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Page 9


  “Which is something I definitely don’t need. This case is all-consuming enough.” She paused as she listened to movie music swell in the theater beneath them. “I take it we’re finished? Do you need anything else from me?

  “Photographs. I want the most gruesome pics you have from murder scenes in each of the cities.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “No. Trust me, it isn’t for my own sick pleasure. But it will be helpful to me.”

  “Okay. I’ll email you some before I get on the road. Anything else?”

  Jessie was pushing her out the door. “I’d like shots of the rope impressions you were telling me about.”

  “Done. They’ll be in your inbox within the next few minutes.” She watched Jessie lock the office door. “Any idea when I’ll hear back from you?”

  Jessie slung the knapsack over her shoulder. “No idea. I’m going to see someone about it right now. I’ll let you know.” She pointed her finger at her. “Remember. The most gruesome crime scene pics you have. It’s important.”

  “I told you that I’d—”

  But Jessie held up her hand and was answering her phone. “Dee’s home, Colin? Good. Talk to you later. I’ll be in touch.” She cut the connection. “What were you saying, Kendra?”

  “Nothing important.” She was smiling. “Do you always check up on people who aren’t even your clients?”

  She shrugged. “What can I say? I set up Dee’s security with Colin Parks when I quit my job with her. She likes to feel like she can slip away and have her personal time. God knows, she has precious little freedom. So I told Colin to let her think she was getting away with it.” Her lips twisted wryly. “She doesn’t, of course; security with a celebrity has to be 24/7. But what she doesn’t know makes her happy. Nothing wrong with that. Whenever she comes here, I just have Colin make certain to tell me when she gets home safely.”

  “No, nothing wrong with that,” Kendra said solemnly. “Even to a tough nut like you, Jessie.”

  “Knock it off.” Jessie was heading down the stairs. “And send me those photos.”

  She had already roared off on her motorcycle by the time Kendra reached her car. Typical Jessie reaction and response, she thought as she got back on the road. Once the decision was made and that sharp brain in high gear, she’d waste no time in starting the search. And evidently she already had a few ideas about how that search should go.

  Relief. After all the frustration and fear that Kendra had been experiencing, it was good to know that she had Jessie in her corner. It was all very well to have Griffin and all those other agents to tap, but Jessie was a friend. She could talk to her, she didn’t have to pretend that she was invulnerable. Jessie understood people and would always help without judging.

  Well, almost, she qualified. Jessie had certainly inserted her opinion about bringing Lynch into the picture to help. But so had everyone else in her circle, she thought sourly. Lynch might be thousands of miles away, but he was clearly sending out vibes to one and all. It was disturbing that the minute she’d been pulled into the search for this monster everyone around her had tried to get her to contact Lynch. Disturbing and upsetting. She was fully capable of taking care of her own business without him. Why couldn’t everyone see that? Particularly Jessie, who was the most independent woman Kendra knew.

  But then Jessie had been arguing principally about sex, not that Lynch was absolutely essential to the investigation. And she had dropped the argument immediately when she had become interested in taking on the investigation herself.

  Kendra doubted if Jessie would even mention Lynch from now on. They both would be too busy working leads and trying to find out where they would take them.

  She felt again that rush of warmth at the thought. It was going to be good to have Jessie on the case. It would be comforting to have a friend to help ward off the terrible coldness this killer exuded and keep it from smothering them.

  Was there anything in the world more important than a good friend?

  * * *

  NICE PLACE, ZACHARY THOUGHT.

  He stood in the center of the downtown condominium, glancing around at the living room that had been repurposed as a home office. Sad how work had been allowed to intrude on the sanctity of the home these days.

  So much had changed in the years since he’d begun his dangerous and fascinating hobby. Now there were WiFi-connected security cameras all over the place, mounted on the underside of roofs, on windowsills, on automobile dashboards. Traffic and ATM cams were everywhere. DNA evidence retrieval had gotten so refined that he could get a death sentence for breathing on a window. It was almost impossible to move through any densely-populated urban area without leaving behind some type of incriminating footprint.

