Copycat Killer

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Copycat Killer Page 14

by Laura Scott

“Yay! I miss Murphy,” Lucy said, and followed her aunt to the bathroom.

  Just as Lucy was drying her hands, Willow heard footsteps outside the apartment door and then Noelle opening the door for Nate. The little girl rushed out to say hi.

  “Hi, Pipsqueak.” Nate’s welcoming smile and cute nickname warmed her heart. “I brought chicken for lunch.” He glanced at Noelle. “For you, too.”

  “Thanks.” Noelle joined them at the table. Willow put Lucy in her booster seat while Nate unpacked the chicken.

  “What did Damon have to say about Craggy Face?” Willow asked as they all began eating.

  “Damon didn’t go in to the restaurant today, so I didn’t get a chance to talk to him.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ve located his home address. I’m planning to head over there later. But first, we can take a trip to East Flatbush to pick up Lucy’s things.”

  Willow wanted to protest. The idea of Nate going to confront Damon at his home worried her. Sure, he was a trained cop and had a great partner in Murphy. But still, she didn’t like it.

  “Maybe Noelle should go with you.” The words popped out of her mouth before she could think about them.

  The two cops exchanged a look. “I’ll be fine,” Nate said. “Noelle has other duties, I’m sure.”

  Noelle finished her chicken, balled up the wrapper and stashed it in the bag. “I need to get back to Liberty, but if you need me, let me know.”

  Nate scowled. “I won’t.”

  Willow grimaced. She shouldn’t have overstepped. “Thanks again for coming over to sit with me, Noelle.”

  “Not a problem.” Noelle waved her gratitude. “Thanks for lunch, Nate, but I gotta run.” The officer said goodbye to Lucy and then left the apartment.

  “You don’t have faith in my ability to manage Berk?” Nate asked with a frown.

  “I do. I just...” She hesitated, unwilling to say too much. “I don’t want you to get hurt.” Or killed. The image of her brother and his wife lying dead on the living room floor flashed in her mind.

  “I’m done!” Lucy’s voice was a welcome intrusion. “I wanna get down.”

  Willow dabbed the girl’s face with a napkin before lifting Lucy out of the booster seat.

  “Ready to head out?” Nate asked as he helped her clean up the table.

  “Sure.” She glanced down at Lucy, wondering how her niece would take this. Maybe she could ask Nate to stay with Lucy in the car while she went in to get what she needed.

  She helped Lucy wiggle into a light jacket, then the little girl got into the stroller.

  Outside, the air was cool after the rainstorm the day before. She kept a tight grip on Lucy’s stroller.

  “My SUV is this way.” Nate walked beside her, his body placed in a way that protected her from anyone driving past on the street. Murphy kept pace beside him, his nose sniffing the air.

  When they reached Nate’s police vehicle, she was secretly glad when he stood protectively behind her as she placed Lucy in the car seat. Only after they were both settled safely inside did he put Murphy in the back and slide in behind the wheel.

  “Do you really think Damon will talk to you?” She couldn’t help ruminating on his plan to confront her former boss.

  Nate shrugged, his gaze focused on the traffic. “It can’t hurt to try. For all we know, he’s hiding from Craggy Face.”

  “Maybe.” She thought back to the day she’d taken photos of her gourmet burgers. It seemed like eons ago instead of mere weeks. Had the conversation between Damon and Craggy Face held a note of animosity? She didn’t think so. But then again, she hadn’t paid close attention to the conversation, her eyes on the lens.

  As they drove, she fell silent, dread forming in her gut as Nate brought them closer to her brother’s home. Like scenes from a movie, she remembered hearing the squeaky black iron gate swing open, seeing the front door hanging ajar, hearing the sounds of Lucy’s sobs.

  Finding her brother and his wife, dead.

  Nate pulled up to the curb and she forced herself back to the present. The house looked just as forlorn and unkempt as before—worse now, maybe, because of what had transpired within the four walls.

  Before Nate could speak, she looked at him. “I think you should stay in the car with Lucy while I go inside to get Lucy’s things.”

