Abduction (16 page)

“The man who
is taking these little girls. He calls them his flowers. And after he kills
them, he plants them in his garden.”

“That was no
garden we found Gina in,” JJ reminded her.

“No. Not a garden. But wherever he places them
becomes a gar
den to him. We dug up his garden. He’s angry.”

JJ pulled into
her driveway and cut the engine. “What’s this about redheads and blonds?”

“Each time he
goes through the cycle. . . .” Another thought hit her. “He kills them and then
buries them. He considers their graves his garden.”

“How long has
he been doing this?”

If she was
surprised by his question, she didn’t let on. “Years. Not always here, local.
But he’s been doing this for years. He’s careful. Never more than two or three
at a time.”

“Because then
the Feds would be called in.”

Zoe turned to
him, her brow creased. “You should call them anyway. I know it’s procedure not
to call them until it’s obvious it’s a serial killer. This is. Call them.”

JJ scowled.
“Trust me, I have. And he confirmed that the Matthews baby doesn’t fit the
pattern.”

“You’re right.
So now what?”

“Now you get
out of my car so I can dig and see what I can find out about any
other
missing children.”

Zoe opened the
car door. At least he appeared to be taking her seriously. She closed the door
and leaned down to look at him. “He either lives near or works at a school.”

JJ didn’t
answer her as she stood back. He just pulled out of the driveway and sped away.

Shaking her
head, she moved quickly up the walk. She stopped at her front door and stared
at the small bundle of wildflowers tied with a ribbon. A hair ribbon. She
didn’t need to pick it up. She understood.

Zoe unlocked
the door, stepped over the flowers, and headed straight for the phone.
“Detective Johnson just dropped me off at home, so I know he’s still on the
road, but you need to tell him that I just got a message from the killer.”

#

Matt Casto’s
foot was tapping faster than eight cylinders at four thousand rpms. He had come
to take her to lunch. A surprise. Just to make sure she didn’t feel neglected.
And what had he found? She was laughing at some smooth-looking jerk in chinos
and a tie, her arm tucked ever so romantic-like in the crook of his arm. Going
out to lunch with some guy!

Going out with
someone else.

“Silly man,
do you really think she’ll wait forever? If you care at all, and you do, you’d
better do something about it. Someone else is already trying to draw her
attention away from you.”

Zoe Shefford’s words ploughed through his head,
mocking him. She’d been right. Someone was trying to take Paula away from him.
And he hadn’t even seen it coming. Paula wasn’t the flighty type. That’s what
he’d always loved about her. She was solid, dependable, always around when Matt
called. Ready at a moment’s notice if Matt suddenly found time off. Always
anxious to spend time with him.

And now
someone else was luring her away.

Slamming the
steering wheel with the palm of his hand, Matt turned the key, revving the
engine of his car. Fine. If that’s what she wanted, he wasn’t going to stand in
her way. He had work to do.

Tires squealed as he spun out of the parking space
and pulled into traffic. He ignored the blast of a horn when he cut someone
off.

#

Nora McCaine lifted Kaitlyn from her crib. “Awake
from your nap already, sweetheart?” She held her daughter close, breathing in
the scent of baby shampoo and baby powder the way a starving man
inhales
the smell of food. Cradling Kaitlyn, she sat down in the rock
ing chair and brought the bottle to Kaitlyn’s
little mouth. Kaitlyn latched on to it.

Nora smiled
softly. “We aren’t too hungry, are we? After you eat, would you like to take a
stroll in the park?”

Kaitlyn
continued to suck on the bottle.

“And then by
the time we get home it will be time to start dinner for Daddy.”

Nora and
Charles had spent nearly ten years trying to start a family, and with Kaitlyn’s
arrival they had finally found the happiness they’d wanted for so long. Both
had wanted a large family, but if Kaitlyn was all they were to ever have, they
would be satisfied.

Up until
Kaitlyn’s arrival, Nora had worked as a secretary for a law firm. Charles was a
stockbroker. Even without Nora’s salary, they continued to live comfortably.

By the time
Nora had finished feeding Kaitlyn and dressing her for a trip to the park,
Charles was coming in the front door. One look at his face and Nora knew
something was wrong.

