Love Inspired Suspense June 2014 Bundle 2 of 2: Forced Alliance\Out for Justice\No Place to Run (22 page)

When he pulled into the Douglases' driveway, the garage door was up. The white Escort sat on the right, but the spot reserved for George's Silverado was vacant. Which meant Sharon was home alone.

He got out of the car, the knot in his stomach swelling to boulder size. He would stay with Sharon until George arrived. Then maybe he would go have dinner at Pappy's. Not that he would feel like eating. But the hometown pizzeria was always hopping.

In Harmony Grove, news traveled fast. And the more shocking the news, the faster it spread. Maybe Kayla said something. Or maybe someone saw something. He would look for any shred of evidence that might help them find whoever had done this to her.

Lord, help us catch this guy before anyone else gets hurt.

His thoughts turned to Lexi and a pang of tenderness shot through him. She was probably at that moment working on her investigation, doing her best to hold it together, the rain masking tears she would try so hard not to shed.

And, Lord, please give Lexi the strength to do what she feels she needs to do.

TWO

L
exi straightened her spine and tried not to fidget. A couple dozen other detectives sat at tables around the room, and Tomlinson stood at the front ready to bring everyone up to speed on the latest developments in the case.

The weekend had been a blur and hadn't included nearly enough sleep. By the time she had gotten home and crawled into bed in the wee hours of Saturday morning, it had been almost daylight. But even then, sleep had eluded her. Every time she got just on the brink, the image of Kayla—bound, gagged and strangled—shot through her mind and jolted her instantly awake.

And Saturday and Sunday hadn't offered any opportunities for rest. All the daylight hours and a fair share of the nighttime ones had been occupied with family. Aunt Sharon and Uncle George were a wreck, so Lexi had jumped in with making phone calls, helping with funeral arrangements and securing lodging for those who would be traveling to attend the service.

Now she was beyond exhausted. If she sat in one place for too long, she would probably fall asleep. Hopefully, Tomlinson would keep it short.

When the sergeant stepped up to the podium, his expression was grave. His eyes circled the room. “Thursday night, our killer struck again. The newest victim was Kayla Douglas, a twenty-four-year-old teacher at Harmony Grove Elementary. She was found in the woods Friday afternoon, about three miles north of town.”

Tomlinson's gaze shifted to Lexi and lingered. If he was looking for a reaction, he wasn't going to get one. No way was she going to give him a reason to pull her off the case.

Finally he continued, “The photos arrived at the
Ledger
in Saturday's mail. They're being processed now, along with the envelope.”

Just like the others. Lexi sighed. It almost seemed a pointless waste of time. The killer had never left behind any prints. No DNA on the envelope seal or the back of the stamp. He used one of the well-known brands of envelope sealers. He was too smart to lick them. Or to touch anything without gloves.

But as long as he kept killing, they would keep investigating each case as if it was the first. Because eventually they would get a break. When someone kills long enough and frequently enough, no matter how meticulous and methodical, he eventually makes a mistake.

Tomlinson moved out from behind the podium to pace slowly back and forth across the front of the room. “We've checked out her house and lifted some prints from the entry area. But just as with the other women, there was no sign of a struggle, and the neighbors didn't hear a thing. If she disappeared from home, she went willingly. Or at least opened the door willingly. It'll be a while till we get the toxicology report back, but my guess is they'll find chloroform in her system, too.”

Lexi struggled against the churning in her gut. How could Kayla have fallen prey? She was smart, always cautious. But according to friends and family members, so were the other victims. These weren't women who hung out in bars and went home with strange men. They were careful, responsible girls who disappeared from their own locked homes after being settled in for the night.

“As most of you know, this is the fifth one. And the killer's M.O. is always the same. He shows up at the homes of his victims, somehow convinces them to open the door, then puts them out with chloroform. And before he leaves with his unconscious victim, he meticulously twists the lock and pulls the door shut behind him.”

He stopped his pacing and faced them fully. “We're already working with Lakeland, Winter Haven and Bartow. Now we're going to involve Harmony Grove. So, Simmons, coordinate your efforts with them. I'm guessing you know the chief of police and the two officers.”

She nodded. Oh, yes, she knew them. One better than the others.