  He frowned. “No way. You stay here while I go.”

  “But I know where everything is.” She didn’t really want to go inside, but felt as if it was her duty to pick out the things Lucy needed.

  “Is her room on the second floor?” She nodded. “I’m sure I can find Lucy’s clothes and toys. Stay here, please.” His blue eyes were mesmerizing as they pleaded with her. “Maybe you can play a game to keep Lucy occupied.”

  She twisted in her seat, looking at Lucy, who was putting her fingers up to the crate and giggling as Murphy licked them. She nodded, deciding it was best for the little girl. “Okay.”

  Nate reached over to gently squeeze her hand before he got out of the car. He let Murphy out of the back and approached the house.

  Her hand tingled from where he’d touched it. She told herself to stop being foolish. Nate had made his stance perfectly clear. There couldn’t be anything between them.

  Other than friendship.

  * * *

  Nate carefully moved through the crime scene, heading up the stairs to the second floor with Murphy at his side.

  His partner sniffed around the room, no doubt recognizing Lucy’s scent. Nate tried to think like Willow, choosing outfits that matched, then poking through her toys. He found another doll and some large pink, orange and white Legos. He stuffed as many items as he could fit inside a large plastic bag before making his way back down to the main level.

  The crime scene was still marked with dried blood, but the rest of the house remained the same. He thought again about the mess, wondering if the killer had been searching for something. If Darcy or anyone on the team had found anything suspicious, like drugs or money hidden someplace inside, they’d have let him know. Either the killer had found it, or the items had been hidden somewhere else.

  He knew the crime scene techs had taken dozens of samples to test, a task that would likely take weeks to complete. And what they had tested so far had come up with a big fat nothing.

  Tamping down a stab of frustration, he reminded himself that the forensic team members were excellent at their job and would eventually find something that would help them solve the case.

  He hauled the bag outside, glancing up and down the street as he made his way toward the SUV. A black sedan, looking much like the one that had been stolen and used in Willow’s kidnapping attempt by Craggy Face, was coming toward them, driving much slower than the rest of the traffic.

  His pulse spiked and he quickened his pace, closing the gap between him and the car. “Willow, get down!”

  Willow’s pale face stared blankly at him for a moment, then she unlatched her seat belt and climbed over the console into the back seat. She curled her body protectively around Lucy in her car seat.

  He understood her need to protect the little girl, but he hated knowing they were both in danger yet again.

  Nate pulled his weapon, pointing it at the black sedan, tracking it as it crawled forward. He caught a glimpse of a deeply lined face behind the wheel, but then the driver pulled a cap down low and abruptly stomped on the gas.

  The black sedan lurched forward.

  “Stop! Police!” Nate’s shout caused several other drivers to look around as if trying to figure out who he was talking to.

  The black sedan rolled past. He wanted to shoot at the tires, but there were people crossing and so he held back for their safety.

  He stared at the license plate, which was covered in mud. Despite the dark smears, he could just make out the last two letters, EM.

  He ope
ned the back hatch. “Jump, Murphy.”

  His partner leaped inside the crated area. He slammed the back shut, then rounded the vehicle to get into the driver’s seat, taking a moment to toss the plastic bag of Lucy’s things in the passenger seat. He gunned the engine, flipped on the red-and-blue lights, and pulled into traffic.

  It was illegal to have your license plate obscured, unable to be clearly seen, an offense he could use to pull the driver over and issue a citation. If it was Craggy Face, all the better. He didn’t like following the guy with Lucy and Willow in the back seat, so he quickly keyed his radio.

  “This is Unit Ten requesting backup. I’m heading southwest on Linden Boulevard following a black Lincoln sedan, license plate mostly covered with mud, the last two letters Edward Mary.”

  “Ten-four,” the dispatcher responded. “There’s a patrol located about a mile east. I’ve directed them to your location.”

