Race Against Time Read online

  He leaned the door against the porch. “I think I can handle this.”

  “If it’s okay, I think I’ll go to my office for a few minutes. I can’t afford to take many days off of work. I need to start rescheduling some of my appointments that I missed yesterday and today.”

  “You going to be okay going back inside by yourself?” His gaze searched hers.

  Madison nodded, though she didn’t feel as confident. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

  She waited until Brody had torn down the plywood on the front of her home before she ventured inside and down the hallway. Her breathing became shallow with each step she took. The door to her bedroom remained closed and she left it that way. That was the one room in her home that she wasn’t prepared to face yet.

  Instead she slipped into her office. Sensory images began hitting her, first of the knife at her throat, then the sound of the man’s gravelly voice as he’d forced her in here and made her write that suicide note. She’d done so, afraid of upsetting him, hoping maybe she’d buy some time and figure out a way of getting out of the situation. No such luck. She’d only delayed the inevitable.

  If it hadn’t been for Brody…

  She shook her head and gripped the edge of the desk. She couldn’t let herself think like that. But obviously God did want her alive for a reason. He had a plan and purpose for her life. Her time wasn’t up yet. She’d do her best to ensure it remained that way.

  But if the killer had his way, would he remedy that? Would he play God again and try to end her life? Shivers racked her body.

  Focus, Madison. Focus.

  With shaking hands she opened her appointment book and stared at the sessions she’d missed yesterday. If she wanted to pay her bills this month, she would need to reschedule those appointments for tomorrow. She had two family-portrait sessions, baseball-team pictures for a local high school and a store opening for the newspaper. Today she’d had scheduled some headshots at a dance studio, pictures of a foster family for the newspaper and even a few properties she’d agreed to photograph for a real-estate agency.

  Her favorite thing to take pictures of was the bay outside her window. But she found taking pictures of people paid better. Nature wasn’t as picky about its pictures. People were. It didn’t cooperate or complain or try to tell her how to set up the shot. Because she had to make money, she let her clients have the final say most of the time. After all, the customer was always right. But one day she had dreams of taking pictures of nature—God’s handiwork—that she could frame and sell at local galleries. But until that dream became a reality, she only had time to take pictures that guaranteed money. If that’s what it took to provide for her family, then that’s what she’d do.

  Sure, Reid had had life insurance. He and Madison had purchased it at the ripe old age of twenty-three. Back then they’d assumed they were both going to live forever. They’d taken out a policy that had ultimately allowed her to pay for the funeral, pay off her student loans and the remainder of her car. Certainly if they could have looked into the future, they would have planned better. But they hadn’t and what was done was done. The church was kind enough to give her a discounted rate on Lincoln’s preschool. Without that answered prayer, Madison didn’t know how she would manage to work. Childcare was so expensive. Her parents had offered to move back up here and help her out, but Madison knew that she had to learn to stand on her own two feet. She couldn’t ask her parents to give up their lives in order to help her. The idea had been tempting, however.

  In the distance, she heard Brody hammering away. Hearing a man work in her home felt odd. Reid had been the handyman in the family, the one who could fix anything she needed. Since he’d died, her house didn’t quite look the same. Sure, she’d learned to hang pictures halfway straight and centered, and even to change hard-to-reach light bulbs without electrocuting herself. She’d even bought a new entertainment center and managed to assemble the entire thing on her own. But if Madison was honest she’d admit that she missed having someone around to help out, to ease her burden.

  She knew that no one would ever replace Reid, though. He’d been one of a kind, her soul mate. And losing him had hurt like a piece of herself had been removed—without anesthesia or pain medication. She’d found love once, but she never wanted to open herself up to that heartache again. The pain was just too overwhelming.

  She especially didn’t want to open herself up to Brody, so this strange attraction she’d been feeling toward him yesterday and today needed to go away. She prided herself on keeping herself separate from her emotions, of being able to put on a brave front. She needed to draw on that now.

  She sighed and picked up the phone. She might as well start making those phone calls. What did she say to her clients? I’m sorry I missed our appointment yesterday but someone tried to kill me? She shook her head. That would only sound absurd. She’d tell them she’d had an emergency come up. But in a town as small as Seaford, everyone had certainly already heard the whole story—at least, they’d heard someone’s version of the whole story.

  She’d need God’s strength to get through the next few days. She knew she couldn’t do it on her own.

  * * *

  Just as Madison hung up from her last call, a knock sounded at her office door. She looked up and saw Brody filling the doorway. The sight of him made her heart quicken again, much to her chagrin. Life was easier when she thought of the man simply as a plastic Ken doll, not as a man with compassion and kindness.

  Brody nodded down the hall. “The front door is up. You want to check it out?”

  “That was fast.” She stood and followed him down the hallway. She was surprised at what she saw in the foyer. Not only had he put up her new door, but he’d also swept and cleaned the entire area. She could hardly tell that anything had happened there. “It looks great.”

