The Obsession (30 page)

It couldn’t be that fast. It couldn’t be that simple. It couldn’t
be
.

But it was. She didn’t have to have felt it all before to know what tripped and stumbled inside her.

She breathed in, breathed out, took a good glug of wine.

What happened next?

Nothing had to happen next, she assured herself. Everything just continued, it just kept going until . . . something. But right now, nothing happened.

She had pork chops to stuff.

She heard him laughing, talking to the dog out on the deck. She saw the lilacs—so lush, so sweet. And had to press the heel of her hand to her heart, order it to behave.

But she pulled out her phone, angled herself, and took several shots of the flowers.

By the time she began making the stuffing, she heard Mason’s voice and, glancing up, saw him step onto the deck from the stairs.

Xander moved into the opening. “We’ll get the table. The chairs are clean, but they’re still ugly.”

“Their charm is simply yet to be released.”

“Whatever. I’m going to want that food once we get the table up. It smells good.”

“Food’s an hour off.”

“That’ll do.”

While she finished the stuffing, they hauled up the farmhouse table. Mason stepped in.

“Are those . . . stuffed pork chops!”

“I know how to soften you up.”

He kissed her cheeks. “Thanks. Why did you buy such crappy chairs?”

“They won’t be crappy when they’re fixed.”

“If you say so. I like the table. Is that barn wood?”

“It is.”

“Built to last.”

She finished stuffing the chops, slid them into the oven, and stepped
out on the deck. “Oh, look how the cleaner brings out the grain. It just needed some tending.”

“It’s got some dings and scratches,” Xander told her.

“It’s called character. And Jenny said she could fix anything that needed fixing. I don’t want to spoil anything, Mason, but I thought if we could talk about what you did, found out, think since meeting with Chief Winston, we wouldn’t have it hanging over us at dinner.”

He gave her a long look, then nodded. “I can’t tell you much you don’t already know. All indications are Donna Lanier was abducted from the parking lot shortly before midnight on Friday. Her car was locked, hasn’t been moved since she parked it when she came on shift at four. Three other employees worked until closing. One, Maxie Upton, came out the back of the building alone a few minutes before Donna, Gina Barrows, and Brennan Forrester. Routinely Maxie parks in that same section of the lot, as most employees do, but her car was in the shop. Yours,” he said to Xander.

“Yeah, she drove in on a flat just after I closed, and had four tires as bald as my uncle Jim. I wasn’t going to let her drive around on them, made her a deal. I’d work the price of the tires down, take her to work—and she’d call her father to pick her up. She was going to walk, and after what happened to Marla, I wasn’t having her walking home or to a friend’s alone at midnight.”

“She’s lucky you provide such personal customer service.”

“I’ve known her since she was . . .” Xander straightened from his slouch against the rail. “Are you saying he was looking to take her? Was waiting for Maxie to walk to her car?”

“It’s possible. I lean toward probable. She’s younger, blonde, more like the first victim physically than Donna. I talked to her when Chief Winston did a follow-up. Her father wasn’t waiting when she came out, and she was alone out there for about twenty seconds—and now says she got nervous, thought about going back in. She thought it was because you’d spooked her about not walking, not being alone. Then her father came, and she didn’t think any more about it.”

“You said Donna came out with Gina and Brennan.”

“Just after Maxie’s father picked her up. And they walked off together—they’re in a relationship—leaving Donna locking up.”

“He took Donna because she was there?” Naomi asked.

“There’s a reason we don’t consider a serial until there are three like crimes.”

“Mason.”

“But I believe the same person took Donna. I believe he’s an opportunist—he saw an opportunity with Marla Roth, took it. He saw one with Donna, took it. At the same time he was in that lot or close by, he was most certainly lying in wait, which tells me he’d observed the routine of that restaurant, and I believe he’d probably selected his target. Circumstances caused him to miss that opportunity. He took the next.”

“Christ.” Xander turned away, stared hard out over the water.

