When a Heart Stops (15 page)

THURSDAY, 5:25 P.M.

“What do you think?” Dominic asked Serena as they left the prison.

“I don't know if he killed those women or not, but I think he knows who did.”

Dominic nodded. “And I think you were right when you said he was protecting someone. Possibly one of his kids?”

“Yeah.”

“The question is, which one?” Dominic pulled his car keys from the front pocket of his khakis.

“Well, it's not the one in prison. He's been there almost as long as his father, right?”

“Right. That gives us three others to choose from.”

“We have to find them first.”

“We know where one is.” Dominic glanced at his watch. “What time are you meeting your friend?”

Serena frowned. “She was supposed to call me if she was going to make it.” Serena wanted to go with him to see Nate. But she really needed to check on Camille. Torn, she hesitated.

Dominic offered, “Why don't you come with me to the law office? It's only about five minutes up the road. If Camille calls, I'll run you back to your car.”

“Okay. That sounds great.”

Her phone buzzed. Camille? No. A text from Paul. She read aloud to Dominic. “Tox screen on Patricia shows scopolamine. No other drugs indicated.”

Dominic looked at her. “You're not surprised, are you?”

“No. Unfortunately, it's what I expected.”

“Come on then, let's go.”

They climbed into his car and made the little jaunt to the law office where Nate worked.

When they pulled into the parking lot, Serena shook her head. “Five minutes away from his father and he hasn't seen him in almost twenty years.”

“If your father had done what Nate's had, would you go see him?”

Serena bit her lip. “I don't know. If I was the one he was protecting, maybe.” She looked at the sign near the door: Th
HE LAW OFFICES OF
J
AMISON
, L
INDELL
,
AND
C
RAINE
. “He's done well for himself,” she murmured. Four cars were scattered in the parking lot and a black Lexus sat in one of the reserved spaces.

Inside, cold air blasted and Serena shivered but was grateful to be out of the heat.

A receptionist who looked to be in her early sixties greeted them with a professional smile. “May I help you?”

“Dominic Allen and Serena Hopkins. We're here to see Mr. Lindell,” Dominic said.

Serena noticed that he didn't flash his badge or give their credentials. Interesting. He wanted Nate to feel at ease.

“Of course,” the woman said. “He's expecting you.” She glanced at the phone on her desk. “He's on a call right now. Just have a seat and he'll be with you shortly.”

Serena sat in the nearest chair. Dominic chose to pace the floor.

Five minutes later, a tall man with a military-style haircut, piercing blue eyes, and blond hair appeared in the doorway. His eyes
landed on Dominic and Serena. Nate stepped into the waiting area and held out a hand. “Nathan Lindell. You can call me Nate.”

Dominic shook the proffered hand. “Thanks for agreeing to see us.”

“No problem. Come on back to my office.”

Serena stared at Nathan Lindell as she tried to figure out her first impressions of the man whose father had murdered at least nine people. She thought he looked a lot like a younger version of Drake, short blond hair, intense blue eyes. Nice looking but not overly so. He would blend in with the crowd.

And yet she thought she'd seen him somewhere before. “Do I know you?”

Nate gestured for them to sit in the two comfortable chairs facing his desk. Instead of sitting behind the desk, Nate pulled a chair up so they all faced each other. “I don't think so. What can I do for you?”

Dominic said, “We wanted to—”

“You came to the morgue,” Serena blurted with an apologetic look at Dominic. Then she turned her gaze back to Nate. “Right after Leslie was killed. That was you.”

Nate blinked. “Oh, the morgue. Right. Yes, that was me.”

“Did you know Leslie? You left in such a hurry . . .”

Nate let out a sigh and shook his head. “No, I didn't know her. I'd seen the news report and,” he gulped, “it sounded so much like . . .”

“What your father had done twenty years ago?” Serena asked.

“Yeah.” He rubbed his hand across his lips. “Seeing that just brought everything back. I found myself in my car, then talking my way into the morgue. I couldn't believe it. She'd been found with a package on her and she had a bullet hole in her forehead. The news said she'd been missing for several days before they found her.” He lifted his shoulder in a helpless shrug. “It all added up.”

