“We’re hoping that, too,” Craig said.
Detective Bob Green looked at Craig. “You guys are handling the safe house. We’ll see to a watch on this place.”
“He won’t come back here now,” Sarah said.
“Well, he’s pretty cocky,” Luke said.
Sarah shook his head. “He didn’t think that we’d know it was him—but now he knows we’re looking for him, thanks to the picture we released to the press. I think he’ll lie low for a while. But hey, sure—keep an eye on the bar.”
“We don’t have a hell of a lot else,” Green said.
“She’s right, though.”
Tyler swung around. It was the photographer, Alex, who had spoken, and he was now coming up to join them. He flushed and said, “Hey, I’m with the forensic unit—civilian. Not a cop. But I’ve taken a hell of a lot of photos, and...well, here. Here’s some of what I got at the park the other day. The park where Suzie Cornwall was found. If you look...”
He held his camera forward, twisting it around so that they could gather close and see the images right-side up.
“We’re looking at the body of Suzie Cornwall in situ,” Green said.
“Yes, yes, but I just realized what else I have here—studying it all. Let me enlarge it for you... Look at the people,” Alex said. He clicked a side button; the image honed in on the crowd, growing larger.
And there he was.
Perry Knowlton, aged just as the computer suggested he would age.
Tall, with a headful of blond hair. Lean face, rugged chin, broad, high brow. Lean, long physique. Tall, yes, standing next to a rabbi with a tall hat—and a guy who looked like a lumberjack. He almost blended in with the crowd.
“He does come back to the scene of the crime,” Sarah murmured.
“He’s been everywhere!” Alex murmured. “He’s been here. God knows, the man might have been in the city since the Cemetery Mansion massacre.”
“You remember the massacre?” Sarah asked him.
“Anyone who was in the city at the time remembers it,” Detective Green said.
“Some more than others,” Tyler said, studying Alex. “Were you at the theme park?”
“Yeah. Oh, yeah, I was already there—when I was called in to work for the local unit that night! I was still so raw—I’d made it into the academy, but one time when I was sitting around sketching to pass the time, a colleague told me they were short in the forensic department. My curiosity was tweaked, and I figured I could always come back and finish the academy. I never did, but...anyway. I wasn’t making any kind of big bucks, if you know what I mean, so I was moonlighting, too. Working part-time for the amusement company. That night, I was working as a float—you know, I was sent wherever they were missing an employee or actor. That night I was a ticket taker, not far from where the Cemetery Mansion had been erected. I can’t believe I was there—that I might have seen the creepy bastard go running by me—as he escaped. I just remember the blood and the screams and the people who were so terrified, running, running, running...” He stopped, shaking his head. “Hell, I’d give my eyeteeth to help in catching this bastard, so anything—anything at all I can do to help, I’m there. I’m going to go back over the pictures we took of the crime scene when we found Hannah Levine...you know, um, both places where they found her...head and torso.”
“Interesting,” Tyler said. “Maybe you can find some kind of a distinguishing something about him that will give us a clue as to where he’s been living—he has to be in the city somewhere.”
“He wears black in these pictures,” Alex commented. “A black coat.”
“He wears a black coat when he’s in here, too,” said Luke. He cleared his throat. “Do you think he will come back here? I mean, I should be okay, right? He’s going after women.”
Alex Morrison was flicking through his digital pictures. Tyler reached for the camera.
He’d just recently been taking shots of the place. The large, etched mirror behind the bar; the old wooden stools; the rather shabby booths out on the floor; and the tables there. He had taken pictures of the tables inside and of the outside of the establishment.
A large canopy awning hung down over the front of the building, though it hadn’t become a warm enough spring yet for patrons to want to sit outside. Or even have a window open.
But Alex Morrison had taken pictures outside, of the streets leading east and west of the bar. He had caught other buildings in his shots.
And he’d caught a number of pedestrians.
Tyler studied the pictures. He felt Sarah’s hand on his shoulder; she was looking over at them, as well.
Mostly, it appeared to be Manhattan’s daily business crowd—rushing here, there, trying to get to work on time.
People were in line at the coffee shop toward the corner.
A woman had paused to adjust her shoe.
Tyler glanced up at Alex Morrison. He was probably just in his early to midthirties now.
Tyler vaguely remembered him as the photographer back then, but they hadn’t had any real contact at the time. But Morrison had been decent, straightforward, yet gentle due to their ages.
However, not as brave or passionate as he seemed to be now.
His photos were good. He had an eye for focus and detail.
“Touch here, and you can enlarge wherever you want,” Alex told them.
“Thanks.”
“Go back a few,” Sarah said. “There’s a really great long shot. It brings in the street, going toward the Times Square area.”
Tyler flicked back.
And at first, he saw nothing unusual.
No details at all. And then he paused.
There was a woman in the road. The street wasn’t closed to traffic, but she was jaywalking and in the middle of the road as cars went by her.
All around her, neon lights blazed—even in the morning.
The pictures hadn’t been taken an hour ago. Some had just been taken as Alex had entered the bar.
