FADE TO BLACK - Thrilling Romantic Suspense - Book 1 of the BLACK CATS Series

by Leslie A. Kelly

  Stacey stiffened. “Only what?”

  “Only, Carl mighta said something about us investigating a murder.”

  “Shit,” Dean muttered.

  The last thing they wanted was to tip off the Reaper that they were onto him. Getting out here and conducting a search as secretly as possible had been one reason for keeping the response team so small, despite the availability of some of Stacey’s other officers. They did not want to scare the guy off and send him into hiding.

  The revelation also made his impressions of Warren Lee tighten to a sharper point, a tension that pounded into his gut like every good instinct did. Because that man had known something. Dean would stake his career on it.

  “God, I don’t want to deal with this.”

  Stacey’s heavy sigh reminded him that there was yet another reason they didn’t want word to get out. When he saw her rub a weary hand over her eyes, and noted the slump of her shoulders, he knew what she was thinking.

  “I’m going to have to go talk to Winnie Freed,” she mumbled. “Lisa’s mother.”

  Dean stepped closer, instinct making him drop a hand on her shoulder. “So soon?”

  She nodded. “Warren’s going to be screaming to anybody who’ll listen that we’re trampling on his rights while looking for a murder victim. There’s only one missing person in this whole town. Word will get back to Winnie by nightfall.” She finally appeared to notice Dean’s hand. Staring at it, then casting a quick glance at her deputies, she stepped away, but not before offering him a small nod of appreciation. “I’ve never had to do that before. Personally notify the next of kin.”

  It was her job; she’d have to do it sooner or later, but he didn’t envy her. He’d delivered that kind of news enough to know she was in for a rough scene. And her friendliness with the family was going to make it harder.

  “Let me come with you,” he offered.

  The idea made sense. He, Stokes, and Mulrooney would need to question the victim’s family and friends. They’d intended to start after completing the entire search, but the potential exposure of the reason for their presence in Hope Valley had put them up against a ticking clock. Interviews were the better bet right now. Compiling a list of suspects, people who’d known Lisa, who’d been at the tavern that night, who frequently left town, who flashed new money around. There were lots of questions to ask, lots of people to talk to. The victim’s soon-to-be-grieving mother was as good a place to start as any.

  There was another clock clicking even louder in Dean’s mind. The one at Satan’s Playground. Another auction was going down soon; it could already have taken place. As much as he wanted to locate Lisa’s body, he already feared that any evidence they found wouldn’t give them enough to nail the bastard in time to stop him.

  Or to save whoever he targeted next.

  Amber Torrington’s day had blown from the start.

  First, her lame parents had refused to pay the deductible to repair her dented car. Like it was her fault dumb-ass drivers kept pulling out in front of her, or going too slow, causing her to hit them.

  She’d broken a nail and couldn’t get an appointment to have it fixed for two days. Time to find another nail salon, because they’d been rude on the phone when she’d demanded that they squeeze her in.

  Then Justin had told her he hadn’t been able to score tickets for tomorrow night’s concert she’d been dying to go to. That fat cow Kelsey had acted all disappointed for her, rubbing it in that she had tickets. She’d even had the nerve to ask Amber to use her employee discount so she could get something new to wear to it.

  This had to be her worst hair day ever. She felt a zit forming on her chin. And her psycho of a boss at the trendy shop where she worked had spent the last hour, after closing, grilling her about some missing clothes until they’d ended up in a screaming match.

  Might be time to get another job. One where she could wear all her new clothes.

  Thankfully, the day was almost over. There was only an hour for something else to go wrong in her life. God, what she wouldn’t give to get into her convertible, head for 95, and drive south. Florida would be good. Anywhere but the boringest place on the planet, known as Rockville, MD.

  Imagining riding with the top down along the coast—maybe with some Southern hottie who’d be way better than Justin—she didn’t even notice that she was not alone until she almost ran into the black-cloaked figure in front of her.

