When a Heart Stops
Page 12
Dominic’s handsome face immediately came to mind and she grinned. Yeah, maybe she should do that. Then she frowned as she remembered Lyle Ames. The man she thought she’d marry. The man who’d wanted her to be someone else. She shook her head. Where had her judgment been?
But Lyle had been so different from her father. Or so she’d thought. Not that she really had anything against her father, except the fact that he’d never been home. Never had time for anything she was interested in. He’d been passionate about his work at the law office and she’d been passionate about school and her friends.
And yet, she loved her father. Very much. She looked up to him and admired what he did.
But she didn’t want to marry a man like him.
So why was she so attracted to Dominic? A man who seemed to be very much like her father when it came to being in control and thinking he knew best about almost everything.
She sighed and let out a small groan.
Maybe she was wrong.
She felt her muscles relax a little. She pulled out her phone and sent Dominic a text, asking if he’d like to join her on the lake Saturday. Just for a couple of hours. They needed a break.
She felt slightly guilty even thinking about going out and having a good time, because she felt quite sure the killer wasn’t taking time off. But if the ones chasing him burned out, what good were they going to be to the investigation?
Walking into the den area, Serena felt peace wash over her. Even though someone had breached her security system, with the added features and a new code, she felt safe in her home once again.
Yoda nudged her hand and she gave her silky ears a scratch. Moving to the window, she looked out into her backyard. The garden took up the right-hand corner.
The sky darkened and thunder rumbled.
“Well, Yoda, I don’t think we’ll be pulling weeds this evening.”
Yoda padded to her bed in front of the fireplace and settled on it, never taking her big brown eyes from Serena’s face. She smiled. “Okay, we’ll read a book.”
She walked to the bookshelf, her mind still on the events of the day. A gentle rain began pattering against the window as she considered her options.
Her doorbell rang and she spun. “Who . . .” Uneasiness slithered through her. She walked to the front door and peeked through the side window.
Camille.
Serena cut the alarm off and opened the door. “Hey, get in here out of the rain. What are you doing here?”
Camille swiped water from her eyes and stepped inside the foyer. She looked pale and drawn, her teeth chattering in spite of the warmth of the evening.
“I went home to get some things. I thought my dad would be working. But he got home earlier than I—” She shrugged and tears welled up. She blinked them back and set her jaw. “You might say he’s still not happy with me.”
“Come on in the den. How wet are you?”
“Not too bad.” She shook her head and a few raindrops flew from her short blond strands.
Serena shut the door and pulled the girl into the den. “Have a seat. You need a towel?”
Camille sat and twisted her fingers together in front of her. “No, I’m okay. I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have just shown up here.”
“It’s all right,” Serena reassured her. “But the best place for you is Covenant House.”
Camille dropped her eyes. “Maybe. I just didn’t feel like being surrounded by a bunch of girls right now.”
So she’d sought out Serena. “What do you want me to do, darling?”
Shaking her head, Camille swiped at a stray tear. “There’s nothing you can do. I just . . . miss my mom,” she whispered. “And I think you remind me of her a little bit.”
Serena’s heart clenched. “I’m so sorry.”
Camille swallowed hard and shrugged. “It is what it is.” She sniffed. “But what’s really hard is that I didn’t just lose my mom that day, I lost my dad too. He changed overnight. It’s like he hates me because I survived the wreck and she died.”
Serena didn’t bother to try to offer reassurances. She’d only met the man one time and noticed how he could barely stand to look at Camille. “Do you look like your mom?”
“Yeah. I know that’s part of the problem. I’m a daily reminder of what he lost.”
“Instead of a daily reminder to be thankful for what he has,” Serena murmured.
At her words, Camille broke down. Sobs wrenched from the girl’s throat and all Serena could do was hold her.
Pounding on her front door caused them both to jerk. Camille shot to her feet and Serena followed.
“Oh no! That’s my dad. He must have followed me. He’s going to kill me for coming here.”
Alarmed at the words, Serena grabbed Camille’s arm. “Has he ever hit you?”
“No, but . . .”
That didn’t mean there wouldn’t be a first time.
Serena thought about the gun in her end table as she walked to the front door, forcing a calm she didn’t feel. “Who is it?”
“You got my girl in there!” Fists beat against her door.
“Mr. Nash, stop pounding on my door, please. You’re scaring us.”
Camille cringed to the side.
The racket ceased, but Serena kept a hand wrapped around her cell phone just in case. “Now, before I open the door, would you please tell me why you’re so angry?”
“You’re stealing my kid!”
“I’m doing no such thing. Camille just came for a visit—”
Camille reached around her and opened the door before Serena could stop her. “I just came to talk to her, Dad.”
Red-faced, unshaven, with rage still glittering in his eyes, the man before them snarled his disbelief. “You’re going to leave me too, aren’t you? Just like your mother.”
“Dad, you told me to leave!”
“My presence. Not the house. Now come on.” His rough hand reached out to snag his daughter’s wrist, but Serena stepped in between them before he could get a good grasp. He lurched back in surprise, uttered a few choice words, and glowered at her. But he didn’t come at her or make her feel like he planned to attack her.
