by Herron, Rita
“We have victim number ten.”
A tense second passed, then a sigh. “Carly?”
“No,” Gia said, relief pouring through her voice. Guilt followed for her selfishness. But Carly was her sister. “She’s still missing. He killed a young woman named Sari Benedict. She owns the local bakery.”
“You’re certain it’s him?”
“Yes. I’m sending you pics when we hang up.”
Brantley cursed. “I’m sorry, Gia. I wish I was there to help.”
“It’s fine. The sheriff is an asset. He also knows the area and his deputy has formed search parties. The blizzard is complicating the situation though.” She explained about the forensics she’d found.
“If the weather’s so harsh, how is the perp traveling around?”
“Good question. Murphy’s working on that angle. He’s outside now searching for footprints or tire marks. But with all the snow…”
She let the sentence trail off. No need to finish it. Brantley understood.
An indentation in the dough caught her eye, and she leaned closer to examine it. “Tell me you found something on that veterinarian.”
“As a matter of fact, I did,” her partner answered. “Whitman had a practice in Omaha. Married, no children. Last year he and his wife split right after Thanksgiving.”
“The timing could be right. He told the sheriff he was visiting family in Arkansas. Have you located him?”
“No. Found the family he was supposed to be visiting, his folks, but they claim they haven’t heard from him in a couple of days.”
“Did you check the airports and train stations?” Gia queried.
“I did, but with all the stranded passengers, assessing passenger manifests is a nightmare. I’ll keep digging though.”
Her heart began to pound. “Can you send me a photograph of him?”
“On its way.”
She took a close up shot of the cookie cutter and surrounding dough, then gently lifted the cookie cutter and examined it. Beneath the star shape the dough was indented slightly.
With a fingerprint.
Her heart hammered, and she lifted Sari’s hand and studied her long thin fingers, then compared them to the indentation. They were not a match.
Excitement shot through her. Maybe he’d finally messed up and they’d catch this madman after all.
Chapter Eighteen
11:00 a.m., December 19, Tinley
This killer was methodical. Nefarious. And cold. Murphy had to get inside his head and think that way as well.
He searched the front stoop and back deck of Sari’s house, looking for anything that might be helpful. But snow had blown across both, inches deep.
Sari was in full rigor, indicating it had been hours since she’d died. The killer had probably snuck in and strangled her sometime during the middle of the night. If so, why hadn’t there been a struggle? Nothing had been overturned in the bedroom or kitchen. Nothing broken. No signs of wet boot prints or even melted snow on the floor.
Which meant the killer had cleaned up after himself. Made certain to wipe the water away. Cover his footprints.
Murphy searched the trashcan in the garage for a cloth the man could have discarded but found nothing but a bag of trash. He opened it and checked inside, but it contained assorted trash accumulated on a normal daily basis. Used paper towels, an empty toilet paper roll, discarded pizza box, and leftover food that had gone bad.
A recycling bin held boxes and plastic containers from the kitchen. An empty egg carton. Plastic jug that had held milk. Empty bottle of dish soap.
He crossed the garage in search of a broom and found a wet spot near Sari’s car. Chest tight, he shined his flashlight along the cement floor and spotted scuffmarks beside the passenger side of the car.
Marks that could belong to Sari. Or the killer.
The killer probably wouldn’t have left them if they were his, but maybe he’d been in a hurry. Murphy stooped and photographed them anyway. Careful not to touch anything, he pointed his light on the door handle. Maybe a fingerprint there, although this man had most likely used gloves.
Murphy used gloved hands himself to open the door, then he aimed his flashlight inside the car.
The scent of apple and cinnamon assaulted him, along with cranberries, pumpkin and mincemeat. The pies on the front seat, the ones Sari was supposed to deliver to Bubba’s.
He mentally ran a scenario through his head of what had happened. Sari planned to deliver the goodies to Bubba’s for the search teams. Expecting the weather to worsen as the day progressed, she’d packed up the pies to deliver early morning.
She’d carried them out to the garage and put them in the car.
The killer had been lying in wait.
* * *
11:10 a.m., December 19, Tinley
Gia texted the pictures of the crime scene and the print in the dough to Brantley as soon as they disconnected.
As promised, he sent her a photo of the veterinarian along with his personal information. Parker Whitman was handsome in a GQ sort of way and looked as if he worked out regularly. Did he hone his muscles so he could overtake a woman?
She made a sound of disgust and continued analyzing him. Neatly clipped brown hair, well groomed, a killer smile that probably had women dumping their problems on them in his vet office—or offering to jump into his bed.
Had Carly been charmed by him?
She skimmed the background information. Whitman grew up in a middle-class neighborhood in Little Rock. Although details on him were minimal. Nothing so far about the parents or his upbringing which could play into his motivation. Married a woman two years ago, but it had gone downhill and she’d filed for divorce last November.
A month before Christmas.
That might prove important. But he didn’t travel around in his job as Murphy suggested, and there was nothing linking him to the three states in which the CK had chosen to kill.
She needed more information, something specific that pointed to him as the killer.
