Ice Cold Killer

by Cindi Myers

  Gage looked at Tim, who shrugged. “Like he said, the windows were tinted. And I was too terrified to notice much of anything. I really thought we were going to be killed.”

  “Were either of you hurt by the impact?” Gage asked.

  “My neck is pretty sore.” Alex rubbed the back of his neck. “I think I might have whiplash.”

  “I’m just generally banged up,” Tim said. “No permanent damage, I don’t think.”

  “Your airbag didn’t deploy,” Dwight said.

  Again, the two friends exchanged a look. “No,” Tim said. “I wondered about that. Maybe it’s defective.”

  “We were both wearing seat belts,” Alex said. “I’m sure that saved us from more serious harm.”

  “We’ll get someone out to the site and check it out,” Gage said. “We don’t have a lot to go on, but we’ll do what we can, though I think you realize we’re a small department, and we have more pressing concerns at the moment.”

  “I wanted to ask you about that,” Alex said. He smiled, a tight grimace that made Ryder think he didn’t use the expression often. “I think I told you I’m studying psychology at the university. I have a special interest in serial killers. I’m actually thinking of pursuing a career as a profiler, helping law enforcement.”

  “I really can’t talk about the case,” Gage said.

  “Oh, I get that,” Alex said. “I wouldn’t ask you to reveal anything confidential. But I read in the paper that the killer has been leaving cards with the bodies of his victims—cards that say Ice Cold. I wonder what you think the significance of that might be. Is he trying to send a particular message? And to whom? Does he kill women because he sees them as emotionally cold? Does he think this about all women or do his victims symbolize a particular woman?”

  “I don’t have any answers for you,” Gage said. He stood. “If you could stop by the station again tomorrow, we’ll have your statements ready for you to sign, and we may have some photographs from the scene for you to look at and verify. Thanks for stopping by.”

  He and Dwight escorted the two out to the truck and watched them leave. When they returned to the lobby, Ryder asked, “What do you make of that?”

  “They’re lying about something,” Gage said.

  Dwight nodded. “I got that, too,” he said.

  “The truck was damaged,” Ryder said.

  “It was,” Gage said. “I’m just not sure the damage happened the way they said.”

  “What about those questions he asked?” Ryder asked. “About the killer?”

  “Lots of people are fascinated by serial killers,” Dwight said. “I imagine most psychology students find the topic interesting.”

  “How did the information about those cards get in the paper?” Ryder asked.

  “Tammy Patterson was at the party at the ranch Saturday,” Gage said. “She’s a reporter for the paper. She probably heard about the cards there.”

  “I wish she hadn’t publicized it,” Ryder said.

  “Nothing we can do about it now.” Gage shoved his hands in his pockets. “Alex raised some interesting points,” he said. “Ones we should look at.”

  “They don’t have an alibi for the day Kelly and Christy were killed,” Ryder said.

  “No,” Gage said. “But the weather was bad that day. Most people were probably staying at home, watching TV, playing video games and drinking. It doesn’t prove they were guilty of anything.”

  “We aren’t getting anywhere with this case,” Ryder said.

  “When we find out what those two are lying about, maybe we’ll have something to work with,” Gage said.

  * * *

  “I AM NOT going to let you eat lunch cooped up here in the office again.” Stacy, purse in hand, handed Darcy her coat after she had sent her last patient of the morning on her way Tuesday.

  “I don’t mind staying in.” Darcy slipped out of her lab coat and hung it on a peg by the door. “It’s a good time to catch up on paperwork.” Since Kelly’s death, she had fallen into the habit of bringing food from home or from the grocery store deli, and eating at her desk.

  “Lunch is supposed to be a break from work,” Stacy said. “So you come back in the afternoon refreshed. Besides, if you go to lunch with me, neither one of us is alone. It just seems safer to me for women to travel in groups around here, at least until that Ice Cold Killer is caught.”