Six years ago he had offered her a ring. And she had panicked. She was finally ready to claim her independence and, based on her parents' miserable relationship, decided she was better off alone. She'd left for school, hoping deep down that he loved her enough to wait for her. He waited, all right. Maybe a week. She'd come home during Thanksgiving break ready to tell him she had made a mistake. He'd met her at the door...with his new fiancée.
Pregnant
fiancée, if the rumors were to be believed.

Since then, even though her mom still lived in Harmony Grove, she and Alan had pretty well managed to avoid each other. The first two years, she'd been away at school. Then, instead of returning to Harmony Grove, she'd settled in nearby Auburndale. Up until Friday, they had seen little of each other.

Something told her that was about to change.

Tomlinson resumed his pacing. “The Harmony Grove officers likely know everyone in town, so they should be able to help us. I want the names of every person she came in contact with for the past month, and every possible lead followed. There's got to be some connection between these five women, someone they each knew and trusted well enough to open the door for late at night.”

“Yes, sir.” She wouldn't leave any stone unturned. Even if it meant working side by side with Alan.

Tomlinson returned to the podium and rested both hands on its top edges. “The story has already hit the papers, and at some point we'll call another press conference. But we have to be careful. There's a fine line between warning the public and giving this guy the fame and recognition he wants.”

He inhaled slowly. “A lot of killers like to keep trophies, but this guy is different. He wants his crimes on display for the world to see. Right now he's killing at the rate of once a month. Seeing his actions publicized could spur him to kill more.” Tomlinson's gaze circled the room. “All right, then. Let's get out there and get this thing solved.”

Lexi dropped her pen into her purse and gathered her notepad. So she was going to have to work with Alan. She could handle it. At least Tomlinson hadn't taken her off the case.

She moved across the room and as she reached the open door Tomlinson's voice stopped her.

“Simmons, hold up. I need to talk to you.”

She paused in the doorway, apprehension sifting over her. Maybe she was premature on her assessment that he wasn't going to pull her. “Yes, sir?”

“Are you okay working this case? I heard you almost lost it out there.”

Embarrassment surged through her and her stomach clenched. Blanchard or Vickers. One of them had squealed on her.

Either that or Alan had broken his promise and made a call to her supervisor.

“I'm fine, sir.” Her gaze traveled past Tomlinson to where a new detective was making his way toward them from the restrooms. Greg something. She had met him once or twice. And she didn't want him knowing her business. Nothing against Greg. He seemed like a nice enough guy. But she didn't want
anybody
knowing her business.

She waited till he passed, then turned her attention back to Tomlinson.

“Sir, Harmony Grove is a small town, and I grew up there. So I knew the victim.” That was all she would tell him.

“I suspected as much. I can assign someone else.”

“No, sir, that won't be necessary.”

He studied her, his kind eyes searching, and she fought the urge to squirm under his gentle scrutiny. Brent Tomlinson was like a father to everyone in the district.

“Is there something you're not telling me?”

She shook her head. “I can handle it, sir.”

He hesitated for only a moment longer. “Then get out there.”

Relief washed through her. “Yes, sir. I'll do that.”

“Maybe with a lot of luck and some really great detective work, we'll catch this guy.” He smiled, crinkling the skin at the corners of his eyes. “And a little prayer wouldn't hurt, either.”

She nodded. The really great detective work—she was all over that. But the prayer would have to be someone else's department. She and God weren't on speaking terms. Hadn't been for quite some time. Seven years, to be exact. Not that they had been all that close before.

But when God had taken her best friend, that had cemented it. Of course, even now, she had to admit that God hadn't exactly taken her. Greed and bad choices had gotten Priscilla killed. And blackmailing some really bad dudes.

But it hadn't been that way with her dad. He hadn't done anything to bring about his demise. He'd spent his entire adult life catering to an impossible-to-please woman. Then three years ago, he'd come home from work, sat down with the newspaper and keeled over with a massive heart attack.

And now her cousin Kayla. Kayla was the kindest, most generous person she had ever known. She poured her life into her students, tithed her 10 percent and never missed a church service.

But God had taken her anyway.

No, if that was the kind of God people served, someone else would have to do the praying.

* * *

A steel-gray sky hung low over the manicured lawns of Peace Memorial Gardens, and a light mist rained down on those gathered around the freshly dug grave. The weather fit the mood.

