Don't Look Back

by Lynette Eason

  A loud wham and the door flew open.

  He and Connor led the swarm into a living room that stunk.

  Bad.

  At least a hundred degrees in the house, the sweat that had trickled before now started to pour. Breathing shallow breaths through his mouth didn’t help the familiar sweet sickly stench he’d smelled before. In his gut, he knew what they were going to find.

  From his peripheral vision, he saw an officer go to the left. Felt one go to the right. Dakota headed straight down the hall.

  “Clear!” he heard from the kitchen.

  “Clear!” from the first bedroom.

  In his earpiece, “Garage is clear.”

  He swung around the edge of the door into the next bedroom and grunted. “In here!”

  He felt Connor come up behind him. “Aw, man …”

  “How long you think he’s been dead?”

  “Couple of days? Serena will be able to tell us for sure after she gets her hands on him.”

  Dakota approached the body, careful not to touch or step on anything. “Bullet hole to the head.”

  “That’ll do the job if the throat slashing doesn’t.” He pointed to the yawning gap just below the man’s jaw. Flies swarmed the wounds and Dakota grimaced.

  “Yeah, I noticed that. Seems a bit of overkill, doesn’t it? Either one of those would have killed the guy.” Blowing out a rough sigh, Dakota turned to one of the other officers. A kid who didn’t look old enough to shave yet, much less be on patrol. “Give the ME and Crime Scene Unit a call, would you?”

  “You got it.” He whirled and left, looking a little green around the edges. Probably his first homicide. Dakota didn’t hold that against him, he was having to work at holding the contents of his own breakfast where they belonged. The smell did it to him every time. It would take days to get it out of his nose.

  Connor studied the corpse. “What do you make of it?”

  “We need to get a picture from when he was alive and see if the waitress from the restaurant can confirm he’s the one who delivered the package.”

  He looked around the room but didn’t see any pictures of the deceased. In fact, he didn’t see any pictures at all. “I’ll check the den area.”

  “He doesn’t really resemble the sketch the artist did, does he?”

  “Too hard to tell. Could be him, but …” He shrugged.

  “All right, let’s get out of here before we contaminate this area any more than we already have.”

  “I need some air anyway.”

  They exited the room and headed back down the hall. More flies buzzed around the trash can in the kitchen.

  Back outside, Dakota pulled in a lung full of fresh, if hot and muggy, air. His stomach settled, he met Serena and the CSU team as they pulled into the drive. Yellow crime scene tape flapped in the wind. A handful of neighbors stood on their porches watching and wondering at all the excitement.

  Several officers began questioning them, trying to see if anyone had seen anything or noticed anything strange over the last few days.

  Serena, runway-model beautiful with a mind like a steel trap, greeted him. “Got another one for me, huh?”

  “Unfortunately.”

  “Between you and Connor, I sure do have job security.”

  “Hey, it’s not our fault,” he protested. But he knew she was kidding. A little levity before facing such ugly seriousness.

  Dressed for the job in a Tyvek suit, gloves, and a mask that hung around her neck for the moment, she nodded. “I’ll tell you what I can as soon as possible.”

  “Thanks.”

  She left, CSU right on her heels.

  Connor had started doing a little questioning of the neighbors himself, so Dakota got on the phone with Jazz. “Can you dig up everything you’ve got on this Evan Johannes guy?”

  “I’m already ahead of you,” she said. “Jamie called and asked me to find out more about him a minute after you left. He’s thirty-seven years old, was laid off from A-Textiles six months ago. Divorced three years ago, no kids. Ex-wife is now living in England with her second husband and has been since the divorce was final. As far as I can tell, they’ve had no contact in those three years. Mr. Johannes grew up here in town. Parents deceased, one brother and two sisters. I talked to the brother and it seems Mr. Johannes is estranged from all of his siblings due to an arrest for indecent exposure at a theme park two years ago. No more incidents on record. That was his one and only.”

