by Unknown
“We might have to paint the nursery blue,” Dan teased.
“And we might not,” Jess countered. The room was a soft shade of pink with pastel green accents. Little girls should have pink rooms, so said Lily anyway.
When a photo of the patio with its outdoor kitchen appeared on the screen, Dan let loose with a long low whistle. “Now that’s what I call a grill station.”
Jess had no idea why men appeared to love going outside in ninety-five degree heat to stand over a blazing grill. It was far too easy to go to Logan’s or Outback where the steaks were grilled in an air-conditioned kitchen. “There’s a screened porch, too.” That was her favorite outdoor space. Mosquitos were a nuisance in the south.
They moved through the photos of the other two houses, discussing pros and cons about each. By the time they were finished, they had moved to the sofa.
“We should tour these three,” Dan suggested.
“I’ll work in the appointments as soon as possible.” The realtor had given Jess a warning about how swiftly properties moved in the Mountain Brook area. They needed to act quickly. This baby was coming in April. Buying a house, making it their own, and settling in was a big job. She absolutely did not want to be nearing her due date, working, and trying to move all at the same time. She’d heeded the many warnings from her sister as well as from the books she’d been reading.
“Why don’t we shoot for tomorrow?” Dan closed the laptop. “If you’re free.”
Though it would be Sunday, realtors worked seven days a week—so said Ms. Wolfe anyway. Jess and her team were still attempting to piece together the evidence the reverend had left behind, but she could spare a few hours. “I’ll send the realtor a text and see how her schedule looks.”
“We could have a nice lunch and enjoy a rare day off.” He traced her cheek with the tip of his finger. “In a few months we won’t be just a couple anymore. We’ll be a family with another person’s wants and needs to consider.”
Jess’s heart beat a little faster at the idea. She’d decided ages ago there wouldn’t be any children for her. Her one brief marriage hadn’t worked out. She and her ex had ended up where they’d started—as friends. Dan had been a world away with three short marriages behind him. Jess had adjusted to the idea that she would be happy as a career woman and she’d prepared for that path. Then she’d come back here and everything had changed. They had both realized that their marriages had failed because they had never stopped loving each other—not in twenty years.
She smiled. She was so glad she’d come home. Her arms went around his neck. “I was thinking that we could take the puppy for a stroll and then we could close him up in the bathroom for a little privacy. If we turn the music loud enough he might not bark at all.” Wishful thinking.
“How about we take the puppy for a walk and then we go for a ride? I know a couple of really cool make-out spots we frequented back in the day.”
Memories of all the places they’d made love as crazy teenagers had her feeling giddy. “I like your plan much better.”
“I’ll get the leash.”
Jess grabbed her shoes and watched as Dan prepared the puppy for a walk. He was going to be a great father.
7
Autumn Lane, 11:55 p.m.
Eric Spears paced back and forth. The dingy warehouse was beneath him. Far beneath him. This was completely unacceptable.
A single bare bulb glowed overhead. His tools were reduced to several rudimentary knives and a handgun lying atop a dirty wooden table. He needed his tools. Each perfectly weighted one had been a precision instrument. Now look at him! He clenched and unclenched his fists as he paced. How was he supposed to finish the game without his tools… without the guests he had so painstakingly selected?
He couldn’t finish the game… everything was ruined.
He had to think. If there was time, he could retrieve the necessary assets, reorganize, and acquire an appropriate place in which to conduct his game. If he had more time he could replace the tools so essential to his needs… but he didn’t have time.
“There is no time!” His voice echoed in the vast empty space.
A whimper drew him to a halt. He turned slowly and stared at the woman clumsily tied to a chair. Fear rose in her, making her shudder and sob until mucus ran from her nose, joining the stream of hot, salty tears on her face.
How immensely pathetic. He moved toward her and peered down into those rich brown eyes. They were swollen from the many, many hopeless tears she had shed. The gag stuffed into her mouth forced her lush lips to bulge with the tiniest scrap of the dingy cloth protruding between them.
