When a Heart Stops (18 page)

“You don't get any better than a missing kid to stir things up,” Katie agreed. “And the timing of everything just fell right into this guy's plans. I hate it when that happens.”

The stairwell opened once more and again, the killer pulled out his newspaper and casually leaned against the wall. The cop shifted, glanced down the hall, didn't see anything amiss, and resumed his bored stance.

Hunter said, “Kid's in the stairwell. The door's heavy enough there's no way he could open it.”

“Wouldn't someone hear him crying?” Dominic asked.

“Not if he was having a good time playing on the steps,” Katie
said. “And besides, this hall's basically empty. Who's around to hear him except the cop?”

A harried woman appeared from the end room and looked both ways, up and down the hall, like she was getting ready to cross the street.

When she didn't see her child, fear flashed across her features. Then she searched the hall, talked to the cop, stopped a nurse, then was back to the cop who spoke into his radio. And then it picked up where they started earlier.

“Look, he comes back to his post after he finds the kid, then goes back into the stairwell.”

“He suspected something and went to look.”

“Should've called it in.”

“The killer was still there and caught him by surprise?” Dominic asked.

Colton nodded. “Looks like it.”

Dominic sighed. “Well, we know what happened, we just don't have a clue who did it.”

Colton shook his head. “This dude is smooth.”

“All right.” Dominic looked away from the screen and into Colton's always shuttered eyes. Then he let his gaze bounce from Hunter to Katie back to Colton. “I want to see video of all of the entrances and parking lots
now
. This killer's made this highly personal when it comes to targeting Serena. I want to know which door he came in, where he parked, everything.”

“We're on that. And yes, Serena needs protection.” Colton's flat statement said he caught on quick.

“I can talk to my boss and the local chief of police, but you and I both know what they're going to say,” Hunter said.

Colton nodded. “No money, no manpower.”

“I'll talk to my boss too,” Dominic said. “Because of Serena's father, he may be able to pull a few strings and get some extra coverage.”

Colton grunted. “I know her father. He and my uncle Frank are going head-to-head in this election coming up.”

“Is working this case going to be a conflict of interest?” Dominic asked.

“No way,” Colton snorted. “I have no use for politics. This is my job. Serena's a great girl, she doesn't deserve this.”

“I'll be glad to do whatever you need,” Hunter volunteered. “Alexia won't have a problem with that, considering what she just went through a few weeks ago.”

Colton said, “I can help.”

Katie tightened her lips and Dominic raised his brow at her. She rolled her eyes. “All right, I can donate a few hours. I mean, it's not like I have a life or anything.”

“Thank you.” Dominic didn't worry about Katie. She had a wicked wit and spoke mostly in sarcastic phrases, but she was professional and would do the job to the best of her ability.

Even if it meant taking a bullet for someone.

“All right, folks, let's catch us a killer before he strikes again.” Dominic turned and walked back into the hall.

Serena paced from one end to the other, head bowed, deep in thought. She startled as Dominic stepped in front of her, grasped her upper arms, and pulled her to a stop.

She let him, looked into his eyes, and said, “Okay, we're targets, no doubt about it.”

Dominic tapped his chin. “I agree—to a point. Or he's being really smart and just wants us to think we're targets.”

She frowned. “That doesn't make sense. What does that gain him?”

“I have no idea. It's just a thought.”

She considered that. “If we're targets, and I think we've established that, what kind of police protection can we expect?”

Dominic grimaced. “I was just discussing this with some of the team and here's the deal. About you, not me. The sheriff could put a protective detail on you for the short term, but I hate to break it to you, no one has the manpower or the money for a long-term deal.”

“I see. So I'm pretty much on my own.”

Shivers rippled through her when he reached over to grasp her fingers. “Hey, no way you're on your own. I told you I was just discussing this. Whatever the sheriff can't cover . . . well . . . let's just say I've got friends.” He snorted. “And trust me, after that ‘gift' left on my property, I've asked a few to watch my back for me.”

Serena bit her lip. “That's good to know.” She firmed her jaw. “Maybe it's nothing. Maybe he's just taunting us, telling us that we can't catch him. Like this is all part of his stupid game.”

Dominic's brows pulled together at the bridge of his nose. “Maybe.” His expression said he didn't think so.

“So why is he picking on
us
? Why is he making this so personal?”

