When a Heart Stops (11 page)

All nervousness fled Hunter's face as his eyes hardened with determination. “Let's do it.”

WEDNESDAY, 10:20 A.M.

Once they found the body, the cops would swarm the crime scene like ants on a discarded candy bar. Well, they could look all they wanted, but they'd never find what they were looking for.

HE always said cops were dumb.

And of course, HE'd been proven right. But sometimes cops got lucky. It might be best to tread carefully regardless.

Tension slithered through the killer as the prey came into sight. The hunt for the next player in the game was almost as exciting as the capture—and the kill.

Kelsey Nicholson exited the doctor's office.

Hunkering down in the backseat of Kelsey's Subaru, the killer popped the plastic cover off the needle.

Serena's nerves hopped as she pushed the half-finished cup of coffee aside. She was antsy, restless. And not just from all of the caffeine she'd inhaled over the last few hours. She still couldn't stop thinking about the fact that she'd been so close to kissing Dominic.

And the fact that she wouldn't mind an instant replay of the moment in the kitchen.

Minus the ringing doorbell and the package left on the porch and Dominic's mad dash into the night to chase after a possible killer and . . .

Focus. Focus. Focus.

She'd pulled the files on all of the victims of the Doll Maker Killer. All nine. Nine missing women. Ranging in age from twenty-two to thirty-eight. All Caucasian. All very pretty. All killed in Columbia, South Carolina, over a three-year period—1992 to 1995. And then the killings just stopped.

Or the killer started hiding the bodies instead of placing them where they could be found.

Nevertheless, all was silent for a year, then Drake Lindell was arrested after authorities received an anonymous tip, along with a picture of two of the victims alive and in the room the caller said needed to be searched. That had been enough to get a search warrant for a room below a shed on the man's property.

They'd searched the area and found more than enough evidence to put Drake away.

Serena took each of Lindell's victims' files and laid them on the counter space she'd cleared for this purpose. She wondered if these nine could possibly have any connection to the nine missing women mentioned at Dominic's house the other night. She made a note to ask.

“What are you doing?”

Serena turned to see Paul standing in the doorway. “Hey there.” She turned back to the files. “I was curious about something, so I'm looking for some answers.”

“We've got a light workload today. Want some help?”

“Possibly.” She waved him over. “Take a look at these. All of these girls were murdered by the same guy. His signature is all over the murders.”

“And?”

“And someone is copying him. But who? Who would have inside knowledge into how he worked? The details of the scenes?” She thought about everything she knew. “Was there any detail the cops didn't release to the media?”

“You're talking to yourself, aren't you?”

She jerked. “Yes.”

“Good, because I don't know any of the answers.” Paul picked up the nearest file. “Cause of death—gunshot to the forehead.”

“Right.”

“And he left a package with a doll in it,” he muttered.

“Right again. According to the authorities, the original Doll Maker Killer was indiscriminate about what the dolls looked like. This time around, we're not sure yet if the killer will use the dolls to represent his next victim.”

“What do you mean?”

“This new killer is taking a lot of the Doll Maker Killer's modus operandi and using them, but he's also coming into his own.”

“As a killer.”

“Unfortunately.”

“But there's only been one person killed,” Paul pointed out.

“We have one body,” Serena corrected. “One body and two dolls.” She told him about the special delivery Dominic had received last night. “The first doll looked like Leslie, with blue eyes and straight black hair. The doll found on Dominic's porch had curly brown hair and green eyes. But this time, unlike the original Doll Maker Killer, this killer didn't leave a body with the doll.”

“Sick.” Paul shook his head. “And I don't mean ‘sick' as in ‘awesome.' I mean that's just sick.”

Serena gave a short nod. “I know. Definitely a very twisted person.”

Her assistant nodded. “Right.” His frown deepened. “That's kind of scary, Serena.”

“Tell me about it. Rick brought up a good point. If the Doll
Maker Killer left a doll, there should be a body somewhere.” The more she thought about it, the more she knew that was right.

“So where's the body? The one that goes with Dominic's package.”

She sighed. “He could have killed her and buried her anywhere. We won't find her unless he wants us to.”

Paul's lips twisted. “You'll find it.”

“You sound awfully sure of that.”

“Well, think about it. Why leave the gifts if he's not going to give you the body? Isn't that the whole point?” He shook his head. “She'll turn up.”

