Race Against Time (19 page)

Oh, man, he had it bad. He shook his head and kept reading the instructions. Finally Madison came and sat beside him again. He was keenly aware of her presence, so much that the words began blurring across the paper for a moment. He forced himself to focus.

“Let’s take a test drive of these cameras.”

Madison stared at the screen. “So the cameras are on all the time? Recording everything that goes on outside?”

“That’s right. If the Suicide Bandit comes back, we’ll see him.”

He rewound the video feed. The crew had left two hours ago after installing the cameras and Brody had asked them to go ahead and start recording. He’d gotten a brief lesson on how the system worked over the phone. Now he wanted to put that knowledge into action.

Madison’s backyard showed up on the screen.

“That’s my yard with the grass that desperately needs to be cut,” Madison said with a smile.

“I can help you with that.”

He switched cameras and the front yard showed up, then switched again and saw the side yards, which included a view of his own home. It felt like forever since he’d actually lived in that house, but he didn’t mind. There were more important matters at stake.

The feed switched back to the front yard again.

“Seems pretty simple,” Madison said. “I can’t possibly pay for this, Brody. It looks expensive.”

“You’re not paying for it, Madison. You didn’t ask for the system to be put in, so it’s not your responsibility. I’m doing this as a part of the investigation.”

And it would cost him a pretty penny, but he wasn’t concerned about it. All he cared about was that Madison was safe and in order for her to be safe, they had to catch this guy.

Madison clutched his arm, her gaze widening as she stared at the screen. “What’s that?”

He leaned toward the monitor. A man wearing black slunk against the brick at the back of the house. The time stamp told him the recording had taken place an hour ago.

“It’s him,” Madison whispered, her grip on his arm tightening. “He was here. Today.”

Brody watched the man, who was cloaked in all black from head to toe. Once the man rounded the corner of the house, he paused. Then the man stepped away from the house. His head tilted toward the camera.

The ski mask the man wore only showed his eyes. Despite that, Brody was quite certain that the man was smiling.

Chills raced through him. The Suicide Bandit was more sinister than Brody had imagined. And coming from a New York City detective that said a lot.

SEVENTEEN

M
adison poured herself another cup of coffee but the chills wouldn’t go away. The image of the man outside her home seemed a permanent stain on her thoughts. She lowered herself onto the couch beside Brody and slowly released the air she held in her lungs.

She shook her head. “He’s mocking us, isn’t he? He knew we had the cameras installed and he came by just to let us know that he’s a step ahead of us.”

Brody ran a hand through his hair, leaving strands of it standing on end. “That’s certainly how it seems.”

“He has no fear. It was broad daylight again when he came by. He must be watching the house, just waiting for appropriate times to terrorize me.”

Brody slipped his arm around her and pulled her toward him until her head rested against his chest. She didn’t argue. In fact, she welcomed the embrace. She listened for a moment to the steady rhythm of his heart. The beat seemed to calm down her own racing pulse.

In the kitchen the soup boiled and the lid clanged against the pot in protest. The coffeepot grunted as the last bit of liquid percolated. The oven beeped, telling her it was ready for the brownies she’d whipped up earlier. Everything felt so normal. Yet nothing was normal.

The crime-scene unit was on their way to see if the man had left any evidence. Madison already knew that he hadn’t. He never did. Brody had found a couple of footprints around the outside of her house, thanks to the storm last night softening up the ground. But the footprint could have been left from the crew that had been over to install the cameras. It was hard to tell.

At least they had an image of the man from the camera. Certainly that would help the police…wouldn’t it? It verified, at least, that the man was built solid, that he was medium-tall, that he was probably fairly young and in good shape. That could describe a lot of people in town, though. Besides, the man didn’t even have to be from Seaford. There were surrounding communities where thousands of people lived, thousands of people, any of whom could be to Seaford in twenty minutes or less.

She needed to think about something else—anything else besides the killer.

She squeezed her eyes shut. Tomorrow was Sunday. Church day.

