Red Red Rose (9 page)

“That’s
alright. We’ll be getting her files from the school and that will tell us if
there is a connection to you or Emily.”

“Why
does it matter, though? Why do you want to know if Emily or I knew her?”

He
pulled a small clear bag from the file and slid it across the table to me. Both
James and I leaned in to take a closer look. I recognized what was in it
immediately.

“Where
did this come from?” My eyes lowered again to the business card from Urban
Grind.

“It
was in Laney’s hand when her body was discovered.”

“What?”
My eyebrows shot up.

 “Now
you see why we’re trying to find a connection between Laney and Emily. The card
being left in her hand is too much of a coincidence with Emily’s disappearance.”

“What
do you think it means?” James voiced the same question that was on my mind.

“We
have several theories and are exploring each possibility, which is why I wanted
to speak to you,” he directed to me. “We’re trying to establish a connection
between Laney, your friend and the killer. If this does have anything to do
with Emily’s disappearance, which at this point we can’t say, considering she
does not fit the profile of the victims–”

“But
you think the same guy might have my sister?” James interrupted.

“Like
I said, as far as your sister’s link to this case, what we’re going off of is
theory and speculation until we know more. It’s possible that Emily was just in
the wrong place at the wrong time and saw or knew something she shouldn’t have.”

“Emily
colored her hair red a few times during college,” I spoke up, the thought just
coming to me. “If Emily knew Laney, and Western is the connection, then maybe
the killer knew Emily when she had read hair?” It seemed a stretch. Emily had
been back to her natural color now since before we graduated, but it was the
only thing I could think of.

“That’s
certainly a possibility. I don’t think we had that noted in her file. We’ll
continue to see if we can find a connection in their school records. Can you
think of anyone back then, a boyfriend, classmate or someone who might have
pursued Emily, that would have had a hard time letting go or accepting
rejection.”

 I
shook my head. “No. I mean Em liked to have fun, and she dated a lot of guys,”
I swallowed guiltily, knowing she wouldn’t want James to hear this, but I’d
already had to give him the rundown on some of her dating history. This wasn’t
any worse. “She wasn’t always the most selective and went out with a few jerks.
She also broke a few hearts and had a lot of admirers, but no one was ever that
hostile with her after being rejected. She never complained of having any
stalkers or anything like that. The only one who really worried me was her ex,
Jason Reeves.”

Parker,
recognizing the name, jumped in. “We spoke to Mr. Reeves following the missing
persons report being filed. He was along for the ski trip Emily was on with her
friends. The two of them had several verbal altercations before Emily left the
trip a couple days early. The rest of their friends vouch for the fact that
Jason remained through the weekend, and his credit card statements show
purchases made at the resort to back it up.”

Monroe
nodded at Parker, satisfied, and then looked back at me. “Is there anyone else?
We suspect this guy to be in his mid-twenties to early thirties, likely
good-looking and non-threatening as it appears he gets the girls to go with him
willingly. At the very least, he’s able to get close enough to subdue them
without setting off any internal alarms as we’ve seen no signs of fight on the
girls. He’s intelligent and has a high attention to detail. Meticulous almost.
Has a need to be in control and probably doesn’t do well with authority
figures.”

“I’m
sorry. I can’t think of anyone, and I’ve already spent the last two weeks racking
my brain to come up with who and why someone would have had a reason to hurt
her, and I just don’t know.”

“If
either of you do think of anything, even if it seems small, don’t hesitate to
call Detective Parker or myself.” He pulled two business cards from his jacket
and handed them to us. Then he started gathering everything back into his file,
including the notes he made while we talked.

There
was just one more thing I wanted to ask that was bugging me, but I didn’t know
if I could bring myself to ask the question. We all stood from our seats and I
tried to steel myself.

“Agent
Monroe?”

“Yes?”
He looked up from the file he was gathering into his hands.

“If
it’s the same guy who took those other girls, why hasn’t . . .” I couldn’t
bring myself to voice it, but he knew what I was asking and he gave me a
sympathetic look.

“I
wish I could give you a definite answer, but the truth is, until we know more,
I can’t say. The fact that she hasn’t turned up like the others could mean
several things.” He was reluctant to elaborate, but it wasn’t good enough for
me.