“Charles? Why are you home so early? Did something
happen?”

“I just wanted
to work at home this afternoon. Stay close to my two favorite girls.” He kissed
Nora and then took Kaitlyn from Nora’s arms. “And how is my favorite daughter
today?”

“Charles,
what’s wrong?”

Charles sighed
as he kissed his daughter on the cheek and then handed her back to his wife.
“Did you see the news?”

Nora shook her
head. “No. Why?”

“There’s a
madman out there. He’s snatching little girls. I’d rather you didn’t take
Kaitlyn to the park for a few days. Not until they catch this guy.”

“I thought
that was over in Monroe County.” Just the thought of someone snatching her
daughter away was enough to make Nora hold on to Kaitlyn a little bit tighter.

“Monroe County
isn’t that far away. Less than a half-hour drive. I just don’t want to take any
chances. One baby was snatched right from her crib.”

“Oh, good heavens.” Nora started unbuttoning
Kaitlyn’s sweater
. “What kind of world do we live in?”

“It’s out of
control.” Charles slipped out of his suit coat and arranged it neatly on the
back of a chair. He picked up his briefcase. “I’m going to go work in the den
for awhile.”

“Charles?”

He turned
around in the doorway. “Yes?”

“No one will
take our baby, right?”

“I won’t let them, Nora. Don’t worry. I’ll keep my
two girls safe.”

#

JJ headed
straight for his boss. He knocked on Harris’s door and quickly received a
command to enter.

“I need
additional help. We have more work than we can handle. Give me a few more men.”

Harris looked
up, peering over the top of his glasses, blinking furiously. “How many?”

“Three.”

“Two. Take
Cole and Chapman.”

JJ shook his
head. Chapman was okay, but Barone was better. Much better. “Cole and Barone.”

Harris stared
at him a long moment. Finally, he nodded. “Cole and Barone.”

“Thanks.”

JJ grabbed the
door handle, looking to exit fast.

“And,
Johnson?”

JJ half
turned. “Yeah?”

“I want something
solid and I want it fast.”

“I’ll have it.
We’re close to nailing this guy.”

Harris nodded
and dropped his head, dismissing JJ and returning his attention to the papers
on his desk. Heaving a sigh of relief, JJ closed the door behind him. Close to
nailing this guy.
And pigs fly with red wings.

Fifteen minutes later, Chuck Barone stepped into
JJ’s office.
Barone was Italian. He was on the backside of forty, slight
of frame
with a small paunch and a receding
hairline. “You commandeered me?”

“Yeah. I need those most excellent research skills
of yours. We have a serial killer on our hands.” He nodded toward the stack of
files on the corner of the small conference table. “That’s everything we have.
I need you to go back over the past few years and see if you can find a
pattern.”

Barone nodded
as he reached for the stack of files. “How far back do you want me to go?”

“Find a pattern and keep going back until you don’t
see it
anymore.”

Barone blew
out a heavy breath. “You don’t ask much, do you?”

JJ smiled. “I
heard you were the best—that you could find patterns where they don’t even
exist. Find me a pattern.”

“You got it.”

“And, Chuck?”

“Yeah?”

“Quickly.”

“Yes, sir.”

Chuck was
barely out the door before Matt brushed past him, slamming down in the nearest
chair.

“I thought you
were having lunch with Paula.” JJ leaned back in his chair. “From the look on
your face, it didn’t go well.”

“She was on her way out to lunch with some GQ type
in loafers.”

JJ stared down
at his loafers. “What’s wrong with loafers?”

Matt glared at
him. “On you, they’re fine. On Mr. GQ, they’re disgusting.”

“I see.
Because he was taking Paula out to lunch. Maybe he’s just a coworker?”

“I don’t care
if he’s her boss!” Matt stood up, walked over to the window, and drew the
blinds. Sunlight spilled in. JJ blinked. “You should have seen her, with her
arm all tucked in his, laughing so sweetly at something he was saying, batting
her eyes at him. It was disgusting.”

“Paula doesn’t
bat her eyelashes.”

“She was
flirting with him!”

