Thursday, February 25, 4:00 a.m.
He was so tired. He parked his car next to his wife’s BMW and was tempted to go to sleep right there in the garage, but his wife would wonder where he was when she awoke to an empty bed. He didn’t hate his wife. They had a mutually beneficial relationship. She received a generous allowance for her support, showed up on his arm at all the right functions, never expected sex, and conscientiously kept his secret.
Or what she believed to be his secret. Through twenty years of marriage, she’d believed him to be gay. It wasn’t the optimal solution, but it did explain to her satisfaction why he never touched her. He closed the door into the kitchen, frowning when he switched on the light. Something was different. It took him only a second.
She’d moved the cat’s bowl. He didn’t like it when she changed things. She knew this. It had been the only occasion he’d needed to strike her during their marriage. She’d learned quickly and kept things the way he liked ever since. Until tonight.
He opened cupboards, careful not to wake her. He didn’t care a whit if she got her beauty sleep, but she was his cover. That’s all she’d ever been. The cat’s bowl was nowhere to be seen. Maybe she’d broken it and hoped he wouldn’t know.
He always knew, could always instantly see any item out of its place. He climbed the stairs, his temper seething. It was exhaustion and he reined his temper in. He’d deal with her in the morning, after she’d woken to see him soundly asleep beside her.
He’d brought her a cup of tea tonight, as he always did. Laced it with enough narcotic to have her sleeping through the night, as he always did when he was going out. As he’d done every night this week. He closed the bedroom door behind him.
And stopped. She wasn’t in the bed. Carefully he turned. And stopped again.
She was sitting in one of the chintz chairs by the window and in her hand she held a gun. His heart began to beat harder. He recognized the gun. It was one of the many he kept at his place. She’d been to his place. “What’s this?” he asked quietly.
“I didn’t drink the tea tonight,” she said. “Or last night. Or the night before.” She paused meaningfully, tilting her head. “Or the night before that.”
Sunday. “Why didn’t you drink your tea?” he asked, injecting a note of hurt into his voice. She was small, manageable. Taking the gun would be no issue.
“Because of your cat. I was sneezing all the time, so I took an allergy pill.”
“What does this have to do with the tea?” He took a step forward and she brought the gun up, smoothly. Interesting. They’d been married twenty years and he never knew she could handle a weapon. Looking back, he probably should have asked.
“Don’t come any closer,” she said and he could hear the underlying fright. Panic. Disgust. “And keep your hands where I can see them. The allergy pill interacted with whatever it is you put in that tea. It made me sick. I threw up the tea. And I was awake when you came in on Sunday night. Monday morning, actually. You were out all night.”
“I was with a patient,” he lied.
“You had sex. I can always tell. I thought you’d gone discreetly about your business with your newest boy of the month. Which was fine, but then you were gone Monday night, too. You slipped into bed, thinking I was asleep. I smelled perfume. Ladies’ perfume. I could accept your alternate lifestyle. I was willing to be your cover. But you were cheating. With women.”
He tilted his head, feigning puzzlement. He needed to get to the gun in his pocket. “Let me get this straight. You’re angry because I’m not gay?”
“Don’t,” she said, disgusted. “Don’t even try to charm me. I followed you.”
He narrowed his eyes. “And?”
“I know what you did. I saw you last night. I followed you to your other house, saw you change cars, then I watched you wait for that woman outside that bar and follow her home.” She sat back and leveled him an even stare. “I thought, ‘He has another home. Another life. Maybe even another wife. That’s why he doesn’t want me.’ I couldn’t stand wondering, so I went back to that house today.”
His fists clenched. “You had no right.”
She laughed, hollowly, dully. “My God. You can stand there and speak to me of rights? I saw your basement. Your… shoes. My God. You’re a monster. How long? How long have you been killing?”
“Thirty years,” he said, oddly pleased that he could finally tell someone.
She shook her head, helplessly. “I… opened the pit. I can’t stop thinking about it. I see that hand, sticking up, every time I close my eyes. Why did you do it?”
“Because I wanted to,” he said simply and she shook her head in disbelief.
“You’re a monster. And no one will believe that you’re capable. You have everyone fooled. Everyone but me. I know what you are and you aren’t going to get away with this.” She started to pull the trigger, but he was faster. He leapt forward and wrested the gun from her hand, her cry of pain barely registering. He tossed the gun to the bed and dragged her up against him, his arm over her throat. Her gun had no silencer and the shot would wake the whole neighborhood.
