Worth Dying For (A Slaughter Creek Novel) (20 page)

Liz couldn’t shake the memories of her attack.

Months ago, when Harlan had raised the knife to her neck and sliced her, Rafe had swept in to fight him. The next few minutes had been a blur as she’d lapsed into unconsciousness.

When she woke up in the hospital, bandaged and medicated, she’d held her pain deep inside. And her secret . . .

It was the only way.

Rafe stroked her arm. “Are you all right, Liz?”

She nodded. A lie. She wasn’t okay. She wouldn’t be until Harlan was locked away. Or dead.

God, she wanted him dead.

Had he killed the woman on her doorstep, or had she caught the attention of the Dissector now? The account of her ordeal had been all over the news a few months ago. This new unsub could have read about it. He could have left the white rose just to make her think Harlan had returned.

A knock sounded on the door, and Rafe rushed to answer it. She heard him talking to Lieutenant Maddison and CSI Perkins. Their voices faded away as they went back outside so Rafe could show them the body.

Liz waited until she heard the door close, then took the rose and bagged it. If Harlan had left it, he might not have bothered to wear gloves. He wanted her to know he’d been at her house—that he was counting the minutes until he had her in his clutches again, until he killed her.

The rose would prove that she wasn’t crazy or imagining things. That someone had really been there.

The anguish that had overpowered her after the attack flooded her again. She wanted to retreat to that faraway place, lost in her silence and denial, where no one could hurt her again.

She wanted to curl up in Rafe’s arms and feel his hands on her and his arms around her. She wanted him to love her and make the pain go away.

But how could she ask that, and not confess the truth? If he knew the truth, he’d be devastated that she’d kept it from him.

Amelia added the final strokes to her painting of Six, then stared into the bottomless pit of his eyes, willing herself to understand him. His physical appearance changed every time she saw him. He was a master of disguise, an intelligent man, well versed in medical practices and skilled with a knife. He had a photographic memory.

He would never forget it if she betrayed him.

Evil flared in his eyes, yet a deep agony gleamed there too, as if he were two different people.

Just as she had been all her life. Fragmented.

Crazed with the horrors of what they’d endured and the memories of the Commander’s punishment.

Driven to survive no matter what.

Ting. Ting. Ting
. The wind chimes tinkled.

She’d seen how he’d suffered.

Knew the horrors he’d endured. The sensory deprivation experiments. The constant barrage of pictures of mutilations and sex scenes that followed. Scenes that aroused him.

Disturbed by the memory, she crawled into bed and closed her eyes. Rachel’s voice grated at the back of her mind.

You’re evil, Amelia. A sinner. Sinners go to hell.

“I’m not evil. Go away.” Determination mushroomed inside her. She’d forced little Bessie to disappear, and Viola, and Skid. And now this Rachel person was here. Rachel the religious fanatic.

Rachel had to leave too.

Cold air seeped through the window of the cabin, making the room feel icy.

Suddenly she sensed someone in the room.

Six. She smelled his musky odor. Felt his hands reach for her as he slipped into bed behind her.

“I missed you, Amelia.”

Amelia inhaled, her body aching for physical comfort. But her mind told her that Six’s loving wasn’t real love. That it was all-consuming. Poisonous.

Smothering.

He eased her hair back from her face and whispered against her ear, “You’d never tell anyone about us, would you? You know I love you.”

Amelia clutched the sheets in the dark, half terrified, half excited by his touch.

She wanted to be loved so badly. To be whole and have a family like Sadie. But she couldn’t imagine Jake ever holding Sadie down and scaring her.

Six nuzzled her neck. “Amelia?”

Make him leave. He’s a pervert!
Rachel shouted.
You’re both sinners.

Amelia closed her eyes, willing strength into her voice and trying to quiet Rachel. But the metallic scent of blood wafted around her.

Repent your sins
, Rachel said again.
If you don’t tell Sadie, you’re nothing but a murderer yourself.