“Don’t manhandle her.” Serena kept her voice low and even. “Please. She needs your help, not your anger.”
He paused and narrowed his eyes. Serena shuddered at the look in them. “You telling me how to raise my kid?”
“No sir, I’m telling you . . .” Serena stopped. She didn’t want to make things worse for Camille. “No. I’m not.”
“I didn’t think so,” he growled. Then he turned his attention back to Camille. “Get home. Now.”
Camille slid around Serena with an apologetic—and fearful—look. “I’m just going to go now.”
“You can stay here,” Serena blurted.
“No, she can’t,” he answered for Camille and shot both of them a threatening glare.
He started to walk away and Serena whispered to Camille, “You call me if you need me. Or 9-1-1, you understand?”
The girl nodded, then was gone with her father. A father who was so lost in his grief and bitterness that he couldn’t see the damage he was doing to his child. A child who’d gone looking for some love and affection and found herself pregnant.
Serena’s heart broke for both of them as she shut the door and rearmed the alarm. What could she do? What should she do?
Should she call the police? And tell them what? She was afraid a father was going to hurt his daughter, but wasn’t sure?
Right. That would go over well.
Finally, after thirty minutes of agonizing, she decided there was nothing she could do at the moment. She’d offered Camille shelter in a secure place at Covenant House and Camille had chosen not to stay.
Still . . .
Serena pulled out her phone and texted, ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?
Relief filled her at the immediate reply. YES. HE’LL GO TO SLEEP AND IGNORE ME. I’M FINE. SORRY FOR THE TROUBLE.
I WILL.
With a sigh and prayer for Camille’s safety, Serena tucked her phone away and turned her mind back to her original plan, hoping to relax and forget her world for a few moments.
Which brought her attention back to the books.
A good suspense? She grimaced. No way, the last thing she needed was more suspense in her life. She needed some comic relief. Serena looked over at Yoda who still watched her. “How about some laughs?”
She wondered if she’d find any laughter, though. Camille’s situation still weighed heavy on her heart even though the girl had promised she was all right and would call for help if she needed it.
Yoda cocked her head and lifted an ear.
Serena reached for the pink covered book and froze as her gaze landed on the shelf above.
Her high school albums.
She whispered aloud, “Eenie meenie miney moe, a killin’ I will go. It’s my game, it’s my fun, the next to die is someone you know.”
Someone you know.
First Devin, then Leslie.
Both from her high school graduating class.
As though in a trance, she settled her hand on her senior year album and pulled it from the shelf. As she walked to the couch, she opened the album. Serena sat down and flipped to the first page of student photos. Not even Chewie’s sudden appearance distracted her.
Frozen in time, the faces of smiling classmates from ten years ago stared up at her. One by one, she studied their faces, then turned the page. She’d graduated from a large high school with about five hundred students in her senior class. But as her eyes ran over each face, memories washed over her.
And there was Jillian Carter. Blond curly hair and sky blue eyes. Her porcelain features always made her seem so fragile. Breakable. She and Alexia both had felt the need to protect her, shelter her whenever they could.
But they hadn’t been able to protect her from whatever had sent her running from the graduation party.
Serena’s eyes strayed to the mantel. To the three bricks just below the oak wood. “What are you hiding from, Jillian?” she whispered.
With a sigh, she went back to the album, continuing her perusal of the faces. And then she stopped.
There she was. The one Serena had been searching for.
Patricia Morris.
The girl from the shed.
“And that makes three from my class,” Serena said aloud. Chewie stopped cleaning her front paw and cocked her head at her. Yoda’s ears perked and she gave a low woof before going back to her nap. “Devin, Leslie, and Patricia.” But Devin’s killer was dead. His death had nothing to do with these two girls. Did it?
She tossed the album onto the couch beside her and hurried into the kitchen to grab her cell phone from her purse.
Punching in Dominic’s number, impatience had her pacing the floor as she waited for him to pick up.
When it went to voice mail, she said, “Call me when you can. I know who our shed victim is. And I think I see a pattern emerging. The killer seems to be targeting my classmates from my senior year. We need to warn them.”
Hanging up, she continued to pace, her thoughts whirling. Back and forth, back and forth.
At the next turn near the window, a masked face popped up. Serena screamed and stumbled back.
Dominic hung up the phone and dropped his head into his hands. Hunter was concerned about Chad and rightly so. God, help Chad. He’s come a long way in a short time. Don’t let him fall back on alcohol to numb the pain. Show me what to do to help him.
Hunter had talked with Dominic about Chad drinking himself into a mind-numbing stupor. Not because he wanted to make Chad look bad, but because he needed an extra pair of eyes on the man in case this car wreck involving his ex-wife and daughter sent him over the edge.
Dominic wasn’t sure what else he could do except let Chad know he was there if he needed him. And he could pray.
The buzzing of his phone reminded him someone had beeped in while he was midconversation with Hunter.
Amen.