Pulling his own silenced gun from his pocket, he pulled her to the bathroom and shoved her into the tub, holding her as she fought. “Just one question. Where is my cat?”
She twisted to stare up at him, defiant in her fear. “Dead,” she spat.
He clenched his jaw. “You bitch.” Then he shot her in the head, stepping back as she slumped. “I should have stayed single,” he murmured, panting. “Dammit.”
Now he’d have to explain to their friends where she’d gone.
Thursday, February 25, 7:00 a.m.
Coffee. Noah drew a deep breath, the aroma teasing him awake. Sex and coffee. He wasn’t sure a man needed a whole lot more than that. He rolled out of bed, a little creaky after tackling Dell, but his mind was alert. He hadn’t gotten any calls during the night, so Natalie Clooney and Kathy Kirk, Eve’s last two red-zone cases, were all right.
He still didn’t believe Donner had killed five women, but he had the very bad feeling that Farmer’s mocking “pow” and “night-night-Noah and his pretty Eve, too” were more than petty taunts. Donner was involved, or he wouldn’t have run.
Pulling on pants, he found Eve sitting in his kitchen wearing only his shirt, frowning at the morning’s newspaper headline. He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck and stole a look down the shirt at her breasts. “I like you in my shirt,” he murmured.
She looked up over her shoulder, her dark eyes troubled. “Sit down.”
She gave him the front page and he hissed an oath. “I guess we expected this,” he said grimly. HAT SQUAD MURDER-SUICIDE, the headline read. He scanned the article, keeping his temper in check. “They make it sound like we know Jack did it.”
She got up to pour his coffee, then set a mug next to his elbow and leaned over his shoulder, her cheek pressed against his. It was the support and affection he’d craved, and greedily he took it in.
“They mention Farmer’s capture,” she murmured, “and his father’s murder a few pages in, but nobody’s tied their motive to Jack and Katie.”
“We should have tied it together for them last night.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“It’s an internal investigation now. They’ll have to clear Jack.”
“I called the hospital this morning. They’re not giving out any information.”
“Abbott said he’d call when he heard something. I guess no news at this point is still good news. I wish MSP never published that damn article. When you were untying Brock last night, Dell was screaming that the magazine made us look like gods.”
“I thought ‘white knights,’ when I first read it.” She kissed his temple. “You want some eggs? I can’t do omelets because I couldn’t find the knives.”
“You started talking in your sleep, so I got up and locked them in my gun safe. I’ll make you a key so you can get to them when you’re awake.”
She sighed wearily. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. We both bring baggage, Eve. We both have nightmares.” He hesitated. “Mine are especially bad whenever I go to the bar.”
Now she looked away. “So if we…” She picked at the shirt of his she wore. “If this continues, I’d have to quit.”
“I wouldn’t expect that, Eve. I know what Sal and Josie mean to you, and you to them. But I can’t visit you there.” He tugged on the tail of his shirt, pulling her to his lap. “If this continues, we’ll both give and take. In the grand scheme, your job, my knives, not a big deal.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I dreamed of him last night.”
“I know. It gave me chills.” Bone deep chills that had kept him awake for a while.
“I wish I could make them stop.”
“They’ll pass, Eve, the dreams and the voices. Mine took years, yours may take longer.” He took her hand, threaded their fingers together. “It’ll be all right.”
She pressed their joined hands to her lips. “I believe you.” Then she abruptly turned his hand over, her expression suddenly taut. “Dell Farmer wasn’t wearing a ring.”
Noah stared at his hand, his chest growing tight with dread. “No, he wasn’t.”
“David said the man who ran him off the road was wearing a ring, like yours. So either David was wrong, Farmer lost his ring, or…”
“Or somebody else ran David off the road.” He closed his eyes, trying to remember the scene at Harvey Sr.’s house. “The father wasn’t wearing one either.” He dug his cell phone from his pocket. “I’ll call Olivia.”
As he dialed, there was a knock at his front door. He opened his door to Olivia, holding her ringing phone. “We gotta talk, Web.” She pushed her way in before he could say another word, then stopped, her eyes gone wide. “Well, hello, darlin’.”
Eve halted her attempted flight and leaned against the wall, arms crossed, long legs bare. Her face was red, her scar visibly white. “Olivia,” she said, warningly.
