Beneath the Surface

by Lynn H. Blackburn

  She wanted to scream, but screaming would be too painful to be worth the release. Speaking those few sentences had hurt far more than she’d expected.

  “Leigh, why don’t we all sit down and talk,” Anissa said.

  Anissa wanted to talk to her? She’d expected more female solidarity from Anissa. Surely she didn’t agree with this plan to run her life?

  Gabe clapped his hands together. “Excellent suggestion.” He came toward her, arm bent, and bowed slightly. “M’lady. May I escort you inside?”

  Gabe certainly knew how to turn on the charm. Not that it was working on her, but if they went inside, she could sit in her favorite chair and talk some sense into them.

  She accepted his arm and he walked with her. “Where would you like to sit?”

  “What is this, a wedding?” She pointed to the recliner in the corner of the seating arrangement.

  Gabe laughed and leaned closer, pressing her arm against him. “That gravelly voice is awesome. You sound mean. The problem is I know you’re one of the nicest people on the planet, so you can’t quite pull it off. But it’s fun to imagine you as a grouchy lady who’s waiting to bite people’s heads off if they cross you.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure that isn’t what she’s planning,” Anissa said from behind them. She took a seat across from Leigh and winked. “If you decide to take him out, I’ll help you.”

  That was more of what she was expecting from Anissa. Maybe she wouldn’t be alone in this after all.

  Ryan closed the doors to the deck and joined them. He dropped a mammoth file on the coffee table before sitting beside Anissa on the love seat.

  Gabe took the sofa for himself.

  They all stared at each other.

  “What’s going on?” she asked again. They all looked at one another, and something about their expressions sent a cold wave of terror crashing over her. “What don’t I know?”

  She listened in mute horror as Ryan shared his theory. Anissa and Gabe interjected from time to time—clarifying, not contradicting.

  When Ryan finished, she leaned back in the recliner. “You think the same person who killed the John Doe in the lake also killed the John Doe at Mr. Cook’s house, and you think they are the same person who is trying to kill me?”

  Ryan shifted in his seat. “I don’t know, Leigh. I honestly don’t. But something weird is going on, and it’s one theory we have to give serious consideration to.”

  “But that would mean I know this person. I don’t know anyone capable of this kind of horror.”

  The three of them did that thing where they looked at one another again. It was annoying. She wasn’t sure if they were using secret signals or what, but they must have decided it was Anissa’s turn to talk, because she responded.

  “The truth is you never know what someone is capable of,” she said. “People are capable of extraordinary good. They are also capable of indescribable evil. Sometimes the same person can pull off both in the same day. And serial killers, if that’s what we’re dealing with, are known to be gifted at hiding the darkness they walk in.”

  “But why me?”

  Gabe leaned toward her. It must have been his turn to talk. “Why is a great question to ask, Leigh, but it isn’t the one that’s going to solve our problems. Right now we need to know who is behind this. When we find them, we’ll ask them what they were thinking.”

  “And we probably won’t get a rational response,” Anissa said. “Serial killers operate from a very twisted view of the world. What makes perfect sense to them would be completely ridiculous to someone with a normal psychological status.”

  “So I’ve got a sociopath on my trail. No one knows why. And you think they may work at the hospital.”

  None of them contradicted her.

  She swallowed again. Ow.

  “The bottom line is we don’t know,” Ryan said. “But there is ample evidence to suggest that whether or not your attacker is the serial killer we’re hunting, they have access to you at the hospital and you are in extreme danger when you are there. That’s why we’re recommending you take a leave of absence.”

  She didn’t miss the way he said “we” and not “I.”

  “Even if you believe the risk is worth taking,” Anissa said, “you have to think about the others. The coworkers who could be killed in an attempt on your life. The patients. The police officers and security guards who are trying to protect you. Given the credible threat we see, it would be irresponsible for you to return to work at this time.”

  When she put it that way . . .

  “I guess I don’t have a choice,” she said.

