Profiled (30 page)

“After you get a certain age, I guess everyone younger looks like a kid. You’re here to see my grandfather?”

“I came this morning to see him. Ms. Murrell called me at lunch, though, and told me you were coming this afternoon. Even told me what kind of car you drive, so I could watch for you. This time, I’m here to see you—and to apologize.”

“Apologize?” Lexie started walking across the parking lot with Jacob Zimmerman alongside. “What for?”

“Easter morning. Ms. Murrell said she kept meaning to ask me if I knew anything about where your grandfather went, and I hadn’t even realized they didn’t know he was with me. I should’ve made certain they knew, but I assumed he told them.”

“He talks to you? In sentences?”

“Not all the time, but yeah, sometimes. However, he gets my name confused. Or thinks I’m someone else.” He grinned. “That happens a lot with the folks I visit.”

“What does he call you?”

“Phillip.”

Lexie’s chest tightened, and her stomach tensed, but it stayed settled for now. “That’s my son. His great-grandson.”

“Ms. Murrell told me.”

“So where did you take him Easter morning?”

“I didn’t know where we were going at first. When I came by to visit him before church, he’d dressed in his suit. I asked where he was going, and he grabbed my hand, then led the way out of the house.”

“No one saw you leaving?”

“We went out the side entrance, the one that leads to the garden. At first I thought he wanted to go out by the pond and sit, like the other folks here often do, but he started toward the parking lot and pointed to my keys. I knew it was okay for the residents to leave, so I didn’t think it’d hurt to take him where he wanted to go.”

“So you took him.”

“Yeah. I thought he wanted to go to church, since it was Easter and all, and I thought it’d be nice to take him to the church he wanted to attend. As we started driving, he pointed down the streets where he wanted to go, or told me to turn. So I did.”

“And you didn’t go to a church?”

“No, but he did have a definite destination. It was kind of far, and that’s why we were gone so long, but I think it meant a lot to him.”

“Where did you go?” Curiosity made Lexie’s skin tingle.

“To a cemetery in Macon. He led me through the plots and we went straight to his wife’s grave, your grandmother’s grave, I assume. Then he showed me the three tombstones beside hers—the ones for his daughters.”

Lexie’s throat tightened. She couldn’t speak. She’d taken him there a few times, but she didn’t even realize he’d remember the way. And he’d wanted to see them on Easter, on the day the killer had murdered again. The same killer that put Aunt Bev in her grave.

“I just wanted to apologize in person for worrying you. Ms. Murrell said she kept meaning to ask me about it, but she never did, not until this morning, or I’d have told you before now. Anyway, I’ll try to keep you informed if he wants me to take him anywhere else. I do like visiting with your grandfather, by the way. He’s a very tenderhearted man. I could tell by the emotion he had when he visited their graves. He misses them.”

Lexie swallowed back the tears.

“Well, I’ve got a class this afternoon, so I better go. But I wanted to apologize and tell you how much I’ve enjoyed spending time with him.”

“Thank you.” She squeezed his hand. “I can’t tell you how much that means.”

She watched him leave then turned to enter the home.

As she’d told John and Angel, she visited with her grandfather, but instead of staying overnight, she remained for an hour. During that time, she made her grandfather a solemn promise—by tomorrow, the monster that destroyed their lives would be gone.

And then, with Nicholas Truman’s nod of agreement beckoning her forward, she returned to her car, returned to Macon and returned to the killer.

John and Angel kept their poker faces in place throughout the morning task force meeting, but by afternoon, after Lexie left to see her grandfather in Valdosta, they were busy preparing a welcome package for the killer. They met with Angel’s backup, Federal agents currently positioned strategically down the street and in the lobby of her hotel. They’d planned tonight’s arrest perfectly and were beyond ready.

All they needed was the killer.

Angel checked her Glock again, while John scoped out the parking lot from the bedroom window. Because this assignment was potentially long term, the department had splurged, putting her in a two room suite at the hotel. It’d felt expansive and roomy, until tonight. Right now, the two rooms felt as though they were closing in, smothering Angel and her baby.

She thought about the child growing inside of her and of how much her appreciation for life had increased over the past few weeks, since she learned she was now responsible for two lives. Yes, this baby made her the perfect candidate to serve as bait for a killer. But she couldn’t deny that there’d been a couple of times over the past few days that she’d felt the desire to do what every other blonde, single and pregnant female in Macon had evidently already done.

Protect her child and get far away from the killer.

But this man killed her mother and nearly took Angel’s life before it even began. And if she didn’t stop him, he’d kill more mothers—she swallowed, thought of her baby again—and he’d kill more babies.

Angel couldn’t let that happen.

But she’d also realized something else since learning about her baby. She wanted desperately to protect the child, but she couldn’t do it alone.

While John remained in the darkness of the bedroom scoping out the parking lot, Angel sat on the couch in the main room and closed her eyes.

It’s been years since I’ve talked to You, years since I felt I needed You.
She swallowed past the urge to cry. There was no time for tears tonight.
I blamed You for what happened to my mother, and I’ve never given You a chance to have control of my life.
She slid her eyes open, saw that John was still in the other room, then closed them again.
But I’m asking for You to take control now. I may have denied You, may not have wanted to think I need help to accomplish this goal, but there are more people involved now than just me. And I need You, I’m begging You, to help me keep my baby safe tonight. Let us stop this guy, and protect my baby too, God. Please. You know I’ve never been so scared as I am right now. And I am asking You to help me be strong and help me protect this baby.
She opened her eyes once more, took a deep breath, then slid them closed again.
And God, if we get through this night okay, help me to trust in You the way Lexie does. I’ve never had You in my life before, but I want You. I want peace. Watch over me tonight, and watch over my child. Amen.

