When A Heart Stops Part 13

"It's been ten years and I still can't forget her." Colton fisted his hand and slammed it onto the desk in front of him.

Dominic leaned forward and placed his hands on the table. "What are you talking about? Give me details."

Colton lifted his eyes and Dominic winced at the pain glittering in them. "I was in love with her in high school. I wanted to marry her."

"Serena didn't tell me that."

A harsh laugh slipped from the detective. "That's because Serena didn't know." He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. "Jillian and I kept our relations.h.i.+p a secret because of my family. They never would have approved of her." He shrugged. "I didn't care about her background, but she did. Said she didn't want to embarra.s.s me." He gave a wry smile. "I promised her I wasn't embarra.s.sed and that my family would come around. But she said she wouldn't date me if there was any chance that it would mess up my relations.h.i.+p with my parents."

"Your parents expected you to date someone more fitting of their social cla.s.s? People still have those kinds of hang-ups?"

"Yeah. At least my parents did." Colton shrugged. "My parents were very clear about their expectations. I was to go to law school and join my father's practice. I was to only date or marry someone they approved of. Very . . . old school, they would say. I just call them sn.o.bs."

Dominic lifted a brow. "I see how well that plan worked out."

"Yep." A glimmer of a smile reached the man's eyes, then faded. "I love them, but I'm my own man, and if they don't like it, I'm sorry, that's just the way it is." He rubbed his head and his gaze hardened. "Unfortunately, they don't like it much." He blew out a breath. "Jillian left town and I haven't heard from her in ten years. No goodbye, no letter, nothing. I was afraid she'd been killed or kidnapped or something. But when I went to her house looking for her, her mother showed me a letter Jillian left. It just said, 'I have to go. I love you.'"

"That's it?"

"Yeah. So, I decided to find her on my own. I went to college, started walking the path my parents had laid out for me, but I . . . became obsessed with finding Jillian. I quit school, went to the academy, and became a cop." He smirked. "Much to my parents' horror. Then I became a detective." He shut his eyes and rubbed them. "And I still haven't found her."

Dominic blew out a sigh. "Well, that explains why she would ask Serena about you."

Colton stood, a determined light now s.h.i.+ning in his gaze. "You don't have to call me now. Jillian was what I wanted to talk about, but sounds like I need to talk to Serena."

"I can tell you right now, she doesn't know where Jillian is. She said Jillian called, asked a few questions, and said she'd be coming home soon, that she had things she needed to take care of."

The light dimmed. "Tell Serena I want to know the minute she hears from Jillian. I have a few things to take care of myself."

Colton turned on his heel and exited the conference room. Dominic watched the man go, then noticed Hunter and Katie lingering in the hallway. "What's up?" he asked them.

"Any word on the package left on your doorstep?" Hunter asked.

"No, Rick said he'd call me if he found anything he hadn't already told me. The dolls are handmade, carved, sanded, painted, and dressed with handmade items."

Katie's brows drew together. "Is it a special kind of wood or . . . ?"

Dominic shook his head. "It's a soft balsa wood. Very common and found at any home improvement store."

"So the killer may fancy himself as some kind of artist." Katie pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes.

Dominic touched her shoulder, concerned. "You okay?"

She grimaced and dropped her hand. "Yes. Just a bit of a headache."

"You need some time off? It hasn't been that long since you were shot."

She straightened her shoulders, her posture defensive. "I'm fine. What else needs to be done?"

Hunter said, "This guy may have some artistic talent, but all the handmade stuff could be that he just wants to make sure he's not leaving a trail behind. Common wood, no store-bought clothes."

Katie nodded. "But store-bought fabric. He has to get the fabric from somewhere to make the clothes, right?"

Dominic rubbed the side of his nose. "True. That might be a good place to start. Katie, you want to talk to Rick and see if he can come up with some ideas of where the fabric may have come from? You know, is it fancy stuff sold only in upscale fabric stores, or is it something we can't trace because it came from a local chain?"

"Sure. I'm on it."

"Thanks." She headed off and Hunter glanced at his watch. Dominic asked, "You need to be somewhere?"

"Not yet." Hunter rubbed his hands together, then shoved them in his pockets.

Dominic frowned. "You're nervous about something. What is it?"

Hunter blew out a deep breath, looked up the hallway, then back down. He leaned in close. "I'm meeting Alexia for lunch."

"Yeah? So?"

"And . . . uh . . . we're going to . . . uh . . . a store."

"A store."

"Right."

Suspicion hit him. "And what store would that be?"

Hunter rocked back on his heels, then grinned, nervousness fading to be replaced by glee. "Reed's."

"Reed's. As in . . . ?" He tapped his ring finger on his left hand.

"Yep. As in."

"She's not a diamond kind of girl," Dominic said.

Hunter pursed his lips. "I think I'm aware of that, thanks."

"Go with a pearl engagement ring and you'll nail it."

"She said a small one, nothing fancy."

