by Rita Herron
“That whoever is taking or hurting these young women targeted your residents, specifically ones who attended Canyon High.”
Except that Carly and Denise hadn’t.
What the hell was going on?
* * *
JUSTIN’S WORDS REVERBERATED over and over in Amanda’s head. “You’re right, but at least two of the victims didn’t go to the high school.”
“They must have crossed paths with the perpetrator when they lived in the town though, enough for the killer to track them down.”
She’d looked at each victims’ past boyfriends, girlfriends and family problems, even issues at a job where the women could have made enemies, but found nothing to link them.
Still, she couldn’t deny the truth—they had a serial kidnapper/killer in Sunset Mesa.
Were all the victims dead?
Whoever it was could be holding some of them hostage. But why? If he didn’t want sex, what was his motive?
It could be a woman.
Although the percentage of women serial killers was so small that that scenario wasn’t likely. But it was possible.
So far, they hadn’t had a single person come forward claiming to have seen one of the abductions.
The person who’d taken Kelly had been smart and used texts to lure her to an isolated area. Maybe he’d done that with the others, as well. But he would have had to send the text as someone the girls trusted.
“The high school ring in her hand,” Amanda said, thinking out loud. “That must be significant. Most of us stopped wearing them once we went to college.”
“Right. That’s normal.”
“Kelly and Raymond planned the wedding shortly after the reunion so old friends could attend.” Amanda’s stomach roiled. “And with everyone coming back into town, that means the killer might be looking for another victim now.”
* * *
SUZY TURNER HAD to die next.
She had been nothing but a two-faced, lying slut. Had stolen other girls’ boyfriends and lied to her friends’ faces. She’d worn short skirts to show off her long legs and tops that were three sizes too small and dipped down to her navel so all the guys would be drawn to her chest.
Yes, she had wanted attention, had craved having a trail of guys lusting after her and she’d teased them unmercifully, then made fools out of them so everyone in school would know.
The teenagers these days, the bullies, often showed up at school with guns and wiped innocents out while they exacted their revenge on the guilty and the ones who stood by and let it all come to pass.
But that wasn’t the plan here. The plan was to eliminate the ones who’d been cruel. The ones who’d humiliated the geeks and nerds, the guys who hadn’t been born with muscles and impeccable looks.
Yes, Suzy had been a bad, bad girl.
The door to her house stood open. She had a pool in back. She was out there now, skinny-dipping as if she didn’t have a care in the world.
Little did she know that it would be her last swim.
Tonight she would say goodbye to her pitiful life. And all the world would be better that she was gone.
Chapter Seven
Justin didn’t like the direction of his thoughts.
He jumped into his vehicle, antsy with the latest revelations. If someone was targeting young women from Sunset Mesa, especially ones around Amanda’s age, then she might be in danger.
They needed to figure out the suspect’s motive. Were there specific women being targeted or were all of the women who’d attended the local school in jeopardy?
For God’s sake, with the reunion in less than a week, the kidnapper/killer could be stalking his next victim. And if that was the case, they would be hearing about another missing woman—or finding another body—soon.
He couldn’t let Amanda out of his sight.
But if the unsub was targeting specific females from Canyon High, they needed to figure out the reason he was choosing those particular victims.
“We need to look at all the victims again, detail everything we know about them and see if there’s a pattern. If they fit a type.”
“They were all popular, well-liked cheerleaders, on the dance team, or color guard.” Amanda frowned as she buckled her seat belt.
“So our killer doesn’t like cheerleaders or dancers? That seems thin.” Justin tapped his foot. “Was there any one male or female who hated all of them for some reason?”
“Not that I can think of. Of course there were typical girl rivalries but nothing that stands out.”
“Like the bus accident in Camden Crossing?”
“Exactly. That incident changed the town. There were a lot of angry parents and friends. No one suspected that the soccer coach had been sexually harassing and assaulting the girls on his team.”
Justin contemplated her statement as he veered onto the road leading to the apartment complex where Sumter lived. “How about any parties where things went wrong? Drugs? Kids getting arrested? A boy accused of rape by one of the girls?”
Amanda rubbed her temple. “I don’t remember anything like that.”
She fell silent for a moment, her brow furrowed.
“What?” he asked.
“Now that I think about it, there were two things that happened. Donald Reisling had a bad car accident his junior year and has been in a wheelchair ever since.”
“What happened?”
“He was supposedly driving drunk, but there were rumors that his girlfriend at the time was behind the wheel, and that he covered for her.”
“What happened to the girl?”
“She moved away after college, but I saw that she’d RSVP’d that she planned to attend the reunion.”
“What about Donald?”
“He was pretty broken up. His family was irate. They tried to prove the girl was behind the wheel, but her father hired a fancy lawyer and the case was dismissed.” Amanda pointed to a sign indicating the turnoff for the complex. The area was rundown, the concrete building outdated.
Odd for a man who was supposedly a builder himself.
“Donald’s in a wheelchair, paralyzed from the waist down. There’s no way he’s strong enough or physically able to kidnap and kill anyone, then dispose of their bodies without someone noticing.”