God help her. She’d been hoping all along that Six wasn’t the killer the police were looking for. But she smelled blood on him.

Maybe Rachel had known all along . . .

Tears blinded Amelia. What was she going to do? If she turned against Six, he would kill her, too.

Chapter Twenty-One

L
iz slipped the bagged rose to CSI Perkins. “I need you to see if you can lift any evidence from this. Someone broke in and left it in my house.”

Perkins took the bag. “Sure. Do you have a suspect in mind?”

Liz lowered her voice. “Yes—Harlan. But most everyone in the department thinks he’s dead, so I want to verify it before I mention it.”

Perkins adjusted his glasses. “I’ll let you know what I find asap.”

The lights of a van appeared around the corner of the building, and Rafe grimaced. “It’s Brenda Banks. Can you deal with her while Maddison and I search the area?”

Liz nodded, knowing Rafe and Maddison were looking for the woman’s tongue. They wouldn’t find it, though. The unsub had kept it as his trophy.

She envisioned a room full of jars with various organs in them, and bile rose in her throat.

Brenda stormed around the corner, her cameraman in tow. Liz hurried to stop her from getting too close.

“Brenda, you can’t show the vic’s photo. We haven’t even identified her.”

“I’m aware of that, but Agent Lucas, this is the third gruesome murder this week. The citizens of Slaughter Creek have a right to know that there’s a psychopath on the loose.”

Liz inhaled sharply, trying to curb her temper. Brenda was right. But the fact that they hadn’t solved the case yet and that this victim was lying on her very own doorstep grated on her nerves.

And made her guilt mount.

How many more women had to die before they stopped this unsub?

“What body part did he take this time?” Brenda asked.

Liz glared at her. “I’m not going to answer that. In fact, you’ve jeopardized the case by labeling him the Dissector in the first place.”

“I’m just doing my job,” Brenda said.

Liz took a deep breath. “And making our jobs more difficult.”

“Then give me something, and I’ll get out of your way.” Brenda shoved the microphone toward her.

“All right, a short interview.” After all, she had to address the public, or they would panic.

Brenda looked surprised. “That would be great.” She leaned closer. “By the way, have you or Rafe heard from Nick?”

Liz folded her arms. “No. . . . Why?”

Brenda worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “He texted that he had a lead on the Commander, and that he was going to check it out, but I haven’t heard from him.”

Liz offered her a smile. “I’m sure Nick is fine. He may be doing surveillance and simply not be able to call.”

“I suppose.” Brenda finger-combed her hair, then turned toward her cameraman and gestured for him to start rolling. “This is Brenda Banks, reporting from a residence outside Slaughter Creek, where the body of another woman has just been found.” She tilted the microphone toward Liz. “This latest victim was left at the home of Special Agent Liz Lucas, who has been investigating the case of the Dissector. Agent Lucas, do you have any suspects?”

Liz forced a calm to her voice as she addressed the camera. While she didn’t want to alarm residents, she also wanted them to be cautious.

“It’s true that a body was left on my property tonight. The victim was a white woman in her late forties to fifties, but we haven’t identified her yet.”

“But you think she was murdered by the same person who killed Ester Banning and Beaulah Hodge?”

“That is our working theory,” Liz said. “We have questioned a couple of persons of interest, but we’re still pursuing other leads.”

“Do you think this latest serial killer case is connected to the CHIMES experiment?”

“I’m not at liberty to discuss specifics, but we are asking residents to be diligent about their safety and to phone us if they have any information regarding these crimes.”

Brenda licked her lips. “Agent Lucas, why do you think the perpetrator left the body at your house? Do you think it has to do with the fact that you were the lead investigator in a serial killer crime related to your own mother’s murder?”

Now she was getting way too personal. “He left the victim here to make a statement to the police, to boast that he’s escaped detection. He’s challenging me to find him.” She looked directly into the camera. “And trust me, I will find you.”

