All the Pretty Faces (30 page)

Dane met the young woman’s gaze through the crowd, his pulse hammering. He wanted to respond yes, but he couldn’t lie. “At this point, no. I promise you that as soon as more information is available, we will inform the public.”

Corbin Michaels eased his way to the front of the group. “Why would a plastic surgeon deface women when he spends his life enhancing their looks?”

Dane slanted the reporter an irritated look. He’d agreed to give him an exclusive, but Michaels had violated his trust when he’d printed the story this morning.

“We’re still working on establishing motive,” Dane said.

Michaels pressed on. “If Dr. Grimley is the Butcher, what triggered his desire to kill now?”

Betsy’s sweet face materialized, making Dane’s gut churn. “A psych evaluation will reveal more about him and provide insight into his mental state.”

Hands shot up with more questions, the crowd murmuring amongst themselves.

Dane gestured for the sheriff to take over, and he jogged down the steps of the stage and headed straight toward Michaels.

When he reached the reporter, he motioned for him to step aside. “Where the hell did you get your information about the arrest?”

Michaels gave him a cocky look. “I can’t reveal my source.”

Michaels had previously received a text from the killer. Grimley was in custody last night, and his phone had been confiscated—he hadn’t divulged anything to Michaels.

Dane jerked him by the collar of his white shirt. “Tell me the damn truth.”

Michaels lifted his chin. “I received an anonymous text. Just two words—
Butcher arrested
.”

“Listen to me, Michaels, if you’ve been holding back pertinent information that could have helped us solve this case and save the victims and I find out, you’re going down.”

Michaels reared his head back in defense. “If I’d known who the killer was, I would have come forward.”

Dane locked stubborn stares with the man, still unsure if he could trust him. The first text Michaels received had come from Grimley’s phone. He’d have tech trace this one. One of the deputies could have given Michaels the tip.

His phone buzzed.

Josie.

Hoping Grimley had confessed to all the murders, he strode toward the parking lot as he called her.

He smiled from the edge of the crowd. That agent was convinced that Silas Grimley and Eddie Easton were responsible for the butchered girls.

Good.

Except now the killing would have to stop.

That would be hard to do.

There were so many other women out there who needed to be punished. To be exposed for the ugliness beneath. For looking at him as if he didn’t belong.

Jail was not an option. Neither was getting caught.

Besides, watching the plastic surgeon and the photographer rot in prison gave him great joy.

Not as much as watching the girls scream and seeing their blood spurt, but it would do.

At least for now.

Once the dust settled, he could find a new hunting ground.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Josie dreaded this conversation with Dane, but she had to be honest. Another woman’s life might depend on it. “I understand you need closure for your sister’s death, and Grimley admits to her murder. It definitely was a crime of passion. He reacted out of anger. But these other murders, they were planned.”

“He evolved,” Dane said tightly. “He whetted his appetite for blood with Betsy.”

“He doesn’t behave like an attention-seeking killer. He actually seems to have remorse for stabbing your sister.”

“Remorse doesn’t bring my sister back,” Dane said, bitterness sharpening his tone.

Josie tensed. She understood his anger and wanted to help. “He’s going to prison for the rest of his life for your sister’s murder, so why not confess to the others?”

“Listen, Josie. We have the right man. Grimley is a sick bastard who killed Betsy and those other women, so don’t stir up some kind of excuse to get him off.”

A tense heartbeat passed before she responded. Could Dane’s emotions be clouding his judgment?

“That’s not what I’m doing,” Josie said, biting back a retort. “I want the truth, Dane, and I’m not sure we have it.”

“What? Grimley isn’t enough of a story for you?” His sigh of disgust echoed over the line.

Josie winced and started to explain, but he cut her off.

“We have his scalpels, the same type that he used to carve the victims’ faces. He also had pictures of the victims and modeled his surgeries by that damn Mitzi doll.” He paused for a breath, then continued. “You read that blog. Those stories describe exactly what he did.”

“That’s just it,” Josie said, desperate to get through to him. “He told me he didn’t write those last two entries, and I think he’s telling the truth. They were different, the language, the flow, the syntax—”

“Stop it,” Dane said. “You are not going to mess up this arrest, Josie. I’ve been waiting years for justice, and I won’t let anyone interfere. Especially you.”

Hurt swelled in Josie’s chest. Last night she’d thought they were close. She trusted him and thought he trusted her.

That he might even have feelings for her.

“I understand you’re upset,” she said, pushing her hurt aside, “and you want to blame everything on him, but he told me about this lawsuit against him, about this patient he accidentally scarred. He said she hates him, that she might be behind this.”

“Of course he’s going to offer up another suspect,” Dane said, “he wants to get off.”

