Her Dying Breath (34 page)

She froze, then reached inside her purse for her derringer, pulling it out as she listened for sounds of an intruder. But she heard no voices or footsteps, only the whistle of the wind seeping through the open window in the kitchen. The window that overlooked the backyard and patio.

The window she’d left shut.

Gripping her gun at her side, she inched inside, checking the den, then her office space. Nothing amiss.

But when she crept into her bedroom, her heart accelerated.

Something was lying on the pillow on her bed. A roll of piano wire. The kind of wire the killer had used to strangle her victims.

And something else.

Something in a plastic bag.

Swallowing back a scream, she inched closer, peering down at the bag and its contents.

Dear God. It looked like slices of skin. The skin Seven had taken from her victims.

Brenda turned to run, but suddenly something hard slammed against her head and she went down, the world tilting until there was nothing left at all but the darkness.

N
ick needed to purge his anger over his father. Why he’d thought Arthur Blackwood would ever give up the killer, he didn’t know. The man was a monster who had no compassion or feelings for anyone.

Including his two sons.

Ancient feelings of betrayal and anger festered inside him, threatening to explode.

His cell phone trilled, causing him to jump. Goddammit, he had to get a grip.

He saw it was Jake, so he jerked the phone up. “Hello.”

“Nick, you won’t believe this, but I just received an anonymous call saying that Brenda is our killer.”

Nick scratched his head. “What in the hell are you talking about?”

“I know it sounds crazy.”

“Was it a female who called?”

“Hard to tell. The voice had been altered by a computer.”

Nick’s stomach rolled. “What exactly did the caller say?”

“That Brenda had been in Slaughter Creek Sanitarium as a patient at one time.”

Jesus. That was true.

“That she killed the senator’s son.”

“I don’t believe that,” Nick said, although his mind raced over the past few weeks’ events. “The killer was one of the Commander’s subjects. Brenda wasn’t part of the experiment.”

“But…” Jake hesitated. “I checked, and Brenda was in the hospital at one time, Nick. She’s also the right age. What if she was part of the experiment, but she didn’t exhibit the same overt side effects as the other subjects? She could have sent those texts to herself.”

Nick turned his car around and headed the opposite direction toward Brenda’s. There had to be another explanation. “I still don’t believe it. The Bankses would never have allowed their daughter to be used like the others.”

“Maybe they didn’t know,” Jake muttered.

Nick contemplated that possibility.

Jake cleared his throat. “You know some criminals insinuate themselves into investigations just for the thrill of watching the police chase their tails.”

And to throw off the cops. “It’s not possible, Jake. We’ve known Brenda half our lives.”

“Find out what’s going on,” Jake said. “Why Brenda was at the sanitarium.”

He knew the reason, but he didn’t want to share that with Jake. Not yet.

But he would if he had to.

“I’ll go talk to her,” Nick said.

He hung up, agitated, as he sped around the mountain. Every phone call and conversation he’d had with Brenda repeated itself in his head. Brenda’s shocked reaction to the murders—she’d nearly been sick when they’d found Mason’s body in the woods. And she had known Ron Stowe.

She’d also insisted on coming with him to the crime scenes and to see his father. And the Commander had tried to choke her.

Why had he jumped her? Because she was one of his subjects?

Disbelief made him grit his teeth. He had been with Brenda, he
knew
her…

Except he’d thought earlier that the killer had been one step ahead of them since the first murder. Was it possible that he’d been blinded by his feelings for Brenda? That his lust for her had prevented him from seeing that she was using him to keep abreast of the investigation?

Had she known his father in the sanitarium?

Hell, she could have insisted on meeting with him to reconnect.

And what about the Bankses? Wouldn’t they have known something was wrong?

She was adopted…

Good God. She could have been part of the experiment before Agnes and William Banks took her into their home and raised her as their own.

He punched the number for the forensics lab and asked to speak to the computer analyst. “This is Special Agent Nick Blackwood. Did you find anything on Stowe’s computer?”

“Yes. Three of the women in the tapes are high-priced call girls. They work through a service called Maiden Delights.”

So Stowe was paying for sex. “Send me and Sheriff Blackwood a list of their names, as well as the contact information for the site.”

“It’s on its way.”

“How about Stowe’s e-mails and social media sites?”

“He scoured several porn sites and chat rooms for sexual sadists. His user name was Honey Bear.”

Nick frowned. “Can you cross-reference names of women on those sites and at Maiden Delights with anyone he may have had contact with in a work situation? Look for employees and volunteers, especially ones who’ve just come on board.”

“That’ll take a while. I’ll get back to you.”

“Thanks.” Nick hung up just as he veered into the parking lot at Brenda’s development and threw the car into a space. He texted Jake that the analyst was sending over some names for them to check out, then opened his door, jumped out, and jogged up to Brenda’s condo.

His stomach clenched when he found the front door ajar. “Brenda?”

