by D. K. Hood
“That’s okay.” His voice had lowered to the caring tone he used when she became angry with him. “I’ll pick out a suitable mount for you. What color do you prefer? I don’t want to buy something you’ll hate.”
Laughter bubbled at his serious expression and the tension of the day lifted from her shoulders. She grinned and tapped her bottom lip as if trying to make up her mind. “Well, let me see, black goes with everything, but then so does white.”
“I hope we can find something to suit you.” Kane’s lips curled into a smile. “We’ll be able to take them today. The stables are ready and I have a horse float.”
Jenna stared at him. “You have a horse float?”
“Yeah, I had it delivered to Gloria’s ranch on Friday.” He rolled his broad shoulders and suddenly looked abashed. “She is very, ah, accommodating. Rowley introduced her to me the other day in Aunt Betty’s.”
Jenna headed for the door. “Really? You’ve never mentioned meeting her before.”
“I didn’t think it was a relevant part of the current caseload, ma’am.” He attached a leash to Duke’s collar and straightened.
She noted the high color in his cheeks and bit back a snort of laughter. “That’s why you want me along, isn’t it? So she doesn’t hit on you again.”
His expression had closed into his professional persona and he ignored her question. After working with Kane for almost a year, she knew by his face that the subject of Gloria Smithers was not open for discussion. Hmm, maybe he likes her.
As they headed out to Gloria Smithers’ ranch, Jenna looked through her notes. None of the victims’ associates were involved in the case. The victims had no social life, no friends or workmates they hung out with at weekends. Every person they spoke to led to another dead end. Apart from the fact the two murder victims worked at Party Time, they had nothing to prove they as much as spoke to each other outside of work. It made sense that if a group of men visited the girls on a regular basis, they would have been friends for some time. The men in the group trusted one another and obviously planned each meeting with care. The fact they had been very careful not to allow themselves to be recognized in any of the images they had found made her wonder just how many men were involved. The girls mentioned four men, but she could not be sure if they were the same four men. She rubbed the tip of her nose. The only conclusion she could come up with was the men met years ago, maybe as teenagers, and yet nothing her deputies had discovered pointed to anything other than the two working for Party Time. She had to dig deeper. But where?
She glanced at Kane. “Do you think the killer was either a victim of abuse or a relative of one of the girls they molested?”
“So far all the relatives we’ve found have sound alibis for the time of death of both victims.” Kane shrugged. “Although we are assuming the six missing girls we know about are the extent of the pedophiles’ activities; there could be more. Then add the fact it is all assumption; we don’t have proof any of these missing girls were involved with our victims.” He sighed. “The killer being a victim of abuse is the more likely case.”
Jenna scanned her notebook as if the proof she needed would suddenly jump out at her. “Revenge is the only motive for Price and Dorsey I have. The problem is, all missing kids are still missing, which leaves us with the three women molested as kids: Lizzy Harper, Angelique Booval, and Pattie McCarthy.”
“Pushing them for information will be difficult; maybe you’ll have a better chance. They don’t want me to speak with them.”
She let out a huge sigh. The masks were significant. If the group of men used the masks as a regular disguise, it would have started from the get-go and would have left a lasting impression on the girls. Her three suspects held key information on the identities of the others in the group of molesters, although getting them to admit or identify any of the men involved was proving difficult. Her thoughts turned to Angelique Booval. The interview with her the following day might give her the breakthrough she needed to solve the case.
She glanced at Kane, who appeared deep in thought. “Did the Booval brothers mention anything about their sister’s whereabouts during the murders?”
“They did mention she was in town but apparently she won’t go near them in costume; clowns frighten her.” Kane’s head remained face front, staring at the road. “Another suspect was in town that day as well. I saw Pattie McCarthy heading away from Stu Macgregor, who was wearing a clown costume. Maybe she doesn’t like clowns either.”
Jenna stared at him in surprise. “That’s not a reason to kill someone. Many people hate clowns—it’s a real phobia.”
“Sure is. It goes by the name of coulrophobia but I don’t think that particular phobia is what our killer suffers from.” Kane’s blue gaze met hers for a few seconds before returning to the road. “In my opinion, the vigilante has a form of PTSD and something triggered an episode and set them off on this killing spree.”
“I can relate to that. In fact, I’m not surprised the murders happened when we have a festival in town. Entertainers are all over: the ones in the park and the magician on the sidewalk. I need to find out if Price and Dorsey worked the streets in some capacity last week as well.” She made a note in her notebook. “I’ll find out if Party Time knows anything.”
“I checked that already.” Kane sighed. “Party Time isn’t involved in the street festivals. The local town councils organize and pay the entertainers.”
“Okay.” She looked back at Kane. “So we know Harper and McCarthy were in the vicinity at the time of both murders and Angelique Booval was in Black Rock Falls the day Ely Dorsey died. We need to know if Booval was in town the day Price died.”
“We’ll ask her in the morning.” Kane turned into a driveway. “Here we are now.”
Jenna glanced up as they entered a sweeping driveway with white fenced areas of land each side containing numerous horses. “This place is huge.”
