The stunned silence of her friends had Allie scrambling forward to provide protection for Max. “He’s kidding!” She forced a laugh. “It’s a joke. He has a very inappropriate sense of humor.”
“Uh-huh.” Simone nodded slowly, her long hair brushing against the soft fabric of her yellow T-shirt. Allie blinked to try to process her friend’s continuing fashion transformation. “I really don’t think that was a joke.”
“If I hadn’t broken in, you all would be having a different type of night,” Max said. “I bumped the lock just after six. The alarm panel was dead from the start. No lights. That envelope was on the floor. Seeing as Allie led her protective entourage off to the marina around five, whoever broke in before me had an hour window. Might be worth checking with the neighbors. Personally, I wasn’t surprised to see the system not working. I figured she just hadn’t been using it since she doesn’t lock her car doors.”
“Criminy, Allie, still?” Eden sounded more irritated at her than she did at the idea of Max Kellan breaking into Allie’s home. “Didn’t my experience in that parking lot last summer teach you anything?”
“Yes, it taught me not to go after serial killers all on my own,” Allie snapped and glared at Max. “And you, not helpful.”
He shrugged. “How do you think I found out where you live?”
“Because Allie keeps her car registration in the glove box,” Cole said. “Wow. Now I know what to get you for Christmas. Someone’s going to take self-defense classes.”
“Someone can already kick your butt,” Allie said, grumbling. “When did this little get-together become a referendum on my personal security? He’s the one who committed a crime.” She jabbed a finger at Max.
“I’d like to point out that arresting him isn’t going to do much for your relationship,” Eden countered.
Relationship? Allie scoffed and added coffee to the coffeemaker. “Vince, back me up here.” She turned to the P.I. as he came up the basement stairs. One glance at his normally unreadable face had her insides shifting in dread. She leaned against the counter as the room fell silent again. “I know that expression, Vince. You found something.”
“Did you go down in the basement at all?” Vince asked Max.
“No. Didn’t even think about it,” Max said and surprised Allie by moving closer to her. Instead of being irritated by the protective gesture, she found herself leaning into him. “Why?”
Vince nodded as if processing the information. “Follow me.”
“As loquacious as ever,” Eden mumbled as she took the lead and headed downstairs.
Allie’s heart pounded in her chest. Darn it! Now she was going to have to explain what she kept in the basement. She went last, trying not to imagine what was going through their minds.
“This doesn’t disturb me at all.” Simone examined the expansive basement that had been designed to Allie’s specifications. When she’d first been looking for houses, she hadn’t taken only the number of bedrooms and bathrooms into consideration; she hadn’t particularly cared how decked out the kitchen was. She’d wanted her space, her private area that allowed her the luxury of working out her frustrations in as many ways as possible.
“You women and your basements.” Cole pushed his fist against the free-standing punching bag while Vince circled the nearly five-foot-tall body opponent she’d named Steve. “First Eden with her psycho room—”
“Research lab,” Eden corrected. “Something we’ve all used, remember?”
“I don’t have a basement.” Simone circled the sand bag hanging in the center of the space. “But now I know where to come if my treadmill breaks down. Allie? Something you want to share with the rest of us?”
“I’m pretty small, in case you hadn’t noticed.” Allie watched Max and Vince admire her collection of gloves, rubber knives and other equipment. “I need every advantage I can get.” She didn’t think they were up to hearing the news she’d increased her one-on-one training sessions with a former Navy Seal turned self-defense teacher in the last few weeks. Taking a page from Max’s humor manual, she added, “You aren’t going to find me hanging in a meat locker.”
“Now that’s just rude,” Eden said.
“Good to know there’s a sparring partner in the family for you, Vince.” Simone dipped her chin, a wry smile on her face.
“If anything, this setup convinces me you’re capable of taking care of yourself,” Vince said. “Over there. By the open transom window.” He gestured around the corner from where the power box for the alarm system was situated on the wall. “Not exactly the best place for growing flowers.”
The group moved toward the potted violet, which was twice the size of the one that had been left on the Vandermont property near the girls’ tent.
“I’d like to go on record that if you ever bring me flowers, I’ll deck you,” Eden said to Cole.
“Noted.” Cole moved in to examine the window. “We’re going to have to get Tammy out here to dust for prints. May as well have her do the phone, too.”
“What’s the use?” It wasn’t defeat that coated Allie’s words but frustration. When were they going to catch a break? “Lab techs won’t find any, except mine. I’m sure we can all agree this guy hasn’t stayed hidden for twenty years by leaving prints behind. He didn’t where Simone’s pictures were concerned, he didn’t up at the Vandermonts’.” Chloe’s killer—Hope’s captor—may as well be a ghost.
“No, he hasn’t left anything, has he?” Vince said. “But then, as Eden’s learned, he hasn’t been hiding for twenty years, either.”
“What are you talking about?” Max asked. “Allie led me to believe...”
Allie squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them again, she no longer found friendliness and affection displayed on Max’s face. She didn’t flinch. Not when his beautiful eyes narrowed. Not when his jaw clenched.
