Find Me (34 page)

Sarah banged her head against the headrest. "Okay, so the boot is circumstantial. Let's throw in the propranolol."

"She has an alibi," Kale countered, "and we can't connect her to the roses. The ones delivered to my parents' home were ordered at a shop in Bangor two days before she went missing."

Bangor?
I just got it two days ago. Jerald would not be pleased if he knew I'd left Bangor without getting it filled
.

"That's where she goes to the doctor."

Kale glanced at Sarah. "What?"

"Lynda Pope. She told me she goes to see a specialist in Bangor. When we were searching for your sister, she mentioned that she'd gotten a new prescription just two days before from her doctor in Bangor."

Kale stared straight ahead. Kept driving.

"Admit it," she demanded. "That's too many coincidences to be circumstantial."

"August has to know that's where her doctor is. They tracked down her prescription."

"Forget it!" It was like talking to a brick wall!

"Is it August?"

She turned to face him. "What?"

He braked for a stop and set those dark eyes on her. "Are you certain there isn't still something between the two of you? Is that why he has to be wrong? You need that conflict to prove something?"

She reached for the door handle. "I don't have to listen to this."

He punched the accelerator, earning a couple of horn blares for the move. "I'm not letting you out of my sight."

Her cell phone vibrated. She started to ignore it but decided that she'd rather ignore him. "Newton."

"So now you've pissed off the FBI." Her editor. "I don't have time for this, Tae." Had he seen the news clip already?

"Your former favorite fed called me." Well, that answered that question. "He threatened to have his director on my back if I didn't get you under control."

"Oh, yeah?" If he was about to insist she come back to New York, he could save his breath.

"Oh, yeah," Tae echoed. "I told him he could forget about it. I don't take orders from him or his director." Sarah smiled. "I'll try to stay out of his way."

"That would make life simpler." Yeah, yeah, she knew.

"I'd tell you to keep me updated on the changing situation but I guess I'll have to count on Fox News for that." She promised to do better and ended the call. "Is there still something between you and August?" That Kale had the audacity to repeat the question made her want to slug him.

"The only thing between Lex August and me is animosity."

"What exactly did he do?" Kale shrugged. "Besides being a complete asshole, I mean."

"He screwed up a case. Got an innocent man killed and then used my conclusions on the case as his own to cover his ass."

How could she have ever been that stupid? That fucking blind?

"You're not…" Kale began, "still in love with him?"

He didn't just ask that question? "Take me to the inn," She wasn't even responding to that ludicrous question.

"Is that a no?"

Fury blasted her nerve endings. "That's the mother of all nos, Conner."

"Good."

Good? Obviously he was suffering from some sort of post-traumatic stress syndrome over his sister's abduction. He damned sure wasn't making any sense.

"Is it okay if I stop by my office first?" He arrowed her a sidelong glance. "Unless you're pissed at me for asking such personal questions and want me out of your sight like right this minute."

Whatever. "Why not?" What else was she going to do? The cops wouldn't listen to her. Idiots.

She needed to think. To figure out a new strategy. One that would prove her theory. Anticipation filtered past her frustration. She'd made that announcement to the press; that should seriously piss off the killer. All she needed was to watch for the reaction.

Conner and Sons was a block off the harbor, in a back alley. The entrance was tucked between the rear exits of two restaurants. His office was bigger than Sarah had expected.

A young woman, one who looked around the same age as Kale, sat behind the reception desk. "Hey, Kale, I didn't expect to see you today." She smiled a big, shiny-lipped smile. Her eyes went huge with admiration.

He had himself an admirer. Something along the lines of jealousy pricked Sarah. She refused to acknowledge it.

Anyway, the receptionist looked like perfect wife material.

That Sarah's mouth automatically formed a frown at the thought irritated her all the more.

"Christine, this is Sarah Newton."

"Oh, yeah." Christine stuck out her hand. "I saw you on the news a few minutes ago. You look so young on TV."

Sarah gave her hand a quick shake. Opted to take the comment as a compliment. "Thanks."

"I just have to check on a couple of things and I'm off."

Christine gave Kale a big puppy-dog look. "I'm so thankful Polly's okay. I had everyone I know praying so hard."

"Thanks. We appreciate that."

Sarah followed him to his office. "I'm surprised she hasn't hooked and reeled you in already."

He pushed the door shut. "What?"

Sarah jerked her head toward the door. "Christine. She's clearly mad about you."

Kale laughed as he riffled through his messages. "Sure."

Did he not see it? Whatever. Not her business.

As she scanned the numerous photos of him and his father and their crew hanging on the walls, an idea occurred to her. "You could take me for a ride in one of your boats." The inspiration gained momentum even as she spoke.

"If you want. It's pretty damned chilly out there, though."

