Obsession (11 page)

He was familiar with the Korden case. A small bomb had detonated during Joslyn Korden’s photo shoot ten days earlier. Joslyn had gone into hiding following the incident, and her body had recently been discovered. Since the FBI believed she was the victim of a serial killer, only the investigation into the bombing had remained under LAPD control. Now Dan found himself wondering if the Korden case and the Blake case could be related.

No one was hurt when the small bomb detonated in a storage room while Joslyn’s photo shoot was going on. The explosion at Kendra Blake’s concert certainly hadn’t been intended to hurt people en masse. Could these bombs have both been intended to scare these women? Were they some kind of initial step in this serial killer’s ritual? And could this man sitting before him have had anything to do with the six women who had already been slain?

His pulse kicked up a notch, and he had to force himself to stay calm as he settled into his chair and opened his file. As though he didn’t have any place better to be, he drew a pen from his pocket and shifted his notes in front of him. “It says here that you were on stage when the explosion went off backstage at Kendra Blake’s concert.”

“That’s right.”

“What about before the concert?” he asked. “Did you notice anything unusual?”

Zack shrugged a shoulder. “Kendra seemed kind of nervous before the show, but other than that, I didn’t notice anything.”

Dan stared at him, his face carefully expressionless. Then he looked down at his files. “Were you on stage for the whole concert?”

“Yeah.”

Dan’s eyebrows drew together. “That’s interesting. Two of your fellow dancers mentioned that you disappeared for a few minutes between numbers.”

“Just for a few seconds. I went to the bathroom during one of our off numbers.” He sat up a little straighter.

“So you had just enough time to knock Kendra Blake’s bodyguard unconscious and set a bomb backstage.”

The muscle in Zack’s jaw jumped. “That’s crazy! I didn’t have anything to do with that. I would never try to hurt Kendra.”

“Well, Zack, as much as I’d like to believe you, you’re the only name that’s come up at both crime scenes,” he improvised. He scratched his chin as though considering. “Makes me wonder if it’s just a coincidence or if you have something to do with all of this.”

“I already told that other detective that I wasn’t anywhere near the studio that day. And there were a lot of people around when I left the night before.”

“Tell me about what happened at the studio.”

“There really isn’t much to tell. I worked at Grant Photography for a few months as a photography assistant until I got the gig with Kendra Blake,” Zack told him. “Grant was shorthanded for Joslyn’s photo shoot, and he knew I was in town for the Grammys, so he called and asked if I would work it.”

“Did you work it?”

Zack shook his head. “I helped set up the day before, but I had to be at rehearsals and sound checks on the day of the shoot, so I couldn’t be there.”

“I see.” Dan considered this newest information. If the two bombings were connected, then it would be easy enough to confirm that Zack had been at rehearsals during Joslyn’s photo shoot like he said he’d been. He shuffled his notes back into the file and stood up. “I’ll need to talk to a few people so I can corroborate your story.”

“I’m telling you the truth,” Zack insisted. “I didn’t have anything to do with any of this.”

“I hope not, for your sake.” With that, Dan turned and left the room.

* * *

Charlie’s cell phone rang the moment he walked into his cabin. He checked the caller ID, unsurprised to find an FBI prefix displayed. “Whitmore.”

“Charlie, I’m afraid we’ve had some new developments,” Elias said in a brisk tone.

“What’s going on?”

“We’re still looking into it, but a detective with LAPD thinks he uncovered a link between Joslyn Korden and Kendra Blake.”

Charlie’s blood ran cold as he thought of how Joslyn Korden had died. “What kind of link?”

“A few days before Joslyn’s murder, a small bomb exploded during her photo shoot.”

“You think it’s the same person who set the bomb at Kendra’s concert?” Charlie managed to ask as he lowered himself onto the couch.

“Our analysts are helping the LAPD go over the forensics reports right now, but the preliminary findings suggest that both bombs may have been set by the same person,” Elias told him. “If that’s the case . . .”

Dread settled in the pit of Charlie’s stomach. “You think the Malibu Stalker might be after Kendra.”

