Obsession

by Patricia Bradley

  Lane agreed. “I discussed this with my psychologist brother-in-law last night, and he said most people with this psychological disease are harmless, but not all. If there was an early childhood trauma, especially involving the man’s mother, he could have developed that ‘savior’ complex involving the woman that he perceived was in love with him.”

  Emma propped her elbow on the table and rubbed her forehead. It was so hard to believe she could be the object of some man’s obsession. She looked up and glanced at each man. “If some man believes I’m in love with him, wouldn’t I know it?”

  “I wish my brother-in-law were here. He could explain it better than me,” Lane said. “Let’s say a woman is being stalked by someone with erotomania. She has no idea the erotomaniac has feelings for her. He has delusions that she loves him, and that whoever is keeping her from him is a threat. He can even think she’s sending him coded messages through social media.” He paused and turned to Sam. “If you’re dealing with an erotomaniac, both of you really need to be careful.”

  “You agree with me that I was the target Friday night?” Sam asked.

  Both men nodded, and the thought made Emma sick. “Do the three of you agree that we now have three, maybe four people to interview—Trey, Gordon, Sheriff Carter, and maybe Corey?”

  Sam frowned. “I agree those are people of interest for me to interview.”

  “I agree,” Lane said. “You’re a civilian and don’t need to be involved.”

  “And be sure to take every precaution to keep yourself safe,” Marsh chimed in.

  “But it was my brother who was killed, and I was the one shot at. You’re not locking me out.”

  “Emma,” Sam said softly. “What if this man learned you’re working with me to try to put him in jail? He could very well turn on you and decide if he can’t have you, no one can. I don’t plan to tell your parents they’ve lost another child.”

  She hugged her arms to her waist. Her life was spiraling out of control, and there wasn’t one thing she could do about it. “You’ll keep me informed about what’s going on, right?”

  Her face grew hot under Sam’s probing eyes. “Yes, but I want you to promise not to go anywhere alone and that you’ll keep your door locked at all times.”

  “I’m already doing that. But how about you? He tried to kill you.”

  “Don’t worry about me, I can take care of myself.”

  Sam’s smile fell short of reassuring her. If they were right that the cases were connected, this man had already killed six people and wounded two others. She caught her breath. “I wonder how Mr. Selby and his daughter are?”

  “Last I heard, they were still critical,” Sam said.

  “Could you call about them?” Emma desperately wanted them to survive the attack. And just as desperately she wanted to catch the man responsible.

  Sam unhooked his cell phone from his belt and called the hospital. After he spoke a few words to someone, he said, “Thanks. If there’s any change, could you let me know?” Then he turned to the others. “The daughter seems to be improving, but Mr. Selby is still critical.”

  Emma pressed her lips together and stared at her white knuckles as she gripped the table edge with her good hand. “We have to catch this man before he harms someone else,” she said and raised her head. “If he wants me so badly, maybe we could use me as bait. Set up a scenario—”

  “No!” Sam thundered. “You are not getting anywhere near this psycho.”

  “He’s right,” Lane said. “You could get hurt . . . or worse.”

  “But I can’t live like this.”

  “We’ll catch him,” Sam promised. He turned to Marsh. “Send me a list of people you think I need to interview in Oxford.” Then he turned to Lane. “I assume there’s a list in the report you gave me, but is there anyone I can talk to while we’re in Jackson?”

  The Hinds County investigator glanced over his papers. “There’s one. The victim’s sister lives just off Highway 18. I’ll give her a call and tell her to expect you . . . in what, the next hour?”

  “That’ll work.”

  Emma gathered her papers. Since Sam couldn’t drop her off anywhere, at least she’d get to sit in on this interview.

  63

  With his other problem taken care of, he’d been free to follow Ryker and Emma from Natchez to the Hinds County Sheriff’s Department, his frustration and anger growing with each mile. Ryker was forcing Emma to go with him, but the ranger would soon be out of the picture. If only he’d had some way of recording the meeting with the investigator.

