Several pairs of brown, almost black contacts had turned up in Howard’s bathroom. To cover up the green eyes he knew Jamie would recognize the first time she saw him. Eyes that had an eerie otherworldly quality to them. Dakota didn’t know if that had been the mental illness affecting the way his eyes looked or just plain heredity.
Whatever, those eyes were now closed forever.
Now, back in the x-ray room, he looked at the machine that techs were in the process of dismantling. Dakota squatted next to Brad, one of Jake’s CSIs. “What is all this stuff?”
Brad looked up. “I’m shaking my head because it’s a fairly simple machine to build if you have all the right parts.” He waved a hand toward the stack on the floor. “Nothing there you couldn’t get off the internet. I bet he got on there and googled ‘homemade x-ray machine’ and the directions just popped right up.”
He lifted a brow. “Can too much information be a bad thing?” Brad rubbed an eye. “In this case, I’m going to say ‘yes.’”
Dakota clapped the man on the shoulder and rose to his feet. Looked at the two-way mirror again. Thought about the other evidence gathered. The pictures from the book. Every girl the man had taken had been portrayed in that book, and they’d already started contacting families.
And locating graves.
They’d found two remote control garage door openers. One belonged to Jamie’s garage. Soon enough, they’d know who the other one belonged to.
The mirror really bothered him.
And why would you need two chairs?
Dread curled in his midsection.
“What if there’s someone else involved in this?” he muttered to himself. “What did we miss? Who did we miss?”
When the doorbell rang, Jamie jerked from the doze she’d just managed to fall into. She didn’t know whether to grumble or laugh. Her family sent her home to rest – and called every five minutes to check on her to make sure she was resting.
Now one of them had decided to visit?
She threw the blanket off and stood. Checked the time. She’d slept a few minutes. She looked at the blinds on her window and smiled. They were open. Barely, but just enough to let a little daylight in and to remind her that she was safe – and continuing to heal more and more every day.
Her bell rang again and she frowned. “All right, all right. I’m coming.”
A glance through the peephole had her brows lifting. A stranger. Unease flickered and she squelched it. Dragged in a breath. She was safe now.
Opening the door, she smiled and said, “Hello.”
“Hello, Jamie.”
The woman stood about two inches shorter than Jamie’s height and wore a shapeless brown dress with a lightweight white sweater. Plain brown sandals covered her feet and her toenails needed polish.
Jamie blinked. “Do I know you?”
“No, not really, but I know you.”
That twinge of uneasiness returned. Jamie kept her hand on the doorknob and her body blocked the opening. “I see. Well, do you need something?”
“Yes, actually, I came to see you because …” The woman’s eyes flickered up the street, back to Jamie.
The urge to slam the door in the woman’s face nearly overpowered her. What was going on?
The gun appeared almost as quickly as the woman moved. Stiff-arming a shocked Jamie with a hand to her chest, the stranger pushed her back into the house, shut the door behind her, and leveled the weapon at Jamie’s head.
“… you killed my brother.”
36
Dakota got Connor on the phone. “We missed something.”
“What do you mean?”
“There are two chairs.”
“Huh? Make some sense, Dakota.”
“In that little x-ray room, there was a two-way mirror, remember?” “Yeah, he probably liked to watch his victim squirm before he …”
“Right. But behind that mirror, there were two chairs. Who was the other chair for?”
Silence. Dakota could feel his heart pounding.
“I don’t know, man.” Connor’s words came over the line, slow and thoughtful. “Why would he need two chairs?”
“Exactly.”
“Did we get the DNA back on that hair from the sunglasses yet?”
The lightbulb went on. “A woman.”
“You lost me again.”
“The sunglasses bothered me. That’s because they were so out of place with everything in the house. They were feminine. Not overly so, but the arms had some very slight bling on them.
That’s what bugged me. They look like sunglasses that would belong to a woman.”
“The sister,” Connor whispered almost to himself.
“Beth.”
“Yeah. She’s been fired from her job and arraigned with various charges involving fraud, identity theft, and a couple of other things.”
“Where is she now?”
“I don’t know, but I think we’d better find out.”
Heart in her throat, Jamie couldn’t process the events unfolding. Would she never be safe?
The phone rang in the background. She glanced over her shoulder at it. The handset lay on the end table next to the couch.
Beth used the gun to jab her in the shoulder and move her back. Jamie stepped sideways toward the kitchen opening. Her phone on the wall rang again. There was no way she could get there fast enough, so she did her best to ignore her only hope of rescue. She focused on the woman in front of her. “What are you doing?”
“Something Howard should have done months ago.”
“So, you’re going to kill me.” Then it clicked for her. “You,” she whispered. “You’re the shadow.”
Beth’s brows knit. “What?”
“I never really knew what was real and what I’d dreamed. But I kept seeing this … shadow. Sensing … movement. I just never could see it. And it was you, wasn’t it?”
