Dominic blew out a sigh. “Well, that explains why she would ask Serena about you.”
Colton stood, a determined light now shining in his gaze. “You don’t have to call me now. Jillian was what I wanted to talk about, but sounds like I need to talk to Serena.”
“I can tell you right now, she doesn’t know where Jillian is. She said Jillian called, asked a few questions, and said she’d be coming home soon, that she had things she needed to take care of.”
The light dimmed. “Tell Serena I want to know the minute she hears from Jillian. I have a few things to take care of myself.”
Colton turned on his heel and exited the conference room. Dominic watched the man go, then noticed Hunter and Katie lingering in the hallway. “What’s up?” he asked them.
“Any word on the package left on your doorstep?” Hunter asked.
“No, Rick said he’d call me if he found anything he hadn’t already told me. The dolls are handmade, carved, sanded, painted, and dressed with handmade items.”
Katie’s brows drew together. “Is it a special kind of wood or . . . ?”
Dominic shook his head. “It’s a soft balsa wood. Very common and found at any home improvement store.”
“So the killer may fancy himself as some kind of artist.” Katie pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes.
Dominic touched her shoulder, concerned. “You okay?”
She grimaced and dropped her hand. “Yes. Just a bit of a headache.”
“You need some time off? It hasn’t been that long since you were shot.”
She straightened her shoulders, her posture defensive. “I’m fine. What else needs to be done?”
Hunter said, “This guy may have some artistic talent, but all the handmade stuff could be that he just wants to make sure he’s not leaving a trail behind. Common wood, no store-bought clothes.”
Katie nodded. “But store-bought fabric. He has to get the fabric from somewhere to make the clothes, right?”
Dominic rubbed the side of his nose. “True. That might be a good place to start. Katie, you want to talk to Rick and see if he can come up with some ideas of where the fabric may have come from? You know, is it fancy stuff sold only in upscale fabric stores, or is it something we can’t trace because it came from a local chain?”
“Sure. I’m on it.”
“Thanks.” She headed off and Hunter glanced at his watch. Dominic asked, “You need to be somewhere?”
“Not yet.” Hunter rubbed his hands together, then shoved them in his pockets.
Dominic frowned. “You’re nervous about something. What is it?”
Hunter blew out a deep breath, looked up the hallway, then back down. He leaned in close. “I’m meeting Alexia for lunch.”
“Yeah? So?”
“And . . . uh . . . we’re going to . . . uh . . . a store.”
“A store.”
“Right.”
Suspicion hit him. “And what store would that be?”
Hunter rocked back on his heels, then grinned, nervousness fading to be replaced by glee. “Reed’s.”
“Reed’s. As in . . . ?” He tapped his ring finger on his left hand.
“Yep. As in.”
“She’s not a diamond kind of girl,” Dominic said.
Hunter pursed his lips. “I think I’m aware of that, thanks.”
“Go with a pearl engagement ring and you’ll nail it.”
“She said a small one, nothing fancy.”
Dominic hesitated. “I’d go somewhere in between.”
Hunter let out another breath. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. Thanks.”
Dominic slapped the man on the back. “Now let’s go see if we can find this killer before your lunch date.”
All nervousness fled Hunter’s face as his eyes hardened with determination. “Let’s do it.”
15
WEDNESDAY, 10:20 A.M.
Once they found the body, the cops would swarm the crime scene like ants on a discarded candy bar. Well, they could look all they wanted, but they’d never find what they were looking for.
HE always said cops were dumb.
And of course, HE’d been proven right. But sometimes cops got lucky. It might be best to tread carefully regardless.
Tension slithered through the killer as the prey came into sight. The hunt for the next player in the game was almost as exciting as the capture—and the kill.
Kelsey Nicholson exited the doctor’s office.
Hunkering down in the backseat of Kelsey’s Subaru, the killer popped the plastic cover off the needle.
Serena’s nerves hopped as she pushed the half-finished cup of coffee aside. She was antsy, restless. And not just from all of the caffeine she’d inhaled over the last few hours. She still couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that she’d been so close to kissing Dominic.
And the fact that she wouldn’t mind an instant replay of the moment in the kitchen.
Minus the ringing doorbell and the package left on the porch and Dominic’s mad dash into the night to chase after a possible killer and . . .
Focus. Focus. Focus.
She’d pulled the files on all of the victims of the Doll Maker Killer. All nine. Nine missing women. Ranging in age from twenty-two to thirty-eight. All Caucasian. All very pretty. All killed in Columbia, South Carolina, over a three-year period—1992 to 1995. And then the killings just stopped.
Or the killer started hiding the bodies instead of placing them where they could be found.
Nevertheless, all was silent for a year, then Drake Lindell was arrested after authorities received an anonymous tip, along with a picture of two of the victims alive and in the room the caller said needed to be searched. That had been enough to get a search warrant for a room below a shed on the man’s property.
They’d searched the area and found more than enough evidence to put Drake away.