  “Copy.” Nate kept his gaze on the sedan. The driver ignored his lights, darting the Lincoln among cars to put more distance between them. Nate did his best to keep up, not wanting to lose him, yet unwilling to engage in a full-out chase with Willow and Lucy riding in the back seat.

  “Hurry. He’s getting away.” Willow’s voice was low and intense.

  He briefly met her gaze in the rearview mirror. “I can still see him. Backup will be here shortly.”

  “But I think it’s Craggy Face! And he’s getting away.” Willow looked distraught over the possibility.

  The black sedan made another cut over to the left lane, the driver he’d cut off punching the horn in a display of irritation. Nate did his best to keep pace without putting them in danger, desperate not to lose him.

  “He’s turned!” Willow’s voice rose in panic.

  Nate pushed his foot harder on the accelerator, cars moving out of his way as they realized he wasn’t interested in pulling them over, but in following someone else.

  Seconds later, he reached the same intersection, turning left. But when he looked up ahead, he didn’t see the black sedan.

  No! He couldn’t have lost him!

  “Look right, tell me if you see him.” Nate kept his gaze on the streets off to the left. There were several black cars, but no Lincoln sedan.

  “He’s not this way from what I can tell.” Willow’s voice was low and hoarse, as if she were fighting tears. “But there are lots of places to hide.”

  He couldn’t disagree. Still, he kept going straight, hoping he’d find the sedan. He reached for his radio. “Subject turned off the boulevard, and I haven’t been able to pick him up. Any hits on a black Lincoln with a license plate ending in Edward Mary?”

  “Let me send you to Eden, she’s searching for a possible match.”

  “Thanks.” He ground his teeth together, vying for patience.

  “Nate? I have a report of another stolen vehicle, a 2013 black Lincoln sedan.” She read him the license plate, ending with EM.

  “Stolen?” He couldn’t believe it. “When?”

  “Earlier this morning, same MO as the previous theft. Owner is Joe Keene. He works for Keene, Carmel and Banks, a law firm. He claims he came home just after midnight and didn’t realize his car was gone until late the following morning.” Eden’s voice held remorse.

  “Get a BOLO out for the vehicle. I want every cop in the entire borough looking for it.”

  “Understood.” He heard Eden’s fingers tapping on her computer keyboard. “I’m bringing up all cameras in the Linden Boulevard area. Maybe we’ll find him.”

  “Yeah. Call me if you do.” Nate dropped his hand from the radio, resisting the urge to slam his fist against the steering wheel.

  He couldn’t believe he lost him. That his backup hadn’t arrived in time. Sure, Eden might be able to pick him up, but he knew it was likely that the driver, if it was Craggy Face, would ditch the stolen vehicle as soon as possible.

  “We lost him.” Willow’s voice was little more than a pained whisper.

  Her disappointment stabbed deep. Remorse burned hot, churning in his belly. This was the second time he’d failed her. First when he’d been lured away by a fake crime, barely returning in time to prevent Craggy Face from kidnapping her, and now this.

  He couldn’t allow a mistake like this to happen again.

  FOURTEEN

  Lucy’s sobbing had eventually eased, but knowing her niece was calm didn’t make her feel any better. Willow knew that the black sedan with the muddy license plate had been there because of them. A close call that could have ended much worse if Nate hadn’t shown up when he did. Despite how much she’d wanted clothes and toys for Lucy, it wasn’t worth the risk.

  She wished she understood why Craggy Face was after her. None of it made any sense and she was growing weary of constantly being under surveillance and protection.

  The sooner Nate and his team found and arrested Craggy Face, the better.

  Nate’s grim expression held a note of self-recrimination. As if this was his fault, when she’d been the one to ask to come back for Lucy’s things.

  From now on, she knew she needed to stay inside the apartment with Lucy. No more outings, no matter how stir-crazy they became from being cooped up inside.

  “I’m taking you and Lucy home,” Nate said, interrupting her thoughts. “I never should have allowed you to come along.”

  “None of this is your fault, Nate. God was watching over all of us, and thanks to you and Murphy, you scared him off.”