  “Ice Cold Killer?” The name gave her a jolt. “Where did you get that?”

  “That’s what the paper is calling him. Apparently, he leaves a business card with those words on it with each of the bodies of the women he’s killed.” She shuddered. “Creepy. I wouldn’t stay anywhere by myself for ten seconds, much less a whole lunch hour.”

  “I’m sure I’m perfectly safe here,” Darcy said, though even as she uttered the words, a shiver of fear ran through her. “I keep the door locked.”

  “You keep thinking that way if it helps you sleep at night,” Stacy said. “As for me, I’m scared half to death, and I’d appreciate the company.”

  Though Stacy’s tone was joking, Darcy sensed some truth behind her words. She hadn’t read the latest issue of the paper, but news of a serial killer snowed in with the rest of the town had everyone on edge. And she had noticed an uptick of men accompanying the women who brought their pets in to see her. Maybe she and Stacy keeping each other company wasn’t such a bad idea. She collected her purse from the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet. “All right. I’ll go to lunch with you.”

  They headed for Kate’s Kitchen, always a favorite. But the black ribbons adorning the door reminded them that Fiona Winslow had worked here, which momentarily quieted their conversation. Stacy waited until they had placed their orders before she spoke. She stripped the paper off a straw and plopped it into her glass of diet soda. “It’s just so weird that a serial killer would end up here, in little Eagle Mountain. What’s the attraction?”

  “I guess killers take vacations and go to visit relatives, like anyone else,” Darcy said. “He got caught by the snow like a lot of other people.”

  “And while he’s here he decides he should kill a few people?” She grimaced. “It’s beyond creepy.”

  “I know the sheriff’s department and every other law enforcement officer in the area is working really hard to track him down,” Darcy said. “They’re bound to catch him soon. There aren’t that many people in this town, and he can’t leave.”

  “Yeah. You have to hope the killer really is a stranger who got stuck here—and not someone we’ve all known for years. That would freak me out. I mean, how could someone hide that side of himself?”

  “It happens all the time,” Darcy said. The man who had raped her had seemed like another good-looking, charming fellow student—until he had refused to let her leave his apartment one night, and had turned what had started as a pleasant date into a nightmare.

  “I guess it does,” Stacy said. “I mean, the news reports always have some neighbor talking about ‘He was such a nice, quiet man. He kept to himself and didn’t hurt anybody.’”

  The waitress—an older woman whose name tag identified her as Ella—delivered the soup and sandwiches they had both ordered. Darcy picked up her spoon.

  “Speaking of law enforcement officers,” Stacy said. “What’s the story with you and Ryder?”

  Darcy blinked. “Story?”

  “He’s not hanging around the office so much because of the case,” Stacy said. “Or at least, that’s not the only reason.” She picked up half a sandwich. “And didn’t the two of you team up at Emily Walker’s party last Saturday? How was that?”

  “It was fun.” Darcy sipped her own drink. “Until it wasn’t.”

  “Yeah, not the most romantic of circumstances,” Stacy said. She leaned across the table, her voice lowered. “Still, you have to admit he is one gorgeous man.
And I can tell he’s really into you.”

  How can you tell? Darcy wanted to ask, but she didn’t. Because it didn’t really matter what someone else thought was going on. The only gauge that counted was what she and Ryder felt. She could assess her own feelings, but the emotions of the other party in a relationship were impossible to plumb. Probably even people who had been together for years had a tough time of it.

  So what about her feelings for him? Ryder was gorgeous. And his kisses certainly hadn’t been casual pecks on the lips. But they had been thrown together under such odd circumstances. How much of her attraction to him was fueled by fear? If anyone could protect her from this Ice Cold Killer, surely it was a lawman who wore a gun pretty much all the time. And what if she was mistaking his sense of duty to protect her for something more? “I like him,” she said. “But it’s not as if we’ve even had a real date.” The party had been a good start, but they had been interrupted before they had spent all that much time together.

