“Oh, Emily,” he said, enveloping her in his arms. “Whatever she said to you, she didn’t mean it.”
“She meant it,” Emily said through her tears. “She’s always meant it. She’s just never said it before.”
Simon squeezed her tighter. Emily was glad Jake wasn’t here to witness her break apart like this, but part of her wished he was with her now. Despite everything her mom said, her last statements scared Emily the most. The darkness loomed in the front of her mind, and Emily realized if she didn’t find a way to get rid of it soon, her mom’s prophecy would come true.
Chapter Forty
Emily’s visit to her mother was not going well. Her sadness washed over David as if he experienced the emotion firsthand. He finished pulling the fitted sheet over the queen size mattress, and sat down on the edge of the bed for a quick break to catch his breath. When he connected with Emily, he hadn’t prepared for the toll the connection would take. The physical manifestation of their connection probably had a worse effect on her, but it still taxed him at times and drained his energy.
Earlier that evening, he had followed Emily from her workplace to the assisted living facility where her mother lived. From his research on her, he learned her mother suffered from frontotemporal dementia and Alzheimer’s.
Their relationship was not typical of mother-daughter. He had watched Emily leave the facility enough times with tear-stained cheeks and red eyes to know they were not tears of sadness for her mother’s condition, but remnants of the frayed emotions she experienced while visiting her mother. That woman would likely die behind the doors of that facility, and her death couldn’t come soon enough for David after the way she treated her daughter. Maybe once he was with Emily, he would expedite her mother’s demise.
After he watched Emily pull into the facility tonight, he drove his car past the entrance and toward his home. There was no need to stay through her visit, or risk the temptation to go inside the facility itself and get closer to Emily. It wouldn’t be long until she came to him.
He looked around the room he prepared for her. He needed to get a few more things and finish making her bed. They wouldn’t stay long, but he still wanted it to be nice for her for the one night she was here. After that, they would move to the other house he had ready for them, far away from Kansas. Neither of them would have to worry about a thing once they were in their new home and sealed off from the rest of the world.
Stephanie waited for him in the basement. He had gone down earlier in the day to provide her with a ham sandwich on a small paper plate and bottled water. He gave her no utensils or glass, nothing she could use to try to attack him. She needed to retain some of her strength so she could contact Emily, and since he didn’t plan on killing her until tomorrow evening, she would need food later tonight and tomorrow as well.
He didn’t mind feeding her. Keeping Jillian for several hours proved beneficial. If he kept Stephanie alive for two full days, her fear would be at such great heights that she would connect him to Emily on a much deeper level.
When he delivered her food earlier, her growing fear pleased him. He placed the sandwich and water in front of her on the ground, and sat down several feet in front of her without saying a word. He watched her for almost an hour, as she debated whether to eat, and then finally gave into her hunger.
After she ate, she fidgeted and tried to ignore him. A flurry of questions came next. Who was he, what was she doing there, what did he want with her? The endless questions amused him even more when she screamed at him and broke down crying.
David picked up the flat sheet from the top of the dresser and finished dressing the mattress. He headed to the kitchen, ready to make dinner for Stephanie. He couldn’t wait to watch her squirm again, and he knew it would take all the self-control he could muster to not kill her tonight. If only Emily knew all the sacrifices he made for her. Maybe one day he would tell her.
Chapter Forty-one
Lionel tucked his cell phone into the pocket of his pants. Ever since Lindsay Alcott left the station yesterday, Emily’s name came to mind as someone he wanted to talk with Lindsay. Cassie was unavailable to go with her, but Emily agreed to go to Lindsay’s home that afternoon to see if she could get any other information to help with the investigation.
As he sipped his morning coffee, he stared at his desk phone, waiting for the all-important call from Shawn to see if they had a match on their latest victim’s fingerprints. With Stephanie’s abduction, their rush on the identification of the last victim fell through the cracks. It happened sometimes, but it didn’t make him feel any better about sitting on an unidentified body.
Movement in the department outside of Lionel’s office caught his attention and he looked through the window. Shawn ran through the office with a file in hand and rushed through their office door. “What’s going on?” Lionel asked.
“We have a match on the prints for our victim.” He sat in a chair opposite of Lionel. “Jillian Waters.”
“Where did you get the prints from?
“She has a record,” Shawn said, with an excited smile that Lionel had not seen on his face in almost a year.
Assuming he didn’t hear Shawn correctly, he flinched. “A record?”
“Well, it would have been a record if she had been prosecuted, but she was never formally charged after her arrest.”
“What would the record have been for?”
“Hit and run. It was four months ago, but like I said, they never prosecuted her. Case never went to court and no deal was made. Prosecutor’s decision.”
“If there was an arrest and no deal made, why would a hit and run not go to court?” Lionel asked. “Was there not enough evidence?”
“Not sure. The lead officer on the case was Betsy Rogers.”
