Don't Look Back

by Lynette Eason

  Sam’s voice turned sharp. “Don’t you dare walk home. I’ll be there to get you in ten minutes.”

  “But you’re sick.”

  “I’m better. Hang tight.”

  “I …” She huffed out a sigh. “Okay. I’ll be looking for you.”

  “See you in a few.”

  Jamie hung up the phone and set it on the table near the sink in case one of the guys called. She began to straighten the lab, putting away her tools and cleaning up around her work area. She glanced at the clock.

  7:00.

  Not terribly late, but where were the guys and why hadn’t they called?

  All at once, the quiet of the place echoed in her ears. She walked to the door of the lab and looked down the hallway. Not a soul in sight.

  Weird.

  Most of the time, the place was a beehive of activity, slowing down around this time of day, yet still with a few people milling about. Even on the weekends, someone was here.

  She stepped through the door and headed toward Serena’s office, which was just next door. Jamie knocked and got no answer. Probably went on to supper.

  Doing a one-eighty, Jamie made her way back toward the opposite end of the hall and peered through the glass. One empty office after another.

  What in the world?

  She stepped into the break room.

  And saw the notice on the bulletin board.

  “‘Retirement party for Harrison Cooper. 6:30–8:00 at Flannigan’s,’” she read aloud. She’d forgotten about it. No surprise there. With all the turmoil she’d been experiencing, she’d be shocked if she could remember her way home.

  So, was she all alone in the building? Her stomach tightened at the thought. Surely not.

  Why hadn’t anyone stopped by to ask if she was going? She hadn’t planned on it, but she would have left before now to avoid the very situation she now found herself in.

  Making her way back down the hall to her office, she decided to get her stuff together and go down to the lobby where Stewart, one of the morgue’s security guards, would be sitting. She could wait for Samantha in the comfort of one of the lobby chairs under the watchful eye of Stewart.

  Her blue tennis shoes made no sound on the tiled floor. A door slammed shut behind her and she whirled. When no one appeared, she swallowed hard, spun on her heel, and picked up her pace. Her pulse followed suit.

  Quick glances over her shoulder told her no one was there, but the uneasiness flowing through her made her heart pound. Her palms grew slick and she rubbed them against her pants.

  Behind her, rubber soles squeaked against the floor.

  “Who’s there?” she called. “Hello?”

  No answer.

  Someone was back there. Why wouldn’t that person answer her?

  “I know you’re there. Who is it? If this is a joke, it’s not funny.”

  Silence again greeted her call.

  Then a low laugh accosted her ears, mocking her, scraping her nerves and making them twitch as though they knew what was in store for them. Her wrists actually ached as though they once again were trapped in the confines of the handcuffs.

  And the dam of terror broke, flooding her veins with it, filling her very being with the horrifying memories. Gasping, trembling, she raced to her office on legs that barely supported her. She slapped the door open, then slammed it shut, clicking the lock into place in one jerky movement.

  She rested her back against the glass, then moved looking for a place to hide. A phone. She needed to call someone. Her blood thundered in her ears, deafening her to any sound except the sound of her shuddering whimpers.

  Oh God, do something. Please, please, please, I’m begging you.

  Did she really believe he was out there? Her mind said no. Her fear said yes.

  Through the glass windows, she watched from behind her desk and waited. Any minute she expected the door to burst open or glass to go flying. No window would keep him from his prey. A thought occurred to her.

  Last time he’d taken her by surprise.

  This time she knew he was there.

  Breaths coming in puffs, Jamie desperately gathered some of her wits together and looked around for a weapon. A pen, a stapler … a pair of scissors. She snatched them up. They’d have to do.

  The pounding on the door wrenched a scream from her throat. Whirling, she raised the scissors and stopped.

  Samantha.

  Staring at her in wide-eyed concern, her eyes flitting from the scissors to Jamie’s face. “What are you doing? Jamie, open the door.”