Dominic said, “And that's why we're here. We're investigating
this recent killing that appears to be following the MO of the Doll Maker Killer.”

Nate flinched. “It's been awhile since I've heard that name.”

“Do you think your father killed those women?”

“Yes.”

His quick, without hesitation, answer took Serena by surprise. Dominic merely blinked. “We do too.”

“But,” Nate said as he lifted his left ankle to rest it on his right knee, “my father maintains his innocence.”

“Why don't you believe him?”

“Because of what I saw the night I called the police to report what was in the shed in the backyard.”

Dominic leaned forward. “You were the anonymous caller.”

“Indeed.” Nate's eyes were shuttered and Serena imagined that he hated to dwell on whatever it was that he found that night. “Three girls have died now. I heard about the notes on the news. Have you figured out who they're for?”

Dominic shot a look at Serena, then said to Nate, “No. Do you know who the killer would target?”

Nate rolled his eyes. “How would I know?”

“Right,” Dominic said. “I don't guess you would. Well, the last one we find pretty interesting. It seems to be a threat directed to the officers.”

Dominic pulled the copycat's latest message from his pocket and handed it to Nate, who studied it. “Hmm. Yes, it does, doesn't it? Seems to be. But sometimes things aren't always what they seem.” His brow furrowed and he seemed to lose himself in deep thoughts.

“What do you mean?” Dominic asked.

Nate looked up. “I don't really know what I mean. My father always seemed to talk in circles. If his note says one thing, it probably means something else.”

“But your father didn't write this note,” Serena said.

“I know.”

Dominic said, “So . . . you think the note was meant for . . . who?”

The lawyer shrugged, then grimaced. “I have no idea. I'm just . . . not thinking straight right now.”

Serena spoke up. “We think your father was protecting someone. That he may not have actually done the killing, but maybe had a partner that helped or planned the kidnappings and murders.”

Nate blinked as though shoving off unpleasant thoughts. Then as her words registered, he frowned. “That's something new. Why would you think that?”

Dominic explained about the copycat killer. “The thing is, though, he's not following the Doll Maker Killer's MO exactly, but enough to make us believe these new deaths are by someone who was also involved in the deaths almost twenty years ago.”

Nate tapped his hands on his knee, his expression closed, while Dominic talked. When Dominic finished, Nate rose and walked to the coffeepot sitting on the side bar. He poured himself a cup and offered each of them one. Serena accepted. Dominic shook his head. “No thanks.”

When Nate handed her the mug, she said again, “I think he was protecting someone.”

Again Nate's expression didn't move. Serena tried again. “Do you have any idea who could have been his partner?”

Nate sat once again. Took a sip of his coffee then said, “No, I don't. I've done my best to forget those years and rehashing it isn't going to unearth anything new. If you've got someone out there killing using my father's MO, then you've got a serious problem on your hands.” He set his coffee on his desk. “Unfortunately, there's nothing I can do to help.”

“Nothing?” Serena blew on the hot brew, then sipped. Surprise hit her. Nate liked good coffee.

The man let out a sigh. “Have you talked to my sister? Gwen?”

“No. We haven't been able to locate her.”

“Hmm. Well, I haven't seen her since the trial, but she might be able to help you more than I can. She and Drake were tight.”

“You call him Drake?”

“I'm certainly not calling him my father,” Nate spat, contempt dripping from him.

Serena didn't blame him.

“You said they were tight,” Dominic said. “Tight how? What kind of relationship did they have?”

“One that was exclusive. No one else could come between them. My father had his girl.” A glimmer of something Serena couldn't identify flashed in the man's eyes. Hatred? “He was big on the idea of having a ‘Daddy's girl.' Being the hero, the god that his little girl looked up to. He got all that with Gwen. From the time she was born, my father lavished her with gifts, elaborate toys, trips to theme parks.” Bitterness laced his voice.

“And he didn't do any of that for you, did he?” she asked.