“I was going to ask if you had a good night, Web, but I can see that you did.” She looked at Eve. “And next time my sister asks if you’re happy, I’ll know to say yes.”
Noah dragged one hand down his face. “Give us a minute to get dressed. There’s coffee in the pot. We need to talk to you about Dell Farmer.”
“That’s why I’m here. He was tracking your car, and Jack’s. I found the device under your engine block. Jack’s car had one, too.”
“Well, that explains a lot,” Noah said. “I wondered how he seemed to know when to follow us. He was at every victim’s scene and there when we interviewed the families.”
“I checked Katie’s cell LUDs,” Olivia said. “Lots of calls to Dell’s cell matching up to calls made between you and Jack, going back about three weeks.”
“Since MSP hit the stands,” Eve said, “and Katie hit on Jack.”
“She was tipping off Dell every time Jack got a call. Have you heard anything?”
“They won’t tell me anything,” Olivia said, “except that he’s not conscious.”
“Farmer wasn’t wearing a ring,” Noah said abruptly.
“Somebody else ran David off the road,” Eve said. “Somebody else was after me.”
Olivia didn’t look surprised. “Farmer wasn’t driving a black SUV last night. And he seemed to think it was really funny when we questioned him about it.”
“He said Donner ‘almost got you good tonight,’ ” Noah said slowly, a piece falling into place in his mind. “Did you trace any of his calls to that reporter from the Mirror?”
Olivia’s lips thinned. “The one who wrote that trash story on Jack? Yeah, his number’s in Dell’s call log, not fifteen minutes before the reporter showed up.”
“At the Bolyards’ house,” Noah said. “He knew that’s where we were. And that reporter’s first question wasn’t about the Bolyards’ homicide, it was about Jack.”
“Dell was there,” Eve said. “He saw something. He saw someone try to get you.”
“Get us,” Noah corrected. “That somebody tried to get you first, yesterday.”
“He was there, outside the Bolyards’,” Olivia said. “They both were. Dell and the killer. The other killer.” She scrunched her eyes. “Sorry, it’s been a long night.”
“Why? Why me?” Eve asked, but by the look in her eyes Noah knew she knew.
“It’s all about Shadowland,” he said. “Your test. Your subjects.”
“We almost got him coming out of Rachel’s,” Olivia said. “Because you alerted us.”
Eve leaned against the wall, stunned. “And now he wants me gone. Damn, why do I always get involved with these people? I’m a god-damn trouble magnet.”
“Dell started with the ‘pow’ shit when he heard me say Donner’s name, and the Bolyards told that TV reporter that it was Donner that followed Martha out that night.”
Eve shook her head. “I still can’t see Dr. Donner killing five women, Noah. I can’t.”
“I’m having trouble with it myself. But we won’t know until we find him, and he’s run.”
“Could Dell know where he is?” Eve asked uncertainly and Olivia shook her head.
“He wouldn’t talk. And I don’t want to start out offering him any deals.”
“Let’s talk it with the team,” Noah said. “We’ll get dressed and follow you in.”
Thursday, February 25, 7:30 a.m.
“Hurry,” Liza muttered, rushing down the stairs of her apartment. “Be late, be late.” The words were for her school bus. If she missed the bus, she’d have to walk three miles and miss the test she had first period. She burst out of the apartment building, relieved to see kids at the bus stop at the end of the block.
“What’s your rush?” Liza heard the silky voice a moment before she felt something sharp at her back. “Scream and you die,” a man’s voice promised softly.
She sucked in a breath to scream her lungs out anyway, but his hand covered her mouth, yanking her head backward. He was strong, dragging her into the alley between her building and the next. Fear gave her strength and she flailed, biting his hand. The gun abruptly disappeared from her back, but she was stunned by a blow to the side of her head. Dazed, she tried to fight, until a needle pricked her neck.
Seconds later he had her under his arm, dragging her through the snow. She could see an outline of a dark vehicle ahead. She tried to scream, but she couldn’t move her mouth. Couldn’t move anything. Tom. He wouldn’t know she was gone for hours.
He pushed her eyelids closed and she couldn’t open them. “Your sister is dead,” he whispered in her ear. “And soon you will be, too.” Then she landed hard on the floorboard of his backseat and the car drove away.
Thursday, February 25, 8:00 a.m.
