All the Pretty Faces (25 page)

“Yeah. Maybe she was more of a fighter, and he had to tie her up.”

Dane strode over to talk to the sheriff. “It’s time to bring Dr. Grimley in.” Dane filled him in on the man’s background and the details he’d uncovered.

“I’ll issue a BOLO and alert bus and train stations as well as airports. Two deputies are canvassing the crowd to see if anyone saw anything.”

“Good. Keep me posted.” Dane quickly phoned Peyton. “I need a search warrant for Dr. Grimley’s car and belongings.”

“I’m on it.”

“Did you find out the whereabouts of that guy Leroy Weaver?”

“Yeah, he’s been in a rehab facility for the past three weeks. Nearly died of an overdose and family committed him.”

Dane hung up. So Weaver hadn’t found Neesie.

Cynthia, the owner of the inn, stood by the casting director, one hand fluttering across her chest as if she felt faint. Josie had joined Olive, who looked shell-shocked.

Dane slipped up beside Josie and squeezed her arm. She gave him a grateful look, which compounded his guilt. He should have stopped this guy by now.

His gut tight, he resorted to business. He was much better at that than personal relations. “Ms. Turnstyle, you found the body?” Dane asked.

Her hand trembled as she adjusted her glasses. “Yes, when I arrived and was going inside, I heard a noise.”

“She was still alive?” Dane asked, confused.

Olive shook her head. “No, I’m afraid not. It was just a cat.”

“There’s a stray that hangs around,” Cynthia said. “I leave out food for it on the back stoop.”

“Anyway, it sounded like the cat was injured and it was in the bushes, so I ran over to look for it.” A tear rolled down Olive’s face, and Josie put her arm around her to comfort her. “I saw her legs poking out of the bushes,” Olive finished.

“This is just horrible,” Cynthia murmured as she gaped at the scene. “I can’t believe someone left that poor girl out here.”

“Did you see anything?” Dane asked the innkeeper.

Cynthia shook her head. “No. I was inside tidying up the rooms and chatting with a couple of the other girls. Everyone’s been so upset about these murders that I hold a nightly prayer session for the guests who want to pray with me.”

Dane glanced back at Olive. “Did you notice anyone lurking around when you arrived?”

Olive shook her head. “No. I’m so sorry, I wish I could be more helpful.”

“You’re doing great,” Josie assured her.

Olive rubbed two fingers to her temple. “I told you earlier Neesie was supposed to come for a callback and never showed. Now I understand the reason.”

The panic Josie had felt earlier mixed with regret. “I know, I’m so sorry. I wish I could have done something to save her. She seemed like such a sweet girl.”

“She was.” Olive cleared her throat, pulling herself together. “Under the circumstances, I’m going to talk to the director and request that we postpone this film. I can’t stand to see anyone else hurt because our crew is here.”

Josie nodded. “I think that’s a good idea.”

Dane didn’t know how to respond.

Yonkers came to mind. If someone had wanted to run the film crew out of town, they’d succeeded. But the brutality of the crime indicated a stronger motive, a pathology that had nothing to do with something as simple as stopping a movie production.

If he wanted to kill again, he would find another victim.

Dane scanned the people huddled around the house and crime scene.

Was the killer standing in the crowd, watching the town and police scurry around in shock and fear at his latest kill?

The killer was focused on Josie. Would she be his next target?

Cold fear washed over him at the thought. He was lying to himself if he said he didn’t care about Josie.

He cared too damn much.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Wind hurled debris and leaves across the road as Dane drove Josie home. Dread knotted every muscle in her body.

Would she find another butchered Mitzi doll at her house?

It was probably best they were shutting down the film project. At least temporarily. The mood in the town and among the actors and film crew had definitely grown somber.

Dane parked, and they walked to her porch together, both as desolate as the gray skies. Josie froze and clutched his arm. “Oh God, Dane. Look, another doll.”

Dane cursed and tenderly squeezed her arm. “We will get him,” Dane said in a comforting tone.

Josie sighed. Yes, but when? And how many more had to die?

She had to focus on the details. This time the doll lay on the porch, its butchered face taunting her with blood. The blood on the other dolls had been the victims’.

She shivered. This was probably Neesie’s blood. “Easton didn’t do this,” she said in a raw whisper. “He’s in custody.”

“We can’t be sure,” Dane said. “We’ve been gone all day. He could have watched and dropped it off as soon as you left earlier.”

Josie leaned against him, surprising him. “That’s true, I guess.”

“The killer must be shaken up.” Dane clenched her hand for a moment, lingering as if he wanted her to know he was on her side. “The fact that he didn’t take the time to break in means he was in a hurry.”

Disappointment tugged at Josie when Dane released her hand. She wanted to hang on to him and let him keep her grounded. Safe.