  “We’re all working on it,” Gabe said. “In fact, Ryan and I are headed out in a few minutes to collect more security footage similar to what you gave us. The people who live two houses down finally came home. We’re hoping for a solid lead.”

  Leigh looked at Ryan. He nodded in confirmation. So she would be here alone. Well, not alone. The police officers were patrolling the place, but it wasn’t the same.

  “Actually,” Anissa said, “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if I hang out here while they run down the footage? I promise I’ll be quiet. You can sleep. I need to go over all my notes in light of this news, and it’s a lot nicer here than the office. The captain gave us the green light to work from here, and I hate to pass up the view.”

  Leigh wasn’t fooled. She knew Anissa had picked up on her fear. But she didn’t care. It was a great idea as far as she was concerned.

  Gabe and Anissa excused themselves and went back to the deck, leaving her alone with Ryan.

  He moved to the coffee table and sat on the edge of it, his knees touching hers. “I am sorry,” he said.

  He probably expected her to say something, but she was at a loss. What could she say? She wasn’t fine. Nothing about this situation was fine.

  “It feels . . . it feels like I’m on a roller coaster and someone is shooting at me. I’m trapped, flying at top speed, flipping and twisting in the air, and I can’t get off. There’s nothing I can do except hold on and pray I don’t get hit. But I don’t want the ride to end either, because if they are smart, they’ll be waiting for me to pull into the station, and right when I think it’s finally over, they’ll get me.”

  Ryan reached for her hands.

  “We’re going to get them before they get you. Things are starting to pull together. The hospital angle gives us a whole new investigative direction—”

  “But what if it’s the wrong one? You said it’s a theory. I agree with the validity of your theory, but what if we’re missing something obvious? What if the psycho trying to kill me doesn’t have anything to do with the psycho who killed the two John Does?”

  Ryan didn’t come back with a quick answer. She appreciated that he was taking her question as seriously as she meant it.

  “First of all, we won’t ignore any angle,” he said. “This doesn’t mean we aren’t trying to learn the identities of the John Does, and who knows how things will go when we have that information. We’ll run down each and every lead we have, regardless of whether it fits this theory or not.”

  “Okay, what’s second?”

  He rubbed circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. “The second reason is more a matter of odds,” he said. “We have our own share of craziness in Carrington, but the true psychos don’t usually show up in pairs. I’m not saying it couldn’t happen, but most of our violent crimes have very different motives. Domestic violence, greed, drugs, alcohol, that kind of thing.”

  “You don’t know who I might have ticked off,” she said. “What if it’s a patient? Or the family of a patient who died and they blame me?”

  “We’re looking into that,” he said.

  “I could help,” she said. “Try to think back to any crazy incidents, that kind of thing.”

  “That would be great,” he said.

  Gabe tapped on the glass and touched his watch. “I guess you need to go.” She looked at Ryan
.

  Ryan squeezed her hands once more, then released them as he stood. “I’ll be back. We can talk about your crazy cases tonight, but for now, please try to rest.”

  Ten minutes later, she draped herself in a blanket and closed her eyes. In her dreams, she was back in the emergency department, running to a room where the monitors were going crazy. It took her several moments to realize it wasn’t the beeping of an IV pump but the sound of sirens breaking into her dreams. When she opened her eyes, Anissa was standing two feet away. Gun in hand. Body tensed. She made eye contact with Leigh and put one finger to her lips.

  16

  Ryan didn’t bother to knock. He ran into Leigh’s house. His knees threatened to buckle under the relief of seeing Leigh wide awake and Anissa in full bodyguard mode.

  “What’s going on?” Anissa’s voice drowned out Leigh’s, but he heard them both ask it at the same time.

  “I have no idea,” he said. “Heard the sirens and came straight here. The detail that’s supposed to be outside—isn’t.”

  His phone rang. “Parker.”

  He gave Anissa and Leigh an all clear sign. “Got it. Let me know when you’re back.”