  Wilting against her desk, Jamie dropped the scissors. She honestly didn’t know if she had the strength to cross the floor to the door.

  “Jamie, come on.” Samantha rattled the knob once again.

  With trembling legs, she pushed her body from the desk and forced her limbs to walk to the door. Her fingers shook so bad, she almost couldn’t grasp the lock to turn it.

  Finally, the door flew open and she was in Samantha’s arms. Dakota and Connor came up behind her.

  “What is it, Jamie, what scared you?”

  “He was here.”

  “What?” Dakota and Connor exchanged a look, then bolted back down the hall, weapons appearing in their hands as though by magic.

  It was all Dakota could do to push down the rage he felt at the man responsible for Jamie’s continued fear. Using hand signals for communication, Connor noted he’d cover the room to his right.

  Dakota held his weapon ready for backup should Connor need it. He didn’t.

  All the way to the end of the hall, they searched every possible hiding place.

  Finally, they came to the last office on the right. George’s office. Dakota raised his knuckles and rapped twice.

  Nothing.

  But the door swung open.

  Stepping inside, he kept his back to the wall. Connor mimicked his moves on the opposite side. A door to the left was cracked. A bathroom?

  Making his way over, senses tuned to every nuance in the room, he placed a hand on the door and looked at Connor.

  A nod. He was ready.

  Dakota shoved the door open. “Freeze! FBI!”

  Connor swung around, his weapon trained on the empty room.

  Adrenaline pumping, Dakota took in the absence of any threat and lowered his gun. He turned back toward the door and saw movement. He snapped the weapon back up, rushed the door, and yelled, “Freeze!”

  George froze, hands held above his head. His throat worked and his eyes looked too big for his face. “Can I help you?”

  Connor and Dakota lowered their guns simultaneously. “Did you see anyone out there in the hall?”

  “No, no one. I think everyone’s at the retirement party.”

  Dakota motioned to George’s hands. “You can put them down now.”

  George dropped them to his sides. “Is there a problem?”

  “Unfortunately, I think our problem escaped.”

  18

  Samantha ushered Jamie back into her office and locked the door behind them. “Tell me what happened.” Grabbing a tissue from the box on the desk, she handed one to Jamie.

  Jamie stared at it as though she didn’t know what to do with it. Samantha took it back and gently mopped up her face.

  Staring up at Samantha’s concerned blue eyes, Jamie said, “I didn’t know I was crying.”

  “Enough tears to fill a bucket.”

  “Sorry.” She began to calm down, her wracking shudders dissolving into the occasional tremble. Then the anger began bubbling beneath the surface, churning ominously like a tsunami getting ready to make its presence known.

  “Where is he? Where did you see him?”

  “I didn’t see him. I heard him.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Nothing.”

  A frown creased Jamie’s forehead. “Then …”

  “He laughed.”

  “Lau – ” Samantha cut off the word and waited.

  Jamie pulled in a
lung full of air and blew it out through pursed lips. “I heard someone behind me. When I turned around, no one was there. I called out and no one would say anything. Then I heard that … laugh. That horrible, mocking laughter that haunts my sleep and invades my dreams …”

  Clamping her lips together, she clung to the anger, the thought of what she’d do if she came face-to-face with the monster again.

  The knock on the door made them both jump. Reflexes on high alert, Samantha’s hand went for her gun, then relaxed when she saw it was just Dakota. She rose to let him in. Connor followed. “Well?”

  Dakota crossed over to Jamie and took her hands in his. Tears filled her eyes again and she looked away, feeling weak – and ashamed.

  He settled his hands lightly on her shoulders as though asking permission to touch her. She leaned in. That was all he needed.

  He pulled her close and she snuggled up next to him, hearing his heart thumping in her ear. His voice rumbled up from his chest. “We didn’t see anyone, Jamie.”

  “I don’t care if you saw him or not. He was here.”

  “I believe you.”

  Warmth flooded her and she pulled back to look up at him. “Do you really?”

