by Lynn Shannon
“Nice campus,” he remarked. “I imagine it’s not always this quiet.”
“No, it’s busy during the week. We have roughly 3,000 students enrolled full-time and another 1,000 part-time, but only 600 live on campus.” Avery maneuvered around the fountain and peeked at Weston out of the corner of her eye.
The man was heart-stoppingly handsome. Features so sharp and intensely masculine, they appeared chiseled out of granite. His dark hair was a bit too long at the collar and slightly shaggy on top, as if he hadn’t had a haircut in a while. Weston’s knees were practically touching his chest and his head was tilted to prevent smashing it against the roof. He held his cowboy hat in one massive hand. He couldn’t be comfortable in the cart but didn’t complain.
Although they’d never met, Avery knew a few things about him from her friend, Megan. Weston was widowed. A former football player. An excellent investigator and a good friend. Megan had hinted at setting Avery up with Weston a few times. Her friend was sure they would hit it off, but Avery resisted the idea.
Life was funny. A year and a half ago, Avery had been engaged and Megan had been the one rebuffing romance. Now the roles were entirely reversed. Her friend was happily married with a baby on the way and Avery was the one avoiding relationships.
“What kind of security do you have on campus?” Weston asked, cutting into her thoughts. “Surely, you have cameras.”
“We do, but the security system is old and outdated. Most of the cameras are focused on the parking lots. There are some on the pathways. When I took over as police chief six months ago, one of the first things I did was request money for a new system. The dean has been receptive to the idea—especially since we’ve had increasing reports of thefts on campus—but a new security system costs money.”
“Let me guess, it’s money they don’t want to spend.”
“Correct.” She turned the steering wheel, following the path. “But, in all fairness, Harrison is a small university located in a tiny corner of Texas. Union County has only 2,000 permanent residents, not including students or faculty. Nothing like this has happened on campus before.”
Weston grunted. “They fell into the common trap that serious crime only happens in the big city.”
“Exactly. None of the cameras in the parking lots picked up anything suspicious, but I have a theory about how the killer got into the building with Jane Doe’s body.”
Avery passed the main entrance to the Fairman Building and circled around to the side. A small swatch of grass was the only division between the building and a row of pine trees. She parked the cart and got out. Weston joined her.
“The Fairman Building is on the edge of campus.” Avery pointed to a worn path leading through the trees. “Down that way is a public street. As a shortcut, students sometimes park there and come through the woods to the building. I believe the killer used the same method, bringing Jane Doe through this side door. He would’ve avoided any security cameras.”
Weston frowned. “But it wouldn’t have necessarily prevented him from running into someone. Another student coming out of the building or someone on the road.”
“The victim was petite. The coroner found evidence indicating she may have been put into some kind of luggage. My guess is, the killer transported her in a large suitcase. I can’t prove it because there was a huge thunderstorm that night and any tracks were washed away, but it’s the simplest method. Students and faculty travel all of the time for various reasons. No one would’ve looked at him twice.”
“It’s a good theory.” He eyed the side entrance. “Did you recover any prints off the door?”
“Nothing usable. There were tons inside the classroom where Jane was found, but that’s not surprising considering the number of students passing through on any given day. I doubt we’ll get a match to the killer. He’s probably smart enough to have worn gloves.”
Weston reached for the handle and pulled. The door opened. “Would this entrance have been unlocked on the night of the murder?”
“Most of the buildings, including this one, are open until ten o’clock at night. After that, students and faculty have to use their university IDs to gain access to any restricted area. Each time an ID is scanned, it’s stored in our computer system.”
He gestured for her to pass through and lead the way to the classroom. “I take it no one scanned their ID prior to the discovery of the body.”
“No, but it was only 10:30 when she was found, and the scene would’ve taken time to set up. It’s likely the killer entered while the building was open.” She paused. “How long do you think it will take to get an ID on Jane Doe?”
