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by Unknown

  “What?”

  “What? You think these services come for free?” he said. “You interrupt my sleep, come into my house, get a free astrology seminar, a book and a printout that can help you decode your serial killer letter, and you’re complaining about two hundred bucks?”

  “I’m trying to catch a killer.”

  “Everyone’s trying to do something, honey. I take cash or credit.”

  Avery paid with a credit card and headed out.

  The book was under her arm, but the printout was in her hand. There were six pages with a lot of numbers in tiny font. They were birthdays that started in the early fifties. She moved down the list and tried to find one that mattered.

  Nineteen fifties.

  Nineteen sixties.

  Nineteen seventies.

  Nineteen eighties.

  By the time she reached the 1990s, she was out of the building and on the street.

  Nineteen ninety-seven…

  Nineteen ninety-eight...

  A cold chill made her stop, and for a second, she was unable to move or think.

  A birthday was listed. It was one among hundreds—tiny, hard to read, and stuck between so many dates—but Avery was familiar with it. Very familiar.

  It was Rose’s birthday.

  Rose, she thought with dread and turned around to view the people and buildings around her as if the killer could have been anywhere. That was what his letter meant.

  It was a warning.

  He’s going after Rose.

  CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

  Avery hit the police lights and tore through the city.

  “Rose?” she called into her phone. “Honey, listen to me. I need you to call me back as soon as you get this call. Do you understand? I know you hate me right now, but this is very important. Please. Rose?”

  She dialed again and again.

  Every time, the phone went to voicemail.

  Her daughter lived somewhere on the Northeastern campus. Where? Avery thought and wracked her brain. The name was right there in her head. They’d been unloading boxes. Rose had mentioned the house and was excited because it seemed to be slightly off-campus on a residential street. Hemhaw? Heehaw? That’s what she’d called it but that’s not the actual name. Suddenly, it came to her and she slowed down and loaded the GPS.

  Backup, she thought. You need backup.

  Her first instinct was to call Ramirez.

  First relax, she told herself. It’s the middle of the day. No one is going to abduct your daughter in the middle of the day. What if she was abducted last night? she worried.

  She dialed Rose again.

  “Rose, please, you’ve got to pick up!”

  The dean, she thought. You’re going to need keys into the building. How could the killer get into a college dorm building? That doesn’t matter right now! Don’t cause a panic. Not yet. Nothing has happened. Get there and assess the situation.

  Rose’s dorm was an average four-story building on one of the campus’s main strips. The bottom half was a white-gray stone; from the second floor up it was red.

  Avery parked on the street, her car askew and lights flashing.

  No doorman worked the building. The glass doors were locked and there were cameras outside and in the foyer.

  Calm down, she reminded herself. No one could have gotten in here. Too much traffic.

  Sure enough, a second later a young girl opened the door.

  Avery immediately flashed her badge.

  “Rose,” she said. “Rose Black. What room is she in?”

  “What?”

  “Rose Black. She’s a freshman here. She’s about this high. Blond hair. Blue eyes. Looks a lot like me? Loves to cop an attitude?”

  “I’m sorry but I don’t know her.”

  Avery moved inside the building.

  The lobby opened up into two long hallways. An elevator bank was directly ahead.

  Where are you? Where are you?

  She tried the phone again.

  Voicemail.

  Avery hung up and thought about calling Jack. You call Jack and he’s just going to panic and come down here and you’ll have to hear about how you’re the worst mother all over again.

  Two more students appeared.

  “Detective Black. Boston A1,” she said and flashed her badge. “I’m looking for Rose Black. A freshman that lives in this dorm. Do you know her?”

  One of the boys nodded.

  “Yeah. I know her. She lives on my floor.”

  “A room,” Avery snapped. “Please. I need a room right now.”

  The boy turned to his friend.

  “What is it, Tovi? Four E? Four D? I always forget.”

  “I think it’s Four E,” his friend said, “because she’s right next to Lydia.”

  “Yeah, that’s it.” He nodded. “Four E.”

  Avery raced up the stairs.

  Don’t let my daughter be dead, she prayed. Don’t think those thoughts! she yelled at herself. Let her be safe, she corrected. Please. I’ll be a better mother. I’ll call more. I promise, she swore to whoever might be listening. I swear.

  At the fourth floor, Avery kept her eyes on the door numbers.

  The hall was tan-colored with brown carpeting.

  She placed her back to the wall, right beside Rose’s door, and unholstered her gun. With her left hand, she knocked.

  “Rose?” she called out. “Are you in there?”

  The door was unlocked.

  Shit, Avery thought.

  A quick glance at the door’s edge revealed it was broken. No, she thought on closer inspection. Not broken. It was like someone had glued both the inner locking mechanisms so they wouldn’t shut properly.

  She peeked her head inside the room.

  Empty.

  A roll along the threshold took her inside.

  The room was very spacious, with two couches, a TV, and kitchen area. She shares it with two other roommates, Avery remembered. To the right was a small hall that led to two of the bedrooms. To the left, she could see a single bedroom.

