"I won’t let him scare me. I want to help. I promise I won’t do anything stupid," she hastened to add. "No, I’m not scared now. Just angry. Furious, in fact, but not scared."
"You should be scared. Fear will keep you coiled, focused, on your toes."
"But it can also paralyze, and I won’t let it paralyze me," she assured him. "This man… this monster," she corrected, "tells my brother how much fun he had torturing and killing a poor, innocent woman, and then he tells him the craving’s come back and that he’s chosen me for his next amusement. He’s so clever, he knows Tommy wants to see his face, so he waits for him to come outside the confessional and then he hits him on the back of the head. He could have lulled him."
"He didn’t want to kill him or he would have," Nick said quietly. "He’s using Tommy as his messenger now." He saw the look that crossed her face and immediately sought to reassure her. "Don’t worry about your brother. We’re going to keep him safe too."
"Night and day," she demanded.
"Of course," he agreed.
She nodded. "Doesn’t it seem to you that this man is calling all the shots now? He tells Tommy to notify you and make you take me away and then maybe he won’t follow. And my brother wants to do just that. Hide me."
"Of course he wants to hide you. He loves you and he doesn’t want anything to happen to you."
She rubbed her temples with her fingertips. "I know," she said. "And I would probably react the very same way."
"But?"
"I know my brother, and right now he’s in agony worrying about something else that man said to him in the confessional that neither you nor Tommy has mentioned in front of me."
"What’s that?"
"He told Tommy he would try to find someone else to amuse himself with." Her voice shook as she continued. "For whatever reason, he decided to warn me so I could get away, but this other woman won’t have any warning, will she?"
"No, she probably won’t," he agreed. "But you’ve got to-"
She interrupted him. "Running away isn’t an option. I’m not going to give anyone that kind of power over me. I won’t be scared."
"I think we should discuss this later, after Pete’s had time to go over the tape with the profiler."
Nick tried to get up from the table, but Laurant grabbed hold of his hand. She didn’t want to wait. "I know that you must have some theories. I want to hear them. I need information, Nick. I don’t want to feel powerless, and right this minute that’s exactly how I feel."
His eyes bored into hers for several seconds before he made up his mind. Then he nodded. "All right, I’ll tell you what we know. To begin with, my superior, Dr. Peter Morganstern, already has listened to a copy of the tape. He’s a psychiatrist who heads my department and he’s the best there is. If anyone can get into this creep’s mind, he can. Just remember, Pete hasn’t had time to sit down and analyze every word."
"I understand."
"Good. First, let’s talk facts. The most important fact is that this wasn’t random. You were specifically chosen."
"Do you know why?"
"We know he chose you because he’s… dedicated… to you," he said, searching for the right word.
"What does that mean?" she asked impatiently.
"It means you’ve got a fan. It’s what we call them… fans."
"That doesn’t make any sense. I’m not a movie star or a celebrity. I’m just an average person."
"Look in the mirror, Laurant. There isn’t anything average about you. You’re beautiful. He thinks you’re beautiful." He hurried on before she could interrupt. "And most victims these guys select aren’t high profile."
She took a breath and then said, "Go on. I need to know exactly what I’m up against. You aren’t scaring me," she added so he wouldn’t continue to choose his words so carefully. "I want to know everything so I can fight back, and by God, I am going to fight back."
"Okay, here’s what he’s telling us. He’s been stalking you for a long time now. He knows everything about you. Everything. He knows what kind of perfume you wear, what your favorite foods are, what kind of detergent you use in your laundry, what books you read, what your sex life is like, what you do every minute of every day. He wants us to know that he’s been inside your house at least a couple of times, but probably more. He sat in your chairs, he ate your food, and he went through your drawers. It’s his way of getting to know you," he explained. "He’s probably taken something from your underwear drawer to keep, something you wouldn’t miss right away. Think about it, and you’ll remember some old nightgown or T-shirt that you haven’t been able to find lately. The garment has to be something you wear close to your skin."
"Why?" she asked, shaken by Nick’s description of the man he called a fan. She didn’t want to believe that anyone had gone through her house uninvited and searched through her things, and the thought that she was being watched made her skin crawl.
"It has to have your scent on it," he explained. "It makes him feel closer to you. Whatever it is, he’s sleeping with it," he added, remembering the man’s words about wrapping himself in her fragrance.
"Anything else?" she asked, surprised at how normal she sounded.
"Yeah," he said. "He’s watched you sleep."
"No, I would have known," she cried out.
He tapped the cassette player. "It’s all there."
"What if I had opened my eyes… what if I woke up and saw him?"
"That’s what he wants you to do," he said. "But not yet. He’d be upset if you forced him to hurt you now."
"Why?"
"You’d be speeding up his agenda."
"Go on. I’m not scared," she reiterated.
"What I just told you… that’s what he wants us to know. Here’s what we’re theorizing at this point. He lives in Holy Oaks, and he’s someone you come into contact with all the time, maybe even on a daily basis. You’re friendly with him, but like I said before, he’s reading all sorts of other messages. Pete says he’s in the adoration stage. That means he thinks you’re pretty damned perfect, and he wants to protect you. The guy’s obsessing now, and he’s clearly at war with himself. He wants us to believe he is anyway. He might genuinely like you, Laurant, and in that case he doesn’t want to hurt you, but he knows he’s going to because no matter what you do, you’re going to disappoint him. In his mind, there’s no way you can live up to his expectations-he’ll make sure of that-and there’s no way you can win."
"You said he’s in the adoration stage but that’s going to change. When do you think it will happen?"
"Are you asking me how soon? I don’t know," he admitted. "But I don’t think we’ll have to wait long. You could already be… tarnishing… in his mind. Look, he’s got to find something wrong with you so he can feel betrayed. Maybe it will be the way you smile. All of a sudden, he’s going to think you’re mocking him, or maybe he’ll believe you’re coming on to some other man. That would definitely enrage him. He’d like us to think he’s tormented. Remember, he promised Tommy that if you ran away from him, he might not follow you. But he also boasted that he is brilliant and that he wants more of a challenge."
"Maybe he’ll get tired of this… obsession."
"He isn’t going to go away." Nick’s voice had a sharp edge now. "The fantasy’s controlling him. He can’t stop. It’s a cat-and-mouse game to him, and you’re the mouse. He likes the hunt. The more challenging it is, the more fun. The game won’t be over until you have begged for mercy."
He leaned forward and studied her closely. "Well, Laurant? Are you scared yet?"
Chapter 7
What a delightful time he’d had toying with the priest. Delightful indeed. He really hadn’t expected that he would have so much fun, because he’d learned from past experiences that sometimes the buildup-the planning stage in his schedule, as he liked to call it-turned out to be far more rewarding than the actual event-like when he was a boy and he was building his fort in the backyard. The joy was in the anticipation for what he was going to do inside his isolated cocoon where no one could spy on him. Oh, he’d spend hours and hours getting ready, a busy little beaver sharpening the kitchen knives and scissors he’d stolen from his mother’s drawer, and meticulously preparing the burial sites for the animals he’d trapped and caged. The killings always turned out to be anticlimactic though. The animals never squealed enough to satisfy him. But in this instance, good old Tommy boy hadn’t let him down. No, no, he hadn’t been disappointed in the priest at all.