When a Heart Stops (13 page)

Hanging up, she continued to pace, her thoughts whirling. Back and forth, back and forth.

At the next turn near the window, a masked face popped up. Serena screamed and stumbled back.

Dominic hung up the phone and dropped his head into his hands. Hunter was concerned about Chad and rightly so.
God, help Chad.
He's come a long way in a short time. Don't let him fall back on alcohol to numb the pain. Show me what to do to help him.

Hunter had talked with Dominic about Chad drinking himself into a mind-numbing stupor. Not because he wanted to make Chad look bad, but because he needed an extra pair of eyes on the man in case this car wreck involving his ex-wife and daughter sent him over the edge.

Dominic wasn't sure what else he could do except let Chad know he was there if he needed him. And he could pray.

The buzzing of his phone reminded him someone had beeped in while he was midconversation with Hunter.

Amen.

He entered the code to get his voice mail as he stood at the kitchen counter and sorted the day's mail. File folders awaited him in his den area, but he wanted to take a moment to unwind before he worked several more hours.

Dominic paused when Serena's voice filled his ear. He straightened as he listened, his full attention now on her message. When it finished, he hung up, then dialed her number.

She answered on the first ring, her voice breathless. Scared. “Someone's outside my house.”

He grabbed his keys from the counter and headed for his car. “Where? What'd you see?”

“A face in the kitchen window. He has on a mask.” He could hear the strain, the toll it was taking on her not to give in to the panic. He slid into the car, cranked it, and backed out of his drive.

“Did you call 9-1-1?”

A left turn and he was out of his subdivision, heading toward Serena's.

“Yes, I have them on the other line. My landline.”

“I can be there in five minutes.” Fortunately, he didn't live far.

No answer. He tensed as he made a right turn.

“Serena?”

“I'm here, I was just checking the locks again.”

“Do you see anything else? Hear anything?”

“No, but the cops are here.” Her relief echoed through the line.

“I'm almost there.”

“I've got to go let them in. I'm fine now.”

But I'm not,
he wanted to say.
Stay on the line with me until I get there.
But he didn't. “Okay, I'll be another couple of minutes.”

A small pause filled the line, then she said, “Thanks, Dominic.”

A thought occurred to him. “Are you holding a gun? The one you shot your intruder with?”

“Yes.”

“Go put it up before you answer the door, okay? Don't answer the door holding a weapon. Cops don't like that, all right?”

“Right. I knew that. The dispatcher said the same thing, but I wasn't ready to let go of it yet. I'll do that now.” He heard her footsteps tap across what he assumed were hardwood floors. Then she came back on the line. “All put away.”

“Good. Now hang up and talk to the officers. I'm thirty seconds away.”

“See you in a few.”

She hung up and Dominic turned into her subdivision, taking in the substantial homes and manicured lawns. He made his way to 104 Bennett Drive and pulled behind a cruiser. Making sure his badge was visible, he climbed out of his car and walked toward the front door.

If the cops did their job right, one officer would be inside, the other sweeping the perimeter of the house for the reported intruder.

Dominic knocked on the door and the officer inside opened it. With a glance at Dominic's badge, his brows raised. “FBI?”

“He's a friend,” he heard Serena say as she stepped into the foyer.

The officer whose name tag read “Trask” stepped back and let him in.

Serena looked pale, drawn, and stressed. He walked up to her
and pulled her into his arms. She melted against him and let him offer comfort in the only way he could right now. Then she gathered herself together and pulled back.

He glanced at Officer Trask. “What happened?”

“She was just getting ready to get into that.”

Serena lifted her chin and motioned toward the den. “Let's go sit down, please.”

Dominic and Officer Trask followed her into the tastefully decorated area. He took in the leather couch and matching love seat and recliner. The dog bed in front of the fireplace and the mantel full of photographs.

Homey. Comfortable. Welcoming. A pang hit him. Not for the first time, he wondered why he couldn't have grown up in a house like this with parents who loved him and—

Shutting that line of thought off, he sat beside Serena on the couch. On the coffee table, he noticed the open high school album.

She took a deep breath and said, “I was in the kitchen, and when I looked at the window, this face with a mask popped up.” She shuddered. “Scared me to death.”

The door opened and closed. The other officer entered the room. Tall with dark skin and hard eyes, he looked like he'd seen a few years with the force. His name tag read “Taylor.” Dominic introduced himself and asked, “Find anything?”

“Footprints under the kitchen window. The ground is soft from the rain and it's obvious someone was out there. But he's gone now.”

“Can you get a cast of one of the prints?”

