Disarming Detective (11 page)

“Thanks.” Ella took a big bite, savoring the chocolate, then said, “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I think you’d better talk to your sister again, Logan.”

“I know. I’ve also got some officers tracking down the license plates from the other cars that were at the gas station, in case any of those people saw Theresa.”

“The tech couldn’t get a license on the blue van, could he?”

Logan shook his head. “The van never pulled far enough into the station to get a shot of the plate. It was parked right by the pump for air, but if the driver ever got out to fill his tires, he’s out of the frame, too.” Logan shrugged. “The air is free, so the gas station wasn’t worried about having that area covered by the cameras. The guy could very well have been there legitimately. We just can’t tell.”

Ella put her hand on Logan’s arm, stopping him as they reached the conference room. “But someone’s running down a list of locals who own blue vans, right?” Just like anyone else, she occasionally got spooked by nothing, but she wasn’t the type to pull her gun at every imagined threat. She sensed that she needed to follow up.

“I’m checking on those myself, Ella, in Oakville and the surrounding towns. In the meantime, maybe we should move you to a different hotel.”

She smiled. “I’m armed. And the Bureau believes pretty strongly in teaching its agents defensive training. Believe me, I got the bruises to prove it back at the Academy, but I learned. This guy doesn’t want to mess with me.”

Logan didn’t look any less worried. “I’d still feel better if you were somewhere else. You can stay with me if you want. I have an extra bedroom.”

Her nerve endings tingled at the idea, but Ella forced herself to give him a look of disbelief. “Yeah, because that would really work.” If she stayed at his house, she’d end up in his bed, and they both knew it. Appealing as it might sound, that idea had
heartbreak
written all over it. And she didn’t have time to mess around.

“I’m fine where I am. If it’s the same person, he’s not coming after me in a busy hotel. And I’m not using that shortcut to the station anymore. I’m taking the long way around.”

Ella moved to go into the conference room, but Logan stepped in front of her, blocking her way, close enough to make her tip her head back to look at him. “That idea may have held when we were talking about a killer who ambushed his victims in deserted areas, but not anymore, Ella.”

“Logan—”

“Humor me, okay? Please.”

Deep furrows appeared in Logan’s forehead, and Ella realized he was dead serious. He was really afraid Theresa’s killer was targeting her, too. He was truly, deeply worried about her.

A rush of warmth went through her as she tried not to smile.

Although the idea of someone tracking her did have her concerned, the truth was, she could take care of herself. And even if she was wrong about how the killer was abducting his victims, she wasn’t wrong about his intelligence or his desire to keep a low profile. Since the media flurry hadn’t sent him on a spree, he was lying low, being that much more careful. As long as she didn’t give him an opportunity to get her in a deserted location, she’d be fine. There was no reason to panic.

Ella ignored the doubt pushing through and told Logan, “Okay, I’ll switch hotels.”

The worry lines on his forehead smoothed out and he gave her a relieved smile that made the inconvenience totally worth it.

“Good,” Logan said, heading into the conference room. “Because I’m already driving my sister crazy, calling her every couple of hours. I’m not sure you want me waking you up in the middle of the night, too.”

Actually, she kind of did. But not with a phone call.

Clamping her mouth shut, Ella followed him. “Okay. Let’s get to work. Maybe we should start by calling your sister? Make sure she doesn’t know of anyone around here that Theresa might have unexpectedly decided to meet.”

“I’m on it,” Logan said, his cell phone already pressed to his ear.

As Ella sat and devoured the rest of her candy bar, she half listened to Logan tell his sister, “No, that’s not why I’m calling this time, but I’m glad everything’s okay there.” He grinned at Ella as if to say, “See, I
am
driving her crazy.”

Logan continued to talk to Becky, and Ella knew she should be listening, but her mind kept wandering. If Theresa hadn’t been ambushed on a deserted stretch of road like they’d imagined, then her killer—whoever he was—had grabbed her somewhere else. Not only did they have no idea where that was, but they had no clue how he’d done it, either. Had he lured her out there? It seemed unlikely, unless she knew him. Had she been meeting someone else and the killer had taken advantage of the unexpected opportunity? That, too, seemed unlikely.

