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When a Heart Stops

Page 23

by Lynette Eason


  “You took away my choice.”

  A frown flickered in his eyes. “I didn’t realize that’s what I was doing.”

  Serena sighed and looked away. Was she making too big a deal out of this?

  Probably. But she was worried, tired, and cranky . . . and just plain scared out of her wits. “It doesn’t matter now, I guess.”

  “Then can I drive you?”

  “Sure.”

  Serena moved with him toward the door.

  Dominic said, “I’ll have someone stay on the house until everyone is finished up here. I don’t think the guy will be back, but . . .”

  “Right.”

  As she stepped off the porch, Serena looked up to see Colton and Hunter standing next to Colton’s car. Twin grim expressions graced their faces and Serena felt her stomach twist.

  “There’s another one, isn’t there?” she whispered.

  Colton nodded.

  “She was found in the same park as Leslie, but sitting under a tree.”

  “Did she have a package?”

  Hunter nodded. “Rick’s already out there.”

  Serena firmed her jaw. “Then I guess we need to join him.”

  Dominic frowned. “Hey, what about your mom?”

  “My mother will be fine. She just needs to sleep it off. I don’t want anyone else working on these bodies. If you have two different MEs working, something might be missed.”

  “Or one might see something the other one didn’t.”

  Serena narrowed her eyes at Colton’s statement. “True. But I want this one. If you think you need to have someone go behind me, then you take that up with my boss.”

  Colton held up a hand. “I didn’t mean that, Serena.”

  Some of her anger deflated. “Sorry. I’m a little tense right now.” She looked at the men. “But I’m still going.” She paused. “Hold on a second. I want to get the yearbook.” She stomped back inside to grab the book from the shelf.

  Back outside, she asked Dominic, “Are you driving or do I need to take my own car?”

  29

  SATURDAY, 4:00 P.M.

  The killer watched from the sidelines and frowned. What was he doing? This wasn’t supposed to happen. Tension swirled. Someone was messing with a plan that had already started spiraling out of control.

  This latest problem was not going to go over well.

  At all.

  Serena and Dominic arrived at the crime scene after stopping off at the hospital for Serena to grab the items she needed to process the body.

  Serena had called her father on the way to explain this new development, and he’d assured them that all was under control at the hospital and she was to do her job without worrying about her mother. “She’s sleeping comfortably. They just want to keep an eye on her and will probably release her later this evening if nothing else develops.”

  Rick looked up and motioned her and Dominic over. Colton and Hunter brought up the rear. Serena placed her kit off to the side, not wanting to put it on the ground near the body in case the killer had left some trace evidence there.

  To Rick, she said, “Why don’t you go over this area and then I’ll move on to the body.”

  He nodded and got busy. Thirty minutes later, he said, “I didn’t get much, but maybe there’ll be something in there we can use.”

  Serena moved to the dead girl. Curly blond hair that looked natural, not bottled, blue eyes, late twenties. A pretty girl Serena didn’t need her yearbook to identify. “Hilary Meyer, head cheerleader and president of the debate team.”

  “Talented girl.”

  Serena felt grief nearly choke her. She’d known Hilary well, and while they hadn’t spoken in several years, seeing her like this was hard. All deaths were hard, but this one . . .

  Gathering her emotions together, she shoved them into a spot in her mind where she could pull them out later and deal with them. Right now, she needed to do her job.

  As she worked on Hilary, Dominic stood at her side. Silent and thoughtful. And watching. Finally, she looked up. “What is it?”

  “What’s her TOD?”

  Serena rubbed her nose with the back of her wrist. “I really hate to give out a time of death at the scene, but if you’re going to twist my arm, I would say it was anywhere from three to seven hours ago. Probably closer to four and a half to five. Her core temp is 97.9, but if she’s been sitting out here awhile, it would take longer for her to cool off in this heat. Her eyes aren’t cloudy yet, so that’s definitely less than twelve hours dead. No rigor yet, faint lividity on her hands, calves, and back, suggesting she was lying in a prone position on her back for a while after she died. Which probably was sometime between 8:30 this morning and 2:00 this afternoon.”

