by Debra Webb
Lynda, realizing the same, glanced at Sarah's Converses. "I think maybe you should stay out here."
"What size do you wear?" Sarah glanced at her waterproof snow boots. "Seven, but—"
"I wear an eight, but sometimes a seven works." Sarah sat on the closest boulder. "Let me give it a try."
"Eight's Jerri Lynn's size." Lynda tugged off a boot. "Occasionally we can wear the same shoe." She pulled the second one free. "In fact, we both have these boots and sometimes we get them mixed up."
With effort, Sarah pulled the boots on. Snug, but bearable. "This'll work. You stay here and I'll check it out."
"It's been a long time, but I've been in there before," Lynda argued.
"No offense," Sarah insisted, "but your husband seemed worried about you out here. Let me do this. I'm experienced at this sort of thing."
Lynda sighed impatiently but eased down on a big rock of her own. "He worries too much. This isn't the first time my specialist has changed my medication. Jerald frets every time as if it's the end of the world."
Sounded serious to Sarah since she didn't take Jerald Pope as one to worry unnecessarily. Would a man who cared so for his wife and daughter be capable of such heinous murders? Others had. Sarah shook off the thought, turned her full attention on Lynda Pope. "If you don't mind my asking, why do you need medication?"
"It's nothing. Lots of women are affected."
They traded footwear.
"Mitral valve prolapse," Lynda explained. "I was diagnosed a couple of years ago. It's a little more complicated than the usual case. I've been on several different medications over the years, but I'm fine. Really." She tugged on a Converse. "It flares up now and again, particularly if I'm under stress."
Heart condition. Sarah rode out the adrenaline charge, careful not to let the tension show. "What do they give you for that?"
"Last time"—Lynda pulled on the other Converse—"it was propranolol. This time something new." She frowned. "I can't recall the name of it. I just got it two days ago. I haven't even filled the prescription yet." Her gaze collided with Sarah's. "Don't say anything. Jerald would not be pleased if he knew I'd left Bangor without getting it filled."
"Bangor?" Sarah controlled her breathing though her heart rate had sped up.
"That's where I go to see my specialist." Lynda smiled. "Stephen King lives there, you know."
Sarah nodded then stood, couldn't wait to get started. The sooner they covered their sector, the sooner she could find Kale. "You wait here. I'll be back as soon as I've checked things out."
Lynda stood. "No hurry. I'll be waiting."
Sarah resisted the impulse to reach for her cell and call Kale with the news about Lynda Pope's medication. Sarah had to do this right. Polly could be here…
As Sarah turned her back, the hair on her neck lifted.
Was she turning her back on a killer?
Or a killer's wife?
CHAPTER 34
Public Safety Office, 9:30 P.M.
Kale was the last to return from the search.
He parked on the street and trudged toward the front entrance.
"Mr. Conner!"
Three reporters, cameramen on their heels, rushed toward him.
He glared at each one. "Don't even think about it."
As he pushed past them, headed for the door, one shouted at his back. "How does it feel to know your sister could be the next victim?"
Kale whipped around, charged up to the guy and decked him.
Shouts accompanied the crowd's withdrawal.
"Come on, Kale."
Two deputies dragged him inside.
"What'd you come that way for?" Charles Collins asked. "You knew they were out there."
Kale glared at the deputy, shook loose of the man's hold, "Leave me alone."
"Sure, man."
Both deputies backed off.
Kale headed for the chief's office. Every damned body in his path stopped and stared.
He didn't want to hear their words of sympathy. He didn't want anything… but to find his sister.
In the chief's office, the mayor and the fed were waiting.
The grim expression on the chief's as well as the mayor's face brought him up short.
"What?" He braced. Knew it was bad. Had they found…
"Sit down, Kale," the chief suggested.
"Fucking tell me," Kale snapped. It was all he could do not to grab the man and shake the hell out of him.
The fed closed the door.
Kale cut him a lethal look.
"Mr. Conner, you need to sit down." When Kale didn't do as he said, he added, "Now."
Defeat drained the fight out of him. Kale dropped into the nearest chair.
He hadn't had the heart to call his parents before he came here. Because he'd come up empty-handed. They were counting on him to find her.
And he'd failed.
Goddamn it!
"Kale," the mayor began, "Marta Hanover is with your mother and her husband is with your father."
Kale's heart sank into his boots. He blinked to hold back the tears. "What the fuck is it you're telling me?" He looked from the mayor to the chief and back.
Agent August propped himself on the corner of the chief's desk since all the chairs were taken. "At five this evening a dozen roses were delivered to your parents' home, Mr. Conner."
Hours in the cold hadn't numbed him, but that revelation numbed Kale to the marrow of his bones.
"We now believe there is a connection between this delivery and those that came to the… others."
The wetness that tracked down Kale's face was the one thing he could feel. Hot, it burned his skin. "Where did they come from?" He didn't ask what the card said because he knew. Deepest regrets…
"A florist in Bangor. Two days ago, someone left the order in an envelope on the counter, cash enclosed. Unfortunately, the envelope was discarded."