And tomorrow after church was the congregation’s annual summer cookout. How could she have forgotten? Lincoln had been looking forward to it, mostly because of the cornhole tournament that would take place there. She groaned and leaned her head against Brody.

“What is it?”

“It’s nothing. I just promised Lincoln we could go to the church picnic tomorrow. The last thing I feel like doing is being social right now, not with everything that happened.” She hadn’t felt like being social much since Reid had died, if she were to be honest with herself.

“It might be good for you, help you to feel halfway normal for a while. Of course with the hurricane coming, the whole event could be cancelled.”

“We never cancel our church picnics.” She smiled, saying the words lightly even though they were true. “Nothing comes between our congregation and food.” She turned toward him. “You should come.”

“Me—to church? I can’t even remember the last time I set foot inside a church building.”

“Then it’s time you do.”

“People will think I’ve lost my mind, that I have no place there.”

“You’re wrong. People will be thrilled to see you. Pastor Ray would love to meet you. I don’t know what you’ve done in the past, but there’s nothing that God can’t forgive.”

He stared at her a moment, and Madison tried to read the emotions that passed through his eyes. Finally, he kissed her forehead and pulled her toward him again. “Thank you, Madison.”

Madison wasn’t exactly sure what he meant, but her heart soared. Maybe he would finally let go of his past and embrace God.

* * *

After the crime-scene unit left, Madison turned to Brody. “I need to go get Lincoln. Kayla’s been an angel throughout all of this, and I’m so thankful to her. It helps that Lincoln adores her.”

Brody leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “How about if we drop the soup off at Mr. Steinbeck’s on the way there?”

“That would be perfect.”

Madison divided the soup into two large containers—one for them and one for Mr. Steinbeck. She hoped he liked chicken noodle. Soup always made her feel better. She placed the containers in two bags and added crackers and brownie squares.

They locked up the house and Brody helped her to carry the containers to the car. The wind had picked up since they were outside earlier, a sure sign of the coming storm. The forecast said that Hurricane Gabe was headed up the coast at the moment. It would probably diminish some by the time it reached Virginia’s coast, but the storm was sure to saturate everything, maybe even down some trees.

Mr. Steinbeck’s house wasn’t far from Madison’s—just down the lane where she lived and three blocks over. It was smallish with only a kitchen, living room and one bedroom. Madison had stopped by once before, right after she’d moved in, to let Mr. Steinbeck know that he could still use her pier.

Brody’s cell phone rang as they traveled. Madison waited until he’d hung up to ask about the hardened looked on his face. “Everything okay?”

“That was Daniel.”

“What did he want?”

“He read the article your reporter friend Mark wrote for the newspaper. As he was reading, something occurred to him that he thought could help us.”

“What was that?”

“He said that all of the crimes took place at a time when school was out. One over Memorial Day weekend, another on a teacher work day and the rest during the summer.”

“So he thinks the killer might be an employee of the school system?” she mused.

“It’s something worth exploring.”

“Mr. Steinbeck…”

Brody glanced over at her and nodded. “I know. He drives a school bus.”

As they pulled into the driveway of Mr. Steinbeck’s rundown home, Madison shivered. She spotted a car in the driveway. Good, Mr. Steinbeck might still enjoy the soup while it was fresh and warm. But was he guilty? Could he really be the killer?

Brody stepped out of the car with her. He was never far away and Madison had to admit that she appreciated it. Having him close felt good. It felt good to feel protected and cared for, even if she had no business feeling that way about him. She wished she wasn’t drawn to the man, but she had to admit that she was, like it or not.

At the moment, she liked it.

She picked up a copy of today’s newspaper from Mr. Steinbeck’s porch and rapped at the door. Several minutes passed with no answer. Madison glanced at Brody. “What do you think?”

“Maybe he’s around back. Can’t hurt to check.”

Carefully Madison stepped over the broken bricks on his front steps and walked across the cracked sidewalk to the chain-link fence at the side of his house. “Mr. Steinbeck?” she called.

Still no response.

