Conduit (16 page)

“Nate and I will always be friends. We click that way and
that’s what made it so easy to be around him for so long without having mutual
feelings for him. He’s the closest thing to a male version of Cassie I have. Without
a spark, though, there was nothing that could salvage our relationship.” Emily stood
up with her plate in hand, and came around the table to clear off his plate as
well.

Jake mulled over his next words. Emily was being candid with
him, answering questions that she could have avoided. She had opened up to him
in a way he hadn’t expected. Hiding secrets from her wouldn’t benefit their blossoming
relationship. “I have to be honest with you about something,” he said.

Emily tilted her head with curiosity. Her warm eyes encouraged
him to continue with his confession.

“After my meeting with Nathan today, I spoke to him about us.
I let him know that we had been out on a couple dates and that we would be
together tonight.”

Emily nodded. She walked over to the breakfast bar and set
down their plates without saying a word.

Racked with guilt and worried he had just destroyed her
feelings for him, he said, “Emily, I should have talked to you first, but it
was a spontaneous conversation. I was worried he’d find out about us and fire
me in some kind of jealous vendetta.”

“He’s not that kind of guy,” Emily said.

“So I hear.” Jake pushed his chair back and walked over to
meet her. He rested his elbow on the breakfast bar and faced her. “I had
nothing but the best intentions when I talked to him. I really didn’t mean for
any of what I said to come out.”

Emily looked down. “I guess that’s why Nate called me today.”

Jake jerked his head back. “He called you?”

“Right before I left the office. He’s stopping by my office in
the morning. I figured it was another ploy to try to get back together.”

“I’m sorry, Em.”

“Why be sorry?” She locked eyes with him. “You did nothing
wrong. It would be awkward for you to date me behind his back and that’s
completely understandable. I’d question your integrity if you didn’t struggle
with that. If anything, you’re honest to a fault.”

Her words relieved him and he smiled. “I’ve never been
accused of that.”

“Well, I’m also honest to a fault. Even if it’s accusing
someone else of being honest.”

Jake laughed. “You’ve just talked yourself in circles.”

“I can’t help it. I can’t seem to shut up around you, even
when I know better than to say another word.”

The backs of his fingers grazed her wine-flushed cheek. “I
don’t ever want you to shut up around me.”

“Even for this?” Emily leaned up and met his lips. She
kissed him slowly at first. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him to
her.

His body fit perfectly against her shape, and yet he couldn’t
get close enough to her. Jake backed her up against the wall next to the
breakfast bar. As the kiss intensified, he reached for the bottom of her shirt.
He slid his hands underneath the material. His fingers pressed against her warm
skin just above her waist, and every part of his body yearned to tear off her
restrictive clothing.

Despite wanting to explore every inch of her, he reluctantly
pried his hands off her skin, smoothed down her shirt, and slowed the kiss. When
their lips parted, his forehead touched hers and he smiled. They were both out
of breath, and Emily bit her bottom lip.

“Damn,” he whispered.

“I second that.”

Jake moved his head back from hers, but kept his hands on
her hips. He was concerned that vocalizing his thoughts would ring hollow to
her, but he wanted to have a slow moving and long lasting relationship. A
physical encounter this early in their relationship might do more damage than
good.

“Emily, I really want to be with you. I haven’t wanted to be
with anyone more than I do when I’m with you. But I don’t want to screw this
up. I want to take it slow and get it right.”

“Me, too. Part of me wants to race back to the bedroom and
have you stay the night with me, but I don’t want to mess up a good thing.” She
waved her hand back and forth between them. “This physical attraction will
always be there. I never thought I would say this, but I really want to know
you before anything else. I want to know everything there is to know before we
go down that path, and I don’t want to waste any time continuing to get to know
you.”

“Of course. I’m not about to stop seeing you every chance we
get. I’ve never met anyone like you before. I’ve never…” He paused, searching
for the right words. “I’ve never cared about someone as much as I do for you.
We’ve only known each other a couple of days and it doesn’t make much sense—”

“Yes, it does make sense. Nothing in my life has ever made
sense the way this does.”

Jake kissed her for a long moment, savoring the taste of her
lips. He broke away when his skin prickled again with desire. “We had better go
do dishes. I don’t know how much more restraint I have left tonight.”

Emily laughed. “Between the two of us, I’m sure the kitchen
will never be cleaner.”

It was always risky driving too long
with a body in the trunk of his car. Though David kept every vehicle he used in
good working order and always drove just a hair under the speed limit while
following all traffic laws, any number of things could go wrong. Someone could
hit his car in an accident. He could get delayed in a DUI checkpoint. An
overzealous cop could pull him over.

When he first started killing years earlier, he kept the bodies
closer to home, but that also held a number of risks, as it could give police a
radius within which to search for him. He weighed the pros and cons and
determined the odds were more in his favor if he scattered the bodies farther
away from his home, rather than dump a number of bodies close to where he
lived.