Serena had a feeling he was right. “But this is another aberration. The original Doll Maker Killer never sent his packages ahead of time. They always came with the body. So, I don't think we can predict what this killer
will do
based on what the first killer
did
.”

Paul asked, “Where were all of these girls found? Were they spread out or in the same general area?”

“I don't know. I'm just getting ready to pull out the corkboard and a city map and make me a little diagram.”

Paul grinned at her. “Isn't that the cops' job?”

Serena lifted a brow at him. “Yes, and they're doing it, but I'm curious. I've hung around enough cops to know how this works.”

He set the file down. “I'll get the board for you.”

“Thanks.”

Five minutes later, she had her map pinned to the 3' × 5' corkboard and was ready to start using her pushpins.

A knock on the door interrupted her. She turned and looked to see Dominic standing there, watching her. “Hi.”

“Hey there.” He nodded at the board. “What are you up to?”

“Playing detective.”

One of his brows lifted. “Hmm. How's it working for you?”

“Well, I've only gotten started. You want to help?”

“Of course. I've played that game a time or two. Seem to have a knack for it, as a matter of fact.”

She smirked and handed him a file. “Funny. Dominic, meet Paul Hamilton, my assistant. Paul, meet FBI Special Agent Dominic Allen.” The two men shook hands. Dominic opened the file as Serena said, “Victim number one. Cori Hale.” She paused and looked at Paul. “Will you mark the victims' addresses on the wall map? I have some pushpins in the tray. Use the red ones if you don't mind.”

“Sure.” Paul snagged a few of the red pins.

Dominic read the information as Serena filled in the chart on the white board and Paul pinned the addresses. Dominic looked up at her and said, “You know we have computer software that will do this for us.”

“I know, but I don't have access to that and I'm a hands-on kind of girl. Humor me, will you?”

He smiled. “Of course.”

By the end of the ninth victim, Serena studied the map and frowned. “They're from all over the place.”

“No obvious pattern there,” Dominic murmured. “How about use a different color pushpin to mark the places where they were found.”

Serena nodded. “Good idea.”

“Got it,” Paul said.

Dominic started back with the first victim. Nine blue pushpins soon dotted the map.

“Where did the Lindells live?” Serena asked.

Dominic pulled out his iPhone and tapped a few keys. “Near the Five Points area.” He picked up a white pin and pressed it into the map. “Right about there.”

“You really think this is going to help anything?” Paul asked.

Serena lifted a brow at him. “I have no idea.” She stacked the files. “And you know Rick said there could be more. They just knew
about the nine.” She sighed and looked at their work. “So, we really might not have a complete picture of everything.”

“True.” Dominic nodded as he studied the map. “What if we connect the dots?”

“Well, that was the plan, but,” Serena frowned, “I'm not seeing a pattern here.”

“If we used the latest technology, it would be a simple matter of pressing a button. But if you want to do it the old-fashioned way, I'll need some string. You have some?”

“Yes.” She walked over to a metal drawer and pulled it open. “Kite string.”

“That'll work.” Dominic took it from her.

“Need some scissors?” Paul asked.

“Yep.”

For the next thirty minutes, the three of them did their best to come up with some kind of pattern linking the deaths. Dominic finally sighed. “I give up.” Lifting his iPhone, he snapped a picture of the map. “I'm going to give this to the geographic profiler and ask him to enter it into the computer. We'll see what he comes up with.”

Serena nodded. “Good idea. We're just wasting time here.” She studied the map. “Just one more thing.” She snagged two yellow pushpins. “Let's add Leslie to the map.” She pushed one into the area containing Leslie's address and one into the park where she'd been found.

Paul snagged a few more of the pins. “Might as well add Dominic's house.”

“What?”

He shrugged. “That's where you found the last package, right?”

Serena exchanged a glance with Dominic, who shrugged. “Why not? At this point, it's not a bad idea.”

“Are you sure the body isn't somewhere on your property?” Paul
mused. “Seems like all the bodies were found in close proximity to the package.”

Dominic shook his head. “We searched every square inch of that property last night. There's definitely no body there.”

Paul frowned, then shrugged.

Serena asked, “Was there any detail about the killings that the police didn't release to the media?”

Dominic pursed his lips. “Yeah. The fact that the killer cleaned them up.”

“And some of the victims had more than one bullet hole. I mean besides the one in the forehead.”

“Right. Some were in the shoulder, one was in the throat.”

“But always the upper torso.”

He gave a slow nod. “Yes. Why?”

“Just an observation. Leslie was the same way,” Serena said.

