Cuts Like a Knife: A Novel (A Kristen Conner Mystery Book 1) (47 page)

I think I’ve just come up with the obvious
solution. Ah, yes. Perfect. It’s a dark, quiet
street. People lock their
doors and mind their
own business.

I wonder if Dell has ever felt my eyes on him? This isn’t the first city I’ve
followed him to. Sometimes he would stay too
long in one location and I’d have to pack up and move on without him. But we’ve been together more than he knows.

Someday I’ll thank
him for what he did
for me in Chicago. First
he introduced me to Kristen. He didn’t know
he did, of course, but
I saw her out with him. And that led me to Klarissa. My soulmate.

Time to get moving
.

74

I PULL INTO the parking lot of my apartment, find a spot close to my place, turn off the engine, and glance at my cell. I missed a couple of calls and have a text from Reynolds.

You ever going to talk to me again? Meet me for dinner. You can’t stay mad forever. Let’s talk.

I look at the time stamp. It came in about the time I was arriving at Jimmy and Kaylen’s. Not tonight, Austin. And who are you to say how long I can stay mad?

Missed a call from Klarissa—so maybe she was going to invite me for dinner. Though I can’t remember the last time I saw her cook. No message. Reynolds called before texting—no message from him either. Another missed call—and message—from a private number. Dell? Must have called while I was watching
Shrek.
I am tired. I haven’t paid attention to anything tonight. Not good.

I feel guilty as I admit to myself that I am relieved. I don’t want to listen to a message from Dell. I want to sleep.
It’s game on, Kristen. Pay attention in case he calls back. Tired is irrelevant.

I latch the top closed on my convertible and get out. I look up at a beautiful full moon. Summer is here but the temperature has dropped into the low seventies or upper sixties. A light breeze blows from Lake Michigan. It feels great.

My bodyguards pull up behind me and the passenger window slides down. It is Carter, the buzzcut, riding shotgun. I don’t recognize the driver. I’ll meet him in the morning.

“I’ll walk you upstairs, Detective,” Carter says gallantly.

“I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure you will. But I think I’ll walk you up anyway.”

“Captain’s orders?”

“Yes ma’am.”

He has been calling me ma’am all week. I know thirty is upon me, but come on, do I look like his mother?

“Carter?”

“Yes ma’am?”

“I am honored to be protected by a clean-cut, conscientious, and very polite all-American young man.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

I sigh and continue. “But despite my admiration for a man with good manners, if you call me ma’am one more time I am going to—”

“Don’t say it,” he says laughing, his hand held up in the universal stop sign. “I am pretty polite but I didn’t grow up in the South. Your, uh, partner, incentivized me to call you ma’am and let him know how long you would put up with it before saying anything.”

“Incentivized?”

“Well, just a JavaStar card.”

We’re at the door. Oh, the things I want to say. Don is so dead. I just shake my head, give him a little half laugh and smile, and shut the door behind me.

I twist the dead bolt to the locked position and turn to head for my bedroom. A sheet of paper is folded and on the floor of my tiny foyer. Someone slid it under the door. If my downstairs neighbor is complaining about my workout routine again . . .

I bend over and pick it up. It’s a take-out menu for a Chinese restaurant. I start to crumple it up to throw away but unfold it to make sure nothing is on the back. There is.

A handwritten note from Dell.

I skim it and can barely breathe.

Oh God . . . what is going on?

75

June
20, 10:45 p.m.

HOW
IN THE WORLD
did he find me? Did Detective Conner rub off on him? I can only wish.
He would have matched her
incompetence and not found me at such an awkward moment.

The Woods brothers are no dummies. Not
bad Dell, not bad. But
why did you have to
get involved and make a
mess of things? What
were you thinking? What in the world did you think you could do against me? Is that how you treat a brother? You
just barge into where he’s working and interrupt
what he’s doing? Have
I ever done that to you? Of course not. That would
be rude. Unacceptable.

And then he had the audacity to insist I stop.
Was he serious? I thought
he was bright. I had
hoped he would recognize my
genius. But in lieu
of that, I would hope he
had enough common sense to
bow out gracefully, or
at least appreciate what I’d done for him. I am
his brother after all. Doesn’t blood count for something? It does for me.

He tried to talk me into turning myself in. Letting Klarissa
go.

I don’t need to do anything. I do as I will.
And I finish what
I
start.

Klarissa was playing possum on me. Drugs must have faded while I dealt with Dell. I
can’t believe she hit me on the head with
that vase and bit me. She has sharp teeth. I might need a rabies shot.

None of
my girls have ever hurt me like that.

I’ll
have to show her that
women aren’t allowed to
hurt me anymore.

She’s sleeping quietly now. And
soon she will enter the sleep of eternity.

76

I AM FROZEN in place and time. What have I just read? Why didn’t I see this coming?

The note from Dell read:

I hope someday you will forgive me. I swear to you, I never knew what he was doing. I should have come in and talked to you when you asked me to. I just didn’t want to believe my brother was capable of such atrocities. He’s had such bad luck in life, I wanted to know for myself what he was doing before pointing you in his direction.

