by Burton, Mary
Bennett unfolded her arms, but her stiff posture radiated stress and strain. “We announced the identification of Tobi’s remains this morning.”
“But you didn’t connect Tobi’s murder to the rapes?” Macy asked.
“No.”
“Good. Don’t. If the perpetrator believes we haven’t linked the cases, he might show his hand,” Macy said.
“And if the killer is watching the press conference?” Bennett asked.
“I’m planning on it,” Macy said. “This guy is organized and careful. We’ll rattle his cage and make him realize he’s not invincible.” Macy drew a solid line under her last notation. “What can you tell me about Tobi Turner?”
Bennett reached for a thick folder and set it in front of Macy. “Tobi was seventeen at the time she vanished. She was an honor roll student, and she played the flute in the band. She attended all the football games, debating events, and dances.”
“The kid kept her nose clean,” Macy said. “But somewhere along the way, she trusted the wrong person.” Her own adoptive mother had infused her with a healthy dose of skepticism that had kept her safe and cynical while growing up.
“Sheriff Hank Greene did quite a bit of work himself on this case, and he worked closely with the state police and FBI,” Bennett said carefully. “This file is packed with witness statements, which is the bulk of the information this office had until now.”
“Tobi’s disappearance received a lot of attention,” Macy said. “Makes me think the killer realized he would be captured if he continued.”
“Or he simply hunted elsewhere,” Nevada said.
“People notice when a girl goes missing,” Bennett said. “I searched multiple databases yesterday, and there were no missing persons reports on girls fitting this criteria.”
Macy softened her tone, knowing she could sound harsh. “And you may be right, Deputy Bennett. He may have found a coping mechanism. Perhaps he never intended to kill Tobi, and it freaked him out.”
“Do you believe that?” Nevada asked.
“No,” Macy said.
“Announcing the linked rapes on the heels of our press release about the discovery of Tobi’s remains might set him off. The public won’t know the cases are linked, but he does. Are we kicking a hornet’s nest?” Bennett challenged.
“It’s an acceptable risk,” Macy said. “If you remain silent, then other women who have a story to tell might not ever come forward and possibly identify him.”
“Fifteen years might be enough time for a victim to feel safe enough to open up to the police,” Nevada said.
“Fifteen years is also a long time to keep a secret,” Bennett said.
“High time to talk about it, then,” Macy said.
“You make it sound easy.”
“It’s never going to be easy.”
“Would a press conference expedite this investigation?” Bennett asked.
“It could. Seeing and hearing a sheriff’s appeal for more information can make a powerful impression. However, it can trigger a flood of calls that lead nowhere,” Macy said.
“That’s why they pay me the big bucks, right?” Bennett quipped in a tight voice.
“Set it up,” Macy said. “In the meantime, I want to talk to the rape victims and Tobi Turner’s father.”
“The first rape victim, Susan Oswald, is working today but agreed to speak to you later. The second will be coming by today to talk to you, Agent Crow,” Bennett said.
Macy glanced at her notes. “That would be Ellis Carter.”
Nevada’s jaw clenched and his lips compressed. “That’s correct.”
“Is there a problem with Ms. Carter I should be aware of?” Macy asked. “You stiffened when I mentioned her name.”
“She’s my first cousin,” Nevada said.
Sullivan knocked on the door and poked his head in the conference room. “Deputy, your son is on line one. He said he needs a permission slip signed, but your mother forgot.”
Tugging her ear, Bennett nodded. “I’ll get working on that press conference. Excuse me.”
As Macy watched Bennett leave, she was struck by the anxiety rippling through the deputy’s body. Her demeanor could be explained as a case of nerves. Many local officers mistrusted FBI until they proved their worth. But it was more than that with Bennett. Whatever was chewing on her ran deep.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Monday, November 18, 2:30 p.m.
As Bennett’s determined footsteps drifted down the hallway, Macy felt Nevada’s scrutiny shift from the case to her. An insect under a microscope would have felt less noticed.
“You’ve shifted in your seat several times. Are you in pain?” he asked.
“The leg always aches. One of the many odd souvenirs I collected in Texas.”
“What other keepsakes did you bring back?” he asked.
“An identical twin sister.”
“Seems surreal to know there’s another you running around.”
Nevada’s description didn’t begin to encompass the insanity of her life. The only thing that really made sense these days was work. “Tell me about it.”
“How are you processing what you discovered in Texas?” he asked.
“You mean, how am I squaring with the fact that I’m half-monster?”
Nevada met her gaze head-on. “I didn’t mean it that way.”
Bitterness saturated her tone. “Ramsey asked me the same question, but in a different way.”
“I know it has to be a lot to process.”
Pressure built in her chest as it always did when she discussed Texas. “I won’t lie. It’s hard to wrap my head around it at times.”
“Just for the record, the planet’s a better place for having you in it,” Nevada said.
That prompted a sour smile. “A girl made a terrible sacrifice so that I could exist. I owe her the scalps of as many of these bastards as I can collect.”
“Scalps won’t bring her back.”
“They’ll make me feel better.”
Nevada looked skeptical. “Will they?”