  Dominic frowned and gave an exasperated growl. “How is that possible?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean how was she being murdered at the same time your mother is disappearing? Both at the hands of the same person?”

  Serena frowned and tried to follow the timeline in her head. “I don’t know. It’s possible Hilary was killed around 8:30, then the killer went to my parents’ house, grabbed my mother, and took her to my house, then went back to get Hilary wherever he’d left her and . . .” She trailed off and shook her head. “We won’t know how long my mom was at my house until she wakes up and can tell us what happened.”

  Dominic rubbed his chin and Serena could feel the tension and stress emanating from him. “No, this just proves our killer has help. An accomplice. I was hoping that was wrong, but this nails it.”

  “Hey, Dominic, we’ve got a witness.”

  Dominic spun on his heel, his mind still working on the math, the timetable of events that had unfolded today. They still didn’t make sense.

  Hunter ushered a teenage boy off to the side, out of sight of the victim. Once again, the police had set up a barricade to keep the gawkers from being able to see much, but the news trucks had arrived and had their high-powered cameras aimed his way.

  Biting back words he’d quit saying years ago, he motioned that he was coming.

  Hunter kept the witness out of sight of the television cameras too. No sense in having the kid swarmed after he told Hunter and Dominic what they wanted to know.

  “What do you have?”

  “This is Corey Sims. He said he might have seen a bit of what happened over there by the tree.”

  Hunter took in the kid’s bobbing Adam’s apple and nervous licking of his lips. But he seemed willing to talk. “Tell me what you saw, son.”

  “I . . . um . . . I was meeting a friend here. We were going to toss the Frisbee awhile. Anyway, this dude wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt rides by on a bicycle with this chick hanging on his back. I noticed him because I thought that he must be crazy to have on those kind of clothes in this heat.”

  “Did you get a look at his face?”

  Corey shook his head. “No, he had on like a motorcycle helmet or something.” He shrugged. “But some people are weird. Whatever.”

  “What else?”

  “He stopped his bike and the girl just kind of slid off his back and slumped against the tree like she didn’t feel good. He got off the bike and sat down beside her.”

  “Did he ever take off the helmet?”

  “No. I almost went over and asked if they were okay, but there was just something kind of creepy about it all.”

  “Good instincts,” Dominic murmured.

  “Then he put a package in her lap and her head dropped down to look at it. He got up, said something to her, then got back on his bike and left. My friend got here and we started playing Frisbee. The next thing you know, some girl starts screaming that the woman was dead and you guys arrived.”

  “What time would you say you saw this guy put the girl under the tree?”

  Corey’s brow furrowed as he thought. He glanced at his watch. “Probably 1:00. The guy got here around 1:15. We’ve been here ever since.” A flush darkened his alr
eady sun-pinked cheeks. “When we saw all the action going on, we stayed. I figured I’d better tell someone what I saw, so I waited until you started asking questions.”

  “Thanks, Corey.” Hunter slapped the teen on his shoulder. “Can you give me a number in case I need to reach you?”

  “Sure.” Corey rattled it off and Hunter wrote it in the little black notebook he carried.

  Dominic had one just like it. He looked over at Rick and Serena, who now had the package in front of them. With gloved hands, Rick worked the top off and reached inside.

  Dominic moved closer. “What does it say?”

  “‘Eenie meenie miney moe, I like this game, I love it so. I’ll be the winner, I’ll come out on top, I play to win. You, I’ll stop.’”

  “More bad poetry.” Dominic gave a disgusted grunt and watched as Serena directed the loading of Hilary’s body into the body bag and then the back of the ambulance. They would transport her to the morgue where Serena would take over.

  “I’m really beginning to hate the stuff,” Serena agreed.