  Avery kept her gun pointed up, and at every new angle or room, she aimed on the slim chance that the killer was still there. She checked the two bedrooms first. Both were empty. Back in the living room, she inched her way across the carpeted floor to the lone bedroom. The door was closed.

  She put her hand on the knob, turned, and jumped inside.

  Rose was in a towel with headphones on. A small iPod was attached to the towel, and she was singing along with the tune in her ears and dancing. A spin and she noticed Avery and the gun and she screamed.

  “Ahh!”

  “Oh my god, honey,” Avery said.

  She grabbed Rose around the neck and kissed her forehead.

  “Thank god you’re all right.”

  Rose pushed her away.

  “Mom! What the hell? What are you doing here?”

  Avery ignored her to check the closet in her room, and under the bed.

  “You’re alone, right?” she said. “Has anyone come by here recently? Either last night or this morning? Anyone that seemed out of the ordinary? A mechanic? Electrician?”

  “Mom, what the hell is going on? You’re freaking me out.”

  “Answer me. Please, Rose. Just answer the question.”

  “No. No one has come by. Why?”

  “The door is broke,” Avery said. “Why is the door broke?”

  Rose rolled her eyes.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Probably some stupid college prank. It was like that yesterday afternoon. The floor RA said he was going to fix it by tonight. It’s no big deal. There are cameras everywhere. No one is going to come in and steal anything. What are you doing here?” she asked again. “Answer me!”

  Avery pulled out a copy of the killer’s latest note.

  “That killer,” Avery said and handed it to Rose. “The one that made me miss our picnic? He sent another letter to the paper. It was addressed to me. I must be getting clos
e. He doesn’t like it. He made a threat. With some help, I was able to decipher it today. Your birthdate is on that list. He threatened you, Rose. Now your door is broken—”

  Rose turned red with anger.

  “This is pathetic, you know that, right? Pathetic. Is this the only way you can think of to get back into my life? You create some fantastic scenario and scare me half to death?”

  “Rose.”

  “You’re out of your mind. You’re totally out of your mind.”

  Rose tried to push her away.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Avery said.

  “I want to get dressed. Get out of my room.”

  “You’re not leaving my sight.”

  She holstered her gun and called it in on her walkie-talkie.

  “I need backup. Right now,” and she gave the address. “I have reason to believe our killer has targeted my daughter. Get here as fast as you can.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

  Dylan Connelly showed up with Thompson. They were with two other officers Avery had seen around but had never officially met.

  Rose was dressed and seething on the living room couch.

  “I’m being held prisoner!” she yelled at the police as they walked in the door. “Can you get this crazy psycho mother out of my room!?”

  Connelly had a concerned look on his face.

  “What happened?”

  “I broke the killer’s code on the second letter,” Avery said. “He gave us a list of dates, dates that wouldn’t mean anything to anyone else. Rose’s birthday was on it.”

  “How many dates are we talking about?”

  “Hundreds.”

  “Hundreds?” Connelly noted. “What if it’s just a coincidence?”

  “It’s not a coincidence. He wanted me to find it. He’s targeting Rose. She’s a mutable sign. He’s already killed two other mutable signs.”

  Connelly waved his hands around his head.

  “Whoa, whoa,” he said. “Slow down. What the hell are you talking about?”

  Thompson was so big he could barely fit through the door. At the mention of mutable signs, he nodded in understanding.

  “Mutable signs break things down,” he said. “They’re like the fire that burns a building, but in a good way because the building gets to be rebuilt.”

  Connelly glanced over at him.

  “Did I ask you?”

  “I thought it was a general question.”

  “Mutable,” Avery said. “It’s a type of sign. Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius, and Pisces. They’re all mutable signs, adaptable, changing. The killer has already killed a Gemini and a Virgo. Rose is a Sagittarius. She’s on that list. I’m telling you, she’s been targeted. The door is broke. Look at the door!”

  Connelly ran his hands along the door frame.

  “Could have been a college prank.”

  “That’s what I said,” Rose yelled.

  “It’s not a college prank,” Avery snapped. “I’m not crazy. That’s exactly what the killer wants you to think. He did this to send me a message.”

  “All right, all right,” Connelly moaned, “let’s take this one step at a time. Thompson, check all the cameras. Make sure they’re working properly. Sullivan, see if you can’t track down the supervisor of this hall. We want access to the camera room. Fagen,” he said to the last officer, “knock on every door in this hall. Ask if any of the students have noticed anything suspicious in the last—” And he glanced at Avery for the rest.

  “Two days,” she said. “The lock was broken yesterday. He would have been here. Someone dressed as a mechanic or electrician or school official. Basically, someone that looked official in some way and was tampering with that lock. Where are your roommates?” she asked Rose.

  “They’re at class.”

  “Somebody must have let this guy in. Maybe it was one of them. Do you know what classes they’re in? Where they are?”

  Rose gave her the information.

  “Fagen,” Connelly said. “Forget about knocking on doors. I’ll handle that. Just go after the two roommates. We’ll need to take statements. Are you all right?” he said to Avery. “You look pretty shaken up.”

