Sandman (18 page)

“No, thanks, you go on ahead. I’ll finish up here.” What Thomas didn’t say was he couldn’t leave, and it wasn’t just because he thought she might be in danger. He stood at the entrance to the room and gazed down at Meagan McInnis. She looked so lost, so broken. Life had smacked her hard.

For some reason he wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why. He’d been around plenty of victims, some even more attractive than her, but never once had he felt this pull. He just wanted to be near her, to gaze at her, to take care of her. Make sure nothing bad ever happened to her again.

The thoughts running through his mind unsettled him to no end. Maybe it was the dream he was having before coming over here, but he never felt that way about Victoria. She didn’t
need
him. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. What the fuck was he going to do?

Thomas went back into the living room and walked over to where Meagan continued to study her feet.

“I’m going to stay here for the rest of the night.”

THIRTY

Meagan’s head shot up and she stared at him.

“You’re staying here?”

“That’s the only way
I
know of to protect you.”

“So you
do
think I’m in danger.” It wasn’t a question.

“I’m just being cautious. Unless, of course, you have somewhere else to stay?”

“I have friends and family, but if you truly think this guy’s after me, I wouldn’t want anyone else hurt.”

Thomas glanced at his watch. Five-thirty.

“It’ll only be for a couple more hours. I’ll be right here in the living room. You’ll be safe. Why don’t you go see if you can get some sleep? In a little while I’ll call my partner. She’ll stay with you today. That should give us time to figure out what to do until we catch this guy.”

She stared at him blankly, but didn’t move. He crossed the room and held out his hand. She focused on it, then up at his face. His heart galloped in his chest. A moment later she took his hand and let him help her up. When she unfolded herself and stood, he was surprised to see that she was much taller than he’d thought, five-feet-ten, maybe five-eleven, but she was still dwarfed by his six-five frame. He watched her walk away until she was out of sight.

Thomas mentally shook his head and got to work. He called and ordered a trace put on Meagan McInnis’s phone, as well as a record of all incoming calls to her number for the past month. He would have someone drop off her statement later for her to sign after he’d finished typing it up. He’d call Shadowhawk and have her work here today. He would wait until seven; no need to wake her entire family. At least one of them would get a good night’s sleep.

***

Meagan climbed under the covers and waited for sleep. She stared at the window, a sliver of light seeped through a crack in the curtains. The sun was starting to rise. Although exhausted, her brain wouldn’t shut down. Her mind kept replaying the events of the last twenty-four hours over and over again like a scratch in a record.

Her eyes burned. She rubbed them, then covered her head with her pillow as if she could block it all out. She prayed she was just having a bad dream from which she’d soon wake.

***

Thomas checked in with Cooper and James. He told them to set up a stakeout on the apartment. He had dispatch connect him to their cruiser.

“James, here.”

“James, it’s Thomas. How’s it going?”

“Nothing yet. The wife arrived home around four this morning toting some guy. He was too tall to be our perp. Either she doesn’t expect the husband home, or she doesn’t give a shit either way.”

“Takes all kinds. Keep your eyes peeled, and call me the second the guy shows up. The DMV picture is fairly recent, he shouldn’t be difficult to recognize.”

“Cooper is spelling me at six. I’ll let him know.”

“Great, catch ya later.”

Thomas hung up and looked around for something to read. He noticed an array of magazines on the coffee table. He had his choice of
In Style
,
Cosmopolitan
or
People
.

Sighing, he picked up the
People
with Angelina Jolie on the cover. Anything that included her couldn’t be all bad.

An hour later he called his partner and filled her in. Then he asked her to come down to San Clemente and spell him.

“How’s it going with the Dark Knight, you come up with anything yet?” Thomas asked.

“He could be our perp. Sounds like she was falling for the guy in a big way. He even asked her for a photograph. So that’s one mystery solved. Did you notice a computer at Ms. McInnis’s house?”

“No. You’d better bring your laptop to be on the safe side.”

“Okay, see you in about an hour.”

