by Debra Webb
Those last four words rang in Sarah's ears.
He let her go.
Public Safety Office, Thursday, March 5, 9:00 A.M.
"Settle down," the chief said. "We've got a lot to cover."
Sarah couldn't sit. She stood by Kale at the door. He, evidently, couldn't sit, either.
Polly was basically unharmed. She had a few scratches and bruises, emotionally she was a mess, but she was alive with no serious physical injuries and that was what mattered. Sarah had spent the last several hours at the hospital with her, Kale, and his family. Sarah had to admit that the community support had been something to see.
The Conner family treated her as if she was one of them.
That had felt surreal, still did.
She should be gone by now. But some part of her needed to see how this played out. For Matilda… for all involved.
Would anyone in this room pay attention to what Sarah had told them despite the revelations in Polly's statement? Time to find out.
"As you all know," the chief began, "Polly Conner is, thankfully, safe with her family." A round of applause and cheers broke out across the room. Those closest to Kale gave him a pat on the back or a hug. The chief held up his hands to quiet the ruckus. "We're all happier about that than any words can say."
Sarah was immensely happy, too, but there was a killer still out there. Get on with it, Chief.
"Our job now," he finally continued, "is to find this devil before he can grab another of our children."
Devil. The word reverberated through Sarah. Matilda had called the person responsible for the murders the devil. So had Polly, but she'd likely picked that up from Matilda. According to Polly, Matilda was supposed to have met her at the gym last night.
Exactly why they had to get on with this. Another of their children could be missing already. Matilda Calder. Or did no one here consider her one of their own?
"We've learned from Polly that the unknown subject, as Agent August here would call him"—the chief sent a nod of acknowledgment toward the fed—"is definitely male. The unknown subject indicated that he was releasing Polly because he was replacing her with a fraud. That means he still has names on his list."
Sarah resisted the impulse to shake her head. The unsub's decision to release Polly wasn't so cut-and-dried. The roses had been delivered. She was supposed to be dead.
Something had changed in the strategy. Did no one see that? Sarah knew killers as well as anyone in this room, better than most. Repeat killers didn't just change their minds and let victims go free. Polly's release was part of the strategy. They just didn't know what part yet.
August stepped forward. Sarah suppressed another urge, this one to roll her eyes. It would be thoroughly uninteresting to hear what he had to say.
"Our unsub is male, as we've confirmed; he's left basically no evidence."
Sarah's mouth gaped. What the hell? What about the boot print or the bleach, not to mention the fucking drugs? She shifted, unable to curb the need.
Kale glanced at her; she kept her attention focused straight ahead. She didn't want to miss a word of what this idiot had to say.
"I believe the minor trace evidence we'd found so far is nothing more than a ruse to keep us guessing."
This was outrageous. She crossed her arms over her chest, hoped like hell August noticed the disbelief written all over her face.
He called off a list of names of those who would begin a second sweep, now that it was daylight, of the area where Polly was found. A villager on his way home from a second-shift job had picked her up on the side of the road. August and the chief were going to reinterview certain persons of interest. Half a dozen other deputies were assigned the task of continuing to screen calls. Hundreds of tips had come in the past couple of days. Devil sightings. Those who'd seen the two dead girls roaming the cliffs. And plenty of others who just wanted to turn in the name of someone they were currently pissed at. The usual. But there was always the chance that something real would come in.
When the chief dismissed the group, Sarah made her way against the tide of those exiting to get to August.
She breached his personal space and demanded, "Are you serious? You're disregarding the evidence and going with this theory?"
He shouldered into his fancy trench coat. "Sarah, the girl said a man abducted her. We don't need to waste time looking for a woman when the evidence to suggest a woman was involved is circumstantial to say the least. And, most likely, is, as I said, a ruse to throw us off his scent."
"Circumstantial?" What the hell? "I gave you the boot. You have the impression of the print found. Are you saying they didn't match? This is no ruse, Lex."
"That imprint was found in a public place. The comparison between the boot you brought in and the imprint taken at the scene is inconclusive. Besides, there's no proof it was made by the unsub. The boots"—he tugged on his gloves— "are a common brand in this area. How many women do you suppose have those boots lying in their mudrooms?"
She wanted to punch the hell out of him. "What about the propranolol?"' There were only three women in the immediate area prescribed that drug; one of those just happened to own the boots Sarah had left with August.
"Drugs like that can be ordered on the Internet." August tugged a woolly cap in place. "You know that as well as I do. We're attempting to trace down shipments to this area. Anyone could have ordered it from Mexico or Canada. Again, that may be part of the game. Our unsub may want suspicion cast on someone in particular. Like Lynda Pope. Maybe someone is jealous of her. Have you considered that theory or are you simply going with your gut the way you always do?"
"Damn straight I'm going with my gut." That was the one thing she'd always been able to trust. Sarah understood the number of potential theories here. Absolutely. She also understood perfectly that, just like before, Lex had made his decision and he wasn't changing it.
Unless he was wrong.
Then he'd snag someone else's theory and pretend that was the one he'd really been following all along.