“Depends. I’ve already called the coroner’s office and put a rush on it. If we’re lucky, we could get an ID within a few hours.”
Some of the knots in Avery’s stomach loosened. She was grateful to have Weston’s help on the case. More than grateful. He could’ve refused to take it on or asked her to wait. Texas Rangers were assigned a specific geographical area. Harrison University was in Luke’s region, and technically, it was his case. But Weston had stepped forward to fill in without hesitation. No wonder Luke and Megan spoke so highly of him.
“Once inside, I think the killer used this set of stairs,” Avery said, escorting Weston up one flight. “The classroom is right here.”
The memory of finding Jane flashed before her eyes and Avery’s hand tightened on the door handle. She took a deep breath. Someone had murdered the young woman, but he wasn’t going to get away with it. Avery would do everything possible to get justice. She pushed open the door and stepped aside so Weston could enter.
“Who discovered the body?” he asked.
“Professor Marianne Jenkins. She called for a security escort and came downstairs to wait but realized she’d left her cell phone charger in her office. Once upstairs, she noticed the door to this classroom was cocked open, came to close it, and discovered Jane. As you can imagine, Professor Jenkins was terrified. She ran to the stairwell at the end of the hallway and tripped on the last couple of steps. That’s where I found her.”
“Was she injured?”
“Not seriously, but the poor woman had to be sedated. I was able to question her beforehand though. There were others in the building earlier in the evening, but to her knowledge, they all left around nine.”
“And she didn’t see or hear anything suspicious?”
“No. She was closed up in her office working for hours. It was her habit to play music to keep her company.”
Weston was quiet for a moment. He wandered over to the windows and looked out at the courtyard below. “Why this specific room? There are classrooms on the first floor. We passed them to get up here. It would’ve been a lot easier to deposit Jane’s body there. Or, even better, dump her in the trees. The killer went to a lot of trouble to stage the scene. None of this makes any sense unless we assume every action he made was purposefully done.”
That same conclusion had haunted her all night. “Every action…including the note.”
“Yes.” He turned to face her. “Avery, if the killer merely wanted your attention, he only had to dump Jane’s body on campus. You would’ve automatically been in charge of the case as chief of police.”
Goosebumps broke out across her skin. “That’s not what he did.”
“No. He specifically targeted you in a personal note. Why?”
“I don’t know.” She rubbed her forehead. A pounding headache was blooming along the temples. One she knew would turn into a migraine later. “Like I mentioned earlier, I was with the Houston Police Department until moving home six months ago to work as Chief of Police for the university. None of the cases I’ve worked resemble anything like this. I’ve never been the victim of a crime. Never had a stalker. I can’t imagine any way this could be about me.”
“What about someone in your family? Have any of them been the victim of a crime?”
“No.” She sucked in a breath and dropped her hand. “Oh, no.
How could I have missed it? I’m not the only cop in the family. My father…he died fifteen years ago, but he was a detective with the sheriff’s office. Maybe this isn’t about me. At least, not directly.”
Weston’s mouth flattened. “Maybe it’s about him.”
Three
Murder required patience.
The Chessmaster glanced over his shoulder. No one was in the hall. He ducked inside the classroom, careful to pull the blinds and keep the lights out. Most people were oblivious to their surroundings. He used that to his advantage.
On soft-soled shoes, he moved across the room toward the large bank of windows on the opposite side. Dusk had painted the campus with muted colors of blue and pink. The Chessmaster pulled a small set of binoculars from his pocket. He raised them, focusing on the Harrison University Police Department across the street, zeroing in on the third window from the left.
Avery Madison sat at her desk. Inside his gloves, the Chessmaster’s fingers twitched. Rage churned his stomach and heated his blood. He longed to wrap his hands around her throat and squeeze the very breath from her. To watch the life drain from her eyes.
Not yet.