“Like
what? That you just haven’t found her body yet?” I croaked angrily, surprised
at how quickly my emotions were coming up. I couldn’t help it though. I’d been
wondering it for days. There were lakes all over western Washington. Each girl
had been dumped at a different spot along one of them. Who was to say Emily
wasn’t already out there, waiting to be found? Most of the girls had gone
undiscovered for several days or longer before someone came across them. Even
though I knew state troopers, park rangers and game and wildlife officers had
been put on alert to be patrolling all the lakes in the area, they couldn’t
cover every inch.

“Like
I said, Miss Scott, there are several possibilities. We have just as much
reason to believe she’s alive and will continue to look for her as if she is.
We also can’t ignore the possibility that these two cases might be unrelated
and Emily’s disappearance is being used as a convenient move to throw off our
investigation into this serial case. These types of predators are usually
tracked through their victims. The profiles we establish, based off not only
the evidence and MO, but the victims chosen, tell us a lot about the
perpetrators. Taking false credit for another victim that doesn’t fit in the
already established victimology, changes things. But we still have every
confidence we will track this guy down.”

His
confidence did very little to boost mine. “So what happens now?”

“Now,
you both go home and let us do our jobs. We’ll be in touch if we have any more
questions, and remember, if either of you think of anything, or you see or hear
anything that gives you pause or even just a bad feeling, don’t hesitate to
call. Nora, you especially need to be vigilant. If Emily knew her abductor, it
is likely you’ve had contact with this person as well. He disposed of her purse
behind your business, which means he was there.”

The
entire ride back to the shop to get my car and then the drive home, I couldn’t
stop thinking about what Agent Monroe said. It was unsettling enough to think
that whoever was responsible might be watching, but that it could be someone I
knew . . . there was just no way. But the seeds of doubt and suspicion had been
planted.

I
hoped they figured it out soon. I didn’t want to look up every time the door to
my shop opened and wonder if the person walking in the door could have had
anything to do with Em or the other girls.

“Damn
gremlins,” I grumbled, as I rifled through Emily’s suitcase, the one she hadn’t
gotten the chance to unpack. I found it just inside the door when I came home
that night. I’d lugged it back to her room where it sat unpacked since.

“What’s
up?” I jumped at the voice, spinning around to see James in the doorway.

I
set my hand over my racing heart. “You startled me. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Just
got back. Heard you in here muttering about gremlins.” He crossed his arms in
front of his chest and leaned against the doorframe. “You have a pest problem?
I’m not sure if the Ghostbusters handle gremlins, but you might be able to give
them a call.”

I
chuckled and stood. “You have their number? I’ve got gremlins or ghosts or some
sort of thieving creature.”

“Lose
something?”

“Maybe,”
I let out a resigned breath. “I thought I’d find them in here. Emily and I are
always borrowing each other’s stuff, but no luck finding what I’m looking for.”
I’d misplaced several things over the past couple weeks.

“I
think maybe my dryer is eating my laundry, but instead of sticking to the usual
socks, mine has developed a taste for everything, including my underwear.” I
brushed past him into the hall and sent an evil glare at the pantry where said
dryer was. The dryer didn’t explain my missing jewelry though, which is why I’d
decided to search Em’s stuff. We’d been living together so long it was
sometimes easy to forget whose stuff was whose.

“This
is the first time I’ve heard of a dryer devouring underwear,” he gave me a
teasing grin.

I
sighed, “I suppose it all might turn up if I cleaned my room.” I pushed open
the door directly across from Em’s. It wasn’t exactly messy, but with the hours
I worked, it was known to get a little cluttered, usually with stacks of folded
laundry I didn’t bother to put away, and occasionally piles of dirty laundry
that had yet to find their way to the washer. Currently, it looked as if every
dresser drawer and hanger in my closet was probably empty, because my clothes
were all over the place. The piles were made worse by the digging I did through
them earlier trying to locate the missing goods.

“I
guess I know what I’ll be spending the evening doing. If you have any laundry
you want done, you can toss it in the bin by the washer and I’ll throw it in
with mine,” I offered. “And if you give me a little bit of time to get a load
started, I can probably throw together something for dinner.”

He
unfolded his arms and stepped out of the doorway into mine, gripping the top of
the doorjamb. “Throw in a backrub and I might just ask you to marry me.”

I
rolled my eyes and gave him a shove, forcing him out of the doorway. “Right.
I’ll believe you’re ready to settle down when I see the ring.”