Dominic snapped several more pictures. “I'm going to start tracking down Drake Lindell's kids.”

“I want to go with you. When are you going and who are you going to talk to first?” Her heart thudded. That was out of the ordinary. The ME didn't usually go with the FBI agent while he investigated a case. But maybe Dominic would make an exception for her.

When he didn't immediately say no, her hopes rose. Spending more time with Dominic was definitely high on her want-to-do list.

She could get excited about that.

“Right now. And probably Nate, since he's the easiest one to find.”

Her hope deflated like a stuck balloon.

Work came first.

Serena did a quick mental inventory of her caseload for the rest of the day and winced. It was practically nonexistent. Like Paul said, she only had one, a hit-and-run victim. Another woman about her age.

And she was finished with her.

She would have her phone with her if they needed her. But the paperwork she still had . . .

“I can come if you don't mind. I may have to work a little later tonight, but I want to go with you.” She hardened her jaw. “By leaving that package on your porch, the killer's made this personal.”

“That's the way I feel about it.” His phone rang.

Serena helped Paul put the supplies away while Dominic put the phone to his ear. “Dominic here.” Silence while he listened. Then, “I'll be right there.”

At the grim tone, she turned. “What is it?”

“I think we've found the body that the doll from my porch belongs to.”

“Where is she?”

He swiped a hand over his eyes and looked at the multicolored pinned map, then at Paul. “In the storage shed in my backyard.”

WEDNESDAY, 11:58 A.M.

“I just came to borrow the lawn mower like you said I could, and when I opened up the door, there she was!” Mr. Eric White exclaimed with a wave of his wrinkled hand.

Dominic patted his seventy-year-old neighbor's shoulder to calm the man down, which was an effort considering his blood hummed through his own veins like a current out of control.

But he'd had a lot of practice hiding that. With confidence, he said, “It's all right, Mr. White. We'll take it from here.”

“But I don't understand.” Mr. White's red-rimmed blue eyes flashed his worry. “Why would she be sitting in your shed, dressed like she's going to a party?”

Dressed like she's going to a party?

Dominic's head snapped up and he shot a look at Serena. “Just like my doll?”

“Let's find out,” Serena said.

A uniformed officer took over questioning Mr. White while Dominic led the way to the shed. Another officer handed him a pair of blue booties to slip over his shoes. Serena took a pair too. He heard her snap on gloves, then felt her shove a pair into his left hand.

He gripped them, balling them in his fist. “She wasn't here
last night. This place was thoroughly searched after I found that package.”

“I know.” Serena's soft agreement echoed around him.

The sliding door was open, the light was on. And a young woman sat on the wooden bench he'd nailed to the wall to support himself when he worked on his hobby.

He built trains as a stress reliever. Loved to watch them come together and run around the track. The meticulous detail work let him push every other thought from his head.

Now the dead woman looked like she might snatch the rod of styrene he'd set out a couple of nights before and pick up where he left off.

Dominic stepped inside, careful to stay along the edge as he didn't want to disturb anything. He looked at the CSU team. “How long have you guys been here?”

“Just about three minutes,” one of them said.

Tyrone Johnson, his badge read. He introduced himself to the man, then pulled out his phone and texted Hunter the details. Then he sent a quick text to Katie, Chad, and Colton.

All but Colton would be here soon. Colton was involved in something related to the case and couldn't get away. He said he'd explain later.

Then Dominic sent a text to the rest of the task force to let them know about this latest development.

Serena stepped closer, looked at the floor around them, and shook her head. “She wasn't killed here.”

“Same as Leslie,” Dominic muttered.

“Yes.”

“Gunshot to the head?”

A sigh slipped from her. “Yes. I'll check for more wounds in a minute.” Serena knelt and looked all around the body without touching or moving her. “Look at her hands and fingers. No defense wounds there.”

“Anything under her nails?”

Serena picked up one hand and examined it. “Nothing. She's been thoroughly cleaned, just like Leslie.” Serena tested her shoulders. “Her upper body is stiff. Lower extremities are not. Taking in the fact that this building is air conditioned, her body temperature would drop pretty fast. She also has cloudy eyes and this happens around twelve hours after death. I'll be able to get a better time frame back at the lab, but I'd say twelve hours is a good estimate.”

She reached down and cut through the stocking. “Look. Lividity in her lower legs and fingertips. She died sitting up with her hands hanging down. It looks like he shot her and positioned her this way. At some point, he cleaned her up.”

