SVU Surveillance

by Julie Anne Lindsey

  “Nothing new,” he said, shuffling through a mass of photos on his side of their makeshift picnic. All images of Gwen through the years. Some of the younger woman he’d known and loved. Others of this new Gwen, reborn and reinvented. On a jogging path. Outside her office. Lunching with friends. He’d yet to see a woman as beautiful as Gwen, and she still seemed completely unaware of that. He hated how much of her life he’d missed. “You?”

  “Not really,” she said, pushing a stack of images around with her free hand. “I’m trying desperately to look at this from someone else’s perspective because when I let myself think about the fact that these are all photos of me, all taken by someone I didn’t know was there, I want to move to Peoria.” She bit into the pot sticker and chewed thoughtfully. “Maybe I could leave the country completely. I have some savings. Surely even this nut wouldn’t follow me across the globe.”

  “If I thought moving would help, I’d help you pack myself,” he said, “but you tried that once.” He cast a pointed look at the photos around them. “I think we’re going to have to see things through and catch this guy.” He weighed his next words carefully. “Eight years is a long time.”

  She pressed her lips tight and set her chopsticks down. “More than a quarter of my life.”

  “It’s a commitment. This guy is attached to you. He’s bonded. In his mind, this is some kind of long-term relationship. And it’s real.”

  Gwen wet her lips and averted her eyes. “I know.”

  Lucas felt a small sense of relief. It was important the victim understood the reality of the danger and situation fully. Gwen was smart and tough, but it was easy for anyone sitting at the eye of a storm not to see the full complexity of it. And that was paramount. “I’ve seen a lot of things since I started with the police force, but two thousand pictures over eight years? This is obsession, and it rarely ends well. My best guess is that something triggered him before, and something’s set him off again. Whether that’s something from his personal life or yours, I don’t know.” He trailed off, lifting then dropping a hand. He wasn’t sure where or how to find this ghost, but if Gwen stayed with him, he could at least keep her safe while he tried.

  “It’s okay,” she said. “I get it. It feels like we’re starting over, but we’re not. You’ve already done the research. We just have to reconsider everything you’ve collected with the new information in mind. Now we know he’s a stalker first and foremost. A dedicated one, apparently.” She huffed and rolled her eyes, then locked her gaze with his. “And I’m willing to fight this time. I ran before. As fast as I could, the moment the hospital discharged me. I did everything possible to avoid thinking about what I’d been through and what I’d lost. I’m not doing that again.”

  Lucas felt a fresh swell of pride at her determination. This woman was too much. And to be allowed into her new world, chosen as her partner in this? An honor.

  “So.” She picked up her chopsticks and forced a smile. “We can do this. Because we have to.”

  His lips twitched into a small smile. “I think I’m supposed to be the one giving the pep talks, but you’re right. And that was pretty good.”

  “I’m pretty good at a lot of things,” she said, blushing slightly as she lifted another bite to her mouth.

  Lucas tried not to think about all the things she was good at. A few sordid images sprang to mind unbidden, and he shook his head to clear them. “Let’s start from the beginning. What was your life like eight years ago?”

  “Wow.” She dug the fingers of one hand into her hair, pushing it behind her ear. “I’ve spent so long hyperfocused on the days immediately before my attack, I haven’t given my freshman or sophomore year a single thought.”

  “At least we know when it started,” he said. “You moved here from Florida for college, so this guy is someone you met at Bellemont or in town that year. What were your days like then? Your routines. Clubs or student organizations. Common hangouts?”

  Gwen groaned. “Freshman year was tough. I was completely out of my element. I’d moved from a major city in Florida, where the ocean was everywhere I looked, to a small town in rural Kentucky where cows and cornfields outnumber cars and cabs. I stayed close to campus. Ate at the student center. Ran the campus track. I tried to show up and get involved with everything that happened on campus, sure that was how I’d find my groove and meet the friends I’d have for life.” She sighed. “I was such a romantic. Everything was good in the world, and my future was full of endless possibilities.”

