But on the other hand, she had so much to be grateful for. This nightmare was finally over.
When they pulled into Kayla’s driveway, they both sat in the car for a minute in silence. Finally Madison turned to Brody. “Thank you for everything.”
“I’m just glad that you’re finally safe again.”
She nodded uncertainly before finally putting her hand on the door handle. “Me, too. I guess I’ll be seeing you around.”
“Let me just walk you inside.” He shrugged. “Just to be a gentleman.”
They slowly walked side by side to the front door. Even though it was already past six o’clock, Madison knew that Kayla had taken Lincoln to the park. Kayla had been such a godsend during this whole ordeal, and Madison was thankful that her friend had helped pick up the slack some. Now Madison would be able to resume her normal routine again, which meant spending more time with Lincoln.
Madison unlocked the door, unusually aware of Brody behind her. Why did she suddenly feel flustered? The emotion made no sense. When she opened the front door, Brody stepped inside behind her. Madison turned, ready to say goodbye.
The words caught in her throat, however.
Something ticked in the background.
TWELVE
“S
tay where you are, Madison.” Brody pulled his gun out.
Madison nodded, appearing glued to the spot whether she liked it or not. Her face went pale and her hands gripped the chair molding against the wall.
Brody inched forward, crept toward the sound.
Tick, tick, tick, tick.
The killer couldn’t have come back. He was dead—wasn’t he? As Brody skulked down the hallway, the ticking became louder. The sound pulsated in time with his heartbeat.
He paused by the door to the room where Lincoln slept. The ticking appeared to be coming from there. Brody put one hand on the knob and slowly turned, keeping his other hand poised on the gun.
The sound, now louder, clearer, was definitely coming from this room.
Brody’s gaze scanned his surroundings. He saw nothing. Just a messy bed, some strewn clothes and a pile of toys.
His gaze searched for a white egg timer along the surfaces—the dresser, the window sill, the bedpost. Nothing stood out.
He inched along the wall, listening for any telltale sounds of an intruder while trying to find the timer. The ticking was loudest in the corner, amidst a pile of toys and stuffed animals. He kicked a few out of the way. Had the killer buried the egg timer in the middle of this mess?
He didn’t see one. One of the toys caught his eyes, though. After one more swipe around the room, he bent down and picked up a dragon. He didn’t know whether to chuckle or groan. The ticking had been coming from the toy the whole time.
He kept the dragon in his hand as he went to find Madison. As he rounded to the corner toward the entryway, Brody saw that she was still pressed up against the wall, anticipation seemingly freezing each of her muscles.
He held up the dragon. “Just a toy.”
Immediately her body slacked. She shook her head. “Lincoln’s dragon. I should have known.” She let out an airy laugh and pinched the skin between her eyes. “Wow, am I paranoid or what?”
“Not paranoid. Just cautious. There is a difference.”
The two of them stared at each other another moment. What else was there to say? The case was over and effectively so was their reason to spend any time together. Why did he feel saddened by the thought? And why did he still feel suspicious that the case wasn’t truly over?
The conclusion that Alfred was the killer still seemed too easy. Brody was going to keep investigating, even if he had to do it on his own time. He couldn’t rest until he was completely sure that Madison and little Lincoln were in no danger.
Madison tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and offered a tight smile. “Well…I guess this is it.”
He shuffled his feet, feeling a bit like a schoolboy with a crush at the moment. “I guess it is.”
“Thanks for everything you’ve done. I wouldn’t have…” She bit her lip a moment in thought. “I wouldn’t have survived without you. Literally.”
He stepped forward to leave. Or did he do it to be closer to Madison? At once, the scent of fruity perfume filled his senses. “I’m glad I could help.”
Her cheeks turned rosy a moment until finally she moved aside and cleared her throat. “I’ll see you around.”
He nodded resolutely, breaking from his daze. He cared about Madison. He knew he shouldn’t, but he did. “Right. I’ll see you.” He gave her one last glance before putting his hand on the doorknob. He made sure he twisted the lock in place before he shut the door behind him.