At the sympathy in her voice, Nate sighed and rubbed a hand down his face. “No. He didn't. And he didn't do it for my two younger brothers.” He shrugged. “Drake and Gwen were always together when he was home, secretive, laughing at some private joke.” Another shrug. “It was weird, not incestuous or anything like that—it was just like they were in their own little world when they were together, with no room for anyone else. And if you tried to wedge your way in, or if you did something Gwen didn't like, well, trust me, you paid for it.”

“You were afraid of her?”

“Yes.” He didn't elaborate, but Serena caught the slight shudder that went through him.

“Do you know where she is now?” Dominic asked.

“Not a clue and I don't want to know. After Drake was found guilty, she was a basket case for weeks, crazy, talking to herself, yelling at shadows. Then one day she just disappeared.”

Serena frowned. “What about that statement she gave to the
newspapers about how he'd shamed their family and she never wanted to talk to him again.”

Nate gave a short humorless laugh. “He got caught.” At Dominic's confused look, Nate said, “She was angry he was in prison. He'd failed her because they could no longer be together. At least that's my theory.”

“And yet she never went to visit him?”

Nate lifted a brow. “Really? I find that hard to believe.”

“There's no record of her being there,” Dominic said.

Nate shrugged. “Like I said, I don't have anything else to add.”

“So,” Dominic said slowly. “You think she was involved in the killings?”

Nate paused, glanced out the window, and shrugged. “No. I don't know. When he was caught, I think she was genuinely surprised, horrified, and . . . hurt. Hurt that he would do the things he did, devastated that he could hurt our mother the way he did. Betray us the way he did.” He shook his head. “It was—unfathomable.”

Dominic nodded, sympathy emanating from him. Serena could tell he felt for the man. Dominic's own father, while not a serial killer, had contributed to his sister Karen's death, had a heavy fist with his family, and was basically a horrible man. Fortunately, Dominic had had Marcus Porter to show him the way a man was supposed to behave, believe, and
be
on the inside. It didn't sound like Nate had ever had that.

“Have you ever heard of a woman named Allison Kingston?” Serena asked, breaking the silence.

Nate cocked his head. “The name's not familiar. Why?”

Dominic said, “She's been writing your father, talking about how she admired him and is so sorry he's in jail. How unfair it is that he was found guilty and how she'll be waiting for him when he gets out.”

Nate snorted. “He's not ever getting out.”

“No, but we're not sure that this woman is fully in touch with reality to realize that fact.”

“I would say not.”

“So you're sure you don't have any idea where your sister is? A wild guess would even help us out.”

“No, and I'm happy to keep it that way. The less I even hear her name, the better I feel. And I really don't want to discuss this anymore. Like I said, I've spent the last twenty years trying to forget everything related to the man who contributed to my existence.” His revulsion spoke much louder than his words.

Serena cast a glance at Dominic who nodded and frowned.

“Please. Just a couple of more questions. Do you have any connections with anyone in Bogota, Colombia, or Ecuador?” Dominic asked.

“Bogota?” He tapped his lips as his brows drew together. Shaking his head, he said, “No. But if I remember correctly, we had some cousins, distant family that lived in Ecuador.” He gave a short laugh. “Haven't thought about them in years.”

“Really? Because your father said he had no connection to either place.”

“Well, technically, he doesn't. They're my mother's family. However, he lied if he said he didn't know anyone there.”

“Was your sister close to them?”

He shook his head. “Not that I recall.” He shrugged. “Then again, they could have visited them on one of their little father/daughter trips and I'd never know it.”

Dominic handed Nate one of his cards. “If you hear from her, will you let me know?”

The man hesitated and Dominic rushed to reassure him. “You don't have to tell her we came looking for her.”

Nate gave a slow nod and reached out to take the card. He slipped it into his right front pocket and said, “All right. But I really don't think I'll hear anything from her.” He laughed, a short sound that
reminded Serena of something more like a cough. “I mean, I haven't heard from her since she disappeared. Why would you think she'd surface now?”