Guilt returned on its heels, reminding her that she had to keep working and help Dane.

“If Easton and Grimley are partners, Grimley could have left it to throw us off.”

Josie nodded, although despair and frustration made her chest ache. “If he thinks we’re closing in on him, he might run.”

“I don’t think so. He likes the game too much.” Dane gestured toward the dark house. “Let me check inside in case he wanted to fake you out by leaving the doll outside.”

Josie stiffened at the thought. Dane drew his gun and opened the door. The house was quiet, the windows rattling from the wind, a tree limb scraping the glass panes somewhere in back. Storm clouds shifted and moved, making the sky even more gray and dreary.

Dane slowly crept inside, and she followed on his heels. She glanced in the kitchen and living area, but nothing seemed amiss.

Bile rose to her throat when they stopped at the doorway to her bedroom. Dane had been wrong.

The Butcher had been inside.

Blood was smeared across her white comforter in the jagged lines of a claw mark, just as it had been smeared on Neesie’s face.

Dane phoned Lieutenant Ward and asked him to send another crime team to Josie’s house. He hated this bastard for toying with her. Josie didn’t deserve this.

She looked pale and fragile as they watched the two investigators search the house and dust for fingerprints. The bloody comforter and doll went into a bag for analysis.

“Grab a few things, Josie,” Dane told her. “You aren’t staying here tonight.”

Josie frowned at him for a second, then nodded without arguing, a sign she was frightened.

She gathered her toiletries and tossed some extra clothes into an overnight bag.

Dane’s phone buzzed as they headed to his SUV.

“It’s Sheriff Kimball, Agent Hamrick. Knoxville airport security spotted Grimley buying a ticket to Mexico.”

Dane’s pulse jumped. “Tell them not to let him board that flight. I’ll be there ASAP.” He ended the call and relayed the news to Josie.

Josie clutched her purse strap. “So he’s running?”

“I must have been wrong. It appears he is. He probably found out we detained Easton and knew we were close to making an arrest.”

Josie sank into the seat and fastened her seatbelt. “I’m surprised he’d leave Easton to take the fall.”

“He was locked in a cage as a kid. He’s probably terrified of being locked away again.”

Sympathy registered on Josie’s face. Dane had none, not for a cold-blooded man who carved up women’s faces for fun.

Adrenaline pumping, Dane sped toward the airport, cursing at the traffic as he veered onto the interstate leading to Knoxville. He blinked against the glare of lights—weaving in and out of traffic and passing the slower cars, his siren roaring.

Josie clutched the door handle, unusually quiet.

Dane rubbed her shoulder. “You okay?”

“As all right as I can be with another death on my conscience.” Josie twisted her hands together. “I feel so helpless. Like I should have done more.”

“That’s the story of my life, Josie. But you’re not at fault here, so stop blaming yourself.” Although he, of all people, understood guilt. “You didn’t have anything to do with this psycho or his crimes.”

“Logically I know that,” Josie said. “But he’s sending me those pictures. Do you think he wants to punish me for writing about the Bride Killer?”

Dane gritted his teeth in frustration. “He’s demented. He takes some kind of sick pleasure in hurting women and taunting you. He wants you to make him famous like Billy Linder.”

Dane turned off the interstate and drove toward the airport. Siren wailing, he sped around traffic heading to the main terminal and parked in front of the building.

A policeman met him at his vehicle. “Sheriff Kimball phoned and explained the situation. I’ve alerted security throughout the airport.”

“You know where he is?”

“Yes, he’s waiting at the gate for his flight,” the officer said. “He has no idea we flagged him and that we’re holding the plane until you arrived.”

“Thanks.” Dane and Josie raced inside and met with an airport officer who led them through security and the crowded halls.

When they finally reached the gate, Dane spotted the plastic surgeon pacing by the window, his movements agitated, cell phone pressed to his ear. Dane motioned for the officer to stand back and guard the area, and two more security guards arrived as backup.

Dane kept his eyes trained on Grimley. The intercom blared with announcements for flights that were boarding. Grimley paced, his movements agitated as he kept checking his watch and the flight schedule.

“Stay here and out of sight. We don’t want to alert him that we’re here,” Dane told Josie. “If he runs, get out of his way and let the police handle it.”

Josie nodded and stepped into the corner of one of the airport stores. Dane silently thanked her. He was more concerned about her safety than anything else.

And that scared him. But he didn’t have time to analyze his reaction.

If Grimley panicked, he might try to take a hostage, and he didn’t intend for Josie to get caught in the middle.

Dane cut through the crowd, keeping his head low and Grimley in sight. He needed to get closer before he charged the man.

