Chris looked up at her. “Just tired, that’s all. I’m just trying to get a few more hours in while I’ve got the chance. I’m busy with community briefings for the next few days.”
“Damn job getting in the way of our side project.” Hopkins laughed. “Go home, relax, sleep, get drunk. You’re useless like this.”
Chris shook his head. “No, I—”
She held up a hand, her face serious now. “I’m not joking, Chris. If you keep working like this, you’ll make mistakes. What we’re doing is dangerous enough without you being overtired and fucking something up. I’ll keep working on it, but you need to go home. You can start fresh tomorrow.”
Chris didn’t want to tell her he didn’t really have a home in Omaha. He had an apartment with a bed and some other odd pieces of furniture, but he hated it and barely spent any time there. It wasn’t a place of rest or warmth. He spent most of his free time and his salary at the bar next to his house, only going home for a quick sleep, a shower, a shave, and a change of clothes. Between the work and the drinking he was slowly coming apart.
“Chris.” Hopkins broke his reverie, now standing with her hands on her hips. “If you agree to go home, I’ll tell you what I just found.”
“Fine.” Chris raised an eyebrow. He saved the document he was working on, shut down his laptop and started to gather his things. “I’m listening.”
“I think I’ve found a survivor.”
Chris stopped what he was doing. His mouth fell open. The ramifications were enormous. Though Chelsea Butler had survived, and provided a wealth of information, it was limited. Chris also knew there was no way he could make contact with her, because Nowitski would find out and he’d be busted. This was huge.
“You found a survivor?”
“You’re so tired you’re repeating what I’m saying.” She smiled. “Look, no promises, but it adds up. I spent a bunch of time on the National Crime Information Center database, and also dug into some case reports. It took some work, but I think it fits. She’s a woman in Boston who I think survived a run-in with our killer.”
“You’re sure?” Chris was hanging on her every word.
“No, but she fits the profile, except for the hair. She’s a natural blonde, but she had red hair at the time of the attack. Her attacker fits the profile. The attempted murder fits the chronology of when we think our guy was in the state, and she had nasty things happen right before it. It’s worth looking at. It’s the best lead I’ve found.”
Chris couldn’t believe it. His mistake in New York City had been focusing on potential victims, rather than on the big picture. Though he’d come close to getting his man, he wondered if he might’ve actually caught the killer if he’d taken a different approach. He should’ve been focusing on linking the kills in New York to those in other places.
“I want to speak with her.”
She shook her head. “Hold your horses. First we need to see if she’s willing to talk. I’ll follow it up tonight while you’re at home trying to get some sleep. Once I’ve done that, we’ll figure out how to speak to her without raising any red flags. Getting from Omaha to Boston without tripping the alarm is going to be hard.”
Chris nodded. She was right. “We can’t let anyone else get wind of what we’re doing. Do the legwork and then I’ll see if I can get out to Boston to talk to her.”
“Fat chance!” She laughed. “I found her, and I’m going to prep her. I’m not going to let you walk in there and take the glory!”
“I was hoping—”
“Keep dreaming, Chris. I’m only doing this with you because it’s interesting. There’s no way I’m going to miss the chance to speak with this woman. Let me see if there’s any substance, then we’ll figure out a pretext to head out there. Both of us. Those are my conditions, in addition to you getting some sleep.”
Chris wanted to protest, to stay in the office and help her chase down this fresh new lead, but she seemed adamant. “Fine. I’ll go straight home.”
She smiled. “Great.”
Chris didn’t tell her that the chances of him getting any sleep were slight.
31
Ashley
Ashley gripped her coffee cup in one hand, while fumbling with the keys to the store in the other. Finally, she got the door unlocked. Putting the keys back in her purse, she picked up the mail that had been slipped underneath the door, walked to the counter and put her coffee down. A flick through the mail showed that it was all junk, so she threw it in the trash.
Ashley whistled a nameless tune as she readied the store, still pleased that Jana had entrusted her to do so. She unlocked the cash register, turned on the lights, opened the curtains, put on a coffee pot and wiped down the counter. In less than fifteen minutes, the store was ready for the day’s business. Ashley had been working there long enough now that Jana had started rostering her to open up in the morning.
For most people it wouldn’t be a big deal. For Ashley it was a huge sign of progress.
Jana walked through the door about an hour later, looking tired and a little worse for wear. Another thing Ashley had learned was that her boss liked to party. Ashley was well past hanging out in bars until past midnight, but Jana seemed able to drink herself into oblivion and still show up for work the next day. Today, she wore dark sunglasses, even inside the store.
“Morning!” Ashley was deliberately chirpy, amused by the sight of someone else in a mess for once. “There’s some coffee in the pot.”
Jana’s response came in the form of a mumble. “Thanks, Ashley. I appreciate you opening up.”
Ashley smiled and resumed her work. The morning passed uneventfully, with Ashley handling the few customers that came in and Jana doing her best to stay upright. Slowly, the coffee kicked in and Ashley managed to engage in an actual conversation with Jana. The other woman’s exploits were way outside of Ashley’s comfort zone, and it sounded like the previous night was no exception. Ashley smiled and nodded, but was glad when a customer walked in.