“Something feels odd.” John’s voice echoed from the other room, and Angel was glad she had a moment to wipe away the tears that had, in fact, slipped free during her prayer.

“The hotel? I told you, it shouldn’t matter to him whether it is a house or a hotel. If he thinks that he is being led to do this by that Supreme One, then he’ll think he won’t find any obstacles to completing his plan.”

John stepped into the main room. They had all of the main lights out, with only the moonlight spilling in through the shades providing any illumination, but she could still see the hard planes of his face etched with undeniable concern. “I’m thinking something isn’t right. What if he wasn’t as drawn to you as a target as we hoped? What if another blonde, single and pregnant woman is somewhere in the city.”

“Do you really think they haven’t all left? With all of the warnings, not only from the media, but from their doctor?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. It just seems…”

“Too easy?”

“Maybe.”

“It means we’re prepared. Besides, we’ve got our backup outside.” She sure hoped that was the reason the setup felt off to John, because she also felt like something wasn’t right. Then again, it wasn’t midnight yet, so there wasn’t any chance of their killer striking here yet.

He looked at her sitting on the couch. “You always this calm?”

“I’m trained to be more calm as tension increases. Let’s just say the tension is at a fever pitch.” And she was glad she appeared calm. Inside, she was anything but.

He moved to the window, fingered the shades and looked out. “I’m still not certain your guys can watch this place and be discreet enough if our killer ends up being a cop.”

“They’re good. Haven’t lost a profiler yet.” She tried to put his concern at ease, but she’d wondered the same thing. This killer was sharp, methodical and strategic. He’d gotten away with this bizarre scenario for twenty-eight years. But Angel hoped his ego came back to haunt him this time. He undoubtedly thought that, with the Supreme One on his side, he was untouchable. And she hoped he showed up here tonight believing that.

And finding himself in the crosshairs.

John’s attention zeroed in on Angel’s hand, draped over the side of the couch, thrumming against the soft material. “You think something’s not right too, don’t you?”

Her confident smile slipped a fraction. “It’s gone too smoothly. I want to think it’s because we’ve done our job, but this guy is smart. And would a smart guy come after me now? But, if there is no other potential victim in Macon, and assuming he’s counted Macon as part of the rule scenario he’s developed, then it seems logical he’d have to come after me, right?” She wanted words of wisdom, of assurance.

John had none to offer. “How many serial killers have been known for their logic?”

“He’s not coming here, Tucker. I can feel it. But I truly believe I’m the only target left in town. He
has
to come.”

“Maybe he doesn’t believe you’re actually pregnant.”

“I have a file at Dr. Weatherly’s office that has me three months pregnant. And I’ve tossed my lunch every day, and anyone who has seen me running to the bathroom at the station knows I wasn’t faking that.”

“Maybe he hasn’t been at the station. Maybe he’s one of the guys that fits the profile, but he’s further from the case than we thought. There are others who fit the profile, you know.”

“Like?”

“Elijah Lewis, for one. That photographer has popped up in odd places several times in this investigation already. And I’m sure there are others close to the case in that type of capacity that we may not have considered closely enough.”

She knew he was grasping at straws, but she wasn’t going to point out the fact. “Elijah is the one who started the pregnancy rumor in the first place.”

“Still feels like something’s off.”

A sick feeling washed over Angel, and she didn’t think it was because she was about to toss her stomach. “What time is it?”

They’d been sitting in the dark since 9:00, and the time seemed to drone on like an eternity. “Five past midnight. It’s the day. You should move to the bedroom.”

She did, climbing beneath the covers while John disappeared in the darkest corner of the room and waited. They both sat silent in the darkness, neither knowing what to say. The day had come. The killer would strike
if
he found a target. What if all other females fitting the description hadn’t left town? What if he knew which one, or ones, stayed? What if he stood outside another person’s house right now and prepared to fulfill his goal, accomplish his mission, claim another mother and child?

God, be with us. Please.
Angel couldn’t believe she was turning to Him now, but then again, even through the years she’d denied Him, she’d believed He was there. She merely thought He didn’t care about her. But now she wanted Him to care, not only about her, but also about her baby.
Protect us.

“I’m glad Lexie’s safe,” John whispered into the night.

The ringing of Angel’s cell phone made her pulse triple.

“Answer it.” His blunt demand highlighted the intensity of his apprehension. “Hurry.”

She snatched the phone from the bedside table and wondered—hoped, prayed—that she was about to learn the killer had been caught. “Jackson.”

John watched as Angel grabbed at her phone. He held his breath and wondered if the caller on the other end was about to inform them that the killer had been caught. Was the nightmare already over?

“Etta?” Angel’s confusion was evident in her tone. Why would Etta be calling her now?

He took a step toward Angel. “Tell her you can’t talk.”

“Etta, I’ll get the recipe from you another time. No, Lexie had to go out of town. If she’s not answering your calls, she’s in a dead zone.” She paused. “You saw her when? No, I don’t think that’s possible.”

John’s back bristled. Where had Etta seen Lexie? And how could she have seen her if Lexie left this afternoon, right after she got off work?

The lighted display on Angel’s phone illuminated her face, and he saw her shock. “Etta, are you sure? Are you absolutely sure?”

He stared at Angel. Something
had
gone wrong and it had to do with Lexie.

“Yeah, do that. And we’ll get right over there.” Angel hung up the phone, grabbed her gun and raced for the door. “Come on!”