The Broken Doll (Inheriting Evil Book 1)

by Paris Hansen

  He knew what the media said about him. That he was a psychopath taking out his mommy issues on unsuspecting women and children. If he was what they said he was, then he could’ve just disposed of the babies, burying them at the farm like a family pet gone too soon. But that wasn’t who he was. His mission wasn’t about revenge or inflicting pain or any of the other excuses the media made for him.

  No. His mission was to make her happy. To anticipate her every want and need so he could provide for her the way she’d once provided for him. He did what he did out of love and necessity. It wasn’t pretty, and it wasn’t easy, but it was his life. He’d do anything for her.

  He wouldn’t stop until she had what she needed. And even then, he’d stay vigilant instead of letting himself daydream about a future he would never have, could never have. She was his future. Her and the children, and no one else. They were all that mattered.

  Forever and always.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  After spending an hour going through overnight reports that contained nothing helpful, Cade and Sloane were finally on their way back to Danielle Zimmerman’s neighborhood to interview the two neighbors who’d been gone the day before. Morgan had seemed less than thrilled for him to pair up with Sloane again, especially after the conversation they’d had the night before, but there wasn’t much Morgan could do about it since he would be spending most of his day in meetings again.

  Morgan could’ve sent Morrisey with Sloane, but the agent was a bit too new and inexperienced to handle a personality as strong as hers. Gardner might have been a better choice, but he didn’t respect Sloane or her theories, so pairing them up probably would have ended in disaster. Cade was the only viable option, even if Morgan didn’t want to admit it.

  Cade didn’t envy the responsibility the other man had to deal with, though he was wondering when he was going to finally get called in for a meeting of his own. They hadn’t asked for an in-person update all week, which was unusual. Cade wondered if maybe Morgan was keeping them up to date so he could focus on making a decision about Sloane, then wondered if the man would ever do him a favor like that.

  The more he thought about it the more Cade wondered if he really was the right man for the job. He’d made a giant error in judgment the night before. He had a job to do, and that job didn’t include spending time chatting with Sloane Matthews in the dark, wondering what it would be like to be with her.

  Cade nearly groaned as he remembered the way his imagination took off the second she smiled at him like he was the best thing she’d ever seen. Sitting next to her in his rental car wasn’t going to do him any favors today. The sooner they could get through their scheduled interviews and back to the office, the better. He needed to put some distance between them to get his head on straight and remember the reason he was there.

  The drive out to the Hayward neighborhood Danielle Zimmerman used to live in was surprisingly quick, which he was thankful for. They were scheduled to meet with Belinda Thompson first, so he pulled up in front of her bungalow across the cul-de-sac from where Danielle lived when she was killed five years earlier.

  Mrs. Thompson met them on the porch of her house. A spunky woman in her late 70s, she was eager to talk to them about Danielle and the neighborhood back then. She’d been living in her house since 1964 when she and her late husband Charles got married. She told them about raising three kids in the house and nursing her husband through cancer in the house.

  “When the cops started talking about home invasions, and maybe an older woman like myself shouldn’t live alone in this neighborhood, I told them I’d only leave this house when I was dead and gone. Nothing is going to chase me out of here before I’m ready to go,” Mrs. Thompson told them as she handed out the cups of tea she’d made for them.

  Cade liked the woman’s spunk and determination. Looking around the house, he noticed she’d done a great job keeping it up. He assumed she’d had help from her kids and maybe even her grandkids, but he wouldn’t dare ask her.

  “I knew Danielle’s attack wasn’t a home invasion long before they told us she was a victim of that mom killing asshole. People don’t usually wander into the cul-de-sac. It’s a very safe place, then and now.”

  Taking a sip of his tea, Cade tried not to flinch as the scalding liquid left a scorching trail down his esophagus. He heard a snicker from Sloane next to him. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed she was blowing on her tea before taking a sip. She was so much smarter than he was.

  “Did you see anything out of the ordinary the day of Danielle’s attack?” Cade asked after gently trying to clear his throat. He felt like an idiot, but he had to shake it off.

  “Everything was quiet around here, like usual. It was like every other day in the neighborhood.”

  “You were the one who found her?”

  Mrs. Thompson’s shoulders drooped, the smile she’d had on her face since they walked up her driveway, falling to meet them. He knew from seeing the pictures that the Zimmerman scene had been gruesome. Blood covered most of the kitchen, where the body was laid out on the floor. The victim’s stomach had been left wide open, one of her dead infants disposed of on the floor next to her. He couldn’t imagine coming upon the scene as a civilian. Even as an FBI agent who’d seen a thing or two, it was enough to turn his stomach.

  “I will never forget what I saw that day. Even if my brain is ravaged by dementia or Alzheimer’s, I have a feeling that will be one memory that will stick with me.”

  “I’m sorry to have you relive that day. We want to make sure we didn’t miss anything the first time around. Why did you go over to Danielle’s? Is that something you did often?”