  He ran his hand down the finished wood, wiping some dust from it. “A little bit of soapy water and it will practically seem like the house has had a face-lift.”

  She waved him off. “I think I can handle some soapy water. I just can’t thank you enough for all of your help.”

  “I don’t mind. I kind of like being handy sometimes.”

  She looked up at him and blanched at how close he stood. Close enough that she could smell spearmint, to see the flecks of gold in his stubble, close enough to feel overwhelmed by his size and strength. Her throat went dry and she stepped back. “Thank you, then. Let me get you a check for the door before I forget—” She took a step toward her office, but Brody grabbed her arm.

  “Don’t worry about it.” He shrugged. “After all, I’m the reason you needed a new door.”

  “You broke it down so you could save my life.”

  “I said don’t worry about it.”

  The way his hands went to his hips and he raised his gaze made it clear that there was no room for argument. Madison still planned on paying him back, though. She just had to do a few of these photography jobs first. She’d let his stubbornness buy her some time.

  “I guess you need to get back to work now,” she murmured.

  His expression made it clear that he did have to go—but that he didn’t want to. “I do. I need to see if we can track down whomever sent you this picture. The sooner we catch this guy, the sooner your life will return to normal.”

  “As normal as it can be after something like this.”

  “I can’t argue with that.” He stepped toward the door. The way he stopped there made it seem like he was almost trying to think of a reason to stay. “Madison, call me if you need anything—anything at all. Promise?”

  “I do.”

  “Are you staying with Kayla tonight?”

  Kayla had invited her to stay for as long as needed. “Probably.”

  “I think that’s a good idea.” He glanc
ed around the foyer again before his gaze fell on Madison. “Keep the doors locked.”

  “I will.”

  Madison stayed at the door and watched Brody as he crossed the lawn to his truck. He’d been a godsend, she couldn’t deny that. It would have taken her at least a week to get someone out to fix that door if it hadn’t been for him. Sure, she could have probably called someone from church or one of her friends to help her, but the truth was that her relationships had suffered since Reid died. The friends that Madison had had in the area while growing up had mostly moved away. She still knew a few people who lived in various parts of the county, but, like most parents of preschoolers, life was hectic and busy and with time they’d lost touch. Perhaps she should have tried harder, but at the end of most days she was exhausted.

  After Brody disappeared into his truck, she went back to her office. She glanced out the window as she sat down. The beautiful Chesapeake Bay stared back at her. She and Reid had purchased this home while he’d been stationed down in Hampton at Langley Air Force Base. Madison had actually moved away from York County when she went to college. Then she and Reid had married. Their first station had been in Patrick Air Force Base in Florida. They’d moved back to Seaford two months before Lincoln was born. They didn’t know how long Reid was going to be stationed here, but they knew this was the place they wanted to end up one day. That’s why they’d purchased the small house located across the Chesapeake Bay. The home wasn’t their dream home, but the location was perfect. It fed both Madison’s creative side and Reid’s need for space and land.

  Something in the distance caught her gaze. Mr. Steinbeck, an older gentleman who’d taken to being both a school bus driver and a fisherman in his retirement, docked his boat on the bay as he did nearly every day in the summer. Locals nicknamed him Fillet since he sold fish out of his truck off the main highway through town on most days.

  The man was a little different. He had a tendency to stare, probably without realizing it, but Madison could never tell what the thoughts behind the stare meant. He’d made her uncomfortable, but Reid had always insisted that the man simply didn’t have many social graces. He’d lived alone for as long as Madison had known him and seemed to simply lack interpersonal skills more than anything else.

  A pier jutted through the marshlands to the water, and there were a few locals whom Madison allowed to use the space. Like clockwork, Mr. Steinbeck appeared at the pier every day around eleven o’clock to begin his excursion. And almost every day he saw Madison either coming or going. He would have had ample time to have gotten a grasp on her schedule.

  Would someone like Mr. Steinbeck be responsible for committing such a despicable crime? Madison just couldn’t see it. He seemed like such a gentle—albeit awkward—soul. But weren’t the best criminals the ones who blended in, who tricked their victims into thinking they could do no harm?

  As Madison leaned back in her office chair, she glanced outside at him again. He stood on his boat, wearing camouflage waders and a fisherman’s hat. He blended right into the environment. And he was staring at her office window, almost as if he could see inside.

  What if Mr. Steinbeck was more than a friendly local? What if he was behind her attack yesterday?

  Chills ran up her spine at the thought, and she scooted closer to her desk and away from the open window. After yesterday she didn’t know whom she could trust, and she wasn’t taking any chances.

  SIX

  Brody didn’t want to leave—yet he did. He wanted to stick close to Madison to make sure the madman who was out there stayed far away. Yet in order to catch that madman, he needed to do his job, which required him to be away from her. He’d checked out her house before he’d left to make sure everything was safe. It was. But still, her attacker had gotten in before and hardly left a trace of evidence. He could do it again.

