Don't Look Back (14 page)

“Plaster residue was found in the second grave,” Connor spoke up. Jamie looked up at him and he waved his phone. “The lab sent me a message. The dirt analysis is finished.”

She nodded absently and went back to the picture. Her fingers trembled, but she ignored them and examined her legs. Swollen and blue from the knee down, the right leg looked twice the size of the left. “Plaster. That’s rather passé these days. Most of the time fiberglass is used.” She took a deep breath. “He used drugs. They always made me sleepy . . . and made the pain go away for a bit.”

“Your tox screen showed Demorol and Tylox,” Samantha interjected.

“Right. Easy street drugs. He didn’t have to worry about anyone tracing them back to him.” She’d requested her medical information from the hospital about halfway through obtaining her degree. She’d read it from front to back. “Some of that time stands out in my mind so clear. And some of it’s just . . . fuzzy, bits and pieces that slip away if I try to focus on them too hard.”

George asked, “Can I have a look?”

Dakota slipped the bag out of Jamie’s fingers and passed it to George who let out a low whistle. “Whoa. I’ll . . . um . . . need to think about this one. That’s pretty far out there.”

“Tell me what kind of sick . . .” Dakota couldn’t even finish the sentence and Jamie reached out to grasp his hand.

George handed the box back to Dakota, who told him, “You think about it. I’d really like to know how someone could do this to another person and justify that it’s okay.”

“He thought he was helping me.” Jamie couldn’t believe she actually uttered the words. “In his sick, twisted, depraved mind, I honestly think he believed that.”

Samantha shuddered. “I’d like to help him – right into the depths of hell.”

“Sam . . .” Jamie reproved her sister, but understood where she was coming from.

Sam held up a hand. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. If not hell, then at least a high security mental hospital.”

Connor said, “All right, people, I guess we need to get this back to the lab to see if someone can get anything useful from it. Bomb squad’s gone, everyone’s back in the restaurant, and the press are driving me nuts. I can’t hold them back anymore, so unless one of you wants to be in the spotlight, I suggest we get out of here.”

As one, they turned and headed for the sidewalk that would take them back to the office. The media gave up trying to get statements from them and switched their focus to restaurant patrons who were more than willing to offer their insights on what all the excitement was about.

Jamie grabbed the two files she needed to study and decided she’d pass on the evening news tonight.

The Hero had watched the patrons filter back into the restaurant shaking their heads and wondering what was going on. Now, he climbed into his car, frowning to himself. He’d figured it was only a matter of time before Jamie visited that restaurant again and he’d had his little gift ready.

The only aggravating thing had been all the excitement the cops with her had generated. It made it difficult to get into a good position where he could see her, to watch her expressions and read her body language.

He wanted her to open it immediately, wanted to see her reaction as she took in the picture. But she’d been forewarned that the picture was “shocking,” they called it. “Ugly.” He thought it was beautiful. Some of his best work. His fingers curled around the steering wheel.

Well, no matter, she’d seen it. He frowned. But she hadn’t seemed that disturbed by it. Had she become that good at hiding her emotions? Had she lost her fear of him? The very threat of him? That wouldn’t do. Not at all.

Then he remembered the tremble in her fingers as she held the photo. No, she still thought of him. He’d made sure of that. He’d seen her reaction to the handcuffs dug from the grave.

But the picture didn’t seem to faze her. Why?

Maybe she needed another reminder. A reminder that he was waiting, but soon his patience would run out and she would once again belong to him.

13

Monday

Burying herself in work seemed to be one way to get her mind off her life and allow her to keep her eyes in front of her instead of constantly glancing over her shoulder. For the last three days, she had worked from dawn till dusk, breaking only for church on Sunday morning. Dakota had insisted and she hadn’t had the strength to resist him.

But she returned to the lab the minute she’d finished choking down a lunch she didn’t remember ordering. Even painting held no appeal right now.

She was really putting her security team – that is, Dakota, Connor, and Samantha – through it, but she just didn’t know what else to do with herself, and the work needed to be done.

Now it was Monday afternoon and she felt dizzy with fatigue. But the time had been well spent. She’d gone over the two older case files, taking copious notes and paying attention to the smallest detail.

Several things stood out. The bodies had been found within a week of each other. The ME’s report stated that one had been dead for about three years, the other a week. Both had been found in shallow graves. Both had their throats cut.

And both had been buried with handcuffs that had their first names engraved on the edge. Sandra and Olivia.

The forensics lab still had the cuffs that had come in with her two bodies. Were their names engraved on the edges?

She picked up the phone and dialed Mark’s number. “’Lo?”

“Hi, Mark, it’s Jamie.”

“What can I do for you, lovely lady?”

Ignoring the lovely lady part, she said, “I need you to look at those handcuffs you’ve got and tell me if anything is engraved on the edges.”

“Aw, Jamie, I’m so backed up . . .”

“This is really important, Mark,” she practically yelled at him. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she said softy, “Please, I just need to know if there’s anything engraved. It’ll help me identify the bodies.”

“All right, give me a couple of hours and I’ll get back to you.”

“Thanks, I owe you.”

“I’ll collect.”

“Tickets to the opening Panthers game?” Samantha and Connor had season tickets. Jamie would weasel a pair out of them. They missed most of the games anyway, and Jamie usually ended up going with Jenna.

“That’ll work.”

She hung up, thinking about what she knew. Those poor women. She had no doubt that the four women had been killed by the same man who’d snatched her so long ago.

The same man who might be stalking her even as she worked. Jamie shuddered. Lately, Samantha had picked her up at the end of the day and stayed with her all night long. Each night, with Samantha in the room across the hall, Jamie fell into bed so exhausted she didn’t dream, didn’t move, didn’t think. Each morning she woke feeling like she’d never slept.