The mood around Abbott’s table was silently grim as the team waited for Abbott to return from his meeting with the commander. Noah had put Eve at his own desk with orders not to move for anyone. Right now she wore the biggest target of them all.
Olivia and Kane were tired after their fruitless hours in Interview with Dell. Micki also looked exhausted, having coordinated multiple crime scenes. Ian had actually fallen asleep sitting up. Four new bodies in the morgue kept the MEs busy through the night.
Carleton’s shoulders sagged, his eyes on Jack’s empty chair. No news was no longer good news.
Abbott returned, and one look at his face said his meeting had not gone well. The commander had a right to be perturbed. Five dead women and they didn’t have shit.
Abbott threw a stack of local newspapers on the table. The headline on every one was Jack’s alleged murder-suicide, but each had an equally damaging variation on the Mirror’s NEW RED DRESS VICTIM FOUND, with the details of Rachel Ward’s death. Below the headline was the smaller “Two Witnesses Slain” and “Cops Have No Leads.”
Ian jerked awake as the papers slid across the table, Micki patting his hand silently.
“Jack is unchanged,” Abbott began tersely, saying nothing about the newspapers. The headlines spoke for themselves. “The doctors aren’t hopeful. His dad’s with him.”
Noah closed his eyes until the fury passed. “Do we know what he took?”
Abbott pursed his lips. “This is delicate. Internal Affairs has the case, but we all know Jack was set up. I’ve been given clearance to give you certain information as it may connect to Dell Farmer, which may connect to Donner…”
“Which may connect to five dead women,” Noah said bitterly. “So IA’s helping us?”
“More like reluctantly cooperating. There was Oxycodone and Valium in Jack’s whiskey bottle. The empty prescription bottles were in Dell’s car.”
“At Rachel’s he swore he’d only had one drink,” Noah said hollowly. “Katie must have been slipping stuff in his booze all along. I blamed him for getting there too late.”
Olivia gave his arm a brief squeeze. “You didn’t know, Noah.”
“Jack was late a lot before Katie came into the picture,” Micki added softly. “It was a perfect storm, I guess.”
Carleton nodded wearily. “Apt description,” he murmured. “Such a waste.”
“Were Dell’s prints in Jack’s house?” Noah asked.
“Yes,” Abbott said. “Dell was there. So far, however, we have not found Dell’s prints in Donner’s house, so it seems their only connection is Dell’s rant last night.”
“What about Donner?” Noah asked. “We get his LUDs yet?”
“Still waiting for them,” Abbott said. “When we’re done here, we’ll go search his office at Marshall, and check his next of kin. I got the warrants signed overnight.”
“We?” Noah asked.
“We,” Abbott confirmed. “Until I get you a new partner, we’re riding together.”
It was going to be a very long day. “Okay.”
“Glad you heartily approve,” Abbott said dryly. “Kane, anything on Jeremy Lyons?”
“Security at Marshall found his car in one of the lots last night,” Kane said. “He hasn’t called home, hasn’t used his credit cards, didn’t pick his kid up from day care.”
“So Lyons is either gone under or dead,” Abbott said. “Putting us no closer to determining who’s doing this. The one bright spot is that the two potential victims Eve identified weren’t contacted and are still safe.”
“He could be done,” Olivia said. “We almost caught him coming from Rachel Ward’s. Maybe that was enough to convince him to stop.”
Carleton looked unconvinced. “I don’t think he’ll stop until you stop him or until he accomplishes whatever it is he’s trying to do.”
“What is he trying to do?” Abbott snapped. “Goddammit.”
Carleton appeared unoffended. “Do that to you. Make you ruffled. Throw you off.”
“Well, he’s doing a damn good job,” Abbott grunted. “But I take your point. Once we find Donner, we’ll start getting some answers.”
“God, I hope it is him,” Noah murmured.
“But you still don’t think it is,” Abbott said, then shrugged. “He framed Axel Girard, Donner could be a setup, too. We need to know what Dell knows and how he knows it.”
“We should be careful with Farmer. His reality isn’t cogent. He ain’t right,” Carleton added dryly when everyone gave him a puzzled look. “We need to consider what he says accordingly.”
“Right now he’s all we have,” Abbott said, “cogent or no. Ian, anything?”
