Allie didn’t let on that the letters being sent to the reporter were being done so over an anonymous message app that hid the user of the blind account by not requiring the sender to enter his own email address.
Agent Thorne was currently attempting to get a warrant for the company who created the app in order to have them hand over any information they might have, including IP connections, but privacy laws were shielding them from that legal action. In the meantime, Jay and his team would have to continue their search and hope that positive DNA results came back from the bullet Gwen Kendall discharged from her weapon.
Recalling that the unsub would most likely be favoring his left arm in some manner, Allie glanced over her shoulder to the group of men surrounding one of the two dartboards. Billy Stanton was still holding his bottle of beer with his right hand. He hadn’t done anything with his left side to give any indication he had a wound on the outer part of his left shoulder or upper arm.
Allie turned back so that she had full view of the mirror in front of her, searching out Jack Stuart. She wasn’t surprised to find that he made no attempt to hide the fact that he was staring directly at her. There wasn’t a suspect that she couldn’t stare down, and she sure as hell didn’t want Jack Stuart to believe that he had the upper hand just because he was an odd character. She had no doubt that she could wipe the floor with him in a close combat situation.
“Speak of the devil,” Miles muttered, waving his hand at Brynn as she made her way back behind the bar. Allie waited until Jack finally broke eye contact, glancing toward Brynn. He must have been curious as to what Miles was talking about, which meant he’d heard every word she’d said since his arrival. Good. That’s exactly what she’d wanted. “Brynn, turn up the volume. There’s that reporter again.”
Sure enough, the redheaded reporter appeared solemn as the camera focused on her pretty congenial face. On one hand, the impromptu broadcast prevented Allie from having to answer Miles Schaeffer about fingerprints or sweat DNA on some paper that didn’t even exist.
Unfortunately, such an interruption couldn’t be good news.
Concern immediately spread among the patrons of the bar as Brynn reached for the remote that had been stored underneath the bar for everyone’s protection. It wasn’t long before everyone had gathered around the outer line of stools to hear the latest announcement.
“…coming to you again from Blyth Lake, Ohio with an update on the Blyth Lake Serial Killer.” Charlene Winston was a professional, and she knew exactly when to insert a long pause for effect. “It’s come to our attention that the FBI has brought a person of interest into the local police station for formal questioning. We are live on the scene. There are no details as of yet, but we will remain vigilant in our duties to…”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Miles muttered, his frown immediately turning into a big wide grin. “Jeremy, this could be it. This nightmare could finally over.”
Allie truly wished that she could join in the celebration, but she understood all too well that nothing was ever written in stone and the recent news report said nothing of any real value. Who had Jay brought in for questioning? Was he or she a material witness or a suspect? If the latter, on what grounds?
There were too many unanswered questions to revel in the relief these people desired. She also couldn’t help but casually set her gaze on Billy Stanton’s reflection only to find that he wasn’t looking at the television screen like the rest of the clientele…he was staring directly back at her using the same exact mirror.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Mitch was once again running on next to no sleep, but that didn’t keep him from taking two cups of coffee out to the front porch. The snap of the screen door closing behind him didn’t prevent the crickets from exchanging their love songs for more than a brief moment.
One of the many saving graces about this time of year was that the mosquitos were no longer out in full force. Quite often during the summer, one had to virtually dip oneself in bug spray to avoid being eaten alive.
Mitch’s dad always fogged his yard and made sure to treat any standing body of water on his property for the little flying menaces, but not everyone was so conscientious. Fall temperatures rendered those precautions obsolete, allowing everyone to enjoy bonfires and sitting out on the porch without all that mess. One just needed to wear warm clothing.
The fact that Allie Delaney was sitting on his porch swing was an added bonus to the season.
He’d made that initial phone call to her for assistance in the investigation, but he’d never imagined in a million years that she would purposefully put herself in harm’s way to attract the attention of the killer. All he’d wanted was her help to unlock the secrets of whatever darkness had been hidden in Blyth Lake for over a decade.
Mitch refused to allow Allie to be swallowed by the shadows that hid this demon from plain sight. He was sure once he had a bead on this animal, he would finish this one way or another.
Mitch had worked side by side with Allie for a number of years and had been her friend for much longer. Now that they were both out of the Marines, she wouldn’t have as much trouble keeping up with his latest address.
He’d never once considered her background as being similar to those of the young girls who’d lost their lives. Allie had never used her unhappy childhood as a crutch, therefore it was easy to forget she’d been raised by an alcoholic father who spent more money on booze than he ever had on his daughter.
The moment Mitch forbid Allie from pursuing this dangerous game that she was playing and knowing that it could get her killed, he was certain that would all but guarantee that she’d run headlong into the raging flames of fire. She’d never admit it, but she was an adrenaline junkie addicted to the thrill of the hunt. He needed to manage this delicate situation just right, which meant sending her back to D.C. and losing the advantage of having her here.
“Do you need a heavier jacket than the blazer you have on?” Mitch asked, carefully handing over the steaming mug that included way too much sugar and cream to his liking. Hell, he took his coffee black. It was simpler that way. “And when did you switch from black coffee to this shit?”