The sound of a car engine outside jerked her attention toward the front door. Five minutes later, Murphy appeared with the medical examiner.
“Special Agent Franklin, this is Dr. Nix.”
He offered his hand, but she held up her gloved hands indicating she’d been working. “Nice to meet you. Hate to drag you out in this mess.”
His steely gray eyes matched the silver at his temples. Only those eyes settled on Sari with emotions that suggested he’d met the young woman before and was upset by her death.
“I’m sorry for bringing this killer to Tinley,” Gia said, guilt nagging at her.
“Not your fault,” the man reassured her. “But it’s awful about Sari. She was a great girl.” He heaved a breath. “We’re all rooting for you and Murphy to find your sister.”
Gia murmured thanks. Back to business, she explained about finding the partial print in the cookie dough and relayed the information her partner had passed along.
Murphy relayed his findings in the garage. “It looks as if the snowplow came early this morning and spread salt on the main road, so it may have obliterated any car tire tracks that the snow accumulation didn’t cover up.”
Dr. Nix tugged on latex gloves, adjusted his glasses and the mic on the collar of his lab coat, then began his initial exam. Gia watched, a feeling of helplessness threatening to overwhelm her as the storm intensified outside.
Ten women had died, and she didn’t have a clue as to the killer’s identity. What kind of federal agent was she?
Dr. Nix ran a light over Sari’s exposed skin searching for signs of violence. Bruises where the psycho had grabbed her discolored her arms. Her hands looked unharmed, but the ME lifted her left one and examined her nails. “I’ll scrape for DNA in case she scratched him.” He checked Sari’s eyes, and Gia recognized signs of petechial hemorrhaging similar to the other victims. Gently, the ME eased away the scarf to examine Sari’s neck.
“I’
ll need to perform the autopsy to confirm, but bruises on her neck and petechial hemorrhaging indicate asphyxiation due to strangulation.”
“Same as the other victims. They were injected with a paralytic agent, Pancuronium bromide,” Gia said.
“I’ll run a full tox screen and check for it.” The ME lifted the young woman’s hair from the back of Sari’s neck and made a low sound in his throat. “Looks like an injection site here.”
“The killer came up behind her and jabbed her in the back of the neck before she had a chance to defend herself,” Murphy said in a voice laced with disdain.
Gia and Dr. Nix both murmured their agreement. “She never had a chance,” Gia said. “The drug rendered her helpless to fight back.”
Outside, an engine sounded, and Murphy went to check it out. A minute later, he returned with two techs from the crime lab. “We got here as soon as we could. It’s rough out there,” Lt. Mason said.
“Oh, my word.” The female’s face turned ashen. “That serial killer really is here.”
Sympathy for the young woman surfaced. “Are you going to be okay to work the scene?” Gia asked.
The female tech wiped sweat from her brow then seemed to regroup. “Of course. I’ll do whatever I can to help catch this demented man.”
Murphy handed over the hair and texted the woman the photographs of the scuff marks. Gia did the same with the print. “I also sent this to my partner at the Bureau, so he’ll run it for a match. Or at least a partial one.”
Murphy’s cell buzzed, cutting into the tension-filled air. Gia stiffened, waiting, praying it was good news.
Judging from the grim look on Murphy’s face, it wasn’t.
She held her breath as he hung up, too afraid to ask.
* * *
11:20 a.m., December 19, Tinley
Anxiety knotted every muscle in Murphy’s body as he talked to his receptionist. Typically, Tinley was a happy, safe little town. Today they would have been hosting the Christmas parade with floats, music and crafts and games for the children.
Instead the town was virtually on lockdown from the storm, mired in a murder investigation, and searching for a missing resident.
He ended the call, then turned to Gia. “Someone just called in a tip. They spotted a light on in an abandoned barn outside of town. Could be where the CK is holed up.”
Hope and fear flickered across her face. “Let’s go.”
Murphy addressed the crime techs. “Stay here, process the house and make sure no one disturbs the crime scene.”
“Copy that,” the male agent said.
“I’ll transport her body,” Dr. Nix murmured.
Murphy thanked them, then he and Gia bundled back up and hurried out to his car. The wind chill had dropped another five degrees since they’d gotten to Sari’s. Anyone stranded out in this mess might not survive.
He knew that barn they were about to scope out. It had been abandoned for months, ever since Clyde Owen passed away and the bank had bought his property. With no family, the house had stood empty along with the outbuilding. An investor had bought the land from the bank and already demolished the old fifties ranch.
There was no heat in the barn though. Which meant staying there would be dicey.
Although a desperate killer might take his chances.
“You know where this place is?” Gia asked.
“About three miles outside of town.”
They lapsed into silence, the only sound the shrill wind roaring, the heater rumbling, and the defroster struggling to keep the windows clear enough for Murphy to see out. Even with snow tires, he had to drive slowly. Gia huddled deeper inside her coat and rubbed her hands together to keep warm.
“I should have come home to see Carly more often,” she mumbled beneath her breath. “But I …told her I was too busy.”
Ahh, hell. Murphy hated the pain and guilt in her voice. Unable to resist, he placed his hand over hers. “You were busy chasing a serial killer, trying to save lives, Gia,” he said. “Everyone in the world saw that news story.”