His gaze drifted down to her bare breasts. The perfect mounds rose and fell with the sobs quaking through her. Sheer terror had her nipples standing erect. Thick, firm nipples adorned her heavy breasts. Rare was the woman born with such high perfect breasts. Her narrow waist flared into hips that curved gently, guiding an admirer’s greedy gaze down the long length of well-toned legs.
As beautiful as she was with that long mane of dark, silky hair, she was still an utterly tragic creature useful for nothing more than giving him pleasure.
“Soon,” he whispered. “I will touch you in ways no other man has dared. Your last thought will be of me as you draw your final frantic breath. Then you’ll die, cold and alone like all the others.”
She looked away and sobbed even harder.
He laughed. “What was God thinking when he created such wretched creatures?”
Turning his back, he focused on the other matter requiring his attention. Eric shook his head. “Quentin, you have disappointed me so.” He sighed. “I had such high hopes for you.”
Quentin North stared at the floor, trying to pretend he hadn’t been looking at the woman—the naked, terrified woman tied with her legs spread wide apart, revealing her vulgar secrets. He sat on a stool far too short for his height, his long arms folded over his lap to hide a bulging erection. He appeared awkward, like a rutting teenage boy who only wanted to stick his dick in something but couldn’t quite work up the nerve.
“What do you have to say for yourself?” Eric demanded.
“I’ve done everything you asked.” Feeling humble or merely terrified, Quentin kept his gaze lowered as he spoke. “My only failure was in trusting Amanda too much. She tricked me.”
“Tricked you?” Eric laughed, the sound echoing off the dusty, decrepit walls. “You permitted that useless bitch to see things she should not have seen.” Had Eric known he would have played just a little longer before ending her infinitely pointless life. “Look what it has cost me!” He spread his arms wide to indicate the shabby accommodations.
Quentin said nothing.
Frustration roared through Eric. “It takes time to recover from a breach such as this and I do not have the luxury of time.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Your ineptness has ruined everything. How can I achieve the grand finale I desire when you have crippled my efforts so?”
Quentin lifted his gaze, evidently feeling a miniscule burst of defiance. “Why not ask for help from your many dedicated followers?”
Eric swiped the knife from the table and had the blade against the fool’s throat before the thought to recoil formed in his woefully inadequate brain. “You know very well why I cannot ask anyone for help.”
Quentin had the audacity to smile. “You’ve killed all those who stepped forward to serve you. Now the rest have abandoned you. You have no one left except me. You need me.”
Eric nicked his throat. Blood bloomed then slid beneath the collar of his cheap shirt. “Do you really believe that such a dire circumstance—if it were true—would be your salvation? Tsk, Tsk, Quentin, you truly are a fool.”
“I don’t see anyone else? Who’s going to carry out the tasks you require?”
Now he was simply begging for his life. “Any moron could accomplish such meager tasks, Quentin.”
“I’ve done more for you than all the others. I killed five peop
le and still found time to watch Burnett for the perfect moment to destroy him. The police believe he killed his ex-wife. Outside of a miracle, his life is over. Just think what they’ll do to him in prison.”
Eric wasn’t so convinced, though the mere concept ignited a fire in his loins. “That should have been the case with the cop who despised Jess so, but that endeavor hasn’t fared so well has it?”
“I told you I was preempted on that one. Someone else took Allen out. It wasn’t my mistake. How could I finish the task when he vanished?”
“Perhaps you’re right.” Eric was quite certain Dan Burnett possessed neither the stomach nor the balls for such a move. “I suppose some of his drug dealing friends had a score to settle.”
“Sounds right to me.”
Eric traced the vee of Quentin’s shirt with the tip of the knife. “Do you think for one second that I care what sounds right to you?” He ripped into the flesh there.
Quentin flinched but didn’t make a sound as more blood trickled down his chest. “I took pictures for you tonight.”
