“Dr. Langley, I don’t know if that’s necessary now—”
“If he’s a copycat, following White, why
wouldn’t
he come after Lisa? As you pointed out when you forced her to testify, she’s White’s only surviving victim. For all we know she may be the reason this psycho started up again.”
Brad clenched his jaw, unable to argue the point. It was, perhaps in reality, the very reason he had driven here himself. “I swear, Dr. Langley, I will protect her this time.”
“You expect me to trust you with Lisa’s safety?” Langley shouted. “You sure as hell didn’t protect her the first time.”
“I know that.” Anger mounted within Brad. Every day he wrestled with the guilt that ate at him. It was like a sore that wouldn’t heal. But he angled his head away from Lisa, refusing to upset her any more than necessary. “If this lunatic comes after Lisa, he won’t get her. I’ll give my life before I’ll let that happen.”
“Your life won’t be worth anything if he succeeds,” Langley said. “Because if one hair on my daughter’s head is harmed again, I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”
LIAM LANGLEY STARED at his perfectly manicured hands. The hands of a surgeon. A man who saved lives.
A man who had failed to protect his daughter.
Gripping his desk with a shaky sigh, he forced the rage that had eaten at him for four long years at bay, rage that had only slightly dissipated with White’s death.
Anxious now that the police might make some connection between him and Mindy and the night White had died, he accessed the only file that could condemn him and deleted the information, then fed the printout on his desk into the shredder.
He should have destroyed the papers a long time ago, but no one had asked any questions at the time.
Now, with Mindy missing and this copycat killer dredging up the past, he couldn’t be too cautious.
He had carefully constructed his career, had built his reputation on a genius IQ and refined surgical techniques, always acutely attuned to the latest cutting edge procedures.
Nothing would destroy the name he had built.
But he’d had to take action against White.
Lisa’s bruised body and anguished voice floated back in the dark recesses of his mind. That trial…no, the abduction had changed things for him. Had given him a different perspective on human life.
People claimed that doctors shouldn’t play God. He usually agreed. But the opportunity had presented itself for revenge, and he’d craved it.
White had deserved the fate that had been bestowed on him.
Liam refused to feel an ounce of guilt for it whatsoever.
“I CAN’T BELIEVE my father’s reacting this way, Brad,” Lisa said. “I haven’t spoken to him in months, and now he wants to call and boss me around like I’m a child.”
Brad adopted a smile, although it was tight. “Your father is just worried about you, Lisa. I can’t blame him for that. If I were in his shoes, I’d feel the same way.”
He meant if he really cared for her. She struggled to stave off the hurt his comment triggered.
And her father’s attitude toward Brad disturbed her. He’d bad-mouthed the agent after the trial, insisted Brad was no better than a criminal himself. They’d argued about Brad more than once, creating a wedge between them. But she couldn’t tell Brad. “I still refuse to stay with him,” Lisa said.
“It might not be a bad idea,” Brad stated. “His place is secure. He wants to hire a bodyguard.”
“No.” Lisa spun away, desperately grappling for control. “You don’t understand…it hasn’t been the same with us, not since…the kidnapping.”
The silence stretched taut between them, reverberating with the harsh truth.
“I’m sorry, Lisa.”
She closed her eyes, letting his deep voice wash over her, soothe her as she had all those days during the trial. Funny how Brad hadn’t been doting, had barely said anything specific, but his presence and quiet air of command had grounded her, given her comfort, hope for normalcy one day. And here in Ellijay, she’d thought she’d found it.
Gathering her strength, she turned back to face him. “I’m happy here, Brad. I like teaching, the mountains. I won’t allow another crazy person to rob me again.”
“Then help me, Lisa. I don’t want you or any other woman to suffer at this copycat’s hands.”
Willing her courage to sustain her, she nodded and moved back to the sofa. Her nerves still on edge, she picked up the small needlepoint pillow and crushed it in her hands. “All right. But I’m warning you, I still don’t remember where William kept me.”
Brad’s steadfast gaze didn’t waver. “Maybe if we talk through everything one more time, you might remember something new. If not the place, maybe a friend of William’s, a neighbor, an old roommate, someone who White might have confided in.”