“There’s a young woman, and her parents, who are never going to forget a set of bald tires or the man who demanded a promise. Chief Winston has already looked into like crimes, but I’m going to look again, narrowing the parameters, and adding in missings. He has deputies, and rangers, checking rental houses and cabins within a twenty-five-mile radius.”

“Because he needs a place,” Naomi stated.

Like a cellar, an old root cellar deep in the woods.

“Yeah. I’m not discounting a local, but I respect Winston’s firm opinion that this is an outsider—and the low crime rate helps support it. Still, he’ll take a harder look at individuals in the area.”

“No one believes it’s someone they know, someone they’re close to,” Naomi said. “Until it is.”

“He’s a good cop. Smart, thorough, and not so territorial he won’t take help from outside. He’s doing all he can do. For now, I can help him do more. I reached out to one of our geeks, and he’s getting names on the rentals—owners, tenants. We’ll run those in addition to the knock-on-doors. I’m sorry. I wish there were more.”

“You came.” Naomi went to him, put her arms around him, her head on his shoulder. “That’s more. You’ll stay a few days?”

“Tonight, at least. Maybe tomorrow. I want to get out of this suit. I’ve got a bag in the car, if you tell me where I’m bunking.”

“It’s not much more than bunking now. A real bed next visit, I swear. Let’s get your bag, and I’ll show you.” She glanced at Xander. “I’ll be right back, help you get the table inside.”

Alone, Xander looked out at the water, into oncoming evening. Her brother agreed to stay the night, he thought, because he expected to find a body in the morning.

—

A
fter the meal, and the fancy coffee Naomi made in her fancy machine, Xander rose. “I’m going to go on.”

“Oh.”

“You’ve got stuff. I’ve got stuff.” And with an FBI agent sleeping down the hall, she’d be safe. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay, but—”

He just pulled her to her feet, and into a hard, hot kiss. Maybe it was a little like marking his territory, with her brother right there, but he wasn’t sorry about it.

“Thanks for dinner. Later,” he said to Mason, and walked out.

“He didn’t have to leave on my account,” Mason began. “My sharp deduction skills ascertained he’s sleeping here.”

“He wanted to give us time alone, and he wants to go be with Loo. His business partner. She and Donna are close friends.” Automatically, she began clearing dishes.

“Sit down a minute. Just for a minute,” Mason said, taking her hand. “I’ve got to ask. How serious is it with you and the mechanic?”

“You say that like he doesn’t have a name.”

“I’m working on it. Give me some room. My vagabond hermit of a sister suddenly has a big house in the middle of rehab, has a dog, and is sleeping with a guy I just met. It’s a lot in a short time.”

“It doesn’t feel as short when you’re in it. I’m not going to get all”—she circled her index fingers in the air—“and say I recognized the house. But
I recognized the potential of it, and its potential for me. I didn’t know I was ready to plant until I saw it, then I was ready. The dog wasn’t going to happen, and then he did. Now I can’t imagine not having him around.”

“He’s a great dog.”

Even more, she thought, he’d become her family. “I’d have taken him to the shelter if Xander hadn’t blocked me, every time.”

“Why didn’t he take the dog?”

“He just lost his.”

“Ah.” Mason nodded, understanding completely. “You haven’t answered the actual question. We call that deflection.”

“I’m not deflecting, I’m working up to it. It’s more serious than I planned. More serious than I thought I’d want, and more serious than I’m sure I can handle. But he’s . . .”

She wasn’t sure she could explain it, to him or to herself.

“He makes me feel more than I thought I ever could or would. He figured out who I was. He had Simon Vance’s book on his wall of books—you have to see that wall of books. I have pictures.”

“Check out my shocked face,” Mason said, and made her laugh.

“Anyway. Apparently I didn’t hide my reaction to seeing Vance’s book as well as I thought, and Xander figured it out. But, Mason, he didn’t say anything to me, or change toward me. He didn’t tell anyone, even his closest friend. Do you know what that means to me?”