  He put the phone back in his pocket. “False alarm. Well, not really. False alarm for us.”

  “What happened?” Leigh’s hoarse voice cracked.

  “Two doors down. Possible heart attack. The man’s young. Probably in his forties. His teenage son panicked. Knew there were police officers nearby. Came out of the house screaming for help. They kept an eye on the perimeter but went to assist.”

  “They shouldn’t have left,” Anissa said in a tone that could freeze lava.

  He understood her anger. “They knew you were inside,” Ryan said. “I agree they should have checked with you first, but they maintained a watchful presence while providing aid to a terrified boy.”

  “It could have been a trap.” Anissa wasn’t ready to drop it.

  “It wasn’t.”

  “How’s the man?” Of course Leigh would be worried about the man, not the potential danger the officers had put her in by helping. He tried to focus on her face, but the bruises snaking around her neck fought for his attention.

  “Ambulance is on the scene.”

  Leigh’s eyes burned with compassion. “The paramedics are better equipped to handle something like this than I am,” she said. “I hope he’ll be okay. Those folks moved in a few weeks ago. I don’t even know their names.”

  “I don’t like it,” Anissa said. “You need to find out more about them. And follow up on this supposed heart attack. It might have been a ploy. We may have gotten very lucky.”

  She wasn’t wrong.

  “And you need to talk to the officers outside. Tell them this is just the kind of thing that could be done to get to Leigh.”

  Leigh dropped her head.

  What was he going to have to do to get Anissa to shut up? “Thank you, Investigator Bell,” he said. “I know how to do my job.”

  “I wasn’t implying you didn’t.” Anissa’s retort was cool. “Just thinking out loud.”

  “He’s trying to protect me,” Leigh said. “He’s not mad at you for what you said. You’re right. He’s frustrated that you won’t quit saying it in front of me.”

  Anissa cocked her head to the side and looked at Ryan with a mischievous grin. “Well, Investigator Parker?”

  He wasn’t sure what annoyed him more—that Leigh was right or that Anissa found it amusing.

  “I don’t need to be kept in the dark,” Leigh said. “I can take it. You’re going to have to keep me in the loop whether you want to or not. In fact, you probably need to start talking about the case with me. If your theory is right, if there is a connection between me and the John Doe killer . . .” She raised her hands in exasperation. “I can’t imagine what it could be, but the more you include me, the more likely it is that I will figure out what this connection is.”

  He didn’t like it. At all. It was not the way things were usually done. Sure, he made it a point to keep the interested parties informed in an investigation. It was the least he could do. But to include them in a brainstorming session? To discuss tactics? No.

  But . . . the sheriff had made it clear that he wanted this case solved no matter what. He’d told them to do whatever it took to find the killer and keep Leigh safe.

  And nothing was usual about this case. Hadn’t been from day one. It kept getting crazier by the day. Maybe she was right.

  Anissa’s phone buzzed. Her face lit up in anticipation. “Excuse me.”

  He expected her to step outside, but she didn’t. “Dr. Oliver. Do you have some good news for me?”

  So it was safe to assume Anissa agreed with Leigh’s suggestion.

  He mouthed the words “medical examiner” to Leigh. She nodded in understanding.

  Anissa’s mouth formed a small O and she scrambled for a piece of paper. “Okay. Got it. Yes, email it please. This is fantastic. Thank you.”

  She put her phone on the table and looked at him and Leigh in triumph. “We have a name.”

  His mind raced at the implications of her words. A name could change everything. “How?”

  “Knee replacement. Dr. Oliver has been tracking down the serial number. Our John Doe is Calvin Staton from Cleveland.”

  “Cleveland?” Leigh asked in a gruff voice. Her question mirrored his own.

  “That’s all I know. The knee was replaced five years ago.” She glanced between him and Leigh. “I need to get to the office.”

  “Go,” he said. “Keep me informed.”

