“And the patrol officer was outside?”
“Jenkins? Yes,” he huffed. “He’s a good kid.”
“He knew when to come.” She crossed her arms. “It’s no coincidence he came when Jenkins was on a break.”
“He’s probably been watching Katy,” he agreed.
Katy might have been feeling sick these past few days, but she was an active, adult woman. It would have taken a considerable amount of strength to abduct her from her house in such an aggressive manner. The abductor was likely to be a man, based on the method and statistics. Mackenzie imagined a woman would have lured Katy somehow, been more strategic.
Mackenzie’s insides curdled. First Kim and the doppelganger, and now Katy. Would Katy be dead soon too?
“What’s behind the house?” She headed to the door, careful not to touch anything or step on the glass. Peering through the broken window in the door, she saw a frozen creek and woods draped in snow on the other side. “Where do these woods lead to?”
“They’re shallow on this side and run a little deep if you head west from here.”
“To the highway, right?”
“Yes.” Justin frowned. “Directly to Olympia.”
“Call the department of transportation and see if we can get anything from the traffic lights. Did the dispatch center enter her information into NCIC?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She imagined how it played out. The back door rattled loudly. He must have checked to see if it was open. When it wasn’t, he smashed his elbow through the window of the door, snaked his arm inside and twisted the knob. The action would have made a loud sound. Did that wake Katy up? Was she already awake? She came running down the stairs, wondering where the noise was coming from. She saw him and screamed. He tried chasing her around the living room. The chair fell. The table moved. Finally, he grabbed her. She struggled in his arms. But he was stronger. The plate came crashing down from the counter as he took her out the way he got in, leaving the door slightly ajar.
Mackenzie looked over at one of the crime scene investigators dusting for prints.
If the killer had planned to take Katy when he knew the patrol officer would be on a break, then he would likely have been careful enough to wear gloves.
“Mack,” Nick came back inside and edged past the moving bodies. “Delilah Pine reported she heard shouting and furniture toppling.”
“She didn’t call 911?”
“She thought that Cole returned early from his run and they had got into a fight. It wasn’t until the cops showed up that she realized Katy was missing.”
A few hours later, Mackenzie and Nick were going over Jenkins’ initial contact report. Justin had prepared a briefing too, including statements from all the witnesses. Patrol had ventured into the woods, hoping to find a clue left behind. No car could be brought into the woods. The only plausible explanation was that the man took one of the exits off the highway, left his car there and then embarked into the woods on foot. Unfortunately, the freshly falling snow obscured any footprints.
The positioning of the houses made it such that the only person who would have had a clear view of the backyard would be Delilah. But she hadn’t seen anything. And neither had any other neighbor.
“Have we sent out her description?” Rivera asked. Her nose was buried deep in one of the reports.
Mackenzie and Nick confirmed they had. Cole had verified that Katy was dressed in gray pajamas and a white T-shirt. She was wearing no accessories.
“Cole said her phone’s missing,” Mackenzie said.
Rivera looked up. Her glasses rested on the bridge of her thick nose. “If there was a struggle, then when did he find the time to take her phone?”
“It must be on her,” Sully grumbled from her side. “She heard the noise and grabbed her phone to dial 911.”
“Or her phone has something on it. When will you get the records from the phone company?”
“Waiting for a judge to sign the warrant,” Nick said. “But we’re tracking her phone. It was last active in the house at eight this morning. If it’s turned on for long enough, we’ll find out where it is.”
“Let’s hope he doesn’t destroy the phone,” Rivera said. “Make sure the crime scene investigators go through that house with a fine-toothed comb. If there was a struggle, there could be some DNA. Hair strands or blood.”
Sully sighed, exasperated. “Can anyone confirm Cole’s alibi?”
“Not yet,” Nick admitted. “You think he’s behind this?”
He raised his eyebrows. “He’s been fighting with his wife. Has a temper. Probably having an affair.”
“What, you think he knew about the twin? Killed her and the other one?”
“Not necessarily. He might not have killed the others, but maybe he saw them as a way of getting rid of Katy.”
“We should get his phone records too,” Mackenzie said.
“If Cole wanted to get rid of his wife, then this has been one hell of a setup.” Nick ran a hand through his hair. “And how do Carrie and the suicide victim factor in? If they do at all.”
“I think the murders are related to the twin,” Sully said. “God knows what life she led before finding her way here.”
Rivera closed the file and removed her glasses. She glared at Mackenzie and Nick with piercing eyes. “Regardless of Cole’s involvement, we can all agree that there’s something very disturbing about this case. We have a dead twin, an arbitrary old suicide, not to mention an unidentified body in our morgue with mysterious tattoos. Katy has been abducted and going by what we know, there’s a high chance she’ll be dead soon, if not already. We have our work cut out for us.”
Twenty-Five
“Am I in an alternate universe?” Troy left a dramatic pause.
“What?”