He shook his head but before he could walk away, which was another of his trademark maneuvers, she issued a warning. "Play it your way, Lex. And I'll play it mine."
She didn't give him time to caution her or to threaten to ban her from the investigation. She gave him her back and hit the door.
Sarah had almost made it to the front exit when Kale caught up with her. "What was that about?"
She didn't look at him. "The truth."
With Kale calling her name, she pushed her way out the exit and smack into the middle of the media frenzy outside.
Reporters rushed forward, as far as the barricade the chief had ordered erected would allow. Several shouted her name.
"What have the police learned from Polly Conner?" Sarah ignored the guy shouting the question and scanned the group for the lady who'd gotten in her face the other night. Blond Barbie. She pointed to her. "You!" Then she crooked her finger.
Blond Barbie plowed her way through the throng. Silence blanketed the assembly, microphones extended, cameras rolled.
"Whatever you hear from the others today, mark my word," Sarah said in a loud, clear voice, "the person responsible for these two tragic murders is female. She's out there and she's not finished yet. So keep your daughters at home. Don't let them out of your sight."
She elbowed her way through the reporters, ignoring the other questions shouted at her. She'd made it across the street to her car when a vehicle skidded to a stop not two feet away. "Get in."
She swung around, glared at Kale. "I'm happy as hell your sister is safe," Sarah said, not about to take any crap from him, either, "but they're wrong. Polly's alive because someone wants us to look in a certain direction. And the hell of it is, it's working." Her revelation to the reporters would let him know that it wasn't working, at least as far as Sarah was concerned.
Then Kale Conner did the last thing she would have expected. He climbed out of his car, grabbed her around the waist, a
nd basically tossed her into his Jeep. He thrust his torso through the open door, blocking her escape. "Scoot over."
Briefly she considered ramming the vehicle into drive and leaving him standing there. But she hated to leave him in the path of all those reporters headed their way. "Now," he growled.
And he wasn't the enemy. So she climbed over the console, ensuring her butt missed the gearshift.
He slid behind the wheel and barreled away before the crowd of reporters could completely surround his vehicle.
"Are you out of your mind?" he demanded.
"Maybe."
She snapped her seat belt into place and was more than a little thankful that the streets in the area were kept plowed and sanded regularly. With the way he was driving, he would be a danger to anyone in his path otherwise.
"You can't be certain it's a woman."
"They can't be certain it's a man."
"Polly said—"
"Give it a rest, Conner. I know what she said."
"August is right about the boot print, it could have belonged to anyone. The comparison was inconclusive."
Sarah banged her head against the headrest. "Okay, so the boot is circumstantial. Let's throw in the propranolol."
"She has an alibi," Kale countered, "and we can't connect her to the roses. The ones delivered to my parents' home were ordered at a shop in Bangor two days before she went missing."
Bangor? I just got it two days ago. Jerald would not be pleased if he knew I'd left Bangor without getting it filled.
"That's where she goes to the doctor."
Kale glanced at Sarah. "What?"
"Lynda Pope. She told me she goes to see a specialist in Bangor. When we were searching for your sister, she mentioned that she'd gotten a new prescription just two days before from her doctor in Bangor."
Kale stared straight ahead. Kept driving.
"Admit it," she demanded. "That's too many coincidences to be circumstantial."
"August has to know that's where her doctor is. They tracked down her prescription."
"Forget it!" It was like talking to a brick wall!
"Is it August?"
She turned to face him. "What?"
He braked for a stop and set those dark eyes on her. "Are you certain there isn't still something between the two of you? Is that why he has to be wrong? You need that conflict to prove something?"
She reached for the door handle. "I don't have to listen to this."
He punched the accelerator, earning a couple of horn blares for the move. "I'm not letting you out of my sight."
Her cell phone vibrated. She started to ignore it but decided that she'd rather ignore him. "Newton."
"So now you've pissed off the FBI." Her editor. "I don't have time for this, Tae." Had he seen the news clip already?
"Your former favorite fed called me." Well, that answered that question. "He threatened to have his director on my back if I didn't get you under control."
"Oh, yeah?" If he was about to insist she come back to New York, he could save his breath.
"Oh, yeah," Tae echoed. "I told him he could forget about it. I don't take orders from him or his director." Sarah smiled. "I'll try to stay out of his way."
"That would make life simpler." Yeah, yeah, she knew.
"I'd tell you to keep me updated on the changing situation but I guess I'll have to count on Fox News for that." She promised to do better and ended the call. "Is there still something between you and August?" That Kale had the audacity to repeat the question made her want to slug him.
"The only thing between Lex August and me is animosity."
"What exactly did he do?" Kale shrugged. "Besides being a complete asshole, I mean."
"He screwed up a case. Got an innocent man killed and then used my conclusions on the case as his own to cover his ass."
How could she have ever been that stupid? That fucking blind?
"You're not…" Kale began, "still in love with him?"
He didn't just ask that question? "Take me to the inn," She wasn't even responding to that ludicrous question.
"Is that a no?"
Fury blasted her nerve endings. "That's the mother of all nos, Conner."
"Good."