  “Bank records?”

  “Broke. Getting ready to foreclose on the house.”

  “All right, thanks, Jazz.”

  “Not a problem, call me if you need anything else.”

  Dakota hung up and motioned for Connor to join him.

  Connor loped across the lawn and Dakota relayed the information to him. Connor shook his head. “Laid off six months ago. That explains why the power was shut off in the middle of a heat wave.”

  “This guy doesn’t meet George’s profile.”

  “No, he was probably just a pawn. I’m guessing he was paid to make that delivery.”

  “And was killed for his efforts.”

  “No witnesses. No one’s going to miss a down-and-out jobless man estranged from his family.”

  One of the CSU team, Jake Hollister, came out of the house, an evidence bag in hand. “Thought you might be interested in this.”

  Absently, Dakota noticed the ambulance pull up and unload a stretcher containing a black body bag. “What is it, Jake?”

  The stretcher passed by him and into the house.

  Jake shook the bag. “Two one hundred dollar bills.”

  “Where’d you find those?”

  “Under the bed.”

  “Loose?”

  “Yep.”

  Dakota looked at Connor. “Okay, that supports our theory that he was paid off.”

  “Did you find any pictures of the guy?” he asked Jake.

  “No, but we’re not finished. Julie’s working on the den. I’ll let her know you need a photo of him.”

  “Thanks.”

  Connor wondered. “How do you think our psycho and this guy knew each other?”

  “Who knows? Could have been anywhere.”

  “I’d ask Sam to check out the guy’s computer, but the power company said they cut his power off two months ago. I have a feeling that’s not the connection.”

  “Yeah, and no cell phone.”

  “But he had two hundred dollars under his bed.”

  “He didn’t have time to spend it.”

  “So, if we’re right, this guy was killed the same day he delivered the package.”

  “That’s my take on it.”

  “Mine too.”

  “Come on, let’s go fill Jamie in.”

  14

  Jamie hung up the phone with a frown. Her nerves felt scraped raw. Had they found him? What was going on? Why hadn’t they called?

  Refocusing her churning thoughts was no easy task, but standing around stewing about something she couldn’t change wasn’t doing anyone any good.

  Her hand still clutched her cell phone. She’d called her parents’ house and gotten the answering machine – again.

  After dropping her family concerns in Jamie’s lap, Samantha had received a call requesting her computer expertise. She’d protested that she was on leave. The caller said something else and Sam had bolted from Jamie’s office with a wave and a “we’ll talk later.”

  With a forceful forefinger, Jamie punched in her parents’ number one more time. And got the answering machine. Same story with their cell phone numbers and voice mail.

  Rats.

  Should she risk going over there? What if he was watching and followed her?

  She called Samantha’s phone.

  “What?”

  “Have you managed to get in touch with Mom or Dad?”

  “Not yet. I’ll call you in a little while. I’ve got a missing kid.”

  That was the hurry. And why Sam was
willing to come off her leave and go back to work. Kids did it to her every time.

  Just like they did Jamie.

  The girl on the slab, Lisa, was no more than a kid. She may have been nineteen years old, but in Jamie’s eyes, that was still a baby.

  She returned to Lisa’s side and pulled back the sheet. Now that she’d thawed out, the putrefaction process had sped up to the point that the odor was getting offensive. She needed to be placed in the freezer until cremation could be done.

  Slowly, Jamie’s mind gnawed on the facts as she stared down at the girl whose life had been cut short. Why had she been placed in an environment where she would be found?

  “Why that building? Why a dry ice freezer? And not buried like the rest of them. Why deviate from your pattern?” she wondered aloud. She looked at the x-rays still posted on the wall. Broken bones. Healed bones. Branded on the upper left shoulder.

  No doubt about it. It was the Hero. Jamie’s skin crawled just thinking of him by the only name she’d ever called him.