“There wasn't a real clear one.” Officer Taylor shrugged. “Probably someone looking to see if anyone was home before he broke in to rob the place.”

Serena looked at him, her protest almost visible on her lips. Dominic gave a slight shake of his head and said, “It's possible Serena has a stalker. Do you think you guys could ride by a little more often tonight?”

The officers exchanged a glance. “Sure, we can do that, but it might be better if she finds another place to sleep tonight.”

“No.” Serena's voice was low and tight. She looked at the men in her den. “I'm not going anywhere. I may not sleep as well, but he's not chasing me out of my home.”

“Serena—” Dominic started to protest and she cut him off with a shake of her head.

“I'm not doing it.”

And the stubborn set of her chin said she wasn't. “What if you have someone come stay with you?”

Serena pinched the bridge of her nose, then rubbed her eyes. “Maybe.”

“What about Alexia? Just for the night?”

“I suppose that would be all right.” A ghost of a small smile appeared on her lips. “Actually, that would be nice. I'll call her in a minute.” She bit her lip.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“I work with Adopt-a-Sis, and I had a rather scary confrontation with a girl's father tonight.”

He frowned. “What? When?”

Officer Trask leaned in, his attention fully on Serena.

“Right before the person with the mask appeared in my window.” She told them the rest of the story.

“You think it was him?” the officer asked.

She shrugged. “I have no way of knowing. I wouldn't think so, though. He strikes me as the type of man who wouldn't bother with a mask.”

“We'll check it out,” Officer Trask said. “You have his name and address?”

Serena gave it to him, glad someone would be going to Camille's house, but . . . “Can you be real subtle? I don't want him to think I sent you out there because of him coming to my house. I'm afraid he might take it out on Camille.”

“Sure. I know this address. We get called out to that neighborhood on a regular basis. A cop car riding by won't set off any alarms.”

“Okay, thanks.” She looked at Dominic. “I want to show you something.”

Dominic saw the officers to the door, then walked back into the den to see Serena holding her yearbook. “Look.” She held it out to him and pointed to a picture. “Do you recognize her?”

His heart thumped as he snatched the book for a closer look. “The woman in my shed.”

“Yeah. She was in my graduating class.”

His eyes locked on hers. “That's what you said in your message.”

“We have to find them—each and every one—and warn them. And not just the women, the men too. Because while he's only killed women, it doesn't mean he won't branch out and start killing males.”

“We just need to contact the local ones,” Dominic said, his mind already on the almost impossible task. “I'll give this to the task force. We'll pull in a few more people who can do this grunt work. We'll also run a segment on the news, warning the class of 2002 to be on guard.”

“But won't that warn the killer that you've picked up on at least part of his MO?”

“Yes, but I don't think he cares about that. He had to know we'd figure that part out pretty easily.”

“I know a few people still living in town that I can contact. We need to warn Alexia and Christine and . . .” Her hands twisted together and he covered them with his own.

“You did great, Serena. You caught this much earlier than I would have. Call Alexia and let me worry about this.”

She nodded, squeezed his hands, then picked up the phone.

And Dominic prepared himself for a sleepless night. Serena didn't have to know it, but he'd be parked outside on the curb,
watching—and getting permission to take this case a step further with the media.

The handcuffs snapped into place. Kelsey stirred and murmured, eyelids fluttering. The killer already had the other girl situated at the table opposite Kelsey.

“What . . . ?”

“Wake up, Kelsey, it's time for the fun to begin.”

Kelsey blinked, and the killer watched the girl try to focus.

The killer looked at the one seated across from Kelsey and saw the confusion written in her eyes. Soon that confusion would clear. She would be a good player. She had put up a good fight when she had realized what was happening, the fury in her eyes sparking the killer's interest, spiking the anticipation for a good round of play.

THURSDAY, 7:48 A.M.

Frank Hoffman sat at his desk, staring out the window. The tension was getting to him. He'd lost weight and the bags under his eyes attested to his lack of sleep. Even Elizabeth had said something to him this morning about his haggard appearance.

Thankfully, she hadn't brought up his blunder at the last debate again. His campaign manager, Elliott Darwin, had managed to smooth things over, but warned Frank to keep his head on straight and his mind in the game. Frank promised he would.

His phone rang and he ignored it, his mind spinning with ideas, plans to find Jillian without jeopardizing his political career.

He shuddered to think the outcome lay in the hands of someone else. But his contact had promised to take care of it. Only the fact that his contact had as much to lose as Frank kept him from taking over and expanding his options.

But he couldn't.

He had to keep his hands clean.

He couldn't do anything that would lead back to him.