Eric had ordered him to watch Jess closely. He needed to know her every move if there was to be any chance of salvaging some reasonable climax to his game. When it was done, he intended to take a long vacation far from this place. Far from the memories of her.
“Pictures you say?”
Quentin reached into his shirt pocket and removed a slim stack of photos. “I think you’ll like these.”
Eric flipped through the photos, devouring each one. He caressed the image of Jess, blood smearing across the glossy surface. She sat astraddle Burnett, her head thrown back and her breasts jutting forward. Eric’s body grew harder as the images played out in his mind’s eye. Burnett disappeared and Eric took his place, lying there as Jess rode him with that same look of ecstasy on her face. Then he would roll her over and pound into her. All the while his fingers would be tightening around her delicate throat. He would squeeze until the final breath sputtered from those lush lips and he came hard inside her. He always wore a condom, but with Jess he wouldn’t. He wanted his seed to rain against her uterus as Dan’s child withered and died inside her lifeless body.
“Where?” he demanded, scarcely able to speak.
“I followed them to Sloss Furnaces. I thought you would like to see.”
Eric calmed his breathing and tucked the photos into his trouser pocket before settling his attention back on the albatross in front of him. “You were correct, Quentin.”
“Does that make up for my mistake?”
Eric laughed long and loud. “Did you really believe your inept attempts to distract me would save you?”
“I believe,” Quentin dared to glower at him, “you’re losing it, that’s what I believe.”
Eric buried the knife in his chest, wiggling the blade just so to ensure it slid deep between his ribs and into his heart. Blood gushed around his fingers, the warmth making him hard all over again.
“Do you know what I did to the last man who said those words to me, Quentin?” Eric watched as the life disappeared from his eyes. “I chopped him into very small pieces.” The memory of warm blood spurting against his flesh took Eric’s breath. His heart pounded with enough force to fracture his sternum.
Before he could restrain the urge, he strode across the room and stared at the glass case hanging on the wall. He smiled, pleasure now coursing like liquid fire through his veins. “That will do quite nicely.” He removed the one useful object in the abysmal place and returned to Quentin’s miserable corpse.
“Where to begin?” Eric assessed the situation a moment, tightened his grip on the heavy wood handle and then lifted the fire ax high above his head. He slammed the ax into Quentin’s shoulder, absorbing the impact of muscle and bone.
The stupid bitch behind him tried to scream and gagged.
Eric turned to her and smiled as the blood dripped, still warm, down his arms. “Don’t worry, you’ll have your turn.”
8
Shook Hill Road, Mountain Brook
Sunday, September 12, 10:40 a.m.
They had stopped by the hospital to see Chad Cook who was doing much better. Jess noted visible improvement and that made her happy. Cook’s parents were impressed that Chief of Police Dan Burnett had visited their son. If they’d even heard about Dan’s current status they didn’t seem to care. Jess had opted to wait on sharing the news about the baby since Cook’s parents had been visiting. There was plenty of time.
Senator Robert Baron had called and asked to see Jess, cutting their visit with Cook short. Jess had been immensely grateful she’d chosen her new sapphire dress and matching summer cardigan this morning. A command performance at the senator’s home hadn’t been on her agenda. Thankfully, she was dressed for the occasion. Senator Baron was a nice man, but a request from him, personal or not, still carried the influence of his office.
Dan had driven her to the Baron estate. He was now having coffee and discussing the expanding search for Nina with Sylvia and her mother on the back terrace. Jess had declined refreshments since her breakfast of toast and yogurt wasn’t sitting so well. She hoped the morning sickness wasn’t gathering a second wind. Senator Baron had invited her to his study. She’d settled into one of the large leather wingback chairs stationed in front of his desk. He stood near the window that provided an extraordinary view of the gardens that adorned the grounds all the way around his grand home.
“I hope you don’t mind that I asked to speak with you privately.”