“Too busy for my own sister,” Gia’s voice cracked. “I was always too busy to come back here.”
Murphy squeezed her hand. “I’m sure Carly understood.”
Her breath gushed out, unsteady and filled with emotions. “She did. But she shouldn’t have had to. I’ve been a terrible sister.”
“You are not a terrible sister,” Murphy said. “And this isn’t your fault. You were trying to stop this maniac.”
“And I led him straight to my own family.”
Murphy didn’t know what to say. Carly had been targeted because Gia was in the limelight. All the reporters had focused on her as the lead investigator in the case.
And she had vowed to nail this killer.
“We’re going to get him, Gia,” Murphy promised. “Just hang in there.”
He wouldn’t let her down.
* * *
11:20 a.m., December 19, Tinley
Despair threatened as Gia looked out at the frigid weather. If Carly somehow found a way to escape the CK, how would she survive the elements and come back home?
Was she warm? Had he hurt her? “I should have visited more,” Gia whispered, a mountain of regret piling on top of her guilt.
“Why didn’t you come back?” Murphy asked. “Was it just too hard after your mother died?”
Gia shrugged. “That was part of it. I guess I was a coward. I couldn’t stand to be in the house or the store that she loved so much. The memories…they just felt crushing.”
“That’s understandable,” Murphy murmured. “Family is everything.”
“It probably seems like I didn’t care about mine,” Gia said. “Like I’d abandoned Carly.”
“You always wanted to leave Tinley,” Murphy commented. “I remember in high school, you had high aspirations. There’s nothing wrong in that.”
Gia gave him a wry look. “I must have sounded snobbish, wanting to leave this town for something bigger and more exciting.”
Murphy gripped the steering wheel as he battled the wind force to stay on the road. “It’s normal for kids to want to leave the nest and fly on their own. To see the world and what’s out there. It takes courage.”
“You never left,” Gia said softly.
Murphy clenched his jaw. “I thought about it a few times, but the timing was never right.”
“What do you mean?”
“My mom,” he said. “She was ill. I was all she had. I couldn’t just leave her.”
Like she’d left Carly.
Gia folded her arms. “That’s admirable of you.”
“Not really. When my old man started beating me, she stepped in and sent him packing. She was strong back then. I owe her now.”
“Oh, Murphy, I didn’t know,” Gia said, her voice soft. “I’m sorry.”
Murphy shrugged. “No big deal.” He slanted her an odd look. “And I wasn’t criticizing you for leaving, Gia. We had different dreams, that’s all. Mine was to have family close and take care of the town. You had to leave Tinley to chase yours.”
And to find out what was really important.
He didn’t have to say the words. They’d been screaming in her head ever since that terrifying call from Carly.
She wondered what her life would have been like if she’d stayed here and settled down with a man like Murphy. Not seen some of the harsh things she’d seen. Let down her defenses and had a family of her own.
Murphy turned off the main road, and they disappeared into the country, leaving Tinley behind. The fields that were once colorful with rows and rows of corn, now looked desolate, like an icy barren of nothingness.
The sheriff plowed through the snow packed road, the SUV bouncing over ruts and ice. He rounded a corner and drove a couple of miles before the barn slipped into view.
Gia’s pulse clamored as she spotted smoke curling into the sky.
The barn was on fire.
Chapter Nineteen
/> 11:45 a.m., December 19, Tinley
Thick smoke plumes curled upward, turning the white fog into a gray blur. Gia threw the car door open, jumped from Murphy’s vehicle and jogged toward the barn.
Murphy was right behind her, already on the phone calling the fire department. The smell of burning wood permeated the air, the heat radiating from the fire engulfing her as she neared the barn. Wind howled, feeding the blaze as it whipped through the rotting building.
The fire appeared to be consuming the back of the barn, wood cracking and popping as the blaze ate the old boards.
She pressed her hand to the door to see if it was hot and yanked it away as heat scalded her.
Panic and fear choked her. What if Carly was inside?
She had to save her.
Uncaring what happened to her, she yanked open the door. Murphy yelled at her to stop, but she pulled it hard and it swung open. Flames roared, and suddenly the building exploded. The impact sent her body flying backward, and she collapsed into the snow.
“Dammit, Gia!”
Murphy joined her in a flash, kneeling beside her. “Are you hurt?”
Stars danced in front of her eyes, and an ache throbbed in her shoulder from where she’d hit the ground. The wind bit at her exposed skin, stinging, as she pushed her gloved hands against the frozen ground to get up.
“Gia?”
“I’m okay,” she whispered, more irritated than hurt.
Murphy curled his fingers around her arm and helped her up. She swayed slightly and he steadied her.
“I have to see if Carly’s inside.” She started forward, but Murphy grabbed her and held her back.
“It’s too dangerous.”
She shoved at his hands, struggling to get free. If her sister was in there, could she still be alive?
“Let me go, Murphy!” She beat at his chest with her fists, but he wrapped his arms around her and held her, absorbing the brunt of her rage and frustration.