“The Bolyards were shot with the same gun, a nine-mil. Harvey Farmer and Katie Dobbs were killed with a same, but different gun, higher caliber. Katie’s face had lacerations and bruises, probably from a fist.” He hesitated. “Katie had had intercourse an hour before her death. Unlikely that it was consensual.”
Noah gritted his teeth. “Jack did not rape her. Dell did,” he said even as a new wave of nausea rolled through him at the thought of what Dell might have done to Eve.
“I told IA that,” Ian said quietly. “Based on the blood spatter, Katie’s body temp, and the chemical levels in Jack’s blood, he was already unconscious when she was shot. It might have been harder to definitively say that, however, if we hadn’t gotten there when we did. That open window would have muddied things considerably.”
“So,” Abbott said, “we need to at least ask the question. Open windows at Harvey’s house and Jack’s. Any chance Dell could have killed five women?”
Carleton shook his head. “It’s far more likely Dell just picked up this element of the Shadowland killer’s MO. He seems like a quick study, writing news articles that Buckland’s editor accepted as genuine. He’s not a stupid man.”
“Just not cogent in his reality,” Abbott said sarcastically. “Olivia, Katie was his brother’s fiancée, but he used her to hurt Jack. There’s something there. Use it to froth him up. Get him agitated, then get him talking. I want to know what Dell saw last night. Micki, anything from the Bolyard house?”
“No forced entry. So far no forensics. Looks like he caught them by surprise at dinner. The wife was probably shot from the doorway. She fell face-first into her dinner. The husband was collapsed over her, probably protecting her.”
“Would have better protected her by not confronting Donner in a coffee house,” Abbott grunted. “What else?”
Micki produced a small plastic bag. “Cat hair, found in Rachel’s living room. It matches cat hair we took from Martha’s carpet. It doesn’t give us any more on the killer’s identity, but it’s a connection to give the DA when we finally catch him, just like this one.” She put a photo on the table. “Christy, leaving the diner. Look at her shoes.”
They did, everyone frowning. “And?” Noah asked.
“They’re Manolos, four hundred bucks a pair,” Micki said.
“Spendy,” Olivia said. “I still don’t get it. Why are the shoes important?”
“Because they weren’t in her closet, they weren’t anywhere in her house,” Micki said.
“His souvenirs,” Carleton said. “It’s very common for serial killers to take souvenirs, and shoes are among the most common things to keep. Again, nice connection once you find him, but not terribly helpful to me in forming a profile.”
Micki looked unhappy. “I’m done now.”
“It’s good work, Mick,” Abbott said, trying to smooth over Carleton’s tone.
Carleton winced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be dismissive. Knowing he collects things is just more of the same. It doesn’t help me, help you.” He glanced at his watch. “I have a patient at nine. Call me if there’s any change in Jack’s condition.”
“Will do,” Abbott said, then turned back to the team. “Today, we focus on finding Donner and cracking Dell Farmer. Noah, you and I will go to Donner’s office at Marshall and execute the warrant. Olivia and Kane, you’ve got Farmer.”
“What about the coffee shop?” Noah asked. “The TV reporter said that Bolyard saw Donner there. They’ll have tapes. Eve says Donner eats at the Deli. Let’s start there.”
Abbott shook his head. “I went by the Deli as soon as they opened this morning. Security video is only of the register and the barista didn’t remember Martha, Bolyard, or Donner. Let’s meet back here at two. I have a press conference at three, so get me something.” He met their eyes, grim. “A killer would be nice. Web, you’re with me.”
Noah stopped at his desk to get his hat and coat and found Eve staring at her laptop screen, her expression intent. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“Trying to keep busy. Natalie won big at the casino last night because Dasich and one other player got thrown out for cheating and-” She pursed her lips. “I’m babbling. Dr. Pierce stopped by on his way out. He said he had dinner with Dean Jacoby last night. They know it was me. He said Jacoby wants to see me this morning, but I told him you’d made me promise to stay here.”
He wasn’t sure what to say. “Eve, you did the right thing. Whatever happens.”
“I know,” she said, then smiled, ruefully. “Luckily I’m a damn good bartender so I’ll still have one career. You take your desk. I know you’ve got work to do.”
“It’s okay. You stay here. I’m on my way out.”
“Noah?” She stood as he buttoned his coat. “They’re releasing David from the hospital this morning and I have to take him home. I can’t stay here forever.”
Yes, you can. The thought rose above the worry and he tucked it away. There would be time for that later. He looked at Abbott, who was waiting impatiently. “Bruce?”