  “The world is good,” Lucas said. Some people were absolute evil incarnate, sure, but the rest were good. “And your life is still full of endless possibilities.”

  Her lips parted, and hope flickered through the doubt in her eyes. “I suppose you think the best is yet to come and all that?”

  “I’m certain of it,” he said, willing her to believe him.

  She returned her attention to the photos without comment or argument.

  Lucas waited, watching as she considered the images before them. A chronicle of her adult life. From the lonely college freshman she’d described to the fierce twenty-seven-year-old with him today.

  “There are a lot of photos from the hike-and-bike trail,” she said. “Almost twice as many as those taken in other places this year. All the newest shots seem concentrated around my runs. It’s where I first felt watched. The first time in years I realized someone was there.”

  Lucas finished his egg roll, then dusted his palms together. “Let’s see.”

  She handed him a stack of photos. “I divided these into years, then again into locations. From there, I stacked them according to time. So, photos of me arriving at work are first. Going out to lunch are next, you get it. I wanted to see where and when he was most often. I thought we could check a calendar, too, see if he’s only following me on certain days of the week. He can’t work regular hours like me and most of the office employees I know, or he’d have to be at his office when I am. So, we know he’s either unemployed, working part-time or on a flexible schedule.”

  Lucas marveled as he flipped through the stack she’d handed him. She was right. There were patterns. And the timeline of the photographer’s availability was important. If matched to a suspect’s work schedule, the timeline would be strong support for their case.

  “How do you feel about another drive?” he asked, turning a photo in her direction. “We can go to the hike-and-bike trail. Try to find the place where he hid to take the photos based on the angles of the shots and landmarks captured in the images. Maybe he left a clue behind. Some kind of evidence, a nest or a blind.”

  “A nest?”

  “A flattened area in the tall grass or excessive, centralized footprint among the trees. Maybe a clustering of trash, like wrappers from snacks or empty water bottles. Things that indicate someone spent a lot of time in that spot. If we’re lucky, there’ll be something we can use to track it back to one specific person.” A jolt of adrenaline shot through him at the possibility.

  Gwen leaned forward, a small smile creeping over her pretty face. “What are we waiting for?”

  * * *

  GWEN DIRECTED LUCAS to her preferred parking lot along the hike-and-bike trail. It was later in the day than she’d ever come, and the number of people was significantly higher. Still, the crowd here had nothing on the madhouse she’d jogged more recently.

  Lucas swung his pickup into an empty spot and settled the engine, taking his time to observe the scene before climbing out.

  She scanned the familiar area, hating the fear that pebbled her skin. She’d started most of her days here for years. It was beautiful, always clean and well-maintained with benches and signs identifying indigenous flora and fauna every quarter mile or so for breaks and education. The parking lot was conveniently located at the end of a short winding road, easily accessed from a much busier one. A camp of trees separated the trai
l from the main road; the trail went on for miles, paralleling a set of old railroad tracks.

  “Ready?” Lucas turned to her inside the warm cab, patient and assessing, as always.

  If she said no, he’d start the truck and leave. No questions. No judgment or pressure. That was who Lucas was, but she had to stop running. So, she nodded. Unable to speak around a sudden knot in her throat and burst of nerves in her gut.

  She’d promised herself she’d never go back on the trail, but she’d also asked Lucas for his help, then demanded he let her be involved. Now it was time to trust him to protect her, and get out of his way so he could work.

  They climbed out and met at the truck’s front bumper.

  A couple on bikes pedaled past, and a man walking a dog stepped aside to give them space.

  Lucas moved onto the trail behind the bikes, walking the dense tree line. “Do the trees grow along both sides of the trail like this for a long distance?” he asked, peering in each direction.

  “Yes.” She crossed her arms and hurried to catch up, feeling watched, even now. The trees she’d once loved for their beauty and solitude were actually the perfect hiding spot for a psychopath and his camera, she realized. Her stomach rocked with the thought.

