When a Heart Stops (12 page)

Hunter frowned right along with Dominic. “I know. The timing doesn't make a lot of sense.”

“Why start paying a cop off
after
you've been arrested?”

“To buy fake testimony at the trial?”

Dominic shook his head. “Maybe. But Howard testified that they'd definitely arrested the right guy and provided the evidence to prove it, so the money wasn't to buy his silence.”

“Maybe not on that score, but what about something else?”

“Like what?”

“Silence about a partner?”

“Lindell didn't want anyone to know someone was working with him?” Dominic nodded. “Okay, that makes sense. But who?”

“I don't have the answer to that one. However, the nine girls in those photos? They each had a best friend.”

Dominic stilled as his mind jumped ahead. “Let me guess. Each of the victims that were found.”

“Yep.”

“And those other nine girls? They're still missing?”

“They are.”

“So Howard was covering up information about nine missing girls linked to the victims that were found.”

“Exactly.”

“Then we need to put all this together and figure out why he would do that.”

Hunter nodded. “And why would his partner go along with it when there was nothing in it for him?”

“Did you check Billy McGrath's bank records?”

“Sure did. No sign that he was taking payoffs.”

Rubbing his chin, Dominic thought as Serena consulted with Tyrone once again. “Howard could have been giving him his cut on the side.”

“Well, if he was, it was cash and the man stashed it in his mattress because there's nothing on his bank records.”

“We've got to find this killer,” Dominic said.

“I know.”

“Because he probably already has his next victim picked out.”

Frank watched his wife button her blouse, straighten her collar, and slick back a nonexistent stray hair. She'd just changed from her navy blue suit, white shirt, and matching navy pumps. She turned and drilled him with her gaze. “It didn't take long for your numbers to slip.”

“I know.”

“It was that comment you made about abortion.” Ice down his back would have been warmer.

“Elizabeth, you know where I stand on that issue. Everyone knows where I stand on that issue.”

She snorted. “You know how to play both sides. What made you say such a stupid thing?”

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. In his stressed state, he'd made a blunder. One that might hurt him terribly. At the reporter's question, Frank had bristled, let his tight control slip. “That's not what I'm here to discuss. Why does my stance on abortion matter today when we're talking about capital punishment?”

Wrong thing to say.

The temperature had dropped considerably as the stunned audience stared before whispering behind their hands. Even his wide smile and attempt to smooth over the awkward moment with a joke didn't thaw the chill in the room.

Elizabeth walked past him without looking at him. “I'm going shopping. Ian will be taking me.”

Frank sighed. He went after her and caught her arm before she reached the door. Turning her to him, he said, “There are things you don't know. Things I'm trying to take care of—” He broke off. Things she didn't need to know. “I'm under a lot of stress right now. I'm sorry, Elizabeth.”

Her ice melted a few degrees. “Me too, Frank.”

And then she was gone.

WEDNESDAY, 7:00 P.M.

Serena would be home soon. Watching the house over the last several weeks had proven interesting . . . and frustrating. Serena really had no set schedule. She came and went at all hours, and just when it looked like she might be in for the night, she left again.

How did one learn the routine of someone who didn't have one?

This would take some more thought. Serena could wait for now.

Lights flashed in the rearview mirror. What was
he
doing here?

This cat-and-mouse game was rather fun. Having him show up at the strangest time was interesting—and annoying. What was his plan? Asking him was out of the question. For now. Right now, there was a mission to accomplish and the mission had to come first.

Which meant, right now it was time to find another toy.

Serena stopped in her driveway and opened her garage door. She watched a nondescript blue sedan pull away from the curb a few doors down. Had she noticed that vehicle before? Seemed like she had. Maybe one of her neighbors had gotten a new car?

She shrugged. Then turned back to watch it drive away. With all
the weird things happening to her and Dominic, though, maybe she should pay more attention to her surroundings.

Serena shivered although the sun peeked through the dark clouds overhead. She still had about two hours of sunlight left and she planned to use them to work in her small garden out back—if it didn't rain.

Or should she stay in the house? The image of the first doll left by the killer wouldn't leave her. And while it looked an awful lot like Leslie, it occurred to her that it could pass for her too.

She looked to the sky as though she could see straight into heaven by doing so. “I need your help, Lord. I feel like I'm spinning my wheels. Help me leave work behind and take a break from it. I'm weary and really need to recharge.”

She pulled into the garage and closed the door behind her, then looked over at her boat. She hadn't used it all summer. Sadness hit her. It seemed all she did lately was work.

Maybe she should invite someone to take a spin around the lake this weekend.