“Yeah.” Now Mason covered her hand with his. “And it goes a long way for me deciding he has a name. I liked him, and I know that matters to you. And I’m going to be up-front because you matter and tell you I ran him.”

“Oh, for God’s sake.”

“You’re my sister, you’re my family. And we share something most don’t, most can’t understand, and shouldn’t. I had to do it, Naomi. A couple of bumps in his late teens, early twenties, if you care.”

“Which I don’t.”

He rolled over that. “Disturbing the peace, destruction of property—bar fight that reads like he didn’t start it, but sure as hell finished it. No
time—plenty of speeding tickets up until he hit about twenty-five. And that’s it. I’m going to add I feel better knowing he had a couple of bumps, got them out of his system. I like knowing he can finish a fight. No marriages or divorces, no children on record. He’s sole owner of the garage, half owner of the bar, and half owner of the building that holds the bar and an apartment. Winston thinks highly of him.”

“Are you done now?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Now we’re going to get these dishes done, FaceTime the uncles, then you get the grand tour.”

“Okay. I’ve got one more thing, but I’m really done. Does he make you happy?”

“He does, and that was a shock to the system. And he makes me, or helps me, think beyond the moment. I’d gotten too much in the habit of only right now. I like thinking about tomorrow.”

“Then I may start calling him Xander. But what kind of name is that anyway?”

“Really, Mason Jar?”

“Shut up,” he said, and pushed away from the table to help her clear.

—

H
e waited until just after two in the morning to drive the quiet roads to the woods near the bluff. He parked on the shoulder.

Maybe they had patrols out at this hour, looking for the likes of him. But in his considerable experience it was far too early in the game for it, considering the two-bit town and half-ass police force.

And this wouldn’t take long.

He had her wrapped in a standard sheet of plastic. Trial and error had proven this method worked best. He had to put some muscle into hauling her out and up over his shoulder—fireman’s carry. He took some pride in being stronger than he looked, but she was a heftier package than he preferred.

All in all she’d been a disappointment. No fight or sass in her, not
after the first couple hours anyway. It just cut into his fun when they didn’t try to scream or beg, when they stopped fighting, and she’d gone downhill so fast he’d nearly killed her out of sheer boredom.

Too much like that scrawny old bitch he’d grabbed up in godforsaken Kansas when he couldn’t get the one he’d had his eye on.

Or that fat-ass in Louisville. Or—

No point in dwelling on past mistakes, he assured himself as he shifted the dead weight on his shoulder and used the hunter’s light on his hat to light the track.

He just had to stop repeating them, remember patience was a virtue.

He’d already scoped his ground, using Naomi’s website pictures as a guide, and gratefully dropped Donna’s body between the track and a nurse log. With practiced moves, he rolled it out of the plastic, studied it while he folded the sheet to take with him.

Waste not, want not.

He took out his phone, switched to camera mode, and took his last souvenir pictures of Donna Lanier.

Then he walked away without giving the woman he’d killed another thought. She was the past, and he had his path set for the future.

He cruised the road just far enough to bring the house on the bluff, its spreading silhouette against a starstruck sky, into view.

Sleep well, Naomi,
he thought.
Rest up. I’ll be seeing you soon, and we’re going to have some fun.

A
young couple from Spokane, with a baby in a backpack, found the body on a nature hike on Monday’s sparkling afternoon.

Within minutes, Sam Winston stood over the body of a woman he’d known for three decades, and had liked every day of them.

Minutes later, Mason made his way through the woods to join him.

“I had to hope it wouldn’t end this way.”

“I’m sorry, very sorry, for your loss, Chief.”

“She’s everyone’s loss. Well.” Determined to do his best for her, Sam rubbed his hands over his face, shook it off. “Bound and gagged, naked, like Marla. Wounds are worse—he cut and beat her more severely.”

“He may be escalating. Or . . . it may be frustration that she wasn’t his first choice.”

