Don't Look Back

by Lynette Eason

  Karen’s mother covered her sister’s hand and closed her eyes. “There is no blame placed except on the one who killed Karen. Josiah couldn’t have known. He was young, a little wild. No different than any other young person sowing a few wild oats. He’s a good man now.”

  “I know.” Sniffle. “I know.”

  “Anyway, apparently the party got out of control. Karen wanted to leave and Josiah didn’t. She called me. I told her to call a cab and I’d pay for it. She went outside to wait for the cab and that’s the last anyone saw of her.”

  Dakota blew out a sigh. “Someone reported seeing a blue Honda in the area. Do you know anyone with a car like that? Someone Karen would have trusted to give her a ride?”

  “No,” Mrs. Fuller said. “We were visiting from New Jersey. There was no one.”

  “He probably drugged her.” Jamie spoke from her position by the window.

  “This doesn’t fit his profile, though,” Dakota spoke up.

  Mrs. Fuller shifted and focused on him. “What do you mean?”

  “From what we can tell, he stalks his victims, watches them, learns their patterns, then strikes when the opportunity presents itself. Karen was from New Jersey, visiting Anderson. There’s no way he would have had time to do all that.”

  “She was a crime of opportunity. An impulsive one too,” Jamie offered.

  Dakota gave a slow nod and flicked a glance at the two women. “So, when she called you, she sounded … ?”

  “Mad. She was furious with Josiah.”

  “And that’s one thing I don’t think he’ll ever get over.” Mrs. Freemont grabbed her own tissue to dab her eyes.

  “She wouldn’t want him to feel guilty about that,” Jamie said softly. “They would have smoothed things out if they’d had the chance.”

  “I know and I’ve told him that numerous times, but it still haunts him.”

  “But she wasn’t scared,” Dakota redirected.

  “No.” Karen’s mother. “She just wanted to get home and away from that place. She was just plain mad.” She gave a little laugh. “Ooh, that girl could get mad.” Then sadness covered her once more.

  Dakota blew out a sigh. “Did she have a cell phone on her?”

  “They found it outside the house, tossed into the bushes.”

  “That wasn’t in the report.” He shot a disgusted look at the ceiling.

  “I think they found it later. The family that owned the house had a yard service. When they were trimming the bushes, it fell out.”

  “And of course he picked it up, getting his prints all over it.”

  “Yes, and when he asked the owner if it belonged to anyone in the family, they said no. The guy realized it could have something to do with what had happened to Karen, so he took it to the police.”

  “Did they find any prints or anything on it?”

  “Just the man who turned it in and Karen’s.”

  “Probably had her toss it,” Dakota muttered. He stood. “Thank you, ma’am, Mrs. Freemont. I guess that’ll be all for now. I appreciate your willingness to answer my questions. I know it’s not easy dredging this back up.”

  She took his hand, looked earnestly into his eyes, and pleaded,

  “Please find this killer. Not just for Karen’s sake, but before he kills someone else.”

  “We’re doing our best, ma’am, I promise.”

  Jamie and Dakota escorted the ladies out of the room, and Dakota said, “So Karen Fuller was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “He was probably on the prowl for another victim, saw Karen standing by the curb, had his knockout drug with him, and snatched her.”

  “She never knew what hit her.”

  He rubbed her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I know that was difficult for you to listen to.”

  “Not as hard as it was on her mother and aunt.”

  25

  The Hero watched the door to Samantha’s room. Two guards had been posted on either side. No matter, he was finished with her anyway. He had no doubt that Jamie had gotten his message loud and clear.

  It was getting close to the time to bring the games to an end.

  He almost hated to stop. It was so much fun watching everyone run around like little ants scurrying to rebuild what he was slowly destroying.

  Their confidence, their faith in the system, their security. Their families. He hated families. It was all such a sham. Hypocrites, all of them. Well, he’d prove it to them, show them how miserable they really were and teach them not to hide behind the façade of happiness. He would expose the truth – that happiness and love don’t exist.