Robert Baron was far closer to seventy than to sixty, yet he was as tall and fit as a man half his age. His hair had grayed into that distinguished color that never looked old. He sounded as strong and vibrant as he looked. His bearing spoke of wealth and power, while his personality proved warm and approachable. Jess liked him.
“I don’t mind at all, Senator. What would you like to talk about?” She suspected the invitation was about Nina… and Spears.
“My daughter has been missing for seventy-two hours. You’re aware the circumstances grow more dire with every passing hour.”
Jess understood perfectly. Outside a controlled environment and without her required medication, Nina’s condition would deteriorate rapidly, leaving her vulnerable and desperate. “The BPD is doing everything possible to find Nina.” Every PI and reporter in the county was chasing the million-dollar reward Baron had announced on Friday afternoon.
“And still,” he sighed, “it isn’t enough.”
Jess wished there were words of encouragement she could share, but the truth was there were none. If Nina Baron was still alive she’d either hidden herself somewhere and was lost or Spears had taken her. Any other kidnapper would be asking for ransom.
Baron rounded the desk and claimed the seat next to Jess. “If this serial killer has my daughter, what are the odds of her survival?”
Forty-eight hours ago Jess would have told him zero. Finding those three women alive had changed everything. “I honestly can’t say.” Jess considered her words carefully. She did not want to give the man false hope. “I will tell you that if Nina is with Spears her survival will depend solely on how he intends to use her in his game. He’s not choosing his victims for his own personal pleasure any more. He’s broken that long-term pattern. His actions appear to be about making a particular statement or getting to me—maybe both. We have to be prepared for anything. Particularly now that he’s lost his advantage.”
A glint of anticipation sparked to life in the Senator’s eyes. “You’re telling me there’s hope my daughter’s still alive.”
Again, Jess picked her words with great care. “I’m telling you that if Nina is with Spears she will stay alive as long as he needs her and when he doesn’t anymore we’ll find her body.” That was as blunt as she cared to be.
Baron gave a succinct nod. “That’s all I wanted to know. Chief Black has been most optimistic, but I felt as if he was telling me what I wanted to hear rather than the hard facts. I appreciate your can
dor, Jess.”
The urge to give him something more to hang onto would not be dismissed. “He has a plan, Senator, we just don’t know what it is yet. We do know that it includes me. You have my word, if given the chance, I’ll do all I can to protect Nina.”
“I don’t know you very well, Jess, but somehow I believe you will.”
Jess smiled. “I’ll take that as a compliment, sir.”
He stood. “We should join the others on the terrace. We have another half hour before today’s search efforts begin.”
Even a search for the missing took a break on Sunday morning for folks to attend church. Nina Baron needed all the help she could get, including prayer.
Senator Baron wrapped Jess’s arm around his and escorted her to the terrace. Sylvia and her mother went through the expected etiquette steps, but Jess saw the fear and exhaustion behind their masks.
Hope was waning.
Jess’s cell sounded off. Dan winced, understanding what the call likely meant. Jess excused herself and checked the screen.
Lori calling.
“Hey, Lori. What’s going on?” Jess held her breath, hoping against hope that neither Nina nor Campbell’s body had been discovered.
“We found Quentin North.”
Jess glanced over at Dan. “What’s the location?”
“He’s in his car at Sloss Furnaces.”
The location hit Jess like a dash of cold water in the face. “Is there a note or… anything?”
“No note. Just photos of you and… Chief Burnett.”
Jess reminded herself to breathe. “I’ll be there in half an hour.”
Her gaze sought and found Dan’s. The two of them had taken a drive to the old Sloss Furnaces last night. Back in high school, the former site where iron had been produced was one of their favorite secret places. Sloss Furnaces was a historic landmark. For nearly a century the old blast furnaces had stood as a reminder of how Birmingham had risen from nothing so quickly, earning it the nickname the Magic City. Over the decades dozens of men had died in the furnaces, including Jess’s maternal grandfather. According to some it was one of the most haunted places on earth. Lots of young folks had used the old open-air museum for a secret escape over the years.