Race Against Time Page 8

  “I’m glad to hear that.”

  “Can we talk about something else?”

  Sheriff Carl raised his eyebrows and nodded slowly. “Absolutely.” He sighed and leaned forward, the weariness of the case dragging at his features again. “We need to figure out why the killer is picking his victims. There’s got to be a reason behind it. But what do Willie, Victor and Madison have in common? That’s what doesn’t make sense.”

  “They’re all locals. They grew up in this area.”

  “But is that enough of a connection?”

  Brody tapped his finger on the desk. “That’s the question.”

  His mind went to Madison again, as it often did. Why did such an amazing woman have to be the target of a killer? Not that anyone deserved to be a target. But the world just seemed like it would be a much dimmer place without her. She had a gentle spirit and heart full of love.

  It was obvious from the clues this man was leaving that the killer was taunting them. He wanted to play games with them, to toy with them.

  A sick feeling settled in Brody’s gut. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like this one bit.

  First thing in the morning he needed to talk to Madison again. So much for keeping his distance.

  * * *

  Madison’s heart nearly pounded out of her chest. Cold sweat covered her.

  What would her attacker do now? And when he finished with her, would he go after Lincoln? Kayla?

  Lord, help us.

  “You weren’t supposed to survive, Madison, but superstar detective Brody Philips found you just in time. I figure you survived for a reason. Everything’s for a reason, right? Well your reason is going to be to give Detective Philips a message for me. Tell him I’m not done. Tell him there will be more. And tell him everyone’s blood is on his hands.” He leaned closer. “If you scream before I leave, I’ll bypass the front door and pay your son a visit, instead. Do you understand?”

  Madison nodded, knowing terror was written all over her features. She’d do anything to protect Lincoln. Anything.

  Slowly, the man slipped away. Out of her room. Almost like a phantom he was so quiet.

  She listened, waiting breathlessly to hear which direction he would go. Fearful he would walk toward Lincoln’s room. But he was so quiet. She could hardly hear anything. Wondered if she’d imagined him.

  But her lips still felt numb from where he’d pressed his glove over her mouth.

  He was no dream, but a real-life nightmare, instead.

  She felt frozen where she was. She needed to get up, to call the police, yet her limbs wouldn’t cooperate. She felt chained to the mattress.

  Lincoln…what if he’d gotten Lincoln?

  The mere thought caused adrenaline to surge through her. In one swift motion, she was out of bed and hurrying down the hall. She threw the door open to Lincoln’s room, fully expecting to see the man there, leaning over her son’s bed just as he’d done to hers.

  Instead, all was still.

  She tiptoed to her son’s bed and sat on the edge of the mattress. A moment later she heard his even breathing. He was okay.

  Tears of relief rushed to her eyes, and her heart slowed a bit.

  But where had the man gone? Certainly, he’d left.

  Still, fear nagged at her.

  She reached onto the nightstand and grabbed the phone. She dialed the number she now knew by heart—Brody’s number. He answered on the first ring.

  “Kayla, what’s going on? Is something wrong?”

  “It’s Madison. And yes, something’s wrong. You need to get here now. My attacker came back for a visit and he left a message for you.”

  As soon as she hung up, she had the thought that maybe she should check on Kayla. She hated to leave Lincoln, though, but why wake him up and scare him if there was no reason to do so. She’d leave his door open. Kayla’s room was right across the hall, so Madison could still hear Lincoln.

  Reluctantly she left Lincoln’s side. She crept across the hall, her eyes darting from side to side in search for her intruder. All appeared quiet.

  She gently rapped on Kayla’s door. The moments stretched by. Was her friend okay? Should Madison bust inside? What if her friend was hurt at this very moment and she was just standing there?

  Just as Madison reached for the doorknob, the door opened. There stood Kayla, sleepy eyed, but okay. Relief again filled Madison.

  “You’re shaking,” Kayla said.

  “Kayla, he came back. Into your house.”

  “Who came back?”

  “My attacker.”

  “He was in my house?” Kayla’s head swung from left to right, as if looking for him.

  “I just called Brody. I had to make sure you were okay, though.”

  Kayla reached forward and gave her a hug. “I’m glad he didn’t hurt you again.”

  The adrenaline that had propelled Madison to check on Lincoln and Kayla began to fade and shock about what had happened caused her to tremble all over.

  A rap at the door caused both of them to swing their heads toward the noise.

  “It’s me. Brody. Open up.”

  The two women walked arm in arm to the door. Kayla fumbled with the locks until the door finally opened. Brody stepped inside, soaking both of them in. “Is anyone hurt?”

  “No, we’re fine,” Madison mumbled.

  “Let me check the house. Where’s Lincoln?”

  “He’s slept through all of this. He’s still in his room. No need to freak him out if we don’t have to.”

  “Why don’t you go in his room and stay with him until I’m done?”