Why did he feel like he was walking away from a piece of his heart?
* * *
Madison leaned against the door after Brody left. Her pulse raced out of control. Was it because she’d seen something in Brody’s eyes that made her wonder if he was developing feelings for her? Or was it because for the first time since the incident, she was alone? Her heartbeat filled her ears and her throat went dry even thinking about moving from the door.
Madison found it hard to believe that this was truly over and that she was able to return to real life again. Why was her guard still up, then? If Alfred was the bad guy, why did she still feel frightened? She supposed it would take some time to get over everything that had happened to her. She needed to accept that instead of continually fighting it.
She needed to stay at Kayla’s tonight, she decided. She wasn’t quite ready to return to her house again, though she knew that Lincoln was. She’d work up to it and hopefully, in a couple more days, she’d be ready to face the place where her nightmare had occurred.
Alfred—how could Alfred have been behind all of this? Sure, he had a criminal record and he’d always been a little strange and kept to himself. But a killer? It just didn’t make sense to Madison.
She closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the door.
Faith, not fear. That was the lesson she’d heard whispered to her lately. She couldn’t make decisions based on her own fears and worries. Instead, she had to live by faith that God was going to take care of her. Though this situation seemed impossible, she had to trust that God was still in control and that He still had a plan. Why was it so much easier said than done sometimes?
Lord, I can’t get rid of this fear on my own. Help me to trust You.
Thankfully at that moment she heard a car door slam outside and the sound of little Lincoln giggling as he raced to the door. She smiled. Was he finally safe again? She prayed he was.
* * *
The next morning Brody found himself thinking about Madison again and wondering what she was doing. Brody was sure she was probably excited to get back into work and put this whole experience behind her. She’d probably never want to see him again and be reminded of everything that had happened, for that matter. He couldn’t blame her.
Brody decided to go back to Alfred’s house again. He wanted to survey the scene himself. Something just didn’t feel right to him. It was like all the clues were laid out too perfectly. Someone who’d been that careful when planning his crimes wouldn’t leave all the evidence of his guilt out in plain sight. But all Brody had to go on was a gut feeling. Was there any evidence they’d missed that might back up his claim?
Alfred’s house was a small brick ranch that was overrun with bushes and trees around the perimeter. One could barely see the place through the foliage. The inside was equally as cluttered.
Brody stood in the middle of the living room and let his gaze circle it. This was the place where they’d found the noose, the pictures, razors, the rough draft of the letters. They were such simple items, items that could have been hidden in a trunk or a dresser drawer. Why would he leave them out the way he did? Something just didn’t fit.
Brody flipped through various items in the house. Old magazines, bottles with miniature boats inside, discarded fast-food wrappers. He found nothing to give him insight into the case.
A light knock sounded at the door. Brody glanced over and saw a middle-age woman there, a worried expression showing in the lines around her eyes. Brody motioned her to come in.
“I’m Alfred’s neighbor,” she introduced herself. “I’ve heard about everything happening in town, about the murders. I also heard that people are saying Alfred was behind them. Rumors are that the killer made it look like suicide. I heard he used a noose on one of his victims.”
“I can’t confirm anything right now, ma’am.”
“I’ve been his neighbor for twenty years.” She rubbed her hands together, as if nervous. “I keep thinking about the allegations against Alfred, and I felt like I needed to say something.”
“Okay.”
“You see those boats in the bottles over there?”
Brody nodded, wondering what she was getting at. “Yes.”
“Alfred did those himself. It used to be his hobby. But over the past five years his arthritis got bad—really bad. He could hardly even handle giving people change at the register at his store.”
“What are you getting at?” he asked curiously.
“If the rumors are true, Detective, and one of the victims had a noose around her neck, Alfred couldn’t have done it. He couldn’t have tied those knots, not with his hands being in the condition they were.”
Brody had a feeling he’d just found the proof he needed that Alfred wasn’t their man.