His mocking eyes slid over Mackenzie. She looked down and almost swallowed her tongue. She was dressed in her running gear. Her red hair was frizzy and jutting out in every direction. She touched her face, realizing that she hadn’t done her makeup.
“Don’t look so devastated, Mad Mack,” Troy smiled. “You don’t look scary today.”
She knew he meant it as a compliment, which is why she flashed him a tight smile. But inside, a harrowing feeling brewed. Her armor was chipped. It felt like just a matter of time until it came crashing down completely.
She turned to see Nick with a pack of cigarettes in his hand and a grimace marring his face. He stared at the pack for ticking seconds, contemplating giving in to the poisonous habit. She could have nagged him, but she didn’t. His eyebrows stitched together in a knot. With that, he tossed the pack in the trash can.
Mackenzie’s phone pinged with a message from Justin.
Checked with all the tattoo parlors. Nothing.
“Justin couldn’t find the tattoo parlor,” she sighed.
“She could’ve gotten it outside of Lakemore.” Nick picked up his steaming coffee mug and pressed it against his head.
“I’m going to get a head start on the posters for Katy,” she said, preparing to send a request to the Washington State Patrol Missing and Unidentified Persons Unit.
Nick checked his phone. “I’ll talk to patrol and go over their plan.”
Mackenzie nodded. Suddenly the door to their office opened, and a uniformed cop walked in, followed by Charlotte Harris.
“Detectives, she really wanted to see you.”
“Thanks, Jerry.”
Charlotte chewed on her dry lips. Her striking face seemed to have aged a decade since the last time Mackenzie had seen her.
“You go ahead, Nick. I’ll touch base with you later.”
“Detective Price,” Charlotte’s voice was breathy. “Cole told us what happened.”
“Yes… I’m sorry, Charlotte. Can you think of anyone who wanted to hurt Katy?”
A sob sputtered out of her throat, and she clasped her mouth to muffle it. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “N-no. She’s so good. Sh-she has dedicated her life to helping others
.”
Mackenzie raised a hand to comfort her, but dropped it to her side. “Could I get you some water?”
“No! No!” Charlotte sniffed and set her face straight. “I want you to bring back my daughter.”
“Charlotte, when was the last time you talked with Katy?”
“I called her yesterday evening. I’d wanted to take her to church in the morning. She’s been so stressed with everything. I thought it would help her. But she’d declined by text, so I called instead.”
“And how did she sound?”
“Fine. Just tired and sleepy.”
“And the last time you met her?”
“I… I think more than a week ago.”
“What about Cole?” she asked deliberately.
Charlotte narrowed her eyes. “Do you think Cole has something to do with this? He’s broken.”
“I’m sorry, Charlotte, but his behavior has been unusual.”
She looked cynical. “Really? I… I don’t know what to believe. He seems fine to me.”
“Where’s Frank?”
“At home. He’s been ringing our friends. Maybe someone knows something. Do you think this could be related to Kim?” Charlotte asked warily.
“Why would you say that?”
She looked irritated. “I don’t know what kind of things Kim could have gotten involved in.”
“We’ll look into everything. Meanwhile, if anything happens or you think of something, please contact us.”
“Please find her. She’s my everything.”
Twenty-Six
November 28
There was no news of Katy Becker. It had been two days. The Washington State Patrol was on it. She was all over the local news, posters had been strung up around the city. They had also approached the Sheriff’s Office, asking for assistance in searching the woods—especially with Woodburn Park still being on the list of places to search. The Sheriff’s Office often collaborated with the Lakemore PD, especially with missing persons, as they knew the woods well. But it wasn’t in Mackenzie’s control how much help they could offer. They were stretched thin too because of budget issues and the FBI investigation.
Yesterday the storm had subsided, allowing more manpower to venture into the woods, but they had found nothing. Jenna had confirmed that no hospitals in Tacoma or Olympia claimed to recognize Jane Doe Two or the work done to her face. The doctor could be anywhere in Washington, or maybe even out of state. Mackenzie and Nick were hoping to track their culprit through him. But that approach was proving to be fruitless.
Jane Doe Two’s identity and the old suicide loomed like bad omens over the case. Mackenzie was just heading home after a frustrating day’s work when her phone rang.
“Nick? What’s up?”
“Crime scene investigators found a man’s footprints in the backyard. They were under an overhang so weren’t covered by snow.”
“That’s good! Maybe the crime lab can get something out of it. I went over the cameras from the department of transportation. The nearest exit to the Beckers’ has a car wash and a Wendy’s. But no camera covers the entire area.”
“So nothing?”
“Nada,” she said. “This guy’s too smart. Only one pair of footprints?”
“Yep. My two cents? He used chloroform on her and carried her. Stuffed her in the trunk and drove off.”
“That way no one would hear her scream for help,” Mackenzie said. “What about the footprint? Any specification?”
“It was too faint.”
Her phone pinged with a notification. “Oh, they sent us Katy and Cole’s phone records.”
“Yeah, I just got them too.”
“I’ll go over Cole’s. You go over Katy’s.”