The problem was, everything in Ella’s profile was based on the idea that they knew certain things as fact. That the killer had tortured and burned Theresa before dumping her body in a location it was unlikely to be found. That he had grabbed her when she was heading in a direct route from Becky’s house to the airport.

If they were wrong about where she was grabbed, which they clearly were, then too much of Ella’s profile could also be wrong.

Anxiety spiked as she glanced over at Logan, talking to his sister. The sister she’d promised would be safe if she didn’t go anywhere deserted, if she didn’t give the killer a chance to ambush her. But if he wasn’t ambushing his victims after all...

Ella stood, started to pace. She felt Logan’s speculative look and when he ended the call, she preempted his question by saying, “Logan, maybe you should put your sister in protective custody.”

He stared at her, his expression probing, as if he was trying to read her mind. “Believe me, if we had the resources, I would. But we don’t.” He stood, took her hand in his own. “The abduction style isn’t the only reason you think the killer would wait to get his victims alone, right?”

Ella bit her lip as her heart rate started to crescendo with her nerves. The nature of her job meant that lives always hung in the balance of how deeply she could get into the killer’s head. But this—this panic she was feeling—was why her boss had always kept her away from cases where branding could be involved. Being too personally invested meant she wasn’t seeing things objectively. It meant she could be making mistakes.

Ella brought her free hand to her temple. When had this happened? When had she started to care so much about Logan that she couldn’t see the case clearly?

“Ella,” Logan said softly. “The way the body was dumped, the way the killer stalked Theresa, the way he’s still lying low now, they all tell you he wouldn’t risk breaking into the mayor’s house in a security-conscious neighborhood to make a grab, right?”

“Yes. But, Logan, I’m not right one hundred percent of the time. And profiling isn’t magic. People do uncharacteristic things and I can’t predict that.”

And she didn’t think she’d ever be able to forgive herself if she was wrong this time and Logan’s little sister paid the price.

Logan squeezed her fingers. “I trust you, Ella. But, believe me, I’m not taking chances with my sister’s life. And neither is my family. My dad has already hired her a bodyguard. Becky isn’t thrilled about it, but it keeps me from panicking if she doesn’t answer my million calls on the first ring.”

Ella let out a long breath. “Okay.” She looked up into Logan’s eyes, and something about his steady demeanor calmed her. “What did Becky say?”

“She didn’t know of any exes in the area. And she had called Theresa when she was on her way to the airport because Theresa left a necklace behind. But Theresa told Becky to mail it to her, because she didn’t want to miss her flight.”

“Huh. So either Theresa was lying or something happened after Becky talked to her that made her change her mind.”

Logan shrugged, let go of her hand. “I guess so. Becky and Theresa were close. I have a hard time imagining her lying to my sister, but I can’t think of anything that would make her decide at the last minute to skip her flight, either. And neither could Becky. Let me go check the fax machine and see if those call records have come in.”

“Great,” Ella said, lowering herself into a conference chair as he hurried out of the room. It was hard to muster up a lot of enthusiasm.

Nothing about this case was turning out like she’d expected. And despite the burns, she was beginning to wonder if it was connected to Maggie’s case at all.

When Logan returned a minute later and dropped a stack of pages on the table, looking dejected, Ella sat straighter and asked, “Nothing?”

“We got the call records.” He gestured to the papers he’d scattered. “But the only calls Theresa got after she left for the airport were two from Becky. That’s it.”

“Well, what about—”

“No other local calls while she was in Oakville, either.” Logan sighed. “It’s possible someone followed her from Arkansas and made contact. But it’ll take time to track down the rest of the calls she got while she was in town.”

He rubbed a hand over his eyes and Ella saw the exhaustion he was trying to hide. Not physical exhaustion so much as emotional.