Tyler touched the screen as Alex had shown him. The image enlarged.
She was wearing a white dress, white coat and low white pumps. She had a bobbed platinum haircut—like Marilyn Monroe.
He could see that, compared to other people walking in the vicinity, she was tall. Really tall.
“She...” Green murmured.
“Oh, Lord!” Sarah said.
“What is it?” Alex Morrison asked them, frowning as he turned the viewing screen back toward himself.
“She is a he,” Tyler said quietly. “She is Perry Knowlton. When did you snap that?”
“That’s...that’s one of the last images I took—maybe ten minutes ago.”
Tyler was up and heading out before the others could blink.
No.
She was a he, and the “he” was Perry Knowlton.
And he was out there, close.
Closer than they had ever imagined.
Chapter Seven
Sarah sat tensely on her bar stool.
Tyler had raced out; Craig rose, but hesitated.
“Go on—one of us should go, too, and hell, you’re younger than I am, if you’re going to be running around!” Detective Green said. “I’ll stick here. Alex is with me.”
Then Craig was out the door.
“He won’t be there anymore,” Alex said dismally.
“It hasn’t been much time. And he’s a tall man in drag. They have a chance at finding him,” Detective Green said.
Alex shrugged; it was apparent he sincerely doubted that.
“He’s picked up new talents,” Sarah said.
“What do you mean?” Alex asked.
“I’ve been reading a lot about him. Loner. Had an alcoholic, abusive father, but I really wonder what that might have meant. He was very young whe
n he was apparently discovered cutting up little creatures in the park. And then...”
“So, what new habit?” Alex asked.
She smiled. “I guess he learned at Cemetery Mansion about costumes. There was nothing in his earlier history about him dressing up to perform any of his atrocities—or even to go and view the fruit of his labor. Nothing about wearing women’s clothes.”
As she spoke, her phone rang. It was Tyler. Her heart leaped with a bit of hope that he’d called to tell her they’d taken Perry Knowlton down.
Really, too much to hope.
“He’s not on the street, but we’re not ready to give up,” he said. “I’m going to ask Detective Green to get you to the safe house. You can spend a little time with Davey and everyone.”
She bit her lip. She didn’t really want to go; she liked working with him and Craig—questioning people, listening.
But she couldn’t keep Detective Green sitting here all day on a bar stool.
And she knew it was unsafe for her to stay alone.
“Sarah, is that all right?”
“Of course,” she said. She handed the phone to Bob Green.
She heard Tyler’s voice speaking, and then Green told him, “I’m going to get some men on the street, as well, but...we know now Perry Knowlton is capable of being a changeling. He could be anything and anywhere by now.”
Sarah could hear Tyler’s answer. “But that’s just it—we are aware now. That makes a difference.”
“I’ll see Sarah to the safe house. More officers will be out immediately—I’ll join the manhunt when I’ve made sure Sarah is with the others.”
He hung up and handed the phone back to her. “I’ll get you there now, in my car.”
“You’re going to leave already?” Luke asked, looking unnerved. “Someone needs to be... Am I safe?”
“He’s on the run. He won’t come back here,” Green replied.
Luke swallowed. He looked at Sarah and said, “Um, come visit some other time, huh? We’re not usually such a bad place. I’m...”
The detective had already risen. Luke was actually looking a little ashen, and Green clamped a hand on his shoulder. “You’re okay. I will have a patrolman on his way here. You’re going to be okay.”
* * *
PERRY KNOWLTON WAS tall and blond and had ice-cold dark green eyes.
Which really meant nothing now. Eye color could easily be changed with contacts. Hair color was as mercurial as the tide.
He couldn’t change his height.
They started where Alex Morrison’s digital images had last shown him.
Craig took the right side of the street.
Tyler took the left.
He entered a popular chain dress store. A number of shoppers were about, but he quickly saw the cashier’s booth toward the middle front of the store.
“I’m looking for a woman, very tall, platinum hair, in a white dress,” he told the young clerk. “Have you seen her?”
“Oh, yes! Your friend came in just a few minutes ago. She’s trying on maxi dresses. I helped her find a size.”
Tyler smiled. “She’s still here?”
“Dressing rooms are at the back.”
“Thanks!”
Tyler hurried to the rear of the store. There was a row of fitting rooms, five in all. Only one was in use; he looked at the foot-long gap at the bottom of the doors.
Someone was standing in a pool of white.
The white dress?
He drew his gun and kicked open the door.
A middle-aged woman, quite tall, with a fine-featured face, stared at him in shock.
“I’m so sorry. Oh, Lord, I’m so sorry—I’m after a killer,” he said. Hell. That sounded lame; he was just so damned desperate to catch Perry Knowlton.
He was so damned close.
Now he might well be close to a lawsuit.
“I’m so sorry, honestly.”
She smiled at him. “Sure, honey. But hey, you’re the best excitement I’ve had in some time. I guess that was a gun in your pocket! Hi—I’m Myrna!”