He
slipped away with a quiet chuckle and I began gathering up dirty clothes. I
took them out to the laundry room and started stuffing the washer. James
appeared with a few things of his own that I shoved in with mine. I tossed in
some soap and slammed the lid down, hitting the button to start the cycle. “Now
let’s go see what I can rustle up in the kitchen.”

I
hadn’t been shopping in almost two weeks, so options were limited, but I found
chicken breasts in the freezer and some pasta and a jar of sauce in the
cupboard. “Chicken alfredo it is,” I declared, and looked over at James.

“You
won’t hear me complain about anything you want to make. You cook it, I’ll eat
it.”

He
moved into the living room and claimed the TV while I whipped up our dinner.
The rest of the night was pretty quiet. We ate and watched sitcoms while I
worked my way through the mountain of laundry, even getting it folded and some
of it put away.

James
ducked his head inside my open door when I was putting away socks. “So, what’s
the verdict? Do you have gremlins or a possessed dryer, or did you find your
things?”

“Don’t
know yet. Haven’t found what I was looking for, but I’ve still got another load
or two to sort through, and I need to put those piles away.” I waved my hand at
the stacks of clothing that covered the chair and small desk in my room from the
last time I did laundry. “My money’s on gremlins though.”

“Well,
I’m going to turn in. I didn’t make it to a gym today, so I’m going to try to
hit one first thing in the morning. Then my dad needs help around the property,
so I’ll be out there most of the day.”

“Okay.
There’s a gym just a couple blocks from the shop. My friend Will is a trainer
there. I’ve never been in, because me and gyms don’t get along, what with all
that sweating, but I think it’s a good place. You should check it out. I’m sure
they do weekly passes or something for while you’re in town.”

“Okay,
I might hit it up. Thanks.”

His
head disappeared and I heard him shut himself inside the bathroom. I finished
putting away the stack in my arms, disappointed that my favorite shirt, one of
the many missing items, hadn’t turned up. I got it at the
Ashes and Embers
concert
Emily took me to a couple years ago. We got to meet the band and I had them
sign it with one of those fancy fabric Sharpies. I was going to be pissed if it
didn’t turn up eventually.

The
bathroom door opened and James popped his head in one more time to say
goodnight. I grabbed my pajamas and headed for the shower. By the time I
dragged myself back out and took a few extra minutes to blow-dry my hair so I
wouldn’t wake up looking like something from an eighties hair band, the house
was dark and quiet.

I
didn’t know if James already had, but to be safe, I did a quick sweep of all
the doors and windows making sure everything was locked up tight before
crawling into bed and chasing after that elusive sleep. It was a while before
my mind quieted enough for me to find it. That damn card they found on Laney
kept taunting me.

The
sick freak had put it in her hand. But why? Was he fucking with everyone, or
was he trying to tell us he had Emily? Or used to have her.

No.

I
refused to believe that she wasn’t still alive.

If
this guy had her, then he was keeping her alive for something. There was
something about Emily. She was different from the other girls and it had to
mean something important.

Or
maybe that was why he hadn’t dumped her. He didn’t want her found.

No.

I
couldn’t think like that. I wouldn’t give up on her. She was out there. I
shuddered to think of what might be happening to her at this very moment. Was
she hurt? She had to be scared. The authorities had kept a tight seal on the strangler
case, releasing very little about what the girls had endured before their
deaths. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to know.

That
brought me back to something else I’d heard in the news reports and one of
Agent Monroe’s theories. It was presumed that each of the girls went willingly
with their abductor. No signs of a fight or struggle. Did Emily know her
attacker?

Did
she go with him willingly?

Did
she think he was a friend?

Someone
she could trust? She was upset after her ski trip was ruined. It was an annual
trip she’d been taking with friends from high school since they graduated
Bellingham High. I never went, even though she’d often invited me. I didn’t
know most of them. I graduated high school in Everett. I wished I had gone this
time. Then she wouldn’t have come home alone after fighting with Jason. She’d
dated him through most of high school and stayed with him through our freshman
year of college. He was a real piece of work and their break-up hadn’t been
pretty. He did a number on her and I had no doubt he was the source of her
reluctance to get in deep with a guy again. I could only imagine what she’d
been feeling when she made it home from the mountain.