Serena took each of Lindell’s victims’ files and laid them on the counter space she’d cleared for this purpose. She wondered if these nine could possibly have any connection to the nine missing women mentioned at Dominic’s house the other night. She made a note to ask.
“What are you doing?”
Serena turned to see Paul standing in the doorway. “Hey there.” She turned back to the files. “I was curious about something, so I’m looking for some answers.”
“We’ve got a light workload today. Want some help?”
“Possibly.” She waved him over. “Take a look at these. All of these girls were murdered by the same guy. His signature is all over the murders.”
“And?”
“And someone is copying him. But who? Who would have inside knowledge into how he worked? The details of the scenes?” She thought about everything she knew. “Was there any detail the cops didn’t release to the media?”
“You’re talking to yourself, aren’t you?”
She jerked. “Yes.”
“Good, because I don’t know any of the answers.” Paul picked up the nearest file. “Cause of death—gunshot to the forehead.”
“Right.”
“And he left a package with a doll in it,” he muttered.
“Right again. According to the authorities, the original Doll Maker Killer was indiscriminate about what the dolls looked like. This time around, we’re not sure yet if the killer will use the dolls to represent his next victim.”
“What do you mean?”
“This new killer is taking a lot of the Doll Maker Killer’s modus operandi and using them, but he’s also coming into his own.”
“As a killer.”
“Unfortunately.”
“But there’s only been one person killed,” Paul pointed out.
“We have one body,” Serena corrected. “One body and two dolls.” She told him about the special delivery Dominic had received last night. “The first doll looked like Leslie, with blue eyes and straight black hair. The doll found on Dominic’s porch had curly brown hair and
green eyes. But this time, unlike the original Doll Maker Killer, this killer didn’t leave a body with the doll.”
“Sick.” Paul shook his head. “And I don’t mean ‘sick’ as in ‘awesome.’ I mean that’s just sick.”
Serena gave a short nod. “I know. Definitely a very twisted person.”
Her assistant nodded. “Right.” His frown deepened. “That’s kind of scary, Serena.”
“Tell me about it. Rick brought up a good point. If the Doll Maker Killer left a doll, there should be a body somewhere.” The more she thought about it, the more she knew that was right.
“So where’s the body? The one that goes with Dominic’s package.”
She sighed. “He could have killed her and buried her anywhere. We won’t find her unless he wants us to.”
Paul’s lips twisted. “You’ll find it.”
“You sound awfully sure of that.”
“Well, think about it. Why leave the gifts if he’s not going to give you the body? Isn’t that the whole point?” He shook his head. “She’ll turn up.”
Serena had a feeling he was right. “But this is another aberration. The original Doll Maker Killer never sent his packages ahead of time. They always came with the body. So, I don’t think we can predict what this killer will do based on what the first killer did.”
Paul asked, “Where were all of these girls found? Were they spread out or in the same general area?”
“I don’t know. I’m just getting ready to pull out the corkboard and a city map and make me a little diagram.”
Paul grinned at her. “Isn’t that the cops’ job?”
Serena lifted a brow at him. “Yes, and they’re doing it, but I’m curious. I’ve hung around enough cops to know how this works.”
He set the file down. “I’ll get the board for you.”
“Thanks.”
Five minutes later, she had her map pinned to the 3' × 5' corkboard and was ready to start using her pushpins.
A knock on the door interrupted her. She turned and looked to see Dominic standing there, watching her. “Hi.”
“Hey there.” He nodded at the board. “What are you up to?”
“Playing detective.”
One of his brows lifted. “Hmm. How’s it working for you?”
“Well, I’ve only gotten started. You want to help?”
“Of course. I’ve played that game a time or two. Seem to have a knack for it, as a matter of fact.”
She smirked and handed him a file. “Funny. Dominic, meet Paul Hamilton, my assistant. Paul, meet FBI Special Agent Dominic Allen.” The two men shook hands. Dominic opened the file as Serena said, “Victim number one. Cori Hale.” She paused and looked at Paul. “Will you mark the victims’ addresses on the wall map? I have some pushpins in the tray. Use the red ones if you don’t mind.”
“Sure.” Paul snagged a few of the red pins.
Dominic read the information as Serena filled in the chart on the white board and Paul pinned the addresses. Dominic looked up at her and said, “You know we have computer software that will do this for us.”
“I know, but I don’t have access to that and I’m a hands-on kind of girl. Humor me, will you?”
He smiled. “Of course.”
By the end of the ninth victim, Serena studied the map and frowned. “They’re from all over the place.”
“No obvious pattern there,” Dominic murmured. “How about use a different color pushpin to mark the places where they were found.”
Serena nodded. “Good idea.”
“Got it,” Paul said.
Dominic started back with the first victim. Nine blue pushpins soon dotted the map.
“Where did the Lindells live?” Serena asked.
Dominic pulled out his iPhone and tapped a few keys. “Near the Five Points area.” He picked up a white pin and pressed it into the map. “Right about there.”
“You really think this is going to help anything?” Paul asked.