“It’s possible,” Elias told him. “The bombing is unique to Joslyn Korden. None of the other victims had anything similar happen to them before they were killed. We don’t know if the serial killer changed his MO for some reason or if Joslyn’s murder and the bombing are completely unrelated.”

“Joslyn’s also the only high-profile victim. Maybe the bomb was set to rattle her somehow,” Charlie commented. “If that’s the case, he could be using the same tactic on Kendra.”

“Maybe. We know that Joslyn went into hiding after the bombing.” Elias hesitated for a moment. “You realize that if we’re right, Kendra obviously doesn’t understand what she’s dealing with.”

“Maybe it’s time she learns. If she knows how serious this threat is, she might agree to a full protection detail.”

“I don’t want to take the chance that she’ll get spooked and take off.”

“Where would she go?” Charlie asked, glancing at the snow still falling outside. “Her car’s stuck, and there’s no way she’s getting out of here without help.”

“And it would only take one call to her father to get whatever help she might need,” Elias reminded him. “From what William Blake has told me, Sterling isn’t very happy about being kept out of the loop.”

“He doesn’t know where she is?”

“He knows she’s in protective custody, but he doesn’t know where,” Elias told him. “We’ve gone over the security that was backstage at the concert, and we’ve had a chance to talk to her bodyguard, who was injured. All the evidence is pointing in the same direction. It’s very possible that whoever set the explosive is someone she knows.”

“But you just said you think a serial killer may be behind this.”

“We’re still considering all possibilities,” Elias said. “Including the possibility that the Malibu Stalker takes the time to gain the trust of his victims before he kills them.”

“I was actually wondering if that was the case. None of the victims’ homes showed any sign of forced entry,” Charlie mused, “and that would also explain why there’s so much time between murders.”

“Exactly,” Elias agreed. “There doesn’t seem to be any specific pattern of when the murders take place, but there are usually at least a couple of months between them, which brings us back to the possibility that the killer takes time to get to know his victims.”

Charlie considered this newest information, an unsettled feeling churning through him. He needed to help Kendra understand the danger, but how could he do so without spooking her? Could he explain that if she returned to her normal life, she could be running right into the arms of a murderer?

“What if I tell Kendra that I saw articles online about the Malibu Stalker? I could let her know what she’s dealing with without saying I’m FBI. It might make her reconsider letting us protect her.”

“I don’t know, Charlie. She still might get spooked and try to run home to her family,” Elias cautioned.

“Unless she can’t call home,” Charlie said, thinking of her cell phone still sitting inside her car. “Her phone’s in her car. I can go get it; make sure she doesn’t try to contact anyone without me knowing about it. Neither of our cabins has a landline.”

“That’s probably not a bad idea, no matter what you tell her. How’s the weather up there anyway?”

“Another storm front’s over us right now. There’re already two feet of snow on the ground, and it looks like we’re about to get a few more inches,” Charlie told him. “Even I would have to work at it to get out of here.”

“Are you okay on supplies?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Charlie nodded. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow, after I talk to Kendra.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Charlie said, already planning his next encounter with Kendra.

* * *

Kendra stared at the open novel without reading a word. Her mind wasn’t on the latest murder mystery she’d brought with her. Rather, it was on the man across the street—the man who was quickly consuming all of her thoughts.

It was silly, really. She hardly knew Charlie Whitmore and now, after only two days, she couldn’t stop thinking about him.
How much more cliché can this get
, she asked herself. Girl runs away to the woods to get away from life. She meets a handsome stranger and falls in love. Not that she was in love with Charlie or anything, but the word
handsome
certainly fit him. The fact that he was also LDS was certainly an added bonus.

For a moment, she let herself wonder what it would be like to date someone who had the same religion she did. Then she immediately realized that she barely knew what it was like to date at all. Still, the romantic in her dreamed that some day she would fall in love with someone who could take her to the temple. Someone who would give her the gift of love and friendship and show her what it was like to have the priesthood in her home.