A young up-and-comer slated to move up the ranks fast, Officer Betsy Rogers was well-known in the upper circles of the police department. The divisions were preemptively fighting over her, but Lionel knew he would win and get her in Homicide. They were all just biding their time until she took her detective exam.
“How did Rogers end up with a case that wasn’t prosecuted?” Lionel asked. “She’s a great officer and seals up her cases pretty tight.”
“I’m not sure. You want me to get her up here?”
“Right away,” Lionel said. “Something is completely off with this victim. First the smoking, the personal attack with mutilating her face, and now this. I think Rogers may have some answers for us, even if she doesn’t know it. I don’t care what she’s doing or where she’s working. Track her down and I’ll get clearance from the top to pull her.”
“You got it.” Shawn ran off toward the main hallway.
As Lionel headed to the Chief’s office to get approval to pull Officer Rogers from her duties, his mind raced. Since the case started ten and a half weeks ago with the first body, he was never closer to catching this killer than he was now. The killer had been captured on a security tape before he took Lucy Kim, and was seen by a homeless man as he dumped Jillian’s body.
With Jillian’s identification, they had more questions that indicated more mistakes. Somewhere in their building was an officer who knew more about their case than she realized, and she might just be the key to preventing Stephanie Price from suffering a horrific death.
Chapter Forty-two
“Would you like some hot tea? It’s kind of a chilly day out there.”
Emily smiled at Lindsay Alcott. “I would love some tea. Any kind is fine with me.”
“I had just put the kettle on when you came over,” Lindsay said. “You look like you take a couple teaspoons of sugar.”
Emily’s smile grew. “You’re very good at this.”
“I wish I could be more accommodating. Ever since...” Lindsay trailed off and lowered herself into the recliner next to the couch. “Well, let’s just say that I haven’t had it much together.”
“That’s completely understandable, and you’ve been more than acco
mmodating.” She leaned back into the plush couch and sorted through her thoughts about how to approach Lindsay to get the most information from her. Recognizing Lindsay’s frayed appearance, she settled on casual conversation. Hoping to put Lindsay at ease, Emily had already opted not to bring a notepad to take notes. Appearing official in any manner might hinder their conversation.
“You’re not a cop, are you?”
Emily had heard the same question a hundred times. “No, I’m a private investigator. My firm helps the police out from time to time, and they asked me to come here and speak with you today.”
Lindsay’s shoulders dropped and she relaxed in her chair. “When Lieutenant Edwards said you were coming over this afternoon, I was worried it would be all the same questions I’ve answered before. I’m so tired of answering the same questions.”
“I can’t promise that I won’t ask you some of the same questions, but I’m really just here to listen to you. You can talk about whatever you want, even if it’s not directly related to Stephanie.”
The shrill whistle of the tea kettle jerked Lindsay in her chair. Her hand landed on her chest. “I’m sorry. I’m a little on edge since Stephanie went missing. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be right back with our tea.” Lindsay breezed past Emily and into the kitchen.
Emily took the opportunity to roam around the living room. The house had charming, vintage décor that seemed much older than the two women who lived there, both of whom were in their late twenties. The small living room had just enough space for a brick fireplace, allowing occupants to keep warm during the harsh winter nights.
On the fireplace mantel, Emily examined framed photographs. The left side appeared dedicated to Stephanie and her family, while the right side had photos of Lindsay and her family. Pictures of the women together in various locations sat in the center of the mantel. An exotic beach, the St. Louis arch, and the Grand Canyon were just a few of their travel destinations depicted in the photographs.
“We love to travel together.”
Emily whirled around at the sound of Lindsay’s voice. “I can tell. From the looks of these photos, you’ve been far more places than I ever have.”
Lindsay placed two teacups with coasters on the glass coffee table. “We probably could afford to rent a house twice this size, but instead we save our money and pick another vacation spot. We’re going to Canada in two months.”
Emily made her way back to the couch. She settled into the cushions and took a sip of the steaming tea.
Lindsay tugged on her necklace and looked off in the distance. “Stephanie is so excited to go. She picked out the location, hotel, everything.” Tears welled in her eyes and her voice softened. “She always does such a good job planning our trips. We will never stop traveling together, no matter if we’re both married with fourteen kids each.”
Emily set her teacup on the coffee table. She decided to change the subject to help get Lindsay’s mind off the fact that she might not see her best friend again. “Where did you two meet?”
“In high school. She was such a tomboy back then. I was the girly girl and I kept trying to put makeup and a dress on her like she was my personal, life-size doll.” Lindsay laughed. “She hated me for it, but even though we were complete opposites we clicked so well. I knew from the minute we met that she would be my best friend for the rest of my life.”
Emily crossed her arms, leaned back, and listened to Lindsay tell stories of their youth for the next half hour. It all seemed very similar to her own story with Cassie. While neither of them had been tomboys in high school, once they met it was as if they were destined to become best friends.