Serena lifted a brow at him. “I have no idea.” She stacked the files. “And you know Rick said there could be more. They just knew about the nine.” She sighed and looked at their work. “So, we really might not have a complete picture of everything.”
“True.” Dominic nodded as he studied the map. “What if we connect the dots?”
“Well, that was the plan, but,” Serena frowned, “I’m not seeing a pattern here.”
“If we used the latest technology, it would be a simple matter of pressing a button. But if you want to do it the old-fashioned way, I’ll need some string. You have some?”
“Yes.” She walked over to a metal drawer and pulled it open. “Kite string.”
“That’ll work.” Dominic took it from her.
“Need some scissors?” Paul asked.
“Yep.”
For the next thirty minutes, the three of them did their best to come up with some kind of pattern linking the deaths. Dominic finally sighed. “I give up.” Lifting his iPhone, he snapped a picture of the map. “I’m going to give this to the geographic profiler and ask him to enter it into the computer. We’ll see what he comes up with.”
Serena nodded. “Good idea. We’re just wasting time here.” She studied the map. “Just one more thing.” She snagged two yellow pushpins. “Let’s add Leslie to the map.” She pushed one into the area containing Leslie’s address and one into the park where she’d been found.
Paul snagged a few more of the pins. “Might as well add Dominic’s house.”
“What?”
He shrugged. “That’s where you found the last package, right?”
Serena exchanged a glance with Dominic, who shrugged. “Why not? At this point, it’s not a bad idea.”
“Are you sure the body isn’t somewhere on your property?” Paul mused. “Seems like all the bodies were found in close proximity to the package.”
Dominic shook his head. “We searched every square inch of that property last night. There’s definitely no body there.”
Paul frowned, then shrugged.
Serena asked, “Was there any detail about the killings that the police didn’t release to the media?”
Dominic pursed his lips. “Yeah. The fact that the killer cleaned them up.”
“And some of the victims had more than one bullet hole. I mean besides the one in the forehead.”
“Right. Some were in the shoulder, one was in the throat.”
“But always the upper torso.”
He gave a slow nod. “Yes. Why?”
“Just an observation. Leslie was the same way,” Serena said.
Dominic snapped several more pictures. “I’m going to start tracking down Drake Lindell’s kids.”
“I want to go with you. When are you going and who are you going to talk to first?” Her heart thudded. That was out of the ordinary. The ME didn’t usually go with the FBI agent while he investigated a case. But maybe Dominic would make an exception for her.
When he didn’t immediately say no, her hopes rose. Spending more time with Dominic was definitely high on her want-to-do list.
She could get excited about that.
“Right now. And probably Nate, since he’s the easiest one to find.”
Her hope deflated like a stuck balloon.
Work came first.
Serena did a quick mental inventory of her caseload for the rest of the day and winced. It was practically nonexistent. Like Paul said, she only had one, a hit-and-run victim. Another woman about her age.
And she was finished with her.
She would have her phone with her if they needed her. But the paperwork she still had . . .
“I can come if you don’t mind. I may have to work a little later tonight, but I want to go with you.” She hardened her jaw. “By leaving that package on your porch, the killer’s made this personal.”
“That’s the way I feel about it.” His phone rang.
Serena helped Paul put the supplies away while Dominic put the phone to
his ear. “Dominic here.” Silence while he listened. Then, “I’ll be right there.”
At the grim tone, she turned. “What is it?”
“I think we’ve found the body that the doll from my porch belongs to.”
“Where is she?”
He swiped a hand over his eyes and looked at the multicolored pinned map, then at Paul. “In the storage shed in my backyard.”
16
WEDNESDAY, 11:58 A.M.
“I just came to borrow the lawn mower like you said I could, and when I opened up the door, there she was!” Mr. Eric White exclaimed with a wave of his wrinkled hand.
Dominic patted his seventy-year-old neighbor’s shoulder to calm the man down, which was an effort considering his blood hummed through his own veins like a current out of control.
But he’d had a lot of practice hiding that. With confidence, he said, “It’s all right, Mr. White. We’ll take it from here.”
“But I don’t understand.” Mr. White’s red-rimmed blue eyes flashed his worry. “Why would she be sitting in your shed, dressed like she’s going to a party?”
Dressed like she’s going to a party?
Dominic’s head snapped up and he shot a look at Serena. “Just like my doll?”
“Let’s find out,” Serena said.
A uniformed officer took over questioning Mr. White while Dominic led the way to the shed. Another officer handed him a pair of blue booties to slip over his shoes. Serena took a pair too. He heard her snap on gloves, then felt her shove a pair into his left hand.
He gripped them, balling them in his fist. “She wasn’t here last night. This place was thoroughly searched after I found that package.”
“I know.” Serena’s soft agreement echoed around him.
The sliding door was open, the light was on. And a young woman sat on the wooden bench he’d nailed to the wall to support himself when he worked on his hobby.
He built trains as a stress reliever. Loved to watch them come together and run around the track. The meticulous detail work let him push every other thought from his head.
When a Heart Stops Page 10