So they couldn't figure out who left it. They couldn't do anything. Kale refused to accept it. "No one saw anyone? No store surveillance? None in the stores nearby maybe caught an entrance or exit?"
"I'm sorry." August said. "There's nothing. Except…" The man's gaze bored in Kale's. "Since the order was left to deliver the roses to your parents' home two days ago, we know that your sister was on his list already."
Kale's heart stumbled.
His sister was going to die.
Soon.
Agony twisted his insides as his mind replayed what he'd seen that morning when he and the chief had found Valerie Gerard.
"As if that isn't bad enough," the chief said, his voice lacking any emotion, "Rachel Appleton went and hung her- self this morning. She waited until after the boys left for school. Her husband came home for lunch and found her."
Jesus Christ. Kale wanted to scream at God. To demand why he was allowing this to happen.
The door flew open and Sarah burst in.
Deputy Brighton was close behind. "I'm sorry, Chief, I couldn't stop her."
Kale couldn't look at Sarah. He knew what he would see.
Pity. Certainty.
"It's all right, Karen." The chief shook his head. "Just close the door."
Karen did as the chief asked.
Sarah jerked off one of the boots she wore. "Check this against the boot imprint you found at the Appleton murder scene." She yanked off the other one. "They belong to Lynda Pope. She takes propranonol."
"How did you come by these?" August picked up the first boot she'd shed. Studied it, though his face said he'd rather not touch it.
"Doesn't matter," Sarah insisted. "Just do it." She was out of breath as if she'd run a long ways.
For the first time since she'd entered the room she looked at Kale. He couldn't meet her gaze.
While August inspected the boot, the chief said, "Ms. Newton, we have four others here in Youngstown who are currently taking that drug and who knew the… girls. We're aware that Ms. Pope is one of them. The others are the Reverend Mahaney and Mart
a Hanover, Geneva Williams and Loretta Steele. Each of those persons has an airtight alibi for the times the victims went missing. Not to mention one of those five wouldn't be physically capable of carrying out the abduction."
"You've talked to Lynda Pope?" Sarah demanded.
"I talked to her half an hour ago. She'd just arrived home from the search."
Sarah shook her head. "I left her house not more than half an hour ago."
August nodded. "When we arrived she mentioned that her husband was taking you back to the gym." He tapped the boot. "By the way, these aren't a size eight."
"You saw me wearing it, didn't you?" she argued. "You know that sizes can vary."
Kale couldn't take this anymore. He had to do something.
He was on his feet without any idea how he'd gotten there. "I've got to get back out there."
"Now just a minute, son." The chief pushed out of his chair and came around to where Kale stood. "The snow's started falling hard again and the temperature has dropped to well under thirty degrees. You can't go back out there. The best thing you can do is get home and see to your folks."
All the emotions that had drained from Kale suddenly erupted anew. "Are you out of your mind, Chief? I have to find my sister. This bastard is going to…" He couldn't say it. Couldn't make his lips form the words.
"Check the boot," Sarah demanded. "I don't give a shit what kind of alibi she has. Check the fucking boot."
Kale couldn't listen to any more of this. He jerked the door open and walked out.
Those same faces, faces he knew, stared at him as he strode to the rear entrance. Voices spoke to him but he didn't listen. He just kept walking.
He had to do something.
He couldn't just go home… without his sister.
He pushed out the back door, stormed across the parking lot.
"Kale!"
He didn't slow.
"Kale, goddamn it, stop!"
Sarah grabbed at his left arm, dragged him to a stop.
"Listen to me."
He glared at her. Shook off her touch.
"There's something…" She shook her head. "Something about the Popes. I can't explain it. I wasn't even sure what or who it was that kept giving me this feeling until today. Matilda said…" Sarah shook her head when he would have butted in, urged him to listen with her eyes. "You have to trust me. I know what I'm talking about. And I'm telling you it's one of them or maybe both."
He almost left her standing there. But the determination on her face… in her voice… made him hesitate.
The boots… his gaze dropped to her feet. She stood there, the snow halfway up to her knees.
Then he remembered she'd pulled the boots off in the chief's office.
She was barefoot except for the socks.
His gaze connected with hers. "You're crazy, Sarah Newton."
"Right now my shrink would probably agree with you."
She was going to get frostbite.
Before his one functioning brain cell kicked in, he acted on instinct.
He scooped her up and headed for his Jeep.
Right now nobody but Sarah seemed to have narrowed down a probable suspect. The others just kept looking for reasons to rule out suspects.
That left Kale with one choice.
Conduct his own interview.
Right after he conducted his own search.
He wasn't a cop.
He didn't need a search warrant.
Or an invitation.
CHAPTER 35
Polly raised her head.
The brush of something soft against the rock whispered in the air. A shoe? Or boot? Her body froze. Someone was coming. Oh, God!