  Dominic stood beside her as they watched the ambulance pull away. “That’s four. Five, with Howard.”

  She bit her lip. “We have to stop him, Dominic. Now.”

  “I know, Serena, I know.” He tightened his jaw. “Let’s go see what we can find out from your mother.”

  They rode to the hospital in silence, each lost in thought.

  By the time Serena found herself standing in front of her mother’s door, she had a plan. A really bad, dangerous plan. One that she kept to herself because she knew exactly what Dominic would say about it. However, the only way to stop the next victim from dying was to stop the killer.

  Even if she had to set herself up as bait to do it.

  Serena’s silence worried him. The little vertical crease in the middle of her forehead told him she was thinking about something. Something serious. And she wasn’t sharing it with him. Yet.

  Serena knocked on the door.

  “Come in.” The voice sounded weak. Tired. But at least the woman was alive.

  They stepped into the room to find Mrs. Hopkins propped into a sitting position. Her eyes drooped, but she seemed coherent.

  Serena rushed to the woman’s side while Dominic shook Joel’s hand. “How’s she doing?”

  “Pretty good. Of course she’s going to be woozy awhile, but they gave her something to counteract the drug. She woke up about thirty minutes ago.”

  The two women hugged. Then Serena sat on the bed beside her mother.

  Dominic stepped over and said, “I’m glad you’re all right, Mrs. Hopkins.”

  She gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”

  “Can you tell us what happened?”

  The woman lifted a hand to her eyes and brushed aside a stray hair. “I don’t really remember much. I remember the doorbell ringing and letting the alarm system person in.”

  “What time was that?” Serena asked.

  Mrs. Hopkins’ brow furrowed. “Hmm . . . probably around 11:00 or so.”

  Dominic caught Serena’s glance and knew what she was thinking. That was right there in the range of Hilary’s time of death.

  “Then what happened?”

  “I turned to point to the alarm panel and felt a sting in the back of my neck. The next thing I know I’m waking up here.” She cast a frantic glance at her husband, who hovered in the background. “Were we robbed?”

  “No, darling,” Serena’s father hastened to reassure his traumatized wife. “No, we weren’t.”

  “Then why—”

  Serena’s father cleared his throat and motioned to Serena not to say anything.

  Dominic could see Serena’s concern. “I’m sorry, Mom. It was probably someone who just got his kicks out of hurting people. I’m sure the police will catch whoever did this.”

  Her mother’s sharp eyes said she wasn’t buying that, but then her glance landed on Serena’s father and she held her tongue.

  Dominic watched the interaction between the couple. Interesting. Joel hadn’t told the woman she could have been the serial killer’s next victim.

  “What did this person look like?”

  “He looked like . . .” She trailed off. “I don’t really know. He had on a blue jumpsuit with the security logo on the back and a matching baseball cap. Short hair.” She shrugged and bit her lip, looking so much like Serena, he almost smiled. Except there was nothing about the subject matter that was amusing. She said, “You know, I just had a glimpse. He pretty much kept his head down, looking at his clipboard when he talked.” Her voice quivered. “I guess that was so I wouldn’t get a good look at him.”

  They visited a bit longer, but Mrs. Hopkins didn’t have anything more to add no matter how cleverly Dominic phrased the questions. She’d been unconscious almost the entire time. He’d gotten all he was going to get.

  “Thank you for your help.”

  Her lips twisted. “I don’t think I was much help, but I sure hope you catch him.”

  Dominic waited for Serena to say her goodbyes, then ushered her out the door.

  “There’s two of them working together,” he said. “It has to be.”

  “Just like you thought by the way things went down with the car accident.” She paused. “But it wasn’t an accident. What do you call a car wreck that’s done on purpose?”

  “Vehicular assault,” he muttered.

  She shivered and he placed an arm around her shoulders, tucking her up against him. He liked the way she fit there.

