“Anyone see anything earlier?”
Samuel shook his head. “The fog and mist kept most people in. The lady that called just happened to be letting in her cat when she heard the screaming. Both women are very lucky.”
“Tell me about it. All right, why don’t you keep a couple patrol cars in the area tonight?” Mark pulled his collar up around his neck. The mist was turning into a light rain. “Tell Stuart I want a copy of all the photos and his report on my desk as soon as possible.”
“Like yesterday,” Edward returned.
“I’m going to take Miss Taylor to the hospital. I think she should be checked out. Have you heard anything on her dog? She’s asking.” Mark looked over to the cruiser where the woman sat huddled in the front seat.
“Hamilton said they sent it over to Lakeview. Two cuts. Hopefully not bad, that dog deserves a medal.”
“Or at least a steak, cooked medium rare. I’ll see you in the morning.” Mark watched the criminologists bending over the ground inside the yellow taped off area, and offered a silent plea that there would be some clue to this maniac.
Turning, his eyes again rested on the young woman wrapped in a blanket. At least, tonight the beast didn’t win. The victim was alive, and with a witness, maybe they’d have a key. As his long stride carried him closer to the police car, he felt his heart stir as it hadn’t for a long time. The key was all too appealing. Her head was tilted to the side, leaning against the backrest. The light from the car illuminated her features. Dark eyelashes lowered to creamy smooth cheeks. Sweet, innocent, vulnerable, all ran through his mind as he stopped in front of her.
Longing hit him hard, making him want to reach down, and pull her up in his arms; to keep the dark, harsh world at bay. He didn’t want pain to have any place in Jillian Taylor’s life.
A quick nod to the policewoman and she moved off. Crouching down, he watched the peaceful face a moment. He longed to brush back the lock of hair that had fallen across her cheek. Her eyes sprung open, bright, alert, but as they locked on his face, fear disappeared from the blue depths. “You ready to go?” Mark found his voice odd to his ears, low, husky.
She didn’t ask where they were going, only nodded. Her large eyes fixed on his making him wonder if she, too, felt a stirring. Reaching out a hand, he helped her to stand then released her quick. He extended his arm indicating the direction. “This way,” again a hand found a way to her as he caught her elbow leading her around the front of the car.
“We’ll …” His sentence ended as the flash burst in front of his eyes. The gasp beside him caused him to spin. He felt the contact of Jillian’s body, his arms going around her. Looking back over his shoulder, the afterglow faded, so he could make out the solid built man with the camera up ready for another shot.
“Clark, get that thing out of my face.” In the year he knew the reporter, the man had always gotten on his nerves.
“Come on, Chief, its good press.”
“Not tonight, and you’re a reporter not a photographer.” Mark cut back, not withholding his annoyance from his voice.
“Hey, a man of many talents and it makes it easier if I get my own shots. I have a good eye. Do you want to tell me who this beauty is?”
At the word ‘beauty’, Mark heard Jillian’s little gasp. Tightening his arm, he pressed her into him. She had enough tonight without facing the arrogant, pushy reporter.
“Out of my way, Clark,” he pulled Jillian into step with him, as he maneuvered around the man.
“Hey, come on, Richards, what’s going on down here? The public has a right to know.” The man moved back into their path.
“There’ll be a statement in the morning.”
“It was the killer. Then who’s the victim? She found the body? Did she see him?” The reporter pushed a mini-recorder at them.
“Get that thing out of my face before I have you arrested,” Mark growled.
“You can’t, freedom of the press, you know. Now, what’s her name?” The camera flashed again.
“Edward!” Mark released Jillian, stepping in front of her.
“Listen, Clark, do me a favor. I’ll give you a statement in the morning, but for now, back off.” His second in command came running up, shouldering his way between the two other men; taking the reporter’s arm he tugged him away.
“Come on, Clark. If you behave yourself, I’ll let you get a picture of Miller over there doing his thing; otherwise, we’ll take a run around the park. Maybe you can find some other sicko out preying on young women.”
“So it was the same guy. We have a serial killer on our hands.” The man’s excitement came through so that you could hear “good press” and “hot scoop” written all over his tone.
“Two killings don’t make a serial killer.”
Mark heard his second comment, knowing down inside it was wrong. They did have a serial killer. A sick mind lashing out on beautiful young woman, and if they didn’t find him soon, more would die. Feeling the woman beside him shudder, he looked down. The maniac slipped up tonight; he’d err again, and they would get him. Opening the door of his sedan, he settled the woman in. Her face turned away from the night, pressing into the seat. Mark quickly closed the door to shut out the conversation behind him.
“Two, you mean the victims still alive?” The reporter’s voice was hot with excitement. “Was that the victim? Come on, give Samuels.”
Mark climbed in the driver’s side cutting out the further comments. Edward Samuels could handle Clark.
Blind Witness Page 24