  “I heard the bastard is back at it. I wish I knew something that would help you catch him, but I don’t,” Mrs. Thompson sighed, then took a sip of her tea. “I went over to Danielle’s that day because I noticed her door was open when I checked the mail. When I came out later after it cooled down, I went to water my plants and noticed it was still open. I knew right away something wasn’t right. She never left the door open. She hated it when bugs would get in.”

  “Sounds like you were a great neighbor to her.”

  The older woman shrugged. “We used to chat more before she got pregnant. After that, I didn’t see her as much. She was working a bunch of extra hours, trying to get as many in as she could before the twins came. Plus, the beginning of the pregnancy was rough on her. She had terrible morning sickness, but she always said it was all going to be worth it. All she ever wanted was to be a mom, but she let the dream go so she could focus on her career. I hate that she never got a chance to hold her babies and realize her dream.”

  Mrs. Thompson brushed the back of her hand under her eye, catching a stray tear. Cade felt like an asshole for making the woman cry, but it was an unfortunate part of the job. He felt a shift of the weight on the old couch he sat on and watched Sloane move over to sit next to the woman who reminded him of his grandma. She put her arm around Mrs. Thompson’s shoulders and handed her a tissue she pulled out of a pack she had in her jacket pocket.

  “I’m really sorry for upsetting you, Mrs. Thompson. I only have one more question, and then we’ll be on our way,” Cade promised. “You said you didn’t see anything unusual that day, but did you notice anything unusual leading up to that day? Maybe a car that didn’t belong showing up on more than one occasion or someone you didn’t recognize hanging around the neighborhood.”

  Sloane moved her hand so it was resting on top of Mrs. Thompson’s. She gave it a quick squeeze like she was trying to pass some of her strength on to the woman, which she seemed to eat up. Her shoulders straightened, her gaze coming up to meet his.

  “I’m not one of those old busybodies that keeps tabs on the comings and goings of the neighborhood, but I remember the two weeks leading up to that day clearly,” Mrs. Thompson’s confidence rang true in her tone. “It was unusually warm, so I spent a lot of time out front planting flowers and pulling up weeds. I kne
w it was going to be my best chance before the spring rains came. The week before Danielle’s death, my grandkids came to stay a few days with me. We spent a lot of time running around the yard, playing soccer or baseball. My backyard isn’t as big as the front. Plus, in the front yard, the other neighborhood kids can come to play without their parents worrying too much. I didn’t see a single soul during that time who didn’t belong here.”

  Cade and Sloane spent another fifteen minutes with Mrs. Thompson, finishing their tea and talking about her grandkids. He wanted to leave her thinking about something a hell of a lot happier than the scene she discovered five years earlier. They left her sitting in her living room, a smile on her face, though her eyes gave away that her memories still haunted her.

  “That sucked,” Sloane said as they regrouped next to his car.

  They had about ten minutes before their next interview with the man who lived next door to Danielle. He would’ve rather been on the way back to the office, but Sloane thought these last two neighbors were going to be the key to figuring out who their unsub was. Cade wasn’t so sure, but it didn’t matter. The interviews needed to be done.

  “Yeah, it did. I hate making people relive the worst moments of their lives.”

  “I hope I’m half as tough as her if I make it to her age.”

  Cade laughed. “I’ve got no doubt you’ll be tougher.”

  “Glad someone’s sure about that. Think we can head over to Zach Bennett’s place a little early? Being right next door to Danielle, he might’ve seen someone hanging around that Belinda wouldn’t have.”

  “A few minutes early can’t hurt.”

  Sloane smiled, then started across the street. Cade followed close behind her, wondering if Danielle’s neighbor would give them anything new to work with. He was home during the timeframe the medical examiner believed Danielle was attacked. Yet, he hadn’t heard a peep coming from his neighbor’s house.

  Sloane believed Bennett would give them something that would lend credence to her theory that Danielle was attacked by someone she knew. Cade didn’t want her to get her hopes up, even though he had to admit her theory held water.

  But would proving her idea help them find the unsub before he killed again? He wasn’t sure, but at this point, he’d take anything that would give them even a snowball’s chance in hell to catch the guy. They really could use all the help they could get.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  As they made their way to Zach Bennett’s house, Cade looked around the cul-de-sac, trying to get a feel for what it would be like to live in what he thought of as a bubble. It would be hard to be a loner in a neighborhood where you practically had to drive by all of your neighbors to leave. Looking out your front window, you could easily see what everyone was up to unless they kept their blinds or curtains closed all the time.

  It would be challenging to maintain a sense of privacy with everyone being able to see who was knocking on your door and when. Cade had heard neighborhoods like this one were usually closer than most. They often kept an eye out for each other, made sure nothing questionable happened to any of the residents. Yet, something happened to one of the residents of this neighborhood, and Cade had to wonder if this one just wasn’t close or if someone amongst their ranks was Danielle’s killer.

  Sloane thought their unsub could be someone who lived close to Danielle. Someone they may have already spoken to. Someone who could currently be watching them cross from Belinda Thompson’s house to Zach Bennett’s. Cade wasn’t sure what to think, though he did agree focusing on Danielle’s attack would get them one step closer to catching their unsub.

