Brody Law. Carol Ericson
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see.” She held up her hand and counted off from the first finger. “My money, my keys, my lipstick.”
“Your lipstick?” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward the bathroom.
“Different shade, but now that makes two of my lipsticks he’s stolen.”
“Even if he hadn’t kept your keys, you would’ve still had to change your locks since he got a look at your license.”
“I know.” She slipped her cell phone from the bag. “At least he left me my phone.”
She glanced at the display and noticed two text messages blinking. “Do you want something to eat or drink while we’re waiting for the locks?”
“Just some water, please.”
She placed the phone and handkerchief on the kitchen counter and went to the refrigerator to fill a glass with water from the dispenser. She clinked the glass in front of him and swept her phone from the tile.
She opened the first message, which Courtney had sent earlier this morning. One word—breakfast? If Courtney thought she had a lot to tell Elise about last night, Elise definitely had her beat.
She clicked on the next message from an unknown number. Someone had sent her a picture. A wisp of apprehension brushed the back of her neck as she touched the picture to expand it.
The eyes of the girl in the picture mesmerized her, and she felt darkness closing in around her.
Elise dropped the phone. The corner hit the counter and bounced once before landing facedown. Her body convulsed, and then she began to sway.
“Elise?” He caught her with one arm, supporting her against his chest. He barely felt the pressure from her tiny frame. Was she having some kind of delayed shock or reaction to the hypothermia?
He started to lead her out of the kitchen, but she dug her heels in the floor.
“The phone.” The rasp in her voice made it sound as if she were choking.
“Sit first. I’ll get the phone in a second.” He swept her up in his arms and carried her to the couch. Her dress had hiked up nearly around her waist, exposing an expanse of smooth thigh and a pair of wrinkled black panties.
He settled her on the couch and dragged a colorful afghan across her lap. “What’s on the phone?”
He charged back into the kitchen. Had her abductor sent her a message, too? Good. The better to track him down.
Her teeth chattered. “I-it’s a p-picture.”
Sean snapped on a rubber glove and touched the screen, bringing it to life. He swore at the image—a young woman, bound, her eyes wide and terrified above her gag.
“Do you know her?”
“Wh-what?”
Sean sat beside Elise and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pressing her close against his body. Gradually, her trembling subsided.
He rubbed her arm. “Do you know the woman in the picture?”
She shook her head, and her hair, still stiff from the salt water, scratched his cheek.
“The number. Do you recognize the telephone number?”
“No.” She took a deep breath that caused a shudder to run through her body. “It came up as unknown. He sent that to me, that vile, horrible...” Her words broke off in a sob.
“Shh.” He wrapped his other arm around her so that he enfolded her in a hug, and still the ripples coursed through her.
She tilted her head back and stared into his face. “She’s in the trunk of a car, isn’t she? Just like me.”
“It looks like it. He’s an idiot. He’s allowed his hubris to get the better of him. We’re going to blow up this picture, trace the phone number. He’s just given us a bunch of evidence we didn’t have before.”
“And the girl? Do you think she’s dead?”
Of course she was dead. “I don’t know, Elise. It doesn’t look good.”
“That could’ve been me. That was me, only he didn’t tie me up. Maybe he perfected his technique after I got away.”
“We have no idea when this picture was taken. I don’t think he went out after you escaped this morning and found another woman.”
This morning. Did all this just happen today? She chewed on her bottom lip. “I want it off my phone.”
“I know you do.” He stuffed the phone in his pocket. “But right now the picture is evidence, and so is your phone. We need to find that girl.”
“Have there been any missing girls reported?”
“Always.” He didn’t plan to tell Elise about all the sad stories that crossed their desks, all the calls from desperate family members. He traced the edges of her phone with the pads of his fingers. Which family members would claim this one?
“Why did he send that to me?” Elise buried her face in her hands. “I’ll never be able to get that image out of my head.”
“He’s a sadist.” And somehow he’d dialed into him. Maybe the killer knew about his past, maybe he didn’t, but now they were tied together. That message on the mirror tied them together.
“Ms. Duran, I’m all done with the locks on the front door.” The locksmith poked his head around the front door. If he’d heard any of their conversation, he gave no sign.
Elise tried the locks and then settled the bill with him, but it was obvious her mind remained on that picture on her phone.
“He’s a serial killer, isn’t he? He’s a serial killer you don’t know about yet. He’s just getting started and he wants to play some sick game with you...and now me.”
It was a game he knew too well. He gestured around the small house. “Are you going to be okay here? I have to get to the station, turn in your phone and purse.”
She glanced over her shoulder toward the hallway. “I have to take a shower.”
“Do you want me to wait here? When you’re done, I can take you to the station with me and you can look through some mug shots.”
“Would you do that?” She was already moving toward the back rooms. “I won’t be long.”
He waved a hand. “Take your time. I’m going to call in and report this picture. Maybe they can get a trace started when I give them your phone number.”
She ducked into her bedroom and then darted across the hall to the bathroom, clutching a bundle of clothes to her chest.
Sean let out a long breath and collapsed onto Elise’s colorful couch. What the hell was going on? Why did the guy who abducted Elise share a similar tattoo with him? Why did he write a message to him on Elise’s mirror? This had to be a coincidence.
Serial killers had toyed with homicide detectives way before his father’s time, and they’d continue to do so long after Sean’s career. When he saw the message, Dan Jacoby hadn’t jumped to any conclusions and Dan definitely knew the story of his past.
He was probably overreacting. That’s what his brothers would tell him, but as the eldest the burden had weighed most heavily on him. Hell, Judd could barely even remember the old man, couldn’t remember the life they’d had before...before everything had been sucked into the bay by a strong, merciless current.
He plowed his fingers through his hair and shifted to the end of the couch. The soft cushions made it tough to sit up straight, so he gave up and slouched against the back of the couch while he made his call.
When