Her mind told her to scream, but her throat wouldn't cooperate.
She was so cold.
Numb.
And alone.
Kale hadn't found her.
The police…
She was going to die.
Her head lolled to one side.
Why her?
She wasn't pretty or smart.
She was nobody.
Was it because she talked about the other girls?
A sob choked her.
She whimpered.
The rasp of soles was louder now.
Someone was here.
She lifted her face. Wished she could see.
Maybe she didn't want to see.
Please, please, God, help me. Let someone find me!
The rustle of fabric warned her that whoever was here had crouched next to her.
Fingers twisted in her hair.
She tried to scream. Couldn't.
"The gossip girl."
She shuddered at the cruel voice.
Had to be the devil… Matilda had warned her. She'd probably taken off last night to hide like she said she might. That had to be why she hadn't shown up to meet Polly.
A sob tore at her chest. She was going to die.
He put his face close to hers. She tried to draw away. Savage fingers stopped her with a harsh twist.
"You should think before you speak," he whispered close to her ear, the voice barely audible.
The sobs wouldn't stop. She choked and gagged but they just kept coming.
"But," the devil said, "I've decided to give you a second chance."
Quiet! Listen. What was it saying?
"I've decided to trade a gossip for a fraud."
The voice… it was… male, she was sure of it. A man?
No. She trembled It was the devil.
Oh, God.
"Don't you want that?"
What did he mean? Her body quaked and shuddered. She wanted to run away. To wake up and find out this was just a bad dream.
"You're a very lucky girl, Polly Gossip. A fraud is going to take your place."
He reached between her legs.
She tried to jerk away, tried to scream.
Something ripped.
Her hands were suddenly free from her feet. She tried to work them loose from each other. Couldn't.
"Be a good girl now," he warned.
She stilled. He hauled her to her feet. She stumbled.
Then he was pulling her, one arm wrapped around her neck. Her feet struggled to keep up but she kept falling against him.
Nausea roiled in her stomach.
Where was he taking her?
What did he mean?
Was he going to kill her now?
She could hear the water.
The waves crashed against the rock.
Air rushed all around her. The gentle spray of something wet hit her face.
She was outside.
Oh, God, she was outside!
Her heart fluttered. She wanted to cry out. She sucked in as much air as she could through her nose. Cold, salty.
Wait.
She inventoried her senses.
Where was he?
The arm was no longer locked around her neck.
She stumbled around, her legs like dead tree trunks.
Her hands shaking, she reached up to her face. Tape across her mouth. Something… cloth… over her eyes.
She whimpered… was afraid any second he would grab her again and tell her that he'd only been joking.
She took hold of the cloth over her eyes with the tips of her fingers and tugged at it. It moved. She pulled it free.
She blinked. Looked around.
The moon peeked from the clouds. The water rushed over the rocks.
Where was he?
She turned all the way around. Didn't see him.
Tears slid down her cheeks. She ripped the tape from her mouth. Cried out at the burn. The sound echoed, reminding her that she was alive.
She stared at her hands. They were taped together with silver tape.
She tried to pull them apart.
The caw of a crow pulled her gaze skyward.
What if he was coming back?
No!
She had to run.
Had to find help.
She had to get home.
Her mom would be worried.
She swiped at her eyes and scrambled up the cliffs.
Don't think. Just run.
Run for your life!
CHAPTER 36
Beauchamp Road, midnight
Sarah's cell phone had vibrated at least ten times in the last two hours. She ignored it.
"No one will find the Jeep here."
Kale had taken Sarah to his place where they'd prepared for their own search. Then he'd stopped by his parents' house and gotten a pair of his sister's boots for Sarah to wear. They were a size too large, but they worked.
"You ready?" he asked.
Sarah nodded. "Let's do it."
She and the Popes had searched the shoreline on either side of their house. That left their house, the extensive, rocky shore that separated it from the ocean, and the boathouse.
Getting into the house without getting caught would likely be impossible, but they were prepared for that as well. Sarah would distract the Popes while Kale searched.
Not a perfect plan but not one without some possibility of success.
"Shit." Kale reached into his coat pocket and checked his cell.
Like hers, his had buzzed a number of times. He'd stopped answering the last time the chief called to check on him.
"It's the chief again."
"You know what he wants." He wanted to ensure that Kale wasn't trying anything stupid.
Like this.
Kale stared at the screen of his phone. "He left a voice mail this time."
"Play it." If there was something new they needed to know about, they should be aware before taking this no-turning-back step.
Kale pushed the necessary buttons and set it on speaker.
"Kale, I don't know where you're at—I sent a deputy to your house."
"Great," he muttered.
"You need to come to Bay View Medical Center."
His gaze collided with Sarah's and even in the near darkness she saw the renewed terror.
"Your folks are there with your sister. She's okay, Kale. A little bruised up, but okay."
The words echoed inside the Jeep. Kale didn't move, just stared at her.
"She's okay. Kale," the chief's voice repeated. "He let her go."