Good? Obviously he was suffering from some sort of post-traumatic stress syndrome over his sister's abduction. He damned sure wasn't making any sense.
"Is it okay if I stop by my office first?" He arrowed her a sidelong glance. "Unless you're pissed at me for asking such personal questions and want me out of your sight like right this minute."
Whatever. "Why not?" What else was she going to do? The cops wouldn't listen to her. Idiots.
She needed to think. To figure out a new strategy. One that would prove her theory. Anticipation filtered past her frustration. She'd made that announcement to the press; that should seriously piss off the killer. All she needed was to watch for the reaction.
Conner and Sons was a block off the harbor, in a back alley. The entrance was tucked between the rear exits of two restaurants. His office was bigger than Sarah had expected.
A young woman, one who looked around the same age as Kale, sat behind the reception desk. "Hey, Kale, I didn't expect to see you today." She smiled a big, shiny-lipped smile. Her eyes went huge with admiration.
He had himself an admirer. Something along the lines of jealousy pricked Sarah. She refused to acknowledge it.
Anyway, the receptionist looked like perfect wife material.
That Sarah's mouth automatically formed a frown at the thought irritated her all the more.
"Christine, this is Sarah Newton."
"Oh, yeah." Christine stuck out her hand. "I saw you on the news a few minutes ago. You look so young on TV."
Sarah gave her hand a quick shake. Opted to take the comment as a compliment. "Thanks."
"I just have to check on a couple of things and I'm off."
Christine gave Kale a big puppy-dog look. "I'm so thankful Polly's okay. I had everyone I know praying so hard."
"Thanks. We appreciate that."
Sarah followed him to his office. "I'm surprised she hasn't hooked and reeled you in already."
He pushed the door shut. "What?"
Sarah jerked her head toward the door. "Christine. She's clearly mad about you."
Kale laughed as he riffled through his messages. "Sure."
Did he not see it? Whatever. Not her business.
As she scanned the numerous photos of him and his father and their crew hanging on the walls, an idea occurred to her. "You could take me for a ride in one of your boats." The inspiration gained momentum even as she spoke.
"If you want. It's pretty damned chilly out there, though."
From the water they should be able to see every cave close to the Pope property, as well as the boathouse and the main house. "I want." She reached for the door. "Hurry up."
"You mean now?"
She nodded. "There's a murderer out there, in case you've forgotten. I want to study the shoreline for any caves we might have missed." She would tell him what she really wanted to do once they were in the water.
He tossed his messages onto his desk. "The chief made me promise I'd keep you out of trouble."
Nothing she hadn't expected. "What's the problem? I just want a tour of the shoreline from the water."
"You will tell me what you're really up to before you actually do it, right?" Those dark eyes nailed hers. She faked a smile. "You have my word." After that Sarah wanted to stop by Matilda's house and find out if her mother had seen her. As certain as Sarah was that Matilda was extremely capable of taking care of herself, probably had been doing it her whole life, she still worried about the kid.
Right now Sarah had to see which domino was going to fall.
11:30 A.M.
"So no one comes out here in the winter?"
"Hardly ever. The owner is a summer resident." They'd decided to stop by Matilda's house first and gotten nothing from her no-good mother. Then Kale
had taken Sarah on a tour of the shoreline from one end of the village city limits to the other. He'd pointed out the caves and assured her that each one had been searched. The one where Polly had been held was marked as a crime scene and techs and deputies were still milling about. Sarah had waited patiently through the tour before revealing her true agenda to Kale.
The small island they'd docked at provided the perfect view of the waterfront side of the Pope property.
Sarah reached for her binoculars then dropped her bag onto the porch. She studied the house, zeroing in on each massive window, one at a time.
The family appeared to be home. No company. No evidence that they were packing for a hasty retreat.
Could Lynda Pope carry such a burning hatred that she would kill two innocent young women? Was her husband helping her? Or was he the killer and hoped to point suspicion in her direction? What was the motive? Sure, envy drove people to commit heinous acts at times. But these were people who had it all. Was the thrill gone now? Was this an attempt at infusing excitement into their lives and relationship? Or was getting even for the few things their one beloved offspring hadn't attained in life the goal? Maybe he just wanted rid of his wife.
Matilda had a feeling about him… but did that carry any real significance?
Sarah couldn't prove anything. It was just a hunch. A gut instinct that the people inside that house were somehow responsible for the murders.
"You know," Kale said, moving up behind her, "once I knew my sister was safe, I had this overwhelming craving." He fit his body snugly against Sarah's backside.
She lowered the binoculars, her senses instantly going into a whole new zone. His pelvis nestled firmly against her lower back. Even with the fullness of her coat separating them she could feel how hard he was. Her nostrils flared with a sharp intake of breath.
"You're distracting me," she said, her voice, already husky with lust, reflecting just how much. "Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah."
He leaned down, nipped her earlobe with his teeth. She shivered. "For chocolate or ice cream or something like that?"
His gloves hit the floor, then his hands slid around to rest on her hips. "No. Not that kind of craving." One of those wicked hands reached up and took her binoculars, set them carefully on the wide railing that encircled the porch. "I see." She breathed the words.