  They’d identified Karen. She’d been number fifteen.

  “Stop the pain. Only you can do it. You’ll be my hero.”

  Only Jamie still needed him. He’d failed her. Failed in his duty. But he would rectify that soon.

  Soon, Jamie, soon.

  Monday

  Somehow, the weekend passed without incident. Monday morning, Dakota did a little more digging into the cases of the newly identified women looking for common factors. Jamie had found the physical similarities in the bones. Now he needed more information.

  Five victims. Six if he included Jamie.

  Using a map, he decided to bring George in on this and do a little geographic profiling. George said he could be at the station in ten minutes.

  Dakota pulled up the software known as Criminal Geographic Targeting on the computer, and it shot a supersized image to the wall opposite him, giving him a twelve-by-twelve screen on which he could build his profile.

  Geographic profiling was an information management system and investigative tool that evaluated the locations of connected crimes that were thought to be serial in nature. Once he input the data related to time, distance, and movements to and from the crime scene, the analysis would give him a three-dimensional model. A jeopardy surface. Meaning, where everything took place. Then the system would spit out the most probable area of residence, workplace, and leisure areas for the offender.

  Did it work?

  Sometimes.

  Was it worth taking the time to do?

  He hoped so.

  George knocked on the door and Dakota gave him a nod. “I’m getting ready to input all the data. Once I do, I want your opinion on where we need to be looking for this guy.”

  “Sure. What made you think of this?”

  “Just an idea.”

  “How familiar are you with the program?”

  “I took the class that was offered but haven’t done much with it. That’s why I wanted your help.”

  “No problem. Why don’t you read me the information from the files and I’ll do the inputting? I just took a refresher course on this last month.”

  “All right.” Dakota grabbed the nearest file and they got started.

  After a few false starts with George muttering to himself about modern technology, they finally figured it out. By the time they were finished, the jeopardy surface contained height and probability codes. Now all they had to do was superimpose the image onto a map of the area.

  George clicked and dragged.

  Dakota sat back and studied the image. “Does it say anything to you?”

  “Not really.”

  “Any connecting factors?”

  George blew out a sigh and stared at the wall. “The five girls all disappeared from various locations. There doesn’t seem to be a pattern there. Eastside, westside, all over.”

  “Right. I agree. But they were all buried in the same spot. Except for Lisa Dupre. He changed his MO there and we suspect there are other bodies out there that we haven’t found yet. Put our victims’ residences in and let’s add that as a factor.”

  As George typed, a knock on the door had Dakota swiveling in his chair. “Jamie? What are you doing here?”

  “I hitched a ride with an officer coming this way. I would have walked but figured you’d have a fit if I did.” The morgue was only a couple of blocks from the police departme
nt.

  He frowned. “You know it. How’s Sam?”

  “She’s doing all right. No more bleeding, the baby’s heart rate is even stronger this morning so we might get our miracle after all.” Blinking back tears, she moved to his side. “What are you working on?”

  “A geographic profile.”

  She studied the screen. “Do you mind if I help?”

  “Sure.” He handed her the files. “Why don’t you go back over all the medical stuff? And if anything else pops out at you, let me know. I also had Jazz go back and pull all of the missing persons cases in the city for the last fifteen years that match the demographics for our victims. I want to compare their stories to the ones we already have.”

  Jamie took the stack. “How many were there?”

  “Twenty-two that raised a red flag. That’s not counting the ones we already have identified.”

  She winced. “That many? All right.”

  Three hours later, Dakota gave up. “Let’s keep this information and take a break.”

  Jamie looked up from the file she was reading. “Can I take these back to the hospital?”

  “Sure, I can sign for them.” Dakota grabbed his pen.

  She nodded. “I just can’t help feeling we’re missing something. Something that would blow this whole thing wide open. A connection that’s obvious and we’re just not seeing it.”

