by Webb, Debra
Okay, go back to the beginning. “Do you recall anything different or strange that happened in school or at home in the week or so before you were abducted? Besides the phone call about the weekend getaway you’d supposedly won?” Jess qualified.
The young woman stared at Jess as if she were completely overwhelmed and totally lost. Finally, she shook her head yet again, more tears shining in her eyes as renewed defeat clouded her face.
Enough. Jess stood and moved to the side of her bed. She placed a business card on the tray table. She wasn’t usually the touchy-feely type but she gave Melaney’s hand a gentle squeeze just the same. “Anything you remember or need, no matter when it is—day or night, tomorrow or weeks from now—you call me. Don’t hesitate.”
A jerky nod was her answer.
“Thank you, Melaney.”
Jess turned and started for the door. She was thankful these two women were safe and unharmed for the most part. As grateful as she was, she wished something—anything—one or the other remembered could help them find Rory Stinnett.
How much time did they have before Stinnett became a statistic in the massive case file on the Player?
“Wait.” Melaney’s tinny voice resonated against the sterile white walls of the room.
Jess stopped, turned, and waited. Adrenaline pumped through her. There was something different in the other woman’s tone now… a new kind of fear or desperation crammed into that one word.
Melaney visibly struggled as if she feared her words would somehow change what happened next. She toyed with the card Jess had left for her. “I wasn’t going to mention it.” She made an aching sound in her throat. “The drug was sucking me into the darkness, and I wasn’t sure if I really heard what I thought I heard. Claudia said she didn’t remember anyone saying anything. I figured maybe I imagined it.”
Jess’s thoughts, the very blood flowing through her veins, hushed.
Melaney moistened her chapped lips. “But, when you came in here and introduced yourself, I knew I hadn’t imagined it.”
A chill crept into Jess’s bones. “You may have seen me or heard my name on the news.” Her own voice sounded strained. Her chest seemed to be rising and falling too rapidly, yet she couldn’t draw enough air into her lungs.
Melaney shook her head. “Told you I don’t watch the news.”
Jess moved closer to the foot of her bed. “All right. What do you think you heard?”
“He whispered… or maybe it was the drug that made his voice seem so low and quiet.”
Holding her breath, Jess waited for the rest.
“He said, tell Jess this is all for her.”
Somehow, Jess managed a stiff nod. “Thank you, Melaney.”
When she would have turned away, Melaney’s voice stopped her again. “Are you the reason he did this to us?”
Jess would’ve given just about anything to be able to say no…
3
Birmingham-Shuttlesworth International Airport, 9:52 p.m.
Sergeant Chet Harper waited at the drop-off area outside baggage claims. The somber face he wore warned it was going to be a long night.
During the return flight from Knoxville, Jess and Dan hadn’t spent a lot of time talking. He’d made his thoughts on the matter perfectly clear: Jess should basically go into hiding. She had made her opinion equally clear: that was not happening. After the stalemate, she had prevented thoughts of Spears from intruding by fantasizing about the long, hot bath she intended to indulge in before climbing into bed next to Dan—even if he was frustrated at her—and shutting out the world for a few hours.
But that was going to have to wait now.
Her team had a new case.
The instant the plane had settled on the tarmac she couldn’t take the not knowing anymore. She had checked her phone and listened to her messages. Dan had given her that look when she’d powered it on before the pilot announced it was okay to do so. She’d pretended not to notice and turned to stare out the window. The first message had been from Harper. They had a double homicide. A particularly gruesome one judging by the sound of her detective’s voice. The two victims were both young and female.
Harper had said in the voice mail that he would pick Jess up at the airport. A reasonable call for her senior detective to make since Dan would need to retrieve his SUV from short-term parking and head home. There was no reason for them both to spend the next few hours, maybe the rest of the night, at a crime scene. At this point, Dan wasn’t saying much. Having her rush off to a crime scene the minute they landed didn’t exactly make him happy, but her team had caught this case. She had an obligation to her detectives and to the department. More importantly, she had an obligation to the victims.