  In a cul-de-sac filled with pristine yards and well-kept houses, the Bennett house stuck out like a sore thumb. The grass hadn’t been mowed in at least a month or maybe longer. The house had also seen better days. The siding was a dingy looking yellow, the shrubs along the front of the house were misshapen and overgrown.

  As they walked up the driveway, Cade noticed the car parked in front of the garage was also in disarray. Dirty on the outside, and inside it looked like Bennett spent a lot of time in his car and not a lot of time making sure his trash ended up somewhere other than his backseat. With that in mind, Cade hoped the inside of the man’s house was in better shape.

  He only had to knock once on the front door with its peeling white paint before Zach Bennett was swinging it open, an attempt at a smile on his face. The man was a tad on the skinny side, his hair a shade of blond that bordered on red, his skin a pasty white, except for his rosy cheeks. Nervous energy flowed off of him in waves, a typical response for someone getting questioned by the FBI. As they introduced themselves, he backed up to allow them into the house.

  Cade looked around as he entered the Bennett house and noticed the fading scent of disinfectant in the air. The inside of the house was the complete opposite of the outside and the car. It was nearly immaculate, though he was pretty sure it hadn’t started that way.

  “Please have a seat. Can I get you anything to drink? I’ve got water, coffee, tea,” Bennett offered, his voice fluttery with nerves.

  “No, but thank you. We’re fine,” Cade answered for them both as he took a seat on a couch that looked nearly as old as he was.

  Sloane sat down next to him while Bennett pulled a chair in from the dining room table. The living space was small and other than the couch, held a coffee table, two end tables, and an entertainment cabinet. A big-screen TV sat on top of the cabinet, the newest, most expensive item in this part of the house. The furniture was either as old as the couch or came from the big furniture store where you had to put everything together yourself. The house seemed like the quintessential home of a young bachelor just starting out.

  Cade turned back to look at Bennett, who was watching them intently. “We appreciate you taking the time to talk to us today. We’re sorry to bring this up again, especially after all this time, but I’m sure you’ve heard we believe the man who attacked Danielle is back at it.”

  “I saw it on the news last night. I can’t believe he’s out there again. It’s just so unbelievable. Those poor women.”

  Cade nodded. “It’s terrible what he’s doing. We are doing everything we can to ensure we catch him this time and get justice for Danielle and the others. Did you know Danielle well?”

  Bennett looked down at his hands and shook his head. “Not really. We’d chat at the mailbox sometimes or while we were in our yards, especially during the summer. Being the only single people in the neighborhood, we tried to look out for each other, but we were both always so busy. I hadn’t even realized she was pregnant until a few weeks before the attack. I’d been gone a lot for work, and she rarely came outside. We never got the chance to talk about it.”

  “So, you didn’t know any details about the pregnancy, like who the father was or how far along she was?”

  Shaking his head again, Bennett looked to his left toward the hallway, then back at Cade. “I didn’t, although I don’t remember her having a boyfriend or anything like that. No one stayed overnight. Whenever there was a car in her driveway at night, it was usually gone by morning.”

  So, he didn’t know about her pregnancy, but he noticed the cars in her driveway and when they came and went, which seemed a little weird to Cade. If he watched his neighbors’ comings and goings, it wouldn’t be too hard to catch a glimpse of a very pregnant Danielle.

  “Did you see anyone parked in her driveway the day of her attack, or maybe the night before?”

  Bennett pursed his lips and tapped a finger against his chin. “I don’t remember anyone being there that day, but maybe someone was the night before. Someone in a white sedan had been visiting a lot in the weeks leading up to the attack. I can’t be sure, though, if the car was there that night or if I’m remembering another night. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Sometimes days and nights blend together. Plus, it was five years ago. I barely remember last month,” Cade said, trying to ease the other man’s guilt. �
��Did you…”

  “Mr. Bennett, it’s awfully quiet in your home. Most places you can hear the birds chirping outside or the kids running around the cul-de-sac.”

  Cade wanted to scold Sloane for speaking when she knew she wasn’t supposed to but then noticed how Zach Bennett started to fidget. She’d struck a nerve with her observation, but Cade didn’t understand why. The other man looked to his left again, then back at them, sweat starting to form on his forehead.

  “I...uh...soundproofed the house when I first moved in,” Bennett said, his conviction getting stronger toward the end of the sentence. “This neighborhood is so quiet, and I didn’t want to disturb people with all the loud noises.”

  Sloane shifted next to him, but before she could ask the question, Cade did. “What loud noises?”

  His eyes glanced to the left toward the hallway again. “I play the drums. Not very well, mind you, but banging on the drums makes me feel better after a long stressful day at work. And since I don’t always do it during decent hours, I thought it only fair to soundproof the house.”

  “Not many people would think about something like that.”

  Bennett shrugged. “I plan on living here for a long time. I want to be a part of the neighborhood, not make my neighbors so mad they want to run me out. It can get a little eerie, though, which is why I tend to look out the windows a lot. Especially after Danielle’s attack, when the cops talked about it maybe being a random home invasion, you know, before they linked it to the other guy. I live alone, and I started to worry about someone thinking this cul-de-sac was a bunch of houses ripe for the picking.”