Justin turned into the parking lot, spotting a few battered cars, a black dusty Jeep, a Land Rover and a few pickup trucks holding supplies, obviously used for work.
“Unless he has a partner.”
Amanda’s eyes widened. “I suppose that’s possible.”
“What about his family? They have to harbor ill feelings about the court decision.”
Amanda seemed to stew over that suggestion. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him in years. But I know Donald’s father still lives outside Sunset Mesa.”
“And you said the old girlfriend is coming back for the reunion?”
Amanda sighed, sounding distressed. “Yes, her name is Lynn Faust. She’s on the committee that organized the dinner dance.”
Justin made a clicking sound with his teeth. “Maybe this reunion stirred up resentments. The father could be bitter that his son has spent the last few years in a wheelchair while this girl went on with her life. And now she’s throwing it in his face that she’s returned to dance at their reunion when he can’t even walk.”
“My God, you could be right. That might explain why Tina was left holding the class ring. But why kidnap or kill the others? Why not just go after the woman who ruined Donald’s life?”
“Perhaps Donald or his father’s resentment has grown, so he views all the victims as hurting Donald. After he was in the wheelchair, he probably didn’t get many dates.” Justin scraped a hand over his chin. “Lynn could be his endgame.”
Fear streaked Amanda’s face. “We need to warn her.”
Justin shook his head. “Let’s talk to the father first and test our theory. We don’t want to cause unfounded panic.”
She nodded although she fidgete
d, obviously still worried.
He veered into the parking space, rolled to a stop, then cut the engine. “You said there were two incidents.”
She shrugged. “The other was a suicide, a guy named Carlton Butts.”
“What happened?”
Guilt flashed in her eyes. “He was a friend of mine,” she admitted softly.
“You dated?”
“No. Nothing like that.” Amanda bit her bottom lip. “He was a smart kid, but a nerd,” she said. “I don’t mean that in an ugly way, but he was one of those kids who was teased a lot. I... We grew up together and hung out some because I wasn’t popular either.”
Justin’s gaze met hers. “I find that hard to believe, Amanda.”
The vulnerable look on her face moved something inside him. Could she not see how beautiful she was? That he was turned on by her tough, stubborn drive and intelligence?
* * *
“IT’S TRUE,” SHE SAID, hands clenched. “But the difference between me and Carlton was that he cared and I didn’t.” Her voice dropped to a pained whisper. “I should have realized how deeply his depression ran. But it was spring and I was caught up in softball and swim meets.”
A well of sadness and grief once again assaulted Amanda as she thought about Carlton. He was a classic case of a quiet kid with brains whose gangly body and glasses had caused him to be the butt of jokes from the testosterone-laden guys and silly teenage girls who’d treated him as if he was nothing.
Not that he was the only kid who’d been picked on. Which had made her wonder why he’d chosen suicide when he’d had a bright future and probably would have garnered college scholarships from more than one university.
“Amanda, his death wasn’t your fault.”
Justin’s gruff voice made her glance across the parking lot. She couldn’t look at him when she felt so raw. Exposed.
Guilty.
“Maybe not,” she said. “But I should have been a better friend.”
“I’m sure you were a good friend,” he said. “But none of us can really know what’s going on in another person’s head unless they tell us.”
She absorbed his words, knowing that on a rational level, they were true. But they still didn’t alleviate the regret that filled her soul.
“Is Carlton’s family still in town?”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “His mother is. But she’s not doing well. I think she has some kind of degenerative disease, bad rheumatoid arthritis. She has to use a walker to get around.”
“Any other family?”
“A brother. Actually, he and Carlton were fraternal twins, as different as night and day.”
“The brother was popular?”
“Yes. He was a wrestler so girls liked his body. He lives in a neighboring town.”
“Were he and his brother close?”
Amanda wrinkled her nose. “Not really. I always got the impression they didn’t get along, that Carlton’s brother was impatient with him. He wanted Carlton to stand up for himself.”
Justin narrowed his eyes. “Did the sheriff investigate the kid’s death to make sure it was a suicide?”
“Not really,” Amanda said. “Carlton’s brother was away at the time at a wrestling tournament. And Carlton left a suicide note so no one really questioned it.”
“Hmm. I’m still surprised there wasn’t an investigation.”
“I guess they had records from the shrink Carlton saw confirming his depression.”
Justin reached for the door. “All right. Let’s take it one step at a time. First Kelly Lambert’s ex. Then Fisher’s. Then we’ll question Donald Reisling and his father.”
Amanda climbed out, her nerves on edge. This case was even bigger than she’d first believed.
She just hoped they figured it out before anyone else died.
* * *
JUSTIN CHECKED HIS weapon to make sure it was secure and hidden beneath his jacket as he and Amanda walked up the sidewalk to Sumter’s apartment. All this time they’d wondered if the missing girls were connected and looked for a psychopath who simply liked to kidnap young women.
But now they might have a lead. If the kidnappings/kills were personally motivated, finding the original trigger was the key to stopping the crimes. With the upcoming reunion, the killer had a whole pool of victims at his fingertips.