“But—”

He cut her off again. “Think about it, Josie. Why did he ask to speak to you instead of me or the sheriff? He knows you’re soft, that you’re emotional.” His voice turned harsh, cutting her to the bone. “He thinks he can charm his way into your good graces so you’ll believe him just like you believed Billy Linder was an okay guy.”

The breath whooshed from Josie’s lungs. His comment played to every insecurity she’d ever had.

That she was a fool, that it was her fault that she’d been abducted, that she had poor judgment when it came to men.

That maybe she wasn’t smart enough to do her job . . .

“Go to hell, Dane. You do your job. I’m going to see if there’s any truth to his statement.” Josie didn’t wait for a response. She disconnected the call.

His words taunted her, though, resurrecting her doubts. She dropped her head into her hands for a minute, grappling for control.

What a fool she’d been to believe that Dane might care for her. Last night had been about sex on his part. Yes, she’d fantasized about more, that it meant something to him.

She couldn’t—wouldn’t—make that mistake again.

She would accept that Dane didn’t love her and pursue what Dr. Grimley had told her.

The truth was more important than her pride.

If someone had framed Grimley, the women in Graveyard Falls were still in danger, and she was obligated to uncover the truth. If she didn’t figure out the killer’s identity, another woman might be carved up just like the others.

She couldn’t live with that.

Dane pinched the bridge of his nose as he settled into his vehicle. He needed to question Easton again.

He’d push Grimley until he confessed to the other murders.

Josie’s voice taunted him, though. She believed Grimley had been framed.

But the bastard had confessed to murdering Betsy.

Damn Josie for making him doubt himself. He was good at his job. She was emotional.

So are you, especially about your sister.

He dropped his hand to his lap. Good God.

Was he right? Had the man charmed her into trusting him?

Or had he lost his objectivity? Was there some truth to Grimley’s statement?

The fact that the doctor was being sued didn’t sit well. That patient might be bitter enough to frame him.

Fuck.

He didn’t
want
there to be anyone else involved. He wanted to wrap up this damn case, charge Grimley for all the murders, find out if Easton was involved, and leave town before he fell too hard for Josie.

You already have.

No, he couldn’t be in love with her. Caring about someone was too dangerous. He’d already lost too many people he loved to open himself up to that kind of pain again.

His phone buzzed.

Loving Arms
.

Seeing the number for the nursing care facility where his mother was staying on the display box, he quickly connected the call. “Agent Hamrick.” He held his breath, praying his mother hadn’t taken a turn for the worse.

“Agent Hamrick, you don’t know me, but my name is Ellie. I’m a friend of Paula’s.”

Dane tensed, trying to place her. Was she another nurse? “What’s happened? Is she all right?”

“Yes, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to alarm you. She and I had a nice visit this morning.”

“What?” Maybe she was a volunteer. “Who are you again?”

“My name is Ellie. I’m in the room down the hall from your mom. Paula and I struck up a friendship the last few days.”

The truth dawned. “Yes, the nurse told me about you.”

“Good. I need to see you right away. It’s important. It’s about your sister’s death and the Butcher case.”

Dane’s pulse jumped. How did this woman know about that? From the news? “Excuse me?”

“Just stop by Loving Arms please.”

“I’ll be there as soon as possible.” Dane hung up, then spun the vehicle toward the nursing home, curious to see if this woman had information about the case. A thread of fear wormed its way through him, though. What if Josie was right and Grimley wasn’t guilty of all the murders and the killer came after his mother?

Suspicions ate at him. He knew nothing about this stranger who’d suddenly come into his mother’s life.

A few minutes later, he parked and hurried inside. The attendant at the front nurses’ station directed him to Ellie’s room. As he walked down the hallway, the scent of cleaning chemicals and medicine filled the air.

Precious met him in the hall. “Hi, Agent Hamrick.”

“How’s my mother?”

“Actually, her therapist is strolling her outside. She seems more relaxed since your last visit. Almost as if she’s slowly coming back to us.”

Hope budded in Dane’s chest. Maybe his mother was turning a corner for the good.

“Precious, tell me about this lady, Ellie, who made friends with my mother.”

Precious smiled. “Miss Ellie is a little odd, but she’s a sweetheart. I think she’s really helping Paula.”

Dane relaxed slightly. He thanked her and headed to Ellie’s room. It was two doors from his mother’s. He knocked and a voice called for him to come in. The room was darker than his mother’s, but otherwise held the same type of hospitalic bed, two chairs near the window, a small TV.

A frail-looking gray-haired lady sat in one of the chairs, her face in the shadows as she stared out the window. She turned slightly as he entered. “Agent Hamrick.”