Kendra shook her head and tried to bring herself back to reality. This wasn’t the time or the place to start a relationship, and she definitely wasn’t looking for one right now. She had work to do, music to write, before her manager pushed her back out on tour.

The spring awards season would be heating up soon, and that meant fittings and rehearsals, public appearances, and radio interviews. She didn’t know if she’d be able to fit it all in, especially when she wasn’t sure who had set off the bomb at her concert, and more importantly, why.

All she knew for sure was that security would be oppressive when she went back. Her chest tightened at the thought—the inevitable increase in bodyguards and the decrease in privacy.

She set her book aside and reached for her guitar. Leaning back comfortably on the loveseat, she strummed a few notes. She didn’t think about what she was playing. She just let the music come, let it take her wherever it wanted to go. When words started echoing through her mind to meld with the music, she reached for a pencil and paper and scribbled a few notes down.

An hour passed by unnoticed and then two. Her fingers shifted over the strings, her voice stroking over the words she’d written. When at last she was satisfied, she read through the words once again. She wasn’t surprised to find she had written a song about hope and friendship, a song about searching for love.

* * *

His feet were freezing despite the two pairs of wool socks he wore under his snow boots. Charlie had walked to where Kendra’s car was parked shortly after the sun came up in the hopes that he could secure her cell phone before she was up and around. After hearing her play her guitar late into the night, he imagined she would sleep through most of the morning.

The task of breaking into Kendra’s car hadn’t gone as smoothly as he had originally hoped. It had taken him twenty minutes of fighting with the lock before he’d managed to pop open the trunk. Picking locks had seemed so much easier at Quantico when he’d taken the class at the FBI Academy.

Regardless of the time it had taken him, he now had Kendra’s cell phone in his pocket, and her car was locked up tight as though no one had ever been there. Unfortunately, if Kendra decided to go search her car herself for her missing phone, the evidence would be right in front of her in the form of his footprints. As much as he hated it, the deep snow made it impossible to go anywhere without leaving a trail, especially now that the storm had passed and there wasn’t any fresh powder to hide where he’d been.

He turned the corner and looked down the street. Even from this distance, he could see the trail that he and Kendra had created between their cabins. If anyone did manage to locate the Blake cabins, it wouldn’t take long to realize that someone had been coming and going from both of them.

Charlie stared at the footprints, trying to retrace his steps as he headed back to his cabin. On the way, he noticed another cabin on the side of the road, its yard and porch hidden under the untouched blanket of snow, a pickup truck parked in the driveway.

Curious as to who might be staying there, he looked up at the chimney only to see that there wasn’t any evidence of a fire inside. There also weren’t any lights on. For a moment, he wondered why a vehicle would be up here if no one was home. Puzzled, he moved closer and brushed some of the snow away. Underneath was a protective cover draped over the truck. Apparently, the owner only used the vehicle when he was vacationing in the mountains.

With a sudden flash of inspiration, Charlie brushed the snow off the vehicle so it would look like it had been used recently. Then he continued up the driveway and onto the porch of the cabin. After kicking some of the snow away from the front door, he walked back through the yard. He continued on to the next cabin and repeated the process. One by one, Charlie left deliberate footprints and signs of life at each cabin on the street before finally doubling back to his own.

He climbed up onto his front porch and looked down the street, pleased with the results. Now, except for the smoke coming from the chimney, it looked like all of the cabins on the street had people staying in them. In fact, the spot where Charlie had parked his SUV was actually just as close to the cabin next door as it was to his.

Charlie moved inside to thaw out. The wood stove gave off enough heat to warm the whole cabin, but Charlie immediately moved closer to it. He shrugged off his outer clothing, laying his gloves and socks on the bricks beneath the wood stove so they could dry.

When he looked out the window to see if there were any signs of life at Kendra’s place, he noticed a light snow beginning to fall. Apparently, the storm wasn’t over yet.

Kendra wrapped both hands around her cup of hot chocolate, reveling in the warmth of the steam rising from it and the rich scent. She blew lightly on the dark liquid before taking her first sip. She smiled as the heat seeped through her, and she carried the mug with her to sit by the fire.