“Why do you think that Todd is suicidal, Dr. Taylor?”
“As I mentioned over the phone, he has spoken in a joking manner about harming himself,” Marsha Taylor said, and then she smiled at Summer. “I’m so glad to see that you’ve taken my concerns seriously, and it’s a tribute to your character that you’ve traveled here to help Todd, despite the fact that you two are divorced. It shows me that not only are you a professional, but you’re also a good person.”
Summer returned the doctor’s smile with one of her own. This woman was perfect, and once Summer killed Todd by making it appear as if he had killed himself, Dr. Taylor would be a good witness and deflect any thoughts of murder.
“Yes, Todd and I have had our problems, but I would be sick if he ever hurt himself, and I’ll do everything I can to get him to seek professional help.”
Their server came over and the young man took their orders while promising to return shortly with their drinks. Although he tried not to, the young man stared at Summer more than once, while transfixed by her beauty. After he left the table, Dr. Taylor smiled.
“I wish young men still looked at me the way our waiter was looking at you.”
“They all look,” Summer said. “But none of them ever see me. But nevermind that, tell me more about Todd.”
“Please, don’t mention my name to Todd when you talk to him, he might construe my actions as betraying him.”
“It will be our secret,” Summer said, and she meant it. There was no need to mention the doctor’s concerns to Todd, but the police would hear about it once Todd was dead.
Dr. Taylor gave a little shake of her head.
“I really hope that I’m mistaken about Todd wanting to harm himself, but I can’t help having a feeling of dread where he’s concerned. He just seems so depressed at times, and he’s missed our last two sessions of therapy.”
“He did? Did he say why?”
“Yes, he asked me over the phone what was the point of keeping himself in shape now that he was a cripple? I tried to explain to him that in time he might walk again on a set of artificial legs, but he said that was worse than the wheelchair.”
“Todd was an athlete,” Summer said.
“Yes, but his life has changed and he needs to accept it and move forward. I can help him with that, but he just seems to want to give up.”
“Do you really believe that Todd might kill himself?” Summer asked.
Dr. Taylor nodded her head as a somber expression covered her face.
It was all Summer could do not to smile.
***
Edward clamped a hand over the girl’s mouth even as he jammed the ice pick into her side.
On screen, two cars crashed through the plate-glass window of a store and went racing off inside a crowded mall. The sounds of the improbable car chase cancelled out the girl’s muffled cries of pain, and no one saw her struggle, as the other patrons were seated closer to the front, and all eyes were glued to the screen.
The girl stopped moving when Edward jammed the ice pick into her eye, and when he released her, she slid from her seat and fell atop the floor.
Up on the screen, gunshots rang out as the men driving the muscle cars began firing at each other, while screaming mall patrons dived for cover.
Edward did his own diving, as he dropped to the sticky floor of the theater and yanked the panties off the girl he had just killed. The ice pick was still stuck in her eye, and although he couldn’t hear it over the blaring of the movie’s soundtrack, he was certain that it made a sucking noise as it left her punctured eye.
After wiping pieces of the poor girl’s brain off on her skirt, Edward stayed low and headed for the end of the aisle, where he would make it to the lobby, and the parking lot beyond.
On his way out of the theater, he passed the companion of the girl he had just killed, as she rushed back to her seat after taking a bathroom break. He would have loved to see the look of horror on her face when she found her friend, but there was no time.
Edward pushed a gloved hand against the lobby door, as inside the theater the girl began screaming. A minute later, the Times Square Stalker was on a crosstown bus and giggling with glee.
CHAPTER 10
After Assistant DA Haskins watched the ambulance drive away with the body of the Times Square Stalker’s fifth victim, he turned his attention to Jessica and her husband.
“The victim’s name was Kimberly Stonewell... she was only sixteen.”
Jessica let out a sad sigh and then asked a question.
“There must be video surveillance inside the theater lobby, yes?”
“There is, and the police are gathering it now. On the positive side, this lets Michael Hobbs off the hook. As soon as we’re certain this was the Stalker’s work, I’ll see that Hobbs is released.”
Jessica and her husband went inside and studied the scene, but other than a bloodstain that had run along and extended beneath several rows of seats, there was nothing else to see.
The crime scene technicians were busy at work gathering fingerprints and anything else that might prove pertinent to the murder, as detectives questioned the other patrons and the employees of the theater.
As they were leaving, several reporters shouted questions at Jessica, she told them that she had no comment to make and climbed into the rear of DA Haskins’ car, where she spoke to her husband.
“I’m more certain than ever that the killer is a young male. He’s living inside a fantasy world and the rate of murders will escalate.”
“How bad do you think it will get?” he asked.
“He may explode if something or someone rubs him the wrong way, and if that happens, he’ll just kill and kill again, until someone stops him.”
“Do you have undercover officers working the area?” Mr. White asked Haskins.
“We do, but it’s a big area and they can’t be everywhere.”