“Yeah, Gloria has a few different breeds here, I gather.” Kane drove to the steps of a white ranch of considerable size. “She has picked out a few mounts we might find suitable.”
The moment the car pulled up at the front steps, the door flew open and out stepped a voluptuous woman in her late twenties with flowing red hair and wearing jeans so tight if she had varicose veins, Jenna would have been able to see them. As Kane slid from the driver’s seat, the woman grabbed him and kissed him on both cheeks.
“Dave, how wonderful to see you again.” The woman linked her arm with his as if she had known him for years. “I’m so glad you could make it.”
“So am I. Do you mind if I bring the dog along?”
“Of course not, silly.” She beamed up at him.
Jenna climbed from the SUV and went to Kane’s side. “You must be Miss Smithers. I gather you have some horses for sale?”
“Ah, yes.” Kane turned and gave her a stony look. “Gloria, this is Sheriff Jenna Alton.”
Gloria hardly acknowledged Jenna’s presence but towed Kane toward a big barn set some way from the ranch. Jenna could hear them chatting in low voices and her instinct told her to get back in the car and wait, but she pushed down her bubbling resentment toward the woman and caught up to them. She forced her lips into a smile. “Do you live here alone, Miss Smithers?”
“Of course not. How could I run a place like this alone?” Gloria turned her attention back to Kane. “There is a black gelding I think will be perfect, and a choice of two mares. The bay is very quiet, for the more inexperienced rider.” She shot an almost pitying glance at Jenna. “Then there is a white Arab; she is a little headstrong but sound.”
Jenna could not help herself and touched Kane’s arm. “I like a horse with spirit.”
“I’ll have Arnie saddle them for you.” Gloria led the way into a massive barn and detached herself from Kane to speak to one of her staff.
Jenna turned to him. “Nice lady. I wonder why she’s not married.”
“I have no idea.” Kane’s mouth turne
d down and he bent to rub Duke’s ears.
“She likes you.” Jenna stared after Gloria. “Why don’t you ask her out on a date?”
“She’s not my type, and for the record, I have no intention of dating anyone.” Kane’s eyes rolled skyward. “I’m here to buy a horse.” His lips twitched. “You do know the meaning of the word schmoozing, right? Being nice to the right people when you want something is how things are done around these parts.” He turned his gaze back to the returning Gloria and smiled. “Trust me, I’m an expert.”
32
Jane Stickler stared into the shadows in her room at the hospital. The quiet was driving her crazy. The sheriff’s department had closed the entire floor she was on, and during the day, a deputy sat on duty beside the elevators. The nurse had insisted she was safe overnight as the hospital restricted access to the wards. Yet only one nurse sat at the nurses’ station all night and most times reading a book.
Apparently, no one could find her but her stomach ached at the thought of the interview with the sheriff in the morning. Ely was dead, so why did they need any more information? She chewed on what was left of her nails, wondering what they would ask her. Embarrassment heated her cheeks. She could not tell them everything—it was just too awful. The drugs the doctors had given her made her brain slow and she couldn’t think straight. She glanced at the digital readout on the clock above her bed; it was after midnight and she had dozed for three hours after taking the medication, but now fully awake, she just wanted to go home.
She wondered if her room would be the same or if her parents had thrown out her things. They had been strange when they arrived. They looked so much older and she hardly recognized them. It was as if two strangers had walked into her room. She had been so excited to see them and desperately needed a hug but they had not so much as touched her hand. In fact, they seemed ashamed of her, sitting well away from her as if she had some contagious disease. Her mom hadn’t mentioned taking her home at all and left without saying when or if they would return.
Thank God, Adam had arrived soon after the sheriff dropped her at the hospital. Her brother left her for an hour then returned laden with everything she would need: nightgowns, toiletries, and clothes. Sure, some of the things were a little big, but she had not had anything of her own to wear in eight years. Her brother had grown up to be a very kind man and had offered to take her to his house in Black Rock Falls.
A noise in the hallway caught her attention and she looked through the glass panel in the door, expecting to see the deputy who walked past and peered at her on the hour every day. Panic hit her like a blow to the gut as the dim lighting hit a clown face. Ely was coming and he would kill her for telling the sheriff about the others. Frozen with terror, her gaze fixed on the man strolling slowly along the passageway. No, it could not possibly be him. The sheriff had told her Ely was dead but his words filled her head as if he stood next to her whispering in her ear. If you say a word to anyone, we will find you. There is no place to hide. We will kill you and your family.
Heart racing, she gasped for breath and slipped from the bed. She had to get away. After pushing the pillow under the covers to make it appear she was sleeping, she ducked under the bed and lay on the cold tile. As the door pushed silently open, the man moved into the room. She heard him breathing. The blankets came off the bed in a whoosh and the man swore.
“Where are you, bitch?”
His feet moved inches from her nose, and she let out a gasp. The next moment, the hideous smiling face peered at her.
“Get out from under there and get into bed or I’m taking you back where you belong.”
She recognized the voice as one of the men who used to visit her, the mean one with the green eyes. She backed away. “I’ll scream and the nurse will come.”
