The Seventh Victim (18 page)

“And that explains why you take pictures of so many crime scenes.”

Lara set her glass down. “I told Vera because I know she’ll write about it, and I’m tired of hiding.”

Cassidy raised a brow. “Oh, she will. It will be an eye-catcher for her readers when it runs in Sunday’s paper. That kind of news could take the exhibit national.”

“That wasn’t my intent.”

Cassidy tugged off a clip-on earring and rubbed her earlobe. “Then why talk to Vera?”

“I’ve been hiding for seven years. And I’m tired of it. I want my life back.”

Cassidy nodded with approval. “Well, after that article hits you will have a different and, I hope, a very lucrative, life.” She took one last sip and set her glass down. “You want to stay the night here?”

“No, no, I’m fine. But do you need help cleaning up?”

Cassidy laughed. “Lara, you must be more of a diva. Artists do not clean up.”

A chuckle rumbled in her throat. “I’ll remember that when I’m walking Lincoln and bagging his business.”

“No, I do not need help. I was offering a bed so you don’t have the long drive home.”

“I can’t leave Lincoln.”

“The wolf will survive a night.”

“Likely. But I’d worry. I better get home.”

“If you must.”

Cassidy hugged Lara. “I’m proud of you. Tonight was a big step for you.”

An understatement. Lara thanked Cassidy again and then headed outside. The night air was cool and crisp and a welcome break from the day’s heat and the gallery crowds. Her heels clicked on the sidewalk as she crossed the street to the parking lot where her truck remained. She dug her keys out of her purse and shoved the key in the lock.

“You had an impressive crowd there tonight.” Beck’s rough voice startled her.

She turned, surprised to see him stepping out of the shadows. “What are you doing here?”

“Working late at the office. Thought I’d swing back by and see how the show was going.”

“It’s over.”

“I can see that.” He moved closer, his steps purposeful. “You should have had your keys in your hand when you came out of the gallery.”

“The street is well lit, and this is a good part of town.” A wry smile lifted the edge of his mouth. “You, more than anyone, should know that the safe part of town is never really safe.”

She bristled, annoyed because he was right. “Is this some kind of safety lecture?”

His white hat shadowed his face, making it hard for her to read his expression. “Friendly advice.”

“Duly noted. Is that all?”

“See anyone in there tonight that might have set off alarm bells. Not so much in your memory but your gut.”

Fear slithered down her spine as she imagined the Strangler close and watching. “No. Why?”

“Bit of a coming-out party for you tonight. If I were the Strangler and I were back in Austin, I’d have made a point to be at that opening.”

Beck’s observations ratcheted up her worries about Vera’s coming article. “Someone like that would stick out in the crowd.”

“Don’t you believe it for one minute, Ms. Church. Those kinds of killers can blend in real well. Can be as charming as the best. Fact is, their charm can be as smooth as a magician’s sleight of hand.”

“I don’t understand.”

“When a magician wants you to look away from his hand while he makes a switch, he’ll move his other hand to distract your attention. A killer is all nice and charming, and that’s all you see until he attacks.”

Had her attacker been a charming guy who’d simply fooled her before he’d placed the rag over her face? “Sergeant, I have the chance to really rebuild my life and start fresh. Stop digging up all the dark and scary.”

“I didn’t go looking for the dark and scary. It found me and now you.” Menace lurked behind the words.

Her heartbeat quickened despite her mind’s demand for calm. “I am tired of living in fear. I won’t live in fear.”

“I don’t expect you to live in fear,” he said clearly. “I want you to remember, so we can put this guy away forever.”

“I have no memories to give.” The words sounded defeated even to her ears. “And you might as well hear this from me. I told Vera about my past.”

The subtle tightening of his jaw coupled with a slowly drawn-in breath had her anticipating a sharp response. “You told her about Seattle?”

“Yes.”

Beck stood silent as he stared at her.

“I’m tired of being afraid. If he knows I’m in Austin there’s no point in hiding.”

His eyes narrowed.

“Your timing is fortunate. You and your show will get a lot of publicity.”

Frustration had her taking a step back. “That’s not why I did it.”

“That so?”

Her fingers clenched into fists. “That is so.”

He took one step, reclaiming the distance she’d tried to put between them and more. “You shouldn’t be talking to reporters but to a psychologist.”

“I don’t want any more shrinks poking in my head.”

“Talk to my gal once. If it doesn’t work, I’ll back off.”

That made her smile. “You would really back off completely if the doc and I came up empty-handed? Really?”

He frowned.

She shook her head. “Don’t kid yourself, and don’t kid me. Once would not be enough. You’ll hound me until this case is closed.”

He didn’t address her statement. “An article like that is going to bring a lot of nuts out of the woodwork.”

In the rush of emotions, she hadn’t thought beyond the telling. “There’s only one nut I fear right now.”

Beck rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m going to have DPS step up patrols near your house.”

“I don’t regret what I said.” A half-truth.

He shook his head. “Not going to get into it with you tonight.”

“But tomorrow.”

A smile tugged at the edge of his lips. “Like you said, I don’t give up easy.”

Stunned by his clear-cut honesty, she got into her car and started the engine. He waited, watching as she backed out of her space and drove down the block. At the stop sign she paused and glanced in her rearview mirror to find Beck watching her.

Her life wasn’t going to come close to normal until Sergeant Beck had his killer.

Blair Silver was irritated.

She lit up a cigarette and slid into the front seat of her Bronco just before midnight. She was bone tired, and she’d spent the better part of her Friday night studying. With exams just over a week away, she had been studying nonstop for three days so she could pass her econ exam. Her grade hovered between a C and a D, and she needed a C to graduate and leave Austin.