“Yeah. Also, remember that conference Cole returned early from that weekend?”
Mackenzie recalled Katy’s statement that Cole had left for Seattle on the Friday before the bodies were found, but came back Saturday, claiming that the conference wasn’t worth his time. “What about it?”
“I was just following a hunch. There was a conference for physiotherapists in Seattle that weekend. I called them and Cole never even registered for it, let alone attended.”
Mackenzie bit the inside of her cheek. “Where did he go, then?”
“He’s definitely hiding something. Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Sterling couldn’t make dinner that night, so it was just Mackenzie and her father.
“What do you say to takeout?” said Robert. “My treat.”
“Sure. Thanks.” She still didn’t trust him, but she appreciated the gesture, especially if it meant she didn’t need to cook.
Later, they watched a sitcom, munching on pizza. To anyone else, they would probably have looked like a normal family. Except that Mackenzie sat at the opposite end of the couch, curled up in a ball. Occasionally, her father snickered good-naturedly. The sound was familiar. She knew him in her bones; he had created her. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was a stranger in her house.
Mackenzie got up abruptly.
“I’ve got some cleaning to do,” she said, and headed to the kitchen.
The lemony scent of her homemade disinfectant solution trickled up her nose, comforting her. Through the window, she watched her father go into the garden and stand there. He looked up at the twilight sky—swirls of pink against a dusky purple slowly dimming into velvety darkness.
Later that night, the wind howled like an angry ghost haunting the streets of Lakemore. Mackenzie lay awake in her bed, staring at the crown molding. Shadows danced across the ceiling from the window. She focused on the shadow of the tree swaying and bending at unnatural angles. Like it would snap anytime. It was a tree, not a branch. But the winds were strong. The leafy tree had been reduced to barrenness after the fall. It looked dead, but still it moved wildly.
Mackenzie clutched the edge of the blanket, disturbed by the image and the wind. She had locked her door from the inside but still didn’t feel safe. She tried everything to fall asleep—counted sheep, lit a scented candle, even listened to soothing music. But two hours later, she was wide awake. Her brain was buzzing even though she couldn’t focus on anything concrete.
She looked to Sterling’s side of the bed and swallowed hard.
It was two in the morning.
She dragged her feet to the bathroom to take another shower. Spending the entire day crammed in the office reviewing the security cameras around Sheppard Hallows had left her grimy, with sore muscles.
She reckoned feeling clean would soothe her jangled nerves. After the shower, she wiped the steamed-up mirror and studied her reflection.
She looked so exhausted.
You have to help me bury him. Melody’s voice hissed in her ears. Everything that had happened came crashing into her like a wave. She might not have bashed that man’s skull in like Melody did, but she had denied him dignity and justice.
Was it even in self-defense, like Melody had claimed?
Mackenzie’s breathing came loud and strong. She gripped the sink hard enough to leave grooves on her skin.
She looked up, expecting to find her pallid reflection, but for a moment saw her mother instead. They looked so similar. She hated it.
Her hand curled into a fist, and she punched the mirror.
Twenty-Seven
November 29
The phone company had sent Cole’s records for the last month. Fortunately for them, the provider saved text messages for a month before deleting them, giving Mackenzie and Nick full access to his communication.
Delilah said that Cole went somewhere on Thursday and Saturday nights. Mackenzie spent the next hour going through call logs and text messages. There was one number that showed up more frequently—and it didn’t belong to Katy or his office. Cole called that number during his lunch hour and after work. She highlighted the entries. Their conversations would last from one minute to thirty minutes. They could call the company for the customer data.
> She clicked on the transcripts of his text messages and searched for messages exchanged with the mysterious number. There were very few messages compared to the phone calls.
If Cole were hiding an affair, then it would make sense not to text much. She combed through the texts, looking for a clue. But most of them were too general to provide any information on their relationship or the identity of the person.
Call you back.
See you later.
Good luck.
Did you check it out?
No.
Me too.
But then she found one text from Cole.
Not now, Ana.
The critical seventy-two-hour window had passed, and there was no news of Katy Becker.
“I don’t know what Lakemore’s true enemy is—crime or the weather.” Nick entered the conference room chucking off his coat, which was dusted with snow.
Jenna spread a map of Woodburn Park on the table. “I’ll need more time tracking all the owners of these properties. The records haven’t been well maintained. There are also illegal constructions deeper into the woods, slightly further from the trail.”
“Like what?” Nick asked.
“Sheds and small lodges. The woods are vast and dense. Hard to regulate. It might take weeks to cover the area, especially if we keep getting blizzards every second day.”
The patrol had been focused on the trail, trying to decipher where the bodies were dumped from, looking for a clue that might have been left behind. But if they had to expand deeper into the woods, which were usually inaccessible and difficult to navigate, a thorough search would take months.
“There was nothing in Katy’s call and text logs,” Nick said, filling a cup with coffee from the espresso machine. “In fact, she hasn’t been that active at all in the last couple weeks. Coffee?”
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