  “Since when do you care?” Avery snapped.

  Harsh, she thought the second the words had left her mouth. You have to calm down. Relax. Breathe in like you did at Davi’s. Although Connelly had been a real jerk on her first homicide case, he’d eventually come around. Since then, they rarely had much contact, despite the fact that he was technically her supervisor.

  “Sorry,” Avery quickly recovered. “I think I’m just in shock. How could someone get so deep into a college dorm?”

  “That’s what we’re here to figure out,” Connelly said. “For right now, just try and relax. Take a seat. Let me and the boys handle things for a while.”

  “Can I please leave?” Rose demanded with her arms folded.

  “Listen,” Connelly said. “Even if your mother is wrong on this one, she’s all stressed out right now because she cares about you. Try to remember that. And what happens if she’s right? Good to have a mom like this on your side.”

  Connelly seemed genuinely empathetic in that moment, fatherly, and it made Avery look at him in a completely different light.

  “Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re never nice.”

  He made a face at her and flicked his wrist.

  “Come on,” he howled. “You’re a fuck-up and you know it. Half the time, you do whatever you want. You don’t care about protocol or anyone else. Sure, you’re smart. You solve cases. You’re a good cop, but you rub everyone the wrong way, including me. It’s fucking annoying. You’re like a little bug that keeps buzzing in my ear. But we’re supposed to be a team, right?” He looked her in the eyes. “And teams stick together.”

  Thompson appeared panicked when he came back into the room.

  “The cameras are fucked,” he said.

  “What do you mean ‘the cameras are fucked’?” Connelly demanded. “Don’t just come in here and say shit like that. Can’t you see we’ve got a young girl here?”

  Rose was listening from the couch.

  “Sorry,” Thompson said and lowered his voice. “There are two cameras on every floor, one on each side. On this floor, the one at the other end is fine, but the closer one has some kind of filmy substance on it. Looks fine from a casual glance, but if you slide your finger over it you can feel the stuff, like a glaze. Elevator camera has the same residue, and so do the cameras in the lobby.”

  “Shit,” Connelly whispered.

  “I knew it,” Avery said. “I knew he’d been here.”

  Rose rubbed herself from a chill. She’d heard most of it, and the realization that it hadn’t been a prank, that maybe someone had purposefully destroyed her lock, was hard to absorb. She glanced at Avery and found her mother staring right back at her.

  “We’ll get him,” Avery said. “It’s going to be fine. You’re all right.”

  “What do we do now?” Thompson wondered.

  “How far did you get on the BU list for Professor Williams?” Avery asked.

  “They’re going to send me a complete list by the end of the day.”

  “What about the bookstores?”

  “I already have that,” Thompson said. “The spiritual bookstore gave me twelve names. The other one had a lot more: twenty-two. Out of all of them, about half were women.”

  “So we’ve got at least sixteen or seventeen names with a possible killer on them. He definitely came here. Somebody had to have seen him. If we can get a sketch that will narrow down the search.”

  She turned to Connelly.

  “How many safe houses do we have open?”

  “Right now? Probably two.”

  “Can we get Rose into one?”

  “Of course,” he said. “I can arrange that.”

  “A safe house?” Rose worried.

 
“No way are you staying here,” Avery swore. “No way.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

  The safe house was located in the wealthy section of Beacon Hill. Avery drove Rose while Connelly led the way. Rose complained the entire time.

  “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “It’s for your own protection,” Avery insisted.

  “Because of you,” Rose spit. “You’re the reason this is happening. Why don’t you just stay out of my life? You always make things worse.”

  Anger welled up inside of Avery.

  “I’ve had just about enough of this,” she snapped. “You’re my daughter. I care about you, I pay for your college, and I’m trying to save your life.”

  “I don’t need your money!” Rose fired back. “I can get a scholarship. I don’t need you at all! When were you ever there for me? Huh? When!?”

  “Right now!” Avery screamed. “I’m here right now!”

  She lowered her voice and continued.

  “I know I was a shitty mom. I’m tired of hearing about it. I know I let you down a hundred times, and I let you down again this week. I’m sorry. How many times do I have to say I’m sorry?” Avery cried, then yelled, “Because I’m getting really sick of it! This is who I am. I’m trying to be better, I swear I am, but this is who I am! Either try to accept me, or go right ahead: cut all ties. This can be the last time you see me again. But you are going to that safe house, and you will stay there until I catch this guy. And if you’re not happy with that I can always arrest you and put you in a jail cell at the A1.”

  Silence followed.

  Avery kept glancing at her rearview mirror to make sure they weren’t being followed. The killer had gotten under her skin; he’d invaded her life, taken a bold move against her daughter, and Avery had no idea how. In her mind, his persona had grown a thousandfold.

  “What am I going to do at an empty house?” Rose complained. “You won’t even give me a computer or a phone.”

  “You’ve got your books,” Avery said. “I’ll have someone bring you your assignments. Computers and phones can be tracked. You need to disappear. It’s the only way I’ll feel confident that you’re safe.”

  Rose glanced out the window.

  “I wish I had a real mom,” she whispered.