  “Why a freezer full of dry ice instead of a hole in the ground where she might go undiscovered for years? What were you thinking? What was the point? Did you expect her to be found long before now? Did you even care if she was found at all? Or,” Jamie drew in a deep breath, “were you hoping she would be found long before now?”

  Was she talking to him?

  Maybe.

  She wanted to understand. Almost as much as she wanted to bury her head under a pillow and believe that this nightmare would just go away.

  But she couldn’t do that.

  Her phone rang making her jump. Heart pounding out a rhythm to match her ring tone, she snatched up the phone. “Hello?”

  “Simone and Karen,” Mark said.

  “It’s the same guy,” she whispered.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Thanks, Mark, I’ll get your tickets to you soon.” She hung up without waiting for his response, her mind already clicking through what she knew and what she needed to do.

  Staring down at Lisa, she could well imagine the girl’s terror during the weeks leading up to her death. Caused by the man who called himself “the Hero.” A sociopath still out there walking the streets, watching her …

  A disturbing, terrifying thought occurred. “You wanted me to see her, didn’t you? You knew once I heard about the branding, I’d have to see her for myself.” Her stomach turned in on itself as her voice dropped to a mere whisper that echoed in the silent room, “How long have you been watching me?”

  A whistle sounded down the hall and her nerves bunched, then relaxed. Then tightened once more. Dakota. With shaking hands, she pulled the sheet back up over Lisa and met him at the door. Still in full tactical gear, the FBI logo prominently displayed, he stepped inside. Grimaced. He didn’t like the smell of dead bodies any more than she did.

  Jamie moved back a bit to give him some space. Sweat had plastered his hair to his head. His handsome face had a few new grooves in it. And she thought he was the best thing she’d seen all day.

  She swallowed hard. “Did you get him?”

  “It wasn’t him.”

  A frown pulled her lips downward. “What? How do you know?”

  As he explained what had transpired at Evan Johannes’s house, Jamie felt a coldness seep into her soul. “Is George still working on the profile of this guy?”

  “He is. In fact, I talked to him on the way over here. He’s going back over all the facts that we have.”

  “The … um … hero … obviously has access to a lot of medical equipment if he’s x-raying broken bones and casting them.”

  “I know, we’re working on that one.”

  “I can’t believe I didn’t remember …”

  “You were under the influence of a lot of drugs, I believe.”

  “Yes, for part of the time. And other times, I was horrifyingly lucid.” She turned away and gestured to Lisa’s covered body. “We’re waiting on a tox screen to come back on her.”

  “I’m willing to bet she’s got some narcotics in her.”

  Jamie nodded. She wouldn’t be surprised. “If they show up after all this time.”

  “Anything on the handcuffs we pulled from the grave with the first body?”

  A delicate tremor went through her at the mention of the handcuffs. “Not much. A few fibers that matched the shirt she had on.”

  “What about the second body we found? The one you named Bianca?”

  “They found a set of cuffs with her too.” And in spite of her revulsion, she’d examined every millimeter of them. Now thanks to Mark, she had a name. “Karen. He engraved the cuffs with their names.”

  “Oh man.” He closed his eyes for a brief moment. “I thought her position in the grave looked similar to the first girl.”

  Jamie nodded. “There’s no doubt in my mind that the same guy killed all four girls. I went over both sets of cuffs and there was nothing but dirt and fibers from their clothing. However, Mark found their names engraved almost microscopically on the cuffs.”

  “Sick creep, isn’t he? So, nothing but fibers or dirt. He washed their clothing and dressed them after he killed them.”

  “That’s what I think.”

  “As far as the handcuffs are concerned, they’re the kind you can purchase online from a ton of dealers. They’re Smith & Wesson M&P lever lock cuffs. Virtually impossible to trace. If you had about a hundred people contacting every online seller and every store that sells handcuffs around here …” He rubbed his eyes. “All right, here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to put out a lead to every field office in the country requesting information on anyone who’s bought multiple pairs of handcuffs in a single purchase.” Shrugged. “Might be a waste of time, but …”

  A puff of air escaped her lips as did a curl from the loose ponytail she’d hurriedly stuffed in a scrunchy earlier. Absently, she pinned it back, then shoved her hands in the pocket of her jeans. Her fingers closed over the small metal item she always kept with her and immediately comfort flooded her.