The Chessmaster took a deep breath. Patience. It was what separated the masters from the fools. Recklessness, poor attention to detail, selecting the wrong moment—these are what landed a man in jail. He did not make mistakes. No, he was vigilant and precise. Chess had taught him that. To strategize, to counter, to weigh his options and strike when the moment was right. Soon…soon Avery would know him.
More importantly, she would fear him.
He turned his binoculars to the large man in the visitor’s chair. A glint of something pinned to the man’s chest caught his eye, and he focused on it. A Texas Ranger’s badge. Ahhh, Avery had called in the calvary, just as he’d anticipated. The Chessmaster shifted his attention to the man’s face. No, it wasn’t Luke Tatum. This man he’d never seen before. Never mind. The effect was the same. Avery had countered his move.
Time to advance the game.
Four
Avery adjusted the cool cloth on her forehead. Her headache from earlier was almost gone. Shadows stretched across her living room as the late afternoon gave way to evening. Cooper, her dog, placed his head on her lap and sighed. His fur was mostly white save for several large brown patches—one over each eye and another placed crookedly on his back.
She stroked his forehead. “Sorry we didn’t get to go to the park today, but your mom had to work. I left you a bone. And there were squirrels to watch from the window.”
His eyebrows shifted, and he gave another sigh. She’d adopted Cooper from the shelter shortly after moving to Union County. He was roughly five years old with all the attitude of a teenager and a propensity for chewing on shoes. Avery adored him.
“Fine.” She scratched behind his ears. “Today wasn’t great. But it wasn’t for me either. I had to sit with a Texas Ranger for hours, answering a million questions about my life, searching for any possible reason a killer might’ve left a note for me.”
They hadn’t come up with anything. Which brought Avery right back to her father. Kenneth Madison had been an exemplary police officer, decorated several times for his service. The idea that one of the criminals he’d put away had circled back around to hurt her was unsettling.
Avery removed the cold cloth from her forehead and reached for the framed photograph on the end table. In the picture, Avery and her dad were sitting on the front porch swing. Kenneth was caught midlaugh, his smile wide and eyes twinkling. A faint hint of gray touched the hair at his temples. His arm was wrapped around Avery’s shoulders. The love and adoration between them was captured in that one perfect moment.
Her grandmother had taken the photograph surreptitiously, and it was one of Avery’s favorites. She’d been seventeen at the time. Her father died just a few months after the picture had been taken. Avery missed him every day.
Cooper shifted closer as if sensing her sadness and gently licked her hand. She stroked his head. “Thanks, Cooper. Love you too.”
Her cell phone rang. It was her sister, Savannah. Avery answered. “Hey, sis.”
“Hey. I’m checking on you. Nana’s made enough chili for the entire town. There’s also cornbread and chocolate cake. Please tell me you’re still coming to dinner.”
Avery chuckled. Her grandmother had a tendency to go overboard for Sunday dinner. “There’s no way I’d pass up Nana’s chili. Set a place for me.”
“Will do.”
She grabbed the photograph, intending to return it to the end table, but paused. Avery’s father had been a disciplined detective and meticulous notetaker. Every case he worked started with handwritten impressions, which were memorialized later into written police reports. “Hey, Savannah, do you know if Nana still has those notebooks Dad used for work?”
“I’d have to look in the attic to be sure, but I’m almost positive Nana threw them out years ago. I found a few of Dad’s coats in the upstairs closet. There was a notebook tucked in the pocket of one, but I tossed it.”
Her heart sank. “What about the coats?”
“We sold them at the church garage sale. Why are you asking for Dad’s notebooks?”
Avery hesitated. “It’s for a case.”
“Is this about the murder at the university—” Savannah stopped and then huffed out a breath. “Nope. Forget I asked. Active investigation. You can’t tell me anything.”
No, she couldn’t. The university was being very careful about what information was shared. Avery set the photograph on the end table and got up from the couch. Cooper groaned and stretched before following her down the hall to the bedroom.
“I heard on the news this evening that you brought in the Texas Rangers,” Savannah said. “You aren’t working with Luke on this, are you? I thought you told me Megan went into labor.”