“Okay,” Lisa said, grim but determined, “where do you want me to start?”
Brad hesitated. “At the beginning. When you first met White.”
She inhaled sharply, averting her gaze as the memories flooded her. “I was enrolled at Georgia State. I had seen William around campus. He played intramural hockey, said he was interested in sports medicine. We hung out at the Library—”
“The student library?”
“No, the Library, on Marietta Street. You know—the local hangout bar for college students. They serve drinks, play recorded music.”
“That’s right, now I remember us discussing the place.”
“One night he approached our table. I was sitting with two girls in my study group when he started talking to all of us, and he seemed…nice.” Lisa hesitated, remembering his act changing so abruptly.
“He fooled a lot of people, Lisa.”
She gave a wan smile, but shook her head as if she still blamed herself for not seeing through him.
“You two started seeing each other then?”
She nodded. “We didn’t really date exactly, just met at the bar, hung out at basketball games, attended a couple of concerts together.” She paused, struggling to recall the progression of their romance. Why she’d been attracted to William, when now just the thought of him made her skin crawl. When she’d taken off her blinders and first suspected that he had a dark side.
“Like I told you before, we saw each other for about six months. The last few weeks he changed. He was moody, charming one minute, then secretive the next. And he exploded a couple of times when I questioned why he was late.”
“But he never hit you before the abduction?”
Lisa shook her head, studying the stitching on the pillow, avoiding looking at him. “He raised his hand one time, but I shrank back, and when he looked at me and saw what he was about to do, something snapped, and he left the room. I didn’t hear from him for a week that time.”
“Then he sent flowers?”
She nodded, swallowing hard. “He showed up with a single white rose every day that week.”
Brad said nothing, and Lisa continued. “One night he made a big production about wanting us to be together. But then…when I finally decided we should…that I would…” She halted, uncomfortable.
“When you agreed to sleep with him, he couldn’t perform.” Brad filled in for her in a flat voice.
Lisa chewed the inside of her cheek and nodded, unable to face him. How could she have wanted to sleep with a monster? “He got so frustrated, then he…blamed me.” She closed her eyes, his humiliating accusations reverberating in her head.
Brad folded his hand over hers, stroked her palm gently. “You know it wasn’t your fault, Lisa.”
A labored sigh flowed from her lips, although she still felt ugly inside from the comments. “Yes. The therapist I saw after the abduction…we worked through it. But at the time…”
“You tried to make it up to him,” Brad said flatly.
“Yes.” That one word was filled with pain and the heartbreaking ache of shame. “Then he left,” Lisa said in a low voice. “I didn’t see him for another week.”
“And when he returned?”
“He was his flirty, charming self. He started with the roses all over again. Said he wanted to take it slow, make up for the time before.”
“And you tried again?”
Lisa stood, squashing the pillow in her arms as she walked to the window and glanced outside. Dusk had settled, the purples and oranges of the sky streaking through the window, making the majestic mountains outside as picturesque as a postcard.
But her memories were a sharp contrast, as if someone had taken a paintbrush and swirled charcoal-black paint across the bright colors of the horizon.
“I was a fool. By the third time, I realized that he had problems. That’s when I tried to pull away.”
“But he didn’t want to let you go.”
“No, he said that wasn’t an option, that he loved me.
Only me.
” She shuddered. “That night…I heard something sinister in his voice. Something dark, something that scared me.”
Later that evening, she’d discovered the nail clippings William had kept, clippings from each victim covered in blood and dirt.
And then she’d realized he was a serial killer….
LISA’S WORDS SOUNDED hollow, the courage it took for her to repeat the story taking its toll. Her face had paled, her posture wavering as if the burden of memory was too heavy to carry. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and erase the horror forever. But her father’s words trilled in his head and he kept himself in check. Liam Langley knew about Brad’s past.
Things
he
didn’t want Lisa to know.
Still, Brad wanted to keep her safe. He wanted to return to the city and leave her with the beauty of the mountains, apple trees and glorious sunsets still intact, unmarred by the darkness of the past and his failure as her protector.