I know I’m rationalizing. Here’s what you really need to know.

I drove over to my townhome earlier this week. I didn’t go in. I just wanted to see who was watching. I was expecting to see the police staking it out. Instead I saw Dean. That’s when I knew he was probably involved in these murders. I followed him when he left. I can barely write these words. I know how much they are going to hurt you.

Dean knows where Klarissa lives. He drove to her street and watched her home for a couple hours. It was Wednesday. I lost him when he drove off, but I can’t help but think she is his next victim. So I’ve been watching her home to protect her. I just haven’ t been able to bring myself to turn him in. But I finally came to my senses and realized I needed to let you know. When you didn’t pick up tonight, I decided to drive over and tell you face-to-face. You weren’t here so I’m leaving this note. I know it’s inevitable so I’m ready to be interviewed by authorities. I just want you to be present and I want you to know what is happening first. That’s why I didn’t leave a message on your cell for the FBI to hear.

I hope you get this note soon.

I’m driving back over to Klarissa’s home now. I promise to keep her safe.

I’m sorry. Please find it in your heart to forgive me.

How in the world does Dell think he can protect Klarissa against a serial killer? What is wrong with him? And he thinks he can dictate that I’m there for his interviews? He’s lost it.

I grab my Beretta from my handbag and drop it in the front pocket of my Under Armour jacket. I open the door, shut it with a bang, and run down the stairs. My eyes are scanning the parking lot for my protective detail as I hit the bottom of the stairs. Where did they park? I see them close to the entrance. I hop in my car, gun the engine, jam it in reverse, and lay down rubber driving over to them. Carter is out of the car, his hand held up to stop me. I roll down the window.

“Who’s the best driver between you two?” I ask.

“Me,” he answers. I remember him following me on the drive to Grace Mills’ murder scene. He is good.

“Get ready to run some red lights and stay with me. And get your weapons locked and loaded. We’ve got a potential situation that includes the Cutter Shark.”

His eyes get wide and he starts to ask a question. I interrupt with the first word still formed on his mouth. “I’m leaving right now. If you’re coming, you better get in that car and start it up.”

I’ve pulled out and am half a block away when I see the unmarked patrol car bounce out of the parking lot behind me in my rearview mirror. It’s not quite eleven. I need to get over to Klarissa’s now. Dell doesn’t know what he’s doing. I’ve got two pups to help me out. But I need the whole cavalry riding with me.

I hit Klarissa’s number. This might not be the night he is going to strike. I can hope. But she still has to get out of there. I don’t even get a ring. It goes straight into voice mail. I hit one to bypass the instructions and say to her, “Klarissa, listen carefully. You are not safe at your place. If you are home, you need to get out of there right now. But carefully. Turn off the lights. Do a quick outside scan. Then go out your back door if the coast is clear. I think that is probably best. Hit the alley and start running west. Call me when you’re a couple blocks away and I’ll pick you up.”

Please be on the phone with someone else. Let that be the reason I got no ring. Please be safe.

I hit Don’s number on speed dial.

“How are you, ma’am?” he asks with a chuckle.

“Don, do you have a piece of paper and something to write with?” I ask.

“Not in the mood for a joke?”

“Don, I’m on my way to Klarissa’s. I need to give you her address. I need backup. Now!”

“What’s going on, Conner?”

“Don, no time to talk. Don’t ask me any questions. Call back after you get our team moving and I’ll give you everything I know—which isn’t much. But you’ve got to get things rolling now. The Cutter has targeted Klarissa. He may or may not be in the proximity of her place. Ditto with Dell. I need the ponies running now. But they have to come in silent and invisible. Got that?”

“Give me the address.”

I repeat it twice and then hang up as he’s trying to say something to me. I already know he’s going to tell me to stand down until backup is present. He just needs to get the troops rolling and I need to handle whatever it is facing me at Klarissa’s. I wish Dell would call me now. He was on his way to Klarissa’s an hour ago. Call me, Dell. Tell me Klarissa is okay.

I call Klarissa’s number again. It goes into voice mail immediately. Not good. Is she going to be there? She has to be. But if she is, is she still alive? I force that thought from my mind.

Dean, the Cutter Shark, has been neat and orderly his whole career of killing. Van Guten is right. He’s unraveled—which is good for us catching him but not necessarily good for my sister right now. When he said his next victim was going to be at the beginning of summer, how literal was he being? The first day? The first official minute of summer—just an hour or so from now? He issued a challenge to us. But is his mind clear enough to follow through on it to the detail?

I downshift into second to slow down for a red light on Kenzie. I see a gap in the traffic flow, stomp on the accelerator, and run the red. I look in the rearview mirror and see that Carter didn’t make it. I keep his number under a magnet on my refrigerator. He’s called numerous times to announce visitors, but not much in the past week. I know his number is in my call log and I’m going to have to scroll down to find it.

I continue to weave in and out of traffic, one eye on the road, one on the tiny screen, and my mind everywhere. Van Guten said that the Cutter Shark’s attack of me was a message to all law enforcement members on the case—letting them know who was in charge—but that it was also something personal. Why didn’t I—why didn’t any of us—think about my family’s safety?