  Which made this game more exciting than ever.

  He flexed his gloved fingers as he paced around the condo. Everything was impeccably neat and well-organized here, just as he expected it to be. After all, it was the home of a blind person.

  He’d done his research on Olivia Moore, and although time constraints had curtailed his penchant for in-depth study, he felt he knew whom he was dealing with. She was somewhat of a public figure with her remarkable Web site and its worldwide following. He’d watched over a dozen interviews with her on YouTube, most of them recorded in this very room.

  Impressive young lady.

  He glanced at the modernist paintings on the walls. Strange. Why were they even here? For visitors, he guessed. Maybe her best friend had chosen them for her. If so, Kendra Michaels had excellent taste.

  Enough sightseeing. It was time to—

  He froze.

  Footsteps.

  In the hall coming toward the door.

  Surely it was just a passing neighbor. Olivia wasn’t due back for hours.

  The footsteps drew closer.

  It couldn’t be …

  Olivia had two appointments today and she shouldn’t be back for hours. Unless …

  A key slid into the lock.

  … unless there had been a change in plans.

  In one lightning-fast motion, he unsnapped the leather sheath beneath his jacket and slid out his long blade.

  The deadbolt lock clicked and the knob turned …

  He held up his knife. He hadn’t planned to kill today, but he might have to improvise.

  Just like in Connecticut. Just like in Oxnard.

  He could do it again.

  The door swung open. It was Olivia and she was alone. She moved toward her oval wraparound desk and opened a drawer.

  Zachary didn’t breathe.

  He stood only five feet from her. One rustle of fabric, one bone creak, one stomach growl, and it was all over. She’d know he was there and he’d have to kill her.

  But what if she smelled him? His knowledge of Kendra Michaels had taught him how hyper-aware blind people could be of their surroundings. He hadn’t wanted to leave any trace of himself for Olivia to pick up, so he had bathed only with water, no shampoo or soap. He’d used no detergent when he washed his clothes.

  His precautions might not be enough.

  He watched her. She seemed to be in a rush as she pulled a USB flash drive and a telephone headset from the drawer. She was obviously still going to her second appointment of the day, a speech at a school for the blind in Oceanside. Maybe she’d forgotten something.

  She stopped.

  Uh oh.

  She slowly lifted her head and turned around. She kept turning until she faced him.

  He wanted to grip the knife tighter, but he knew he couldn’t, not as long as he wanted to make this work.

  Not a sound. Not a breath.

  She looked as if she was staring deep into his eyes.

  The effect unnerved him, although almost nothing ever made him feel that way. He felt a sudden urge to lunge across the desk and slice her throat, if only to stop the stare-down that wasn’t.

  Her head turned. She faced a different direction before finally picking up her i
tems and moving away from the desk.

  Good girl.

  She walked across the room and pulled open the front door. She stopped and turned around. Once again she turned toward him. After a long moment, she stepped away and locked the door behind her.

  Zachary finally let out the breath he’d been holding. He was relieved … and disappointed.

  Relieved he could now move forward with his plan, but disappointed he hadn’t been able to execute this bit of improvisation that had already quickened his pulse and given him a jolt that made life worth living.

  No matter. There were bigger jolts to come.

  He walked to Olivia’s desk, sat in the chair, and oriented himself with her computer system.

  He leaned forward and began to type.

  * * *

  KENDRA TURNED TOWARD THE assembled group of FBI agents and assistants. Were they buying it?

  She was in front of one of the massive bulletin boards in the FBI fourth floor war room. She’d begun by speaking only with Griffin, Metcalf, and Gina about her theory concerning the knot and the murders’ proximity to Naval bases, but as she spoke and moved between the push-pinned photos, her group of listeners grew until she was addressing everyone in the room.

  Now that she was finished, everyone seemed to be waiting for Griffin to respond before they weighed in.