Anxiety knotted his shoulders. A family of four elbowed their way through to the gate in need of seats, and a group of college kids appeared, laughing and hauling backpacks and fast food. An airline attendant pushed an elderly man in a wheelchair in front of him.

All slowing him down.

By the time Dane had cut through the throng, Grimley had spotted him. Instant panic flooded his face, and he shoved his phone in his pocket, abandoned his rolling bag, and took off running away from the gate.

“Dammit.” Dane motioned to the guards to cover the exits, and gave chase.

Grimley shoved a young woman and her baby out of the way. Dane caught the lady just before she stumbled and fell. He gently steadied her, then raised his badge and shouted for people to move.

Grimley jogged down the corridor past the food court, then jumped onto the escalator going toward the baggage claim and ground transportation. Dane broke into a sprint, waving the guards forward, one of whom was speaking into a mic on his lapel, alerting security to stop Grimley from leaving the airport.

More crowds piled onto the floor as a flight unloaded, and Dane shouted again to clear the area as he jogged down the escalator and raced after Grimley. The man paused at a restroom to glance back, saw Dane, and darted toward the exits.

Dane veered around a group of tourists gathering to catch a hotel van. Two officers stepped to the door to block Grimley from leaving.

Grimley screeched to a stop and frantically searched for another exit, but Dane caught up with him, jerked his arms behind him, and snapped handcuffs around his wrists.

“Dr. Silas Grimley, you are under arrest for the murders of Charity Snow, Patty Waxton, and Neesie Netherington.” Dane patted him down to make sure he wasn’t armed, but the man was clean.

“You can’t do this, I didn’t murder anyone.” Grimley swung his hands wildly. “I’m being set up!”

Dane clenched his jaw to keep from slamming the bastard against the wall. “Shut up, it’s over, you bastard.”

Then Dane shoved him through the exit to a police vehicle waiting to take him to jail.

Josie met Dane at his SUV.

“Where’s Grimley?” Josie asked when she saw the empty vehicle.

“The county police are transporting him to jail,” Dane said. “I wanted to search his luggage and car.”

Thank God Grimley hadn’t escaped. Maybe they’d get to the truth now.

Dane unlocked the SUV, his jaw tense. “Letting him sit and sweat in a cell for a while will be good for him. Maybe he’ll be ready to talk once I interrogate him.”

Knowing Dane, he wouldn’t be happy until he got a full-fledged confession.

Another officer appeared dragging a rolling suitcase, then settled it in front of Dane.

“Did your security team locate Grimley’s car?” Dane asked.

The officer spoke into his mic, then nodded. “Third level, extended parking.”

“Looks like he planned to be gone a long time.” Dane opened the trunk bed of his SUV, then pulled on latex gloves, set the luggage inside, and picked the lock.

Dane quickly rifled through the contents. Two designer suits, a pair of dress shoes, ties, a photo album. Dane glanced at her with a raised brow, then opened the photo book.

Her stomach clenched at the sight of the pictures—there were pages and pages of the actors who’d come to audition in Graveyard Falls.

Billy Linder had kept a Bride’s Book with photos of his victims, pictures taken after their death.

This book held headshots and photos of actresses in various situations depicting scenes from her book. Granted the scenes she’d written were dark, but they were based on fact. Seeing these reenactments suggested he was exploiting the story line for his own demented pleasure.

A sick feeling washed over her. Did Grimley have copies of the photos he’d sent her? Was he the Butcher?

“I’ll take everything to the lab,” Dane said as he closed the book.

Josie spotted something jammed in an inside pocket. “What’s that?”

Dane unzipped the compartment, then scowled. “A picture of Grimley and Easton together at the nature preserve.”

“You really think he and Easton are partners?” Josie asked.

“I don’t know,” Dane said. “Don’t you?”

Josie bit her lip. “I don’t know yet either. A lot of things point to them working together. And Grimley definitely fits the profile.”

Dane finished searching the suitcase and closed it. “Well, I intend to find out.”

He climbed in the driver’s seat and drove into the parking garage for extended parking. Grimley’s Mercedes was locked, so Dane retrieved a crowbar from his SUV and opened the passenger door. Josie stood back on pins and needles as he searched the interior. If they found the bones from the victims, they could seal the case against Grimley.

The dash and front seat held nothing important: insurance information, a couple of magazines on the latest plastic surgery techniques, and handouts from the conference he’d just attended.

Dane found the lever to unlock the trunk and popped it. A duffel bag had been stuffed inside.

When he opened it, Josie leaned forward to examine the contents. Gym clothes, underwear, extra dress shoes.

Dane dug deeper. Several scalpels were wrapped inside, tucked in a side pocket.

Along with a butchered Mitzi doll identical to the ones left with the victims.