  “No good,” Lucas muttered, waving from one side of the path to the other. “An attacker could drag a victim out of sight in seconds here.”

  Gwen shivered, wrapping her arms more tightly around her.

  “I don’t see any signs of a security patrol or cameras,” Lucas said, squinting up at the telephone poles. “The hike-and-bike trail is maintained by local park services. Did you ever see park security or any other kind of patrol out here?”

  “No.” And how stupid was it that she’d continually come here believing she was alone?

  She’d thought the danger was behind her. That she was a woman who’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time and suffered the consequences. Not the victim of a stalker.

  She’d been concentrating on emotional healing and learning to let go of the trauma. All the while, she’d been putting herself in harm’s way and thinking it was the right thing to do.

  She groaned inwardly at all the times she’d gotten spooked and had forced herself to keep her chin up and finish her jog. She’d even congratulated herself on the days she’d persevered. Chanting internally that there was nothing to be afraid of.

  Lucas whistled and slipped into the trees several yards ahead. “I think we’ve got something,” he said. “Do you have the photos?”

  Gwen hurried to meet him. She sorted through the photos, finding landmarks to orient herself. The telephone pole. A section of wooden fence. “Here.” She passed the stack to Lucas. “This is the right place.”

  Lucas moved deeper into the trees, then bumped the toe of his shoe against the ground. A patch of earth was rubbed free of grass and littered in tiny debris. Gum foils and candy wrappers. Empty water bottles that had been smashed and tucked into the rotting stump of a tree. “I think this is it.” He pulled a phone from his pocket and dialed. “You’re dedicated to your routines, so he probably started coming early and waiting for you. Traffic noise this close to the road and parking lot would’ve masked his sounds.”

  He continued to toe the ground until his shoe caught on a string. “This is Detective Lucas Winchester for Detective Anderson,” he said into the phone, then squatted to pull on the string.

  Slowly, the red nylon rope came through the strategically arranged pile of leaves. Thicker than she’d originally thought, the durable outdoor line ran a dozen feet deeper into the woods. Lucas knocked away a heap of sticks and removed a small camouflaged bag. He tugged a set of Nitrile gloves from his coat pocket and slid them over his hands while relaying the situation to whoever listened on the other end of his call.

  Gwen gripped the trunk of a tree for stability as she watched, openmouthed.

  Lucas worked the drawstring on the bag and upturned it, dumping the contents onto a swath of dirt. A full bottle of water fell out, then a mass of freezer bags, each filled with a different snack or supply. Bandages. Over-the-counter painkillers. Beef jerky. Granola and nuts. Lucas gripped the bag with both hands and gave it another shake.

  A large, oddly shaped item fell onto the pile. Its appearance elicited an immediate curse from Lucas while Gwen’s mind struggled to understand.

  He lifted the item carefully, pressing the phone to his shoulder with his ear and scowling deeply. “And an eight-inch hunting knife.” He pulled the stiff sheath away, leaving a shiny silver blade in his opposite hand.

  Gwen struggled for breath as images of her attack flashed through her mind. The scar along her side burned as she recalled the feeling of it plunged into her flesh. Desperation clawed at her throat and chest as she fell through time, suddenly present in the moments that had changed everything.

  Lucas marched back onto the trail, indignant, describing their location to Detective Anderson while Gwen worked to stay conscious.

  The psycho had packed a bag of snacks to pass the time while he watched her run.

  And a massive knife to kill her.

  She leaned forward at the waist and braced her palms against her knees, feeling the familiar wave of tension and fear take over. She pressed her eyelids shut, pulling herself into the present and forcing away the awful images. “Keep it together, Gwen,” she whispered to herself.

  Branches rumbled overhead as a mass of birds lifted from the treetops.

  And a hand clamped hard across her mouth.