“He brushed out any footprints—you can see how he stirred up the dirt, the layer of pine needles. So he’s careful. He had to carry her to this spot, most likely from the road—down the track. She’s easily one-fifty, so he’s got some muscle.”

Careful to touch nothing, disturb nothing, Mason crouched down, studied the wounds, the position of the body.

“She’s not posed, no attempt to cover or bury her. No remorse, nothing symbolic. He was simply finished, and dumped the body here, walked away.”

“She didn’t mean anything to him.”

“No. The first victim, she was laid out differently—the way her arms reached out. And he left her shoes. She was more important—may be a surrogate. Younger, blonde, attractive, slim.”

“Like Maxie would’ve been.”

“Yes. We’re not that far from my sister’s house. Is this trail popular?”

“It gets some use, yeah. A little farther west, toward the park, into the park, you get more hikers, but this area gets visitors pretty regularly. He wanted her found, and directly.”

“I agree. Do you mind if I take some pictures?”

“Go ahead. We’ll be taking our own—I wanted a minute with her first.”

And, Sam could admit to himself, had to resist the gnawing urge to cover her. Once again, he shook it off.

“My deputy back on the road, you probably saw him, is getting the statements from the couple who found her. They’ve got a three-month-old baby with them. Their first vacation as a family.” Sam sighed out air. “They won’t forget it.”

He looked into the woods, into the green deepening as spring slid toward summer. “We’ll get this taped off, do what we do, and do what we can. And once we do that here, I’ll go see her sister, her daughter.”

“Do you want me to go with you for the notifications?”

“I appreciate the offer, but they know me. It’ll be a little easier, as much as it can be, from somebody they know.”

—

N
aomi understood a process came with death, and with murder that process became official. But she wouldn’t let Xander hear about his friend through a process.

She didn’t see him through the main opening of the garage, so she walked inside the noise, saw one of his crew plugging coins in the soda machine.

“Is Xander around?”

“Yeah, sure. Back in the machine shop—straight back, to the right. Can’t miss.”

“Thanks.”

She picked her way through, found she couldn’t miss.

He sat on a stool behind an engine on a stand, a wrench in his grease-smeared hands.

“Bearings shot to shit, crankshaft shot to shit.”

He took off another part, scowled at it, tossed it into a plastic tray with a dismissing thump. “Wonders why it’s got rod knock.”

“Xander.”

She spoke quietly, but he heard her voice over the clanging, the thumping, the music. And the instant he saw her face, grief clouded his eyes.

“Ah, hell.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

She started toward him, hands out, but he shoved back on the stool and held his own up. “Don’t. I’ve got grease all over me.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does.” With sharp, angry moves, he snatched up a rag, rubbed it over his forearms, his hands. Tossed it down again, walked to a small, wall-hung sink that had seen its share of action.

With his back to her, he poured some sort of powder on his hands, dry-scrubbed them with a brush. “Where did they find her?”

“I’m not sure, I’m sorry. I just know the chief called Mason about a half hour ago and said they had. In a wooded area, was all he’d say. He was in a hurry to get there. I didn’t want you to hear—just hear.”

He nodded, kept scrubbing. “I knew it last night. If they hadn’t found her by last night . . . but until they do, you have to figure there’s a chance.”

He worked the powder up to his forearms, then turned on the water. “I need to tell Loo.”

Not the process, not procedure. And the hell with that. “Do you want me to go with you?”

“Not this time.”

He yanked paper towels out of a wall unit, dried off, tossed them in a big, widemouthed trash can.

“They have to notify her next of kin. I don’t know how long before they can.”

“Loo won’t want to talk to anybody. She won’t get in the way of that.”

“I’m so sorry, Xander. I wish there were something I could do.”

“You did it. You came to tell me.”

When she stepped toward him again, he looked at his hands.

“They’re clean enough,” she said, and moved into him.

“I guess they’ll do.” He got a grip on her, a tight one, held her in silence while the workday banged around them.

