What was he saying? That the man who had killed his wife wanted to kill her? But why? That made no sense. She was shaking with the effort not to cry. Her fingers curled into her arms as she continued to fight for control.
“Why? Why would he come here to kill me?” Of course, she could guess.
Still seated in the chair facing her, Alec held his face in his hands for several seconds, and then, letting out a harsh breath, looked at her again.
Jack walked in at that moment and placed her jewelry box on the coffee table. The box wasn’t the department store variety, but a hand-painted wooden one done by an artist friend. A small chameleon peeked out from beneath the huge red hibiscus bloom covering the top. Now the outside of the box was covered in what looked like copier toner.
Alec slipped on latex gloves before lifting the lid with the end of a pen.
There was a small wad of tip money on top. Probably seventy or eighty dollars at most. He carefully lifted it by the edges and placed it in a plastic bag.
He looked at her. “I need you to go through and tell me if anything is missing.”
Still reeling from what he’d told her, she took the ballpoint he passed. Her fingers were shaking, but with some effort, she managed to steady them.
She had very few pieces of expensive jewelry. An aquamarine ring her parents had given her for her sixteenth, the expensive watch she’d purchased when one of her paintings had finally brought more than a thousand dollars, the gold bracelet her dad had surprised both Katie and her mom with on Valentine’s Day two years before.
She lined them up next to the box. The only other worthwhile piece was the locket. It was usually tangled up in the bird nest at the bottom of the box. She rooted around. When was the last time she’d seen it? She’d worn the gold bracelet last week and the necklace had been here then. She could feel the pressure building in her chest, the sense of her confusion spreading. It had to be here.
In desperation, she used the pen to lift out the wad of cheap necklaces and bracelets. The jewelry landed noisily on the table next to the box.
“Katie?”
“It has to be here!”
“What has to be?”
Calm down. “A locket. It belonged to my grandmother.”
“Any chance you mislaid it?”
“No.” She shook her head. She could feel her palms begin to go clammy. “I only wear it when I get dressed up, and I haven’t since I came here.” She’d planned to wear it tonight. On their date.
Why the locket and not the more valuable bracelet? How could her attacker have known which item meant the most to her?
She lifted her gaze to meet Alec’s. “Was there something… Did he take a piece of your wife’s jewelry?”
Alec nodded.
Chief Blade had been standing near the fireplace, but now broke in. “Maybe you should let me take things from here, Alec,” he said quietly. He sat on the opposite end of the couch. “I think at this point the best thing we can do is find you someplace safe. Is there someone you can stay with? Family? Friends?”
She hadn’t wanted her parents to see her bruised up. Hadn’t wanted to worry them. But given the situation, did she have a choice? She could stay with friends, but that would mean returning to Miami. And even if Carlos hadn’t hired someone to kill her, she wasn’t ready to chance running into him quite yet.
“My parents are out west. They’re in a motor home. Arizona, Utah—I don’t know where exactly because they’ve been moving around a lot. I suppose I could go out and…”
Alec interrupted. “He’ll just follow.”
Jack shot a look at his brother. “But if he doesn’t know where she is—”
Alec cut him off. “How long do you think it will take him to find out? You’ll just be putting additional people at risk.”
Katie looked at both men. “I won’t do anything that puts my parents or anyone in danger.”
“Okay.” Chief Blade glanced at Alec. “What do you suggest, then?”
“Twenty-four hour protection in a safe house.”
“For how long?”
Irritation flashed in Alec’s face, and his jaw hardened. “For as long as it takes.”
“Hell, Alec, we’re a small force. We don’t have the budget to cover that type of protection. The best move is to get her out of town.”
Alec rubbed the back of his neck. “There is no place safe.” Alec took a deep breath in an obvious effort to hold on to his temper. “This isn’t about Katie. It’s about control. Of me. If he lets her get away, he’ll have lost control. He can’t allow that to happen.”
She’d been numbly listening, but now stood on shaky legs. “I still…I still don’t understand. Why me?” She realized just how weak and whiny the question sounded, but she was beyond caring.
“Because,” Alec said, “he believes I have a romantic interest in you.”
“That’s ridiculous. We haven’t even gone out on a date.”
“Very true. But that wasn’t what it looked like two weeks ago when I had forgotten my wallet and you covered my breakfast check.”
“And you came back an hour later with money and daisies,” she added. This couldn’t be happening. Not to her.
Chief Blade looked at Martinez, who had just shown up at the foyer door. “I’m through in the bedroom. Now might be a good time to get the fingernail clippings and scrapings for DNA testing. And then we’ll let you go change out of what you’re wearing.”
Martinez made quick work of obtaining the samples while the other men watched. Standing, he again picked up his case. “I’ll go get started on the kitchen.”
Martinez started to turn away, and then stopped. “If you’re looking for a safe house, I just moved into a new place. Last owner was a security freak. This guy wouldn’t have any reason to look for her out there.”
The police chief seemed to consider the suggestion. “Okay. Perkins, Jamison and Thompson are backups. I want all four of you staying out there. At least for tonight.”