Dominic's handsome face immediately came to mind and she grinned. Yeah, maybe she should do that. Then she frowned as she remembered Lyle Ames. The man she thought she'd marry. The man who'd wanted her to be someone else. She shook her head. Where had her judgment been?

But Lyle had been so different from her father. Or so she'd thought. Not that she really had anything against her father, except the fact that he'd never been home. Never had time for anything she was interested in. He'd been passionate about his work at the law office and she'd been passionate about school and her friends.

And yet, she loved her father. Very much. She looked up to him and admired what he did.

But she didn't want to marry a man like him.

So why was she so attracted to Dominic? A man who seemed
to be very much like her father when it came to being in control and thinking he knew best about almost everything.

She sighed and let out a small groan.

Maybe she was wrong.

She felt her muscles relax a little. She pulled out her phone and sent Dominic a text, asking if he'd like to join her on the lake Saturday. Just for a couple of hours. They needed a break.

She felt slightly guilty even thinking about going out and having a good time, because she felt quite sure the killer wasn't taking time off. But if the ones chasing him burned out, what good were they going to be to the investigation?

Walking into the den area, Serena felt peace wash over her. Even though someone had breached her security system, with the added features and a new code, she felt safe in her home once again.

Yoda nudged her hand and she gave her silky ears a scratch. Moving to the window, she looked out into her backyard. The garden took up the right-hand corner.

The sky darkened and thunder rumbled.

“Well, Yoda, I don't think we'll be pulling weeds this evening.”

Yoda padded to her bed in front of the fireplace and settled on it, never taking her big brown eyes from Serena's face. She smiled. “Okay, we'll read a book.”

She walked to the bookshelf, her mind still on the events of the day. A gentle rain began pattering against the window as she considered her options.

Her doorbell rang and she spun. “Who . . .” Uneasiness slithered through her. She walked to the front door and peeked through the side window.

Camille.

Serena cut the alarm off and opened the door. “Hey, get in here out of the rain. What are you doing here?”

Camille swiped water from her eyes and stepped inside the foyer.
She looked pale and drawn, her teeth chattering in spite of the warmth of the evening.

“I went home to get some things. I thought my dad would be working. But he got home earlier than I—” She shrugged and tears welled up. She blinked them back and set her jaw. “You might say he's still not happy with me.”

“Come on in the den. How wet are you?”

“Not too bad.” She shook her head and a few raindrops flew from her short blond strands.

Serena shut the door and pulled the girl into the den. “Have a seat. You need a towel?”

Camille sat and twisted her fingers together in front of her. “No, I'm okay. I'm sorry. I probably shouldn't have just shown up here.”

“It's all right,” Serena reassured her. “But the best place for you is Covenant House.”

Camille dropped her eyes. “Maybe. I just didn't feel like being surrounded by a bunch of girls right now.”

So she'd sought out Serena. “What do you want me to do, darling?”

Shaking her head, Camille swiped at a stray tear. “There's nothing you can do. I just . . . miss my mom,” she whispered. “And I think you remind me of her a little bit.”

Serena's heart clenched. “I'm so sorry.”

Camille swallowed hard and shrugged. “It is what it is.” She sniffed. “But what's really hard is that I didn't just lose my mom that day, I lost my dad too. He changed overnight. It's like he hates me because I survived the wreck and she died.”

Serena didn't bother to try to offer reassurances. She'd only met the man one time and noticed how he could barely stand to look at Camille. “Do you look like your mom?”

“Yeah. I know that's part of the problem. I'm a daily reminder of what he lost.”

“Instead of a daily reminder to be thankful for what he has,” Serena murmured.

At her words, Camille broke down. Sobs wrenched from the girl's throat and all Serena could do was hold her.

Pounding on her front door caused them both to jerk. Camille shot to her feet and Serena followed.

“Oh no! That's my dad. He must have followed me. He's going to kill me for coming here.”

Alarmed at the words, Serena grabbed Camille's arm. “Has he ever hit you?”

“No, but . . .”

That didn't mean there wouldn't be a first time.

Serena thought about the gun in her end table as she walked to the front door, forcing a calm she didn't feel. “Who is it?”

“You got my girl in there!” Fists beat against her door.

“Mr. Nash, stop pounding on my door, please. You're scaring us.”

Camille cringed to the side.

The racket ceased, but Serena kept a hand wrapped around her cell phone just in case. “Now, before I open the door, would you please tell me why you're so angry?”

“You're stealing my kid!”

“I'm doing no such thing. Camille just came for a visit—”

Camille reached around her and opened the door before Serena could stop her. “I just came to talk to her, Dad.”

