He shook his head. “I’ve been a bit busy. After I visited your house, I had to go home to mine.” His throat tightened up, and he fought to maintain control. “It seems the killer kidnapped my wife.”
Cindy stared at him, eyes wide in shock. “I’m so sorry,” she managed to finally whisper. She tried to put a hand on his arm, but then seemed to think better of it. She bit her lip and tears sparkled in her eyes but did not fall. He was at least grateful for that.
“It happened earlier today apparently. I have my theories as to who did it, but I don’t have proof. And without that, I have nothing.”
“I think a police officer is involved,” Cindy blurted out. The words seemed harsh, judgmental the way she said them, but he knew from the look on her face that she did not mean them to.
“I’ve come to the same conclusion,” Mark said wearily. He had been wrong to jump to conclusions about why she was calling. He took a sip of coffee to calm himself. “Time to swap info?”
Cindy nodded eagerly. “I don’t feel good being the only one with the knowledge in my head.”
It was funny, but Mark wasn’t in the mood to laugh. “You go first.”
He listened carefully as she explained everything. When she was finished, he filled her in on what he and Paul had learned. She nodded repeatedly through his telling of events until he came to the end.
“It seems we’ve gotten to the same place,” she said.
“It appears so. Intriguing idea about the chip. It would explain a lot.”
“I just can’t figure out what would be on it,” she said.
Mark scratched his head. “Any number of things, I would guess. It could be business related, you know, corporate espionage.”
Cindy shook her head. “Derek was Joseph’s personal assistant. Joseph has very little to do with the daily business of his companies, and he has people at his work who handle those details. Derek handled Joseph’s private affairs.”
“Maybe it was his bank account numbers,” Mark suggested.
Cindy hesitated. “That would make more sense.”
“But?”
“But why wait six months for that when he probably had that information within one or two? And if he wanted to take the information overseas, Joseph and the dogs have been to several shows in that time period. No, unless he was waiting for a particular country or event, that doesn’t click.”
“Okay, so what would have happened recently that would have been worth stealing?”
Cindy slipped a deck of cards out of her purse and began shuffling them one-handed. It was a neat trick, and Mark watched her as she thought. “Derek worked with Joseph on his personal finances and his day-to-day activities.”
“Which includes dog showing and what else?”
“Charity work.”
She stopped shuffling and looked him in the eye. “The charity event Friday: a lot of people donated money for that. Some were organizations, and some were individuals—a few of them very wealthy.”
“And Derek would have had access to their information,” Mark said. Something the director of the shelter had said earlier came back to him. She had been grateful they didn’t keep financial records on the computer because her sister had been a victim of identity theft.
“Identity theft. They were going to steal the identities of a few ultra-rich people,” Mark realized. “Not only could they access bank and credit accounts, but they could also make millions opening fraudulent credit accounts.”
Cindy’s eyes grew wide. “That would make sense. They could steal more money from a dozen than from Joseph. It would make the diamond collar pale in comparison.”
“And the diamond collar would be hard to sell, whereas they could take their information out of the country, and then hit one after another without getting caught and make a fortune.”
“That has to be it!” Cindy said.
“It would make sense, but the only way we’re going to know for sure is if we find the chip. If he was still stealing dogs today, then he can’t have found it yet.”
“Even if you find the right dog before he does, how will you know without the laptop?”
“I know a couple of tech guys,” Mark said. “I’ll get them on it. Then I’ll track down the rest of the dogs who haven’t been stolen.”
“Do you need any help?”
He blinked and looked at her. Her eyes were bright, her face was flushed, and she was ready to throw herself in harm’s way. It was a far cry from the terrified, mousy little secretary he had met a few months before.
“No, this is a job for the police.” He jumped to his feet. “Miss Preston, thank you. Call me if you think of anything else.”
Even though she was relieved to have been able to speak to Mark, Cindy returned home sick at heart. She prayed for his wife and that she would be found safe and sound. She couldn’t imagine the nightmare he was living, and she was amazed that he was able to function through it. He was an incredible man.
As she finally made it home and parked in her driveway, fear rippled through her. The house was dark, and shadows played around it. She couldn’t help but think of Mark’s wife, kidnapped from her own home, and in broad daylight. Cindy was angry at herself as she sat in the car and the fear played upon her mind. She should have left a light on in the house, or at least on the porch. She never liked coming home to a dark house, but now the shadows on the porch seemed more ominous than ever.
Did one of the shadows just move to the right of the door? Her heart pounded. Relax, no one’s on your front porch. She breathed a momentary sigh of relief until she realized that if someone was waiting for her, they were probably already inside.
But wouldn’t the dogs be barking if someone was inside? Not if they’re hiding like Buff did earlier. Not if they’re hurt or—
She shook her head violently, trying to dislodge the dark thoughts that threatened to render her powerless and too frightened to move. She might be frightened, but she was not powerless. And she would move even if she were, because she had to, because to give in to fear would mean running for the rest of her life, and she was so tired of being afraid all the time.