  His eyes bored into hers with the powerful effect of a laser. “Yeah, I really do.”

  “So do we,” Connor offered, eyeing the two of them with hope. Jamie knew Connor thought of her as the little sister he never had and wanted her to find happiness in marriage.

  She walked back over to her desk and pulled another tissue from the box. “I feel like I’m going crazy. Why is he doing this to me? Why doesn’t he just grab me and get it over with? Why does he enjoy this mental torture so much? What is the deal with that?”

  The questions tumbled from her lips, one after the other, like dominoes.

  Samantha squeezed her hand and Connor said, “I don’t know, but what do you say we get the tapes from security and see who was in the building.”

  Jamie shuddered. “You won’t see him. Somehow he knows how to avoid the cameras.”

  “Maybe, but we have to try.” Dakota rubbed her arm, then said, “If we see who else was up here, we can ask if they saw anything – or anyone who didn’t belong. Plus I want to talk to the security guard and see if he noticed anyone in the building who shouldn’t have been here.”

  Connor nodded. “I’ll go handle that.” He left and Samantha perched on the stool looking like she still didn’t feel all that great.

  Dakota said, “I’m sorry we weren’t here. We got caught up in doing some interviews and handling some phone calls. The girl you finished doing the facial reconstruction on went out over the news and we got several leads to follow up on.” He blew out a sigh. He flicked a glance at Sam, who had her eyes closed. “I didn’t realize Samantha went home sick. I should have made sure someone was with you. I called and you didn’t answer your phone.”

  “I never heard it ring. Sorry.” She frowned and reached into her pocket. It wasn’t there. “Oh, I left it by the sink in the lab.”

  Retracing her steps with Dakota next to her, she walked from her office, down the hall a bit, and into the lab. Zeroing in on the sink, she headed for it, then stopped, confusion filling her. “That’s odd. I know I left it here because I was cleaning up and thought you might call.”

  “You didn’t put it back in your pocket when you went looking for other people?”

  Thinking, she tilted her head and stared at the ceiling. “No, because when I realized I was basically alone in the building,” she knew she flushed, but admitted, “it kind of freaked me out.”

  “Don’t be embarrassed. It can be unnerving.”

  She appreciated his efforts to make her feel better. Too bad it didn’t work. “Anyway, I know I didn’t get it. I left it right there.” Confusion, worry … and fear tangoed up her spine.

  “All right, is there any way someone could have slipped in the lab unnoticed?”

  “No, I would have been able to see … wait a minute.” She looked at Dakota. “I stepped into the break room.”

  “For how long?”

  “I don’t know. Two, maybe three minutes? I read the announcement, then stood there for a bit before coming back into the hall. Then I heard something. I called out and no one answered.” She shuddered. “I was scared and ran to my office to lock the door. Then Samantha showed up.”

  “But you heard him laugh.”

  “Yes.”

  “So, there was definitely someone else in the hall.”

  “Yes!”

  “Then we need to check the cameras.”

  Twenty minutes later, Samantha pleaded a headache and left. The rest of them gathered in the video room. Stewart Hodges, the security guard on duty, did the honors of pulling up the tapes requested.

  Connor pointed, “Run it back here.”

  Stewart complied.

  Dakota shifted so Jamie could see a little better. She appreciated his belief in her and the fact that he didn’t shrug off her fears – or belittle her for them.

  “All right. Right there.”

  “That’s Melissa Ferris,” Jamie offered. “She just came out of the break room.”

  “And headed down the hall toward the elevator.”

  “There’s George. What’s he doing?”

  “Heading toward the lab.”

  “Now he’s stopping to talk to Melissa.” George nodded at something the woman said, then walked on toward Jamie’s office. Finding it empty, he moved toward the lab, looked in, shrugged, turned and left.

  Jamie spoke again. “Wait a minute, here comes Lila.” Lila stopped and mimicked George’s motions. Pause at the door. Look in. Leave.