“Stay with Loo as long as you need, as long as she needs. But would you let me know if you’re staying in town?”

“I’ll be coming out, but I don’t know when. If Kevin and the crew leave before I get there, before your brother gets back, stay home.” He drew her away. “Stay inside, and lock everything. Tell me you’ll do that.”

“I will. Don’t worry about me, just take care of Loo.”

“I’ll do that. I have to deal with some things here, get some coverage, then I’ll do that.”

When she got home she closed herself in her temporary office so she didn’t have to talk to Kevin or any of the crew, so they couldn’t sense what she knew.

Time dragged while she tried to lose herself in work. Feeling closed in, restless, she gave it up and took the dog out in the narrow backyard, thrilled him with a session of fetch the ball.

She saw Kevin start down the deck steps, and the expression on his face told her the news had gotten out.

“Xander called me. Ah, he said he’d be here within the hour, and look, Naomi, I’m staying until he gets here, or your brother does. I’ll sit out in the damn truck if you—”

She went with instinct, stepped up to hug him.

“What the hell’s happening? Jenny’s got a couple of neighbors and their kids over at the house so I don’t have to worry about her being alone.
We’ve never had to worry. Donna—God, Donna, of all people. I can’t get ahold of it.”

“I know. I know.”

“He said Loo’s pretty steady now, and she’s going over to Donna’s house. Her—Donna’s—sister and daughter, and the family, I guess, are there. He had to make her swear she’d get the sister’s husband to take her home, make sure she’s inside and locked up. We never had to think about doing that. It’s always been safe here. My kids can go all over the neighborhood and you never worry.”

“I’ll go inside.” She stepped back. “I’ll go inside, lock the doors. You need to go home, you need to be with your family.”

His face went hard. “I’m staying. Until Xander gets here, I’m staying. Jenny’s with a dozen people.”

“Then let’s go up, sit down.”

“He said it was like Marla.” Now that hardness faded into grief. “Word’s going around.” With the dog between them, they started back to the house. “On a Friday night, too, the same as Marla. He dumped her over there.”

“Over . . .” She shuddered when he gestured toward the forest she thought of as her own.

“Just west of the bluff. You can’t go walking there on your own anymore, Naomi.” A friend, a brother, he grabbed her hand. “You can’t do that. Not until they find him.”

“I won’t, don’t worry. Sit down.”

In her forest, she thought. At the foot of her bluff, and in her forest.

Because it was remote, she told herself. Because he could slip through the dark with no one to see. That was all it was, and what it was, was bad enough.

She sat in the chair beside him.

“Your studio’s nearly finished,” he told her, and threw her off balance. “After tomorrow, day after latest, you can set it up.”

They’d talk of something else, she realized, of anything else but the unthinkable.

“Can’t wait.”

“We’ll get the desk, the equipment in there for you. A couple more weeks, we’re going to be out of here. Well, three. We should be out in three.”

“You’ve brought the house back to life, Kevin.”

“We have,” he said just before the dog leaped up and raced off the deck.

“Xander,” Naomi told him. “He just knows—the way the bike sounds, I guess. He doesn’t bark anymore when it’s Xander.”

“He’s nuts about you, you know—Xander. So’s the dog, but I’m talking about Xander, who’d kick my ass for saying it, but I need something good to balance things out. I’ve never seen him nuts about anybody.”

“Nobody?”

Shaking his head, Kevin smiled a little. “You’re the first.”

She got up and went to meet Xander as he came up the steps with the dog.

“Thanks.”

“How’s Loo?” she asked.

“She took it hard. Really hard.” Looking exhausted, he blew out a breath. “But she pulled it together, talked to Donna’s daughter. She’s over there now. Did you hear from your brother?”

“No, and I’ve had to stop myself from texting him a dozen times. He’ll tell us what he can when he can.”

“Would you let me know if there’s anything?” Kevin pushed to his feet. “It feels like if you just knew
something
it would start to make sense. I’m going to go on, get home. Keep this one close, Xan.”