“Yes.”

She patted the chair beside her. “Come in. We have to talk.”

As he walked over to her, he scrutinized the way her delicate hands worked, clicking knitting needles together as she spun what looked like a baby blanket from yarn. He didn’t know what he’d expected, maybe for her to have pictures of the dead girls, but he was surprised.

When he sat down and she faced him, her eyes were glazed.

She was blind.

How in the world had she befriended his mother when she couldn’t see and his mother didn’t speak?

He trusted Precious’s opinion enough to hear her out, so he claimed the chair and then cleared his throat. “You said you have information for me?”

“Yes.” Tension thickened the air as she paused in her knitting. “I heard you arrested Silas Grimley for your sister’s murder.”

Dane curled his fingers around the arm of the chair. “Yes.”

“I knew Silas when he was young,” Ellie said, surprising him. “I was the housemother in the group home where he lived after he was removed from his father’s care.”

Dane let the silence stand. He didn’t want to hear some sob story about the young boy Silas.

Silas had stolen too much from his family and him.

Besides, there were a lot of people who suffered trauma in their lives who didn’t use their past as an excuse for violence against others. Josie was the perfect example. She used her ordeal to help others.

Regret for the way he’d talked to Josie engulfed him, but Ellie laid a frail hand over his, and he focused on her. “Agent Hamrick, I understand the hate in your heart, but please hear me out. Silas was a troubled kid, abused and scarred so badly that he lived in his own world of hurt and shame.”

“If you want me to feel sorry for him or go easy on him, this visit is over.” He started to stand, but she gripped his hand with gnarled fingers.

“Please don’t leave yet. I understand your anger and your mother’s.”

Again, Dane waited.

“I’m so sorry for what happened, for Silas and what he did to your sister. I never forgave myself for that.”

Shock bolted through Dane. Anger followed. “You knew he killed her and covered for him?”

She hesitated. “I didn’t know, not at first. Later, I had visions and saw him. He was out of his mind when it happened.”

She must be a nutcase. “What do you mean, you had visions?”

“This probably sounds crazy to you, but after I lost my sight, my other senses became stronger. Sometimes I have premonitions or see things, things that are happening. Just the way I saw into your mother’s mind and realized she needed a friend. Someone to share her pain with. That’s when I started visiting her.”

“If you knew Grimley murdered Betsy, why didn’t you come forward?”

Ellie wiped at a tear with her arthritic hand. “Because I loved Silas. He was torn up about what he did. He needed guidance, and if I’d turned him in, he’d have gone to prison, and he’d never have amounted to anything.”

“Do you realize that by allowing a killer to go free, you endangered other women’s lives?” Dane asked in an incredulous voice. “My sister had a future and was a good person. She wanted to help people. For God’s sake, she tried to help
him
.”

She pressed a hand over her chest. “Maybe I should have told, but I thought Silas needed a chance. He’d already suffered so much.” She reached for his hand again, but he pulled back.

“My sister suffered,” Dane said through clenched teeth. “My mother suffered and still is.”

“I know. I feel her pain. I wish I could change the past, but it’s too late. I have been a friend to your mother, though, and I’m helping her work through her grief.”

“She wouldn’t have suffered if you’d done the right thing and turned Grimley in when you first suspected he was dangerous.” Dane curled his hands into fists. How dare this lady pretend to be his mother’s friend when she should have come forward years ago. Now three more women’s deaths were on her head.

“I know what you’re thinking, that those other women wouldn’t have died if I’d turned Silas in,” she said, as if she’d read his mind. “That’s the reason I have to do the right thing now.”

“The right thing?”

“Yes, please hear me out. Silas is not a serial killer,” Ellie said, her voice growing stronger. “He didn’t murder those women in Graveyard Falls.”

Dane barely controlled his animosity. “Yes, he did. He started with my sister. No, his first kill was actually his father.”

The woman set her knitting aside. “He didn’t kill his father.”

“How do you know?”

She angled her head, and even though she was blind, Dane sensed she could see him, that she was watching his reaction. “Because I did.”

Dane simply stared at her. She was slight in size, five-two, at the most a hundred and ten pounds. “You killed him? How did you overpower him?”

“I had a shotgun,” she said as if relaying a story she’d heard somewhere else, one that didn’t involve her. “When I realized Silas’s daddy was abusing him, I tried to convince him to relinquish custody of Silas to me and get help for himself. He refused. After a while, the court decided to put Silas back in that home to be tormented all over again. I couldn’t stand the thought of that kid being hurt anymore.”

“You didn’t want to go to jail yourself,” Dane said, his voice accusatory. “That’s the reason you didn’t tell the police about Silas.”