“Chloe wasn’t the only one, was she?” Max asked.
“No.” Eden came up behind Allie and dropped a hand on her arm. “She wasn’t.”
“Eden found evidence Chloe’s killer didn’t go dormant,” Allie clarified. “We think she’s found at least three more victims.”
“Three?” Max gave a very slow, big nod. “Three other murdered girls. Tell me again why I should trust you?” He swung on Allie. “You’re still keeping secrets from me. Still lying to me.”
“I thought you told him.” Vince cringed, regret shining in his sharp eyes. “Sorry, Allie.”
Allie waved off his concern. This wasn’t his fault.
“Don’t be,” Max snapped. “It’s not as if it’s my niece’s life we’re trying to save or anything. You said three as far as you know.” Allie flinched when he turned his back on her to address Eden. “How long do we have?”
“According to that clock on the phone, less than seventy-two hours.” Eden didn’t hesitate. “For what it’s worth, Allie planned to tell you. There just hasn’t been much—”
“Time?” Max drew himself up. “From where I’m standing, you all have had twenty years—”
“They were kids when this started,” Cole cut him off. “Nine-year-olds don’t exactly have access to police files and investigations.”
“That isn’t what I mean and you know it,” Max blasted. “And what’s with this violet thing?” He waved a dismissive hand to the beautiful, toxic plant. “Clearly he’s trying to say something, so what is it? I’m guessing nothing murderers like this do would be on the spur of the moment. Everything means something.”
The violets. Allie flinched, as if the flowers had smacked her in the face. Violets. So simple in their basic terra-cotta pot, their deep, dark purple petals elegantly displayed. Lush leaves, plump stems. Someone had cared for this plant. Nurtured it. Almost as if it was more than a reminder of where their friend’s body had been found.
“He
’s right. I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before.” She pushed past Eden and raced up the stairs to her office. She was tapping on her computer when they joined her. “When were the girls found? What months?” Allie asked as she skimmed the information in the search engine.
“Two in late May,” Eden said. “The other three in late July or early August. I can get you exact—”
“That’s violet season.” Allie flipped her laptop around. “Which is sometimes longer depending on the weather. Like it was this time twenty years ago. That field of violets bloomed late into August. You told us where all the bodies were found earlier, Cole. A park and a lake for two of them. It’s another connection—a natural one. Flowers in particular. I need to look at those crime scene photos when you get them, Eden. We need to examine exactly where each body was left and what was around them.”
“Don’t forget there was also a strip mall,” Simone added.
“It’s the oddity.” Cole shook his head. “An outlier.”
“Three out of four isn’t a coincidence,” Eden said. “This gives us something to go on.”
And isn’t that what they’d all been hoping for? A real starting point?
“Not to be a pest,” Max asked from the doorway. “But I don’t suppose this epiphany of yours gives you any idea of where to look for my niece, does it? Because, if not, I’m going to follow through on Allie’s idea starting tomorrow and start banging on every door in this city.”
“Give us a few hours to work this through, Max,” Vince told him. “If nothing pans out, I’ll join you. Right now we need to address something we’re probably choosing to ignore subconsciously. Whoever took Hope has spent a good part of his day focused on Allie. I see that as a good thing.”
Allie nodded. “It means his attention’s divided.”
“But he could kill Hope at any time. Or she’s already dead.” Max’s simple statement sent a chill down Allie’s spine.
“I refuse to believe that,” Allie snapped. “She was alive to make that video and that’s what I’m going to cling to. Vince is right. He’s had his fun with Eden and Simone. Now it’s my turn. He’ll want to draw this out as long as possible. I say we take complete advantage of that and keep the focus on me.”
“What are you thinking?” Cole asked.
“She’s not thinking,” Eden said. “She’s already thought. You have a plan, don’t you?”
“All these years we thought killing Chloe was his only crime,” Allie said. “Now we know different.”
“Know. Can’t prove,” Cole corrected.
Allie waved away his criticism. “We know. Jack and Lieutenant Santos think it’s time we expose the connection between Hope’s disappearance and Chloe’s case. With these other cases, we have more information than the killer probably realizes. Let’s throw everything out there and see what happens. What better person to present that information to the media, what better person to twist the knife, than the psychologist with a personal interest who’s also consulting on the case?”
“So your solution is to paint a big bull’s-eye on your chest and hope his aim sucks.” Simone arched a brow. “Forgive me if I vote nay.”
“My solution is to see what sticks. And I wasn’t asking for anyone’s permission.” If anything, Allie’s decision brought her an odd sense of peace. “Cole? Can you make this happen?”
“Yeah, Cole?” Eden swung on him, hands planted on her hips. “Can you?”
“The married part of me is thinking I should say no,” Cole said after a pause. “I hate the idea of you putting yourself out there as much as Eden and Simone do, Allie. He’s been building up to this for decades. You could very well be his endgame.”
“You all could,” Vince added. “There’s nothing saying he’s stopped focusing on Eden and Simone. Maybe he’s just added you to the mix.”
“Except it was Allie’s patient he abducted,” Simone said. “And it was Allie who received the phone.”