  “How about I bring pizza around seven?” she asked. “We’ll compare notes.”

  He didn’t know what notes he would have to share, but it sounded like a good plan.

  Gabe burst through the door. His eyes darted from Leigh resting on the sofa, lingered for a second on her neck, then flashed to Anissa gathering her things, and then to Ryan. “Everyone okay over here?”

  “Better than okay,” Anissa said. “Parker can fill you in. See you guys around seven.” She paused at the door. “Chavez, make sure we have some ice cream. Leigh’s going to need a milk shake.”

  Gabe looked from Ryan to Leigh. “What did I miss?”

  “Anissa’s got a name on the John Doe found at Mr. Cook’s place,” Ryan said. “She’s bringing pizza at seven. Here. And apparently you’re bringing ice cream.”

  “Oh, I’m bringing more than that.” Gabe winked at Leigh. “We have a consultant on your case who has volunteered to take a look at the security footage from all the area homes.”

  Where was Gabe going with this?

  “She’s outside,” he said. “She has some information for us. Do you mind if she comes in?”

  Leigh swung her legs to the floor.

  “Don’t get up,” Ryan said.

  Of course she would ignore him.

  “If it’s a problem . . .” Gabe’s voice trailed off.

  “It’s not a problem,” Leigh said. “I’m not an invalid, but based on the way you two keep looking at my neck, I’m guessing I look pretty rough. I’m going to get a different shirt.”

  Gabe shook his head in apology. Ryan moved to intercept her. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

  “Thank you,” she said. “But I know how hard it can be to have a conversation with someone when they have such an obvious physical distraction. You aren’t being rude. It’s a natural response and eventually you won’t notice it, but I don’t want to have to deal with it all night.” She smiled at Gabe. “Of course she’s welcome.”

  “Adam’s here too.”

  Of course he was.

  “That’s fine.”

  Leigh slipped up the stairs.

  “You should go with her,” Gabe said.

  “Why?”

  “Because she’s not going to like what she sees when she looks in the mirror.”

  Was he right? Would she let him provide some measure of comfort? Was there anything he could say
that would help?

  Leigh couldn’t get away from their pitying looks fast enough.

  She wasn’t offended. At all.

  But if she didn’t get a few minutes of silence and solitude, she was going to scream.

  Or she would try to. It would probably sound like a cat trying to cough up a hairball, which wouldn’t be nearly as dramatic as what she was attempting.

  She rummaged in her closet for a shirt with a collar. Something other than the V-neck T-shirt she had on. There. She pulled the shirt from the hanger and held it to her face.

  It was one of her dad’s casual shirts. For Judge Weston, casual still meant a button-down, but the tie was optional. Her dad had been a tall, thin man, and after he’d passed away, she’d claimed some of his favorite shirts for her own wardrobe.

  This was the shirt he’d had on the day she was accepted into the nurse practitioner program at Duke. She’d come home to tell him. He’d hugged her, told her he wasn’t surprised and how proud he was. He’d held her face in his hands and said, “Baby, I’ve known from the day we first saw you that you were going to do amazing things. I’m so thankful God allowed me to be your dad.”

  Her eyes filled with tears at the memory. It was one of those moments that was etched into her brain. The hug. The sense that all was right in the world. The hope for the future. All of it had been there that day.

  Two weeks later he had a heart attack.

  And nothing had been quite right since.

  Every holiday highlighted his absence. Every big moment shone a spotlight on the fact that he wasn’t there to share it. She’d adored her mom, but her dad had been her rock. Her stability.

  With him gone . . .

  She slid her arms through the sleeves.

  Why did you take him? I wanted more time.

  Was that when it all started? The slow drift away from a God who, in her mind at least, had let her down? Did she quit talking to him when he didn’t save her dad?

  She hadn’t done it on purpose, but as she buttoned the long row of buttons, she knew. She’d been mad at God for a long time.

  Is that why you’re trying to kill me?