  “I need to do the autopsy on Hilary,” she said.

  “We both know what you’ll find.”

  “I know. She’ll be just like the others.”

  “She can wait until tomorrow,” Dominic insisted. “Rick’s processing the evidence gathered from her. The work is still going on. But you’re exhausted and I am too.”

  “Okay. So . . . what are we going to do now?” she asked.

  Before he could answer, his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID and said, “It’s Terry. Let’s hope he has something for us on Gwendolyn Lindell.” He tucked the phone against his ear. “Hello?”

  “Your Ms. Lindell is a slippery thing,” Terry grunted.

  “But not too slippery for the great Special Agent Terry O’Donnell, I’m sure.”

  A sigh reached Dominic’s ear. “Actually, I’m at a loss. I did manage to track her from the States, to Canada, to Ecuador, back to the States about a year ago. And then she vanished. Nothing with the credit cards, couldn’t find a fake ID, nothing. She’s staying low, working a job that doesn’t require prints, and is paying cash.”

  “Or she’s dead and no one’s found the body yet.”

  “Or that.”

  “All right, let me know if you find something concrete.”

  “Will do.”

  Dominic hung up and frowned as he glanced around the area leading into the parking garage. Looked clear. His eyes probed, seeking any immediate danger or threat. He kept Serena close to him, not just because he liked her there, which he did, but he wanted to use his own body as a shield. If someone decided to take a shot at her, he wanted her as hard to see as possible.

  When nothing happened by the time they entered the darker, cooler interior of the parking garage, he still wouldn’t let himself relax. His eyes scanned in an arc, his ears in tune with the sounds around them.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Just fine.”

  “You’re about to squeeze me in half.”

  He loosened his grip. “Oops, sorry.”

  They arrived at his car and she looked at him. “Why did you park in here when you could’ve parked right outside the hospital?”

  Once inside the vehicle, he answered, “Because I didn’t want to draw attention to the fact that I was here. If someone followed us,” he shrugged, “there’s not much I can do about that. But my car sitting right out front would be like a neon sign.”

  “Oh. True. Just wondered.”
>
  He nodded to the pole he’d parked beside. “See that?”

  “The camera?”

  “Right. That one is trained on this area.” He nodded to the one across the garage. “And that one is also aimed this way. There’s one behind me too.”

  Realization dawned. “Ah. So if anyone tried anything, you’d have a really good picture of it.”

  “Exactly.”

  Her stomach gurgled and she clasped a hand over it, embarrassment staining her cheeks.

  He lifted a brow. “Hungry?”

  The embarrassment faded and she drawled, “What gave you that idea?”

  “Come on, I’ll feed you. Katie’s on your house tonight. I’ll let her know she doesn’t need to get there until around 11:00. Does that work for you?”

  “Sure.” The soft smile she shot him couldn’t hide the fear she was feeling—or the bone-deep weariness.

  “Hey,” he said, reaching over to grasp her left hand in his. He squeezed her fingers. “We’re going to get this guy.”

  “I know.”

  “What’s that verse? Isaiah 40:31?”

  She closed her eyes and quoted, “‘But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.’”

  “Don’t give up, Serena. God’s with us in this. He wants the killing to stop too.”

  She pulled in a deep breath and opened her eyes to look at him. “Then why doesn’t he just lead us to the killer,” she grumbled. Bit her lip and looked up, staring out the window. “I’m not giving up. You don’t have to worry about that.”

  He glanced at her, troubled by the sudden hard look in her eyes. “What? What are you thinking?”

  She blinked. “I’m worried about Camille. I just wish she would call or text or something.”

  “You want me to put a BOLO out on her?”

  Serena bit her lip. “Let’s give it one more day. If I haven’t heard from her by tomorrow night, you can do that. Let me check with her father first.”

  “Sure, if you think that’s what you need to do.”

  “Tomorrow’s Sunday.”

  “A day of rest.”

 

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