  Not to worry, though. Emma would fill him in. She looked out for him that way. Just last night when he looked at her Facebook posts, he saw her coded message to him, telling him to be careful, that Ryker would stop at nothing to get rid of him. Her last post had been worded to let him know she was deeply in love with him.

  His breath stilled as Emma and the ranger exited the sheriff’s department. He fell in behind them, keeping at least two cars back. When they reached the Natchez Trace, it would be harder to stay invisible. His anxiety grew when Ryker exited off I-20 onto Highway 18. Where is he going?

  Raymond. His mouth dried. Kimberly Fisher’s sister lived in Raymond. Relax. The sister knew nothing. He’d be okay.

  Emma.

  It was time. He would go ahead to Natchez and wait for her.

  64

  Sam turned off Highway 18 onto the county road where Kimberly Fisher’s sister lived. He turned to Emma, who had been quiet after they left the Hinds County Sheriff’s Department. “I hope you’re not upset with me.”

  She sighed. “I’m not happy, but I don’t want to be a liability. You are going to allow me to go in with you?”

  He didn’t want to leave her in the SUV, not after telling her she was in danger. “Yeah. Just this last time.”

  The GPS announced they’d arrived at their destination, and Sam parked behind a small sedan. The door to the brick, ranch-style house opened, and a woman who appeared to be in her forties stepped out onto the small porch. He grabbed the file Detective Lane had given him and climbed out of the SUV. Emma met him in the front yard, and they walked to the house together.

  “Ranger Sam Ryker?” the woman asked.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said. “And I assume you’re Paula Johnston, Kimberly Fisher’s sister?”

  “Yes.” She gave Emma a quizzical glance.

  Sam introduced Emma. “We believe whoever murdered your sister killed Emma’s brother.”

  Sympathy flooded Paula’s face. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Winters.”

  “Call me Emma, please,” she said. “And thank you. I still have trouble believing he’s gone.”

  “Won’t you come in?” They followed her inside, and she invited them to sit. “It’s been four years, and sometimes, like Emma, I still find it hard to believe. How can I help you?”

  “What can you remember about the men your sister dated?”

  “That’s just it—she didn’t date anyone except Adam—that’s the man who was killed—although I tried to get her to go out with other men. He was terrible to her. I still don’t understand her fascination with him.”

  “Your statement in the report indicated Kimberly received daisies a few days before she died and then there was a bouquet at the funeral,” Emma said. “Do you know who sent them?”

  “We never learned who sent them. And they didn’t come from any florists around here. Detective Lane checked all the florist shops in the area, and the few orders for bouquets of daisies weren’t gerberas, the flowers Kimberly received.”

  Emma glanced at Sam. “Maybe this person grows his own.”

  He hadn’t considered that. “How about friends? Was your sister close to anyone other than family?”

  “Hardly. Adam had practically isolated Kimberly. If she’d ever married him, I probably would have completely lost touch with her.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Although there was this one person . . . he stopped by her desk sometimes
, and I assumed he worked in the same building as Kimberly, but Detective Lane couldn’t pinpoint who he was.”

  Sam flipped through the file Lane had given him. “Did she ever mention his name?”

  “If she did, I don’t remember.” Paula stared down at her hands and the ring that she twisted. “You have to understand, our relationship was strained. Adam didn’t like me because I tried to get Kimberly to break it off with him. The only time she ever called was when she kicked him out.”

  “It would really help if you could remember.”

  She raised her head, pain showing in her eyes. “I have mentally gone over every conversation I can remember. What I’ve told Detective Lane and you are things I’ve pulled out, but . . . her calls were always about Adam, and I sort of tuned her out after a bit.”

  “There was no one she was close to at her job?” Emma asked.

  “No. Adam saw to that. Kimberly had a great job at the billing company. Management was really pleased with her work, wanted to move her up in the company. Just before she was murdered, they had moved her over to their offices in the medical center. She was so smart, there is no telling how far she could have gone.” Paula shook her head. “Too bad her judgment in men wasn’t better.”