“What if it just happened to be you and me? What if it's not us per se? What if we're now targets because we're the ones who're working Leslie's case?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, maybe he was watching to see who found her. Watching to see who responded to the call. And it happened to be you on the time clock.”

Serena wrinkled her nose. “So I'm just lucky. Is that what you're saying?”

“Maybe. Who knows? It's just a theory and probably not even a good one.”

“Well, until we have a better one, I'd say let's work with that one.”

“Then again, the note pretty much makes it clear that this guy thinks you belong to him.”

Serena shivered. “I know.”

Even Dominic's warm hand covering hers couldn't chase the chill of terror invading her.

Serena's house was lovely. The killer stood in the den and looked right . . . then left. Where to start? Golden green eyes peered around the edge of the recliner, causing the killer to jump. Heart pounding, a little laugh escaped. “Hello, kitty. Not much of an attack cat, are you?”

The dog, Yoda, sniffed the gloved hand and decided she'd found a new best friend. Serena should have chosen her pets more wisely. But then she had no reason to.

The instructions had been clear.

Get the information before getting rid of Serena.

But that had been much harder to do than originally thought. The woman didn't scare easily. And with her schedule so wacky, getting inside and feeling comfortable that Serena wouldn't be coming home anytime soon was impossible.

The killer sighed and ran a gloved hand over the mantel, looking at the pictures of the perfect family.

Resentment swelled.

The perfect family didn't exist. At least not the one that—

“Stop it.”

Saying the words aloud derailed those unpleasant thoughts.

“Get back to it. Find the package and get out.”

But before the search could begin, the front door slammed and the alarm blared.

THURSDAY, 10:45 P.M.

Serena stood at the sink in the morgue and watched John Doe's blood swirl down the drain. The clank of Dorie's cleaning cart passing her door registered at the edge of her thoughts. She'd texted Camille an hour ago, but she still hadn't heard from the girl.

Worry niggled at her.

Why wouldn't the girl text her back? Was her phone dead? Serena had paid the bill for two months' worth of time, so an unpaid bill wasn't an issue. Plus, the phone rang four times before going to voice mail. If it had been turned off or had a dead battery, it would go straight to voice mail.

The phone was on and working.

But was it in Camille's possession?

She glanced at the clock. There was something to be said for being too wound up to think about going home and sleeping. At least she could take the day off tomorrow. Have a long weekend. Take the boat out on the lake.

Quit stalling, she ordered herself.

She needed to call her parents. Her father was going to flip. Her mother would probably cry and beg Serena to move home so she could live behind their gated security walls.

It was tempting.

No, she couldn't call yet. She needed to be stronger, prepare herself more for their reaction.

Then again, there was a serial killer out there with a bead on Serena—and maybe those she loved.

She had to push past her own silly issues and call.

After peeling the blue gloves off and trashing them in the red biohazard bin, she grabbed her cell phone from her pocket and hit the speed dial.

Serena's father answered on the third ring. “Serena, love, so glad to hear from you. It's been awhile.”

She grimaced at his tone. Gentle enough, but with subtle undertones of disapproval. “How's Mom?”

“Wondering when she's going to get to spend some time with her daughter.”

Right.

“Dad, I have something I need to tell you.”

A pause. Then a cautious, “All right.”

Serena lifted a brow. He sounded awfully calm. “I need you to be aware that I may . . .” How in the world did she put this? Just say it. “I may have a serial killer targeting me.”

Another pause. Then, “What! I don't think I heard you right because I thought you said you had a serial killer targeting you, but that can't possibly be what you said.”

There he was. The dad she knew and loved. She almost smiled.

Before she could respond, he said, “Are you talking about the one that's all over the news? The one killing these young women?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, hold on a minute while I try to breathe.” She heard him take a deep breath. “Explain yourself, please.”

She filled him in, starting with the first 9-1-1 call to finding Leslie in the park to the latest death of the man who had broken into her house.

For a moment, her father didn't say a word. Then, “Pack your bags. I want you here where we have a state-of-the-art security system. I'll hire a bodyguard.”

“Dad, you can't afford a bodyguard,” she reminded him softly.

He went silent. “I'll take out loans, I'll mortgage the house. Whatever it takes. I want you safe.”

Her father was running for the senate seat. What most people weren't aware of—yet—was due to a few bad investments over the last couple of years, her father was now about to lose everything.