  Dakota stood. “Take the files. It’s no problem. Come on, I’ll walk with you back over to the hospital. I want to check on Sam anyway.” He turned to George, who still had his gaze fixed on the multicolored wall. “Thanks for your help.”

  “You’re welcome. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.”

  “Will do.”

  Dakota and Jamie headed out from the station. “I have to admit, I’m a bit stumped.”

  Jamie feigned shock. “The big bad FBI man?”

  He laughed and cut his eyes at her. “Watch it, woman.”

  She shifted the files and he reached for them. “Let me have those.” When his fingers brushed hers, tingling awareness zipped through him. Jamie flushed and he knew she’d felt it too.

  As soon as this case was over, he promised himself. As soon as it was over. Definitely incentive to make it happen.

  Carrying the files, he smiled as Jamie avoided his eyes and picked up the pace. She cared about him whether she liked it or not. And one day, God willing, she’d be able to admit it.

  Slow, steady progress had already been made with her, in his opinion. He had patience perfected, as far as he was concerned. No matter how long it took to win her heart, he had the time.

  Jamie dropped the last file onto the window seat. Samantha must have heard the soft slap the file made against the vinyl covering because she turned her head in Jamie’s direction. “Hey.”

  “Hey there, how’re you doing?”

  “Ready to get out of here and get home.”

  “Mom and Dad were just here. They went downstairs to get something to eat but should be back in a bit.”

  “Good.” She licked her lips and reached for the water cup Jamie had just refilled. A long sip and a sigh. “I can’t seem to wake up. I just want to sleep and sleep and sleep.”

  Jamie gave a low laugh. “Well, that might be a combination of drugs and pregnancy.”

  A maternal smile covered her sister’s face and she placed a protective hand over her small bulge. “Yeah. I can’t believe it.”

  “Is that why you didn’t say anything to me?”

  “Partly.” Sam’s blonde hair fell over her face and she pushed it back to look at Jamie. “And partly because it was such a delicious secret to keep all to myself.”

  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell.”

  “I know. It was hard – and easy too. It was just weird. Connor and I’ve only been married a little over six months. And then there’s the whole Jenna factor.” Concern marred Sam’s forehead. “I wasn’t sure how she would handle having her dad’s attention diverted from her just as she’s gotten it back.”

  “Jenna’s a big girl. She’s finally got her head on straight. She’ll be in love with that baby the minute he’s born.”

  “You’re still stuck on ‘he,’ huh?”

  Jamie grinned. “You bet.”

  A knock on the door pulled Jamie’s attention from Sam to her parents who were entering the room.

  Upon seeing Samantha awake, they hurried to her side for gentle hugs and kisses. Then her father pushed the files Jamie had been reading aside and settled himself on the seat beside her. Samantha moved her feet and her mother sat on the end of the bed. The woman reached out to massage a foot. “How are you feeling, honey?”

  “Much better. Sore, but that’s to be expected. I’m going to be on bed rest until the next doctor’s appointment, but that’s all right too. As long as this baby’s born healthy, nothing else matters.”

  Her parents exchanged a look. Jamie pounced. “What is it? You guys are just dying to tell us something, so why don’t you go for it?”

  Immediately tears filled her mother’s eyes and her dad cleared his throat a zillion times. Finally, her mom took a deep breath and said, “I don’t really know where to start.” She looked at each of her daughters. “There’s so much you don’t know. So much.” She looked away, then back. “I’ve thought about how to tell you this and there just isn’t an easy way.”

  “Mom! Spill it.” Sam, the impatient one.

  “Your dad and I went through some hard times back before you were born, Jamie. Sam was about nine years old, so she probably remembers some of it.”

  Samantha shook her head. “No, I don’t remember any hard times.”

  “Well, they were there, whether you remember them or not. Anyway, your dad hurt his back real bad one summer. He climbed up on the roof to repair a shingle and fell off.”

  “Oh, wait! I do remember that,” Sam declared.

  “He was on a lot of medication. But the pain was horrible.