  Madison didn’t want to be anywhere else, not until she knew for sure that her attacker was gone. She slipped inside the dark room and listened again for the even sound of her son’s breathing. There it was. So peaceful and unaware. For a moment, she felt jealous. What would it be like to be naive again? Had every naive part of her been stripped away in the past few years?

  Brody’s frame appeared in the doorway. “Everything’s clear,” he whispered. “Except I haven’t checked this room yet.”

  Chills again raced up her spine. What if her attacker had been in the closet this entire time? “Please do.”

  Using a penlight, he quietly opened the closet and peered inside. He then checked under the bed. “You’re safe.”

  But was she? Would she ever be?

  Brody stepped closer and lowered his voice. His nearness made her throat go dry. “I need you to tell me exactly what happened.”

  She nodded and crossed her arms over her chest as she followed him into the living room. Kayla paced by the couch. Her head snapped up when they walked in, and fear shone in her big eyes. “How did this guy get into my place? I checked the back door, the windows. Everything is locked. I never even heard anything.”

  Brody eased his cousin into a side chair before backing up until he sat across from her. “We don’t know how the suspect is getting in. It almost seems like he has to have a key.”

  Kayla shook her head. “My parents are the only other people who have a key to my place.”

  “We’ll figure that one out in a minute. Right now, I need to hear what happened tonight.”

  Kayla stood, the lines on her face stretched with tension. “I’ll fix some coffee. I need to do something to stay busy.”

  Madison sat on the opposite end of the couch from Brody, the tremors still racking her body. She sat on her hands, trying to control the shakes, but they didn’t go away.

  Brody’s guarded gaze met Madison’s. “Would a blanket help?”

  She shook her head. Nothing would help, but she didn’t say that aloud.

  “Are you ready to talk about it?”r />
  Her trembling intensified as she mentally reviewed what to say. The scent of leather, her temporary paralysis as she realized the man was atop her, the helpless feeling that overcame her when she realized she was at the man’s mercy—again. She pulled her legs under her and wrapped her arms over her chest. A blanket did sound good on second thought. She yanked a throw from the back of the couch and tucked it around herself.

  When she looked up, Brody still stared at her, compassion written in the depths of his stare. He didn’t say anything, only waited patiently for her to begin. She licked her lips and cleared her throat as she tried to work up the courage to relive the events of the evening. When she finally spoke, her voice hardly sounded like her own. “I woke up and he was over me, his hand slapped against my mouth so I couldn’t scream. He said that since I survived, he figured there was a reason for it. The reason was that I was supposed to be his messenger.”

  Brody’s eyes narrowed. “His messenger?”

  “His message is for you.” She locked gazes with the detective across from her, carefully watching his reaction.

  Brody tensed, the action so obvious that Madison saw his muscles tightened all the way from the ridges in his arms to his jaw. “He has a message for me? What was it?”

  She licked her lips again. “He said that everyone’s blood was on your hands.”

  “My hands?”

  “That’s what he said. He made it sound like there would be more. He said ‘everyone’s.’ What does that mean?”

  Brody shifted. Before he answered, his cell phone vibrated. He pulled the phone off and put it to his ear.

  Madison watched carefully as Brody’s face hardened. She braced herself for whatever news he was receiving. Had they caught her attacker? Did they have a new lead? She could hardly stand waiting for him to hang up. When he did finally close the phone, he stood. His eyes had a tortured look about them.

  “What’s going on?”

  “They just found another body. It looks like the work of your attacker.”

  Madison closed her eyes and sucked in a sharp breath. She had a feeling this was far from over.

  Evil had just invaded her peaceful little town.

  NINE

  The woman’s lifeless body lay across the carpeted floor, blood gushing around her. She’d—or more likely, a killer—had cut her wrists. The room was bare except for the woman’s body, a bookcase with a few random pictures and an egg timer.

  The woman could have been Madison. The only difference was that Brody had found Madison before death had claimed her. This woman hadn’t been so lucky.

  “What’s her name?” Brody asked grimly, pen and paper in hand.

  The deputy who’d arrived first at the scene placed his hands on his hips and looked at the body again. “Brooklyn Davis.”

  Brody’s heart rate quickened and he gave the deputy a sharp glance. “Brooklyn, you said?”

  “She just moved here a couple of months ago.”

  That would explain her sparsely decorated apartment, Brody mused. The room was now crowded with the medical examiner, two members of the crime-scene unit and members of the Sheriff’s Department.

  “The apartment manager had to come and check for a plumbing problem. He found her. Someone is notifying her family down in Georgia now.”

  “Any idea why she moved to York County?” Brody asked.

  “She works at the hospital as a nurse.”

  A nurse? Brody pivoted until he could see the woman’s face. He sucked in a quick breath. This was the nurse he’d met while Madison was at the hospital, the flirtatious one who’d worked behind the counter.

  The killer was taunting them. He’d even reached out to Madison a second time in order to make sure they were getting the message. But somehow Brody seemed to be in the middle of this and not because he was the lead detective on the case.