By the time Shadowhawk arrived, Thomas was relieved. He’d read all three magazines and had learned more than he needed to know about the importance of exfoliating skin, what men wanted in bed, and he was still pissed off about the score he received on the
What Kind of Mate Are You?
quiz.

The minute he heard the knock at the door, he threw the
Cosmo
on the coffee table, and jumped up so quickly he got a head rush. When he opened the door he must have looked like a deer caught in the headlights because the first thing out of Shadowhawk’s mouth was, “Is everything all right?”

“Yes.” He must have said it too fast because she still stared at him, hard. His cheeks flamed as if she’d caught him with his pants down, instead of reading a bunch of women’s magazines. “Ms. McInnis is still asleep.”

She seemed satisfied with the answer, because she let it drop and entered the house. He grabbed his jacket off the couch and told her that he was going to talk to the father of the victim. He promised to get someone else to cover the girl so they could return their focus to the Sandman case.

Thomas headed home. Once he entered the house, the first thing he smelled was coffee, and he veered straight for it like a beacon in the night. He filled a cup and took it with him upstairs. A hot shower beckoned.

He was drying himself off when his cell rang.

“Thomas.”

“Detective, it’s Cooper.”

“Is the husband back?” That was sooner than he expected.

“No, there’s been another murder. The detective I interviewed last week in San Diego just called. He said the MO is similar, but not exact. He’s still convinced it’s our guy all the same. The woman
was found on the sand this time, the perp didn’t bother to cover her up. He said it was as if he wanted her found right away.”

“Shit, this guy
is
escalating.”

“Detective Chase said that too. He thinks you’re going to want to see this vic and asked if you could get there ASAP.”

Thomas wrote down the information before hanging up, then dressed and was out the door in five minutes flat.

He called Detective Chase from the road, but couldn’t get much else from him. He told Thomas he wanted him to look at the scene with a set of fresh eyes and get his take on it. By the time he reached the beach in Oceanside, things were winding down. It looked more like a sideshow than a full-blown circus. The CSU had already left and only a few uniforms stood around guarding the site.

But the looky-loos were out in full force standing behind the tape trying to catch a glimpse of a dead body. He found Chase waiting for him by the parking lot and he led him to the body. Thomas stared down.

“Shit, this guy has snapped.” Thomas swallowed hard.

He was quiet a moment while he collected his thoughts. Before him lay the body of a naked woman, her arms and legs had been hacked off, then crudely placed together again like a broken doll. Blood soaked the sand around her. Her breasts were missing. So was her head.

Thomas scrubbed his hands down his face. “This is no dump site. He killed her where she lay. I don’t think he held her for any amount of time, either. There are no ligature marks on her wrists and ankles. He chopped her body parts off while she was still alive. Too much blood.” He pointed while he talked. “I’d say the head was last, not much blood pooled there. She’d pretty much bled out by then. Shit, he’s gone from months to days between kills. I hope he fucked up this time and left us some evidence we can use.”

“There’s no sign of the head or breasts. I think he took them with him,” Chase said.

“I think I can help with that. Well, at least the head.”

Chase looked at him, his eyebrows raised. “No shit?”

“No shit.” Thomas filled him in on the events from the night before.

Chase walked Thomas to his car, promising to keep him in the loop, and vice versa. Thomas was speeding north on I-5 toward Orange County when he called the captain to bring him up to speed.

“Sir, I really need more people. I can’t cover the girl, the primary suspect, and follow leads with the small task force I have.”

“I’m sorry, Thomas, but I wasn’t just blowing smoke up your ass. I really can’t afford to give you anyone else right now. The county doesn’t just shut down because we have a single priority-one case. This guy’s all over the map; let’s hope he’s moving on. Besides, I’ve got Sanchez out on his honeymoon, Benton in New York at a funeral, and half the squad out because of that damn flu going around.

“Lost another one last night: Riker heaved in his cruiser and had to be sent home. Seems this flu is a nasty one, gets you from both ends. They’re still trying to remove the stench from his ride. Do what you can with the manpower you have. If anyone becomes available, I’ll send them your way.”