  He finally nodded. “Interesting. It’s definitely worth exploring. I’ll reach out to NAB Coronado.” He glanced back at the group. “Though I’m disappointed someone here hadn’t come up with this yet.”

  With the boss’s stamp of approval in place, the rest of the group responded with enthusiasm. Kendra spoke with a few of them and answered questions before Metcalf approached her.

  He smiled. “Admit it, you like this work. At least a little, right?”

  The politics? The knowledge that there were beasts waiting around every corner? “I’ll like it when we catch this guy.”

  Griffin stepped up to her. “Good work. We’ll run this by the dream team.”

  “Who?”

  “All the investigators who were on the different cases are coming here from their respective cities. Two police detectives, an FBI agent, and a federal marshal.”

  “And a partridge in a pear tree,” Metcalf quipped.

  It didn’t seem to bother him that no one except Gina laughed.

  “Anyway,” Griffin continued after giving Metcalf a cold glance, “we all know how it feels to be haunted by a case we could never crack. For each of these people, this killer was one of those. They all want a piece of this investigation.”

  Kendra frowned. “It sounds a little cannibalistic. Couldn’t that get a bit…”

  “Unwieldly?” Griffin said. “Absolutely. But these are the best and brightest serial killer investigators in the country. They could give us real insight into this guy.”

  Insight into the soul of a monster? “We may get more than we bargain for. When do they arrive?” Kendra asked.

  “A couple of them are already on their way. I expect to see them all here by tonight or early tomorrow.” Griffin lowered his voice. “I know one of them. Richard Gale. He works for the Bureau out of NYC. Not what you’d call a people person. A real son of a bitch, actually. But in the last twenty years, he’s helped catch some of the Northeast’s most high-profile serial killers. It’s almost spooky how good he is.”

  Metcalf and Gina looked at each other and nodded. “Gale is the real deal,” Metcalf said. “His cases are on the study list at Quantico.”

  “The others are just as impressive,” Griffin said. “You’ll meet them all soon enough.”

  Kendra’s phone blared from her pocket with a ringtone of the “Ooga-Chaka” intro from Blue Suede’s “Hooked on a Feeling.”

  Metcalf’s brows rose. “Really?”

  Kendra reached into her pocket. “That’s Olivia’s ringtone. I let her pick her own and that’s just her way of driving me crazy.” Kendra answered the phone. “Olivia, I’ll call you back. I’m in the middle of—”

  “Kendra, don’t you hang up.”

  Kendra stiffened. Something was wrong. She had never heard Olivia’s voice that hollow and frightened.

  “Olivia…?”

  “He was here.”

  “Who?”

  A long moment of silence, then jagged breathing.

  “Olivia? Are you okay?”

  “Yes. I’m just … a little freaked.”

  “Who was there, Olivia?”

  “That … killer. The one you’re looking for. You need to get over here right now. He left you a message.”

  CHAPTER

  6

  KENDRA, METCALF, AND GINA bolted out of the FBI office and raced to Olivia’s condo, paying only passing deference to the rules of the road. Kendra frantically rapped on the door before using her own key to unlock it and enter.

  “Olivia?”

  “Over here.” Olivia was in her kitchen, leaning against the counter. She was pale and shaken as she turned to face Kendra. “God, I’m glad you’re here.”

  Kendra ran toward her. “We broke every speed limit. This is crazy.” She grabbed Olivia’s arms. “I’m so sorry. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Well, I’m no longer freaked,” she said unsteadily. “I’ve made a graceful transition to royally pissed off.”

  Kendra felt a surge of relief. “That’s the Olivia I know.”

  “That’s perfectly natural, ma’am. Shock can do that to you.” Gina was already in full investigative mode as she moved into the condo and glanced around. “I’m FBI Special Agent Gina Carson and I’m here with Special Agent Roland Metcalf.”

  “Hi. And yes, I recognized his footsteps. Hi, Metcalf.”

