Cut and Run (Criminal Profiler 2)

“I never been out there, but yeah, I knew what he was doing out there. But that was a long time ago. He hasn’t done anything like that since.”

“But he kept the ranch. All these years and he held on to it. Why?”

“I don’t know why he kept it. He never told me. All I know is that Garnet has gotten jumpy in the last few months. I’ve never seen him like this before.”

“If he’d been smart, he’d have let sleeping dogs lie. The past had been dead and buried until he dug it up.” To remind her that she was living at his pleasure now, he lightly drew the tip of the knife over her cheek again. “You were around the first time he sold babies, weren’t you?”

She swallowed, her gaze locked on his face. “Yeah. I was around.”

“Did you help kill those girls?”

Panic flared in her eyes. “We didn’t kill any of those girls. They all got paid for their time and were sent on their way.”

“How do you know that?”

“He told me.”

How easily people accepted a lie over a painful truth. “You’re a smart girl, Heather. Do you really think that’s what happened?”

She paled, as if facts she did not want to acknowledge had smacked her in the face. “He didn’t kill anybody.”

He wasn’t here to debate this point. “That’s neither here nor there. The bottom line is that Garnet is blackmailing a client of mine. He’s got evidence that can prove what went on at that ranch.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“You notice things. Did he give you any hints about where he could have put any evidence?”

“What kind of evidence?”

“The kind that could upset a lot of lives if it came to light. Why has he started returning to the ranch?”

“What?”

“I have a tracker on his car. Why has he begun going back out to the ranch?” He’d been watching Garnet come and go from the ranch for a couple of weeks, but he’d not investigated, fearful a search of the house would tip off Garnet, who would then expose the evidence.

“I didn’t know that he was,” Heather said. “Only that he was gone more and more.”

“Really? I saw a poster of a missing pregnant girl in his bar. Did he have anything to do with her disappearance?”

“Why would he do that? She was already pregnant when she came into the bar.”

Ah, more layers to the puzzle. “Why is that important?”

She hesitated, knowing not telling would cost her more now than telling. “The others weren’t pregnant when they were handpicked. They were selected.”

“To make babies?”

“I don’t know. And I don’t know anything about a new girl.”

“It would explain why he’s going out to the ranch, wouldn’t it?”

“I swear he hasn’t told me anything,” Heather said.

A new girl made sense. Her baby would represent revenue flow, and Garnet was now in short supply of money since his last arrangement had ended. He had to pay those gambling debts somehow.

“Look, Garnet is older and more paranoid. He’s always been worried about the cops. And then that woman came in the bar asking about Crow. She said her father had been a friend of Garnet’s, but her visit freaked Garnet out.”

The discovery of the graves wasn’t a real issue. All DNA evidence on the property would have led to Garnet. And if anyone had found the new girl on the property, there’d have been a mention in the news by now. And even if the cop had the girl under wraps, whatever DNA she was carrying in her belly wouldn’t trace back. Still, he was left with the problem of finding whatever evidence Garnet was holding against his client. “How long have you been with Garnet?”

“Thirty-two years.”

“That’s a long time.”

“He loves me.”

Maybe Garnet had some affection for dear sweet Heather, but he’d bet she was as disposable as the girls on the ranch.

“I swear I don’t know anything, mister.”

He loosened his hold on her hair. “I do believe you, Heather. But here is a truth, Heather. Garnet is using you just like he used those other murdered girls.”

“He’s not using me.”

“Heather, you’re smarter than this, I hope.”

“Please, let me—”

Before she could finish the sentence, he burrowed the blade quickly into the side of her neck several times until he had opened a big hole in her jugular. Even a surgeon couldn’t save her now.

As the air gurgled in her throat, she grappled with the door handle, and to her credit she was able to get it open. Killing Crow at his place had been easy. Not as fruitful as he’d hoped, but easy. Running over Macy had been an impulse and poorly planned. He’d gotten the job done, but he’d taken too many risks. The knife was the best way to finish the task. Blades were far harder to trace than bullets.

But he’d not found Garnet’s smoking gun, and until he did, he had to tread carefully.

He got out of the back seat and watched as she stumbled to her feet and staggered forward. He reached over and popped the trunk, walked around to it, and retrieved the gas can.

Heather stood still under the underpass. She wavered from side to side and then fell to her knees, grasping her throat. She rose up, her throat gurgling, and tried to crawl. Blood traced her path from the car to the spot where she fell.

He followed at a slow and steady pace, and when she collapsed, he came up beside her, set the can down, and gently rolled her onto her back. Unable to resist her plump, still-pink flesh, he gripped his knife and stabbed her arms, chest, and thighs. He loved the sensation of the knife piercing the flesh. Finally, he wiped the blade on her shirt and, pulling a cloth from his coat pocket, wiped his hands.

He stayed by her and waited another five minutes, listening to his heartbeat blend with the cars rushing above on the overpass. When his own breathing stilled, he checked her pulse and found none.

He brushed her hair out of her eyes and opened her shirt slightly so the knife wounds were visible. He removed a playing card. The queen of hearts. What better way to get the medical examiner’s attention? Like a version of a message in a bottle, he thought, smiling.

He knew he shouldn’t be playing games with Dr. McIntyre, but for some reason he couldn’t resist. He was like a cat, and she was his mouse.

He doused the body and lit the match. The blue-white flames quickly engulfed her body. “Maybe Dr. McIntyre will help me find what I’m looking for.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Wednesday, June 27, 5:15 a.m.

Despite his lack of sleep, Hayden felt energized as he picked up Faith at her home. Her hair was pulled up, and she was wearing jeans and a fitted V-neck black sweater that hugged her breasts in a way that was downright distracting. He was certain the woman could’ve worn a paper bag and still looked fine.

The faint scent of her perfume drifted around him and reminded him she liked to dab the scent between her breasts and behind her right ear.

She slid into the front seat. If they were a legit couple, he would have leaned over and kissed her. But this was another one of the moments that simply felt like overstepping.

He looked her over, taking in every detail. “Where are you rushing from?”

She buckled her seat belt. “I just dropped Kat off at the shelter. She showed up at my place last night and ended up spending the night with me.”

As she shifted in her seat, her sweater tightened briefly against her breasts. His heartbeat quickened, and he turned to the road ahead. As he left the parking lot, he said, “I need coffee. You want one?”

“Bless you,” she said. “I would kill for a cup.”

He pulled up to a fast-food drive-through and ordered a couple of coffees.

“Toss in a bagel. Cinnamon raisin, and I’ll love you forever,” she said. “I’m starving.”

He ordered two bagels, refused the money she offered, and paid the clerk at the window. She took the cups, settled

them in cupholders, and removed the drink tab on each. There was an odd intimacy in this moment. Sierra had done the same thing a million times.

She sipped her coffee while staring out at the city rushing past.

“How’s Macy?” he asked.

“I spoke to the nurse this morning. She’s hanging in there, which is saying a lot. No quit in her. And the nurse noticed she twitched when spoken to. It may simply be a reflex, but I’d like to think it was deliberate.”

“Might have been. Just because someone’s not awake doesn’t mean they don’t know you’re there,” he said.

“I know,” she said. “And if she’s like me, she’d want me focusing on the case, not her.”

Hayden nodded. “We found a picture on Macy’s phone that keeps coming back to me.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a snapshot of a missing person, Paige Sheldon.”

She frowned. “The pregnant girl who vanished?”

“Yeah. I looked up her case last night. She was five months pregnant. Had an argument with her parents, moved out, and vanished two days later.”

“And you’ve been to Second Chances?” she asked.