Abbott looked irritated. “I’ll have someone drive her over later. Now let’s go.”
“Captain, wait.” Faye hurried up to them, a paper in one hand. “Donner’s LUDs. His last call went to 411 at 10:40, but the one before that went to his mother, around 6:00 p.m. Here’s her address. You want me to have the locals meet you there?”
Abbott grabbed the papers greedily. “Yeah, call ’em, but tell them to stay back until we get there. Thanks, Faye. Noah, let’s roll.”
Thursday, February 25, 8:30 a.m.
Olivia and Kane were preparing for another go at Dell Farmer when Olivia got a call from narcotics that left her smiling, albeit grimly.
“What?” Kane asked when she hung up.
She told him about the call from Tom Hunter in the middle of the night and the dealer Damon who might have license plate info. “Two SUVs could be a coincidence, but we can’t afford to assume. That was my old pal in narc. They have Damon in custody.”
“How much did he have on him?”
“Recreational. But that violates his parole, so we’re in business. I want to know if he saw the license plate on that Navigator.”
“He’s gonna want a deal,” Kane said glumly, in his way that reminded her of Eeyore.
“I know. Let’s go to the DA, see if he’ll give us wiggle room.”
Kane paused at the bullpen door. “What about her?”
Olivia turned back to look at Eve, who sat at Noah’s desk, hunched over her computer. “She’s digging in that game, hoping to find something we can use.”
“Wish I’d never heard of that damn game,” Kane said as they walked to the elevator.
Olivia punched the button so hard her finger buckled. “Don’t we all?”
Thursday, February 25, 8:45 a.m.
Liza screamed. She was running, couldn’t get away. Lindsay chased her, her face gray, gaunt. Dead. She’s dead, she’s dead. But the scream never made it out of Liza’s mouth, coming out as a muffled grunt. Her body wasn’t moving. She was tied, she realized. Her hands and feet were tied. She breathed through her nose.
Her mouth. It was taped shut. It came back in a rush. The man, his hand over her mouth, the sting of a needle on her neck. What did he give me? Where am I?
She opened her eyes a slit, relieved when her lids obeyed. It was dark, and they were moving. A car. She remembered his car. I’m in the trunk.
Do not lose it now, she commanded herself. She focused on the breaths she took. And as her pulse steadied, she knew she was not alone. She could smell… blood.
Oh my God. Lindsay. She clenched her eyes shut, refusing to look. Maybe he lied, to scare you, to make you obey. Maybe she’s alive, maybe she needs you. Open your eyes and look. Dammit, girl, look. Her heart pounding in her ears, she made her eyes open, blinking to see in the darkness. Then saw what she’d smelled.
She froze, the scream trapped in her throat. Eyes. Open eyes. Staring at me.
Lindsay was dead. I will be, too.
Thursday, February 25, 9:15 a.m.
Noah checked out the car in Adele Donner’s driveway, his gun drawn. “Covered in snow. Been here all night.” He and Abbott went up the front walk while two uniformed officers went to the back. They had the exits covered.
Abbott rapped on the door, hard. “Police,” he called. “Come out, Donner.”
The door opened, revealing two women, one about ninety and the other perhaps fifty. “We’re both Mrs. Donner,” the older woman said, her chin up. “What do you want?”
Donner’s mother and his wife. The wife’s eyes were red and swollen and she cried quietly. The old woman’s eyes, though, were clear and cold as ice.
Abbott looked over their heads. “Step aside, ladies. Please.”
“Do you have a warrant?” the ninety-year-old demanded.
“Yes,” Abbott started, but Noah held up his hand.
“Mrs. Donner, you know why we’re here. Please don’t make this any harder.”
Donner’s mother’s chin wobbled, her only sign of weakness. “He’s not here.”
Abbott’s jaw hardened. “What do you mean, he’s not here? His car is here. His wife is here. Where is your son, Mrs. Donner?”
Donner’s wife wiped her eyes. “He’s out back. At the pond.”
Noah started to run. A single set of footprints marred the snow and by the look of them, they weren’t fresh. From the snow that had filled them, they were hours old. No footprints came back to the house. Donner had left during the night and not returned.
Noah strode through the snow, motioning to the uniforms to spread out. But when he got to the pond he abruptly stopped. His breath hung in the air as he stared at the bench at the pond’s frozen edge. He lowered his pistol. No need for it now.