“When we get back to the station I want to see all the video that has anything to do with the murders, especially this latest murder,” Jessica said.
“I’ll have that for you, and in the meantime, would you like to view the other crime scenes?”
“Yes, that’s an excellent idea, and Mr. Haskins?”
“Yes?”
“The other girl, the one that found her friend, is she all right?”
“She had to be sedated, and the victim wasn’t her friend, she was her little sister.”
“Oh God.”
“Yeah,” Haskins said.
***
Upon his release, Michael Hobbs went straight to the Press, who were gathered outside the station house. He blasted the Manhattan DA’s office for arresting him and harming his reputation.
He was standing near the curb in front of the police station and there were over a dozen reporters and camera people there to see him.
“They had absolutely no proof that I had anything to do with those murders and still they locked me up. I got fired because of this and they made people believe I was a killer. Hey, I’m no saint, but do I seem like the sort of psycho who would go around stabbing women? The DA was just looking to take the heat off his buddy the mayor, and he used me to do it.”
One of the reporters shouted a question.
“Do you blame the mayor for your arrest?”
“No, I blame the DA, but we all know that he’s in tight with the mayor, and all that bum is worried about is getting re-elected so that he can move on someday to be governor.”
A few of the reporters laughed and Hobbs seemed to relax. He put an arm around Bev.
“Listen, I’ve got to find a new job because my wife is having a baby soon. I just hope that the next guy they lock up is really the nutball who’s been killing these girls. I also hope the cops blast his ass into next week, the sick bastard.”
The impromptu press conference was live and being held on a Friday night. A good number of his fellow New Yorkers saw Hobbs’ anger over losing his job and being held in a jail cell. With
in hours, he was a YouTube celebrity, and the nightly news shows were debating the DA’s integrity.
A well-known real estate entrepreneur heard Hobbs remarks and offered him a job as a building superintendent making twice as much as he had been earning.
It was a wonderful break for Hobbs and his wife, Bev, while his benefactor profited by the good publicity, as the man had recently announced his plans to run for mayor.
Jessica and her husband met with Hobbs and his wife before viewing the video from the crime scenes, and Hobbs offered his hand.
“When are the DNA results due?”
“Any day now,” White said, as he shook Hobbs hand.
Hobbs smiled at him.
“Wow, it will be weird to have a brother.”
“I know what you mean, and good luck with the new job.”
“If we are brothers, what then?”
The question seemed to perplex Mr. White, and he answered with an uncharacteristic shrug.
“I guess we’ll find out.”
The two couples said goodbye, and then Jessica and her husband went to work, as they tried to catch a killer.
CHAPTER 11
It was after ten p.m. by the time they had gone through all the video that had a connection to the Times Square Stalker murders.
Most of it was worthless, but the video captured at the movie theater had caught Edward Frankel on camera.
It showed an average-sized individual dressed in a long raincoat and wearing a floppy hat. Video enhancement determined that the coat was the type that was two-sided, and it was theorized that after killing his latest victim, the Times Square Stalker turned his coat inside out to hide the bloodstains.
“The police are withholding the information about the victim’s missing panties, aren’t they?” Jessica’s husband asked.
“Yes, and the choice of taking panties as a trophy of the slayings makes me even more certain that were dealing with a juvenile mind.”
Mr. White looked at his watch and made a face.
“Damn it. I meant to call home earlier.”
“I did it while you went out for food. Everything’s fine, but the kids were asleep already. Jimmy and Reina took Emma and Liam to the zoo and it tired them out so much that Amanda put the kids to bed early.”
“I think your brother has matured since meeting Reina.”
“He has, and I can’t wait until they get married.”
“Maybe we’ll be adding Michael Hobbs’ name to the guests list.”
Jessica was seated beside her husband at the conference table inside the police station; she turned in her seat and took his hands in hers.
“Did you feel a connection with Hobbs; do you think he’s your brother?”
“All I felt was relief that he wasn’t a killer, but I do like him and think he’s a decent man.”
“When we’re finished here, we’ll go meet the other two men, Michael Wheeler and Michael Storm.”
“Of the three of them, Wheeler seems the most likely, or maybe that’s just wishful thinking because he seems so grounded.”
“He has a teenage daughter as well, which means that you may have a niece.”
After speaking, Jessica let out a great yawn.
Her husband stood and pulled her along.
“I think we both need some sleep.”
“All right, but I was so hoping to find something in the video that might lead to the Stalker’s capture. He’ll kill again, and if I had to bet, I would say that he would do it in a matter of hours, not days.”
***
On Park Avenue, Edward Frankel stared down at the body of his mother.
Deanna DeMornay was lying on her back with multiple stab wounds across her torso, arms, hands, and face. Jutting from her mouth was a carving knife her son had jammed there.
He had returned home to find her watching television in the living room. She greeted him with a sweet smile, and then followed him down the hall to his bedroom.
When Edward opened the door to his room, he felt as if he had stepped into an alternate universe.
The room was empty, stripped right to the bare walls.
