“We’re family.”
Tears filled her eyes and several spilled down her cheek. She shook her head and looked as if she wanted to say something, but then rejected it. “Did my mom love me?”
Tell her. Tell her. “She loved you very much.”
She swiped away a tear. “I think I’ve hated her all my life.”
“She never hated you.” For several minutes they sat in silence. “Look, Sooner, I’m not so foolish to think we’re going to come together like the Brady Bunch.”
“The who?”
“Never mind. I just want us to be close. No strings. Just friends. Wouldn’t it be nice to know you have someone to call if there is trouble?”
“Sure. I guess.”
“I’m here if you need me.” She reached in her coat pocket. “I want to give you some cash. Think of it as a housewarming gift.”
“Thanks, but no money.”
She dug deeper in her purse for her wallet. “Why not? You can use it to furnish the place.”
“No charity. I work for my money. Period.”
She’d not expected that. “Please take the money.”
“No.”
She shoved out a breath, realizing her respect for the girl had risen sharply. “I’m throwing a charitable fund-raiser. It’s kind of a Halloween theme. Actually my partner is doing all the work. Proceeds go to cancer research. It’s this Saturday.”
“Good.”
“We could use a card reader. Someone to liven up the party. I mean Angie’s got a band and food and jugglers but no card readers. It’s honest work. And it pays well.”
She stared at Charlotte for a long moment. “It’s for charity.”
“Yeah.”
“Sure, I’ll do it. But I’ll donate my services.”
“I want to pay you.”
“No. I can give just like everyone else.”
“I want to pay you.”
“If it will make you feel better, I’ll bring my shiny new business cards and pass them out. I’ll consider it a marketing event.”
Charlotte shook her head. “Why won’t you let me help you?”
“No one helped you.”
“No. And I took some shortcuts that I regret. It would be nice if you could avoid mistakes like that.”
“I won’t make those mistakes.”
Charlotte arched a brow. “Sooner.”
“You’ll keep me on the right path, I’ve no doubt.”
She smiled. “I’m going to do my best.”
The two ate in silence for several minutes before Charlotte said, “I want you to be very careful. There is a nutcase out there killing women.”
“I read about that woman in the paper.”
“You’ll be reading about another one in the morning paper. She was killed the same way.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m in danger.”
“This guy seems to have a thing for strong women and the carnival.”
“Grady’s carnival.”
“I think you could be his perfect victim.”
He dug the knife blade into the end of the wooden shaft and pushed hard until the wood splintered and slid free. Without much thought he repeated the process over and over until the tip of the wood reached razor sharpness. Setting the knife down, he pressed his thumb to the tip, watching in fascination as his skin tore and bled. Smiling, he laid the stake down next to the seven others he’d fashioned.
Four were reserved for Sooner and four for Grace.
Two witches.
Two deaths.
Excitement sent his heart gaveling against his ribs. Their deaths would be a great triumph that he would savor for a very long time. Drawing a breath as he stood, he wiped the blood from his thumb with a rag.
As much as he wanted to stay in this room, sequestered with his thoughts and fantasies, it was time to focus on his life outside. He had another life with people who loved him despite his dedication to justice. Tonight he’d promised his love a real date. It would be time for just the two of them. He would find the right words to say, listen as a lover should, and win back her love.
Even a warrior needed a life outside of battle.
He carefully rolled down the sleeves of his shirt, fastened his cuffs, and then tugged them down over his wrists. The cuts in his arms were bandaged but he still had to be careful. It wouldn’t do to start bleeding again.
As he slid on his jacket, he glanced at the wall where he displayed his photos. They were the faces of evil, the witches he had slain. Maya had brought the number of images to eighteen. Gently he traced the photo image of her terrified face.
Satisfaction collided with anticipation. By Saturday night, the number of photos on his wall would be twenty.
Chapter 18
Thursday, October 28, 11 a. m.
Rokov had expected a needle in the haystack when he’d started searching for Mariah Wells. Armed with her name, a picture, and the date she died, he didn’t hold out much hope that he’d find anything. He contacted the surrounding jurisdictions, gave them her vital statistics, and asked them to check morgue files. He also called Dr. Henson and asked her to review old autopsy files.
It was just after eleven when Sinclair appeared in his doorway, file in hand. “I’ve got all the missing persons reports on women who match our second victim.”
He took the files from her. “Great.”
“Word is you’re asking about another missing persons case. What gives?”
“How do you know everything?”
“It’s a gift. And I’ve also got a file from Fairfax. An officer just dropped it off. It’s the file yo
u requested.”
“Mariah Wells.”
“Jane Doe as far as he’s concerned.” She glanced at the folder tab. “Murdered eighteen years ago.”
Rokov sat back in his chair and dragged his hands over his short hair. He opened the file and examined the autopsy picture. She’d been dead at least a day. Her lips had turned black and her skin a sallow gray. But this was Mariah.
“Who is she?”
“She was Charlotte Wells’s sister. Mariah Wells.”
“Charlotte doesn’t know her sister is dead?”
“She knows. She believes she drowned in an accident.”
“That chick did not die accidentally.”
“You looked at the file already?”
“Sure. It isn’t often you call in favors. That’s not your style. I had to see what all the fuss was about. I take it she’s related to Sooner Tate? Mother?”
“Has to be. She gave birth at seventeen and was murdered shortly after.”
“So Charlotte is the girl’s aunt? Explains why she was with her in court.”
“Yeah.”
“So how did you find out about Mariah?”
“I asked her about working in the carnival. The rumors are true. When I told her about the second murder and that both victims had been to the carnival, she opened up about Mariah. I’m worried that the carnival owner might be involved.”
“What do we know about Grady?”
“He wasn’t at the carnival when I went by. No one has seen him today. I was just reading up on the old guy. Seems he has more than his share of trouble with the law.”
“A carnie butting heads with the law. Shocking.”
“Most of his crimes happened in his teens and early twenties. Stealing. Assault. Drunk in public. But he seems to have settled down by his late twenties. Or at least he got older and wiser and just managed to stay out of trouble.”
“How does he know Charlotte?”
“Her stepfather more or less. I’m not sure if the marriage to Charlotte and Mariah’s mother was legal.”
“How long has he been running the carnival?”
“Thirty years.”