Whoever it was obviously had a bone to pick with the women in Sunset Mesa and was making a point.
He glanced at Amanda as she knocked on the door to Sumter’s apartment. “Mr. Sumter, it’s Sheriff Blair and Sergeant Thorpe,” she yelled through the door. “We need to talk to you.”
Justin kept his eyes peeled around the outside of the string of units, searching for trouble. If Sumter knew they were asking questions and he was the perp, he might ambush them.
Or he might have gone into hiding.
There were dozens of places in the deserted area surrounding Sunset Mesa to lie low and stay off the grid.
They waited for several seconds; then Justin raised his fist and knocked louder. “Mr. Sumter, if you’re in there, answer the door.”
“Were you friends with this guy?” Justin asked.
Amanda shook her head no. “Terry and Kelly were tight their freshmen and sophomore years. He was a big jock, but he had a cocky attitude.” She gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Besides, by then I was more interested in the cases my father was working. I used to quiz him all the time.”
“What about your mother?”
Sadness flickered in her expressive eyes. “She left when I was fourteen. Said she couldn’t take wondering if he was coming home at night any longer.”
Justin understood that kind of worry, that marriage for lawmen was near impossible. The reason he’d avoided it altogether. No reason to put a woman or himself through the pain when things fell apart.
And things always fell apart.
“But what about you?” he asked. “Why didn’t she take you with her?”
A self-deprecating laugh rumbled from her throat. “She said she knew I’d choose Dad, and she wasn’t going to make me choose.” She shrugged. “Maybe she was right. I don’t know.”
“But you wanted them both,” he said, understanding. “Do you keep in touch with her?”
Her jaw tightened. “She remarried, has another family now.”
A wealth of hurt underscored her words, but he didn’t reply because shuffling sounded inside the condo. Feet pounded. Something slammed, like a window or a door.
Justin’s senses jumped to full alert.
“He’s trying to run,” he muttered.
He slammed his shoulder against the door, knocking the thin wooden frame askew. Then he pulled his gun and rushed in, Amanda behind him.
A noise from a back room made him jerk his head to the right, and he ran toward the bedroom. The window was opening, wind swirling through the room. He rushed to it and saw Sumter climbing into the bushes. “Stay here and look around. I’m going after him!”
Not bothering to wait for her response, he ran back through the den and outside. He veered around the side of the building, then saw a figure dive from the bushes below the window and take off toward the woods in back.
“This is Sergeant Thorpe, Sumter. Stop. I’m armed.” He sprang into motion and chased the man as he jumped a pile of trash in his backyard. “You’re not going to get away!” Justin shouted.
The man tripped over something and nearly fell, but caught himself, glanced back and continued to run. Justin picked up his pace and caught up with him within seconds. He jumped him from behind and threw the man to the ground.
“Get off of me, I haven’t done anything wrong,” Sumter growled.
“You ran,” Justin snapped. “That makes you look guilty.”
Sumter spit on the ground as Justin dragged him to a standing position and shoved him back toward the building. Sumter smelled like booze and cigarette smoke and cursed as Justin forced him back into the apartment.
A
manda stood in the den, her expression angry. At him or Sumter?
He didn’t have time to analyze it.
Justin shoved Sumter toward the couch, which was piled high with dirty laundry. The scruffy man collapsed on it with another round of expletives.
“You have no right to barge in here and harass me,” Sumter muttered.
“We have every right,” Justin said coldly.
Amanda crossed her arms and stepped in front of Sumter, staring down at him.
It made her look sexy as hell, but Justin refrained from commenting out loud.
“Why did you run, Terry?” Amanda asked.
“I thought you were a burglar,” Terry said sarcastically.
Justin shook his head. “We identified ourselves.”
“You know why we’re here,” Amanda said.
For a brief second, pain flashed in the man’s eyes, before a smirk replaced it. “Yeah, I know, Amanda. You think that you’re better than the rest of us now because you have that badge.”
Justin squared his shoulders, irritated at the sarcasm in Sumter’s tone.
He’d wondered if some of the younger people in town resented having one of their classmates assume the sheriff’s position.
“I am better than you, Terry, because I’m not a drunk,” Amanda countered.
He shot to his feet, rage seething from his every pore. “You bitch.”
Justin shoved him back down. “You make another move toward her and your butt will be in jail.”
Sumter made a low sound in his throat, then snapped his mouth shut.
“We have to ask you some questions about Kelly’s disappearance,” Amanda said calmly, showing no trace that his attitude affected her.
Sumter scowled at them, then scraped a hand through his already tousled dirty-blond hair. “I don’t know anything.”
Justin took a quick inventory of the inside of the apartment. It was just as rundown as the outside. Faded paint on the walls, worn furniture and stained carpet. The place reeked of cigarette smoke, stale beer and fast food.
A coffee cup filled with muddy sludge sat on the chipped coffee table and unwashed dishes filled the sink.
The man was not only a drunk but a slob.
“We heard that you wanted to get back with Kelly,” Justin cut in sharply.