Something he'd managed to do until Jillian had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He still found the whole thing
surreal. One moment out of thirty years in politics could ruin his entire future.

Frank picked up the phone and pressed speed dial for the one who was supposed to be taking care of this problem.

He answered on the third ring. “Hello?”

“I think we need to change our strategy.”

A pause. “Really? How so?”

“I think we just need to get rid of her.”

“What about the package?”

“In the chaos of her death, we'll plant someone at the house who can look for it.” The more Frank thought about it, the more he thought that was the thing to do.

“Assuming she hasn't told anyone about it.”

Frank considered that. “I don't think she has. If she was going to say something, I have a feeling there would have been cops on my doorstep by now. But I can't take a chance or count on her being quiet forever. She may be weighing her options.”

“Or keeping quiet to protect her friend.”

“Or that.”
Or figuring out if she wants to blackmail me.
Frank saw his secretary pass by his office and waited until he was sure she was out of earshot. Rising, he walked over and shut the door. Phone still to his ear, he said, “But we need to act fast and it needs to look like an accident.”

“I already have a plan in motion. If you can be patient a few more days, she'll be dead and no one will think anything more of her death other than she was just another tragic victim.”

“Victim? Of what? And how can you be sure?”

The voice on the other end hardened. “I'm sure. Let me take care of it.”

Frank rubbed his eyes. “All right. A couple more days. But either find the package or take her out. Or both. Both would be best.”

“You hired me to take care of this. Stop thinking and let me do it. You focus on the election. I've got your back.”

“Right. You've got my back.” He just hoped one day there wasn't a knife sticking out of it.

Serena smelled coffee. Her stomach rumbled and she looked at the clock on her end table.

A gasp escaped her and she threw the covers off. She needed to be at work by 9:00 for a meeting and it was already ten after eight. She gave a quick glance at her phone and found a text from Dominic. ALL QUIET LAST NIGHT. HAVE CRUISERS DOING DRIVE-BYS. CALL IF YOU NEED ME. WILL SEE YOU SOON.

She frowned. How did he know it was quiet last night?

He'd stayed, watching the house.

Warmth invaded her heart and she felt herself staring into space thinking about the man. His goodness, his protective instincts, what it was like to kiss him . . .

Her eyes strayed back to the clock and she jerked, muttering, “Quit mooning over the man and get moving.”

After a record-breaking quick shower, she dressed and walked into the kitchen to find Alexia sitting at the table, sipping a cup of coffee and watching the morning news on the 17" flat screen television Serena had recently mounted in the corner.

“Morning.”

Alexia's green eyes slid from the screen and she smiled over her cup. “Good morning.”

“How long have you been up?” Serena asked as she moved toward the carafe.

“Just a few minutes. We stayed up way too late last night talking.”

A grin curved Serena's lips. “Tell me about it. But I have to admit, I'm glad. I needed the girl time.”

Alexia's red curls bounced on her shoulders as she nodded her agreement. “I'm sorry it took you getting scared to death to get me over here.”

Sadness took over. “I know. I'm sorry. It seems like we're all so busy, there's never any time for fun and relaxation anymore.”

“Especially with a serial killer stalking the streets.”

“Stalking our classmates,” Serena murmured.

“Are you sure it's not just some crazy coincidence?”

“No, I'm not sure at all, but I'd rather play it safe by warning as many people as possible than ignore the possibility.”

“I agree. I'll see who I can get in touch with too.”

“That would be great. Keep a list so we don't duplicate our efforts.”

Alexia nodded to the television and picked up the remote to up the volume.

The announcer was saying, “Authorities report that a serial killer seems to be targeting the Columbia High School class of 2002. Already, Leslie Stanton and Patricia Morris have been identified as victims of this killer, both graduates in 2002.” He looked at his coanchor. “Coincidentally, the class of 2002 is working on their ten-year reunion to take place at the end of September.”

The pretty woman shook her perfectly styled dark hair. “I have to say I'm glad I graduated in 1998. This is simply a terrifying time in our city right now. If you know these victims and think you might have anything relevant to add to the investigation, we urge you to call our hotline at 1-800-TIPACOP.”

Serena frowned at the television. “I can't believe they released those notes. What were they thinking?”

“That they're smoking out a killer?”

“Maybe.” She smirked at Alexia. “
Smoking
out a killer?”

Her friend shrugged. “I can't help it. It's in my blood.”

Serena glanced at the clock. “I have a meeting at 9:00. I need to go.” She rounded the table and gave Alexia a hug. “Thanks for coming over.”

“Anytime.” Alexia paused. “Hunter said something about preferring I stay over here anyway.”