  “Where were you, Jamie?” Dakota asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  Another minute passed.

  “There you are. Coffee cup in hand.”

  “I was in the break room. I’d forgotten all about that. That was before I realized everyone was gone. And I didn’t even notice the flyer on the wall at that point.”

  “Okay, so you went in the break room twice. Once to get a cup of coffee and once to see if anyone was in there.”

  Stewart rolled the tape forward a bit.

  Dakota pointed this time. “All right, here is everyone leaving.” Workers filtered out one by one, sometimes in groups of two and three.

  “Going to the party.”

  A few minutes later, Jamie’s head appeared in the lab doorway. Then she was walking down the hall, checking the offices. She disappeared into the break room once again.

  Back out.

  Paused and turned to look behind her, her back to the camera. “That’s when I heard a door shut.” She watched her fingers curl into fists by her thighs. “I called out but no one answered.”

  In the next clip, she bolted for her office and disappeared inside.

  “Okay, let’s see if anyone appears.”

  But there was nothing until Samantha got off the elevator and headed toward Jamie’s office.

  Jamie wanted to scream. Instead, she held her cool and asked, “So, where did my cell phone go?”

  A knock on the door interrupted their study of the images on the screen. Stewart opened the door and George stepped in. He looked at Dakota, “You called me?”

  “Yeah, like I told you earlier, we think Jamie’s stalker was here and we want your input.”

  “Sure, fill me in.”

  They did, then Dakota asked, “Is there a back way into the lab?”

  Jamie blinked. “Yes. The emergency door.”

  Dakota and Connor exchanged a look, then Dakota said, “Thanks, Stewart. We’re not getting anything off of this. Can you pull the other videos from the camera that’s aimed on the lab’s emergency door? Same time frame.”

  “Sure thing. That door leads to a staircase. Then the stairs lead down to the exit outside. I can check that camera too.”

  A few more clicks and the back door of the lab and the top three steps leading up to it appeared on the s
mall black-and-white screen. Minutes passed, then the screen went blank. Stewart spoke. “Yeah, that’s the one that I had trouble with. I went to check it, but couldn’t find anything wrong with the camera. By the time I got back to the desk, the picture was back up.” He shrugged. “I logged it in my report, but just figured it was a little blip in the system.”

  “A little blip called Jamie’s stalker, I’ll bet. Somehow he covered up the camera and entered the lab through the back door.”

  Connor agreed. “And found her gone.”

  “But saw her cell phone sitting there.”

  “So he took it on the spur of the moment.”

  “Opportunity.”

  “He’s smart, but also impulsive.”

  “Which means we might actually get lucky and he’ll slip up before any more bodies start turning up.”

  George shrugged when they looked at him for his opinion. “It’s possible. Yes, I agree he acted impulsively, but now he’ll think through his actions before he does anything with it, assuming he’s the one that took it. If so, he’ll disable it so you can’t track it. Then again, he may do nothing with it, he may have just wanted something that belonged to Jamie.” He spread his hands. “And this is all going on the assumption that he’s the one who was in the building and that he has the phone.”

  “Right.”

  Jamie blew out a sigh, a headache settling behind her eyes. “Okay, this is enough. Connor needs to get home to Samantha and I need a break.”

  George looked at his watch. “I’ve got a late meeting, but give me a call if you need anything else. I want to get this guy as bad as you do.”

  Not likely, Jamie thought, but kept that to herself. She felt snippy and in a bad mood. George didn’t deserve to be her scapegoat. Her frustration at the lack of progress on finding the man responsible for the deaths of possibly sixteen young women wasn’t improving her disposition either.

  Dakota put his arm around her shoulders. “All right. I’ll take you home. We’ve got a car on your house, the front, and one watching the back where the woods are. You should be safe.”

  Jamie pulled in a deep breath. “Fine. I need some sleep.”

  Dakota followed her out. He said, “I’ll drive. Hop in.”