  “You can fix that,” Stacy said.

  “Fix what?”

  “Not having had a date. Ask him out.”

  “Oh. Well, he’s really busy right now.”

  “He can’t work all the time,” Stacy said. “He has to eat, right? Take him to dinner. Or better yet, offer to cook at your place.”

  Yes, she and Ryder had shared tea and conversation and even soup at her place, but it wasn’t a real date. A real date, where she dressed up and cleaned the house and put some effort into a meal, felt like too much just yet. Too intimate and confining.

  Maybe a little too reminiscent of her date-turned-nightmare with the man who had raped her.

  “Okay, you’re not digging that idea,” Stacy said. “I can see it on your face. So what about an activity? Maybe something outdoors? Go ice-skating at City Park.”

  “I don’t know how to skate.” A broken bone didn’t sound very romantic.

  “Then something else. You’re smart. You can think of something.”

  “What if he says no?”

  “He won’t.” Stacy pointed her soup spoon at Darcy. “Don’t be a coward. And hey, think of it this way—when you’re out with a cop, Mr. Ice Cold isn’t going to come anywhere near you.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  As the highway closure stretched to its second week, what had been a fun, short-term adventure began to wear on everyone’s nerves. Tempers were shorter, complaints were louder and signs on the doors of stores and restaurants warned of limited menus and items no longer available. All the fresh milk and bread in town were gone, though a couple of women were making a killing selling their home-baked loaves, and the local coffee shop had converted more than a few people to almond milk and soy milk lattes. One of the town’s two gas stations was out of gas. The city had made the decision to not plow the streets, and people made the best of the situation by breaking out cross-country skis for their commutes.

  Darcy figured she had enough fuel to take her through another week. Weather prognosticators were predicting a break in the storms any day now—but they had been saying that for a while.

  Four days had passed since Fiona’s murder, and though tensions in town were still high, Darcy had stopped flinching every time the door to the clinic opened, and she had stopped looking over her shoulder every few seconds as she drove home in the evening.

  “Ryder is here.” Stacy made the announcement Wednesday afternoon in a singsong voice reminiscent of a schoolgirl on the playground teasing another girl about her crush.

  Darcy finished vaccinating Sage Ryan’s tortoise-shell cat and frowned at Stacy. They’d have to have a discussion about interrupting Darcy while she was with a client.

  “Do you mean that hunky highway patrolman?” Sage asked as she gathered the cat—Cosmo—into her arms once more. “He’s easy enough on the eyes that I might not even mind getting a ticket from him.”

  “Cosmo should be good for another three years on his rabies vaccine,” Darcy said. “He’s a nice, healthy cat, though it wouldn’t hurt for him to lose a few pounds. I’ll ask Stacy to give you our handout on helping cats lose weight.”

  “Oh, he’s just a little pudgy, aren’t you, honey?” Sage nuzzled the cat, who looked as if he was only tolerating the attention in hopes it would pay off with a treat. “He’s so cute, I can’t help but spoil him.”

  “Try spoiling him with toys and pats instead of treats,” Darcy said. “He’ll be much better for it in the long run.”

  “I’ll try.” She caught Darcy’s eye, her cheeks reddening slightly. “And I’m sorry if I said anything out of line about your boyfriend. I promise I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  Darcy opened her mouth to protest that Ryder was not her boyfriend, but the eager look in Sage’s eyes changed her mind. No sense providing more fuel for the town gossips.

  She followed Sage out to the front. “Now’s your chance,” Stacy whispered as Darcy passed.

  In the waiting room, Ryder rose from the chair he had taken by the door. Dressed in his sharp blue and buff uniform, tall leather boots accenting his strong legs and the leather jacket with the black shearling collar adding to the breadth of his shoulders, he definitely was easy on the eyes, as Sage had said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said.