Ashley greeted the customer. “Good morning. Is there anything in particular you’re after today?”
The elderly woman took a few more steps inside the shop and spoke. “Yes, yes. I’m after a dress for my daughter. It’s her birthday next month. Could you show me a selection?”
“Of course.” Ashley smiled. “We’ve got a good range. Let me gather up a few that might suit.”
Ashley chose half a dozen dresses for the woman to look at. She considered it practice for when Lucy grew up. The thought of Lucy made her smile. The previous evening, Ashley had spent the whole night with her. Tom had driven her to Ashley’s house, and then found a local sports bar to watch football at while Ashley cooked a meal for Lucy. It was the first time she’d had Lucy in her house. It had felt good, especially after the scare she’d had a few weeks ago. Ashley felt like her little girl’s laughter had been her version of a housewarming.
It took around twenty minutes to find something the woman was happy with. Ashley suggested that she bring her daughter in to try it on, but the woman insisted that what she’d selected would be fine. The woman paid, Ashley bagged up the dress and the customer left the store.
Ashley turned to check with Jana, only to realize she wasn’t there. Ashley double checked, but the store was totally empty. Jana’s absence was strange. She glanced into the back room and realized what had happened. The back door was ajar, meaning Jana had used the back door to go out to her car, which she usually parked in the alley beside the store. With a sigh of relief, Ashley glanced outside, then her alarm bells started to ring again.
Jana was nowhere to be seen and her car was still parked in the space. Ashley walked down the alley to the street at the front of the store, which was virtually empty. She waited there for several moments, looking up and down the street and scratching her head. She watched one car drive past, then a guy ride past on his bike, but nothing she saw helped her figure out what had happened. It was unusual for Jana to disappear from the
store without a word.
The last thing Ashley thought to try was dialing Jana’s cell phone. She went inside, found her phone behind the counter and dialed. The call went straight to voicemail. Ashley leaned on the counter and put her chin in her hands. She had no idea what had happened to Jana. It was the first time she had ever vanished without telling Ashley where she was going, but she was the boss. She could come and go as she pleased.
Ashley thought about calling the cops, but knew they’d laugh it off and accuse her of overreacting. With a shrug, she walked back inside the store and got back to work. It wouldn’t be long until Jana returned, anyway. She’d probably just gone to the grocery store.
32
Duncan
Duncan pressed his finger against the cylinder of the revolver and gave it a firm spin. It made a slight whirring sound as it turned, and Duncan watched it until it stopped. Only then did he look up at his prisoner, sucking in a breath through his teeth. She was still out cold. He let the breath out slowly in the form of a long sigh that escaped between pressed together lips. He had a lot of patience, but this woman was testing it. She’d been out cold for a couple of hours now.
“Who knew chloroform could be so effective?” He sighed again. He'd probably used too much. Or not used it correctly. He'd never had to bother with that sort of thing, because he rarely came into contact with his targets. Instead, he dismantled them from a distance, only moving in for the final kill. Chelsea Butler had been the only exception, and look how that had ended.
He’d promised himself he’d revert to form, to being methodical and calculating and smart. And so Duncan had tried to resist scooping up Ashley’s boss. He’d had every intention of taking his time as he researched Ashley, quietly and carefully constructing a picture of her life before finally moving to destroy it. But his promise hadn’t lasted long. This one was different, because she was different.
Emotion had gotten the better of him, and when he’d seen the opportunity he’d taken it.
Ashley’s boss had emerged from the back of the store and stepped out into the alley. He'd been watching the front of the store from inside his car, focused on Ashley, when he’d noticed the manager making repeat trips to her car. Something had snapped inside of him. He’d fumbled around in the back of his car for the rag and the chloroform, got out, and crossed the road. He’d snuck up behind her and forced the rag over her mouth.
She hadn’t seen him coming, and it hadn’t taken long to subdue her. Duncan didn’t think anyone had seen him pull his car around the other end of the alley and put her into the trunk.
Duncan smiled as the woman finally started to stir. He was itching to get on with this, because he had a shift at his new job later in the day. Having to split his time with a job was frustrating, but he needed the money. He walked over to the woman, removed the cloth he’d tied over her eyes and then took a step back. It took a few minutes for her to come around. She opened her eyes, blinked a few times and then panicked as she realized her situation.
“Mmmm!” She screamed, but the gag muffled the noise.
Duncan tapped the revolver against his leg as he leaned in, getting ever closer. He enjoyed watching as her eyes widened, her terror clear. He stopped an inch from her face and brought the revolver up under her chin. He smiled, and she let out a squeal. “I thought you’d never wake up.”
“Mmmm!”
“You need to be quiet while I explain what’s going to happen here.” Duncan spoke slowly, calmly. “If you promise to be quiet, I’ll ungag you. If you tell me who you are, I’ll give you some water. If you tell me what I want, you’ll live. Those are the only things you need to think about right now. Okay?”
“Mmmm!” This time she nodded insistently. “Mmmm! Mmmm!”
“Okay. Remember, if you scream, you’ll die in the next fifteen seconds.” He reached out and untied the gag, then pulled it away and smiled. “Better?”