His backyard looked just as neglected as the front. Despite all of the junk, Madison still didn’t see the fisherman.

“You could always leave the food on the front porch. I’m sure he’ll be back soon. Maybe he just went on a walk or something. The food should be okay for a couple of hours.”

As they walked back toward the front door, Madison glanced up at the window at the side of the house. She screamed and dropped the food. The container opened and soup splashed everywhere.

It didn’t matter. Mr. Steinbeck wouldn’t be eating anything tonight.

He was hanging from the ceiling fan in his living room.

* * *

Despite the heat, Brody slipped a blanket around Madison’s shoulders. The killer wasn’t even bothering to try and disguise the crimes through different suicide methods. He’d killed Mr. Steinbeck the way he’d tried to kill Madison.

She leaned against his sedan and stared at Mr. Steinbeck’s house, her skin pale and lifeless. He rubbed her arms a moment before pulling her into a hug.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” she answered, her voice listless.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I’m sorry Mr. Steinbeck is dead.”

“Everyone called him Fillet,” he pointed out. “No one thought of him as ‘William.’”

Her gaze met Brody’s, life suddenly returning to her eyes. “What did this note say?”

Brody swallowed, his throat dry. “The usual.”

“That’s not what I mean. What name did it spell?”

“It’s not important.”

Fire flashed in her eyes. “Of course it is. Brody, what aren’t you telling me?”

He pulled back and drew in a deep breath. “You don’t want to know, Madison.”

“Brody…”

He drew his lips together in a tight line. “Madison, the note spelled my name. It spelled ‘Brody.’”

* * *

The next morning as Madison sang about “Amazing Grace,” all she could think about was the suicide note left at Mr. Steinbeck’s house. She felt herself go pale every time she thought about the message left within the note.

Brody.

Her heart squeezed at the thought. Not Brody.
Please, Lord, not Brody.

Brody stood beside her as they sang. He looked surprisingly comfortable considering everything he’d told Madison about never being a regular churchgoer. Lincoln stood on the other side of her, occasionally finding the right word to sing but mostly staring at everyone around him. Before they sat down, the boy scooted around Madison and plopped himself between her and Brody. Madison couldn’t help but smile, thrilled that her son liked Brody. Nobody could ever replace Reid, but Lincoln certainly needed some male role models in his life. Brody seemed to be that person.

Or could he be a father figure to Lincoln? Madison chewed on her lip at the thought. The idea was gradually becoming one that she could grow to like. God was changing her heart because there was a time when she’d been totally closed to the notion of filling the void in her life. She’d thought she could never love again. But what if she could?

At the end of the song they all took their seats as Pastor Ray started his sermon. Madison’s gaze roamed the congregation. It didn’t seem to matter where she was—she never felt safe anymore, not even at church. Would she ever feel safe again?

She thought about Kayla and Daniel. The two of them seemed happy and content and settling into couple mode. Seeing them together made Madison’s heart flutter with the reminder of what new love was like.

Brody stretched his arm behind Lincoln, glancing down to grin at the boy in the process. Madison didn’t miss how Brody’s gaze swept over her also. He seemed to approve of the blue-striped sundress she’d picked for this morning. Against her will, pleasure warmed her cheeks.

She didn’t want to admit it, but Kayla and Daniel weren’t the only couple on the verge of a blossoming relationship. Madison knew that she felt those stirrings with Brody also. She pushed aside the thoughts to concentrate on the sermon. But between her confusion about her feelings and her fear for Brody’s life, she barely heard a word the pastor said.

* * *

“You’ve got to try some of Mildred’s fried catfish. It’s a classic at church picnics. Best in Seaford. Hands down.”

Brody raised his brows. “You’ve convinced me. I don’t normally like seafood, but will have to try some today.”

Madison pointed into the distance. “Look, Lincoln just challenged Daniel to cornhole. He thinks that since he beat you that he can beat anyone now.”

“The boy does have a good arm.”

Madison smiled up at Brody. “I think he had a great time playing with you.”