“I have a friend, an FBI agent, who is working to keep me safe. I'm not moving in with you and Mom because if I do, it may draw his attention to you. And I absolutely won't do that.”

“Serena—”

“Dad, don't you understand? I simply can't do that. Please take precautions to protect yourself and Mom. I'm doing the same.”

For a moment he didn't speak. Then he said, “I have friends in high places. I'll see what I can do about having someone on your house and at work 24/7.”

This was exactly why she hadn't wanted to call him. He would take over, think he could control everything. She clamped down on her tongue and tried to understand the situation from his point of view. He was worried. Had every right to be worried.

She asked, “How's the financial situation?”

He sighed. “We're hanging in there. I've taken on a couple of extra cases, putting in some long hours, some weekends, but we're doing all right.”

“And the donations for the campaign?”

“That's the good news. Those are rolling in pretty steady.”

Relief swept over her. “Let me know if there's anything I can do to help.”

“Just concentrate on staying out of this killer's path.” He paused again. “I've had a hard time watching you grow up, Ser, but I suppose I have to admit . . . you are grown. I want to demand that
you get yourself over here and stop playing around, but after the humbling experience of borrowing money from my daughter—”

“That was a gift, Dad.”

“
Borrowing
money from my daughter, I've lost a little of my arrogant attitude.”

“Good,” she smiled into the phone, “you needed to.”

“Humph. If it wasn't for your mother . . . so anyway, I'm not going to make any demands or make you feel guilty for not locking yourself away here at the house.” His voice lowered. “But please, please, be careful and listen to your FBI friend. Do exactly what he tells you to do when it comes to security. If something happened to you . . .”

Wow. Did she hear tears in his voice?

“I promise, Dad. I love you.”

“Love you too, darling.”

After she hung up, the conversation swirled through her brain. Her father, the know-it-all, arrogant criminal lawyer who'd faced death threats and turned down bribes, had been brought to tears over her safety. She wasn't quite sure what to think. She knew her dad loved her, she'd never really doubted that, but . . . well, wow. This was a side she'd never seen before.

One that would take a little more processing than she could handle right now.

Her phone buzzed and she glanced at the ID. Dominic.

“Hello?”

“Are you ready to go home?” his deep voice rumbled in her ear.

“Almost. Where are you?”

“Turn around.”

She did. Dominic stood at the opposite end of the room, the phone pressed against his ear. She hung up. “You're silly.”

“Sometimes. Not very often.” He walked toward her.

True enough.

“It's late,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

He reached up and pressed a hand to her cheek, then ran a finger down it. “Making sure you get home safely.”

Warmth flooded her. Along with relief. Before he could see how his touch affected her, she turned on the pretense of putting away the last of her instruments. “I was going to ask security to walk me out to my car.”

“But who would make sure you got inside your house without any problems?”

“Hmm . . . good question.” She slipped her lab coat off and tossed it into the bin to be washed. “I'm ready.”

Serena followed him down the hall and out the back entrance to the employee parking lot. She found her rental. A blue Chevy SUV. Just what she'd asked for. Serena didn't like small vehicles, especially if Yoda decided she wanted to come along.

“I'll follow you,” he said.

Once in the rental, she adjusted the rearview mirror and the seat. Looking behind her she saw Dominic's headlights.

Grateful for his attention to her safety, she drove home, her mind racing. Just as she pulled onto her street, her phone buzzed. She answered, “Hello?”

“This is ADT security, we have an alert at 104 Bennett Drive. We need to speak to Serena Hopkins.”

“This is she. An alert? My alarm's going off?” Her heart thudded and fear spiraled through her.

“Yes, ma'am, could we have your password, please?”

“It's . . . Yoda.”

“Thank you. Officers are on the way to the address.”

Serena parked in her driveway, phone still pressed to her ear as her alarm blared. Her neighbor across the street stepped out onto his porch, a frown on his face.

She opened the garage door and waited for Dominic to pull in beside her. She saw realization cross his face as he got out of the
car and drew his weapon from his shoulder holster. She started to follow, but he turned and said, “Stay back.”

“You need the code. It's 2582.”

He nodded. “Now get in your car and lock the doors.”

“Be careful.”

Three city police cars pulled up to the curb. The officers got out of their vehicles.

One approached Serena, hand on her weapon. The other pulled his gun as his gaze landed on Dominic who had his weapon in one hand and ID in the other.

The officer relaxed at the sight of the FBI badge.

