by Paris Hansen
Cade looked over at Sloane, who was staring at Bennett like she was trying to figure him out. He tapped her on the leg so she’d look his way. She shook her head, indicating she didn’t have any other questions. They both stood, thanking the man for his time. He stood slowly and followed them to the door. Sloane reached it first, her hand hesitating on the doorknob before she finally turned it and pulled the door open.
“I was here sitting on the couch watching some stupid TV show while she was attacked. For a long time, I’ve felt like I failed her as a neighbor. I should’ve known something was wrong. I often wondered if I would’ve heard something if I hadn’t soundproofed the house,” Bennett admitted, though the words were spoken so softly, Cade wasn’t sure he would’ve heard them if he wasn’t standing right next to him. “I hope you catch this guy.”
They said another hasty goodbye, then made their way across the street to Cade’s rental. He could feel the man’s eyes on them the entire time, and it made him a little uneasy. After opening the door for Sloane, he made his way to the driver’s side, but before he could get in, he heard shuffling behind him. Turning around, he found Belinda Thompson in her yard, watching them.
“He’s a strange one,” she said, her head tilting toward the Bennett house.
Cade glanced back over at the house, noticing Bennett was no longer on his porch but was probably still watching them from one of the windows he liked to look out of. His eyes drifted to Sloane, who was walking around the back end of the car to join them.
“Why do you say that?” she asked even though she knew she shouldn’t. Cade had a feeling she was getting sick and tired of the no asking question rule.
“He comes and goes at all hours of the night. I’ve seen him carry unidentifiable bundles into the house and more food than one single man can eat. I think there are more people in there, but I don’t know for sure. The curtains are always closed tight. It’s been that way since he moved in almost seven years ago, except back then, he at least used to participate in neighborhood activities.”
“So, he keeps to himself?”
The older woman nodded; her eyes still focused on the house across the street. “He doesn’t join us for the fourth of July barbeque, doesn’t have candy for the kids on Halloween. He doesn’t decorate the house for the holidays or even keep up on the yard work or home maintenance the rest of us do. I’m sure you noticed his house is a bit of an eyesore compared to the rest of us. We’ve all asked if we can give him a hand, but he ignores us. As we come and go or just walk to the mailbox, we all wave at each other, but not the young man across the street. He stopped being a part of the neighborhood right after Danielle’s attack.”
Belinda Thompson’s version of Zach Bennett and what the young man had told them didn’t quite jive. Why would someone who wanted to be a part of the neighborhood suddenly quit being a good neighbor? If he cared enough to soundproof his house at one point, why would the death of a neighbor make him stop caring completely?
Was it the guilt he said he felt for not knowing something was happening to her the night of the attack? Was he putting up walls and keeping people at arm’s length for self-preservation purposes? It wasn’t completely unheard of. He’d guess the woman standing next to him knew exactly how to keep people from getting too close to her for that very reason.
“Thank you again for your time, Mrs. Thompson. You’ve been very helpful.”
The older woman nodded and smiled, showing off her far too white to be natural teeth. She turned around and shuffled back up the walkway to her house. Looking over at Sloane, he watched as she glanced at the Bennett house, then back at him. Her mouth opened like she wanted to say something, then shut, her teeth snapping together audibly.
Without a word, she moved back over to her side of the car and got in. He followed suit, not surprised when she started talking the second his door closed behind him.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
This one had to be the one.
He didn’t know what he’d do if this baby wasn’t what she wanted.
If she rejected what he brought her for the third time in a row, he’d be lost. He already wasn’t sure what was going on or what he could do other than continue to bring her new babies. She was his everything, and he would do whatever it took to make her happy, even if it meant continuing along this path no matter how exhausting it was.
That’s why this one had to be the one.
He’d found her when he found the first one and when he wasn’t sure which would be the better option, he flipped a coin. Such a mundane act for a monumental decision, but it was the only thing he could think of at the time. He should have revisited her after number one didn’t work out, but number two seemed to have so much promise, and Amber...well, she’d become special to him.
Number two’s baby had been beautiful, and the encounter was like nothing he’d ever experienced, and yet, the baby wasn’t good enough for her. And now, because she was dissatisfied, he was revisiting the pretty blonde with the breathtaking smile as a victim and not as a potential answer to his future. And even knowing he’d have to sacrifice her to his cause, he still couldn’t stop thinking about her. She was everything he didn’t know he wanted in a future mate.
During his lifetime, he’d seen many pregnant women, yet this one glowed brighter than any of the others. During the getting to know her part of his routine, he’d been surprised to find out she was single, the baby a byproduct of a one-night stand. Knowing she’d decided to keep the baby even though she had no idea who the father was, had been shocking to him. He’d seen too many situations where that wasn’t the case, where the women were eager to get rid of the baby either by medical means or by giving them away. Those were the women he should’ve been using for his needs, but they were harder to pick out amongst the crowd.