“What a sicko,” Dominic muttered.

“Definitely.”

Serena leaned closer. “There's a bruise around her left ankle.”

“From a restraint?”

“Probably.” An odd look crossed her face and Dominic asked, “What is it?”

“She matches the doll sent to you.”

Dominic nodded. “I noticed that right off. She's even wearing the same clothes.”

She nodded.

“And yet there's another package.” The silver box with the bright red bow glared at him, as though daring him to open it to discover the secrets trapped inside. “I hope this doesn't mean there's another body to be found.”

A young woman stepped from the shadows, slipped an instrument into her bag, and said, “It's not a bomb.”

Serena shook her head. “No, he doesn't send bombs.”

Dominic looked at Tyrone. “Is Rick coming?”

The man shook his head. “He's got enough field coverage for now. He's at some conference learning about machines that can
see through walls.” Tyrone smirked. “I'm sure we'll hear all about it when he gets back.”

“I'll look forward to it,” Dominic muttered. He looked up from the package and asked Tyrone, “I want to open this here. Can you do it so we don't mess anything up as far as contaminating the evidence for court? I mean, assuming we get that far.”

“Can do. After all, there may be something in there that leads to another clue around here, something that would lead us to her killer, right?”

“Absolutely.” Dominic liked this guy. He spotted Mickey off to the side talking to one of the uniformed officers who'd been the first on the scene. “Hey, Mickey, did you get all the pictures you need for now?”

Mickey gave him a thumbs-up and went back to his conversation.

With a glance at Serena, who nodded her permission, Tyrone reached out his gloved hands and picked up the box. The dead woman's hand stayed rigid, but the box slipped easily out from under it.

Serena grabbed her bag and started the evidence-gathering process. She kept shooting glances at the victim's face and Dominic frowned. “What is it?”

“Just wondering about her. Who she is, where she's from, what kind of dreams she had for the future.” She paused and bit her lip. “She doesn't look familiar, but remember the note? He said it would be ‘someone you know.'” She looked up at him. “Do you know her?”

Dominic leaned in a little closer and took a good look. “No, I don't think so.”

A small sigh slipped out as she went back to work. Something more was going on inside her head.

“Come on, what is it?”

Serena shook her dark head. “Nothing.”

He laid a hand on her shoulder. “Something. Tell me.”

Her eyes met his. “I just . . .” She cast a glance around the scene,
at Tyrone who was taking the top off the box, and dropped her voice. “Do you ever get tired of it?”

Dominic didn't have to ask her what she meant. “Yes. I do. Then I catch another bad guy and realize I'm making a difference. That—and God—gives me the strength to keep going.”

A slight smile pulled at her lips. “It's funny how life has a way of spinning in a direction you never expected it to go.”

“What do you mean?”

The slight flush on her cheeks intrigued him.

“Well,” she drawled, “I sure never expected to be working on a case with Dominic Allen.”

Before he could respond to that interesting statement, Tyrone said, “Okay, folks, we've got a 4 × 6 index card with writing on it.”

Dominic and Serena turned their attention to the man.

“What's it say?” Dominic asked.

Tyrone read,“‘Eenie meenie miney moe. I have a mission, I have a plan, I'll finish it soon, you know I can. I left you one, I left you two. Three's the charm, this game's not new. Stay out of my way or it'll be the last thing you do.'”

“He's threatening
us
? Telling us to stay out of
his
way?” Serena said with a frown.

Dominic matched her frown. “Threats don't bother me. Him using my shed to send a message? Yeah. That bothers me. Leaving the doll on my porch? That too.” He rubbed his head, weariness rushing over him. Shaking it off, he wondered out loud, “He has a mission, a plan, but will finish it soon. Finish what? How many have to die before he's done?”

“‘The game's not new.' What does that mean?” she wondered aloud.

“He's played this game before? With the original Doll Maker Killer?”

Serena rubbed her nose and closed her eyes as she shook her head. “I can't wrap my mind around it all. He's just crazy.”

Dominic clicked his tongue and planted his hands on his hips. “Maybe.”

Serena opened her eyes and looked at him, brow raised. “Maybe?”

“I'm not saying it doesn't take a twisted person to do this kind of thing, but . . .” He shook his head. “He doesn't have to be crazy to kill. It could just all be a game for him. What if he's not really crazy? What if he just wants us to believe he is?”

“Then that's just even crazier.”

“Excuse me, I need to talk to you.” Chad's voice came from behind them.