From the water they should be able to see every cave close to the Pope property, as well as the boathouse and the main house. "I want." She reached for the door. "Hurry up."

"You mean now?"

She nodded. "There's a murderer out there, in case you've forgotten. I want to study the shoreline for any caves we might have missed." She would tell him what she really wanted to do once they were in the water.

He tossed his messages onto his desk. "The chief made me promise I'd keep you out of trouble."

Nothing she hadn't expected. "What's the problem? I just want a tour of the shoreline from the water."

"You will tell me what you're really up to before you actually do it, right?" Those dark eyes nailed hers. She faked a smile. "You have my word." After that Sarah wanted to stop by Matilda's house and find out if her mother had seen her. As certain as Sarah was that Matilda was extremely capable of taking care of herself, probably had been doing it her whole life, she still worried about the kid.

Right now Sarah had to see which domino was going to fall.

11:30 A.M.

"So no one comes out here in the winter?"

"Hardly ever. The owner is a summer resident." They'd decided to stop by Matilda's house first and gotten nothing from her no-good mother. Then Kale had taken Sarah on a tour of the shoreline from one end of the village city limits to the other. He'd pointed out the caves and assured her that each one had been searched. The one where Polly had been held was marked as a crime scene and techs and deputies were still milling about. Sarah had waited patiently through the tour before revealing her true agenda to Kale.

The small island they'd docked at provided the perfect view of the waterfront side of the Pope property.

Sarah reached for her binoculars then dropped her bag onto the porch. She studied the house, zeroing in on each massive window, one at a time.

The family appeared to be home. No company. No evidence that they were packing for a hasty retreat.

Could Lynda Pope carry such a burning hatred that she would kill two innocent young women? Was her husband helping her? Or was he the killer and hoped to point suspicion in her direction? What was the motive? Sure, envy drove people to commit heinous acts at times. But these were people who had it all. Was the thrill gone now? Was this an attempt at infusing excitement into their lives and relationship? Or was getting even for the few things their one beloved offspring hadn't attained in life the goal? Maybe he just wanted rid of his wife.

Matilda had a feeling about him… but did that carry any real significance?

Sarah couldn't prove anything. It was just a hunch. A gut instinct that the people inside that house were somehow responsible for the murders.

"You know," Kale said, moving up behind her, "once I knew my sister was safe, I had this overwhelming craving." He fit his body snugly against Sarah's backside.

She lowered the binoculars, her senses instantly going into a whole new zone. His pelvis nestled firmly against her lower back. Even with the fullness of her coat separating them she could feel how hard he was. Her nostrils flared with a sharp intake of breath.

"You're distracting me," she said, her voice, already husky with lust, reflecting just how much. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

He leaned down, nipped her earlobe with his teeth. She shivered. "For chocolate or ice cream or something like that?"

His gloves hit the floor, then his hands slid around to rest on her hips. "No. Not that kind of craving." One of those wicked hands reached up and took her binoculars, set them carefully on the wide railing that encircled the porch. "I see." She breathed the words.

He pushed up her coat, slipped loose the button of her jeans and slowly lowered the zipper. Another of those delicious shivers rippled through her. He stripped the jeans and panties down her hips, then guided her into a forward lean.

Sarah braced her hands on the railing, closed her eyes as he traced the seam of her ass with deft fingers. A gasp hissed past her lips.

The metal-on-metal scrape of his zipper sent her pulse into an erratic rhythm. The rip of foil assured her he took the necessary precautions.

Then the tip of his penis nudged her. Her body pulsed with anticipation and she pushed away all other thoughts.

He guided himself using those magic fingers, teasing her clit as he worked that hard tip inside her. Her fingers tightened on the railing as he drove fully inside. Her muscles clenched around him. He groaned.

"That's it…" He made a pleasurable sound as he slid back and forth, back and forth. "What I was craving."

She spread her feet wider apart, arched her butt to give him deeper access. The friction was driving her crazy… that he stretched her so tight never ceased to be a pleasant surprise. He was big… big and hard.

With the distance from civilization there was no one to fear seeing or overhearing them. She let herself go. "Harder," she ordered. He accommodated her demand. She cried out… felt that building, building sensation, felt her body go taut… until the pleasure burst inside her, leaving her panting, hot, wet, and wanting more.

He leaned over her, his throbbing cock still deep inside her, and pressed hard against that spot that made her squirm. "More?" he whispered in her ear.

Was he crazy? "Yes." She moaned. She wanted him over and over until he lost his mind just like she had already.

He straightened, burrowed deeper. She reached up, put her arms around his head and pulled his face to hers. He kissed her, slowly, matching the tiny in and out movements. A little deeper, a little more. She screamed in his mouth.

Came hard.

He stopped. Every fucking muscle in her body vibrated with the sensations. Her breasts ached. She moved his hands there so that he could rub them. She pressed his palms with hers, making him caress her more firmly.