Of all the women he’d encountered, Amber was by far his favorite. Even her name made him nostalgic, remembering the easy way it left his lips when he dreamt about being with her. Part of him wished he’d come across her before all of this started. Before she’d gotten pregnant and he realized she fit into his plans so perfectly. But that was a dream that wasn’t meant to be. Instead, she would hopefully be the last, even though he hated to wipe the smile off of her face.
It was too bad he needed her baby more than she did. Maybe if he explained the situation to her, she’d be willing to help him out.
He immediately felt stupid for even thinking a woman like her would just give him her baby. It didn’t matter that his need was greater or that her baby would want for nothing if she passed it over. She’d be just as selfish as the others. And he didn’t have time to try to get her to see reason. He needed her baby, and he needed it now before things got worse.
The need was so great he’d decided to call in sick that morning so he could follow Amber Newman around. He needed to find the perfect time to grab her. She lived with two roommates, so her home wasn’t an option. Since he didn’t know the roommates’ schedules, he’d have to grab her while she was out and about, maybe at work or if she had a doctor’s appointment, or maybe even in the parking lot of a local store. Whatever worked.
He couldn’t afford to make a mistake. Not with this one. As each hour passed, things got more and more volatile at home. He desperately needed Amber to work so he could get everything back to the way they used to be.
Back to when they were happy, and she had everything they wanted.
Amber was the key. He could feel it in his bones.
Now he just needed to figure out when to put his plan into motion. He couldn’t afford to move too soon, but he also couldn’t afford to wait too long. He was between a rock and a hard place, not a desirable place to be when so much was on the line.
But he would do what needed to be done. He always did. No matter the cost.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Tell me you felt it.”
She’d barely waited for Cade to close the door before she opened her mouth. The entire time
they were in Zach Bennett’s house, she’d had an overwhelming feeling of wrongness. There was something in the house that didn’t feel right. At first, she thought it was the ominous quiet. It almost felt like a deprivation tank, no sound, and only the faint light from the two lamps on either side of the couch.
Then she realized it wasn’t just the quiet that made the house feel wrong. Zach himself felt off. The way he kept looking down the hallway to his left. The way he fidgeted even when he wasn’t lying. The thump she heard while he was talking, the one she was pretty sure only she noticed.
And then there were the locks on the front door. The amount he had rivaled the amount on her own front door, but that wasn’t the weird part. Most of the locks were ones that coul only be opened from the outside by someone with a key. Most locks on a front door were meant to keep someone from getting inside. The ones on Zach Bennett’s door were meant to keep something from getting out.
Sloane tried to get a look at the back door to see if it had the extra locks as well, but it was too dark to see through the kitchen. She should’ve asked him for some water, but Cade had already declined, and she wasn’t supposed to say anything when they were doing their interviews. Not that the rule stopped her when it came to the eerie quiet of the house. She knew Cade was mad at her for going against SAC Jennings’s number one rule, but she couldn’t help it. There was no way Cade was going to ask the question, so she had to.
Looking over at Cade, Sloane knew he hadn’t noticed anything unusual about Zach Bennett or his house. Convincing him that there was more to Zach than what he saw would be an uphill battle. There was something about the man that screamed he was guilty. Was he the Mommy Murderer? Sloane wasn’t quite sure, but he was guilty of something, and she knew it.
He knew more about Danielle Zimmerman and what happened to her than he let on. Five years ago, he never mentioned the white car in her driveway. He never told the FBI or the local police that they ever even spoke. He played like he barely knew Danielle, but suddenly they were close enough that they watched out for each other since they were the only single people in the neighborhood.
Why was he giving them more information now than he had before? Was he lying back then, or was he making up a story for them now? Why bother lying either time if he didn’t have something to hide?
There were too many questions and not enough answers. Which always seemed to be the case with this unsub. Straight from day one five years earlier to now. But Sloane had a feeling Zach Bennett was their answer. He was going to be the key to solving the case once and for all. She just wasn’t sure how.
Could he be the unsub? Or was he protecting the man behind the murders?
Sloane had a feeling there were other people in that house. Having Belinda Thompson say precisely what she was thinking had made Sloane feel better about her out there theory. She didn’t know how the hell she was going to get Cade to believe her. And if she couldn’t get Cade to believe her, she had no shot at getting Reid on her side.
Sitting back in her seat, she let her head fall against the headrest as she waited for Cade to acknowledge her request. He was still irritated with her for speaking up when she knew she wasn’t supposed to, but she needed to know. At least she kept her mouth shut the second time, despite wanting to ask Zach to see his drum set so bad the words felt like acid on her tongue.
It was apparent to her Zach was lying about playing the drums at all hours of the night. She’d bet he didn’t even have a kiddie size drum in that house, let alone an entire set. There was another reason for his need to soundproof his home. She just needed to figure out what it was.
What was he trying to keep from the rest of the world?
“Feel what?” Cade finally asked as he pulled away from the curb.
Sloane bit back a sigh. “The whole place felt weird. Zach Bennett felt weird. Someone else was in that house, yet he claims to live alone.”