Dominic hesitated. "I'd go somewhere in between."

Hunter let out another breath. "Yeah, that's what I was thinking. Thanks."

Dominic slapped the man on the back. "Now let's go see if we can find this killer before your lunch date."

All nervousness fled Hunter's face as his eyes hardened with determination. "Let's do it."

15.

WEDNESDAY, 10:20 A.M.

Once they found the body, the cops would swarm the crime scene like ants on a discarded candy bar. Well, they could look all they wanted, but they'd never find what they were looking for.

HE always said cops were dumb.

And of course, HE'd been proven right. But sometimes cops got lucky. It might be best to tread carefully regardless.

Tension slithered through the killer as the prey came into sight. The hunt for the next player in the game was almost as exciting as the capture-and the kill.

Kelsey Nicholson exited the doctor's office.

Hunkering down in the backseat of Kelsey's Subaru, the killer popped the plastic cover off the needle.

Serena's nerves hopped as she pushed the half-finished cup of coffee aside. She was antsy, restless. And not just from all of the caffeine she'd inhaled over the last few hours. She still couldn't stop thinking about the fact that she'd been so close to kissing Dominic.

And the fact that she wouldn't mind an instant replay of the moment in the kitchen.

Minus the ringing doorbell and the package left on the porch and Dominic's mad dash into the night to chase after a possible killer and . . .

Focus. Focus. Focus.

She'd pulled the files on all of the victims of the Doll Maker Killer. All nine. Nine missing women. Ranging in age from twenty-two to thirty-eight. All Caucasian. All very pretty. All killed in Columbia, South Carolina, over a three-year period-1992 to 1995. And then the killings just stopped.

Or the killer started hiding the bodies instead of placing them where they could be found.

Nevertheless, all was silent for a year, then Drake Lindell was arrested after authorities received an anonymous tip, along with a picture of two of the victims alive and in the room the caller said needed to be searched. That had been enough to get a search warrant for a room below a shed on the man's property.

They'd searched the area and found more than enough evidence to put Drake away.

Serena took each of Lindell's victims' files and laid them on the counter s.p.a.ce she'd cleared for this purpose. She wondered if these nine could possibly have any connection to the nine missing women mentioned at Dominic's house the other night. She made a note to ask.

"What are you doing?"

Serena turned to see Paul standing in the doorway. "Hey there." She turned back to the files. "I was curious about something, so I'm looking for some answers."

"We've got a light workload today. Want some help?"

"Possibly." She waved him over. "Take a look at these. All of these girls were murdered by the same guy. His signature is all over the murders."

"And?"

"And someone is copying him. But who? Who would have inside knowledge into how he worked? The details of the scenes?" She thought about everything she knew. "Was there any detail the cops didn't release to the media?"

"You're talking to yourself, aren't you?"

She jerked. "Yes."

"Good, because I don't know any of the answers." Paul picked up the nearest file. "Cause of death-gunshot to the forehead."

"Right."

"And he left a package with a doll in it," he muttered.

"Right again. According to the authorities, the original Doll Maker Killer was indiscriminate about what the dolls looked like. This time around, we're not sure yet if the killer will use the dolls to represent his next victim."

"What do you mean?"

"This new killer is taking a lot of the Doll Maker Killer's modus operandi and using them, but he's also coming into his own."

"As a killer."

"Unfortunately."

"But there's only been one person killed," Paul pointed out.

"We have one body," Serena corrected. "One body and two dolls." She told him about the special delivery Dominic had received last night. "The first doll looked like Leslie, with blue eyes and straight black hair. The doll found on Dominic's porch had curly brown hair and green eyes. But this time, unlike the original Doll Maker Killer, this killer didn't leave a body with the doll."

"Sick." Paul shook his head. "And I don't mean 'sick' as in 'awesome.' I mean that's just sick."

Serena gave a short nod. "I know. Definitely a very twisted person."

Her a.s.sistant nodded. "Right." His frown deepened. "That's kind of scary, Serena."

"Tell me about it. Rick brought up a good point. If the Doll Maker Killer left a doll, there should be a body somewhere." The more she thought about it, the more she knew that was right.

"So where's the body? The one that goes with Dominic's package."

She sighed. "He could have killed her and buried her anywhere. We won't find her unless he wants us to."

Paul's lips twisted. "You'll find it."

"You sound awfully sure of that."

"Well, think about it. Why leave the gifts if he's not going to give you the body? Isn't that the whole point?" He shook his head. "She'll turn up."

Serena had a feeling he was right. "But this is another aberration. The original Doll Maker Killer never sent his packages ahead of time. They always came with the body. So, I don't think we can predict what this killer will do based on what the first killer did."

Paul asked, "Where were all of these girls found? Were they spread out or in the same general area?"

"I don't know. I'm just getting ready to pull out the corkboard and a city map and make me a little diagram."

Paul grinned at her. "Isn't that the cops' job?"