“I’m not sure which route to take here, Ella. Tracking the phone numbers will likely lead us to the killer if he’s someone in her life. But a stranger? For that, we’d probably be better off following up on the people who might’ve seen Theresa at the gas station. We’ve got officers on that already, but I want to spend our time on the most likely option. I know I’m putting you on the spot, but what’s your professional opinion at this point? Do you still believe we’re talking about a serial killer here?”

Did she? Ella pushed back her uncertainty.
Think, Cortez. Think like the killer.

She might not know how the killer had grabbed Theresa, but she did know what he’d done to her afterward. The burns. The strangulation. The dumping of the body.

Someone from Arkansas might think a marsh was an easy place to dispose of the body, because it was simple to access and the body would sink, disappear in the muck. But what about the logistics? Where would he have carried out the murder? A hotel? How would he have gotten the body out into the marsh? Rented a boat? Would a nonlocal have felt comfortable rowing out among the gators?

And the crime itself. Torture and strangulation could be personal, a vendetta against someone. Or it could be the mark of a serial killer.

But those burns. Whether or not they were brands, they were specific. Part of a fantasy. They weren’t about the victim, but about the killer.

Ella felt her confidence returning. “It’s a serial killer.”

* * *

“
W
E
HAVE
A
WITNESS
.”

“What?” Ella looked up at Logan as he hurried back to their table at the Blue Dolphin where they’d been eating a lunch so late it might as well have been called dinner. He’d gone outside to answer his phone because the Blue Dolphin was packed and loud, just like it had been the first time he’d brought her here.

Logan hurriedly wrapped the sandwich he’d barely started and Ella did the same, pushing her chair backward.

“That call was from one of the officers who was running down the license plates from the gas station. One of the women who was there not only remembered Theresa, she talked to her.”

“What?” Ella’s eyes widened. Could this be the break they needed? “What did she say?”

“Come on. I’ll tell you in the car.” Logan picked up his drink and moved through the crowd toward the door.

Ella followed, her mind working overtime, imagining all the possibilities. “Well?” she demanded as they got into Logan’s Chevy Caprice and he pulled the car out fast.

“The woman said she talked to Theresa inside as Theresa was paying.”

“Wait,” Ella interrupted. “Why was she paying inside? She used her credit card. Why not pay at the pump?”

Logan glanced at her as he pointed the car in the opposite direction from where they’d headed to check out the highway. “She also bought gum.”

“Okay, so what did the witness say? And where are we going?”

“The woman said she overheard Theresa asking for directions and she looked frustrated. The woman helped her with the directions and asked if everything was okay. Theresa told her she was just annoyed because she was going to miss her flight. She was meeting someone.”

A dozen questions formed in Ella’s mind, but she couldn’t seem to ask any of them. Instead, her mouth fell open as she realized what Logan’s words meant. She’d been wrong. Very, very wrong. Theresa had probably known her killer.

“Ella?” Logan glanced at her again. “You okay?”

Ella shook herself out of it. “Yeah. Did she say who she was meeting?”

“No. Just that it was a friend. But she did say where she was going. And this is even weirder. She was meeting the person in Huntsville.”

“And? Why is that weird?”

“Well, Huntsville
is
in the same general direction as where we ultimately found Theresa’s rental, and the gas station where she stopped is along that route. But there’s nothing there. It’s an old farming community, but it’s pretty much abandoned. There are a few old-timers left, and at some point soon, developers will buy up the land and build a mall or something. But right now, it’s mostly open land and falling-down barns.”

Ella gave him a questioning look as he finally left the Oakville city limits and got onto a country highway, picking up speed. “Sounds like a pretty good place for an abduction and murder, then. So why is it weird? I mean, yes, it’s weird that she was meeting someone in the first place, but if she didn’t know the area and he did...”

Logan briefly turned to face her, and Ella saw something simmering under the surface she hadn’t noticed before. Anger. “Ella, my mom’s parents owned a farm out here. It’s long been deserted, but we still own the land. And the reason Theresa started talking to this woman is that she was trying to get directions and the woman overheard her. Apparently, she knew my grandparents, so she remembered where they’d lived. And according to her, that’s where Theresa was going. She remembers—and thought it was odd—because my grandparents have been dead for ten years.”