He frowned. “So far the killer hasn’t seemed interested in harming them. I would think if he’d wanted to kill them, he wouldn’t have bothered with feeding Yoda sleeping pills. He would have just killed her.”
Serena shuddered at the thought. “But—”
“And no one may even try to get in. But if someone does, Brett will be there to nab him.”
She glanced at the clock and caved. She needed rest. “I guess that’s a good idea . . . but I’ll be back first thing in the morning. I’m taking the day off tomorrow to get errands done. Let me grab a bag.”
His gaze softened and he pulled her into a hug. “Thanks.”
She rested against his broad chest, reveling in the security he represented. Then she pulled back and said, “If you’ll feed my fish, I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”
That had been close. The killer shut the car door and thought about the figure who’d run from the house. Who was she? Someone important to Serena?
She looked to be about seventeen or eighteen, thin as a rail, but fast on her feet.
The fact that the girl had found a way to access Serena’s house without setting off the alarm made the killer smile.
The fact that this girl had interrupted the search turned the smile into a frown. There’d been no time to hide, to figure out the next step.
With the alarm blaring, there’d been no point in sticking around and getting caught by all the cops who had descended on the house.
No, getting out had been easy. Getting back in might prove a problem because Serena would be on guard even more now. She might even move out of her home. Which would be a good thing.
Unless the cops monitored the activity around the house. Then getting to Serena would prove extra difficult. The killer spied a shiny object in the grass, slid out of the car, and snatched it up. Shrewd eyes glanced in the direction the teen had gone.
And the killer felt satisfaction flow as a plan formed.
24
FRIDAY, 8:45 A.M.
Dominic hung up the phone. No one had tried to get in Serena’s house last night, so the trap had been a bust. But at least she was safely ensconced in her hotel room overnight.
This morning, an officer would be waiting at her house when she got there and provide protection for her throughout the day.
He reached for the next file in the stack retrieved from Howard Bell’s house and opened it.
As he bent his head to read, his phone buzzed. Geographic profiler and Special Agent Regina Gaines said, “I put together that information you sent me.”
“Were you able to get anything from it?”
“Maybe. Even though you said we may not have all the victims, the software is prioritizing a specific area. I’m sending the information to your phone. The nine girls that disappeared and turned up dead over the three-year period of time the Doll Maker Killer was killing don’t seem to have a lot in common. They’re pretty much scattered all over. And yet, we have this area Dragnet is giving us.” Dragnet, the profiling software.
“Great.”
“I did manage to find one thing that connects some of them. Drake Lindell’s cleaning business.”
“Some of them?”
“Seven out of the nine worked in buildings that Drake’s janitorial service covered.”
“Why wasn’t that in the file?” Dominic ground out. What had Howard done with this investigation? From all the information he had on Howard, the man had been a topnotch cop. But this missing information . . . “What about the other two?” he asked.
“I’m still searching for a connection, but I’m guessing Drake knew them somehow other than through his business. Could have been through his kids’ school, church, a chance meeting in the grocery store. Who knows? But I don’t think a geographic profile is going to help you much. His home was over in the Five Points area. But his work took him all over the city. Which is probably why you have victims from those areas.”
“All right, thanks for the update.”
Dominic hung up and processed the information he’d just learned. The man had access to the victims because he had keys and alarm codes to businesses. He would have had no trouble choosing a victim, learning her routine, getting her home address, and snatching her when the moment presented itself.
Rubbing his eyes, he focused back on the file in front of him. Just as he was about to start reading, his phone buzzed again. “Yeah?”
“You’re sounding a little distracted, big brother.”
He smiled and gathered his thoughts to focus on Alexia. “Sorry. What’s up?”
“I just checked on Mom.”
“How’s she doing?” He read as he listened. Nothing. He tossed the file on the “nothing” stack. His eyes fell on the next file and he pulled it toward him.
“She’s doing really well. Gaining some weight and getting better every day. The doctors are optimistic—and so is Michael.”
He stilled, then leaned back in his chair. “Her pastor.”
“Right.”
“The one you say is in love with her.”
“Uh-huh.”
Dominic stared at the file, not seeing it now. “I’m surprised she would even consider a relationship with someone else.”
“I know. And . . . there’s something she never told us about her and Dad.”
The hesitancy in her voice set his senses on alert. “What’s that?”
“They’re still married.”
His heart flipped and he swallowed hard. “What?”
“Apparently Dad left but never filed for divorce. And neither did Mom.”
That was crazy. He’d just assumed . . . “Well, she can file for divorce based on his desertion. There’s not a judge in town who wouldn’t sign off on it. Dad hasn’t been around in what . . . eight years?”
“Yes.” More hesitation. Then a rush of words. “She’s not sure she can do it.”
“What?” Disbelief crowded through him. “File for divorce? You’re kidding me.”
Tears now clogged his sister’s voice. “She said when she married, she married for life, and that if Dad didn’t file, he must have had a reason.”