  “Watch where you’re going, dickhead,” she snapped when the guy stepped in her way as she walked through the darkened parking lot to her car. Too bad she hadn’t parked it close to the mall exit. She always left her baby way out in nowhereland so no careless asshole would open his door and ding it up. But since it was already banged up from last weekend’s fender-bender, she needn’t have bothered.

  “Can you help me?” asked the guy who’d almost bumped into her.

  “No, I can’t. Now get the hell out of the way.”

  “That’s not very nice,” he whispered. “Not very ladylike.”

  Finally really looking at him, she noticed his clothes. He wore a long, dark coat, with the collar turned up to shield most of his face. On his head, covering his hair and tugged almost down over his eyes, was a plain black baseball cap. Not exactly normal dress for eleven o’clock on a hot summer night.

  Suddenly uncomfortable, she stepped to the side, to go around him. He mirrored the movement, blocking her again.

  “What’s wrong with you? Are you some kind of a retard?”

  He tsked, shaking his head. “You’re a very mean girl. Nasty. Somebody should do something about that.”

  A hint of fear clutched at her spine and crawled up Amber’s back like a tiny spider. “Leave me alone.”

  “I can’t do that. Wouldn’t be gentlemanly to leave you here all on your own.”

  Gentlemanly. Was this dude for real? “I can take care of myself.”

  She felt around in her purse, mentally kicking herself for not getting her keys out inside, like they always said you should. And for parking on the opposite side of the mall, far from where her boss usually parked. She was mad at the sour-faced witch, but right now, she would like nothing more than to see her come walking out that door, especially if she was accompanied by the security guard who’d stopped by the store fifteen minutes ago to see what all the yelling was about.

  But she knew that wouldn’t happen. The guy had gotten a radio call about an exterior break-in alarm going off at one of the big, high-end department stores. The last time she saw him he and the other guards had been racing there to check it out. That store was all the way on the other side of the enormous mall.

  “I mean it; get out of my way or I’m going to scream.”

  He laughed softly, as if knowing nobody was close enough to hear. “Go ahead.”

  Maybe he did know. What if he set off that alarm?

  Even tenser now, she looked around frantically. Her car was a good twenty spaces down the aisle. The only other vehicle in sight was a covered pickup a few yards away. His? A thick stand of trees separated the mall from the closest road. Despite seeing the glimmer of color as yellow faded to red on the closest stoplight, she couldn’t make out a single pair of headlights. Not one car. Not one person.

  Nobody anywhere.

  The blacktop suddenly seemed as big as a dark sea, the distance between her and her car enormous. Small puddles of gold fell here and there from the overhead lights, but not in this part of the lot. Nothing shone down on the two of them. She suddenly realized why when she saw glass twinkling on the ground.

  The closest streetlight had been shot out. As had the one past that. And the next.

  Growing frantic, she glanced toward the glass doors she’d just come through. There were video cameras posted above every entrance into the mall, and at least one guard was supposed to be watching them from the security office at all times. If she waved, maybe …

  The camera was dangling by its own wires. Oh, fuck. She was in seri
ous trouble.

  “I heard what you said to that girl.”

  All the air left her lungs in a quick, shocked exhalation.

  “The one who wanted to use your discount.”

  The guy had been watching her? Following her? And she’d never noticed?

  “I heard you and your boss yelling at each other, too. Those were some bad words you were using, Amber. I could hear you all the way in the back of the stockroom.”

  He’d been in the stockroom.

  Apparently seeing her shock and confusion, he explained, “Your boss probably should have locked the back door after that delivery.”

  The delivery. At six o’clock. He had been watching her for hours. He’d sneaked into the store through the rear employees-only entrance by the trash Dumpsters and they’d never even realized it?

  Genuinely panicking now, she tried to dart around him, but he lunged after her, his fingers digging painfully into her upper arm. He spun her around, grabbing the other arm, keeping her in place.