“Goddammit,” one of the uniforms cursed, barely managing to stop before stepping in what had been Donald Donner’s brains. “What the fuck is this?”
Noah pursed his lips, swallowing back the bile. Animals had done what animals do, but there was enough of Donner left to see the pistol in his ringless right hand.
He turned to find Abbott staring as well. Together they walked back to the house and knocked on the front door again. This time Donner’s mother let them in.
“We want this to be over,” she said with dignity, then placed their hats on a sideboard before leading them to the living room where Donner’s wife sat in a chair, sobbing. Adele Donner lowered herself to a sofa, looking every one of her ninety years.
“He had a brain tumor,” Adele said. “The doctors gave him less than a thirty percent chance. All my son wanted was to see his work published one more time.” She took a sealed envelope from the table beside her and gave it to Noah. “He wrote you a letter, Detective. He told me to give it to you.”
“He never would have hurt anyone,” Donner’s wife said. “He couldn’t live with knowing that his study… That all those women died.”
“When did he shoot himself?” Noah asked softly.
“About eight o’clock last night,” Adele answered. “That bench was his favorite spot.”
Eight o’clock, Noah thought. Before the last call from his home phone went to 411.
“You heard the shot?” Abbott asked.
Both women nodded. “And we knew it was over,” Adele said. “It was what Donald wanted. He’d suffered so much, I couldn’t tell him no.”
“Why didn’t you call 911?” Abbott asked, more gently.
Adele Donner cast a quick look at her daughter-in-law. “I don’t drive at night, and last night she… well, she just couldn’t drive. We decided that we’d drive into town this morning, to see the sheriff.”
Donner’s wife closed her eyes. “My mother-in-law wanted to call 911. But I didn’t want to be here when they took him away.”
Noah stood, his shoulders heavy. “We’ll get someone out here to take care of him.”
In the car Abbott was grim. “He still could have done all five murders, you know.”
“I know. But do you think he did?”
“No. What does the letter say?”
Noah scanned its contents. “What you’d expect. He does give his regards to Eve.”
Abbott started the car. “I’m sure you won’t mind passing that on.”
Noah’s jaw tightened. “Why are you being like this? We wouldn’t have a case if she hadn’t come forward.”
“She didn’t come forward, Noah. We had to drag her in here.”
“Not true. You’ve always been reasonable before. What’s the problem now?”
“The problem is that she continues to be a distraction.”
“She’s a target.”
“Then put her in a safe house. You know I’m right.”
Abbott was right. Then again, so was Eve. But Abbott’s order would keep her safe.
“If you don’t, then I will,” Abbott said quietly. “I mean it, Noah.”
Noah nodded. “Okay. I’ll take her back to Brock. Will that work?”
“I’ll take her,” Abbott said, irritated. “I want you focused. And I swear, if I have to tell you that one more time… Well, I won’t tell you. I’ll just yank you from this case.”
“Okay,” Noah said, teeth clenched. “I hear you.”
Thursday, February 25, 10:45 a.m.
“I’m not going to Brock’s,” Eve said, putting her laptop in her bag. “His kids can’t stay away forever and I will not put this target I’m wearing on their heads.” She looked at Abbott, resigned. “I’ll take the safe house.”
“Eve,” Noah started, but she lifted her hand to stop him.
“Do safe houses have cable?” she asked Abbott, and to Noah’s surprise, he smiled.
“All the channels you can surf,” Abbott said, “and free wi-fi to boot.”
Her lips curved. “Can I order any takeout I want?”
“Don’t push it, Eve,” Abbott said dryly. “Let’s go.”
“Wait,” she said. “Noah, what about David? Who’s going to take care of him?”
“His brother Max,” Noah said. “He’ll stay with David until he can go back to Chicago.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “You called Max?”
Noah shook his head. “No, I called David. Apparently Tom called his stepfather last night and told him the whole story. Max left Chicago a few hours ago.”
She looked up with a forced smile and he knew how much this pseudo-incarceration was costing her. “Will you come to see me?”
He kissed her brow, not caring who saw. “You bet. Now go.” He helped her with her coat and watched her walk away, chin lifted in the gesture he’d come to expect.
The phone on his desk rang and he picked up, his eyes still on her. “Webster.”
“My name is Natalie Clooney. T-the officers l-last night… Th-they said to call you.”