It wasn’t as if Chief of Police Daniel Burnett didn’t fully grasp those facts. She glanced up at the man next to her. His face was grim. The lines of exhaustion told her just how worried he was about her and about Spears. She couldn’t fault him for that. She was damned worried herself.
“Sergeant,” Jess said in greeting as she and Dan approached Harper and his vehicle.
“Ma’am.” He gave her a smile, and then nodded to Dan. “Chief.”
“I’ll keep you posted on my whereabouts at all times,” Jess promised Dan. He didn’t really want her out of his sight. Every move Spears made had him struggling harder to protect her. He was terrified he would fail. She wished she could make him see there was no way to fully protect her from what was coming.
There were no real choices in this deadlock. For this torment to ever end, she had to face Spears eventually.
During the past fifteen or so hours, she had come to terms with the reality that there was only one way to stop him. The tricky part was managing that feat without getting herself badly injured or… dead. A thread of unfamiliar fear wove its way through her. This time she wasn’t the only one depending on whether she kept breathing or not. Having those pink lines appear on that pregnancy test this morning had changed everything.
“Sergeant, you know what I expect.” Dan’s voice drew her from the troubling thoughts. He glanced at the Birmingham Police Department cruiser waiting right behind Harper’s SUV. “Don’t lose your surveillance detail, and do not allow Chief Harris out of your sight even for a second. We have every reason to believe Spears or one or more of his followers are close. We can’t take anything for granted.”
Harper nodded. “I understand, sir.”
Jess gave Dan’s arm a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll be fine.”
Dan exhaled a heavy breath but finally gave her a nod. “Don’t make me regret allowing you to stay on the job.”
Regret was one thing she didn’t want between them ever again. Whatever happened, no more regrets. They’d both spent far too much time lamenting the past as it was. They weren’t kids anymore.
“No regrets,” she reminded him. “Mutual respect and trust.”
He held up his hands in surrender. “You win. Respect and trust.” That ghost of a smile he managed couldn’t have been easy but it warmed her heart.
“I’ll be home as soon as I can,” she promised.
Home. Jess moved toward the waiting SUV, keeping her back straight and her step purposeful. Strange as it seemed when she took the time to think about it, Birmingham was home again. She’d made a bit of a detour, spending most of her adult life far away from Birmingham, Alabama.
Far away from Dan.
But she was back. Spears had her rammed into a corner in many respects but she had no intention of allowing him to prevent her from living her life or doing her job.
Right now, two homicide victims were waiting for their killer to be found.
“Your weapon’s in the glove box, Chief,” Harper let her know as she settled into the front passenger seat and fastened her safety belt.
“Thank you, Sergeant.” Jess claimed her Glock and held it for a long moment. Air travel restrictions and the lack of time to gain the necessary clearance had prevented her from taking her weapo
n with her. The Bureau had sent an armed escort to collect her and Dan from the airport in Knoxville, and then to shuttle them back for their return flight. Being armed hadn’t really been necessary.
She drew in a deep, steadying breath. Her law enforcement career spanned more than two decades. First as a field agent and then a profiler for the Federal Bureau of Investigation and now as deputy chief of Birmingham’s new Special Problems Unit, a modified Major Crimes Division. Not having her weapon with her was like forgetting to wear underwear. She just didn’t feel comfortable.
“Give me a rundown on what we have.” Jess stashed the Glock in her bag. Harper hadn’t given her much in his voice mail. The sooner she was focused on the case the quicker she could push aside the pain of not being able to help Rory Stinnett, the woman Spears hadn’t released.
“The two victims, Lisa Templeton and Alisha Burgess, were last seen at Chuck’s Roadhouse after midnight last night.” Harper merged onto I-20 west/I-59 south. “They closed the joint and left together.”