  She struggled violently. Her purse fell, its contents spilling onto the ground. Remembering a safety tip she’d once heard, she forced herself to let her legs collapse, leaving her entire body weight in his hands.

  The move took him off guard, and he dropped her with a grunt. Amber landed on her knees, hard on the blacktop. She thought about the keys, but instead lunged for her phone. “I’m calling the cops!”

  He stared down at her, not appearing the least bit concerned. Swinging his hand, he slapped the phone out of her fingers as easily as he would have shooed away a bug.

  That was when she saw what was in his other hand. And fear turned to terror.

  “They won’t get here in time.”

  CHAPTER 6

  WINNIE FREED HADN’T BEEN HOME the previous evening.

  Stacey had been prepared to break the news, as gently as possible, to Lisa’s mother, but when she and Dean had arrived there, the small house had been empty. A neighbor had told them Winnie was working evenings through the weekend at the hotel. And Stan, who’d recently taken a second job to make ends meet, was pulling the night shift all the way over in Leesburg.

  She hadn’t known whether to be disappointed or relieved. Never having been the type to put off an unpleasant task, since the stressing over it was often worse than the doing, she was probably more the former.

  Dean hadn’t been happy, either. In fact, she’d sensed his frustration was even greater than her own. Learning why, when he’d told her this sick psycho killer was setting up his next crime, she understood.

  She’d considered notifying Winnie at work. Since the woman had been away from town all day, however, she couldn’t have heard any rumors yet. And she didn’t expect Winnie to be able to help much with the case. Meeting with Lisa’s mother would be more about comforting the woman in her grief than getting any real information that could help them, so she’d decided to wait until morning.

  Spending the rest of the evening in her office with Dean and his two coworkers, Special Agents Stokes and Mulrooney, she’d given them everything she had on the case. She liked Jackie Stokes. They’d hit it off right away, possibly because they both knew what it was like to be a woman in a male-dominated field.

  Kyle Mulrooney took a little getting used to. He was mouthy and he swaggered. But there was something about the twinkle in his eye and his genuine grin that enabled her to see past the blustery exterior. He might have been keeping up a series of running jokes in her office last night, when she’d briefed the three agents on everything she knew about the people in Lisa’s life, but he also hadn’t missed a single detail.

  One of the most interesting things Mulrooney had pointed out was that Lisa was unlike the other victims in one way: They had been normal working women, students, all from good backgrounds, leading average lives. Lisa, however, had been one of society’s throwaways. Nearly everyone had given her up as no good, destined only for a bad end, though most people had figured she was headed for jail rather than a cold, vicious death.

  Stacey included, to her eternal regret.

  That acknowledgement had kept her awake for hours after she’d fallen into bed, exhausted but unable to shut her brain down. Her mind was awash with the case, the possibility that someone here in Hope Valley might have murdered eight people.

  When she’d finally thrust those thoughts away, late in the night, Dean Taggert had taken up residence in her head and done his little number on her, too.

  “Not gonna go there today,” she reminded herself as she got into her car at seven a.m. Saturday. She had made a mental deal with herself before finally succumbing to sheer fatigue the night before. She’d remain all business with Taggert until he made it clear he was interested in more than that.

  Stacey was no old-fashioned, the-guy-has-to-make-the-first-move kind of woman, but the stakes were too high for her to do anything else. She was out of her depth, unsure how to proceed. If exploring the unexpected attraction between them was okay on his part despite his job, this case, and his obviously screwed-up personal life, it’d be okay with her. But she couldn’t make that decision for him.

  “So for once, let a man take the lead,” she muttered as she backed out of her driveway. Even though she already hated the very thought of it. She’d called the shots in every relationship she’d ever had. And maybe that’s why you haven’t had very many.

  Ignoring the little voice in her head, she took off, heading not downtown, but toward the road leading out of Hope Valley. Though she had plans to meet the FBI agents at her office at eight thirty, she had a stop to make first. There weren’t many people she could talk to about this case; not many who’d even be able to comprehend it, much less treat it with the absolute secrecy that it demanded.

