His hand lifted and she made her way to the street without looking back. But even still, she could feel his eyes watching her all the way.
Thursday, February 19,
8:15 a.m.
„Well, isn’t that interesting,“ Zoe mused, sipping at a cup of black coffee.
Her cameraman yawned. „What?“
„Mayhew, walking up the courthouse steps. Get some film of her, okay?“
„Why?“ He frowned. „You’re not getting one of those stalking complexes are you?“
„Just do it. And get a close-up of her feet.“
„You’re creepy, lady,“ Scott groused, but did as he was told, his video camera following Kristen all the way up the stairs until she disappeared into the building.
Zoe took the camera from his hands. „Let’s take a good look.“ She rewound the tape and stared into the viewer. „See that? Look at those shoes.“
Scott reached for his own coffee. „I did. Nike high-tops. Didn’t match her suit.“
Zoe rolled her eyes. „No. Look at her shoes. They’re all covered in mud.“
Scott shrugged. „So? She went for a morning run.“
Zoe shook her head. „No, she doesn’t run. She does aerobics twice a week at her neighborhood Y.“ She looked up to find Scott’s unshaven face twisted in a disgusted grimace.
„You have been stalking her.“
Zoe blew out a breath. „Don’t be an idiot. Of course I’m not stalking her. I’m just acquainting myself with her usual routine. So I know when something’s up, like now. She went someplace this morning before motion hour.“ Her eyes narrowed, her mouth all but salivating. The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood straight up. Good investigative reporting was instinct and persistence. And preparation. This morning all that preparation was about to pay off. „Something’s cooking with our devoted public servant.“ She turned to Scott with a satisfied smile. „We’re about to hit pay dirt.“
Thursday, February 19,
10:15 a.m.
John stood staring out the window, his back visibly tense. His hands gripped his upper arms and Kristen saw his knuckles grow whiter with each new detail she told him.
„I had a message on my voice mail from Detective Mitchell when I got out of motion hour,“ she finished. „They’d uncovered the bodies of three gang members. Everything was the same except the pelvic shot.“ Watching his reflection in the glass, she saw his mouth tighten. „They were on their way to the final scene, Ross King.“
„Do you know what time it is, Kristen?“ John said flatly.
He sounded like an annoyed father asking her if she was aware she’d missed curfew and that, in turn, annoyed her. „Yes, John. My watch is accurate to the second.“
„Then why did you wait until now to tell me? Twelve hours later?“
Kristen frowned. „I did try to call you. I left three voice mails telling you it was urgent.“
He turned from the window with a frown of his own. „Three voice mails? I didn’t get any of them.“ He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and punched buttons. „I’ll have Lois call the wireless company. This is unacceptable service.“ His frown smoothed from angry to worried. „You’re all right?“
Kristen shrugged. „I kind of hope somebody else in the office gets a special surprise – then it won’t be just me he’s chosen.“ She vividly remembered every creak her house made during the night, wondering if he was out there, watching her. Relieved that Reagan had checked every closet and under every bed, then pushing Reagan and his intriguing eyes right out of her head. „I don’t necessarily feel like I’m in danger, but it’s unsettling all the same.“
John buzzed Lois on his intercom. „Lois, please set up an emergency department meeting this afternoon. One o’clock. Mandatory. Those in court need to see me before they leave tonight.“ He looked at Kristen. „If he tries this with one of the rest of us, we’ll be ready.“
Thursday, February 19,
12:00 p.m.
„Thanks for squeezing us in, Miles,“ Mia said, leading the way into the office of Dr. Miles Westphalen, their staff psychologist. „We’ve got a unique situation.“
„What’s happened?“ Westphalen’s eyes focused on Mia as she filled him in. „Let me see the letters,“ he said and Mia handed him copies of all three. He read them twice before looking up and removing his glasses. „Interesting.“
„I thought you’d think so,“ Mia said. „Well?“
„He’s sincere,“ Westphalen said. „And smart. He either has an academic background in literature or he’s an avid reader. There’s a… poetic cadence to his writing. Refinement and… culture. He writes like a cultured grandfather passing wisdom to his grandchildren. He’s religious,, even though he never mentions God or any specific organized religion.“
Abe’s mouth tightened. „He’s a hypocrite, claiming to avenge victims yet preying on ASA Mayhew.“
One gray brow lifted and Westphalen turned to Mia. „What do you think, Mia?“
Mia pushed out a breath. „He has a special hatred for sex offenders. We found five bodies today. The rapist and pedophile both had their pelvis blown away while the murderers just had the head shot. And the last guy, King?“
„The pedophile,“ Westphalen supplied.
Mia grimaced. „Yeah. Anyway, either he walked into one hell of a wall or our humble servant beat him to a bloody pulp. His own mother wouldn’t have recognized him.“
„Kristen did,“ Abe commented.
Mia frowned, swinging around to look at him. „What’s that supposed to mean?“
Abe shrugged uneasily. „Just a comment. She has a good eye.“
Mia’s eyes narrowed. „You’re still pissed with her.“
Abe shook his head. „No, I’m not. I was, but I’m not now.“ Westphalen was waiting and damned if Abe didn’t feel compelled to explain himself. „She made a list of everyone connected with the original crimes and added the cops. I was just… surprised.“
Pivoting in her chair, Mia faced Westphalen. „He knows details that he shouldn’t.“
„Details? Such as?“
„Ramey had evidence of strangulation with a chain,“ Mia said. „That was his M.O. It also wasn’t public knowledge.“
Westphalen leaned back in his chair and looked at Abe. „And this troubles you.“
Abe’s brows bunched. „Of course it does. It’s a security breach.“
„Or he could be one of us.“ Mia used the same words she’d used this morning standing over Ramey’s makeshift grave. One of us. It irritated Abe now as much as it had then. The thought that a cop could take the law into his own hands, could stalk a woman in her own home. It was repugnant. What was more unsettling, though, was that he wasn’t sure which crime bothered him more, stalking Kristen or the murder of five people.
„Why did he give us their clothing?“ Abe asked, changing the subject.
Westphalen steepled his fingertips. „What else should he have done with it?“
„Thrown it away,“ Mia said. „Why didn’t he destroy it?“
Abe paced. „If he’d thrown it away, somebody might have seen it. A dog might have pulled it from the trash. If he burned it, we might look for ashes if we ever caught up to him.“ He looked at Mia with a wry smile. „Where safer to leave it than with the cops?“
Mia returned the smile, grimly. „He is smart. Why the grave marker?“
„Now that I consider truly fascinating,“ Westphalen commented. „Such symbolism, and he went to so much trouble. He used real marble?“
Abe stopped pacing and took the chair next to Mia’s. „The lab will know for sure. We made some calls, looking for anybody that makes headstones. There weren’t that many.“