“He's still worried the guy that kidnapped you is going to come back and try again?”

“Yeah.” She shivered and frowned. “I can't say the possibility hasn't occurred to me.”

“Hunter's staying close to you, isn't he?”

“Real close.” Her frown slid into a soft smile. “I'm not complaining.”

Alexia sighed and Serena grinned. “You sound positively sappy.”

Her friend laughed. “I am.You want me to come back tonight?”

Serena cocked her head as she gathered her keys and purse. “That depends. How's your mom doing?”

“Better. She's home resting. I'm getting ready to head over and check on her.”

“Are she and Michael getting serious?”

Alexia grimaced. “I think so.” The fact that Alexia's mother had been dating the pastor at her church when Alexia had come home several weeks ago was a shock to her friend.

“Why the screwed-up face? I thought you liked him.”

“I do. I just . . .” She shrugged. “I don't know. It's just still weird, that's all.”

Serena smiled. “You'll get used to it.”

“Yeah, I think I'd better. I think he's going to ask her to marry him just as soon as she's recovered well enough to handle it.”

Serena gave her friend a pat on the shoulder. “She could do worse.”

This time Alexia's look was heated enough to fry eggs. “She
has
done worse.”

“True.” Alexia's father had been a real loser when she'd been growing up. Serena was afraid if her friend found him now, nothing would be different. Once a loser, always a loser?

True, God could change a person, but still, the man she remembered was the stuff of nightmares. She wasn't sure anyone could change that much. Keeping her opinion to herself, she said, “I've
got to run. If you want to come back tonight, I would love it, to be honest. You check your schedule and let me know.”

“Sure. I've got to go too.” Alexia gathered her purse and overnight bag. “I'll see you later.”

She watched Alexia drive off and closed her eyes briefly to offer up a prayer for the law enforcement officers working this case.
Please let them catch this guy.

In the garage, Serena opened the back door of her SUV and dropped her purse and briefcase on the backseat. She shut the door and climbed into the driver's seat, her mind clicking like crazy.

She started to crank the car when something caught her eye. She turned and saw the doll sitting there on her passenger seat.

She gasped, gaped.

Then ordered her mind to function.

Bolting from the car, she raced out of the garage, looked around the surrounding area, and saw nothing that alarmed her. Nothing to indicate someone had been near her car.

Shock and fear making her legs weak, she stumbled back to her car to grab her phone from her purse. She punched in Dominic's number and waited. He answered on the first ring.

“Hello?”

“I need you to come over to my house. The killer's been in my garage.”

“What!” His shout stung her ear and she grimaced. Before she had time to explain, he said, “I just left there two hours ago. I'm on my way.”

“I'm calling Rick. Then I've got to call Alexia and tell her. She was here when the killer was, she needs to watch her back.”

“I'll get everyone else.”

Hands shaking, she dialed and lifted the phone to her ear once more.

Rick answered on the second ring. “You need something?”

“Yes, I need you to process the evidence sitting in my car.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean bring your kit and come on over to my house.”

“Okay, see you in a few.” Rick sounded puzzled, but it would all clear up for him once he got over here.

Ten minutes later, Dominic pulled into her driveway, jaw tight, eyes flashing.

“Show me.”

Dominic stared at the doll sitting in Serena's car. She looked completely different than the other ones. Straight light brown hair, hazel eyes, two little hoop earrings pierced through the ears. Dressed in a pair of jeans and a short-sleeved T-shirt.

And the 4 × 6 note card with the cryptic little message.

Serena read aloud,“‘Eenie meenie miney moe, now you see her, now you don't. The game is close but the clock ticks on. King me, checkmate, or are you just a con? Look close, look near, she's calling your name. It's your move, it's your play in this cat-and-mouse game.'” She licked her lips and repeated, “Look close, look near, she's calling your name.”

Dominic grunted. “He references checkers with the ‘king me' thing. And chess with the checkmate statement.” Pursing his lips, Dominic blew a disgusted raspberry. “He's a really bad poet.”

Serena shook her head. “He may be a bad poet, but he's good at confusing me. There's no dead body again, just the note.”

“Yeah, no package either, just the doll.” Dominic pursed his lips and looked at the doll again. Then he met Serena's gaze. “Was your car locked?”

“No, it was in my closed garage. I didn't even think about locking it in here.”

For the next ten minutes, they bounced ideas off one another as to how the person who had left the doll had gained access to her garage.

“I was here all night,” he muttered and paced. “The windows are tight. Locked,” Dominic noted as he looked around the area. “I tested them the other day and it doesn't look like they've been touched.”