“That’s twenty miles from Church Hill.”
“The vet had no other information. He did say his client is keeping the cat unless someone claims it. I have her name and number if you want to talk to her.”
“Okay.”
“I also received several more security videos of Erika’s house. I’ve been watching them for the last couple of hours. Brad Crowley last appeared on tape five days ago.”
“Five days. Erika vanished on Saturday. Did any of the neighbors make a comment about seeing him?”
“A few did. He came and went from the home several times a day, even during a normal workweek. Apparently, he liked to have lunch at home.”
“And Erika?”
“She doesn’t leave the house much. Just as her husband said, she travels to her yoga studio two mornings a week and that’s about it. Groceries and most clothing are delivered. She tells everyone she’s an artist and is working in her home studio.”
“So either she’s agoraphobic or she was a virtual prisoner in her home.”
The sun had set when he looked through the cab window to the tarp wrapped around Erika’s body in the bed of his truck. It was hidden under random debris so it wasn’t visible, though soon it would smell. He’d killed her in a spontaneous moment that he now regretted. He should have left her in her cell to rot.
He could have buried Erika. There were plenty of places he could put her where she’d never be found. But he didn’t want her death to be a waste. He wanted her found. Displayed. Erika would help send a message to Kaitlin. You’re next.
He started the engine and drove toward the city. The truck bed rattled, but Erika’s body was nice and snug.
As he drove toward the heart of Richmond on the expressway, police lights flashed in his rearview mirror and he tensed, gripping the wheel until his knuckles whitened. He was driving the speed limit. He’d used a turn signal when crossing lanes. What the hell?
The cop car hit his siren, a sure sign he had to pull over. Tension crept up his spine. His breathing grew shallow as he glanced in the mirror again and then back at the road.
He could stomp on the gas and make a run for it. But that wouldn’t end well. Better to stay calm and play along. He could fool anybody.
“I can do this,” he said to himself. “I can do this.” He repeated the words like a mantra until the stress eased.
He turned on his blinker and pulled off on the shoulder of the road. He reached for his driver’s license and registration. He rolled down his window and placed his hands on the steering wheel.
The cop got out of his car and moved toward the truck. He touched the tailgate to leave fingerprints, proof he had made contact if it all went sour, and then he walked up slowly along the truck.
“Good evening,” the officer said.
“Yes, sir. Good evening. Was I speeding?”
“No, sir, but your back taillight is out.”
“Really? I had no idea.” He handed the officer his driver’s license and registration. “Figured you need these.”
“I’ll be right back.”
He glanced in the rearview mirror and watched the cop return to his vehicle and type his plates into his computer. The cop would search his record for warrants and other traffic violations, and he’d find only a fourteen-year-old speeding ticket. He was the good boy. Just play it cool.
For a brief moment he imagined the plastic tarp moved in the breeze. He blinked and watched closely in the rearview mirror, his heart beating faster, as he waited for the wind to calm.
The cop came back to the car. “Looks like you have a pretty clean driving record.”
He smiled. “I do try.”
“I’m going to have to give you a ticket. But if you get pulled over again in the next forty-eight hours, show them this. You need to get the light fixed for your own safety.”
“I was working on the damn thing last week. There must be a short in the wires. I’ll take it to a garage first thing.”
The officer stared at him an extra beat and then handed him the ticket. He signed it and handed it back.
The officer ripped off his portion of the ticket. “Have a nice evening.”
“Will do. Thank you, Officer.”
He sat still, not moving for a moment. Jesus, that cop was less than a foot from the body. He’d come so close to capture.
But he hadn’t been caught. He was getting better at this, and if he were real careful, he’d never be caught.
Drawing in a breath, he waited for the all clear and pulled into traffic. Time to dump the body.
He drove to the Shockoe Bottom section of Richmond and located the alley he had already searched for surveillance cameras. It was one block from Kaitlin’s apartment.
Moving quickly, he backed into the alley and cut the lights. Tugging a ball cap over his eyes, he opened the back tailgate, reached under the tarp, and grabbed Erika’s ankles. Her skin was cold to the touch, but the rigor mortis had left her limbs, and she was again pliable.
He pulled her forward and carried her limp body to the end of the alley. Quickly he leaned her against the dumpster. He brushed the hair back from her eyes and smoothed it over her shoulders. He spread her legs and placed each hand on an inner thigh.
Pulling a red marker from his pocket, he drew a heart on her chest. “This is for you, Gina,” he whispered.
It was after visitor’s hours when there was a knock on Kaitlin’s door. She was surfing the television channels to pass the time. “Time for another lab sample?” She resigned herself to another procedure.
Instead of the young nurse with glasses and brown hair, Adler appeared. His tie was loose, and the stubble on his jaw was thick. “Sorry, no nurse.”
“Too bad.” Stupid, but she was glad to see him. “It’s always a treat to have a nurse jab a needle in my arm. What are you doing here?”
He held up a bag.
“Sorbet, again?” Beware of cops bearing gifts.
“Doughnuts. Cops know where to get the best ones in the city.”
“Is it true?” She grinned.
“It is.” The half smile was charming, and if Adler wasn’t a cop, she might have been charmed.
“As it so happens, I’m now on some solid foods.”
“Then you’re in luck.”
He pulled up his chair and handed her a napkin. He glanced in the bag. “Chocolate glazed or plain?”
“Plain. Let’s keep it simple.”
With a napkin he plucked out a plain one and handed it to her. Its aroma made her mouth water. She bit into it. Adler was batting two for two with her so far.
She took another bite before she asked, “So what’re you really here for? Feeding me isn’t a priority. You look like a man with questions.”
He tossed her a sideways glance meant to disarm. “Am I that obvious?”
She chuckled and felt charmed nonetheless. “You use that look with suspects?”
“I do.” He bit into the doughnut with no air of repentance or worry about calories. “I met with a forensic investigator who is analyzing several notes Jennifer received.”
She pulled off a piece. “And?”
“Without getting into too much detail, I can tell you he signed each one with a heart. Does that mean anything to you?”
Kaitlin set her doughnut down as a memory rushed out from the past. If the killer had left a heart, he’d definitely been involved in the search for Gina. She reached for a pad and pen on her nightstand and drew a particular heart she’d seen many times. “When Gina was first missing, the volunteer groups developed a kind of logo. It was Gina’s name with a heart drawn over top of it.”
“Who came up with the logo?”
She handed him the paper. “It was my idea to add it to the flyer, because she loved hearts. She had several necklaces that were heart shaped.”
“It was your idea?”
“Yeah.”
“The heart symbol was well known?”
“Yes. All the volunteer post
ers and flyers had it, and several news organizations came up with graphics that incorporated it. It would have been hard to miss.”
“A colleague of mine is reading the file, but our focus has been on the abduction and not the search. How many volunteers were on the search teams?”
“Hundreds. There was an organized system, and in that group there were teams of ten. Volunteers stood side by side and walked open fields and brush for hours searching for clues. There were also people who weren’t sanctioned as official searchers, and they ventured out on their own.”
“Have you spoken to any of those volunteers?”
“George Dunkin. He’s on a canine tracking team who volunteered over a hundred hours on the search.”
“You gave me Jennifer’s tape, but I need all of them, Kaitlin.”
“Sure. I’ll send them all.”
“Can you do it now?”
“Hand me my laptop.”
He dusted off his crumbs, tossing the half-eaten doughnut in the trash. He retrieved the laptop from the side table and gently set it on her lap. She opened it, pushed a few buttons, and hit “Send.”