King stepped out into the hall and asked, “Where is she? What’s her name?”
Alvarez told him where she was and gave him a knowing look when he told him her name. “Mrs. Christopher Bowers.”
Chapter Eighty-One
With his back to the sun, Ace stared up from the sidewalk into what he knew was Eva’s apartment window. His body buzzed with a feeling of restlessness. Dancing on his toes, Ace knew his story was coming to a close. He could feel it. And he didn’t like how the ending was being written. Even with his tips to the media, he was losing control of the story. He’d worked too long and too hard to keep his secret quiet for it to end like this. He wanted nothing more than to go out with a bang.
Reminding himself what he had waiting at home, he turned and faced the street.
Cradling his injured hand wrapped in gauze, he flexed and stretched his fingers to keep them from cramping. He should have killed Jenny for biting him, but the truth was, he liked her—especially appreciated her strength and courage to fight back. After all, that was the reason for kidnapping her, wasn’t it?
A man an inch taller than him skirted past and hurried to the apartment complex entrance, leaving a heady scent of cologne in his wake. Ace made a face and sized him up. He was made of muscle, but not the kind of strength that would hold up in a fight. That was what was wrong with today’s men. They slaved in the gym only to keep up appearance, not to prepare for battle.
“People are so superficial,” he grumbled.
Turning toward his car parked on the street, he caught a man staring at him from behind the glare of his windshield. Ace paused, but only for a second. Was it an undercover cop? Had he been tailed? Followed here after he dumped Megan’s body?
Taking a deep breath to compose himself and hide his paranoia, Ace got into his car and turned the key over. The radio came on, the news still only talking about Jessica. Flicking his gaze to the rearview mirror, Ace stared at the stranger’s face and naturally turned his mind to the one woman who he knew hadn’t been home for several nights; Eva.
Reaching across the seat, he pulled the Prom Queen Killer book from his pack and turned the radio off. What he needed was some peace and quiet. Hard to do with the constant chatter happening inside his head, but as he flipped through the dog-eared pages, Ace wondered what they would someday call him when this was all over. He had a few names he’d given himself over the years, but none were as good as the Prom Queen Killer.
Lifting his head, he checked his mirrors.
Hiding his true self was the toughest thing he’d had to do. Not abducting young women who trusted him, not having to conceal his identity, nor silence those who dared to challenge his authority. All of that came easily to him. But being a complete fake? That was the hardest of all.
Closing his eyes, Ace breathed out his frustration. With his head resting against the back of the seat, he needed to break free from this umbilical cord that kept him tethered to living the life of someone else.
“You can do this.” He exhaled. “Now is your time.” He could feel it in his bones.
With his eyes slowly opening, he flipped to the back of the book and retrieved the picture of him with Eva. They were together, side-by-side thanks to a little Photoshop manipulation. He didn’t care. In his mind, they were the perfect couple and this picture was real.
The lights of the car behind him came on. Ace watched as the stranger pulled alongside his window and glared as he passed. Ace didn’t care. His fantasy of Eva was growing stronger by the minute. There was nothing more he wanted than to prove he was the best by kidnapping the girl everyone had their eyes on.
“I’m coming for you, Eva. Today is our day of holy matrimony.”
Chapter Eighty-Two
Jenny’s teeth chattered. She couldn’t stop shivering. Hugging her knees to her chest, she was curled up in a ball on the floor, fighting off the intense chills burrowing deep into her bones.
The food she ate made things worse. As soon as it settled in her stomach, the real problems started. And it wasn’t just the cold of Megan’s room that was getting to her. She couldn’t stop blaming her mother for how she ended up here. If it wasn’t for her mother’s finances—or lack thereof—Jenny would have never made the bad decision she had.
So it goes, the story of her life.
Megan’s room was so much lonelier than her own. Jenny wished she could go back, be surrounded by her own pictures and see Naomi one last time. As that emptiness grew in the pit of her stomach, Jenny couldn’t stop thinking how Megan had slept on this same floor before she was eventually killed.
Jenny rocked through another earth-quaking shiver before rolling to her other side.
She hung on to hope only because she’d been fed. That made her believe she’d done something to win her captor over—to convince him she was worth keeping. Why give her the nutrition if he didn’t want her to have the strength?
As encouragement swirled between her ears, Jenny stood and tried the door. The handle didn’t budge. It was locked. Just like she knew it would be. There was no leaving without his consent, no chance to break free. It had been nearly a half hour since she heard him leave and the house was quiet as death.
“Megan is dead,” she called out to the house, getting no response. “You heard him. He killed her, and he’ll kill us all too if we don’t work together to escape.” Jenny waited for any of the other girls to respond. When no one did, she raised her voice even louder, “Didn’t you hear what I said? He’s going to kill us.”
“I just want to see my little sister again.”
Jenny recognized the voice. It was Sage.
Sage continued, “She’d be sixteen now, though I doubt she’d remember who I was.”
“Sage,” Jenny called out, wanting to hold her hand as she could feel Sage beginning to lose hope. “Don’t give up. You’ll see your sister again. We can do this, but we need to work together.”