  And he was afraid to have surgery. So, the doctors tried to keep him comfortable with painkillers. Lots and lots of painkillers.”

  “He got addicted, didn’t he?” Jamie whispered, looking at her dad. He nodded and clenched his jaw.

  “Yes,” her mother cleared her throat. “He did. I knew it and so did a lot of other people, but your dad wouldn’t admit he had a problem. Even after the surgery that he finally consented to have, he couldn’t seem to kick the drugs. His back healed, but he was never really completely out of pain.”

  “So he kept taking the painkillers. Where did he get them?”

  “He just doctor hopped. Saw one doctor after another. Since he rarely turned anything into the insurance company, nothing was on record. And back then, they didn’t have the kind of computer tracking systems they have now. So, it wasn’t hard to get his hands on the pills.”

  Her mother’s throat bobbed and Jamie’s dad took up the story even while she wondered where they were going with this. “One day I was in a mindless, drugged daze, not feeling any pain, that’s for sure. I left a few pills out on the table, intending to pop some more. The phone rang and I went to answer it, leaving the pills on the table.”

  A quiet sob from her mother echoed in the room.

  “Sam, you were old enough to know better, but you’d had a rough day at school. A bully had pushed you down and said some mean things to you. You grabbed a few of those pills, popped them in your mouth, and swallowed them before I could blink. I threw the phone down and tried to make you throw up. You just looked at me and said, ‘But Daddy, I had a bad day. I want to feel better just like you.’”

  Sam gasped. “I don’t remember that.”

  Tears dripped down her mother’s cheeks. “We had to rush you to the hospital to get your stomach pumped.”

  Her dad stood. “I felt like I’d been slammed with a ton of bricks. The fact that I had taught you that a few pills could make you feel better, and then I couldn’t stop you from – ” He broke off, swallowing
hard.

  “He left that night and I didn’t hear from him for two years.”

  Jamie sat straight up. “What? Wait a minute. I happened somewhere in those two years. Are you saying,” she gulped, “Daddy’s not my daddy?”

  “No,” her mother rushed to say, “he’s definitely your daddy. Neither one of us knew I was pregnant when he left. I didn’t find out until about a week later.”

  Jamie and Samantha stared at their parents in stunned disbelief. Then Jamie shot to her feet and faced her mother. “Why are you telling us this now? There’s more, isn’t there?”

  “Yes,” a sob, a sniffle, then, “there’s more.” She looked at Samantha. “Are you okay with me telling you this? I didn’t want to do this now, but she wants to meet you and is insisting on sooner rather than later.”

  Samantha leaned forward, wincing. “I’m fine, it just hurts to move.”

  “Who wants to meet us?”

  Another glance exchanged between her parents, then, her father said, “Your sister.”

  26

  Ever since her parents’ had dropped that emotional bomb, Jamie had been like a zombie. All day, she’d gone back and forth between work and checking on her sister. The one in the hospital, not the one she’d just learned existed.

  She had another sister somewhere in the world. How insane was that? And not just any sister, a twin. Someone who looked exactly like her. Maybe. What if she was a fraternal twin? Jamie hadn’t thought to ask. Her mind had buzzed like a horde of swarming bees.

  After her parents finished their incredible tale, they’d left, leaving Jamie and Samantha to talk about it, to deal with this life-changing news.

  She had a sister who’d discovered she was adopted when her father delivered the news on his deathbed. After his funeral, she’d started the search and found her family, Jamie’s family, in a matter of minutes.

  While Samantha and Jamie sat there stunned, absorbing the information, good news had come in the form of the doctor. Samantha could go home as long as she promised to stay in bed and keep her feet elevated.

  Jamie volunteered to take care of her. Having identified all of the bodies, she could take some time from work until something else came in. If an anthropologist was needed while she was out, the one from Charlotte would help out as well as the one in the neighboring town of Greenville. That had been the arrangement before Jamie took her current job a year and a half ago. It could be done again in an emergency.