Dusk had fallen, but the porch light cast enough illumination that he had no trouble making out Allie’s striking features. Her chestnut hair was still pulled back in a knot, and a loose silky portion framed her heart-shaped face. He remembered tucking that same strand of hair behind her ear the one night they…
Mitch caught himself before allowing his thoughts to stray too far.
He didn’t regret a single second of that night they’d been intimate together, but he’d also known that they led two distinctly different lives for anything more than that to develop between them. There also hadn’t been enough time for it to grow into something more.
They’d made the right decision to keep their relationship confined to just being friends.
Why, then, was reversing his decision to have her come here so damned hard to say?
“There’s an exceptional café or Starbucks practically on every corner in D.C.” Allie had somehow managed to curl her legs underneath her on the padded porch swing, regardless that she had on a pair of brown leather knee-high boots. She smiled up at him when he remained standing. “After a while, black coffee just didn’t cut it. I got used to living in civilization, and I adjusted to the availability of condiments.”
He figured she was referring to the late nights of numerous investigations, the long hours sweating over a profile that could make or break a case, and making endless adjustments as each gruesome murder or violent act took place.
He didn’t envy her schedule, and he sure as hell didn’t picture himself having to deal with the same shit here in such a small town with a population of around twenty-three hundred residents. He certainly hadn’t expected that poison to take root in his hometown.
“Shelby Tilmadge is on a forty-eight hour hold at University Hospitals of Cleveland until a psych evaluation can be
ordered,” Mitch shared with her, having just gotten off the phone with Agent Thorne. It was better to start slow and work up to what he needed to happen. “We all know Shelby couldn’t hurt a flea, but his detailed confession about the murders was enough for the prosecutor to take notice of him. No charges have been pressed, but it’s going to be a shitstorm when the public realizes that Shelby is just a disturbed individual who confessed to several murders all because he believes those damned aliens and their mothership can’t reach him behind bars.”
“I bet Jay is fit to be tied.” Allie lifted her lashes to reveal her brown eyes, both darker in this light than he was used to seeing. He could physically see the change in her body language when she concentrated solely on business. “Did Special Agent Theo Stringer provide you with the updated profile?”
“No, not yet. If he’s given it to Agent Thorne, I don’t know anything about it.” Mitch didn’t have to say another word for her to know of his displeasure at the fact that Stringer had other priorities. If that was the case, then the FBI needed to find the funding to employ more agents with a background in behavioral sciences. “Speaking of which, you never gave me the profile you worked up.”
In those few phone conversations Mitch did have with Allie, she’d expressed that her way of doing things was completely opposite of how Stringer wrote up a profile. Stringer would rather take what was on paper and create an outline of an individual. Allie had always worked better in the field where she could sense the environment, catching things that could alter the slightest detail of her report based on local changes in lifestyle and family customs.
Small Town, America was entirely different than what one might find in the larger cities. People continued customs their ancestors kept from their origins, local people shared common schooling, and people knew each other intimately as a matter of everyday proximity.
“You’ve been a bit busy,” Allie reminded him with a lift of her pink lips. She must have applied a fresh coat of lip gloss after dinner, which unfortunately hadn’t included his father or the rest of the family. Mitch had no choice but to postpone their family gathering due to the media circus outside the station. He was beginning to think the cancellation wasn’t such a bad idea, considering his siblings were already making Allie’s visit out to be more than what it truly was meant to be. “At least we know why Patty didn’t answer Jack Stuart’s phone call today.”
Mitch took comfort in knowing that the lines to the sheriff’s office switched over to the 911 state facilities should a real emergency have taken place. Shelby Tilmadge usually didn’t qualify as much more than a nuisance, though that had changed quickly once he started spouting on about chains and borrowing boats to take his victims out to the middle of the lake to sink their remains. Patty had already been made aware of the situation and had been fielding numerous calls from the residents coming and going over the county line.
Mitch debated joining Allie on the porch swing, but he thought better of it. He needed to utilize this private time with her to gain insight into her thoughts and views on how to capture the individual they were all looking for. After that, he needed her far away from here.
“I didn’t bring you here to act as bait to draw out a serial killer, Allie.” Mitch purposefully chose the seat that faced the property. It allowed him to still make out her expressions while also giving him an overview of the approach up the driveway. He instinctively tensed at the excitement that flashed in her eyes that were no longer dark. “What you’ve been doing is dangerous, and it sure as hell wasn’t the reason I asked you here.”
So much for subtlety.
“What I did was plant a few seeds in the right soil,” Allie corrected him quietly, resting the mug on the side of her knee as it was clear she was choosing her words carefully. “You have to admit it’s a brilliant plan, Ken. Everyone in a small town like this talks. It will spread like a wildfire.”
“It’s also a contingency that Agent Thorne and I didn’t sign off on. He doesn’t even want you here, let alone being stalked out like some sacrificial lamb. Hell, the Bureau would probably kick your ass to the curb if they realized you were in Blyth Lake doing what you’ve been doing all day.”