“It’s been ten years. My family’s moved on. I’m sure of it.” Jenny heard what sounded like Sage’s shoulders falling against the wall as she slid down to the floor. Sage said sadly, “He’s never going to let us free.”
Jenny moved to the wall of photos and began browsing each of them, this time looking closer for clues to who might have taken them. She couldn’t believe Sage had been here for ten years. If it was true, Jenny was determined to have her experience be different. That’s when she found it. A picture of Megan changing in the locker room.
Jenny inched closer to the wall, her heart beating faster as she remembered the rumors about Bennett circling the school at the end of last year. With her finger on the picture, Jenny said loud enough for all to hear, “I’m here because I slept with an older man.”
A minute of silence passed before Nicole said, “Me too.”
Then, another girl said, “That’s why I think I’m here.”
Jenny’s chest swelled with hope, which only grew when she noticed a face caught in the reflection of the waxed vinyl flooring of the high school gym locker room. It was a face, and one she recognized.
“No, it can’t be,” she whispered to herself, taking a step back. Then she said to everyone, “The person who’s holding us against our will is a teacher, and one we probably all know.”
Chapter Eighty-Three
I stood next to my car with one hand on the handle, waiting for Stark to leave. I didn’t know who to trust. Erin said Eva was going to Stark, yet she wasn’t here. Either Eva lied or Stark was. But worse was what Stark said about Carr. Would Eva really go back to the man who abused her? Women did it all the time, so why would Eva be any different?
No matter what we decided to do next, I feared we were leaving Eva exposed and vulnerable for at least one of the men to take advantage of her. If Eva knew we were watching her, we’d lose her trust for good.
“What do you want to do?” I asked Erin.
“Nothing until we see what’s inside his garage.”
We were still looking for the mys
terious red truck. As soon as the garage door opened, Erin’s chin lifted. I side-stepped to see completely inside. To our surprise, there was no truck at all. Only a black Audi TT alongside two snowmobiles and a Harley Davidson motorcycle.
“This isn’t good, Sam.” Erin opened her car door. “I think Eva played us.”
I buckled myself in and knew we had no choice but to head to Carr’s. He was easy to locate. Erin pulled up his address and did what research she could as I drove. It didn’t take us long to find his place.
Oliver Carr had a nice upper middle-class home in the Arapahoe Acres neighborhood. We thought Eva might have come here instead of going home. I followed the hedge leading up to the grand entrance of the large house and climbed the short flight of stairs before ringing the doorbell.
We waited in silence for what felt like forever. When Erin was about to hit the bell again, Carr answered the door.
“Can I help you?” he said.
We exchanged formalities, and as soon as we introduced ourselves, Carr knew why we were here. He said, “I’ve been worried about her.”
“And why is that?”
“Are you kidding? Have you not watched the news? The police found a body near the South Platte that looked just like her.”
“Can we come in?” I asked.
Carr paused for a moment, then stepped to the side. He was quick to apologize for the mess. “I’m remodeling my basement and, well, it’s not going as quickly as I originally hoped.”
Carr latched the basement door closed and continued leading us into the living room. He was a man who worked out of his home office. To my surprise, he wasn’t the man I was expecting to meet. Instead of being cold and aggressive as Stark described, Carr was warm and welcoming, even charming at times.
I asked, “When was the last time you saw Eva?”
Carr was texting on his cell when he picked his head up and looked me in the eye. “Not since she disappeared.”
Did he mean what he said? Did he know she was kidnapped?
“And when was that?” I asked.
Carr was back on his phone and seemed distracted. I wondered who he was talking to. What could be so important to invite us inside only to pretend we weren’t here? After he was finished doing whatever he was doing, he motioned for us to follow him into the kitchen. He talked as he walked. “Eva warned me you two might show up.”
“She did? When?”
“About an hour ago.”
Yet he was worried about her?
Carr turned and met Erin’s eye. I watched his gaze travel the length of her as he grinned. It was clear he liked what he saw. I couldn’t deny the obvious. A beautiful tall blonde with fair skin was the exact opposite of a black-haired teen with a dark complexion. Erin used his attraction to our advantage.
“Did she say where she was?” Erin asked.
“I’d better not tell.” Carr gave half a smile. “I promised her I wouldn’t.”
I was starting to see the real Carr, the man Stark had described. As ugly as it appeared to be, a part of me was relieved to think maybe Stark hadn’t been lying after all. But I didn’t like how Carr was making me believe he knew where Eva was.
“Where did you two meet?” I asked. Carr mentioned the sugaring website and I followed up with another question I knew he wouldn’t appreciate. “Did the sex ever get rough between you two?”
Carr swept his glimmering eyes off Erin and rolled them over to me where I watched the shine quickly fade. “I never did anything that Eva didn’t want.” Was that his opinion or hers? His brow knitted when he asked, “Why, did Eva say I hurt her?”
“We’ve heard, and not from Eva, that things might have gotten rough between you two.”
Carr narrowed his eyes. “It was Stark who told you that, wasn’t it?”
Erin changed the subject before we lost him. “If you knew Eva was missing, and possibly in trouble, why didn’t you call the cops?”