  “What’s wrong, Jamie?”

  “What?” She blinked. “Oh, nothing, just thinking. I didn’t ask Mark what kind of handcuffs they were, but I’d be willing to bet they’re the same.” She picked up the phone and dialed.

  “Mark here.”

  “What kind of cuffs were they?”

  “Uh … hold on a second.” The line went dead for a minute, then shuffling, a scraping sound, then, “Smith & Wesson M&P lever lock cuffs.”

  She thanked him and hung up. Looked at Dakota. “The same.”

  “I’m going to call Jazz and have her ID all online dealers of those cuffs. I should have the results pretty fast. Then I guess we can start contacting them to see if any of them have done business with someone in South Carolina.”

  A knock on the door brought her head around. Samantha stood there, looking pale and worn out.

  Jamie blinked. “Sam?”

  “Do you have a few minutes?”

  “Sure.”

  Dakota gave a small salute to the two ladies and exited the room. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

  “Right.” Jamie turned to her sister. “What is it? Bad case?”

  “The worst.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “A fourteen-year-old kid met up with his online predator. We found him locked in the guy’s basement, strangled.”

  Nausea swirled in her gut and tears found their way to the surface. “Why?” she whispered. “When will the evil end?”

  Samantha wrapped her arms around Jamie’s shoulders. “When Jesus decides it’s time.”

  “Some days I wish he’d hurry up.”

  “In his time, sis, in his time.”

  “I know.” Jamie pulled away from the comfort and said, “All right, what else is going on?”

  Sam raised a brow, but didn’t bother to refute the question. “Can you get away for a couple of hours?”

  Jamie looked at the bodies on the ta
ble. “Sure. There’s not much more I can do here. I’m trying to identify the other girl, but I’m not having much luck. I know her first name is Karen, but that’s it. I gave her to Jazz and she’s running her through the system. I didn’t have a matchup here with the missing girls already pulled. Where do you want to go?”

  “To see Mom and Dad.”

  “You’re still not getting any answer when you call?”

  “Nope.”

  “And you want to go talk with them.”

  “This has gone on long enough. It’s time to nail them down and get to the bottom of it. I’m worried.”

  Jamie blew out a sigh. “I know, I have been too, ever since you brought it to my attention, but I was scared to go over there because of …”

  “The fact that you might have a stalker,” Samantha finished for her.

  “Yeah.”

  Samantha hesitated, chewing her lip as she studied Jamie.

  “What?” Jamie demanded.

  “I hate to tell you this, but chances are, if he’s been watching you for a while – and we think he has been – then he already knows where Mom and Dad live.”

  That familiar sick feeling she got when things spiraled out of control consumed her. “Great.”

  “That’s what’s got me a little concerned. They’re acting weird and …”

  Jamie wasn’t slow. “And you think he may have contacted them and they’re scared. But surely they would have said something.” “Not if he threatened to kill you … or me … if they continued contact with us.”

  Jamie slapped a hand on her hip. “But that’s crazy! Why would he do that if he’s after me?”

  “To cut you off from family. To isolate you.”

  “Has he contacted you?”

  “No, I’d tell you if he had. But it could be he’s just getting started.”

  “I just can’t see our parents keeping quiet about something like that. Especially Mom. She would have told me or called me regardless of what he may have threatened.”

  “What if he sent them something?”

  “Sent them … oh. You mean like the picture he sent me?”

  “Right.”

  Jamie grabbed two water bottles from the fridge. She handed one to Sam. “All right, let’s go.”

  “The guys are meeting us there as soon as they get cleaned up.”