“Yeah, he was too cheap to pay for it!” Two nearby officers looked up and Dominic made an effort to control his temper and the volume of his voice. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he snapped.
“No, I’m not. Dominic, I just got back into her life. If we find Dad, and she wants a reconciliation with him, I . . . I don’t think I can be a part of her life anymore. The only reason I want to find him is to find out if he’s the one who tried to kill me!”
Dominic did his best to slow his racing thoughts. “All right. Tell you what. Let’s not borrow trouble. Take it one step at a time. How close are you to finding him?”
“We’ve tracked him to another homeless shelter. We’re waiting on a call to see if he’s still there, then we’ll take off to find him.”
“What state this time?”
“He’s still in North Carolina. Charlotte.”
“What does Michael have to say about all this?” Dominic asked.
“He’s handling it well. I was surprised. He said if a reconciliation was what Mom wanted, he would refer them to a counselor and step out of the picture.” She sighed. “But the pain in his eyes is awful to see, Dominic.”
“He loves her.”
“He does.” He thought she had more to add, so he waited. Alexia said, “And she loves him, but I think she’s scared. When she was so sick, she didn’t have to worry about the relationship going anywhere. She was in a safe place. But now, she’s getting better and Michael’s dropping hints about proposing. I think this is a defense mechanism of some sort. She wants Michael, but she’s scared. And this is her way out.”
“A big way out. If they’re really still married . . .”
“Exactly.”
“Then I guess we need to find Dad and bring this to a closure—one way or another.” He paused. “What does Hunter think about all this?”
; Her voice softened. “He’s doing this to help me. I think he wishes I would leave it alone, but since that’s not going to happen . . .”
Dominic gave a low chuckle. When his sister put her mind to something, she was like a dog with a bone. Hunter was probably wise to keep tabs on her if only to keep her out of trouble—and safe.
“All right. Tell Mom I’ll be by to see her soon. And I’ve got a buddy at the Bureau. I’ll have him put some feelers out and see what we can come up with. Although, Hunter’s got good contacts. If Dad’s still slipping through your fingers, I don’t know how much good my friend will be.”
“Just try. It can’t hurt.”
“All right.”
He hung up and dialed the number of his friend at headquarters. Special Agent Jeff Brown promised to help out and be in touch.
After Dominic hung up with Jeff, he steepled his fingers and stared at the wall. He didn’t want to find his father again. He’d found him once and it hadn’t been pretty.
And now his mother was thinking about a reconciliation? He shook his head. There was no way he’d let that happen, he just wasn’t sure how he would stop it if it came down to it.
But he’d figure out something.
Even if it meant bribing the man to stay gone forever.
After he filed for divorce.
In the accommodating deer stand some kind neighbor had built in the copse of trees right across from Serena’s house, the killer lifted the scope to an eye and focused it on the French doors leading into Serena’s den.
Taking her out would be as simple as pulling the trigger. When the time was right. A grim smile crossed the killer’s face as Serena stepped into the den.
9:02 A.M.
Serena dropped her overnight bag in the hallway and walked into the den. Yoda hadn’t greeted her when she came in, so the dog was probably out in the backyard.
She pulled out her phone. Where was Camille? The girl had all but disappeared, refusing to answer texts or calls.
Frustration and worry set in.
She was going to have to find Camille.
And that meant starting with the girl’s father.
It may be her day off of work, but she had several things she needed to get done. She felt bad about leading her shadow around on all the errands she needed to run, but it couldn’t be helped. A peek through the window confirmed the officer who had spent the night was being replaced by her daytime shadow.
She wandered through the den to check the backyard. Yoda chased a squirrel up a tree, then sat down to watch the critter dance across the limbs. While she wasn’t the best watchdog—okay, she was probably the worst watchdog ever—at least she didn’t seem worried about any potential intruders . . . or new friends to greet . . . and Serena breathed a little easier.
After the safety fiasco with Alexia when she’d stayed at Serena’s house and the intruder had gotten inside, Serena had had a six-foot wooden fence installed around the back of her property. She had felt more secure, but knowing someone had once again breeched her home had her wondering if anyone was ever truly safe. If someone wanted to get to her, she had a feeling it was only a matter of time.
Not exactly comforting thoughts.
Walking to the mantel, she ran her hands over the three bricks. Then moved one to the left and two to the right. Reaching into the small exposed area, she pushed aside some valuable jewelry left to her by her grandmother and pulled out the manila envelope with her name on it.
Serena slid Jillian’s letter from the package, leaving a second sealed envelope inside. On the outside of that envelope, Jillian had written DO NOT OPEN. On the letter Serena now held, Jillian had written READ FIRST.
Serena had followed her directions, honoring Jillian’s request for privacy.
Only someone seemed intent on getting it from her. One way or another.
The hair on the back of her neck lifted and she glanced toward the French doors that led to her glassed-in porch. The porch overlooked the fenced yard. Beyond the fence, oaks and maples offered shade and privacy.
Only, it felt more isolating than private right now.