Carr wet his lips and visibly relaxed. “She’s not the only girlfriend I have to keep track of.”
A woman collector.
“We had a fight.” Carr shifted his gaze over to me. “She left here angry.”
Motive to kill.
Erin asked, “Care to tell me what the fight was about?”
“Dumb shit.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, grabbing my stomach, “but is it possible to use your toilet?”
Carr straightened and directed me down the hall, away from the basement I desperately wanted to check out for myself. Something about a remodel made me suspicious. I thanked him and stepped inside, pretending to close the door behind me. Instead, as soon as he was gone, I ducked out and headed down the hall looking for his office. I hoped Erin would distract him long enough for me to see the man he truly was.
I passed a guest room and marveled at his high ceilings. The house was large, but luck brought me into his office after only a short search.
Turning my ear to the front of the house, I listened before entering. Once I knew Erin had his complete attention, I tip-toed my way to his desk and began browsing. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was looking for, but Carr certainly knew quite a bit about Eva’s disappearance. Was that because he was guilty? His office gave no indication that he was. It was all work, invoices, and to-do lists before I got lucky and found a treasure of secrets in the right drawer of his desk.
Inside were dozens of Polaroid pictures of women exposing themselves to the camera. I couldn’t believe they were just laying inside an unlocked drawer, not hidden inside a safe. When I thought about why, and how he got these women to agree to do these photoshoots, blackmail was the only thing that came to mind.
I flipped through the stack as fast as I could, looking for Eva or any other face I recognized. None of these women were the girls I knew were missing. No Megan. No Jessica. No Jenny. They were all new faces, eyes I’d never seen.
Did a teacher murder Megan, or was Carr our guy?
I placed the stack of photos where I’d found them and closed the drawer. I was about to leave when I saw a plain manila folder on the corner of his desk. It was not addressed. No stamp. Nothing. But it was clearly stuffed full. I listened for a moment and heard Erin’s voice far down the hall. I opened the manila folder and froze.
“Jackpot,” I said, looking at the picture I knew Archie took of Eva outside the medical examiner’s office in my car.
I snapped a quick photo of the picture inside the folder with my phone, knowing my time was running out. As soon as I tucked my cellphone away in my back pocket, I heard Carr ask Erin, “Is your friend all right? Maybe you should go check on her?”
“Tell me more about your job,” I heard Erin say.
Unprepared for what I found, I exited Carr’s office, imagining Erin touching Carr’s arm as she stared into his eyes, pretending to care about what he had to say. Hurrying down the hall, I dipped into the bathroom and flushed the toilet, wet my hands under the faucet, and was back inside the kitchen before Carr had a chance to escape Erin’s grasp.
Erin turned her head and looked at me. “Ah, there she is. Feeling better, sweetie?”
“Must have been something I ate,” I said with a forced smile.
Carr was giving me a suspicious eye when a call came through his office line. I hoped he would decide to ignore it, but instead he said, “Excuse me, I’m going to have to get that. It’s work.”
I kept my eye on Carr as he hurried to his study—the same room I was just snooping around—hoping I’d put everything back in place without him knowing I was there. As soon as he was out of sight, I turned to Erin. “We have to leave now.”
“What? Why? We’re just breaking the ice on this jerk.”
“I didn’t use the toilet,” I whispered. Erin gave me an arched look. “I went to his office and this is what I found.”
Erin took my phone into her hand, studied the picture, and I watched her eyes flash with disbelief.
I nodded. We were sharing the same thought.
“You think they’re working together?” Erin asked in a hushed voice.
“How else can you explain him having it?”
Erin glanced to my phone again when Carr snuck up from behind. “Everything all right?”
“I’m not feeling well,” I said, again pressing my hand flat against my rock-hard stomach. “But if you hear from Eva, please give us a call.”
“Certainly,” Carr said, taking Erin’s business card.
He walked us to the door but, before leaving, Erin turned to him and asked, “I nearly forgot, but do you own a red pickup truck?”
“I do.” Carr’s jaw set. “Why do you ask?”
“Mind if we see it?”
Carr paused for a beat and lifted his chin. “Sorry, it’s currently on loan with a friend.”
Chapter Eighty-Four
Mrs. Bowers sat alone two doors away from where Detective Gray was closing out her interview with Jessica. Mrs. Bowers’s expression was tight and there wasn’t a trace of doubt in her eyes. After Alvarez had learned why it was she was here, he moved her inside the box so she could speak without fear.
King sifted through his thoughts. He hadn’t thought about Christopher since his visit to the work site, and now he wondered if he should have kept a closer eye on him.
King asked, “Does Christopher know she’s here?”
Alvarez had his hands in his pockets when he shook his head no. “Hasn’t mentioned Eva’s name at all, either.” Alvarez rolled his gaze over to King. “Only Megan’s.”
King turned his attention back to Mrs. Bowers, thinking about her husband’s story of Eva running for her life through the empty streets during the early morning hours when he found her. Had she really been running away from him? Mrs. Bowers was here about Megan, but all King could think about was Eva.
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