IT WAS WELL AFTER one in the morning when Alec and Jack sat down in Jack’s office. Deep Water’s police department, which was composed of nineteen commissioned officers and six non-com support staff, had recently moved into a renovated building, dating back to the turn of the century.
When most towns in Central Florida’s Cougar County were plowing down the buildings that reflected their mediocre start, Deep Water had embraced its heritage of cattle barons and citrus kings. Buildings that had been ready to fall down were shored up, restored. Layers of asphalt were removed from downtown streets to reveal the worn but beautiful bricks beneath.
The Big Freeze of 1895 had run off most of the citrus industry, but even today, cattle grazed on much of the land outside the city limits. The feed store, which still occupied a prime chunk of ground at the center of town, maintained a hitching rail, and it wasn’t unusual to see a cow pony tied there early in the morning.
A modern town with grace and integrity. And now a monster.
Alec slumped back in the chair, and, resting his head against the wall, closed his eyes. Without aspirin, the headache had gotten worse. A good night’s sleep usually took care of it, but he doubted he’d be getting one of those anytime soon.
He’d already supplied his fingerprints for comparison to those found in the house, as had Katie.
Jack propped his elbows on the desk. “I’ll send an officer around to get elimination fingerprints from the landlord. The evidence will go to the lab in the morning. Including the shoe cast.”
A fairly clear footprint had been found just outside the kitchen door. But even if it belonged to Katie’s attacker, it would have little value until they had a suspect in custody.
Deep Water didn’t have a laboratory of its own, so the evidence would be sent to the Florida Department of Law Enforcement’s lab in Daytona Beach for analysis. Alec didn’t expect them to come back with anything useful. This wasn’t the kind of killer who made mistakes.
“I should have
seen this coming,” he said quietly. “I should have recognized the probability Jill’s killer would follow me to Deep Water. Nothing but damned arrogance on my part.”
“You always were arrogant. Even in high school and college. It’s what made you good.” Jack studied him. “As far as the rest, we all make mistakes.”
Alec scrubbed his face. “Not the kind that cost women their lives.”
Jack popped open a can of iced tea. After several long swallows, he set it aside. “But she’s okay. We just need to figure out how to keep her that way.” Jack stirred the dish of hard candies on the credenza behind him. He’d quit smoking several months ago, and now satisfied his oral fixation with cherry drops.
Jack tossed the wrapper toward the trash can. “With that in mind, maybe it’s time we start being honest with each other.”
“I wasn’t aware that we weren’t.”
“You’re right. It’s not really a matter of honesty, is it? It’s more a matter of letting it all hang out. Saying not only the easy things, but also the hard ones. We’ve never done that. We Blades aren’t really made that way, are we?”
“No,” Alec agreed. “Maybe you should tell me what it is you want me to be honest about.”
Jack leaned forward. “Is there another reason you might want to keep Katie in town?”
“Keeping her alive would seem like a good enough reason for most people.”
Jack nodded. “Yes, it would. But so does nailing the man who murdered Jill.”
“What are you talking about?” But he knew.
“It’s been eleven months, Alec. And we both know the stats. The longer a homicide goes unsolved, the less likely charges will be brought.” Rising, he paced to the window. “I’ve seen it in your eyes. You’re not so much tormented by Jill’s death as you are by the possibility that you may never catch this guy. You’ve helped put hundreds of his kind behind bars, but you can’t get this one. It eats you up inside. So much so that you might be willing to grab on to anything to turn the odds in your favor.”
Jack faced him. “And then suddenly you have it. Bait.”
Alec’s right hand curled into a fist over the arm chair. “You’re right. All of what you’ve said is true. Even the fact that I’m desperate enough to use any advantage. But do you really think I would place an innocent woman at risk?”
When his brother remained silent, Alec had his answer. “Well, you’re wrong. I have one woman’s death on my conscience. I couldn’t handle a second. And maybe you need to ask yourself how well you’re going to sleep if you cut her loose and he does go after her. If she winds up dead. Who would be the cold SOB then?”
Alec got to his feet. “Katie Carroll is in extreme danger. Get another opinion. Call Seth Killian. He’ll tell you the same thing. You fail to give her protection, and you might as well stake her to the ground like a sacrificial lamb.”
Jack looked up at his brother. “Call Seth? Your friend at the FBI? I guess I should trust his opinion. After all you two are tighter than brothers.”
Alec knew he should never have brought up Seth’s name. “Call whoever you want, just don’t put her on the next bus out of here without consulting someone else first.”
Jack studied him. “You’re that sure?”
“Yes.” Alec nodded. “I’m that sure.”
Chapter Four
Katie glanced at the cell phone sitting just to the right of the laptop computer. The phone was still on, and the battery charge was okay.
So why wasn’t it ringing?
A pervasive sense of loneliness, of disconnection from the real world had settled over her.
After only three days, Martinez’s guest bedroom had become her jail cell. A nine-by-twelve iron lung that kept her alive, but at the same time kept her trapped. And she felt numb—at least mentally—from lack of outside stimuli. Fresh air. Sounds of birds, of traffic, of the wind. Emotionally numb, too. She realized she was spending too much time worrying about things beyond her control.