“And if it’s going to come down to the three of us, I’m happy to take point.” Allie pushed to her feet. “You two finally got what you always wanted with these two.” She gestured at Cole and Vince. “I’m not letting anything interrupt your happily-ever-afters.”
“Funny.” Eden looked down at her tennis shoes. “I don’t remember putting on my glass slippers this morning.”
“Do I look like a fairy-tale princess?” Simone flipped her long blond hair behind her shoulder.
“I’m going to go out on a limb here and suggest no one answer that,” Max said. “I agree with Eden and Simone, Allie. Your plan is too dangerous. And while I don’t appreciate you all playing keep-away with the truth, you should know I’m not going anywhere until I get Hope back. Whatever it is you’re going to do to get this guy, I want in.”
“Third time’s the charm.” Eden’s claim had a hint of annoyed acceptance. “We each have wound up with our own bodyguard. Now it’s your turn, Allie. If you want to do this, then Max sticks with you 24/7. That’s the only way I’ll agree.”
“Your agreement is not required. And absolutely not,” Allie said. Why wasn’t anyone listening to her? “I’m doing this to keep the two of you out of the line of fire, not make more targets.”
“That’s nice, Allie, but I don’t see it like that. Your child killer made me a target when he took my niece. So I’m in,” Max said. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked to Cole and Vince. “Suggestions?”
“Given what I saw in the basement?” Vince reached out and slipped his hand into Simone’s. “Wear protective gear. You’re going to need it.”
Chapter 11
Max stood at Allie’s living room window and watched the parade of cars carrying her friends away. Tomlinson and Bowie had taken off a while ago, replaced by another duo who, as far as Max was concerned, weren’t much different. They parked their not-so-inconspicuous sedan strategically across Allie’s driveway, ensuring she couldn’t leave without them. Not that she was going anywhere at—he glanced at his watch—nearly one thirty in the morning.
In the dark room alone, the night pressed in on him, ringing in his ears as if a silent reminder of the nearly twenty-four hours since Hope vanished.
He swallowed hard, doing his best to shove the growing fear aside. Every second that passed, every minute they didn’t hear, was both good news and bad. It had only been a day for him and yet, somehow, Allie, Simone and Eden had dealt with the aftereffects of their friend’s murder for over two decades.
How? he wondered as exhaustion crept over him like a cat stalking its prey. How did anyone ever deal with something like this? As selfish as it sounded, he did not want to find out.
“I put fresh towels in the guest bathroom for you.” Allie’s voice was quiet enough that she didn’t surprise him. How could she when he felt the air charge whenever she was around him? “Guest room is all ready.”
He nodded, unable to form the words around the paralyzing grief threatening to take hold. She moved in behind him, brushed timid fingers over his arm. “You’re completely justified being angry at me.”
“Good to know I have your approval.” He saw her eyes glint in the dim light cast from the kitchen. “No head games tonight, Doc, please.”
To put some distance between them, he walked over to the small sofa, sat where he’d waited hours earlier for her to come home. How had so much happened between now and then? How had so much changed?
She’d changed. Her clothes at least. Gone was the bright spring color of soft fabric. Instead she wore a pair of striped pink flannel pajama bottoms and matching top. If possible, she appeared even younger than she did normally, with her face displaying that freshly scrubbed glow. She tucked her feet under, curling into a ball in the corner of the sofa, close enough for him to feel the warmth of her body radiating toward him. Close enough to smell the freshness
of the soap she’d used. “I could make you some warm milk. If you think it might help you to sleep.”
“I don’t sleep, remember?” But he wanted to now, more than he had in he couldn’t remember how long. He slumped down, rested his head on the back of the sofa, stretched out his legs. What he wouldn’t give for a few hours of oblivion, a few minutes of not dwelling on what might be, on what could be happening to Hope. On what would never be the same. “I appreciate the offer.”
“Personally, I could do with a fifth of Scotch, but Cole finished mine the last time he was here.”
Small talk. The doc was making small talk with him. Why? Because she was nervous? Or because she felt guilty about having lied to him from almost the first moment they’d met. Or because maybe none of this would be happening if it wasn’t for her and her friends? “One of us should be coherent for that press conference tomorrow, Doc. You should go to bed.”
She leaned her chin on her arm, which she’d braced on the back of the sofa. “Too wired. Too much going on up here.” She tapped a finger against her temple. “But I’m choosing to focus on that look on her face in that video, Max. She’s a smart girl. And she’s angry. Both are going to work to her advantage.”
He stared at her, jaw tightening. Hope shouldn’t need an advantage like that.
“Max, if your thoughts weren’t spinning out of control, I’d be worried.”
“You should have told me about Chloe,” he accused.
“Why?” She nodded as if contemplating her answer. “Would it have made your day easier? Would it have made anything better?”
“No.” The only thing that would have made his day easier was to hear Hope had been found safe. Found alive. “But I might have liked being able to trust you. That trip to Napa was a complete waste of time.”
“You needed to feel as if you were doing something.”
“But it took you away from doing your job.”
Gone in the Night Page 13