Dominic said, “Cover the rear.” He looked at the first male officer. “You come with me to clear the house. Serena, you wait in the car with the door locked.” He glanced at the third officer.

The woman nodded before he had a chance to say anything. “I'll stay with her.”

The men entered the garage and then disappeared into the house. The alarm went silent.

The officer who'd stayed behind with Serena pulled her to the police car and opened the passenger door. “Let's just wait out here until we know everything's all right. If anything starts, I don't want you caught in the crossfire.” Serena looked at the pretty female officer whose badge read “Hudson.”

“What happened?” Officer Hudson asked even as her gaze darted toward the front of Serena's house. No doubt, she was worried about her partner.

“I got a call from the security company that my alarm was set off.” She watched her neighbor head her way and wondered if he'd seen anything.

Officer Hudson said, “So you just got home.”

“Right.”

Mr. Randall Barnard walked up to the police car.

Serena said, “I'm so sorry, Mr. Barnard.”

“No problem.” The older, graying man scratched at his five o'clock shadow. “I was just worried about you. Everything all right here?”

“I'm not sure. It looks like someone tried to break into my house.”

“Might have been that scraggly teenager I saw hanging out around here earlier today.”

Some of her fear faded. “Scraggly teen?”

“Yeah. Skinny little thing. I heard the alarm go off and saw her take off running across your front yard.”

Camille. It had to be.

But what had the girl been doing trying to get into Serena's house?

The officer and Dominic came out the front door. Serena's heart filled with relief at their safety.

Dominic waved them in. “It's all clear.” He no longer held his weapon.

Serena looked at Mr. Barnard. “Thanks for your help.”

He headed back toward his house with an “anytime” tossed over his shoulder. Serena and Officer Hudson approached the men. Dominic led them back inside and Serena filled them in on what Mr. Barnard said about a “scraggly teen.”

He promptly called in an Attempt To Locate with Mr. Barnard's description.

Yoda padded in to greet her, her tongue coming out for a quick swipe of her hand. She scratched her ears, then watched her turn and head out through her doggie door to the backyard.

Dominic said, “You need a better watchdog.”

“That's not why I got her,” Serena said, defending her beloved pet. She looked around her house, the kitchen, into the den, and out into the glassed-in porch area.

Something niggled at her. She frowned and looked back toward the kitchen, then gave the den another sweep with her eyes.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I'm not sure. Something just feels . . . off.”

“Off? Could you be a little more specific?”

“Just . . .” Her eyes landed on the sofa. “The afghan's thrown over the wrong end of the couch.”

The officers exchanged a glance as Dominic lifted a brow. She flushed. “I know. It sounds crazy, but I always stretch out with my feet at that end. So I keep the afghan on the same end to make it easy just to pull up.” She waved a hand. “Trust me, when I left this morning, that afghan was on the other end of the couch.”

Dominic reached up and rubbed his chin, his eyes thoughtful. “Anything else seem off?”

Serena walked back into the kitchen, her eyes scanning the area. “No, I don't guess so.” But her gaze kept going to the sink. She stepped over to it. “Yes, I left a mug in here this morning and now it's gone.”

This time he frowned. “Look in your dishwasher.”

She opened it and saw the mug. “Well . . . how'd that get in there?” Shutting the dishwasher, she simply stared at Dominic and the officers. “This is totally weird. I don't understand. Why would someone come in my house and move things around?”

Officer Hudson's radio crackled. She listened, then said, “We have another call. If everything's all right here, we'll leave you to it.”

Serena blinked and gave an absent nod. “Yes, fine. Thanks for your response.”

“Anytime, ma'am.”

The three officers left and Dominic looked at her alarm panel. “This time the person tripped your alarm. Just out of curiosity, who has your code?”

“Just Alexia and Hunter.”

“What about your parents?”

She blinked. “Oh. Yes, they have it. But none of those people would give it out to anyone. They would have no reason to. And now you know it.”

“And now you're going to change it once again.”

She walked over to the panel and punched the sequence of buttons that would allow her to change the code.

Dominic said, “I think the question we're not asking here is, What do you have that someone wants?”

Serena jerked. “What?”

“It's the only thing I can come up with. Someone is determined to get in your house. For what reason? It's either to hurt you or get something you have. You said that when you woke up, the intruder, who had ample opportunity to shoot you while you slept, was looking for something.”