  Sam shifted his attention to Emma. “Didn’t you tell me Gordon was on staff at the medical center before he returned to Natchez?”

  “Yeah. He’s been back in Natchez a little over a year,” she said.

  He turned to Paula. “Is it possible the man who advised her to leave Adam was a doctor?”

  She thought a minute. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t remember. It’s been over four years, and I never met the man.”

  “Do you recognize the name Gordon Cole?”

  Paula frowned as she repeated the name. “It’s somewhat familiar, but I’d hate to say yes and be wrong.”

  Sam understood. “What can you tell me about the notes your sister received with the drawings on them?”

  “Not a lot.”

  “Do you know when she received them?” Sam asked.

  “I found them after she died and figured they were threats from Adam.”

  Sam checked his watch. It was a little after one. If he was going to pick up Jace for his soccer game, they needed to leave. “Thank you for your help.” He handed her a business card with his cell number on it. “If you think of anything or remember the name of the man who befriended Kimberly, give me a call.”

  As they hurried to his SUV, Sam turned up the collar of his jacket against the north wind. It had turned much colder while they were in the house, and like Jenny said it would, the rain had ended. As they pulled out of the drive, Emma said, “I can’t believe we’re considering Trey or Gordon as murderers. There has to be someone else.”

  Sam wasn’t so sure. Emma hadn’t seen the sordid underbelly of society like he had. “Did you recognize the handwriting on the cards?”

  “They were printed, and while they look the same, it would be hard to know for sure. Maybe a handwriting expert could tell.”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “It’s harder to analyze a hand-printed document because many of the distinguishing features that are in a cursive text aren’t there.” Sam tapped the steering wheel. “Let’s figure this out. We know Gordon and Trey were in Natchez when Mary Jo was killed. How would we find out where Corey Chandler was?”

  Emma was quiet a minute. “Wait—Mom said Corey interned for Wendall Peterson’s law office at some point. Maybe it was then.”

  “How can we find out?”

  “I doubt Mom will remember the year, but I know Wendall Peterson’s administrative assistant. I have her number in my contacts. Melanie didn’t stay on when Corey took over the office, but she’d been there forever. I’ll call and ask.” She checked her phone. “When I get reception.”

  “If Corey was in Natchez, that gives us three suspects for Mary Jo and Ryan’s deaths.”

  “What if h-he wasn’t killed the same night as Mary Jo?”

  The hitch in Emma’s voice caught his attention. This was hard for both of them. “You okay?”

  Her eyes were wet when she raised her head. “Yeah.”

  Sam nodded at her notes. “Is anything making sense to you?”

  “I see a pattern. Trey and Gordon were a year behind Ryan and me even though we were about the same age. Something about their birthdays made them start school late. For the murder that occurred in Oxford, they would have still been at Ole Miss.” She leaned against the seat. “And Corey too—probably in law school.”

  “How about the Fisher-Clark murders in Raymond? Which of our suspects were in Jackson?”

  She flipped through her notebook. “I made notes on that case too. Gordon was in Jackson at the medical center when Kimberly and Adam were killed. And according to my mom, Corey worked for a prestigious law firm there from his graduation from law school until three years ago when he relocated to Natchez. I’m not sure where their office is, but it could be by the medical center. Trey is the only one who probably wasn’t living in Jackson at the time of their deaths—he would have already completed his law enforcement training at the academy.”

  “He would’ve been two hours away . . . unless he was in Jackson doing additional training. I need to check that out.”

  “What are your plans from here?” Emma asked.

  He thought a minute. “Until I can put Corey in Natchez ten years ago, I think I’ll stick with interviewing Trey and Gordon, starting with Trey—find out if he was in Jackson when Kimberly was murdered. He fits the profile best.”

  “Why him?”

  “He has control issues—you said yourself he tried to change you and that’s why you broke it off with him.”