Cade glanced over at her, an eyebrow raised. He was skeptical. She wasn’t surprised.
“It was eerily quiet in that house, and he kept looking down the hall like he was worried about something. While you guys were talking, I heard a thump. It sounded like it came from that direction.”
“Could’ve been the house settling, a bird hitting the window, or a soccer ball hitting the garage. That doesn’t mean someone else was in the house.”
Her jaw clenched, a reflex she couldn’t fight no matter how hard she tried. Or how many times her dentist told her it was terrible for her teeth and her health. It still beat the alternative, which was lashing out. She’d learned long ago, reacting that way did nothing to win people over to her side. Calm, cool, and collected Sloane was the one most people listened to, even if she was faking it.
“Mrs. Thompson said she thought more people lived there than just him. And what about the locks on his house. More than a few of them could only be locked and unlocked from the outside. Why would he need those unless he was trying to keep something inside while he was gone?” Sloane asked. “He lied straight to our faces, Cade. He’s hiding something. I know he is.”
The silence in the car was deafening as she waited for Cade to respond. So far he’d seemed to trust her instincts, siding with her on things Reid would barely listen to her about. Now, when she needed him to see what she saw the most, he didn’t. She knew his silence was his way of trying to develop an argument that would prove her wrong but not upset her. Ever diplomatic, those guys from Quantico. Never wanting to upset the apple cart when they still had to work with the people they disagreed with.
“I agree, the guy is a liar and a tad on the creepy side, but that doesn’t mean anything. A few weird locks on the door doesn’t mean he’s a serial killer, Sloane. If he was the Mommy Murderer, wouldn’t we have heard or at least seen signs of children in that house? I don’t have kids, but I have a niece and nephew, and their house has never been that clean. Not even after hours of scrubbing. There’s always some sign they’ve been there.”
Rolling her head back to the right, so she was facing forward, she had to agree he had a point, and she hated it. The living room was spotless, cleaner than any home she’d ever been in—a nearly impossible feat with a five-year-old and two infants. Plus, keeping them quiet for the half an hour they’d been in his house was an accomplishment not even a higher being could manage.
“I saw you look in his car on the way up the driveway. He’s not usually a clean freak. We gave him time to make one room look immaculate. I bet if we’d looked through the rest of the house, it wouldn’t look the same.”
“Fair point,” Cade conceded. “I just don’t see it. What would his motive be? We’ve theorized this guy is taking the babies for someone. Zach Bennett is a single man living alone. What would he do with a five-year-old and two infants?”
Sloane sighed. “Look, I don’t have the answer to that yet, but I will. This guy would’ve had the opportunity, and he would’ve been invited right into Danielle’s home without question. He fits. I don’t know if he’s our guy, but he’s something. Maybe he works with our guy. Could be he has a partner or something.”
Needing fresh air, Sloane rolled her window down and took in a deep breath. The slightly salty scent of the bay made her feel marginally better. It gave her the boost she needed to remember what she had to do next. If Cade wasn’t convinced, she’d have to dig deeper into Zach Bennett and his background. He was a part of this somehow, and she had to prove it.
Not only to convince Cade but Reid as well. He’d be the harder sell of the two, and if she wasn’t careful, she could find herself on a plane back to Washington with nothing to show for her time in San Francisco but more questions than answers and a raging headache. Even if finding what she needed meant going rogue, she didn’t care.
Once upon a time, she’d been willing to die to save a little girl from a pedophile kidnapper. She’d been willing to lose her job, her identity, and she didn’t regret a single second of that choice. Getting a second chance to take down the pers
on who hurt all those women, who stole Maggie’s daughter from her, was a dream come true, and she’d do whatever it took to make it happen.
What did she have to lose? Nothing that wasn’t worth the price, that was damn sure.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The ride back to the office was unsettling. Cade knew he deserved Sloane’s silent treatment after the way he shut her down, but he couldn’t agree with her just to make her happy. Not that he suspected she’d want him to anyway. She wanted him to agree with her because he saw what she saw or, at the very least, could see some merit in her argument.
But he couldn’t.
He needed a hell of a lot more than her gut to believe the skinny, shy man they’d just left was capable of the murder of 14 women and children and the kidnapping of three newborns. There was something weird about Zach Bennett; he’d give her that. Maybe he was even capable of being a creepy stalker, but there was nothing about him that screamed serial killer. Nothing about his physique led Cade to believe he could move dead women all over the bay area.
It was obvious Sloane was going to continue digging. Part of him wanted to stop her so she didn’t waste time and resources going down the wrong path. But then the other part of him worried if she didn’t, she might do something crazy.
Hell, either way, she could end up doing something crazy.
This case was more than personal for her. Finding someone to blame for the way her life changed so dramatically was a pretty big draw. So was making someone pay for Maggie Whitten’s pain.
The second they parked in the underground garage, Sloane jumped out of the car and stomped her way to the elevator. When she got there, he was still several feet behind her, and he could tell by the way her body went rigid that she remembered she couldn’t get the elevator to work without a key card.