But now he needed to find Madison. She was still in danger.
* * *
Madison knocked on the weathered door of the old boathouse. “Hello?”
No answer. She looked at the paper again. This was the right address. She was supposed to meet a fisherman named Jonas Johnson and take a photo for an exhibit at a local museum. This was a great opportunity for her career, and in the previous weeks before this upheaval in her life, she’d enjoyed capturing photos of locals with their weathered faces and eyes that had seen far more than Madison had in her nearly thirty years. Although it still felt surreal that the danger of the Suicide Bandit was behind her, she’d decided to face life again. She had to get on with her assignments. This was one photo shoot that she was supposed to have turned in yesterday. She’d called Mr. Johnson last night and arranged to come out today, however. She thanked God for people’s grace. No doubt he had heard about what had happened to her, as had everyone else in town.
The sun beat down on her and caused a sharp glare off of the waters of the bay. Madison glanced once again at the boathouse. This one was larger than most, situated at the end of a long pier. On one side of the weathered pier was a room where Madison assumed they kept supplies for boating. On the other side appeared, according to the sign on the door, to be a game room. The space was probably the equivalent of a man cave for these fishermen, a place where they could get away from their wives and have a moment to cut loose with their peers.
Madison knocked again. “Mr. Johnson? It’s Madison. Are you there?”
She twisted the door handle and it opened. She peered inside. The dark room had drawn shades and smelled musty, like no one had been in there for a while. Maybe it was too hot outside to even use the game room right now.
“I’m back here!” a man yelled.
Madison’s eyes darted through the room. Two other doors were inside the room, perhaps to a bathroom or a kitchenette.
Madison sucked in a breath before stepping inside farther. Her attacker was dead, she reminded herself. The nightmare was over. Now she needed to start living without paranoia.
“Come on back!”
She stepped toward one of the doors in the distance. She gripped her camera, trying to calm her racing heart as she dismissed the sudden sweat across her brow, chiding herself for acting irrationally.
As soon as she stepped away from the door, it slammed shut behind her. Total darkness encased her and panic began quivering in her gut before growing into an all-out flail through her entire body. She sucked in a breath and scrambled backward, desperate to find the door frame through darkness so thick it seemed material.
“What are you doing, Madison? You just got here. Why are you in such a hurry to leave?”
The voice caused imaginary bugs to scurry all over Madison’s skin.
Her attacker.
He wasn’t dead. He was alive, and he was in the room with her.
She tried to back away from the voice, but at once she couldn’t figure out where it had come from. Suddenly she lost her sense of direction, couldn’t figure out which was way was out or in.
“You’re dead. You’re supposed to be dead.”
“You weren’t really naive enough to believe that, were you? Our little game is just beginning, Madison.”
“Why? Why me? Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
“Because you’re my connection to Brody.”
“Brody? What’s he have to do with this? Besides, he’s just my neighbor. That’s my only connection.”
“But you look just like Lindsey.”
“Who’s Lindsey?”
“Ask him.”
Ask him? Did that mean she’d get out of here alive? “I will. I’ll ask him.”
The man chuckled. “You really have no clue, do you?”
“I guess I don’t. Why not just go directly to Brody? Why go through me?”
“To hurt him.” The man’s voice seemed to come from the other side of the room. Madison twirled, trying to locate the monster before he lunged.
“Hurting me doesn’t hurt him.”
“That’s what you think. Brody’s got to learn a lesson. He’s got to learn to stop hurting people.”
Keep him talking, Madison thought urgently. “How has he hurt people?”
“He’s hurt people badly. Thinks only of himself, not of how his actions will affect others.” Again the man’s voice moved behind her. Madison felt like the whole room was spinning. She pinched between her eyes, trying to get a grip on reality, to stay in control.
Madison had a hard time thinking of Brody fitting that description. But now wasn’t the time to argue with this man.
“What do you want me to do? I really don’t understand.” She backed up, trying to feel for something to use as a weapon, something to help her protect herself.