But Mindy might be staring at her grave right now. Or inside it.
“He’s a sociopath,” Brad said, resorting to the psychiatrist’s diagnosis of White after his arrest. “He suffered from a psychotic break triggered by years of abuse. Lisa, you couldn’t have known that, because he didn’t want you to know.”
She looked at him then, with a lost expression, as if the memory had been stirred from the dark cauldron that held her most painful secrets. “I should have caught on sooner. That one time he had scratches on his face and blood on his clothes…”
“You had no reason at the time not to buy his story of a mugging.”
Shadows streaked through the window, hovering around her bleak gaze. “Maybe I knew and didn’t want to admit it,” she said softly.
“No.” Brad crossed the room, willed her to stop picking at the threads of her guilt just as she was ripping the threads of the pillow’s stitching. “When you sensed he was dangerous, you did call, Lisa. That took courage.”
“But it was too late.” Raw anguish tightened her voice. “I could have saved those other women if I’d had my eyes wide open. And dear God, how could I have even thought I cared about a person like him? How could I ever have considered sleeping with him?”
“Lisa, stop it,” Brad snapped. He couldn’t allow her to blame herself, not now. “Every single one of those women were fooled by him. They got into his car willingly. There were no forced entries, no abductions at gunpoint.”
“No, all that came later.”
Silence stretched between them, as explosive as shattering glass on hot pavement.
“Let’s focus on details,” he said, trying to draw her away from the guilt. Hers and his. “You never met White’s brother?”
“No. He told me he didn’t have any siblings.”
“Birth records prove he did. But White claimed he hadn’t seen his brother since he was a teenager. And his mother has been dead for years.”
“Do you think his brother is the copycat killer?” Lisa asked.
“I don’t know. Prison records indicate that a man named Clyde White logged in to visit William a few months back. He might have kidnapped Mindy to get back at me.”
“Then he might want revenge on me, too,” Lisa said, her voice quivering. “But what about Joann? Did you know her?”
Brad shook his head. “No. And so far, we haven’t determined a connection between her and Mindy, or her and White.” He paced across the room. “We’ve issued an APB for the brother. He’s one possibility, but right now we have to explore all the alternatives.”
She inhaled sharply. “What other alternatives?”
“Did White have any male friends that hung with him or with the two of you, a roommate or guy he played sports with, maybe?”
Lisa closed her eyes as if thinking back. “There was one man…I think his name was Vernon. He was kind of an odd guy, really thin, not very sociable. He tagged along behind William.”
“You didn’t mention him before,” Brad said.
Lisa frowned. “I didn’t think it was important. Besides, he sort of disappeared after William and I started dating. In fact, I don’t remember seeing him the last four months William and I dated.”
“What was his last name?”
Lisa rubbed her temple. “Uh, Vernon…Handle. No, Hanks. I think he liked photography. He always had a camera around his neck. Said he liked to take candid shots. Maybe photography or journalism was his major.”
Brad jotted the name in his notepad. “Do you know what happened to him?”
“No. I assumed he hooked on to someone else when William blew him off.”
“I’ll check him out. Did he ever talk to you? Make a play for you, anything like that?”
Lisa shook her head. “No, he acted uncomfortable around girls, had sort of a pocked face, as if he’d had problems with acne when he was younger. William said he didn’t want him latching on to him.”
“He cramped his style?” Brad said in disgust.
She swallowed, dropping her hand to the pillow again. “I guess so.”
“But what if William was lying? Or what if this guy followed William, maybe stalked the women, too?”
Lisa’s eyes widened in horror. “You mean, he might have w…watched?”
Brad shrugged, sickened by the possibility, but a second party might explain the copycat. This guy Vernon was a loser, nerd, shy around girls, got his rocks off watching William work the women. Maybe he had followed White and discovered his secrets… It wouldn’t have been the first time a serial killer had an accomplice. Or he might have accidentally stumbled on White beating the women or burying them, and blackmailed him into letting him watch. Perverted, but possible.