“No one is coming. All the nurses are having a nice sleep and you are the only patient on this floor. The other kid went home.” He leaned in and grabbed her by the hair. “Do as I say and I’ll be nice, or you’ll suffer. Your choice.”
Trembling with fear, she eased out from under the bed, the smell of him bringing back a rush of terrible dark memories. “Let go of me and I’ll do what you say.”
“I know you will.” He stepped back a pace. The grinning red lips stretched wide on his white face sent tremors of disgust through her.
A shaft of light lit up the room and a small figure dressed in black with their face covered in a ski mask stood in the doorway.
“Who the hell are you supposed to be?” He turned away. “Get out of here, kid.”
As the figure moved into the room leaving the door wide open, Jane inched her way around the foot of the bed. If she could make it out of the door, she could find help.
Without warning, the figure lunged toward the clown, and Jane heard a voice.
“Run!”
She didn’t wait and hurtled toward the door. The clown’s large hands grasped at her nightgown but she slipped away and edged out into the hall.
“Leave her alone.” The figure stepped in his way. “Run and don’t look back.”
The clown bellowed with rage and Jane heard a loud thump as he plowed a fist into the stranger. “I’ll deal with you next, kid.”
Terrified, she forced her legs to move and ran out the door then pelted down the dimly lit corridor toward the nurses’ station. The place was deserted, and behind her, she could hear the clown swearing at the woman. I need to get help.
Her feet clad only in socks slipped on the polished floor and she bounced off the walls in a desperate attempt to get away. Safety was not far but seemed to be miles away. She screamed as loud as possible. Someone must be around in a hospital and might hear her. “Help me! Help me!”
Her screams echoed down the empty corridors but no one came. Desperate for help, she ran past the doors to the other rooms, peering through the small windows, but no other patients occupied the rooms. She remembered something her brother had told her earlier—she was in a ward on a floor all to herself. For her own safety. Breathless, she ran for her life and slid to a stop, gaping in disbelief at the nurse behind the counter. The night nurse lolled back in her chair, eyes closed. Jane banged her fists on the desk.
“Wake up, I need help.”
The woman did not move.
She slapped at the counter, sending papers spilling to the floor. “Help me.” She stared at the nurse, waiting for her to take a breath.
The nurse’s chest did not move.
Had he killed them all?
Desperate to get away, she glanced in all directions. The elevator doors loomed in the distance, the metal glistening like the pearly gates. If she could make it to the elevator, she might get away. She took off at a sprint. I can make it.
She turned to see him strolling slowly toward her, his grotesque mask grinning.
“I’m coming.” He chuckled deep and low. “I’m going to kill you.”
Her chest tightened and her heart beat so fast it nearly burst through her ribs. His footsteps sounded behind her, and with each measured step, he taunted her.
“You can’t get away from me.”
He was gaining on her but she still had time. She slid into the wall beside the elevator, dragged in a breath, and slammed her trembling palm on the button on the panel beside the door. Machinery whirred and lights lit up on the screen showing the floors. The elevator was on the bottom floor and she was at the very top. “Come on, come on.” She pounded the button and stared at the readout as it seemed to creep up the floors in slow motion.
Five more floors to go, three more to go, two more. It was moving fast now.
He was faster.
“Got you.” He slammed her into the wall, forcing the air from her lungs.
The elevator doors slid open. Too late; he had her. She could not breathe. His weight pinned her like a butterfly to a collector’s board. Before she could fight back, he spun her around and wrenched her arm out, and something sharp pricked her flesh. She tried to say something bu
t her mouth refused to work. She stared into his pitiless green eyes and shuddered at his disgusting red grin. I’m going to die. The world tilted then folded in at the edges.
33
Flat out on the floor of Jane’s hospital room, she gasped for breath and rolled into a ball. Pain shot through her stomach. She might have known Bobby-Joe would use his classic move on her and punch her in the guts. At least Jane had got away. She would not fail to kill him next time they met, but right now she needed to get away before he came back to kill her.
The sound of dragging came from outside the door. With one arm wrapped around her ribs, she stumbled to her feet then slid into the shadows behind the open door. Moments later, Bobby-Joe entered the room, dragging Jane by the hair. He hoisted her onto the bed, and through the crack in the door, she watched him tuck her under the blankets. The man was careful, wearing a mask and surgical gloves, and would not leave a trace of evidence. When he looked under the bed and glanced around the room, she held her breath. One on one, he would kill her.
“Dammit, now I have a kid stalking me. Not that I have to worry. I’m a ghost.” He chuckled then went back to the bed and stared down at Jane “I told you, no one gets away.” Bobby-Joe turned away and sauntered out of the room.
She waited until she heard the elevator doors close then peered around the door and stared in horror at Jane. Her face was sheet-white. She moved close to the bed and checked for a pulse in Jane’s neck. Nothing. He had killed her. Anger raged over her like a tidal wave. “I’m so sorry.”
Her first priority would be to get out of the hospital. She peered cautiously out the door then, rather than take the elevator, turned the other way and headed for the fire exit. Her ribs hurt and she had learned an important lesson. The next time she met up with Bobby-Joe, she would be carrying a weapon.