The
last thing she would have wanted to do was sit home and wallow. Em wasn’t a
wallower. She wasn’t a Ben & Jerry’s kind of girl. She was a rum and coke
until she couldn’t think straight, let alone feel any pain, kind of girl. Her
other drug of choice was men.

She
didn’t always tell me about the guys she was seeing. She knew I didn’t exactly
agree with her coping mechanism and loose lifestyle. I thought she was too
reckless. I warned her that one of these days she was going to go home with the
wrong guy. What if that’s what happened? What if she unknowingly hooked up with
a killer? Climbed right into his car, thinking she was going to have a good
night, and instead found herself trapped in a nightmare.

 Whoever
had her, they were going to be caught. I had to believe that. With the cops and
the FBI looking for him, he wouldn’t be able to evade them forever. The FBI
knew what they were doing, and maybe this guy had actually done me a favor by
putting that business card in Laney’s hand. Before, the police weren’t putting
a whole lot of effort into Emily’s case, but now that she might be tied to the
rest of them, she was a priority too.

Maybe
that was his mistake. In the books and on TV, the killers always got too cocky,
thinking they were untouchable, playing games and taunting the cops. That’s
when they’d slip up and usually when they were caught. Maybe Emily was his
mistake. Maybe she would be the one to lead them to the killer. If he had her.

I
didn’t know which idea was worse, that she was in the hands of a serial killer,
or that there were two dangerous predators out there.

In
reality, I didn’t want to think of just how many were really out there. We
probably walked by them on the streets, stood in line behind them at the
grocery store, or interacted with them in some way on a daily basis. How well
did most of us even really know our neighbors and the people living around us?

It
was frightening.

Even
when this was all over, which I hoped would be soon, I didn’t know if I would
ever be able to look at the world the same, without seeing potential monsters
everywhere.

I
wondered how guys like Detective Parker and Agent Monroe slept at night. They
lived and breathed this stuff. Saw the worst of people and society, day in and
day out. I wouldn’t be able to do it without going crazy, or completely losing
my faith in humanity. I wasn’t sure that I’d ever be able to watch another
episode of Criminal Minds. It was all too real now. Serial killers, MO’s, FBI
profiles. It hit home now.

My
dreams were anything but peaceful when sleep finally took pity on me.

~~~~

I
lifted my beer glass to my lips, and let the cold brew wash the bitter taste
from my mouth. That asshole was with her again tonight. Standing guard. I couldn’t
risk sneaking inside with him there. That hadn’t stopped me from paying a visit
earlier in the day, when no one was home. I’d been in her room. Touched her
things. Laid on her bed. It smelled like her. So sweet.

Very
soon I would have her in my arms and envelop myself in her scent. I’d feel her
skin beneath my touch again. Taste her lips. I’d taste all of her. Explore
every inch of her body. The body that belonged to me. Had always belonged to
me. I would show her and she would remember. She would know that she was mine.
She would never leave me again and I wouldn’t let anyone take her from me.

I
knew we were meant to be together. I knew it from the very first time she ever
smiled at me. Then she was taken away. Kept from me. I thought she was lost to
me forever. I tried to forget her, but every time I closed my eyes I saw her
face. I would grow hard just thinking of her. I attempted to sate my need with
other females, but none of them could ever come close to her. Not even the ones
that reminded me so much of her. They weren’t her. They could never be. They’d
all let me down, disappointed me.

She
wouldn’t disappoint me though. I knew it. She was perfect. She’d been perfect
back then, and she was still perfect when I found her again. I watched her for
a while, to make sure she was still my sweet girl. I learned everything about
her, and more than ever I knew I had to have her. She hadn’t known me though
that first day I chanced to bump into her. She’d looked at me and smiled, not a
drop of recognition on her face. At first I’d been angry. So angry and
disappointed, but then I realized I couldn’t blame her. It wasn’t her fault she
didn’t know me anymore. It had been so long since they’d taken her away from me
and I hardly looked the same. She had changed too, but I knew underneath, she
was still my girl.

I
knew it was my chance to get close to her, to show her how perfect I could be
for her, how perfect we could be together, and then when the time was right, I
would tell her who I really was, and she would see that we were always meant to
be. But then that bitch ruined everything, and messed up my plans. She was
nothing and would pay for trying to get in my way. They were all nothing, meant
nothing. There was only one who mattered. I would make her see that, see that
she was the only one who’d ever meant anything to me.