To help him in the task of transportation, every car he used
was stolen, and he acquired a new one at least twice a year. He could not risk
registering a car in his name that he would later use to transport a body. They
were all newer vehicles and after taking them, he made alterations to their
appearance. Changing out the license plate, adding a dent here or there, even
switching out the VIN plate on the dashboard with one stolen from a junkyard.
He kept several vehicles parked in the barn outside of his farmhouse, and he
used a different one for every errand.

Though he took serious measures not to get caught, the drive
to a dump location gave him an adrenaline-fueled thrill, especially when he drove
by a police car with a decaying, mutilated corpse resting in the trunk of his
unassuming vehicle. He laughed at those cops unfortunate enough to drive next
to his car when he transported a body. They never knew what horrors were so
close to them.

Tonight, he had yet to encounter any police, which was
always better than when his heart raced at one pulling up behind him. Wrapped
in painter’s tarp, Jillian’s body hid in the trunk of the Ford Taurus he selected
for this drop. He always prepared the bodies in the same manner. Though in the
beginning he hated the cleaning part of his work, it allowed him time alone
with the girl to relish her, and he soon learned to enjoy caressing away any blood
and debris from her skin.

Over time, he developed a ritual for cleaning a body. After
donning latex gloves, knee-high rubber boots, a long rubber coat, and a hair
net so nothing from him could transfer onto the girl, the long process of
cleaning the body began. He first worked on the fingernails, even under the
fingers he detached from the girl’s hand, carefully scraping out any dirt or
other debris under them. Once her nails were clean, he used an expensive
coconut shampoo and conditioner so her hair looked as nice as possible. He then
scrubbed her body with a creamy vanilla body wash, rinsed, and repeated. The
smell of death would soon override any special bath products he used to clean her,
but at least for a short time the smell was tolerable.

Once cleaned, he let her air dry. He did not dare use a
towel against her skin for fear that fibers from the towel would catch on her
body. When her body was fully dry, he used a large magnifying glass to double
check the body in its entirety. If he found even one fiber, hair, or other
evidence, he started the process all over. Sometimes the meticulous cleaning
could take several hours, much longer if he had to do it more than once.

After he was satisfied he erased all evidence from the body,
he rolled the girl into a tarp. From there, he carried her upstairs and outside
to her waiting transport. Before he brought each girl home for them to fulfill
their destiny, he planned out where they would be left for the police to find.
He didn’t mind if the police quickly discovered the body because he left behind
no evidence linking the girl to him. He took care of every detail and accounted
for every possibility. Even the tarp was destroyed when he returned home.

David threw his car into reverse and backed down an alley, stopping
beside three green commercial trash bins. The surrounding warehouses had been
out of business for quite some time, and the buildings were on a side street
that had very little traffic, especially this time of night. If it had been a
Thursday, Friday, or Saturday night, he might not get away with leaving a body
in the alley. A popular country bar was only a few blocks over, and those
nights were the busiest. Monday, however, was not a night when lonely souls
opted to drink too much and dance with strangers in the hopes of spending a few
hours with someone in their bed.

He had scoped out the alley weeks earlier, even though he
had not yet decided on taking Jillian. He encountered Jillian four months ago,
long before he found any of the other women, but he wavered on whether or not
she would work out for him. Once he selected her as number seven, he knew this
alley was the perfect place to leave her body.

He switched off the headlights, but left the car running. He
peered down the alley with a small flashlight and confirmed he was alone. Trunk
open, he took out the rain slicker he had placed on top of her covered body and
pulled it on over his clothes. He bent his knees and scooped up Jillian’s
covered body. Laying her on the asphalt about halfway down the alley, he lifted
the end of the tarp and rolled her out of her wrapping, using his gloved hands as
little as possible to guide her. Back at his car, he tossed the bunched up tarp
in the trunk.

Gently, he lowered the trunk of the car to limit the amount
of noise. He started for the open driver’s side door, but hesitated before
getting into the car. Someone else was in the alley with him. David frowned, as
he had just looked up and down the empty alley before taking Jillian’s body out
of the trunk.

Closing his eyes, he searched his mind in an attempt to
discover if the sudden rush of fear coming from the alley was real or imagined.
As he emptied his own thoughts from his mind, he reached out to find the source
of the presence. He whirled around, eyes staring into the dark shadows, fully expecting
to see someone there.

David stormed down the alley, upset at the idea that he
might have to dispose of a second body that night. He had never killed someone
out of necessity before, but he could not risk getting caught at such an
integral part of his mission. He was now permanently connected with Emily. He had
sensed her every second since he ended Jillian’s life, and she also felt him.
If someone saw him, it could destroy everything he worked so hard to achieve. He
would be forced to kill Emily and leave Kansas to find another woman to take
her place.