“I liked to watch him put people out of their pain. Every day when we were kids, she beat us, broke our bones, starved us.” Her eyes took on an otherworldly glaze. “I hated her, but I was small, I had no power, could do nothing except take it, day after day after day.” A deep breath, back to reality. “I begged him to kill our mother, you know.” In a singsong voice, she chanted, “Stop the pain, please stop the pain. You have to stop the pain, Howie.”
“And so he did,” Jamie finished for her, desperately holding on to her sanity, controlling her fear, refusing the desire to give in to the tight panic pounding in her chest. She sidestepped the gun, her back now toward the sunroom.
“And so he did,” Beth echoed, eyes widening with the memory. “I don’t think he actually meant to do it at first, but then when he realized she was dead …” Deep breath then, “He was my hero. He did anything I wanted him to do.”
“And every time he killed another girl – ”
“A party girl, a bad girl,” Beth interrupted. “A girl who didn’t deserve to grow up and have children that she would one day abuse and leave all alone while she drank away what little money she had.”
Jamie swallowed hard. She’d been on that path. The party girl who drank too much, didn’t care who she hurt or who was affected by her carelessness. Who knows where she might have ended up if she hadn’t been snatched by this woman’s brother?
“I would never hurt a child,” she whispered.
“You don’t know what you would have done twelve years ago.” Flat, dead, cold words that told Jamie that Beth was moving beyond caring about the conversation. She’d come here for a reason and was getting ready to carry it out.
“Howard’s dead,” Jamie blurted, moving back another step into the den. “Why kill me now?”
“Because I have nothing left. You took the only thing in my life that I loved. I owe it to him to finish his work.”
Jamie could tell it would do no good to argue with the woman. She wanted to shout, “If you hadn’t taken me in the first place, we wouldn’t be in this position!” Instead, she ke
pt her mouth shut, stamped down her raging fear, and engaged her brain. There had to be a way out of this. Oh Lord, show me.
The gun in Beth’s hand trembled. How did such a meek-mannered woman like Beth get up the guts to come to Jamie’s house and confront her?
Or was that really her personality? Was it just for show? A game?
“I don’t get it,” Jamie sputtered, grabbing her fear and controlling it, refusing to give it free reign. She had only one thought in her mind – to keep Beth talking until she could figure a way out. “You gave him up to the cops.”
“What?”
“Dakota said when they questioned you, you sent them straight to Howard.”
A sigh. The gun lowered a fraction. Movement caught the corner of her eye from the open blinds and her heart leapt into her throat. A uniform? Had someone figured out she was in danger? When she didn’t answer the phone, had someone decided to come check on her?
She ignored the window, kept her eyes from straying there and giving away the fact that she might have help.
Her goal now consisted of focusing all of her energy on keeping it together, staying calm – and breathing.
“A strategy that got him killed, unfortunately. I planned to call him after the police left, but they kept me in custody.” She frowned. “I didn’t expect that. I thought they would just …” More frowning. “I don’t know what I thought. But I did believe that if I gave them what they wanted, they would leave me alone. At least see that I was trying to help.” A bitter eye roll. “I knew that if I covered anything up, it would only be a matter of time before they had every ounce of information available on me. Including where I grew up. I thought if I helped them, they would let me go and I would have enough time to warn Howard. But it didn’t work, they arrested me. It took forever to get out of there.”
Jamie was familiar with the process. By the time Beth would have gotten free, most likely Howard was already dead. Maybe if Jamie tried to sympathize with her, it would reach her on some level. “I’m so sorry you had such a terrible childhood. I can’t even imagine – ”
“No, you can’t,” she hissed as her eyes sparked with anger. “No one can imagine. Even the social workers and foster families didn’t have a clue how bad it was.”
Sympathizing wasn’t going to work. Jamie held her hands up, looked around. Fighting back was her only option. She needed a weapon.
Beth’s finger tightened on the trigger.
Dakota couldn’t hear Jamie talking, but he had a good view of the den from the corner of her blinds. When he’d realized there’d been a second person involved, the only individual that came to mind was the sister.
His gut told him that Beth Wilkins had known exactly what her brother had been up to. When he’d called to check on her whereabouts, he’d been informed that she’d bailed herself out and left the station. A cruiser had been a minute from her home. The officer had swung by and reported no activity at the residence.
Which meant Jamie’s safety immediately became Dakota’s first priority once again. Putting it all together, the two chairs, the feminine sunglasses, Beth delivering the package to the post office.
When confronted, she’d lied.
Big-time. Gave an Academy Award–winning performance.
He sent a car to cover Jamie’s house, asking for the officer to report back anything suspicious – and to run the tags of any vehicles not parked in a driveway. The officer stated that there was a red truck sitting across the street and down two houses. The only vehicle on the street. He was waiting for the tag report.
The minute he heard the words “red truck” Dakota had immediately asked for a team to head to Jamie’s house. He knew who it would belong to.
Now, he tried to picture how this was going to go down. What the situation would look like from every side. And how best to handle it. Because he had no doubt that there was a situation.
He spoke into his microphone. “I need eyes and ears, people.”