Mitch ran a hand over his face, wishing he could crawl into bed for the next twelve hours. Hell, he wouldn’t even be opposed to having her by his side if he thought they could survive the same arrangement as last time.
That boat had sailed long ago, and he was at a stage of his life where he needed to find himself a home along with everything that came with that moniker. Being a civilian had initially put him into a tailspin, and he wouldn’t be able to recover until the ground appeared below him and he could see his way clear of this mess.
Even then, he wasn’t sure he was cut out for the type of relationship Allie would want. He wasn’t blind or deaf. She’d said on more than one occasion herself that she wasn’t cut out for a life of commitment.
Mitch didn’t doubt that it was because of her childhood, but they’d never delved that deep into their subconscious with one another. Not even the night they’d slept together. Hell, they’d both been drinking and knew better.
“How am I supposed to explain your agenda to Thorne once he hears what you’ve done?”
Allie shrugged, clearly not worried about her colleague or his response to her behavior.
“Look, the profile that Stringer put together is pretty damned accurate. I wouldn’t change it much, with the exception of what I amended this morning. With that said, being here in this town changes things by virtue of what and who these people are.” Allie tapped her finger on the handle of the mug, as if she were doing her best to select the right words. “You know the unsub, Mitch. For all we know, he’s probably been to your father’s house for dinner. We’ve already established that, but he is someone you grew up with…someone from your generation. When his identity is eventually revealed, you’ll find that he’s said or done things that should have tipped you off long ago. This isn’t the type of unsub where the neighbors are questioning how this could have happened, all because he was a genuinely nice guy who helped a neighbor unload her groceries from her car and she forgot to say thank you.”
“You’re saying that we are looking at someone like Shelby Tilmadge, who has been right in front of us the whole time.”
“No. Shelby has delusions about being abducted and probed by aliens.” Allie unfolded her legs and gently set the soles of her boots on the wooden planks of the old porch. She leaned forward as she became engrossed in the topic of conversation, seemingly wanting him to feel the same sense of urgency. He ignored the fact that the light fragrance of her perfume consumed the scent of autumn. “The unsub you’re looking for is an everyday average Joe, but he’s been vocal about his loneliness and appears very unassuming.”
“Do you believe he’s an only child?”
“Originally, I would have said yes.” Allie slowly shook her head, as if there was something just out of reach that she couldn’t touch. “There’s something about the young girls…sisters…that has the unsub’s attention. Why not target young men? If he wants a complete family, why only young girls reaching that tender age where they are just beginning their lives as women?”
“Have you seen the stock of teenage boys around here? They’re taller, wider, and stronger than the average male was at our age.” Mitch didn’t think it too odd that young women were targeted versus young males. “Are you saying there’s something more to that?”
“Maybe.” Allie leaned back against the porch swing, using her boots to create a slow sway. “I was at The Cavern when you were dealing with Shelby and that entire media circus you had to manage. Jack Stuart walked in, but I also had the unique pleasure of meeting Billy Stanton and his band of merry misfits.”
Mitch had been about to take a drink of his coffee, but the way she’d verbalized Billy’s name had him changing his mind. The Stantons were wealthy, and Billy had always believed he was untouchable. Outside the law. But just because
the man was a complete asshole didn’t mean that he was capable of cold-blooded murder.
“I didn’t get a chance to see if Stanton was favoring his left arm, but I do recall Jack Stuart giving us a glimpse of the slightest wince when he rested his left elbow on the window of his truck.” Allie gave another small shrug as she continued to mull over the details of the case. “Jack is an only child, and he fits the rest of the profile. Then again, so do a lot of men in this lovely town.”
Mitch had noticed Jack’s earlier reaction as well, but almost every male in Blyth Lake worked some type of manual trade job. Injuries were common. This small town wasn’t a city that catered to white collar jobs, with the exception of business owners. In reality, it wouldn’t be hard to whittle down the suspect list with a simple slap on the arm.
Maybe he should arrange an arm wrestling contest at the Cavern. The local men would line up for something like that with bragging rights attached. Anyone opting out of a chance to prove his bravado would stand out in the crowd. Hmmm. Maybe a darts tournament would suffice.
“Billy was raised in a wealthy family with both parents.” Mitch was relying on the profiles he’d been given by both Stringer and Allie, but that didn’t mean he was putting all his eggs in one basket. Also, Allie had brought up Stanton for a reason. “He doesn’t fit your profile.”
“He has two parents, but that doesn’t mean he was raised by both. Lack of supervision might be enough,” Allie pointed out, lifting the coffee cup to her pink lips. She slowed the swing with her boot so she could take another sip. Mitch honestly liked having her here to bounce ideas off of, but it was coming time to tell her the truth—she needed to be far away from here after the stunt she’d pulled today. “He’s a likely suspect, and one you should check out. There’s something else that Stringer will probably add to his profile.”
Unlocking Darkness (Keys to Love Series, Book Five) Page 7