“Thank you.” She spoke in only a whisper, but the tremor in her voice was clear. She opened her mouth widely and licked her lips. “Who are you?”
“I’m the person who’ll decide whether you live or die.” Duncan took a step back, dragged his chair over and sat opposite her. “Tell me who you are.”
“I’m Jana Greenham.”
Duncan smiled. As she squirmed and waited for him to continue, Duncan took a second to calm himself. The prospect of finally learning more about the woman who’d damaged him so profoundly was tantalizing. This was his first chance for him to strike back after waiting for so many years. It was the first spark of a fire that would consume her life, if he had his way. She had been his singular focus so many years ago, and now Duncan could feel it happening again.
He had a brief moment of doubt as he considered what would happen after he’d finished with her. He’d spent a decade fantasizing about finding her, but never expected he’d actually do so. He’d tried, and failed, for years. But after hearing the message on the phone and travelling to Wallingford, it had actually happened. He’d found her. Now he feared no high would ever be greater than the moment he saw the spark in her eyes go out.
But that was a question for another day.
First he needed to learn all about her life for the last decade. He gave Jana a sip of water, which she sucked down greedily. He’d read on the internet that the key to a successful interrogation was to establish trust, boundaries, and consequences. He’d killed plenty of women, but he’d never had to torture one before. Duncan liked learning new skills, but not when their application was so important.
“Tell me everything you know about Ashley.” He moved the water bottle away from her mouth.
“Ashley?” Jana’s face screwed up in confusion. “My staff member? Why do you want to know about her?”
“You need to stop asking questions.” Duncan walked over to the table where he’d assembled his collection of torture implements. “And start answering them.”
“Please, just let me go.” The woman’s voice grew urgent, and desperate, as she watched Duncan caress the objects on the table. “I barely know her.”
Duncan sighed. He picked up one of the screwdrivers and spun it in his fingers as he walked back to the woman. He locked eyes with her, held her gaze for a few seconds, then drove the screwdriver down into her leg as hard as he could. She let out an ear-splitting scream as her eyes bulged and stared at the screwdriver now sticking out of her upper thigh. Duncan didn’t mind that she’d screamed. He’d only wanted her quiet earlier for his own comfort.
“Please!” Her nostrils were flaring as she screamed. Spittle came from her mouth and snot escaped her nose. “Let me go!”
“Nobody will hear you scream. We’re miles from anyone who can help you.” He smiled at her. “Now, you need to start paying attention. Answer my question.”
Her eyes flickered between Duncan and the screwdriver protruding from her thigh. Her breath came in short bursts. “Okay.”
Duncan exhaled with relief. He was glad he didn’t have to totally break this woman to get her to talk. He’d searched for Ashley for years, and always found it strange that she had no internet profile, had left so little mark on the world. She was all but invisible, and he intended to find out why. Ashley’s manager was the first key to finding out where Ashley had been for the last decade.
Since she’d run away from him.
33
Chris
“Day release is nice.” Chris laughed, enjoying the fresh air blowing in through the car window. “We should’ve just flown to Boston, though.”
“Try explaining that to Tony.” Hopkins scoffed. “I told him I needed to go to DC, and he thinks that’s where we are right now, working diligently.”
Chris grunted, knowing he was travelling at Hopkins’ pleasure. That she’d managed to negotiate a trip to the northeast at all was incredible, but somehow she had also convinced their boss that she needed Chris along for support. It hadn’t taken much for him to agree. None of the other agents in the office ha
d offered to go with Hopkins, too busy with their own caseloads, so begrudgingly, Harvey had agreed to Chris doing so.
They’d flown Washington DC with five days to get their work done. In that time, Chris and Hopkins had three things to do: speak to the woman who’d escaped their killer, test Chris’s theory with a trip to the National Center for the Analysis of Violent Crime – an FBI resource – and, finally, make some solid progress on the case Hopkins was working. At Dulles they’d jumped straight into a rental car and started the seven-hour drive to Boston.
“We’re here.” Hopkins exhaled slowly as she signaled and pulled the car over to the curb.
Chris looked at the house, thinking about the woman who lived there. By all rights she should be dead, another victim of a serial killer nobody except Chris and Hopkins wanted to believe existed. Instead, six years ago, she’d escaped, before moving overseas for a short while. She hadn’t shown up in any of Chris’s searches because a cop had input her hair color incorrectly. Hopkins had found her when looking for crime reports with similar but not exact profiles to the other victims.
“Let me handle the conversation to start with.” Hopkins’ voice was insistent. “You’re too close to this. We don’t want to spook her.”
Chris wanted to protest, but he knew she had a point. He would be like a kid with a new toy, whereas she’d be more measured. “Okay. Let’s go.”
They exited the car and approached the house. Chris inhaled slowly through his nose and then out again, trying to stay calm, hoping desperately that the next few minutes might give them something to help break open the case. They needed it. He needed it. He knocked on the front door of the nondescript family home and waited. From inside came the deep barks of a dog, then footsteps as someone approached the door.
The door opened and a middle-aged man greeted them, suspicion on his face and the dog beside him. “Yes?”
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