On top of school pressures, her mom had called three times today, nagging her about her AA meetings. Blair had been polite the first time her mother had called, promising that she’d attend and that, yes, she was still clean and sober. Four hundred and ninety days sober. She’d told her mother to stop worrying. But her mother had called a second time while Blair had been in the middle of a class. Her phone had vibrated loudly and caught the attention of the teacher. A call back to her mom had been a replay of the earlier conversation.

Are you going to AA? Are you all right?

Yes.

Are you sure?

Shit.

She loved her mother, was trying to be patient, but the woman was smothering her.

Smoke swirled around her head as she pulled in a long drag, held the smoke in her lungs for a moment, and then slowly released it. “I am going to pass econ and Mom is going to chill. I can do this. I can do this.”

It had been a long road for Blair the last couple of years. And she could acknowledge that she’d created her own problems. No one had forced her to start drinking or using. Her shitty choices had not only jeopardized school, but they’d nearly killed her.

Her hands trembled as she dug a slender hand through her blond hair.
Don’t go there. You screwed up, but you’ve fixed it. Life is better. Even Mom is more chill than she was six months ago.

She started the engine and prepared to back out of her space when there was a knock on her driver’s-side window. She jumped. “Shit!”

Her heart racing, she turned to see a guy standing there smiling in an embarrassed sort of way. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry,” he said loud enough to penetrate the glass. “I was hoping you had a cell phone I could use. My battery is dead, and so is my car engine. I just need to call my wife so she can come and get me.”

Blair glanced at his left hand holding the cell and noted the wedding ring. He had an easy smile, looked nice enough, and she could have sworn she’d seen him on campus. “Sure, why not?”

Holding her cigarette between her teeth, she fished her phone off the bottom of her purse and then lowered her window halfway and handed it to him. “Here ya go.”

“I won’t be more than a couple of seconds. And the call is local.”

“Sure, whatever.” She drew on her cigarette and watched as he dialed, waited as the phone rang.

“Hey, baby, it’s me,” he said, turning away. “The car is doing that thing again. It won’t start.” He nodded, listened. “Yeah, I’m near the econ building, but just pick me up at the River Diner.” He grinned. “Thanks, baby.” He ended the call. “Hey, thanks a lot. You saved me from a long walk.”

She accepted the phone. “Sure. No worries. So your wife is on her way?”

“Yeah. It’ll take her about an hour, so I’m going to hoof it over to the café. Hey, thanks again. I’m Bill, by the way.”

“Blair.”

“Aren’t you in Roger’s econ class?”

“Yeah.”

“He can be tough. How’s it going?”

She smiled. “He’s killing me.”

“He’s littered the halls of the econ building with lots of failed students.”

She stubbed her cigarette in the ashtray. “Grr. Don’t say that. I need to pass so I can graduate.”

“You look like a smart cookie.”

“Let’s hope.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Well, take care, Blair, and I’ll be pulling for you and a passing grade.”

“Thanks, Bill.”

She put the car in reverse and started to back up as he walked across the parking lot. A part of her wanted to give the guy a lift and another chided her for being reckless. Yeah, she’d seen him around campus, but that didn’t mean much. He could be trouble.

But he’d been nice. He’d called his wife baby. And he wasn’t asking for favors. If he’d wanted to cause trouble he’d have stirred it up by now.

She pulled up beside him and rolled down the passenger window. “Hey, isn’t the River Diner about a mile or two from here?”

He slowed his pace. “Thereabouts.”

“That’s a long walk.”

“Good for me. Builds character.”

She stopped. “Hop in. I’ll give you a lift.”

He shook his head. “That’s nice, but you don’t have to.”

Okay, he had to be a nice guy. He didn’t pounce on her offer like a crazed guy would. “No, really. I’m going that way, and it’ll save you a few steps.”

He cocked his head. “Sure?”

“Yes.” She unlocked the automatic door locks.

He opened the door and slid into the seat. Inside the car he appeared much bigger. His smile didn’t fade, but this close he had an odd vibe. One mile or two, and he’d be out of her life for good. “The River Diner, next stop.”

Bill grinned the devil’s grin, and before she could blink he pulled a long butcher knife from his pocket and poked it in her side hard enough to make her flinch. “I have a better idea.”

“What the hell,” she said.

He poked the knife tip harder into her side. “I’ve been watching you.” He inhaled the remains of her cigarette smoke. “Light me up one.”

When she didn’t move, the knife tip cut through her blouse and into her side. Tears of fear burned her eyes as she frantically dug the cigarettes out of her bag, lit one, and handed it to him.

He inhaled deeply. “Start driving.”

“Where?”

“A place where we won’t be disturbed or rushed.”

Five hours later Blair huddled naked in the corner of the dank, dark room and stared at the man who’d held and brutalized her for hours. When he’d first brought her here, she’d feared he’d rape her. And then after she’d lain under him, she’d sensed deep in her bones that she’d never leave this room alive.

He held up a simple white dress trimmed with a hint of lace at the cuffs and collar. “I want you to put this on.”

She pushed back a lock of hair, wincing when she touched the bruise on her cheekbone. Though craving the protection of clothing, she understood his offer had nothing to do with kindness. Mustering strength and defiance, she lifted her chin a fraction. “Why?”

A smile twitched the edge of his mouth. “I can make you hurt more.”

Blair’s chin dipped and quivered. The things he’d done to her. She’d not known pain could be so intense.

“You don’t want me to make you hurt more, do you?”

“No.”

He held out the dress.

She accepted it. Without rising, she lifted the garment over her head and slid it on. Oddly, it felt soft and warm against her skin. Carefully, she tugged the hem over her naked legs, craving coverage. “I won’t tell. I won’t.”

He nodded. “I know you won’t tell, Blair. I know.”

Fresh tears filled her eyes. “Then you’ll let me go?”