“Copy that,” came the voice in his ear.
He wondered if he had time to wait. Scooting forward, he took another look through the blinds. Jamie backed into the den, then he caught a glimpse of the gun that followed her. Beth Wilkins stepped into view.
Jamie was saying something. Beth wasn’t having any of it, shaking her head and waving the gun.
“Is the alarm deactivated?” he asked into his microphone.
“Copy that.”
Connor shot him a look as though asking if Jamie was all right. A thumbs-down from Dakota brought a frown to his face.
Then Dakota said, “We’re going to have to get in there. The woman is unstable and she’s got a gun on Jamie.”
He called her number one more time, watching through the slits of the blinds.
The ringing phone made her blink. “I need to answer that.”
“No!” Beth’s hand shook.
Jamie took a deep breath. “Okay.”
The phone rang through to voice mail. Jamie backed up more. Beth followed.
Keep her talking.
“What do you want?” Another step back.
Evil settled on the woman’s face. Malice glinted, and any ounce of sympathy Jamie had lingering for the children who’d suffered such a horrendous childhood disappeared in the presence of the twisted adult. She had to do whatever it took to get away from this woman or she was dead.
Jamie took another step back and ended up in the sunroom. Could she get to the door and get out before Beth shot her?
The gun tilted and Beth’s eyes widened as though she just realized where they were. “Stop moving.”
Jamie stopped, having accomplished her goal of moving the woman away from the door.
Beth shifted closer. Jamie tensed.
“What do I want?” she asked calmly, as though the two of them were sitting down and sharing a cup of coffee. “I want a normal childhood with parents who loved me. But that’s not going to happen. I want my brother back.” A scowl, then grief twisted her face and tears appeared. “But since that’s not going to happen, I want to finish his work.”
“You’re crazy,” Jamie whispered.
“Crazy!” The tears stopped, the face hardened. “I’m crazy?” A pause. “Well, I might be, but it’s only because people like you made me this way.”
“Beth – ”
“Shut up.”
The back of Jamie’s thighs hit her paint supply table. An idea formed and her fingers felt behind her. Groped. Closed around the can.
Beth motioned once more with the weapon. “Now, we’re going to get in your car and we’re going to leave.”
Heart thumping, adrenaline rushing, Jamie kept the can behind her, waiting, watching for the right moment. “Where are we going?”
“Back to the house. No one will look for you there.”
“They’re still processing it as a crime scene. There are people still there.”
Indecision creased her forehead. Jamie could see she’d confused her, blown her plan out of the water, and now she didn’t know what to do.
A lilting whistle came from behind Beth.
The woman whirled.
Jamie grabbed the can and hurled it toward Beth’s face.
Turpentine splashed, Beth screamed and the gun fired. Some part of her brain registered the sound of a window breaking.
“Jamie!”
Dakota’s voice came from the door. Jamie threw herself past the woman who swiped frantically at her eyes and gasped for breath.
Strong arms pulled her behind him and uniforms swarmed the house.
Beth’s screeching protests rang in her ears, but all she could do was hold on to the man who’d saved her life once again.
37
December, Six Months Later
Jamie looked down at Maya’s grave, grief twisting her insides. “I miss her so much, Dakota. She was there with me, from the moment I woke up in the hospital until …” She thought. “Well, just until. A twelve-year friendship that was so much more
than a friendship. She was my sister in Christ, my confidante, my spiritual mentor, my encourager …” Her whispered words trailed off.
“She loved you like a sister.”
“I know and it’s funny that we hit it off as well as we did. She was about ten years older than I. The same age as Samantha, and yet for some reason,” she shrugged, “we clicked.” A laugh. “I think I got the better end of the deal. I’m not so sure I did much for her. I was very needy, you know.”
The arm he’d settled over her shoulders pulled her closer to him. She let him, relishing the feeling of trusting him completely. His voice rumbled above her head. “She didn’t expect you to. Maya spent her life helping others, wanting to make a difference in the world.”
“You got that from her just from the few times you saw her?”
“Yep. And from observing your relationship with her.”
A tear trickled from the corner of her eye. “I know she’s with God, Dakota, but I miss her.”
“I know, hon.” He planted a kiss on top of her head.
“I don’t want to hate them,” she whispered in reference to Howard and Beth Wilkins, the brother and sister who’d suffered so dreadfully as children, warping their perception of the world and of people in general.
“No one would blame you if you did.”
“I would. I often think about what if someone had intervened sooner in their lives. What was wrong with people? Couldn’t they tell something was incredibly wrong in those children’s lives?” Another hug. “We’ve been over this. Things were different forty years ago, Jamie, you know that. Unfortunately, we can’t change it.”
“I know.” She knelt down and placed the flowers on the mound. She patted the headstone. “Bye, Maya. I’ll be back.”
Dakota took her hand. “Maya really made a difference in your life, didn’t she?”
Jamie looked up at him. “I wouldn’t be where I am today if God hadn’t placed her there for me. Even when I was rejecting him, he was taking care of me.”
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