The last few months she had been able to lull herself into believing that she was doing better, but it was all a lie. She was jumping at shadows, just as she used to, imagining all kinds of things that just weren’t possible and others that, though possible, were extremely unlikely.
She wanted so badly to call Jeremiah. She knew he would come over and inspect her place, walk inside with her and keep her safe from anything dangerous that lurked within. But she couldn’t. Jeremiah wouldn’t always be there, and then how would Cindy face the dark and the monsters without him if she grew dependent on facing them with him?
She forced herself out of her car and up onto her porch. Shadows seemed to mock her, shifting slightly as though to make way for her passage. She put her key to the lock and heard something move just on the other side of the door.
With a gasp she spun and ran back to her car before remembering that Buff and Clarice were inside, and it was almost certainly them that she had heard. She squared her shoulders and approached the door again.
Once more the shadows seemed to leer and mock her. She slid the key into the lock, turned, pushed through the door as she opened it, and slammed and locked it behind her.
As she reached for the light switch, a wet tongue licked her ankle, and she screamed, even though she knew it was one of the dogs. The lights came on, and Clarice stared at her with a baffled look while Buff ran from the room.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she told the poodle as she reached down to give her head a quick pat.
She flipped on the outside lights, knowing she would have to take both dogs for a walk before she could barricade herself in her house for the rest of the night. She clipped the leash on Clarice’s collar and cautiously eased the door open.
There was no one in sight, and she walked out a few steps, hovering on the porch and forcing Clarice t
o relieve herself next to the path. As soon as the dog had, Cindy backtracked into the house and slammed the door again.
Buff had reentered the living room, clearly curious about what was going on. She showed him the leash, and he bounded over to her. She repeated the same thing with him.
When she was back inside the house for the third and final time, she threw all of her deadbolts before realizing she hadn’t checked the back rooms for any sign of intruders.
Surely the dogs would be acting strangely if there was an intruder, but she couldn’t be too careful. Cell phone in hand and at the ready, she walked toward the back of her house, flipping on every light switch she passed.
She checked her bathroom, bedroom, and office and was relieved to find them just as she had left them. Satisfied that they were as safe as they were going to be, Cindy hurriedly got ready for bed.
When she finally slipped between the sheets, she found that her mind was racing a million miles an hour and her heart was still pounding like a jackhammer. She flipped on her side and prayed for sleep, but it seemed elusive.
“God, please let me sleep. I thank You for Your protection. Amen.”
It wasn’t poetry as prayers went, but it was honest and forthright. They were two qualities she admired, and she believed God must admire them as well. After a minute she felt something jump on her bed and then a second.
She looked up and saw Clarice curling up in a ball by her feet. Buff snuggled into her hip with a contented sigh and gave no signs that he planned to move again, ever.
With a smile on her face, Cindy drifted off to sleep.
Her dreams were plagued by dark creatures that mocked her, laughed at her and whispered the vilest lies she had ever heard. She tossed and turned for a couple of hours, waking every so often to look at her clock.
When Black Friday finally came, Cindy was up before the dawn. She fed and walked the dogs and then got in her car and drove to the drugstore. She ended up joining a line of shoppers waiting to get in. She’d had no idea that even the drugstore was offering holiday bargains. She heard rumors going up and down the line that toys were 40 percent off and Christmas decorations were 50 percent off. The excitement was electric, and Cindy couldn’t help but feel it.
When the doors ceremonially opened, she bolted for the toiletries section. Her eyes scanned the shelves as she looked for Old Spice deodorant. In dismay she finally saw the shelf where it should have been and realized it was sold out. She checked the body wash and cologne sections as well, with no better luck. She growled deep in her throat and fought back tears. She had to know who she was looking for if she was going to put a stop to the killings.
“What’s wrong, sugar?” a large, blonde woman wearing a nametag asked her. “You need help finding something?”
“I was looking for Old Spice. You don’t have any in the storeroom, do you?” she asked hopefully.
“Everything is on the shelves today if we have it,” she said. “I’m sorry. We should get some more in early next week.”
“But that will be too late.”
“Then don’t tell anyone I said so,” the woman said, lowering her voice, “but you might want to get yourself over to Plusmart.”
“Thank you.”
Cindy turned and rushed from the store. Ten minutes later she was circling the Plusmart parking lot, desperately looking for a parking spot. Several opened up only to be taken by others circling the lot as well. She couldn’t help but think that they all must resemble a pack of vultures, waiting to fall upon prey.
Finally she found one within sight of the recycling bins, and she couldn’t help but shiver as she thought of Harry.
She rushed into the store, and was no sooner inside than she hit a wall of people. She heard people shouting and screeching around her, calling for friends and loved ones or shouting angrily at others who had hold of what they desired. It was chaos, and Cindy felt fear clutch at her heart as the crowd pushed her forward. She fought her way toward the correct section and finally made it into the shaving aisle.