Edward had walked into the middle of the room and spun around with his mouth agape. When the worst of the shock passed, he stared at his mother with a look of pure hate.
“Where are my things?”
“Gone, all of it, even your damn car, and you can leave too. I told you that I wanted you out of here. Now you know I meant business.”
Edward had glared at her for several seconds, and during that time, a red haze came over his vision.
Deanna must have seen something change in his face, because she turned to run away.
Edward caught her near the sofa in the living room and grabbed her hair. That caused his mother to cry out in pain and stop running.
When Deanna turned to strike Edward, he punched her in the face and broke her nose. The impact had also weakened her knees and sent her to the floor. After pulling herself up until she was perched on the edge of a sofa, Deanna bent her head back and held a wad of tissues to her face, in an attempt to stop the flow of blood running from her damaged nose.
When she realized that Edward was no longer in the room, she began to hope that he had left the apartment.
But then she heard the rapid footfalls coming up behind her, the plush carpeting having muted them until Edward had grown near, and before Deanna could turn to look at him, Edward had buried the carving knife three inches into her back.
After hacking away at his mother an additional sixty-seven times, Edward buried the blade in her mouth and stared down at his dead mother for long minutes.
Edward’s trance was broken when he heard someone on the TV mention the Times Square Stalker. When he looked up at the screen, he watched Michael Hobbs as the news station played a clip from his press conference.
When Hobbs referred to the Times Square Stalker as a nutball, Edward scowled at the television, but then his mouth dropped open in shock when he realized that his mother hadn’t just gotten rid of his belongings, but also the evidence of his crimes.
Most of the dead girls’ panties had been kept in a lockbox beneath his bed.
It was the type of gray metal box that normally held petty cash. Wherever it was, it wouldn’t be long until someone decided to force it open and look inside.
Edward then wondered if his mother had found it first and held on to it, and he began searching the apartment. And as he moved about searching for the box, he tracked his mother’s blood throughout the home.
CHAPTER 12
Amanda woke just as dawn was lighting the sky and found herself alone in bed.
When she went looking for him, she found Jessica’s father in his home office. He was sitting on the floor near the closet in his bathrobe and reading an old journal. The closet door was open, and there were boxes scattered about with papers and other journals heaped in piles atop his desk.
“James, what are you doing?”
The doctor’s head shot up in surprise at hearing her voice, and then he looked worried.
“Did I wake the house? I was trying to be quiet.”
“No, everyone else is still asleep, but when I woke and didn’t find you next to me, I went looking for you. What are you doing?”
The doctor rose to his feet with a grunt of pain as his knees cracked loudly. After stretching to get a kink out of his back, he walked over to Amanda while holding up the journal he’d been reading.
“I’ve been looking for this. I racked my brain all day yesterday trying to figure out where I might have met Summer Gray before, but I came up empty. Then, I woke an hour ago with a memory in my mind, and I think I realized where I had met her before.”
“So you do know her?”
“Not really, but I did meet her when she was a child. There’s an entry in this old journal that mentions a girl named Summer, Summer Kressley.”
Amanda took the doctor by the hand and led him over to the sofa, where they sat toge
ther.
“In what context did you know her?”
“It was an incident that took place while I was consulting on another matter, and it concerned a young girl named Summer Kressley. I went online and discovered that Kressley was Summer Gray’s maiden name.”
“What was the incident about?” Amanda asked.
“Young Summer was friends with a teenage boy, and her father and some of the people in the area thought that the boy was a predator.”
“Oh no, was the boy molesting her?”
“No, they were just good friends, but I recommended that they be kept apart. The girl’s father was furious with the boy, and for the boy’s safety I thought that they should avoid contact.”
“I see your reasoning, but if they were close friends it must have broken Summer’s heart to lose him.”
“Yes, and I guess she still blames me, but... there’s more.”
“What do you mean?”
The doctor held open the journal and pointed at a page.
“Read that, it’s the boy’s name.”
Amanda did, and what she read made her gasp.
“His name was Michael Storm?”
“Yes, and that means he may be your son.”
“Was he adopted?”
The doctor sighed.
“This all happened many years ago, and because it wasn’t a formal case and he wasn’t a patient I don’t have detailed notes, but it seems to me that I recall someone saying he was adopted, I think that was one reason that people were untrusting of him, as senseless as that reasoning was.”
Amanda whispered something, and Dr. White wasn’t sure if he heard her correctly.
“Repeat that please.”
“I said he’s my son; I grow more certain of it every time I look at his picture.”
“All right, but you really can’t be certain.”
“No, I suppose not, but it’s how I feel.”
“I’ll call Jessica later and let her know what I’ve uncovered. Now she’ll know why Summer dislikes her, and that it’s my fault.”
Amanda kissed him.
“You only did what you thought was best for Summer when she was a girl, and you may have kept Michael Storm from being harmed.”
The TAKEN! Series - Books 13-16 (Taken! Box Set Book 4) Page 51