“I’ll let you know when I catch this one.” She resented the sadness tiptoeing around her words. She uncrossed her legs and rubbed her hand over her thigh. “Why are you in Deep Run? I’d have bet a few paychecks you’d never end up here.”
He shifted his weight slightly. “I like the slower pace.”
She leaned forward, lowering her voice. “I know you. Communing with nature in solitude was never your thing. There’s more perking behind those steely eyes.”
He tapped a finger on the conference table. “What can I say? Living out of a suitcase got real old.”
She wasn’t buying it, but she didn’t press. They both were better off not knowing. “You said Ellis Carter is a cousin.”
“She’s my first cousin. Her mother and my mother were sisters. We grew up together. When I found out about the untested kits and launched my bid for sheriff, she confessed she was one of the victims.”
“You never knew?”
“She made Greene and her mother keep it a secret.”
That piece connected several portions of the puzzle. If anything, Nevada was loyal. “You must have been pissed.”
“An understatement. I visited with Sheriff Greene about the kits. He blamed it on a lack of budget. I offered to get federal funding, and he basically blew me off.”
“How high did your stack blow?” she asked.
“Through the roof. I left his office and went directly to the courthouse and filed my intention to run for office.”
Nevada had never been the kind of guy to walk away. “How’s Ms. Carter doing?”
“She’s doing well. She said counseling helped a lot, and she’s moved on with her life.”
“But she won’t really until this guy is caught.”
His hand closed slowly into a fist. “She thinks he called her about five years ago.”
She jotted a note on her legal pad. “What did he say?”
/> “He said, ‘I remember you.’”
“And she’s sure it’s him?”
“She’s not positive.”
Macy rubbed her hands together. “If he did call her, it tells me he feeds off fear.”
“I know.” Pain and anger vibrated around him.
“You want this as much as I do.”
He dropped his gaze for only a moment, telling her the on-point assessment struck a nerve. “Yes,” he said quietly.
Bennett appeared in the doorway. “Ellis Carter is here,” she said.
They both rose. Macy tugged the sleeves of her blazer down. Nevada shifted his stance and forced himself to relax his shoulders.
Macy’s work with human trafficking victims had driven home many lessons. The first was simple. Time didn’t heal all wounds. Counseling certainly helped glue the broken pieces back together, but mended cracks remained vulnerable forever.
However, Ellis Carter appeared to have no weaknesses. At thirty, she was slim and fit with dark hair as black as Nevada’s. She wore no makeup to accentuate her clear, tanned skin, but frankly she didn’t need it. She made faded jeans, a red pullover sweatshirt, and well-worn hiking boots look fashionable.
Ellis smiled at Nevada and hugged him. “Mike. How goes the renovation?”
Nevada’s face warmed in a way that Macy found out of character and attractive. His gaze always possessed an edge when he looked at her. “If I never hold a paintbrush again, it’ll be too soon.”
“Rumor has it you’re dragging your grandfather’s place into this century,” Ellis said.
“It’s fighting me every step of the way, but it’s coming around. How’s the business?”
“We’re wrapping up our fall hikes and winding down for the holiday season. You’re still coming to my place for Thanksgiving, right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
“It’ll be a gathering of misfits and should be very fun.”
“You know how I love misfits,” he said dryly.
Ellis laughed. “Ass. You’re going to love this group.”
Macy envied their easy banter. When she thought about the holidays, she pictured her Frankenstein family trying to make conversation at the dinner table. “So, your birth mother was held captive when?”
Ellis turned to Macy and extended her hand. “Ellis Carter.”
Macy accepted it, offering her best official welcome. “I’m Special Agent Macy Crow. Thank you for coming in today.”
All traces of humor vanished. “When I saw Mike, I almost forgot why I was here.”
“I didn’t mean to ruin the reunion,” Macy said.
“No, it’s your job. And I’m glad you’re here. It does my heart good to know you’re all taking a second look at my case.”
Bennett pulled out a chair for Ellis but took a seat at the opposite end of the table. Macy retook her seat, and Nevada planted himself right next to his cousin. He wasn’t a naturally warm person, but he was fiercely protective.
“Ellie,” Nevada said, “as I told you a few months ago, we received a grant so that we could test DNA from a backlog of cases. The samples from your case were among those tested.”
Ellis shifted in her seat and pursed her lips into a grim line. “It never occurred to me that it hadn’t been tested all those years ago.”
“There were budget problems,” Nevada said.
“Never figured justice would have a price tag, but I guess everything does,” Ellis countered.
Until Macy understood the reasons behind Greene’s inaction, she would keep her complaints about his work to herself. “Can I ask you about the night you were attacked?”
Nevada shot Macy a warning as if to say, Tread real lightly.
“Don’t let my cousin’s grim stare put you off,” Ellis said. “I’m not made of china.”
“I can see that.” However, Macy didn’t accept the comment at face value. She, too, had mastered the art of projecting confidence even when she was saddled with worry and guilt. “Can you tell me about that night?”
“Where do I start?” Ellis asked.
“The first time you were aware of your assailant,” Macy offered.