There she found the Old Spice deodorant, and she pulled off the top and inhaled deeply. She waited a moment, but nothing came to her. Frustrated, she put the lid back on and continued to move. She finally found the body wash and tried it. Still no memories stirred. At last she found the cologne, but it was in a glass cabinet. She fought her way toward the pharmacy, looking for a Plusmart employee who could help her. She finally found one who was already besieged by half a dozen others.
She waited patiently, dogging the employee’s steps as he helped first one and then another. Finally it was her turn.
“I need to see the Old Spice cologne, which is locked in a case,” she said.
He nodded and waded back in that direction with her following. When he reached the case, she held her breath as he opened it. “I need to smell it,” she said.
He handed her the tester bottle, and she sprayed the air and then inhaled. She knew she had smelled it before, but she didn’t know where.
“Miss? Miss?”
“Yes?” she asked, opening her eyes again.
“You want it or not?”
“I’ll take a small bottle,” she said.
He handed her a bottle, and she made her way to the front of the store. Every cash register was open and had a line ten people long. She chose the ten items or less line, hoping that it would at least move fast.
As it turned out, she had chosen poorly. The first person in line had an item without a price tag. The fourth person paid a forty-dollar bill entirely in coins. Cindy looked around, but the other lines had grown even longer at that point, and she was afraid to switch.
Finally it was her turn, and she barely waited for her change before dashing out to the parking lot with her purchase. As soon as she exited the parking lot, she called Jeremiah’s home number.
“Hello?” he asked, sounding worse than the night before.
“I am so sorry to wake you,” she said. “But you know how you were telling me you could teach me to calm down and focus?”
“Cindy, is that you?” he asked.
“Yes, sorry, it’s Cindy. Do you remember telling me that about the focusing exercises?”
“Yes. I can help with that.”
“I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t really important, but I need you to teach me how to do that now.”
“What’s happened?” he asked, sounding more alert.
“I recognize the smell of the Old Spice cologne, but I can’t remember where it is I’ve smelled it before. I bought a bottle and I have it with me. I just need to be able to calm down and focus so that I can figure it out. If I can do that, then I’m sure we can stop the killer.”
“I understand.”
“Can I come over to your place?”
“Now?”
“Yes. The sooner I can remember, the sooner we can put an end to this.” She took a deep breath. “I didn’t want to wake you up again last night, but the killer has kidnapped Mark’s wife.”
“When?” Jeremiah asked, his voice suddenly hard.
“Yesterday sometime. He took their dog too. He was one of the ones that wasn’t adopted on Friday. Mark adopted him Sunday. So, please, I need to come over.”
Jeremiah coughed long and hard. “Tell you what, I’ll meet you at your house,” he offered.
“Awesome. Thank you so much.”
“I’ll be there just as soon as I can.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
She hung up and considered calling Mark but rejected it since she really had nothing new to tell him. Once she could remember who it was that wore Old Spice, then she would have something to call him over.
A few minutes later she made it home. She deposited the bottle of Old Spice on her kitchen counter before taking both dogs for a quick walk. Finished, she went into the bathroom to wash her hands and face.
“Just calm down,” she told her reflection. “You can do this. You just have to remember one little thing. It shouldn’t eve
n be that hard. Odors are great memory triggers; you just have to let this one do its job.”
Be still and know that I am God.
She took a deep breath and went into the living room. She sat down on the couch to wait for Jeremiah. Both dogs curled up at her feet.
Be still and know that I am God.
She bowed her head and began to pray.
When Jeremiah finally arrived, she was much calmer but seemingly no closer to remembering what she had to. She handed him the bottle of cologne and gave him a frustrated look.
“Still no luck?” he asked.
“None.”
“Okay, let’s go sit down,” he said.
She returned to her seat on the couch and folded her hands in her lap. She felt nervous and a little silly for feeling that way and for asking for help to focus. It should be something she could do naturally.
“Please, help me.”
“I will,” Jeremiah promised. “But you have to listen to me.”
“Okay.”
“You need to learn how to calm down and focus. Now, close your eyes and just concentrate on your breathing. Now, slowly, breathe in. Hold it for a count of ten. Then, just as slowly, breathe out. Keep doing that until I tell you to stop.”
She did as instructed and was surprised how hard it was to keep her thoughts focused on breathing and not scattering to the four corners of the wind. Gradually it grew easier, but she still struggled.
“Okay. On to the next thing. Keep your eyes closed. When you were a child, did you ever get a puppy or a kitten?”
“Yes, when I was very little, we got a puppy.”
“What did he do when it was time for bed the first night?”
“He cried.”
“He missed his mother?”
“Yes.”
“What did you do?”
“The second night my mother put a clock inside a blanket and let him sleep with that.”
“Did it calm him down?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Why?”
“Mom said it replicated his mother’s heartbeat.”
“Exactly. Now, feel your own pulse.”
Cindy pressed her fingers against her throat.
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