She paced from desk to bed, plopped down on the edge and stared at the bedroom door. For the past few nights, Alec had called by eight thirty.
At first, she’d thought it was guilt that prompted the calls, and perhaps there was some of that involved, but she now suspected there was a deep-seated kindness in Alec. And that he understood more than most what she was going through and wanted to help in any way he could.
But, she admitted, it really didn’t matter why he called. She’d come to look forward to their conversations. And there was so little for her to look forward to.
Except perhaps the news that her attacker had been caught. That it was over. That she could go home.
Out in the living room, Martinez and the other two cops cranked up the television volume loud enough that the floor pulsed with the sound of Monday Night Football.
She could be watching the game with Martinez and his cop friends. But being around Martinez made her feel like a victim. It was in the way he looked at her sometimes and in the way he carefully chose words, and even in his choice of television shows.
Last night after dinner, he’d turned on a movie—a sappy, made-for-television romance, complete with guardian angels. He’d sat through all two hours, eyes wide-open and glazed with boredom. And she’d been feeling petty enough that she’d let him.
A loud round of raucous laughter propelled her to her feet. How much longer could she go on like this without going completely crazy?
Flicking on the computer again, she accessed the Internet. She’d read most of what there was to offer on the only subjects that interested her: serial killers and the FBI’s legendary behavioral scientist, Alec Blade. The man who had brought down the infamous Columbus Butcher. The man who had helped the Richmond Police Department solve the Railroad Killings. The man who had walked away from his career when his wife was murdered.
She’d made herself read the newspaper articles from the days and weeks following Jill Blade’s death. For some reason she’d thought it would help. Instead, they had only fueled nightmares that didn’t fade in the light of day.
She had just reached Babs Lacey’s interview with Alec for a segment on the real-life hero behind a recent prime-time television hit when the cell phone vibrated on the desk. Katie grabbed the phone.
“Hey, there.” She somehow made her greeting sound casual.
“Hello, there, yourself.” Alec’s voice was pitched low and smooth. Soft jazz played in the background, the lonely, lazy sound of a sax. Additional sounds like that of rain battering a windshield told her that he was in his car.
“You’re not home yet?”
“No. I was stopping off for some dinner first.”
“I thought you had a gourmet kitchen. And liked to cook.”
“I do. But it’s been a long day, and it’s a miserable night.” She could hear just how tired he was.
The nights were always the worst for her. Unending. Empty of everything but the fear.
Her fingers tightened on the phone, and she found herself glancing at Alec’s face on the screen. The image was from a year ago, and yet he looked far younger. Invincible. The chiseled mouth smiling with an ease she’d never witnessed in the weeks and months that he’d been coming into the diner, and the look in his dark eyes was confident and happy.
The interview had taken place only weeks before the murder.
“How’d it go in Philadelphia?” He’d told her he needed to fly up today, but hadn’t elaborated. As much as they talked about other things, they never discussed what had happened to his wife. Or even her sister. It was as if they both appreciated the other’s boundaries.
“The suspect’s lawyer’s demanding a deal on the table before he’ll give up anything. I think he actually may know something, if we can get him to talk.” She could hear the frus tration in his voice, and it made her realize that for her it had been only three days, but for him it had been far longer.
Over the past few days, with so much time to dwell on so few topics, s
he’d found herself analyzing what it was that had attracted her to Alec in the first place. Beyond a face that was both interesting and handsome and a lean, hard body that had been molded by years of running. She’d decided it was his quiet control that had made her say yes when he suggested dinner. Because after Carlos, quiet, calm control had made her feel safe.
“Did you get the package?” Alec asked, dragging her up and out of her own thoughts.
“Yes. Thanks. I hope it wasn’t too awkward, but I didn’t know who else to ask.” He’d done some shopping for her. Shorts and shirts, panties, bras. It was the first time she’d ever given a man her bra and panty size, and his choices had surprised her. Perhaps they weren’t quite thongs, but some of the panties were barely there.
When the police had released the crime scene, Alec had sent over some of her clothes from the house, but she’d continued to live in the same T-shirt and running shorts Martinez had lent her that first night.
Katie stood and paced. “I know it’s ridiculous, but I just couldn’t wear anything of mine. Just the idea that he might have touched them. It gave me the creeps.”
“It’s understandable.”
“Is it?” To her, her behavior seemed irrational. They were just clothes. Even if her attacker had touched them, after the half dozen trips they’d made through the washer, nothing of him could remain. But her skin had crawled each time she’d tried to put them on. In the end, she’d stuffed them in the trash.
A loud whoop came from the other room, closely followed by, “Get in there! Get in there!” Then more male screams of frustration.
Katie turned her back on the noise as if to shut them out. “Thanks for the DVDs, too.” He’d included half a dozen movies—all comedies—as if he’d known she couldn’t watch anything else right now. Certainly not the psychological thrillers she normally enjoyed.
“You’re welcome. What’s with the toothpicks, though?”
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