  After he showered and changed, he started down the road to the station. He decided as he drove that he would send someone over to install a security system and cameras in Madison’s house. She wouldn’t like it. She’d insist on paying. But he would do it, anyway—and he wouldn’t accept a dime for it. After all, if he’d been a little friendlier with her when he’d moved in, then maybe he would have stopped by her house for coffee after his morning jog and deterred this lunatic from breaking in.

  Those were all what-ifs. His friendship with her may have meant nothing.

  Truth was none of it really mattered. His job was to solve this case, not to protect Madison. What was it about her that tugged at his heartstrings, anyway? He was usually so good at keeping his distance from the people he served. Some would say that made him a bad detective and others would say the opposite. He didn’t know what he’d say anymore. He only knew that there was something about Madison’s clear eyes, her flawless complexion and her shapely lips that did a number on his heart.

  Still he hated to leave the woman right now in what she had to consider the house of horrors.

  It would be like Brody having to live in the same apartment where Lindsey had…

  He shook his head. He didn’t want his thoughts to go there. He’d tried hard to put that behind him, even moved here to Virginia to get away from his old life.

  But would he ever be able to truly put it behind him?

  Yesterday had dredged up so many memories of Lindsey. There were so many similarities between the way he’d found Lindsey and the way he’d found Madison. The whole suicide scene brought back the remembrances. The only difference was that he’d shown up at Lindsey’s place in response to a police call. He’d thought the address sounded familiar. But then he’d walked into her house and found her dead. He was still reeling from seeing her lifeless body when he’d found the suicide note.

  I gave you my heart, and you walked away. Your arrogance has hurt too many people. You never consider other people’s feelings…

  He and Lindsey had met at one of Manhattan’s trendy clubs and dated for three months. Lindsey, a teacher by trade, had been a nice girl, except when she drank—which had happened all the time. Brody had thought if she got some help that the two of them might have a chance at a relationship. But Lindsey wouldn’t even acknowledge that she’d had a drinking problem. Brody had broken up with her, hoping that might be a wake-up call. Things hadn’t ended the way he’d hoped. Not at all.

  He shook the memories off. He needed to check with the other detective to see if he’d found out any new information about the other two suicides that had happened in York County since Brody had arrived. What if they weren’t suicides, either? What if there really was a serial killer loose here in York County?

  He strode over to Detective Blackston’s desk as soon as he got to work. The detective, long and lean—a former cross-country runner—glanced up from some files on his desk.

  “Find out anything yet?” Brody asked.

  “I met with Willie’s family this morning,” said Blackston. “Both his mom and dad said they still had trouble believing he would have committed suicide, even with all of the problems he was having emotionally at the time. But there’s also no evidence to indicate that it wasn’t suicide. I’m looking over the crime-scene photos now.”

  What Madison had told him about the egg timer remained stuck in his head. It had been an integral part of the crime. Had the other victims heard that egg timer also? None of the detectives would have thought anything strange to see an egg timer in someone’s home. That would be the next thing that Brody investigated. That might just be the evidence that tied all of the cases together.

  Brody’s cell phone buzzed. He looked at the number and saw that it was Madison. Immediately, he tensed. Had something else happened? He shouldn’t have ever left her.

  “Madison,” he answered. “Is everything okay?”

  “Everything’s fine. Look, I was wondering if I could see the suicide note, Brody. S
omething about it keeps nagging me.”

  The suicide note? Now why would she want to see that? “I can make you a copy. How about if I bring it to Kayla’s place after work?”

  “Perfect. Thank you.”

  Against his better judgment, he called to her before she hung up. “Madison?”

  “Yes?”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked gruffly.

  “Yeah, I’m fine, Brody. Thank you.”

  Why didn’t he feel reassured then?

  * * *

  Madison couldn’t stand being in her own house alone. But she couldn’t bear the thought of going back to Kayla’s house and staying there alone, either. So instead she collected everything she thought she might need—some clothes that she’d left in the laundry room, her camera, her appointment book—got in her SUV and started driving. The open road seemed safe enough.

  But even on the open road she couldn’t outrun her memories. The feeling of the noose around her neck, the needle being injected into her neck, the panic that had raced through her began to close in on her.

  Just what the killer wanted, probably. Death was too easy. Once it was done, it was done. But for someone twisted, playing these mental games could really give them their kicks.

  How had her would-be killer gotten her cell-phone number? Whoever had done this had planned in advance. He’d left the noose in her room, he’d sent her that stupid egg timer, he’d probably studied her to see when she came and went.

  This wasn’t a random act of violence. But why Madison? Why, of all the people in Seaford, had the killer picked her to torture? It just didn’t make sense. Did he have some kind of connection to her?

  She just had to trust that God was watching over her, and rely on her faith to get her through this. Her faith had been her only comfort in life’s trying times. She knew it could sustain her now, too. It also helped to know that Brody was doing his job and would track down the madman. Trusting both God and Brody was all she could do. She wasn’t one to play detective herself.