  She could, however, think of one.

  “Hi, Dad,” she said when he answered his front door about ten minutes later. Normally, since she had a key, she would have let herself in. Peeking into the window of the closed garage, however, and seeing Connie’s car parked inside, she hadn’t done it.

  Let them think they were fooling the town. They both deserved a little happiness in their not-so-secret affair.

  The look on his face—concern instead of embarrassment at potentially being caught with an overnight girlfriend—confirmed that he already knew what was going on. “Figured you’d be showing up soon.”

  An early riser all his life, Ed Rhodes had never gotten used to the habit of being a layabed, as he called it. He was already dressed, in long khaki shorts and a tropical shirt. Stacey hid a smile; Connie had obviously picked out this ensemble.

  “Come here and give your old man a hug.” Reaching out, he enfolded her in his arms and drew her against his solid chest. Stacey closed her eyes, hugged him, and let herself be his daughter for a moment.

  But as soon as he released her, she went back to being his successor as sheriff. “Got some time to talk?”

  “Coffee’s on. I’ll grab us some and meet you back here.”

  Nodding, she walked across the porch, hearing the familiar creaks of the old wooden planks, once a bright white, now faded to gray, with chips of paint peeling up at the corners. Tim had lived here for the first year after he’d come back from overseas, and had promised to do all kinds of needed repairs. As was so often his habit lately, her brother had done nothing but stay to himself, vacillating between bouts of anger and sorrow, lashing out at anyone who even tried to help him.

  Now Tim had his own small place, and their father was once again alone, but he’d never leave. Her family had lived here for fifty years, starting with her grandparents. And though she sometimes worried about Dad being outside of town, two miles from the closest neighbor, she couldn’t imagine him ever living anywhere else.

  Dropping her elbows onto the railing, she stared at the thick woods, the lake, and the old red barn in the distance. Then, hearing the scratch of nails on the steps, she realized she had company. “Hey, girl,” she murmured with a smile. “Out getting into trouble
?”

  She bent to scratch the tired old mutt who had shown up on her father’s porch a few winters ago and never quite left. Her dad had originally called his unexpected pet Tramp, because of the dog’s wandering tendencies. Then he’d realized she was a Lady. But she still wandered.

  “Don’t be mad at Connie for telling me,” her father said as he joined her at the railing. She hadn’t even heard him come back out.

  “I figured she would.”

  “She’s not a blabber; it didn’t go anywhere beyond me.”

  “I know.” Accepting the cup he offered her, she sat in one of the wicker rockers by the door, waiting for him to sit beside her. The dog curled up at her father’s feet, resting her head right on top of his leather loafers.

  “So what did she tell you?” Honestly, Stacey wasn’t sure what Connie knew, whether she’d been listening through keyholes or just making a lot of assumptions.

  “That the FBI is here looking for Lisa Zimmerman’s body.” Her father’s big, competent hands, gnarled with the rheumatoid arthritis that had forced him to retire before he was ready, tightened on the armrests of his chair. “That there’s some kind of movie of her being killed, and you had to watch it.”

  Listening at keyholes. Thank God the video had been a silent one.

  She sipped her coffee, trying to decide how much she could share. Her father was no random bystander; he’d been sheriff of this town for over twenty years and had lived in it for more than sixty. She trusted him like she trusted no other person on earth.

  Most important, he knew every person in the county. And while he’d probably have as much trouble as she did imagining that one of them could be a serial killer, having another set of eyes evaluating possible suspects could be very helpful.

  “This is going to be hard to hear,” she warned. “I know you were friendly with Lisa Zimmerman’s father.”

  He nodded once, indicating he was prepared for what she had to say.

  So she told him. How Lisa had died, where and when. Everything the FBI had on that case. Respecting Dean and his team, she made a point to avoid discussing specifics on other murders, expanding only on the facts that affected Hope Valley.