“She did. And before you ask, I haven’t heard anything about the baby yet. As for the case, another ranger is working with me. Weston Donovan. He’s very nice and has an excellent reputation.”
He was also handsome and smart, but Avery wasn’t about to share those qualities. Not even with her sister. Avery picked up a brush from her dresser and ran it through her hair.
“Where have I heard that name before?” Savannah asked. “Wait. Isn’t Weston the guy Megan was trying to set you up with?”
“Don’t start, sis. Weston and I are working together. Besides, I’m not interested in dating. Which is exactly what I told Megan.”
“Not every guy is like Jeffrey, Avery.”
She winced thinking of her ex-fiancé, Jeffrey Strikes. He was a prosecutor, and they’d met while she was a homicide detective with the Houston Police Department. Avery had foolishly thought they were in love, until she walked in on Jeffrey fooling around with a junior attorney on his staff. The cheating had been devastating, and she’d broken off their engagement. But the bigger problem was grappling with her knowledge of the affair. Jeffrey’s junior attorney was a subordinate. Having a relationship with her was against department policy.
Ultimately, Avery informed Jeffrey that if he ended the liaison, she would keep silent. Instead of taking her advice, Jeffrey counter-punched. He went to Avery’s boss and said she was cheating on him with a subordinate officer. His accusation set off an Internal Affairs investigation and nearly ruined her career. Avery’s name had eventually been cleared, but the entire experience had taken a toll on her.
“I know what Jeffery did was horrible,” Savannah continued. “And he hurt you deeply. But there are good men out there. Honest ones. I don’t want you to close yourself off to the opportunity for happiness if God places someone in your life.”
“I hear what you’re saying, but I’m just not ready. And dating someone I’m working with is never going to happen again.” She set the brush down. “Let me finish getting ready. I’ll see you in a bit.”
Avery hung up. Cooper growled, drawing her attention. The dog was standing at the bedroo
m window. He’d parted the curtains with his nose and was staring at something. Avery joined him. The wide expanse of the grassy yard ended in a tree line.
“What is it, boy? What do you see?” She waited a moment, her gaze flickering from one area of the yard to another. Shadows caressed the trees, but nothing moved. “I don’t see a thing. Not even a squirrel.”
She patted Cooper on the head before crossing the room and entering the bathroom. The mirror wasn’t doing her any favors. Avery grimaced at her pale complexion and the circles shadowing her eyes. She splashed her face with cold water before digging out some makeup. A bit of lip gloss and a touch of mascara did wonders.
Cooper hadn’t moved from the bedroom window. He stared intently at the glass and the yard beyond. Avery paused midstep. “Coop?”
He glanced at her before turning back to the window. He growled again. The hair on the back of Avery’s neck stood up. Cooper wasn’t a trained guard dog, but he also wasn’t one to bark and growl at nothing either. Before she could even consciously decide, her feet were moving toward the nightstand. She slid open the small drawer. Inside was her Harrison University Police Department badge and weapon. Avery picked up the Glock 22, her fingers wrapping around the grip, and flipped off the bedroom lights. She let her eyes adjust to the darkness before moving back to the window and scanning the yard and the tree line, looking for anything that could’ve raised Cooper’s suspicions.
There. Her heart skipped a beat. Was that a person? The shape was nothing more than a shadow. Still, her hand tightened on the gun. She quickly moved to the front door. Avery slipped on her work boots and a jacket to protect her from the cold. Cooper, sensing she’d finally listened to him, joined her.
“Sorry, bud, you have to stay here.” The dog was more likely to put her in danger than save her from it.
She slipped onto the porch, plastering herself against the brick to avoid triggering the motion-sensor floodlights. The scent of wet grass and damp earth enveloped her. Keeping her gun pointed at the ground, she moved quickly toward the corner of the house. Avery’s heart thumped hard against her rib cage, but her steps were sure and measured.