He entered the code to get his voice mail as he stood at the kitchen counter and sorted the day’s mail. File folders awaited him in his den area, but he wanted to take a moment to unwind before he worked several more hours.
Dominic paused when Serena’s voice filled his ear. He straightened as he listened, his full attention now on her message. When it finished, he hung up, then dialed her number.
She answered on the first ring, her voice breathless. Scared. “Someone’s outside my house.”
He grabbed his keys from the counter and headed for his car. “Where? What’d you see?”
“A face in the kitchen window. He has on a mask.” He could hear the strain, the toll it was taking on her not to give in to the panic. He slid into the car, cranked it, and backed out of his drive.
“Did you call 9-1-1?”
A left turn and he was out of his subdivision, heading toward Serena’s.
“Yes, I have them on the other line. My landline.”
“I can be there in five minutes.” Fortunately, he didn’t live far.
No answer. He tensed as he made a right turn.
“Serena?”
“I’m here, I was just checking the locks again.”
“Do you see anything else? Hear anything?”
“No, but the cops are here.” Her relief echoed through the line.
“I’m almost there.”
“I’ve got to go let them in. I’m fine now.”
But I’m not, he wanted to say. Stay on the line with me until I get there. But he didn’t. “Okay, I’ll be another couple of minutes.”
A small pause filled the line, then she said, “Thanks, Dominic.”
A thought occurred to him. “Are you holding a gun? The one you shot your intruder with?”
“Yes.”
“Go put it up before you answer the door, okay? Don’t answer the door holding a weapon. Cops don’t like that, all right?”
“Right. I knew that. The dispatcher said the same thing, but I wasn’t ready to let go of it yet. I’ll do that now.” He heard her footsteps tap across what he assumed were hardwood floors. Then she came back on the line. “All put away.”
“Good. Now hang up and talk to the officers. I’m thirty seconds away.”
“See you in a few.”
She hung up and Dominic turned into her subdivision, taking in the substantial homes and manicured lawns. He made his way to 104 Bennett Drive and pulled behind a cruiser. Making sure his badge was visible, he climbed out of his car and walked toward the front door.
If the cops did their job right, one officer would be inside, the other sweeping the perimeter of the house for the reported intruder.
Dominic knocked on the door and the officer inside opened it. With a glance at Dominic’s badge, his brows raised. “FBI?”
“He’s a friend,” he heard Serena say as she stepped into the foyer.
The officer whose name tag read “Trask” stepped back and let him in.
Serena looked pale, drawn, and stressed. He walked up to her and pulled her into his arms. She melted against him and let him offer comfort in the only way he could right now. Then she gathered herself together and pulled back.
He glanced at Officer Trask. “What happened?”
“She was just getting ready to get into that.”
Serena lifted her chin and motioned toward the den. “Let’s go sit down, please.”
Dominic and Officer Trask followed her into the tastefully decorated area. He took in the leather couch and matching love seat and recliner. The dog bed in front of the fireplace and the mantel full of photographs.
Homey. Comfortable. Welcoming. A pang hit him. Not for the first time, he wondered why he couldn’t have grown up in a house like this with parents who loved him and—
Shutting that line of thought off, he sat beside Serena on the couch. On the coffee t
able, he noticed the open high school album.
She took a deep breath and said, “I was in the kitchen, and when I looked at the window, this face with a mask popped up.” She shuddered. “Scared me to death.”
The door opened and closed. The other officer entered the room. Tall with dark skin and hard eyes, he looked like he’d seen a few years with the force. His name tag read “Taylor.” Dominic introduced himself and asked, “Find anything?”
“Footprints under the kitchen window. The ground is soft from the rain and it’s obvious someone was out there. But he’s gone now.”
“Can you get a cast of one of the prints?”
“There wasn’t a real clear one.” Officer Taylor shrugged. “Probably someone looking to see if anyone was home before he broke in to rob the place.”
Serena looked at him, her protest almost visible on her lips. Dominic gave a slight shake of his head and said, “It’s possible Serena has a stalker. Do you think you guys could ride by a little more often tonight?”
The officers exchanged a glance. “Sure, we can do that, but it might be better if she finds another place to sleep tonight.”
“No.” Serena’s voice was low and tight. She looked at the men in her den. “I’m not going anywhere. I may not sleep as well, but he’s not chasing me out of my home.”
“Serena—” Dominic started to protest and she cut him off with a shake of her head.
“I’m not doing it.”
And the stubborn set of her chin said she wasn’t. “What if you have someone come stay with you?”
Serena pinched the bridge of her nose, then rubbed her eyes. “Maybe.”
“What about Alexia? Just for the night?”
“I suppose that would be all right.” A ghost of a small smile appeared on her lips. “Actually, that would be nice. I’ll call her in a minute.” She bit her lip.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“I work with Adopt-a-Sis, and I had a rather scary confrontation with a girl’s father tonight.”
He frowned. “What? When?”
Officer Trask leaned in, his attention fully on Serena.
“Right before the person with the mask appeared in my window.” She told them the rest of the story.
“You think it was him?” the officer asked.