Red-faced, unshaven, with rage still glittering in his eyes, the man before them snarled his disbelief. “You're going to leave me too, aren't you? Just like your mother.”

“Dad, you told me to leave!”

“My presence. Not the house. Now come on.” His rough hand reached out to snag his daughter's wrist, but Serena stepped in between them before he could get a good grasp. He lurched back in surprise, uttered a few choice words, and glowered at her. But he didn't come at her or make her feel like he planned to attack her.

“Don't manhandle her.” Serena kept her voice low and even. “Please. She needs your help, not your anger.”

He paused and narrowed his eyes. Serena shuddered at the look in them. “You telling me how to raise my kid?”

“No sir, I'm telling you . . .” Serena stopped. She didn't want to make things worse for Camille. “No. I'm not.”

“I didn't think so,” he growled. Then he turned his attention back to Camille. “Get home. Now.”

Camille slid around Serena with an apologetic—and fearful—look. “I'm just going to go now.”

“You can stay here,” Serena blurted.

“No, she can't,” he answered for Camille and shot both of them a threatening glare.

He started to walk away and Serena whispered to Camille, “You call me if you need me. Or 9-1-1, you understand?”

The girl nodded, then was gone with her father. A father who was so lost in his grief and bitterness that he couldn't see the damage he was doing to his child. A child who'd gone looking for some love and affection and found herself pregnant.

Serena's heart broke for both of them as she shut the door and rearmed the alarm. What could she do? What
should
she do?

Should she call the police? And tell them what? She was afraid a father was going to hurt his daughter, but wasn't sure?

Right. That would go over well.

Finally, after thirty minutes of agonizing, she decided there was nothing she could do at the moment. She'd offered Camille shelter in a secure place at Covenant House and Camille had chosen not to stay.

Still . . .

Serena pulled out her phone and texted, ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?

Relief filled her at the immediate reply. YES. HE'LL GO TO SLEEP AND IGNORE ME. I'M FINE. SORRY FOR THE TROUBLE.

YOU'RE NO TROUBLE. I PROMISE. CALL ME IF U NEED ME.

I WILL.

With a sigh and prayer for Camille's safety, Serena tucked her phone away and turned her mind back to her original plan, hoping to relax and forget her world for a few moments.

Which brought her attention back to the books.

A good suspense? She grimaced. No way, the last thing she needed was more suspense in her life. She needed some comic relief. Serena looked over at Yoda who still watched her. “How about some laughs?”

She wondered if she'd find any laughter, though. Camille's situation still weighed heavy on her heart even though the girl had promised she was all right and would call for help if she needed it.

Yoda cocked her head and lifted an ear.

Serena reached for the pink covered book and froze as her gaze landed on the shelf above.

Her high school albums.

She whispered aloud, “Eenie meenie miney moe, a killin' I will go. It's my game, it's my fun, the next to die is someone you know.”

Someone you know.

First Devin, then Leslie.

Both from her high school graduating class.

As though in a trance, she settled her hand on her senior year album and pulled it from the shelf. As she walked to the couch, she opened the album. Serena sat down and flipped to the first page of student photos. Not even Chewie's sudden appearance distracted her.

Frozen in time, the faces of smiling classmates from ten years ago stared up at her. One by one, she studied their faces, then turned the page. She'd graduated from a large high school with about five hundred students in her senior class. But as her eyes ran over each face, memories washed over her.

And there was Jillian Carter. Blond curly hair and sky blue eyes. Her porcelain features always made her seem so fragile. Breakable.
She and Alexia both had felt the need to protect her, shelter her whenever they could.

But they hadn't been able to protect her from whatever had sent her running from the graduation party.

Serena's eyes strayed to the mantel. To the three bricks just below the oak wood. “What are you hiding from, Jillian?” she whispered.

With a sigh, she went back to the album, continuing her perusal of the faces. And then she stopped.

There she was. The one Serena had been searching for.

Patricia Morris.

The girl from the shed.

“And that makes three from my class,” Serena said aloud. Chewie stopped cleaning her front paw and cocked her head at her. Yoda's ears perked and she gave a low woof before going back to her nap. “Devin, Leslie, and Patricia.” But Devin's killer was dead. His death had nothing to do with these two girls. Did it?

She tossed the album onto the couch beside her and hurried into the kitchen to grab her cell phone from her purse.

Punching in Dominic's number, impatience had her pacing the floor as she waited for him to pick up.

When it went to voice mail, she said, “Call me when you can. I know who our shed victim is. And I think I see a pattern emerging. The killer seems to be targeting my classmates from my senior year. We need to warn them.”