He reached for his gun as he crept inside. The sheers fluttering in the den drew his eyes to the open patio doors. He ran a quick visual check of the living area and kitchen.

But no one was inside.

Still, his senses told him something was wrong. Where the hell was Brenda?

He slowly inched his way toward the bedroom and found her lying on the floor, unconscious.

Dear God. He hoped she was alive.

Brenda stirred, the sound of a voice drifting through the fog in her brain. Nick?

“I’m here,” he said softly. Then she realized that she was on the floor, and he was kneeling beside her. “Wake up, sweetheart.”

She twisted her head, and felt him gently stroking her cheek. “Just lie still. I’ll call a medic.”

“No, I’m okay,” Brenda said, blinking to bring him into focus. Her memory returned abruptly, and she jerked at his shirt. “Someone was here,” she whispered. “She left something on the bed.”

He glanced sideways, and she tried to sit up, but she was so dizzy she swayed. He scooped her into his arms and eased her onto the chaise in the corner. “Did you see who broke in?” Nick asked.

“No, I just saw the open window. Smelled…something…then she hit me.” She rubbed at her head, angry now that she’d let the killer escape.

Nick’s feet pounded as he crossed the room to the bed. “What the fuck?”

“It’s piano wire and a baggie—”

“With skin she took from the victims—her trophies,” Nick finished in a disgusted tone.

Tension vibrated in the air, electric with questions and Brenda’s own fear.

Nick removed gloves from his pocket and pulled them on before picking up the baggie. “I need to send this to the lab. Maybe the killer’s DNA is on it.”

She hoped so. She wanted to stop this madness now.

Her head throbbed, but she massaged the knot, her mind beginning to process what had happened. “If Seven was here, Nick, why didn’t she just kill me?”

Nick turned and faced her, his face cast in shadows, the angles and planes harsh in the dim light. “Good question.”

Brenda frowned at his impersonal tone. “Why would she leave me her trophies? Do you think that means she’s finished?”

“No.” He walked over to her, then stood, his hands on his hips. “Are you sure you didn’t see anyone when you arrived?”

Brenda nodded. “I don’t understand. First she contacts me with these limericks, and now she brings me this creepy stuff and knocks me unconscious.”

Nick dropped the baggie onto her dresser, flipped on a light, his gaze troubled.

“Did your attacker say anything?”

Brenda searched her brain. “No…at least not that I remember.” She stood and walked over to Nick. He was still staring at the baggie of skin, his jaw rigid. “Maybe she’s angry that I haven’t printed anything about the numbers she’s carving into the victims.”

The heat kicked on, whirring softly in the silence. “That’s possible.”

“What other explanation could there be?” She gripped his arm. “If she wanted to kill me, she could have.”

Nick’s voice dropped a decibel. “Maybe she has other plans.”

“Like what?” Brenda cried, frustrated. Her head was pounding like a jackhammer. Then the truth dawned.

“You think she’s planning to frame me for the murders?”

Nick’s eyes darkened, then he gave a slow nod. “Jake received a call earlier suggesting that you might be the unsub.”

Brenda’s heart began to pound. “Does Jake think I killed those men?”

The second it took Nick to answer made Brenda feel sick. Surely Nick didn’t believe that she was capable of murdering a man in cold blood…

Nick looked into Brenda’s tormented eyes, and knew she couldn’t be the demented woman who’d committed these serial murders.

Not Brenda.

She was tough, smart, obstinate, and infuriating at times, but she didn’t appear devious. And she certainly didn’t behave like a sociopath.

Sociopaths can look like normal people. Just look at the famous ones who blended into the crowd.

He walked to the window and glanced across the back wooded area. Was he allowing his lust for Brenda to cloud his judgment?

Brenda’s footsteps sounded behind him, then he heard her hiss of outrage. “Nick, you don’t really believe I’m the Slaughter Creek Strangler, do you?”

He should have answered more quickly, but the rational side of him was still running scenarios through his brain, filtering out the details and compartmentalizing what his gut told him and the facts the evidence pointed to.

“Killers often insinuate themselves into an investigation,” he said. “Jake received an anonymous call incriminating you. And now I find the killer’s trophies in your bedroom.”

“Nick?” This time her voice sounded agonized. “I realize this looks bad, but I sure as hell didn’t fake a head injury.”

His gaze met hers, and he didn’t try to hide the war in his eyes. Because he knew she had been at the sanitarium. And she still hadn’t opened up and shared that information.

But he was seasoned and trained to detect the truth. He wouldn’t be so attracted to her if she were lying, would he?

Then again, he did have his own dark side. And she’d gotten under his skin in a way no woman had.

Enough to blind him to the truth about her?

“Nick?” Brenda’s voice cracked. “I don’t know why Seven would implicate me, but I would never hurt someone the way she did.”

For the first time since they’d started the case, Brenda looked vulnerable. And not because someone had assaulted her—because she was worried about what he thought.