“I intend to. Same for Jenny.”

He sat when Kevin left. “Her daughter—you don’t know her—she’s inconsolable. I wasn’t doing any good over there, so I got out of the way. She and Loo are better off huddling up together.”

“Kevin said she was found in the forest—over there.”

Eyes hard, Xander nodded. “Somewhere in that area—and too damn close to here. Like Marla.”

“Likely for the same reason. It’s out of town, hardly any houses, hardly any traffic on the road, or the water depending on how he comes in.”

“That’s probably what it is, all it is. But if what Mason said has weight,
and if Maxie was the actual target, he has a type. Right? Young, blonde, attractive, slender. You’re all of that.”

“And I can promise you I know better than any young blonde woman in this town how to take care of myself. I can promise you, Xander, not to take unnecessary chances, and to take sensible precautions. I’ll also point out that both women he killed lived or worked in town. I think he must stalk them, or at least watch their routines. I don’t have a routine—and you have enough on your mind without worrying about me.”

“Nothing that’s on my mind is more important than you.”

He turned to her, took her breath away with one long, steady stare.

And once again, the dog raced off the deck, this time leading with a bark.

“It’s probably Mason.” She laid a hand on Xander’s tensed arm. “This son of a bitch comes at women in the dark, and I’ll bet from behind like a coward. He doesn’t walk up to them in the daylight.”

“You’re right. I’m edgy.”

He relaxed a little when Mason rounded the house with Tag.

“I have to make a couple calls. I’ll be down when I’m done and tell you what I can. Xander, I’m sorry about your friend.”

“Yeah, we all are.”

“I’m going to see what I have to throw together for dinner,” she told Xander.

“I can call in for pizza or whatever. You don’t have to cook.”

“I’m edgy, too. Cooking helps.”

“Have you thought about getting a grill? I can grill—you know, steaks, chops, even fish.” He shrugged when she stopped at the opening. “Give you a hand with meals sometime.”

“As a matter of fact, I’ve been looking at grills online.”

“You can’t buy a grill online.” Sincerely appalled, he stared at her—with some pity. “You have to see it, and—”

“Stroke it?” She offered a bright smile. “Speak to it?”

Appalled pity turned on a dime to a cool disdain that made her want to laugh. “You have to see it,” he repeated.

She made a humming sound, then went in to check her supplies and formulate a menu.

Moments later, he came in, grabbed a beer, sat at the counter. “I’m buying the grill.”

“What?”

“I said I’m buying the grill.”

Sauté some chicken breasts, she thought. Garlic, herbs, wine. Distracted, she turned to him. “The grill? Seriously, Xander.”

“Grills are serious.”

Now she did laugh. “I’d be the last one to say any cooking appliance or tool isn’t serious, which is why I’ve been researching and eliminating and considering online.”

“Have you ever bought a grill before?”

“No, but—”

“I’ll take care of it.”

It occurred to her he was thinking, and feeling, something other than grief. So she stretched it out. “You don’t know the features I want, the brand, the size. We’re having chicken, rice, mixed vegetables,” she decided.

“You don’t buy a grill online any more than you buy a car online.”

Because she felt better herself, she took another poke. “Have you ever bought a grill?”

“Kevin has, twice, and I was with him both times. It’s the same thing.”

She began to assemble her ingredients. “Well, there’s plenty of time to decide before summer.”

“There’s your first wrong turn—well, second since the whole online deal. You get the right grill, you use it year-round, especially when you can put it right outside the kitchen like you can here.”

She got a pot for the rice, put it on the stove, then came to the counter so she could face him while she minced garlic. “I had no idea you were so serious about outdoor grills. The things you learn.”

“I’m buying the grill.”

They’d see about that.

“Do you know how to peel carrots?”

Frowning, he took a slow sip of beer. “Probably.”

She pulled carrots out of the fridge, got a peeler, pushed them to his side of the counter. “Good, peel these.”