  “It’s just so hard to think of him that way,” she said. “After Trey, I assume you’ll talk to Gordy, I mean Gordon?”

  “Yes. I’ll save Corey for last. I may not even have to interview him.”

  She checked her phone again. “I have a couple of bars. Do you still want me to call Wendall Peterson’s administrative assistant?”

  “It won’t hurt. There’s a pullout just ahead. We’ll stop there.”

  Emma gave a small gasp. “I need to charge my phone. Do you have a charger?”

  “Should be one in the console. Oh, wait. I took it out. Do you want to use my phone?”

  “She won’t recognize your number. I think I have enough juice to call her.”

  At the pullout, Sam checked his phone. He had a call from Charlie Shaw. It must have come in while they were in a dead zone. He listened to the message while Emma scrolled to the administrative assistant’s number and called.

  “I’ll put it on speaker when she answers,” she said. But the call went to voicemail and Emma left a message detailing her reason for calling, telling her it was urgent that she talk to her. “Maybe she’ll call back soon,” Emma said as they pulled back onto the Trace.

  He nodded. “The owner of the Hideaway left me a message, but the background noise was so loud, I couldn’t understand him.” Sam called the number back, and it went straight to voicemail. “I’ll try again later and let you know what he says.”

  “You’re going to be busy with Jace and then going to see Trey. Want me to call him?”

  He hesitated. “If I don’t reach him before I drive to Trey’s cabin, you can. Nate says there’s no service out there. But I figure I’ll talk to him before that. I’ll let you know,” he said with a smile. The atmosphere inside the SUV was so different from earlier. “You’re a good one to brainstorm with.”

  “Anytime.”

  He hesitated, hating to ruin the mood. “I know you’re planning to go back to work at Mount Locust tomorrow, but is there any chance you could work at one of the other park locations so you’ll be around people?”

  “Because . . . ?”

  “We’re getting closer to discovering who the killer is, and it could get dicey. It’s just too dangerous for you to hang out at Mount Locust alone.”


  65

  Jace was the last kid in the car line when Sam pulled up to the school. Traffic had slowed them once they got to Natchez, and then he’d had Emma’s apartment to check out. “Sorry, bud,” he said when his nephew piled into the back seat.

  “We’re not late yet,” Jace said, grinning.

  The boy’s excitement squeezed his heart. He hoped Jace would be okay when Sam had to leave early, but for the next hour, he would stand in as a dad for his nephew—Jace would not be the kid without one.

  An hour later, Sam hugged his nephew. “Sorry I have to leave, but I have a case I’m working on.”

  “That’s important too,” Jace said. “You’re the best!”

  When some of the other dads had to leave as well, Sam didn’t feel quite as bad. “I’ll make it up to you.”

  Sam glanced in the rearview mirror as he drove away. Jace was still waving, and he turned his siren on for a second, knowing it would thrill the kid. A few minutes later, he texted Nate and asked if he still planned to go with him to interview Trey and received an affirmative. When he pulled into the sheriff’s department, Nate met him out front.

  “Have you heard from your chief deputy?” Sam asked.

  “No. I even tried to raise him last night when they put his dad in ICU.”

  “I’m surprised he doesn’t have his radio with him.”

  “When he goes to his cabin, it’s because he wants to get away from everything,” Nate said. “And no landline either since there’s not another house within five miles of the place. He doesn’t even have electricity, uses a generator.”

  Sam had never wanted to escape civilization that bad. “I guess if something was really important, someone would go and get him.”

  “Yeah. So far that hasn’t happened.” Nate tilted his head. “Do you really suspect him of killing Mary Jo and Ryan?”

  “He’s my best suspect.”

  As they drove, Sam asked if Nate had been able to interview either George Selby or his daughter.

  “Not yet. The father is in a drug-induced coma, and Mrs. Wyatt’s doctors have put a no-visitors order in place, but if she keeps improving, I hope to talk with her tomorrow.”