Shivering, she looked back at the letter.
Ser,
It’s been a long time and I know I probably have no right to ask this, but I need a favor from you. My life’s in danger. It has been ever since graduation night, but I’ve managed to hide under a false name and identity. I’ve been running for so long, I don’t know if I know how to stop. But I have to try. For more reasons than one. I’ve built quite a name for myself as an investigative reporter, but there’s one crime I’ve been too afraid to face. The one I witnessed. So, it’s time. I’ve been working for over a year to arrange to come home before it’s too late. I know that’s vague, but I don’t want to go into details here. I’ll see you soon. But if you should hear that I’ve died, please open the other envelope and give it to the person I’ve specified. BUT ONLY IF YOU KNOW FOR SURE THAT I’M DEAD.
I’ve missed you and Alexia.
Looking forward to more than a high school reunion, I’m looking forward to exposing the truth about that night. I’m just trying to stay alive while I figure out how to do that.
Love and hugs,
Jillian
For the hundredth time since receiving the letter, she refolded it and slid it back into the envelope.
What had Jillian seen that night?
Serena stared at the unopened envelope. Did she have the right to look? There was no doubt in her mind this was what her intruder had been looking for.
She should really put this somewhere safer than her house. Like a safe deposit box. Serena shot a glance at her briefcase, then looked back at the envelope.
Then out the French doors one more time. If she left now, she’d have time to run by the bank before going to the girls’ home.
Grabbing her briefcase and everything she needed, she prioritized. She’d go by the bank later. She needed to see if she could find Camille.
Serena exited the house into the closed garage and stilled. The echo of the door closing behind her rang in her ears. Her pulse pounded. Fear clogged her throat.
And she took a deep breath.
Was someone hiding in the spacious area?
Inside the boat under the tarp?
In the backseat of her car?
If so, she couldn’t have this package on her.
As the blood thrummed through her veins, she whirled and fumbled with her keys, finally getting the lock open, then the door. Then she slammed it shut, twisting the dead bolt as her keys fell to the floor with a clank.
With dread in her stomach, she grabbed her cell phone. Should she call the police?
911?
Dominic?
The cop sitting outside watching her house?
As she watched out the window, her nerves started to calm. There was no one there. She was being silly.
“There’s no one out there,” she whispered aloud. “Get in the car and go. Camille might need you.”
But the thought of opening the door and walking out of the house terrified her.
And some small part of her realized what was happening. He was gaining control of her life, her thoughts, her actions—and she was allowing it.
Oh Lord, help me. I don’t want to let fear rule me.
For another few minutes, she just stood at the door, looking out into the garage. Nothing moved.
“Get in the car, Serena,” she told herself. Putting the package back where she thought it would be safe, she thought about her nerves and the fact that the killer had done everything in his power to keep her off balance and constantly on guard. No doubt, a tactic meant to exhaust her and make her careless.
With determination, she unlocked the kitchen door dead bolt and stepped back into the garage. With jerky movements, she opened the SUV door and shot her gaze to the passenger seat.
She was almost surprised to find it empty. She slid into the driver’s seat and slammed the door, locking it in one quick m
otion. She pressed the button on the garage door remote.
As the door behind her rose, her phone rang and she grabbed it from the cup holder. “Hello?”
“Hey, pretty lady. How are you this morning?”
Dominic. She backed from the garage, her heart picking up even more speed. She smiled, although she couldn’t help the nervous glance at the covered boat.
“I’m doing great. I actually slept last night.” Should she say anything about her nervousness? About the feeling that someone was in her garage?
Before she closed the garage, she waited at the end of her driveway for one last, long look.
Still, nothing moved.
“You feel like going to a meeting with me?” Dominic asked.
“Nate?” she guessed.
“Yep. I’m meeting him at 11:00. I know this is your day off, but—”
“No, I want to go.” She tapped the steering wheel. “I need to go see Camille first at the girls’ home, but I can meet you there.”
“Okay.” He paused. “You sound funny. You sure you’re all right?”
She breathed a laugh. “I’m fine. Just my imagination working overtime.”
“Are you sure it’s your imagination?”
Serena bit her lip. Was she? “Probably.”
“You don’t sound so sure.”
“Yeah. I know. Never mind. I’m just jumpy.”
“With good reason. Is your shadow with you?”
She glanced in her rearview mirror. “Yes, he’s there.”
“Great.”
Serena pulled up to the four-way stop and pressed the brakes. Her shadow hugged her bumper. A car to her right seemed to be traveling fast as it approached the stop sign, so she waited to be sure the driver planned to stop. When it seemed like the vehicle slowed, she pressed the gas.
But she was wrong. Heart in her throat, she realized too late that the driver planned to run the stop sign. The other vehicle plowed into her passenger door.
25
FRIDAY, 10:15 A.M.
Dominic heard the screech of metal crunching metal, Serena’s terrified scream. The roar of a motorcycle.
Then seconds later, the sound of a gunshot.
When a Heart Stops Page 19
