Blind Witness (26 page)

Mark again touched her hand to keep her grounded. “It’s all right now. He can’t hurt you. You’re safe.” He kept his voice low and reassuring.

“He called me ‘Beauty’.

Mark couldn’t hide his shock, but the woman didn’t seem to notice, as she continued, ‘Scream, Beauty, scream. Love me, Beauty’. I don’t think I realized it was a mask until I tried to dig my nails into his face. He laughed; that was when he said, ‘Love me’.”

“Love me, Beauty?” Mark asked to clarify.

She looked at him, gathering a little more composure. “Yes. ‘Love me, Beauty, Love me’.”

“That’s precisely?”

“Yes.”

“You’re doing fine, go on,” he encouraged.

“We were struggling; he had a knife in his hand. He was going to kill me. That’s all I could think over and over again, that he was going to kill me. I tried to kick him, but he hit me, then Abby was there. I think she bit him, then he was gone, and there were sirens, red lights, and police.” The last few words came calmer.

“That was very good. Now, I want you to describe him. You said it was a man, around six feet. What kind of build?”

“I don’t know, I …”

“I know it’s hard, Jillian,” using her first name for familiarity, “but I want you to try. He was about six feet?”

“Yes, when he breathed, his breath hit me in the face when he pushed me against the table.”

“Good, that’s about right for six feet. How was he built?”

“He was … he was strong, big, not really burly, but not lean like you.” Mark couldn’t stop his lips from twitching.
What did she think of him?
“His muscles were not hard, but he was still strong.” Shudders again ran over her.

“It’s all right.” He was again resting a hand on hers.

“Can you tell me what he looked like? You pulled off his mask.” Instantly, her trembling multiplied, and her breathing became erratic. Her hand pulled away from his, going to her mouth to stifle a sob. “It’s all right.” Breaking his cardinal rule, he put his arm around her and pulled her close to him. Wishing he hadn’t asked the question, though he knew it had to be asked.

Wanting to protect someone had never been this pronounced. What was it about the vulnerable look of hers that got to him? He wondered as he tucked her into his neck. The dam which had been holding back her tears broke free letting the hot drops burn his skin all the way.

“He was going to kill her.  He was going to kill me. All the blood,” the woman sobbed. “So …”

Mark tightened his hold on her, letting her cry until the sobs faded, turning into muffled hiccups.

He sat her back from him reaching up with one hand to wipe away the tears.

“I’m sorry.”

He almost smiled at her apology. “It’s all right. You’ve earned it. I’m sorry but I have to ask you again. Can you describe him?” Her trembling started up again, but he pressed on. “Let’s start with his hair. What color? Was it long or short?”

She shook her head. “He didn’t have any hair. He was bald.”

“Bald! You’re positive?”

She gasped, to hold back tears, nodding again. “His head …” she put her hand back to her mouth, covering her trembling chin, swallowing hard several times. “His head was awful. The scalp was rough. I felt it when the mask came free. It was scarred or something.”

“All right, what about his face?”

“I didn’t see his face. It was in shadows or turned down toward Abby. She was after him. She saved me. How is she? How’s Abby?”

“You don’t know?”

She shook her head. “One of the policemen was going to take her to the vet.”

Looking around, he hadn’t thought of the dog, but he wanted, needed, to do something to give her some comfort. “Can you wait right here just a minute, and I’ll see if I can find out?” She nodded. “You’ll be all right?” She nodded again.

Mark stood motioning to a nearby policewoman to come over.

“Watch her.”

He walked across the wet grass to his second in command. “Edward?”

“They completed the search of the surrounding area. No sign of our attacker. Mackey’s dog had a possible scent, but it dead-ended in a driveway a block and a half away. The people in the house are gone on vacation according to a neighbor. No one saw anything, but a kid did hear a car start up just shortly after the sirens. Looks like our guy got away.”

“Anyone see anything earlier?”

Samuel shook his head. “The fog and mist kept most people in. The lady that called just happened to be letting in her cat when she heard the screaming. Both women are very lucky.”

“Tell me about it. All right, why don’t you keep a couple patrol cars in the area tonight?” Mark pulled his collar up around his neck. The mist was turning into a light rain. “Tell Stuart I want a copy of all the photos and his report on my desk as soon as possible.”

“Like yesterday,” Edward returned.