Since the vics were last spotted in a public place, maybe there were reliable witnesses who would remember whether or not the women had left with anyone.
“The vics share a house in Homewood,” Harper went on. “A couple hours ago a friend, Stacey Jernigan, who works with Lisa Templeton, dropped by to find out why she didn’t come to work today. The front door was ajar and Jernigan went inside.”
Even in B-rated movies, it was always the person who walked through the door left ajar or into the dark alley who ended up dead or who discovered the body. It was a miracle anyone who had ever watched a movie like that still took the risk. Morbid curiosity, Jess supposed.
“Chuck’s is a restaurant? Bar?” She didn’t recognize the name, but then she’d been gone for a long time. Most of the places she had frequented as a fake ID toting teenager were long gone.
“Popular nightclub over on Tenth. Detective Wells is there now interviewing the manager and the employees who worked last night.”
Lori Wells was another respected member of SPU. Though Jess had only been away for the day, she was glad to be back at work with her team. She glanced at Harper’s profile as he drove through the darkness. These people felt like family.
Her arms went around her waist. Being a part of a family was something she’d never been very good at. Her sister, Lily, would say Jess was too busy with work for family stuff. Frankly, it was high time she got the hang of balancing the two. The child she carried was depending on her.
The baby was a secret she had to keep for a while longer—or at least until she figured out how to prevent Spears from discovering what he would no doubt see as a new pawn to use in his evil game.
Raleigh Avenue, Homewood, 10:33 p.m.
The small bungalow sat on a corner lot in a neighborhood that had seen better days. The homes were older, the yards a little larger. The cars belonging to the victims were parked in the driveway. Four BPD cruisers were on the scene with two blocking the street, while the officers kept traffic and pedestrians clear of the area. The crime scene unit had arrived and, of course, the usual news crew suspects. Questions were shouted at Jess as she walked toward the house. She ignored the reporters. There was nothing to tell just yet.
“The ME en route?” she asked as she and Harper ducked under the yellow tape officially proclaiming the property as a place where bad things had happened.
He nodded. “Dr. Baron’s heading this way now. She’s sent me three,” he glanced at his cell, “make that four text messages wanting to know what was taking us so long. She didn’t want to show up until you were on the scene.”
They were all waiting for Jess to arrive and take charge. Murder was her specialty. Typically, she considered that an asset, somehow tonight she just felt tired.
As tired as she was, she was surprised Deputy Chief Black wasn’t here insisting his division work this double homicide. He and Jess had issues when it came to who was assigned what case. Maybe Black was resigned to having her around.
If he wasn’t, he might as well get that way. Jess was here to stay.
“Officer Cook is taking statements from the two uniforms that were first on the scene.” Harper gestured to the official BPD car parked in the driveway behind the victims’ vehicles. “Jernigan’s waiting in the cruiser. She didn’t want to stay in the house.”
“Can’t say as I blame her.” Jess looked from the cruiser to the home now filled with official personnel. “I’ll come back to Jernigan after I’ve had a look inside.” The sooner she examined the scene, the more quickly she could start to form an assessment of the killer. His every move told her something about him and his reason for committing murder. Uncovering the motive was key in finding the killer.
The uniform guarding the front door stepped aside as Jess approached the stoop. Harper passed her gloves and shoe covers. “Thank you, Sergeant.”
“I know you’ve seen a lot in your time with the FBI,” Harper was saying as he tugged on the required protective wear, “but this is damned bizarre. Whoever killed these women is one sick puppy.”
Jess reminded herself to catch a last big breath before entering the house. “Lead the way, Sergeant.”
The odor of coagulated blood hung thick in the air. Not that it had far to go in the small home. Forensic techs were snapping photos and dusting for prints in the main living area. There were no immediate indications of trouble. The space was sparsely furnished, with little of the usual clutter of everyday life. If the home had air conditioning, it wasn’t working very well. It was as hot and humid inside as it was out, making the smell all the more overwhelming.