Noah cupped the phone, dread pooling at her hysterical stutter. “Eve. Tell Abbott to come back.” Dropping his hand, he answered the call. “What happened, Miss Clooney?”
“My f-friend. Virginia. She’s d-dead.”
Noah sank into his chair as Abbott approached grimly, Eve following behind. “How?”
“Sh-she’s hanging.” Natalie was sobbing. “Her eyes… They’re gone.”
Thursday, February 25, 11:10 a.m.
Noah had tried to mentally prepare himself for what he’d find in Virginia Fox’s house, but there was no way he could have. He looked up into her hollow eye sockets and it was all he could do to keep his stomach in check.
“Donner didn’t do this,” he said hoarsely.
“No, he couldn’t have,” Abbott said, his voice dull.
“Why not?” The question came from Carleton Pierce, who had just arrived behind Ian Gilles and the ME techs. Carleton stopped dead in his tracks as he entered the room. “Holy God.”
Noah stepped back as Micki snapped pictures of the scene. “Donald Donner committed suicide last night. Sometime around eight o’clock.”
Carleton did a double take. “He did what?”
“He killed himself, okay?” Noah snarled, then forced himself to calm. “I’m sorry. It’s been a bad day. Donner was dying. He shot himself last night.”
“I don’t even know why I’m bothering to photograph this scene,” Micki muttered. “It looks like all the others.”
“Except the victim,” Noah said. She was dressed like the others. Same dress, same shoes, same makeup. Everything except the eyes. “Virginia was not on Eve’s list.”
“What? How do you know?” Carleton asked.
“Because Eve just called me. She’s sitting at my desk, checking the damn list, and this woman is not on it. And if we don’t find him, she could be next.”
“She won’t be next,” Abbott said. “Kane’s taking her to a safe house as we speak.”
Noah turned to Carleton. “Virginia wasn’t on the list, but she was a close friend of Natalie, who’s been one of Eve’s red-zone cases for weeks. Why did he change now? Every victim had been on that list. Why choose one who was not?”
“I don’t know,” Carleton said tersely. “Maybe just to throw us off.”
“Well it did.” Noah went to the living room where Natalie sat on the sofa, rocking herself, her face dangerously pale. “Miss Clooney, I need to ask you a few questions.”
“Of course,” Natalie said through bloodless lips.
“You said Miss Fox was a programmer.”
“Office assistant, actually, She and I started out at the company together.”
“In the same office?”
“No. I got my certifications and was promoted a few years ago. I’m the director of our department. Virginia reports… reported to one of my people.”
“Did she mention any boyfriends, any new relationships?”
“No. Well, yes, but not in the real world.”
“In Shadowland, then.”
“Yes. She met this guy at the poker table. Oh God.” She started to cry again. “I told her about the warning I got from Captain Abbott. She said that I was just trying to keep her from having a life. Now she’s dead.” She covered her face and rocked.
“I know this is hard, but stay with me. You two played in Shadow-land together?”
Natalie lowered her hands and drew a breath. “She loved to gamble in Vegas, but she lost a lot when the market crashed so she started virtual gambling. It was cheaper.”
“You’re doing great. Now, how did you come to be part of the Shadowland study?”
“She saw the ad in the paper and said I’d enjoy the game. I asked her if she was going to do the study, but she said she got enough of shrinks in therapy. But it seemed important to her that I play, so I joined.”
“I understand you’re a pretty good poker player.”
“I’d never played before. But I pick things up pretty easily. We played poker together, every night. Last night we had a fight. A terrible fight.”
“Tell me what happened.”
“I was winning and she seemed happy for me. But a few weeks ago she met this other gamer and she changed.”
Eve had mentioned this. “Dasich. He and your friend were thrown out for cheating.”
Her eyes widened. “How did you know that?”
“We’ve been keeping an eye on you, in the virtual world and the real one. But we didn’t know about Virginia. What was she afraid of, Miss Clooney?”
“The dark,” she said thinly. “Virginia was terrified of the dark.”
“Do you know why?”
“Yes. Her family lived in Japan in ’95 when they had that big earthquake in Kobe. She was trapped in the dark for three days, dead people all around. Ever since, she couldn’t stand the dark. Always kept a light on in every room.”
So the sonofabitch takes her eyes. “Thank you. I’ll have an officer take you home.”