He stopped at an opening to his right, where another alley branched
off. His eyes adjusted to the dark and he held still, listening for even the
slightest sound. Nothing moved. David closed his eyes again, and cleared his
mind. The sense of someone else in the alley had disappeared. The only thing
remaining was Emily’s beautiful presence. He must have imagined this other
person, and he was relieved. He didn’t want to kill Emily unless he had no
other choice.

As he walked toward his car, he reveled in the idea that she
would not be a faraway emotion for long. He would look into her eyes, touch her
warm skin, and know what it was like to have his passion for her reciprocated. They
would truly become one in body, as they already were in mind and spirit. Once
she came to him, she would not be able to deny him, and would accept their destined
future together. Now that Jillian was dead, he would soon hold Emily in his
arms, and she would love him.

Lionel pinched the bridge of his
nose and squeezed his eyes shut against his migraine. The investigation seemed
to be going in their favor for once, and then this. Another victim, dumped in a
neglected alley between two abandoned warehouses.

Shawn strolled up beside Lionel, his expression as dismayed
as Lionel felt. He pulled latex gloves on over his hands. “Let’s get to it,” Shawn
said.

Following Shawn to where Perry kneeled over the body, déjà
vu washed over Lionel as he put on his gloves. Dumped next to some graffitied
trash cans, the girl laid naked for the world to see. As with the other women,
her body was not posed in any particular manner.

“You boys need to hurry up and catch this guy,” Perry said when
they reached him. “He’s getting much, much worse.”

Lionel saw what Perry meant by his statement. The body of
the victim was sliced up the same as the rest of the victims, but the girl’s
face was also mutilated beyond recognition. “This is different than the rest,”
Lionel said. His stomach twisted while he examined the wounds on her face. No
part of her face was left untouched by the killer’s knife. “It
feels...personal.”

“Why would he slash up her face?” Shawn asked. “If it was to
hide her identity, he had to know we’d just get her name through fingerprints
or some other means.”

Lionel gestured to the six fingers lying on the ground
beside the body. “If he wanted to hide her identity, he wouldn’t have left
those behind.”

“It’s almost like he’s showing off at this point,” Shawn
said. “He wants us to see how cruel he can be.”

“The letter?” Lionel asked Perry.

Perry rolled the girl’s left leg to the side, revealing the
letter “E” carved into her inner thigh. “He’s back to doing it antemortem.”

Shawn grimaced. “So she felt every bit of the letter being
cut into her.”

“As far as I can tell, she felt every bit of everything he
did to her,” Perry said. “For this one, death just didn’t come soon enough.”

Lionel closed his eyes. The wounds on the girl’s body lit up
the backs of his eyelids. “Why did he carve the same letter as last time?”

“Who said it’s the same letter?” Shawn said. “It could be
the start of a whole new word.”

“Hear me e,” Lionel said. “Could it be a name?”

“Your last name is Edwards,” Perry said. He motioned for the
crime scene photographer to come over. “You can start with her now,” he told
the photographer.

Lionel rose from the cracked asphalt. “When’s the autopsy?” he
asked.

“Tomorrow morning,” Perry said. “We had a busy couple of
nights so we’re a little backed up, but I’ll try for sooner if I can.”

Lionel waved goodbye to Perry and walked back toward his car
with Shawn. “How would the killer know my name?”

“The press conference last week,” Shawn said. “Your name was
mentioned quite a few times, and it’s been in the news.”

“True,” Lionel said, “but it doesn’t seem right. If I was
the recipient of the message this whole time, he would have had to know my name
from the beginning.”

“Unless he was writing a general message and then added your
name after he learned you were the head of the task force.”

Lionel stopped at his car, frustration boiling his face. “Then
why won’t he just tell us what he wants us to hear?” His voice became louder as
he spoke. “Is he trying to say he can really torture someone before they die?
Or that he’s mastered the art of chopping off fingers? Or maybe that he can
make us look like the most incompetent detectives in the country?” Lionel turned
and repeatedly kicked his tire.

Shawn held up his hands. “Hey, slow down there.”

“I’m sorry,” Lionel said. He balled up his fists and held
them down to his sides as he tried to calm down. “I’m just getting tired of
crime scenes and autopsies. What these women went through before they died is
really starting to get to me.”

“You don’t have to apologize for being frustrated,” Shawn
said. “We all are. Just remember, we’re on the same team.”

Lionel took a deep breath and unclenched his fists. “Then
let’s start working on witnesses. I want to know who this girl is and when she was
taken. Nothing else matters right now but her identity.”

“You got it, boss.” Shawn jogged off toward his car.

Lionel walked around his car to the driver’s side door. He
reached for the handle, but hesitated before he opened the door.

Looking down the alley, the victim’s face came back to the
front of his mind. Something about the way she was savagely murdered bothered
him, just as it had when he first looked at her, before his train of thought
was thrown in a different direction by the letter. Unable to remember what it
was that nagged at him, he climbed into his car and drove away in the direction
of the police station.