  Nate gave a sharp shake of his head in a frustrated gesture but didn’t argue. They rode in silence back to her apartment building in Bay Ridge. Ironically, the black sedan had taken them in the direction of her home.

  And the Burgerteria.

  It seemed all roads led back to the restaurant where she’d worked for three years. Three years! And never a hint of anything illegal going on related to Damon Berk, or anyone else for that matter.

  She rested her head against Lucy’s car seat, battling a wave of exhaustion. Logically she knew her fatigue was just the aftermath of the adrenaline rush, but she also hadn’t been sleeping well.

  Mostly because Lucy had been plagued by nightmares of her parents’ murders. The little girl often moaned about the mean clown and repeated over and over again she didn’t want the monkey.

  Willow wasn’t sure how to reassure Lucy that taking the stuffed monkey from the bad clown didn’t mean she was responsible for the death of her parents. She thought again about Penny McGregor and the rapport she’d established with her niece. Maybe she could get Penny to come back to talk to the little girl again.

  Nate pulled into a parking spot and shut down the engine. He turned in his seat to look at her. “Murphy and I are going to escort you and Lucy inside first. I’ll bring up your things later.”

  “Okay.” She took Lucy out of the car seat, holding her close as she slid out of the vehicle. Nate’s strong arms surrounded her and his woodsy scent helped calm her nerves.

  The trip to her apartment was uneventful. Nate left Murphy on guard as he retrieved the plastic bag, along with his computer.

  As she unpacked, putting Lucy’s things into dresser drawers, Nate remained hunched over his computer. When she’d finished creating a toy corner for Lucy, she crossed over to see what he was doing.

  “That’s a nice building,” she said, looking at the elegant apartment building on the screen. The building looked new.

  “Yeah, the real question is how does Damon Berk afford to live there?”

  Good point, although her building was nice. Not new and fancy, but decent. “Maybe, like me, he had money from an inheritance.”

  “Maybe.” Nate didn’t sound convinced. He continued various searches. “Check this out. The owner of the new apartment building Damon lives in is a guy by the name of Oscar Banjo. Banjo also owns the building that houses the Burgerteria and
that new place you were talking about the other day, the Basement Bargains store.”

  A shiver snaked down her spine.

  Nate’s gaze was fixated on the screen as he continued to search. “Banjo isn’t our Craggy Face, though. Here’s a photo of him at the ribbon-cutting ceremony. That’s him, standing beside Theresa Gray, deputy mayor of housing and economic development.”

  She bent over his shoulder to see the screen more clearly. Oscar Banjo was young, in his thirties. Younger than she’d thought to have amassed such a fortune. “Definitely not our Craggy Face.”

  Nate pulled a chair over and gestured toward it. “No, but it is interesting that he owns the building the restaurant is in. Sit down, Willow. I need you to think hard about whether or not you remember seeing this man in the restaurant, maybe before you took those photos.”

  She dropped into the chair, her gaze fixated on the screen. There was something familiar about his features, but she couldn’t place where she’d seen him. “I can’t say for sure, but he may have been in the restaurant.”

  “Take your time,” Nate urged. “You have a photographer’s eye. Think back to those weeks leading up to the day you took the photos of your gourmet burgers.”

  She didn’t want to disappoint him, and she really, really wanted to help put Craggy Face behind bars. But as she stared at Oscar Banjo’s face, she simply couldn’t say for certain when he’d been in the restaurant. His features were ordinary, nothing that would have captured her artist eye.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t say for sure.” Her shoulders slumped. “I wish I could, but I can’t. There’s nothing about this guy that would have captured my attention. He could be one of hundreds of customers that came in and out of the restaurant each day.”

  “That’s okay. Thanks for trying.” If Nate was frustrated, he didn’t show it. “Interesting that he’s so young. This guy is being touted as one of New York’s up-and-coming real estate moguls. He just turned thirty-six last month.”

  “Yeah, but again, that doesn’t prove anything.” She wasn’t sure where Nate was going with his comments. “I’m sure he made a couple of investments that happened to pay off.”

 

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