Dakota and Connor spent their days searching for the man who’d left the package at the restaurant. So far, nothing had turned up.

A knock on her door brought her head up from the bone she’d been documenting.

Lila stuck her head in. “Jazz just sent this stuff. I think you’ve got a hit on one of the girls. The first one you dug up, I believe.”

“Great. Who?”

“Simone Haliday.” Lila slipped two pictures from the file she carried and walked them over to Jamie.

Jamie took them and observed, “Simone. A pretty name. Very fancy.”

“Comes from a fancy family. Her father is some big-shot financial broker downtown. Her mother recognized the shirt. She said they bought it together for Simone’s birthday in 2005.”

Jamie stared down at the photo. A picture of a vibrant young woman, sitting on the side of a boat in the middle of a lake, head thrown back and laughing.

The next picture was more formal. A school picture. Reddish blonde hair curled around a heart-shaped face and blue eyes.

Lila cut in on her thoughts. “She’s beautiful.”

“Yes.” Jamie shook her head over the loss of such potential, a young woman’s life stolen from her. Anger gripped her at the injustice of it.

Lila sighed. “Her mother said she was wearing the blouse the day she disappeared.”

Jamie handed the photos back and stared down at the one who’d been identified. Simone. “All right. Do they have any DNA of hers left? I’ve extracted the mitochondrial DNA from the bone, but I need something to match it up with.”

“I thought you might. Her mom said she had several baby teeth that she’d saved.”

“One will do it.”

A light whistle permeated the air and Jamie felt the fatigue of the last three days suddenly lift.

Dakota.

He rounded the edge of the door and entered the lab, stopping short at the sight of the two women. “Oh, sorry to interrupt.”

“It’s all right.” Jamie waved a hand to Simone’s skeleton. “Jazz managed to come up with a possible identification for one of the skeletons. Connor did a nice job tracking down the right family. Once we compare the DNA, we’ll know for sure.”

“Good.” He shook his head. “It’s such a shame.”

Jamie bit her lip. “I know.” Pasting a smile on her face, she asked, “What are you doing here? Can I help you with something?” “Apparently examining your package wasn’t on the priority list. I came by to see what was taking so long and stood there while the tech guy finally managed to lift a print off the ribbon on the box. We’re running it through AFIS now and if we get a hit, we’ll know who left you that nice little package.” AFIS, the Automated Fingerprinting Identification System, was fast and reliable. Once the information was entered into it.

“That shouldn’t take long.”

“Nope, I expect to hear something any minute now.”

“Is that why you’re hanging around here? So you can pass the info on to me as soon as you get it?” The crime lab was on Howard Street, located off Asheville Highway, a couple of miles from the hospital.

“That and other reasons.” His eyes twinkled at her and she felt the flush rise up in her cheeks.

She cleared her throat. “So . . .”

His phone rang and Jamie nearly puddled to the floor in relief. Then frustration seized her. Would she ever be able to flirt like a normal person? Have a normal, intimate relationship with a man chosen by God just for her?

Scared of the answer, yet desperate for it too, she vowed to do her best to conquer that particular fear. She watched Dakota pace and talk as she walked into her office and filed a bone inventory sheet on Simone. She’d already started to think of her that way since she felt sure the DNA test would only confirm what she knew in her gut.

“Hey, Jamie.”

The paper nestled where it belonged, she turned to find Samantha in the doorway sipping on a can of Coke. “Hey? What are you doing here? This place is turning into Grand Central.”

Samantha sauntered in and perched on the side of Jamie’s desk. “I’ve got some time on my hands so I decided to come see how things were coming on the bones.”

While Jamie filled her in, Samantha’s eyes shifted to the picture on the desk, then the mirror on the wall. “Are you listening?” Blue eyes snapped back to Jamie’s. “Huh? Yeah. Yeah.”

“What’s wrong?”

Sam stood and paced. “Nothing. Maybe. Something. I don’t know.”

Jamie leaned against the cabinet and crossed her arms. “Spill it.”

A sigh blew out of her sister’s mouth. “Something’s going on with our parents.”

Okay, she hadn’t expected that one. “What?”

“I think they’re avoiding me.”

Jamie huffed. “Samantha Cash Wolfe, that’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve said in a long time. Why would they avoid you?”

Samantha tossed her hands in the air. “I don’t know! It’s been going on for about three weeks now. I call and no one answers. I go over and suddenly they’re rushing around saying they have to be somewhere: the church, their exercise class, they’re meeting someone for lunch. I haven’t been able to have a decent conversation with either of them since . . . forever.”

“But you talked to Mom the other night. She called while you were in the bathroom, remember?”

“Because I left a ranting message that it could be life or death and someone had better call me back! Within two minutes my phone rang. They’re screening their calls. What is up with that?”

Concerned because Samantha actually seemed to be making some sense, Jamie thought about the last time she’d talked to either one of her parents. It had been a while. She’d left messages and not thought any more about it.

But she hadn’t gone over to the house because she’d wondered if she was being watched. She’d been afraid if she went to her parents’ house,
he
would follow her. But come to think of it, her parents hadn’t bothered to call her back in quite some time.

“Weird.”

“What?” Samantha stopped pacing.

“You’re right. That is weird. Your birthday’s coming up and Mom usually has everything all planned out by now.”

Samantha blinked. “Oh, you’re right. I’d forgotten about my birthday.”

Dakota popped his Stetson-covered head in the door. “Connor forgot your birthday? Want me to beat him up for you?”

“No, silly.
I’d
forgotten.”

“Oh, your own birthday? You’re weird.”

Jamie rolled her eyes. “Dakota . . .”