JJ reached
over and pulled the cord, dropping the blinds. “You flirt. How come it’s okay
for you and not for her?”

Matt began to
pace, his agitation amusing JJ, who hid a smile behind his hand.

“I don’t mean
anything when I flirt.”

“Maybe she
didn’t mean anything either.”

Matt spun
around. “Whose side are you on, anyway?”

JJ threw up
his hands. “Hey! Truce! I’m just trying to calm you down!”

Barone stuck
his head in the door. “How much of a radius do you want?”

“Go out a
hundred miles to start.”

Barone nodded
assent and then, casting a quick glance at Matt’s face, slipped quietly away.
“Look at that, Matt,” JJ said. “You scared off Barone. And he’s Sicilian.”

Matt dropped
into the nearest chair and ran his hands through his hair. “I never thought
she’d go out on me, ya know?”

“I’m sure it
was just an innocent lunch with a coworker. You need to talk to her about it.”

Matt shook his
head then leaned back, stretching his legs out in front of him. “I can’t, JJ.
It would look like I was spying on her.”

“You weren’t
spying, Matt. You showed up to take her out to lunch and saw her with some man.
She’ll tell you what happened, you’ll kiss and make up, and all will be fine.”

Matt’s eyes
narrowed. “Just you wait until you fall in love with someone. I’m going to
enjoy watching you flop around on the end of her hook.”

“Never happen,
my man. Never happen. Ain’t a woman born that can make me flop around on the
end of any hook.”

Matt choked out a laugh. “We’ll see.” Suddenly Matt
sobered. “Oh, by the way, Gerry found out Ted Matthews isn’t really Ted
Matthews. He changed his name. Right after his parents died in a freak fire.”

JJ squinted as
he picked up a message left taped to his stapler. He jumped to his feet. “Let’s
go.”

“What’s going
on?”

“Our serial
killer just left a message on Shefford’s doorstep.”

#

When the bell
over the door tinkled, Denise Shefford looked up and then smiled at the man
coming through the door. “May I help you with anything?”

“Just looking. Thought I’d get this woman friend
of mine
something special.”

Denise gave the
sweaters she was folding a final pat and walked toward him. “Well, we have
plenty of items that are special. Is there anything particular you had in
mind?”

“Something in
pink. She likes pink.”

Nodding, Denise led him over to a display of
scarves. He shook his head. “No, nothing like that. A sweater or shawl, maybe.
Or maybe something like that.” He pointed to a pink blouse hanging nearby with
a bouquet of flowers embroidered on the front. “That’s perfect.”

Denise lifted
one from the rack and looked at the tag. “It’s pure linen, but it is a bit
pricey. . .seventy dollars.”

“Seventy?” He
shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at it, as if having second thoughts.

“It’s imported
and of the highest quality.”

He merely
nodded and stared at it. Finally, he sighed. “I will take it.”

“What size?”

“Size?”

Laughing,
Denise leaned against the rack. This was not the first man to come in and have
forgotten or overlooked something so essential. “If you could tell me about how
tall she is, about how much she weighs.”

“Oh. Yeah.
Well. . .” He eyed Denise closely. “She’s about your size but a bit taller.”

Denise nodded
and hung the shirt back on the rack before searching for another size.
“Probably about an eight, then.”

He shrugged as
he looked around the shop. “Nice shop you have here. Are you Amy?”

Denise shook
her head as she carried the blouse to the register. “Amy was my daughter. I
named it after her.”

“Was?”

“She died
years ago.”

“That’s a
shame. Was she your only child?”

Smiling
wistfully, Denise removed the hanger and folded the blouse carefully in tissue.
“No. I have one other daughter. She works here with me from time to time.”

He leaned
against the counter, invading her space just enough to make her fumble with the
box. “That’s nice. Must give you pleasure to have her around you.”

Denise backed
up a step, still smiling, and slid the box into a shopping bag. “It does. A
great deal of pleasure.”

“Tough losing
a child.”

“Yes, it is.”
Denise wrote out the receipt and handed it to him. “Have you lost a child?”

He shook his head as he counted out the money. “No.
Can’t
say as I have. But I know others who have
. Sad thing.”