“I was sleeping in my own bed,” she said. “It had taken me hours to fall asleep. My parents were getting a divorce, and I was still dealing with that. Anyway, after several hours I drifted off, but it wasn’t a deep sleep. You know how your brain skims under the sleep, ready to pop to the surface?”
“I’ve had many nights like that,” Macy said.
“I guess I never reached REM sleep because I woke up when I heard my bedroom door close. I sat up and saw him standing by the door.” She drew in a breath and went silent for a moment.
Bennett rose, grabbed the box of tissues from the credenza. With a slight, almost apologetic smile to Ellis, she placed them on the conference table.
“Thanks. I was hoping I wouldn’t need those.” Absently, Ellis tugged at a loose thread on her sweater. “I think I startled him because he turned quickly and in a flash was across the room and on top of me. He shoved a rag in my mouth and put a knife to my throat.”
“Did you see his face?” Macy asked.
“No. He wore a ski mask. It was black with red trim around the eyes and mouth.” Ellis suddenly blinked back tears, plucked a tissue from the box, and dabbed it to her eyes. Nervous laughter bubbled. “You’d think after all this time that I wouldn’t tear up.”
“It’s okay,” Macy said. Once Ellis had dried her eyes and appeared a little more in control, Macy added, “Just speak at your own pace.”
Nevada was silent, but she sensed he struggled to hide his rage. Most people didn’t realize that cases of rape rippled through a family, not only affecting the women but the men as well. A man like Nevada would be blaming himself because he’d not been there to help.
“What color were his eyes?” Macy asked.
Ellis clutched the tissue. “Blue.”
“Did he say anything?” Macy asked.
“He whispered to me to be quiet or he would snap my neck like a twig. My heart beat so hard in my chest, and I thought it would explode. Maybe I should have fought him. I’m strong, but I did what he told me to do. I wasn’t human to him, and that scared me the most.”
“You were a frightened fifteen-year-old,” Macy said. “You survived. You had no options.”
“Mother was out for the evening on a date. She warned me over and over to keep the back door locked, but after I took the trash out, I must have forgotten. I never forget anymore.”
“We all make mistakes.”
“Few mistakes are that costly,” Ellis replied.
Macy shifted in her chair. “I was working a case in Texas last year. I went out alone to investigate a lead. The interview went fine. I left and I dialed the Texas Rangers to report what I’d found. Only I wasn’t really paying attention when a truck came out of nowhere and hit me. The guy was actually trying to kill me and nearly did. I should have seen it coming.”
“You would’ve had no way of knowing he was out there,” Ellis offered.
“Sound counsel. Perhaps we should each listen to the other’s advice.”
Ellis studied her a beat, her brows drawing together. “Fair enough.”
“None of this was your fault. None of it.”
“There are days that I believe that.”
Macy leaned forward, needing Ellis to believe her. “You did nothing wrong.”
Ellis’s gaze locked on to Macy as she searched for any reason to doubt. “Anyway, he tied me up.”
“How did he tie you up?” Macy asked.
The question caused Ellis to pause. “He groped under my bed as if he were searching for something.”
“He didn’t bring restraints with him?” she asked.
Ellis cocked her head. “He acted frustrated when he pinned my arms above my head with his hands. Finally, he found a coil of red rope.” She shook her head. “I’d forgotten that detail until now.”
Macy made n
ote of the observation on her pad. “Go on.”
“And then he, well, raped me. That part of the whole thing was quick. He didn’t seem interested in the sex.”
“What interested him?” Macy asked.
“His eyes sharpened when he wrapped his hands around my neck and squeezed. He started counting. One, two, three. And then I gagged, and I think that startled him. He let go of me right away. He sat on the edge of the bed and just stared at me. I thought maybe if I could get him talking, maybe he’d just leave. But I couldn’t get the rag out of my mouth. I whimpered, hoping he’d show mercy. But that made him upset.”
“How so?”
“He said it wasn’t his fault. He said he didn’t like being weak. He rose up off the bed and paced back and forth. He got more agitated as he mumbled to himself.”
“What did he say?”
“Something like, ‘I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.’”
“Sorry for what?” Macy asked.
“I have no idea.”
“What happened next?”
“He got back on the bed and wrapped his fingers around my neck a second time and started counting. One, two, three, four, five. I thought he would crush my throat. And then he sprang off the bed and left.”
“Did he speak after that?”
“No.”
Bennett shifted her stance, reminding Macy she was in the room. “You told the responding officer that your assailant was in your house for about an hour. How can you be sure of the time?”
“I know I didn’t fall asleep until after two a.m., and I looked at the clock when he left. It read 3:33 a.m. I remember thinking how appropriate.”
“How so?” Macy asked.
“Halfway to hell: 333,” Ellis said.
“Nevada tells me you think this guy called you?” Macy asked.
“Yeah. Super creepy.”
“Nevada said you operate a hiking business?”
“That’s right. I run several expeditions a week.”
“Your business is service oriented. How do you know it wasn’t a disgruntled client or a guy you might have dated at one time?”
“Clients almost always show up on caller ID, and dates are few and far between for me.”
“What did the voice sound like?” Macy asked.
“He whispered, as if he were afraid someone would hear him.”