her house. Donna was always going on about wanting to stay by herself. Maybe when she said she was going home, she meant exactly that, and she had brought Henry here to the house.
But the house was locked up tight, and only the dogs responded to Jamie’s calls.
Back at the store, Jamie had to hunt up Veronique in the bakery, where she was accepting an order from a vendor. “Are you sure Donna and Henry said they were headed home?” she asked.
“Yes.” Veronique looked up from her clipboard. “I spoke to him myself when he was punching out.”
“Maybe he meant his home. Can you give me his parents’ number?”
Veronique’s brow furrowed. “We’re not supposed to give out personal information about our employees.”
“I’m a sheriff’s deputy. And I’m trying to make sure my sister is safe.” Jamie couldn’t rein in her impatience.
“Oh, uh, okay.”
Jamie followed the woman to the front office, and a few moments later was dialing the number for Mrs. O’Keefe. While she listened to the phone ring, she thought about the approach she should take with these people. She didn’t want to send them into a panic. “Hello?” a woman answered.
“Hello, Mrs. O’Keefe?”
“Yes.”
“This is Jamie Douglas. I’m Donna Douglas’s sister. She works with your son, Henry, at the grocery store.”
“Oh, yes,” the woman’s voice softened. “We’ve met Donna before.” She chuckled. “Henry is quite taken with her.’
“Have you seen Henry, or talked to him, since he got off work at three?”
“No. He mentioned this morning that he was going to walk Donna to the house where she stays every afternoon while you work. It’s only a few blocks, and we do like to encourage Henry to be as independent as possible. He’s really very responsible.”
Jamie took a deep breath. She hated worrying this woman, who sounded very nice. But in Mrs. O’Keefe’
s position, she would want to know. “Donna and Henry never showed up at the sitter’s,” she said. “I’m trying to find them now.”
“Oh, no! That doesn’t sound like Henry at all.” Her voice broke. “You don’t think this horrible killer has decided to go after them, do you?”
“I’m sure that’s not it,” Jamie said, as much to reassure herself as to allay Mrs. O’Keefe’s fears. “They probably decided to stop off at a restaurant or something. Donna mentioned this morning that she and Henry wanted to go on a date.”
“Yes. Yes, that sounds reasonable.” Mrs. O’Keefe was clearly trying to keep it together.
“I’m a sheriff’s deputy,” Jamie said. “We’ll start looking for them right away. I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.”
“Please do. This is so unlike Henry. He’s such a good boy. Well, he’s a man now, of course, but he’ll always be my boy.”
“I understand.” Jamie sometimes had to remind herself that, while Donna would always be her little sister, she was a grown woman.
“Is everything all right?” Veronique asked when Jamie ended the call.
“I’m sure they’re fine,” Jamie said. “I’m going to look for them.”
She checked the most likely spots first—the Cakewalk Café, Peggy’s Pizza and Kate’s—but no one had seen Donna or Henry, together or alone. As Jamie cruised down Eagle Mountain’s main drag, she scanned the sidewalks and shops for any sign of the two young people.
Tense with worry, she headed for the sheriff’s department. She hated to involve the department in her family’s business, but she needed her fellow officers’ help in tracking down Donna and Henry before they got into trouble. Anyone could take advantage of two such trusting souls.
She parked on the street and entered through the front door. If Travis wasn’t in his office, Adelaide would know where to find him.
But when Jamie approached Adelaide’s desk, she discovered the office manager wasn’t alone. “Hey, Jamie!” Donna stood and hurried around Adelaide’s desk to hug her sister.
Jamie hugged her back and had to wait a few seconds before she felt safe speaking. “What are you doing here?” she asked Donna.