“No air conditioning?” Jess dabbed at her forehead, perspiration forming on her skin already. If she didn’t know better, she would swear she was suffering with hot flashes. Did pregnant women get hot flashes?
“On the fritz,” Harper explained. “Windows are painted shut. Doesn’t look like anyone’s tried to open them in the last couple of decades.”
Jess wondered how the women had made it through the long, hot summer. And there were still another three or four weeks to go.
“We believe the killer washed up in the bathroom,” Harper gestured to the kitchen side of the living area, “and then exited through the back door.”
Jess followed him across the room, studying the details that painted a picture of how the victims had lived. Unwashed cups in the sink and paper plates in the trash suggested busy women on the go. Cabinets were mostly bare but there were grapes, yogurt, and vitamin water in the fridge. She opened the freezer door, found one unopened bottle of Vodka and a carton of chocolate ice cream, a girl’s best friends after a bad date.
She turned to the open back door. “Maybe that’s what he wanted us to think.” If he’d gone to all the trouble to clean up, why not close the doors? Why leave the front door ajar and go out the back? Were one or both open while he went about his heinous business?
Was he just arrogant enough not to care? Or was he driven by emotions fierce enough to prevent him from thinking logically? Then again, someone or something may have interrupted him, forcing him to rush away.
Jess considered the room once more. “No indication the locks were tampered with?”
“None.”
“Seems unlikely the killer was a stranger.” Either that or the ladies failed to lock up when they came home. Had the killer followed them home or was he invited? Were the victims’ actions compromised by excessive amounts of alcohol or some other drug?
“The bodies are this way, ma’am.”
Jess’s stomach did a little quiver and she hesitated. “Let’s see where our perp washed up first.” She couldn’t remember the last time she had put off her assessment of the victim—victims, in this instance. The ME wasn’t here yet so she had some time. Still, she didn’t like this unexpected need to hesitate.
Had pregnancy hormones overridden her usual unflappability?
As she followed Harper, she hoped all the fatigue and turbulent emotions s
he was experiencing were limited to the first trimester. Otherwise, she might just have to take that vacation Dan wanted so badly for her to consider.
Like that was going to happen with Spears setting the agenda.
Keep your mind on the business at hand, Jess.
The main living area flowed into a cramped hallway. Harper stood to the side of the bathroom door on the right so Jess could have a look at the tiny space. Bloody footprints led from the hallway’s hardwood floors to the usually white tile of the bathroom floor. More blood was smeared on the white walls, the sink and the tile in the shower. The hand and footprints were too small, in Jess’s opinion, to be a man’s. She crouched down and had a closer look. Size seven, she decided. Same size she wore.
“There are an awful lot of prints here for one perp,” she noted absently. Either the killer had done a lot of going back and forth or there was more than one, both about a size seven. And a hell of a lot of blood. What had the perp done, used it for body wash? The blood was dry now. The killer or killers had been gone for a while.
“There’s a lot of smearing,” Harper pointed out. “Makes lifting a good print more difficult.”
Just their luck. Jess pushed to her feet. “The killer certainly didn’t appear to care about leaving behind possible evidence.” There was no visible attempt to clear the endless impressions away.
“We could be dealing with perps who were strung out on something,” Harper offered. “Too messed up to think straight.”
She examined the footprints once more. “Could be teenagers.”
“Definitely someone of a smaller stature,” Harper agreed.
Jess turned away from the bathroom. “Possibly female.”
“That would explain a lot,” Harper said, rather mysteriously. “This way, Chief.”
There were maybe six steps between the bathroom and the first bedroom. The stench of decomposition grew stronger but the room was clear of any visible blood. There was a single bed and a dresser. An art easel with a half finished scene on the canvas waited on one side of the room. Jess leaned close to the unfinished art and sniffed, smelled the oil in the paints. She touched it. The paint was still a little tacky. Recent work. The closet in the room was empty, and so were the dresser drawers.