The look on his face sent worry shooting through Dominic. “What is it?”

Chad pulled him outside the shed and said, “Stephanie was in a car wreck.”

Air punched from his lungs. Stephanie was Chad's ex-wife. “Is she all right? Was Michelle with her?” Six-year-old Michelle, Chad's daughter.

His face drawn, Chad nodded. “Yes, Michelle was with her, but she's fine, thank God. She came out without a scratch. But . . . ,” his voice hitched, “they don't think Steph's going to make it. I've got to go get Michelle and keep her until Stephanie . . . until we know . . . until—” his eyes filled and he turned away, clearing his throat. “I've got to go get her. Stephanie's mother has a heart condition and her dad's not in the picture. I've got to go.”

“Of course you do. Don't worry about this case. Get Michelle and do what you've got to do. Your mom and dad, Hunter, Alexia, they'll all help, you know.”

Chad nodded. “I know.” He man-hugged Dominic and turned to head toward his truck.

Dominic called after him, “Keep me updated.”

Chad lifted a hand in acknowledgment, climbed in his truck, and sped off.

Dominic returned to Serena, his heart heavy for his friend, but he knew he had to keep his head in the investigation.

She was still working. The coroner had arrived, ready to transport the body whenever she was finished. Officers still held the neighbors behind the tape.

The tip of Serena's tongue poked between her lips as she probed, took samples from skin, clothing, and everywhere she deemed necessary.

“Is Chad all right?”

“Not really.”

Serena stopped and looked up at him. “What's wrong?”

He told her and sympathy flared in her eyes. “I'm so sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Just pray,” he said softly. “Pray for Chad and Stephanie and for Hunter too. He's got enough on his plate dealing with Alexia's hunt for our father. And now this . . .” He shook his head.

With a nod and a frown, she went back to the victim. She also went back to their previous conversation. “I never would have thought you'd wind up catching bad guys for a living.”

Dominic forced thoughts of Chad, Michelle, and Stephanie to the back of his mind as he watched Serena, fascinated with her thoroughness. He gave a short laugh at her statement, though. “Yeah, well, at the age of seventeen, I wouldn't have thought it either.” He shuddered at his remembered youth. He'd been on the fast track to either prison or death when his arresting officer, Marcus Porter, stepped in and took the angry teen under his wing.

Thanks to Marcus and his wife, Dominic had learned that dads weren't supposed to beat their kids or drink until they passed out. Marcus and Rayleen had modeled what a Christ-centered marriage looked like. Sure, they had their disagreements, but they were also determined to work through them without violence or intimidation.

“Hey, you in there?” Serena's quiet question jerked him from his thoughts.

“Yes, yeah, sorry. Are you finished?”

“Almost.”

Dominic looked out of the shed to see Katie and Hunter working the crowd. Hunter caught his eye and broke away to walk over to Dominic. “I just got a text from Colton.”

“What is it?”

“Those nine pictures of the women in that file?”

“Yeah?”

“He's got some info he wants to share with us.”

Dominic frowned. “Like what?”

Hunter looked around. “You have a minute?”

“For this? Yeah.”

“All right. When Howard put that file together, he neglected to let anyone know what was in it.”

“Why?”

“He was taking payoffs.”

Dominic stilled. “From who?”

“We don't know. Yet. The money was very skillfully routed to a bank account in his name. Over $300,000 worth of payments since 1996.”

“That's the year Lindell was sent to prison.”

“I made that connection too.”

“What else?” From the corner of his eye, Dominic could see Serena talking to one of the CSU team members. The man smiled and leaned toward her, and Dominic found himself tensing up. He relaxed when Serena stepped back.

Hunter was saying, “So Bell knew more about the Doll Maker Killer than he was letting on.”

“Right. We already figured that out the day we talked to him. So, what was he taking money for? Did he gamble?” He glanced
sideways at Serena again. She'd moved away from the man and Dominic breathed easier.

“No. His wife was dying from Alzheimer's. Medical bills were eating them alive. Then all of a sudden, the bills started being paid. Howard moved his wife to a high-dollar assisted living home and the search for the killer came to a screeching halt.”

“This doesn't make sense. If Howard was covering up and taking payoffs, why would they start in 1996? If Howard had figured out who the killer was, confronted him, then cut a deal, wouldn't that have started prior to Lindell's arrest? Isn't that the whole point of paying off a cop? So you
don't
get caught and go to prison?”