  Another arm snaked around her center and hauled her back into the trees. The sharp point of a knife pressed strategically against her throat.

  Chapter Ten

  Lucas moved in long strides through the woods toward the hike-and-bike trail, trying to improve the cell signal and locate the nearest post with a mile marker to pinpoint their location. “We’re at mile eighteen,” he told Detective Anderson. “Send a crime scene team in an unmarked car. We want to get the job done without the fanfare of a lights and sirens parade. Especially if he’s watching. Even if he’s not, Gwen’s struggling. I want to get her out of here as soon as possible.”

  The hair on Lucas’s arms rose with a change in the air as he pivoted back in the direction he’d come. The trees rattled with a sudden mass exodus of birds, and his gut clenched.

  His feet were in motion before he’d made the conscious effort to run. “Gwen?” he called, hoping his instincts were wrong, praying his nerves were just frayed. That she was safe where he’d left her, only a few yards away. “Gwen!”

  “What’s happening?” Detective Anderson demanded, her voice exploding from the phone he’d nearly forgotten he was holding.

  He burst back through the trees and spotted Gwen immediately. A man in a ghillie suit stood behind her, one hand covering her mouth, the opposite arm snaked around her middle, just below her ribs, a large hunting knife in his fist. The fabric of his camouflage blended seamlessly with the surroundings, and Lucas couldn’t help wondering just how close the man had been when Lucas had run off, distracted by a need to report his findings. How close had the attacker been when Lucas left her alone and in danger?

  “Stop!” Lucas screamed, storming forward as he pressed the phone more tightly to his ear. “He’s here. He’s got her. I need backup. Now!” He plunged the phone into his jacket pocket, then unholstered his sidearm.

  They were moving toward the road on the other side of the trees.

  Gwen’s eyes were wide with terror as the assailant dragged her backward. Her hands clutched at his arms, and she winced each time they stumbled over fallen saplings and branches.

  A spot of blood spread through her jacket below the blade now glinting in the afternoon sunlight. The same blade that Lucas had just dumped from the bag and left on the forest floor to be used against her.

  “Take another step, and I will shoot you,�
� he promised, advancing steadily on the much slower pair. “I won’t let you hurt her again.”

  The assailant looked over his shoulder, his face covered with layers of fringed camouflaged material and a thin black balaclava, revealing only his crazed eyes. The elaborate suit made him seem more like a ghost than a man. He was taller than Gwen by several inches, though hunched; it was difficult to guess with any precision. His shoulders were broader, arms and legs longer, and the boots he wore left an occasional imprint deep in the ground.

  Lucas grinned. The man was armed, but he was no match for Lucas’s marksmanship. All he needed was one clear shot.

  Traffic sounds grew louder with each step, the busy road beyond the dense patch of forest drawing nearer.

  “Stop!” Lucas called again, mind reeling, assessing, troubleshooting. Did this guy have a plan beyond snatch-and-grab? Did he leave a getaway car nearby? Parked along the winding road into the little lot, perhaps? Or parked along the busy street? Ready to help them vanish.

  Lucas lengthened his strides, pushing forward, refusing to lose her again. “You’re running out of forest,” he warned, letting a sneer work over his deceptively cool face.

  “Stay back,” the would-be abductor called, his voice unnaturally low.

  Disguised, Lucas realized.

  “Stop moving or I’ll gut her,” he seethed, dragging the blade into position beneath her sternum.

  Lucas’s steps stuttered, and bile rose in his throat.

  Gwen’s eyes fluttered shut as they breached the wooded area and stepped into the blinding afternoon sunlight along the road.

  Her attacker moved the knife again, seeking better purchase on her frame and turning them away from the streaming cars. The layers of the ghillie suit lifted and fluttered on the breeze. “Stay back!” he screamed, voice frantic as he looked in every direction. Exposed to a hundred commuters, some who were now slowing at the sight of him holding a captive at knifepoint. He whipped his face in the direction of distant sirens rising into the sky.