* * *
THE FBI SAFE HOUSE was really pretty incredible. Entering was like going into one of the hundreds of skyscrapers in the city. They had to check in at the door; the girl at the desk appeared to be a clerk. She was, of course, an agent.
And Sarah was aware that the man reading the paper in the lobby was an agent, as well.
They were given permission to go up. Bob Green paused to have a conversation with the agents on duty at the door. There was complete local-federal trust on this case with those involved, but there was still a conversation.
Aunt Renee was in the kitchen; she’d invited their FBI guardians to her very special French toast brunch that morning, and she was busy cooking away when Sarah arrived. “All done soon! Suzie and Sean are going to join us.” She smiled lamely. “It’s not so bad here,” she said softly. “I wish you were hiding out with us, but...I do understand. As long as you’re careful. Davey...Davey is in his room. He’s doing okay. He understands.”
“Of course he understands,” Sarah said. She smiled. “He usually does. He plays us when he chooses!”
“I guess so,” Renee said softly. “Sometimes, I wonder if I’m overprotective. But the thing is, there are cruel people in this world. Well, as we know, there are heinous crazy killers, but...I mean in general. Grade school children can be especially unkind, making fun of anyone who is even a little bit different. And there are adults...they may not even be bad people, but...they don’t know how to manage. Honestly, sometimes neighbors will walk on the other side of the street if they see me coming with Davey. I need to let some of the good in. Odd thing to realize when you’re hiding from a killer, huh?”
Renee smiled ruefully at her. Sarah bit her lip lightly and nodded.
She was overprotective of Davey, too. And, yes, the world could be cruel—besides sadistic killers. But it wasn’t a bad thing to protect those you loved.
Maybe it was just bad to assume others didn’t love them equally.
“I’ll go see how he’s doing,” Sarah said.
“He loves you, you know.”
“And I love him.”
“He loves Tyler, too.”
“And I know that Tyler loves him.”
Renee nodded. “Tyler does love him. He really does.”
“Breakfast smells divine,” she said. “Is it still breakfast?”
“Brunch!” Renee said.
“Yes, brunch sounds great. There’s enough?”
“You know me. There’s enough to feed a small army!”
Sarah left her aunt and headed to the room Davey had chosen. She tapped on the door and he told her to come in.
He was sitting cross-legged on the bed, with his computer.
He looked up at her. “I miss my girlfriend!”
“Of course you do. She’s a sweetie. But I’ll bet she understands.”
He nodded. Then he said, “No, not really.” He shrugged. “Her mama doesn’t even want me talking to her now. Maybe...”
“It will be all right. You called Tyler in, and my friends, Kieran and her boyfriend, FBI Special Agent Frasier—they’re all working on it. It’s going to be okay.”
“It will be okay,” Davey said with certainty. He reached behind his back. “I still have my Martian Gamma Sword!”
“Of course. You made it okay once.”
He nodded. “You just have to know.”
“We didn’t see him, Davey. The others saw him. Perry Knowlton, I mean.”
“But he knows. I’m so sorry he hurt Hannah. And the other woman.”
Sarah was sure no one had described the grisly murders to Davey. Of course, there were TVs just about everywhere.
And Davey loved his computer.
&nbs
p; “No more haunted houses,” Davey said.
“No. Definitely not.”
“Bad people use whatever they can.”
“That’s true, Davey.” Sarah kissed his cheek. “We can all learn from you!” she said softly. “You have that Martian Gamma Sword ready. You just never know.”
“You just never know,” he agreed.
“What are you doing on the computer? Have you been able to talk to Megan through My Special Friends or any other site?”
He nodded, a silly little smile teasing his face. “Yeah, I talk to Megan. I love Megan.”
“I’m very happy for you.”
“It’s forever kind of love,” he said sagely.
“That’s nice.”
“Like Tyler,” he said.
“Oh, Davey. I know...what you did was very manipulative, and yet...”
He grinned. “I think that’s better than devious!”
“Well, anyway, it’s good that Tyler is here. For now. But please don’t count on forever, okay?”
But Davey shook his head. “Forever,” he said.
“I think I’m going to go and see if I can help your mom. I got here in time for brunch. Cool, huh? You like being here, right?”
“I’m okay,” he said.
He was looking at his screen again. She didn’t know if he was trying to communicate with his girlfriend or if he was studying movies—looking up actors and directors.
At the doorway she paused, glancing back at him. “Tell Megan I said hi, okay?”
“I will. I’m not talking to Megan right now.”
“What are you doing?”
He looked up at her, a strange expression on his face.
It wasn’t mean. Davey didn’t have a mean bone in his body, and in a thousand years he would never purposely hurt anyone.
“Davey?”
He smiled then, his charming little smile. “Research!” he told her.
“On?”
“On...whatever I find!”
“Ah. Well, breakfast—I mean brunch!—soon.”
She left him and headed out to help her aunt. She wondered, even then, if she shouldn’t check out just what he was researching on his computer.
* * *
IF HE’D BEEN going to burst in on someone other than the killer he was trying to catch, Tyler had at least chosen the right person.
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