“I’m going to take Miss Taylor to the hospital. I think she should be checked out. Have you heard anything on her dog? She’s asking.” Mark looked over to the cruiser where the woman sat huddled in the front seat.

“Hamilton said they sent it over to Lakeview. Two cuts. Hopefully not bad, that dog deserves a medal.”

“Or at least a steak, cooked medium rare. I’ll see you in the morning.” Mark watched the criminologists bending over the ground inside the yellow taped off area, and offered a silent plea that there would be some clue to this maniac.

Turning, his eyes again rested on the young woman wrapped in a blanket. At least, tonight the beast didn’t win. The victim was alive, and with a witness, maybe they’d have a key. As his long stride carried him closer to the police car, he felt his heart stir as it hadn’t for a long time. The key was all too appealing. Her head was tilted to the side, leaning against the backrest. The light from the car illuminated her features. Dark eyelashes lowered to creamy smooth cheeks. Sweet, innocent, vulnerable, all ran through his mind as he stopped in front of her.

Longing hit him hard, making him want to reach down, and pull her up in his arms; to keep the dark, harsh world at bay. He didn’t want pain to have any place in Jillian Taylor’s life.

A quick nod to the policewoman and she moved off. Crouching down, he watched the peaceful face a moment. He longed to brush back the lock of hair that had fallen across her cheek. Her eyes sprung open, bright, alert, but as they locked on his face, fear disappeared from the blue depths. “You ready to go?” Mark found his voice odd to his ears, low, husky.

She didn’t ask where they were going, only nodded. Her large eyes fixed on his making him wonder if she, too, felt a stirring. Reaching out a hand, he helped her to stand then released her quick. He extended his arm indicating the direction. “This way,” again a hand found a way to her as he caught her elbow leading her around the front of the car.

“We’ll …” His sentence ended as the flash burst in front of his eyes. The gasp beside him caused him to spin. He felt the contact of Jillian’s body, his arms going around her. Looking back over his shoulder, the afterglow faded, so he could make out the solid built man with the camera up ready for another shot.

“Clark, get that thing out of my face.” In the year he knew the reporter, the man had always gotten on his nerves.

“Come on, Chief, its good press.”

“Not tonight, and you’re a reporter not a photographer.” Mark cut back, not withholding his annoyance from his voice.

“Hey, a man of many talents and it makes it easier if I get my own shots. I have a good eye. Do you want to tell me who this beauty is?”

At the word ‘beauty’, Mark heard Jillian’s little gasp. Tightening his arm, he pressed her into him. She had enough tonight without facing the arrogant, pushy reporter.

“Out of my way, Clark,” he pulled Jillian into step with him, as he maneuvered around the man.

“Hey, come on, Richards, what’s going on down here? The public has a right to know.” The man moved back into their path.

“There’ll be a statement in the morning.”

“It was the killer. Then who’s the victim? She found the body? Did she see him?” The reporter pushed a mini-recorder at them.

“Get that thing out of my face before I have you arrested,” Mark growled.

“You can’t, freedom of the press, you know. Now, what’s her name?” The camera flashed again.

“Edward!” Mark released Jillian, stepping in front of her.

“Listen, Clark, do me a favor. I’ll give you a statement in the morning, but for now, back off.” His second in command came running up, shouldering his way between the two other men; taking the reporter’s arm he tugged him away.

“Come on, Clark. If you behave yourself, I’ll let you get a picture of Miller over there doing his thing; otherwise, we’ll take a run around the park. Maybe you can find some other sicko out preying on young women.”

“So it was the same guy. We have a serial killer on our hands.” The man’s excitement came through so that you could hear “good press” and “hot scoop” written all over his tone.

“Two killings don’t make a serial killer.”

Mark heard his second comment, knowing down inside it was wrong. They did have a serial killer. A sick mind lashing out on beautiful young woman, and if they didn’t find him soon, more would die. Feeling the woman beside him shudder, he looked down. The maniac slipped up tonight; he’d err again, and they would get him. Opening the door of his sedan, he settled the woman in. Her face turned away from the night, pressing into the seat. Mark quickly closed the door to shut out the conversation behind him.

“Two, you mean the victims still alive?” The reporter’s voice was hot with excitement. “Was that the victim? Come on, give Samuels.”

Mark climbed in the driver’s side cutting out the further comments. Edward Samuels could handle Clark.