Alan had joined the others who had made the short trip from the Cornerstone Community Church to the cemetery at the edge of town. Most of Harmony Grove had come out for the funeral, and the small brick church had been filled to capacity and beyond. He had arrived ten minutes before the start of the service and had had no choice but to squeeze in along the back wall. Lexi, he had assumed, was seated at the front with the family.

But the group attending the simple graveside service was much smaller—about three dozen of Kayla's closest friends and family members. Pastor Tom stood in front of the casket, in the center of the elongated semicircle of mourners.

Alan cast a glance at Lexi some six feet away. The simple black dress she wore emphasized the paleness of her skin, and crystalline mini-droplets coated her blond hair, giving her an almost ethereal quality.

She stared straight ahead, her shoulders stiff and her jaw rigid. He understood. He felt it, too—anger at whoever had done this to Kayla.

But Lexi's anger was also directed at God. At least it had been before, when her best friend was killed. Back then he hadn't had any answers for her. He hadn't shared any godly wisdom, because he'd had no faith of his own.

Now he did. He had that faith. And he knew where Kayla had gone. But he still didn't have any answers.

After Pastor Tom gave the closing prayer, the small crowd began to disperse. Alan fell in beside Lexi as she walked toward her car.

“Are you doing all right?”

She shrugged. “As well as can be expected.”

“Anything I can do?” He had talked to Chief Dalton about the county and city coordinating efforts to find Kayla's killer. The chief had thought it was a great idea and said he would talk to the sheriff's office. Hopefully the sheriff's office agreed. Kayla had been a good friend. He wanted the creep caught. And it would be that much more rewarding if he could have a personal hand in it.

“Actually, there is.” She stopped next to her car and turned to face him. “Get in.”

He hurried around to the passenger's side of the blue Mazda before she could change her mind. By the time he slipped inside, she was already sitting at the wheel, her gaze fixed on some point beyond the spotted front windshield.

“It looks like we're going to be working together. At least coordinating our efforts.” She spoke without looking at him. She didn't sound thrilled. But she didn't seem miffed, either.

“Are you okay with that?”

Now she looked at him. “We both want to see Kayla's killer caught. I think we're mature enough to set aside our past differences and work toward the same end.”

He nodded. “The sheriff's office has filled us in on each of the cases. But give me everything you've got.”

“The girls were all early to mid-twenties, two from Lakeland, one from Bartow and one from Winter Haven. The perp feeds on recognition, so he takes photos of his victims and sends them to the
Ledger,
hoping they'll be printed.”

“Have they been?”

“No. They've turned them over to Lakeland P.D., who has turned them over to us.”

“I guess responsible journalism exists after all.”

He gave her a wry smile. She might have even returned it. Just a little.

She continued, expression again somber. “Sometimes we get the photo before we find the body. Sometimes we find the body first.”

“Kayla?”

“The photos arrived Saturday.”

He clenched his fists. It wasn't enough that the creep had to kill her. He'd furthered his thrill by photographing his work. Alan's jaw tightened. Whatever it took, he was going to catch this guy.

“So what can you tell me about these murders?”

“I don't know about Kayla, but with the other four, friends or family members have stated that they knew for a fact that the girls were home for the night and not planning to go back out.”

“Kayla, too.”

She looked at him sharply. “You're sure?”

“Positive. She was with me that evening. I dropped her off at her house at nine-thirty.”

Her eyes raked over him. “You were dating Kayla, too? You get around.”

The sarcasm in her tone stabbed at him. “No, it wasn't like that. She needed to buy a gift and conned me into driving her to Lakeland Square Mall.”

“Uh-huh.”

Her response was heavy with skepticism. So he dated a lot. Big deal. Single at thirty-two, he had gained the title of Harmony Grove's most eligible bachelor. But that wasn't saying much. There were only a handful of single guys his age.

At least he kept it casual. He wasn't out to break any hearts. His dates were more friendship than anything.

Several years ago he had been ready to commit. To Lexi. She had turned him down flat. In his naïveté, he had held out hope she would come around.

He should have seen the writing on the wall. When she'd insisted she didn't want to tie him down while she did her last two years of school out of state, he had believed her. And even though he'd been willing to wait, when she'd suggested they date other people, he had reluctantly agreed.