  Gina paused for a moment as she realized that Olivia was blind. Kendra hadn’t mentioned it to her.

  Metcalf smiled. “Hi, Olivia. You’ve created quite a stir. Do you want to tell us what happened?”

  “Sure.” Olivia took a deep breath as she stepped from the kitchen into the living area. “I was out during the morning and early afternoon, but when I got home, I noticed that my desk chair was slightly out of place.”

  Gina moved toward the U-shaped desk. “Like how?”

  “I always slide it in when I walk away from the desk. Otherwise it gets in the way if I want to look for something in one of the drawers. When I came home, the chair was pulled out and angled slightly to the right. Then I noticed my keyboard was tilted in a way I would never use it. I realized someone had moved it.”

  “You said he left you a message?” Kendra said.

  “I said he left you a message.” Olivia moved closer to her monitor and keyboard. “There was a Word file open. I knew it wasn’t one of mine. So I used a text-to-speech app to read it to me. It sounded like … this.

  Kendra pressed her keyboard’s spacebar and the vaguely robotic voice spoke.

  “Hello, Sweet Capable Olivia … Please pass this along to your friend Kendra. My name is Zachary and I’m under the distinct impression that she would very much like to meet me…”

  Kendra couldn’t breathe. Although the text-to-speech app did a decent job bringing words to life, the slight mechanized quality was making the message even creepier than it already was.

  It continued, “All in good time, dear Kendra. But you’re no doubt wondering what brought me to your fair city. The answer is you, my dear. I’ve spent years weaving yards of beautiful ribbon and I needed the right person to help me pull it all together in a perfect bow. And that person is you. Flattered? You should be. It’s been a long search…”

  Kendra mouth went dry. This couldn’t be happening …

  “To celebrate our new partnership, please accept these few tokens of my esteem … Good luck, Kendra. I look forward to meeting you.”

  The message ended.

  Kendra looked down to Olivia’s desk. Neatly lined up along the top edge of her keyboard were four driver’s licenses.

  Metcalf leaned over to examine them. “One from Con
necticut, one from California, one from Virginia, one from Florida.”

  “More souvenirs from the victims?” Gina asked.

  “Yes,” Kendra said with a shudder. “I recognize the faces from your crime scene photos.”

  Olivia crossed her arms in front of her. “He was here.”

  Kendra put a hand on Olivia’s forearm and felt her trembling. “Olivia…”

  “Sitting on my chair, typing on my keyboard,” Olivia said shakily. “I feel … violated. This is my place, my world. I can’t believe it.”

  “At least you weren’t here,” Metcalf said quietly.

  “No? That’s just it,” Olivia said. “I think I was.”

  Shock on shock. Kendra looked at her. “What?”

  “I’m pretty sure I was here when he was.” Olivia didn’t look quite as defiant as she had before. Fear had clearly returned. “I stopped by to get some materials for a presentation. Something didn’t feel right.” She turned to Kendra. “You know how it is in a place you’re really familiar with, like your own home? When something—or somebody—is out of place, or there when they shouldn’t be, you can feel it. The acoustics are different, the air moves differently. I had a strange feeling when I was in here before, but I talked myself into believing that the TV crew had rearranged something I didn’t catch, and that’s what it was.” Olivia shook her head. “But now I don’t think so. He was here, watching me. He could have killed me just as easily as he killed those three other people…”

  Kendra decided not to tell her that the count was now at least twenty-six. “That’s not what he wanted to do,” she said. “He wanted to make me afraid. Afraid for you and all the other people in my life. I’m the one he’s targeted.”

  “No,” Olivia said harshly. “He needs you alive to play his sick game. Everyone else is expendable.”

  Kendra couldn’t argue with that. She was too confused and terrified to be able to analyze anything to do with what had happened today. She was terribly afraid that Olivia might be right.

  “We need to clear out of here,” Metcalf said. “I have an Evidence Response Team on the way.”

 

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