  “I can give you a few minutes,” she said and led the way past Stacy, who didn’t even pretend not to stare, into the exam room she’d just exited. “What can I do for you?” she asked, picking up the bottle of spray disinfectant.

  “I just wanted to see you, make sure you haven’t had any more suspicious customers or disturbances at your home,” he said.

  “No.” She sprayed down the metal exam table. “I promise I’ll let you know if anything happens.”

  “I know.” He leaned against the wall, relaxed. “I guess I just wanted to see you. I’ve been so busy we haven’t seen much of each other the past couple of days.”

  The knowledge that he missed her made her feel a little melted inside. “It’s really good to see you, too.” She set aside the spray bottle. Her palms were sweating, but it was now or never. “I’ve been meaning to call you,” she said.

  “Oh?”

  “I wondered if you wanted to go skiing this weekend. I mean, if you’re free. I know you’re putting in a lot of overtime on the case, but I thought—”

  He touched her arm. “I’d love to,” he said. “Unless something urgent comes up, I can take a day off. When?”

  “Sunday? The office is never open then, and the forecast is for clearing weather.”

  “Sounds great. I’ll pick you up. Is ten o’clock good?”

  “Sure.” She couldn’t seem to stop grinning. “I hope nothing happens to keep you from it. Things have been pretty quiet lately, right?”

  “Yeah. But it feels like we’re waiting for the other shoe to drop. We know the killer hasn’t gone anywhere, because he can’t.”

  “Maybe he’s decided to stop killing people.”

  “That’s not usually the way it works with serial killers. I think he’s waiting for something.”

  “Waiting for what?”

  “I don’t know.” He patted her shoulder, then kissed her cheek. “Don’t let down your guard,” he said. “And I’ll see you Sunday morning.”

  She opened the door of the exam room just wide enough to watch him saunter down the short hallway to the door to the lobby. Now she would be the one waiting, anticipating time alone with Ryder and where that might lead.

  * * *

  THE SNOW THAT had been falling when Ryder awoke Sunday morning had all but stopped by the time he reached Darcy’s house, and patches of blue were starting to show through the gray clouds. But Darcy, dressed in a bright yellow and blue parka and snow pants, would have brightened even the dreariest day. Ryder’s heart gave a lurch as she walked out to meet him, her smile lighting her face. Oh yeah, he was definitely fall
ing for this woman, though it was harder to read what she felt for him.

  At least she looked happy enough to see him today, though maybe it was just the break in the snow that had her smiling. “I’m so relieved to see a change in the weather,” she said.

  “This was a great idea,” he said, opening up the back of the Tahoe and taking the skis she handed to him. “Nothing like getting out in the fresh air to clear away the cobwebs.”

  “I’ve been looking forward to a little time off from work,” she said, handing him her ski poles.

  “I guess it hasn’t been easy, handling the practice by yourself,” he said. On top of grieving the loss of her friend, she was having to do the work of two people.

  “In some ways it’s been a blessing.” She stepped back and tucked a stray lock of hair beneath her blue stocking cap. “I haven’t had too much time to brood. But I haven’t had much time off, either. One day soon I need to sit down and draw up a new schedule. I can’t keep the office open ten hours a day, six days a week by myself.”

  “You could bring in another partner,” he said.

  She wrinkled her nose. “That would be hard to do. The partnership with Kelly worked because we had been such good friends for years. I don’t know if I could bring in a stranger. If it were the other way around—if Kelly was the one having to look to replace me—it wouldn’t be so hard. She loved meeting new people and she got along with everyone. It takes me a lot longer to warm up to people.”

  Her eyes met his and he wondered if she was warning him off—or letting him know how privileged he was to be invited closer to her.

  She looked away and moved past him to deposit her backpack next to the skis. “I imagine you could use a break, too,” she said. “With the roads closed, you’re the only state patrol officer in town.”

  “Yes, though most of my patrol area is closed due to the snow,” he said. “Which isn’t so bad. It’s left me more time to concentrate on the case.”