 “Great,” Thomas said.

THIRTY-ONE

When Bill Carpenter opened the door, he looked shell-shocked. His face was covered in gray stubble, he had bags under his eyes, and his hair stood on end as if he’d been running his hands through it countless times. Thomas decided that he’d better get his questions out of the way before he broke the news about his daughter.

He asked about Lilah’s friends, boyfriends—past and present, as well as any contact information he might have.

Mr. Carpenter disappeared and returned a few minutes later with her address book. He told Thomas he could copy it and return it later. He didn’t know his daughter would no longer have any use for it.

“Sir, why don’t we sit down?”

“Huh, what?” He looked at Thomas as if he were speaking a foreign language.

“I have something I need to tell you, and I think you should be sitting when you hear it.” Thomas ran his hand through his hair.

The father’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “No.”

“Sir, I really think—”

“Oh, God, no.” His face screwed up and his eyes implored Thomas to correct his assumption.

Thomas stared at the man a moment. He didn’t want to be the one to deliver the crashing blow, but he had no choice. He steeled himself for the man’s reaction.

“We found your daughter. I’m afraid she’s dead.”

The man let out a heart-wrenching wail and his knees gave out. Thomas caught him before he collapsed to the ground and half-carried, half-dragged him over to the nearest chair.

Thomas was at a loss. He didn’t know what to do for the man, so he knelt beside Bill Carpenter while he cried, hunched over in the chair, hiding his face with his hands. Thomas patted the man’s back every so often.

After a time Thomas asked, “Is there someone I can call for you? Someone who can come over and be with you right now?”

At first Bill Carpenter just shook his head. Then after a moment he wiped his face and looked at Thomas with a pained expression. “I just want to be alone.”

Thomas nodded. “I’ll let myself out.”

“Thank you.” His head dipped back down.

Thomas made it to the door before he turned back. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Thomas tried to shake his somber mood as he stopped by his house to pack a bag before returning to Meagan’s for the night, but he couldn’t get the image of poor Bill Carpenter out of his head. He wondered if that’s what he looked like after finding Victoria.

Shadowhawk answered his knock, lowered gun by her side. Obviously she’d looked through the peephole first. When he walked into the room he noticed a pizza box on the table and an old black and white movie on pause.

“What are you girls watching?”

“
Rebecca
,” Meagan answered through a full mouth. She swallowed before she continued. “You want some?” She pointed to the box.

Her smile warmed him. He couldn’t hide one of his own. A moment of repose, no matter how fleeting, was always welcome. He knew from experience after Victoria died. Once in awhile he would actually forget she was gone, for about a minute—two if he was lucky—then it would all come crashing down on his head. A simple thing like reaching for the phone to tell her he’d be late could turn his whole world upside down.

He noticed the swelling around Meagan’s eyes had retreated, her face more relaxed. At the moment, she looked like a kid. She was sitting on the couch with her legs crossed, plate on her lap and a glass of milk beside her. Suddenly he realized he’d been staring too long. “Yeah,” he said. “I don’t remember the last time I ate.”

Then she asked, “Are you moving in?”

He glanced down at the bag, then back at her, “I thought it best I have a few things with me tonight. It looks like it’s just Shadowhawk and I watching you for the time being.” He gave his partner a pointed look, and she gave a slight nod. She understood that they had to talk.

Meagan jumped off the couch and disappeared into the kitchen. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Coffee, if you’ve got it,” he yelled back.

“Coffee with pizza? Yuck. You and Fawn both,” her voice rang out.

Shadowhawk lifted her mug in mock salute. Thomas smiled and took a seat in the overstuffed chair. He let the girls have the couch to themselves.

“I suppose you want it black too?” She yelled again.

“Please!”

Meagan returned with a paper plate and a cup of coffee. They ate quietly while they watched the end of the movie. The moment the credits rolled, Shadowhawk took her plate and empty coffee cup to the kitchen. When she returned, “I’d better get home.” Looking at Thomas, “You want to walk me out?”