Liz hadn’t realized that Rafe had come up behind her. He jerked the microphone away from Brenda and shut it off.

“What in the hell are you doing, Liz? Inviting the bastard to come after you?”

Rafe struggled to temper his reaction. The last time Liz had been in front of the camera on the Harlan case, she’d made a similar statement.

And Harlan
had
come after her—and nearly killed her.

The Dissector could do the same thing.

She lifted her chin defiantly. “I’m doing my job, Rafe.” She gestured behind her toward the body. “Ignoring the fact that he literally left a victim on my doorstep would only piss him off more. He wants to think he’s getting to us.”

Rafe bit back an argument. She was the profiler, and she was right. But he didn’t like it one damn bit.

Brenda and the cameraman were watching them, so Rafe pulled Liz to the side. “We have to do something, Rafe,” she said. “Just think about it. That the killer’s appearance on the personal property of an agent means he’s escalating. He’s taking chances.”

Rafe recognized the determination in Liz’s voice. She’d spoken with the same intensity right before he’d nearly lost her to that other bastard. “Then he’ll make a mistake, and we’ll catch him. You don’t have to throw yourself in front of the bus to do that.”

Liz shifted, hands on her hips. “But we need to stop him before any more women die.”

CSI Perkins approached them, his flashlight probing the woods. “We didn’t find the tongue.”

“The killer took it.” Liz angled her face away from Brenda so she wouldn’t hear. “Just as his name suggests, he’s keeping the body parts as his trophies.”

Rafe walked over to Dr. Bullock. “Cause of death?”

“Bled to death, like the others. She died sometime yesterday—late afternoon, early evening. I’ll let you know what I find when I do the autopsy.”

Maddison joined them, notepad in hand.

“We need an ID,” Rafe told him. “Run her prints, and if that doesn’t turn up anything, plug her picture into facial software recognition.”

Liz gestured toward her phone. “I’ll email her picture to the head of HomeBound and the director of the sanitarium, see if either of them recognizes her.”

Liz stepped away to text the photo, and Maddison lowered his voice. “Is Agent Lucas all right, Hood?”

“Yes,” Rafe said. “She’s strong.”

“But I know what she went through before, that she had to go into therapy.”

“Therapy is routine for any agent who was abducted, terrorized, or injured.”

Maddison shrugged. “Still, should she be working this case?” He pointed toward the dead woman. “Especially considering the killer is getting personal with her.”

The nagging worry in Rafe’s belly was turning into a damned ulcer. Hell, Maddison was preaching to the choir. “I don’t like it either. I’ll take her somewhere safe after we’re finished here.”

The ME called Maddison’s name. They were ready to transport the woman’s body to the morgue, so Rafe walked around front to find Liz. Brenda and her cameraman were packing up as he slipped into Liz’s house.

“Mr. Samson, I just sent a photo of another victim to your HomeBound office,” Liz said. “Please let me know if you recognize her.” She hung up, then dialed another number. “Mr. Loggins, I sent you a photo of a woman who was found murdered outside my house tonight. Please let me know if you recognize her and if she worked for the sanitarium. She looks to be late forties to fifties, and could have been involved in the Slaughter Creek experiments.”

Liz pocketed her phone as Rafe entered. “It’s late, Rafe. Maybe we’ll hear something in the morning.”

“Pack a bag,” Rafe said. “You’re not staying here tonight.”

Liz opened her mouth to speak.

“I’m not arguing, Liz,” Rafe said firmly. “It’s late, and we’re both exhausted. We’ll hit the ground running tomorrow, but let’s go to my place and get some sleep.”

Uncertainty flared in Liz’s eyes. “To your place?”

Rafe shrugged, although he couldn’t resist giving her a devilish look. “You’ll be safe there with me, Liz.”

She gave him a doubtful look, but disappeared into her bedroom to pack.