The more stories she told of the two, the more Lindsay’s emotional pain became real for Emily. She couldn’t imagine her life without Cassie. It would be like losing a chunk of her soul and she would probably never recover from it.
“Are you going to tell Lieutenant Edwards and Sergeant Brandt everything we talk about today?” Lindsay asked.
Lindsay’s earlier question about whether Emily was a cop came back to mind. “Not necessarily. I’ll only tell them things if it’s relevant to their search for Stephanie. Is there something you want to tell me that you don’t want the police to know?”
“It’s not related to Stephanie’s disappearance,” Lindsay said. “It’s stupid, really, and I’m not sure why I would bring it up, except I feel like I can confide in you.”
Emily moved to the edge of the couch cushion and touched Lindsay’s arm. “Nothing you tell me is stupid. As long as it doesn’t affect the investigation like you say, I won’t tell the police anything. If what you say might help their investigation, I’ll give you the courtesy of letting you know that I need to tell them.”
“You’re definitely not a cop,” Lindsay said. “They would never be that good about things like this.” She let out a sigh. “When I met Stephanie, we were both going through a pretty rough time. She was a stutterer and had been for most of her life. Even though she went through therapy to help her, most of the kids in high school knew about her previous problems, so it was still tough for her sometimes.”
“Kids can be cruel, but it sounds like she has a good friend in you.”
“She helped me as much as I helped her. See, I’m psychic, in a strange sort of way.”
The hairs on Emily’s arms bristled and she tried to keep her composure. “What do you mean?”
“It’s not like those who claim to see the future or talk to the dead. Those people are just out to steal money from the vulnerable and unsuspecting. I sense things. At times it’s stronger than others, but it’s always things that a normal person wouldn’t know.”
The conversation was virtually identical to the one Emily had with Tara Murphy a few days earlier at the memorial service for Diane Murphy.
“When I met Stephanie, it was as if a puzzle piece of who I am snapped into place. Whenever we’re around each other, my psychic tendencies are much stronger than when we are not together.”
“So, when you said earlier that you haven’t had it together since she disappeared—”
“Part of that is because of the way she helps my gift function,” Lindsay said. “I never could understand it, but that’s how it works for me. Stephanie helped me out in high school as I was trying to figure out what was wrong with me, so maybe that has something to do with it.”
Emily withdrew her hand from Lindsay’s arm. What she described was how Emily felt with Cassie and the strength that Cassie brought to her gift. Even Lindsay’s experiences in high school and how Stephanie helped her cope with her gift reminded Emily of how Cassie helped her in high school.
In just the past few days, Emily had met two women connected to the case who were like her. The chances of that happening in even a year were very slim. That the women were close with two of the killer’s victims couldn’t be a coincidence.
She didn’t know what it all meant, but there was someone who could help her make sense of everything. Aunt Susan’s friend, Marta Mendez, had far more experience with these things than Emily. Not only could she explain these coincidences, but she could help Emily figure out why the victims called her name, and how to banish the darkness from her mind before it completely took over.
Chapter Forty-three
At first glance, Officer Betsy Rogers was a homely girl who seemed to be both unconcerned with her appearance and unable to restrain an out-of-control suspect. Both assumptions were untrue. Department guidelines allowed women to wear only minimal or natural makeup to remain professional, unless an undercover assignment required otherwise. Likewise, all female officers wore their hair in such a manner that it did not touch their uniform collars.
Officer Rogers opted for no makeup and a tight bun, and her appearance reflected the pride of her position within the force. Her small stature fooled many, but Lionel was well aware that her physical capabilities far outweighed many of the male officers in her division.
Lionel rose from his chair when Office
r Rogers entered his office with a notepad and pen clutched to her chest. He greeted her, and gestured to the chair across from him. “Please, have a seat.”
“Thank you, sir.” The subtle shakiness in her voice conveyed her nerves about the meeting and her concern about why he had taken her off her patrol route mid-shift.
“Officer Rogers, I understand you want to play with the big boys in homicide after you pass your detective exam.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Most rookie detectives have to pay their dues in other divisions before coming to homicide. Why should we treat you any different?”
“Sir, my test scores are off the charts. I spent four years in the United States Marine Corps and earned high commendations. I have a bachelor’s degree in Criminal Justice, which I obtained while a rookie on the force, and I graduated summa cum laude.”
Lionel smiled. “I didn’t ask for your résumé.”
Officer Rogers relaxed a bit in her chair. “My father was a homicide detective with the LAPD for ten years. He transferred to the Wichita Police Department and finished out his career here before he passed away. My grandfather also was a homicide detective for the LAPD for most of his career until he retired.”
“I understand your four older brothers are also detectives. One here in Wichita, one in Omaha, and two in Kansas City. Are they also in homicide?”
“No, sir. They are still working their way up.”
“And you want to beat them.”
She allowed a small smile. “Yes, sir.”
“So why not go to the LAPD? With your high test scores and your family history, they would snatch you up without question. They’re far more prestigious than this small, Midwest town.”