  Could this have any connection to Lindsey?

  He shook his head. No, that was crazy. It was his imagination making connections that weren’t there. What possible connection could Lindsey have to all of this?

  Yet everything seemed so similar.

  Brody swallowed resolutely, trying to push down his emotions. “I need to see the suicide note.”

  The deputy, wearing gloves, brought it to him. Brody pulled on his own gloves to examine the note. Before he even read the words, he soaked in the first letter of each sentence.

  “William,” he muttered

  Sheriff Carl stepped behind him and shook his head. “We’ve got a lot of Williams around here. Take your pick.”

  “What do we do? Warn all of them?” Brody raised his shoulders with the question, exasperated by the generic name.

  “We need to figure out a way to narrow it down.”

  Brody stepped toward the sheriff and lowered his voice. “The killer came back and left Madison a message tonight. He told her that everyone’s blood was on my hands.”

  Sheriff Carl’s eyebrows shot up. “On your hands? Any idea what that means?”

  Brody shook his head. “No clue.”

  The sheriff’s gaze turned serious. “I want you to keep an eye on Madison. If he sent her one message, he might get brave enough to try again. I want you to be there if he does…and be there to keep her safe.”

  “We have a deputy patrolling the house.”

  “It’s not enough. This madman got past that deputy tonight, didn’t he? She needs someone with her at all times. Her father and I were best friends growing up. I have to watch out for everyone in this town, but I especially need to watch out for Madison. The girl’s already been through so much.”

  Brody shifted his weight and tried to keep his voice even. “How am I supposed to investigate this case and keep an eye on her? Respectfully speaking, sir.”

  “Staying closer to her might just be the best way to catch this guy. He’ll be back. And I want you to be there when he does.”

  * * *

  Madison stepped out the front door in the morning to tell Kayla and Lincoln goodbye and was surprised to see Brody in his sheriff’s sedan out front. How long had he been there? All night? Was everything okay?

  She marched toward his car, not caring that she was still wearing a bathrobe over her pajamas or about the sloppy ponytail slung at the back of her head. She’d been awake all night with nothing to do but think. And the more she thought about everything that had happened, the more questions she had.

  Brody saw her coming and rolled down the window before she reached him. His green eyes seemed to have a subdued sparkle to them, despite the circles forming underneath them. “Good morning.”

  “What are you doing here, Brody?”

  He leaned his head to the side, the action appearing to be out of exhaustion. “Keeping an eye on you.”

  She put a hand on her hip. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Sheriff’s orders.”

  She nodded. Of course. Brody wouldn’t keep an eye on her of his own free will. But Sheriff Carl was the exact type of person who’d be so concerned over her safety that he’d assign someone to guard her. “I see. So you’ve been out here all night?”

  “Pretty much.”

  She tugged at the door handle and, finding it unlocked, she climbed inside and looked Brody square in the eye. “I need you to be honest with me. My life and the life of my son are on the line here. I need to know what’s going on.”

  Brody looked away and drew in a slow breath. His jaw flexed a couple of times before he looked back at her. “The sheriff gave me permission to speak with you about some elements of the case. You might find what I’m going to tell you hard to hear, though.”

  Madison drew in a long breath. “Okay.”

  “It’s about the m
urder I investigated last night.”

  “What about it?” she asked anxiously.

  “It was made to look like a suicide, Madison.”

  Madison’s heart stammered a moment. “Who was she?”

  “Her name was Brooklyn. She had just moved here from out of state.”

  Her pounding heart seemed to freeze a moment. Brooklyn hadn’t been as fortunate as she had been. Madison didn’t know why she’d been spared, but she was thankful. A nudge of guilt crept in also, but she pushed it aside.

  “There’s more,” Brody said.

  “What is it?”

  “There were two other suicides in the county. We thought they were just that—suicides. But it’s now become apparent that they were murders, also.”

  All the air drained from Madison’s lungs. “We have a serial killer?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  Madison ran her hands over her face. “This is just crazy. I…I don’t even know what to think.”

  “It’s a lot to soak in.”

  “Why is he targeting you, Brody? Why did he say their blood was on your hands? What aren’t you telling me?”

  “I have no idea, Madison,” he ground out. “Sometimes people are just sick. They don’t have rhyme or reason for what they do. Sometimes they’re on drugs, sometimes they have mental problems. Who knows?”

  “What now?”

  “Now we hope he makes a mistake and leaves some evidence that will help us track him down.”

  She looked up at him. “How’d he get into Kayla’s house last night?”

  “Just like at your place, there’s no evidence of a forced entry. It seems like he must have had a key. Now how he got that key, we don’t know. There was no evidence of forced entry at any of the victims’ homes.” He exhaled sharply. “In fact, if you hadn’t survived, Madison, we may not have even realized that we had a killer on our hands.”

  “Did he leave another note this time?”

  “He did,” Brody confirmed.