He growled with the effort of holding back. She took control, sinking back against him, easing him deeper into her. The rush was amazing, had her gasping for breath… and building toward a third orgasm.

He roared with his own plunge toward release. She teased him, grinding, rocking her hips, and he still held back his full, thick length.

She had to have all of him. Pushing away the last of her reservations, she leaned forward, braced herself, and spread her legs wide apart.

He went in all the way.

They cried out together.

He thrust once, twice more, and then he came hard and fast.

She went on her toes with the impact of her third orgasm.

He held her that way, nestled deep inside her.

Even then, she couldn't resist lifting her gaze to the house across the water.

The truth was there… she was certain.

2313
Beauchamp Road
, 1:00 P.M.

Jerald turned up the volume on the plasma hanging above the fireplace. He instinctively moved toward it as the local news on the hour recapped the latest events. Sarah Newton's image flashed on the screen, a microphone stuck in her face.

"The person responsible for these two tragic murders is female. She's out there and she's not finished yet."

He moved his head side to side. Sarah Newton refused to give up. Part of him couldn't help respecting her dogged-ness. She would not relinquish until she had the truth.

That admirable trait presented quite the dilemma.

"Daddy."

He turned to find Jerri Lynn standing on the other side of the room watching him, her parka and boots evidence she had only just returned home.

She shook her head, her eyes wide with something akin to shock.

He moved toward her. Wanted to explain that what he'd done was for her benefit.

She backed away. "What have you done?" Before he could respond, her mother entered the room. "What's going on?" She looked from Jerald to the television screen where more images and comments regarding the ongoing investigation eclipsed the killing storms in the South and the unrelenting floods in the West.

Jerri Lynn ran from the room. Lynda stared after her.

When the clomp of her boots on the stairs had faded, his wife walked quickly to where Jerald stood.

"Jerald, I don't know what she's up to but something very strange is going on around here." She glanced toward the hall to ensure their daughter was still out of hearing range. "We should have sent her away to school. There's…" Lynda shook her head, fell silent.

He refused to admit that she was all too correct. That would be pointless now. There were more pressing problems. "What's wrong now, Lynda?"

Her troubled gaze lit with a hint of anger. "You always take her side. She's done nothing but widen the gap between us." Lynda clutched his sweater sleeve. "We need time for us, Jerald. Just the two of us. I can't live like this any longer." Desperation replaced the fury. "I want things to be the way they used to be… when we shared everything. Before any of the things… that went wrong."

He tensed, reclaimed the calm that he rarely allowed to slip. He knew all too well exactly what she meant. But that was in the past. There was no need to go back there. The pressing matter now was their daughter. "What is it you feel is so strange?"

Again Lynda glanced in the direction of the stairs. "Some of my medication is missing."

His tension escalated. "Your heart medication?" Of course that was what she meant. His wife took no other medication.

She nodded. "And this afternoon I was looking for my other snow boots and I found a knife hidden beneath my Louis Vuitton bag. It was wrapped in one of my scarves." Lynda leaned closer to him and whispered. "Jerald, it was covered in blood. I don't know what's going on… but I'm very frightened."

Careful. Don't react. "What did you do with this knife?"

She swallowed hard, the effort visible along the slender column of her throat. "I hid it in the mudroom."

"Show me."

As they moved down the hall toward the kitchen, Lynda paused to ensure Jerri Lynn was nowhere in sight. Music abruptly blared. Her music. She was in her room. Clearly relieved, Lynda took his hand and led the way as if he was unsure of the route. In the mudroom, she lifted the lid to the woodbox and reached inside. She handed him the item wrapped in the silk scarf.

He cautiously unwrapped the knife. Scarlet smeared its shiny blade.

Fear tinged his blood.

There was only one thing he could do now.

He wrapped the scarf around the stained knife once more and tucked it into a canvas bag he used for trips to the market. Setting the bag aside, he reached for his coat. "I'll be back soon."

Lynda's eyes searched his but she did not ask the question he saw burning in hers.

There was nothing to say. He knew what he had to do.

The drive to Bangor took forty-five minutes. Jerald stopped at the gate and entered the necessary code. When the gate slid out of the way, he rolled through the entrance.

River City Storage. The most secure storage facility in all of Bangor. State-of-the-art climate control. Twenty-four-hour monitoring with full-service maintenance.

He parked in his reserved slot and entered the building, which required yet another code. Three layers of security, including biometrics.

Inside, he took the elevator to the sixth floor.

Both sides of the corridor were lined with double entry doors. Each set of doors marked with a number.

Jerald stopped in front of the double doors marked with the number 6.

He entered the code he'd personally selected, 666, then pressed the pad of his thumb to the scanner. The door released, allowing him access to the unit he leased.

Closing the door, he ensured the internal lock was set, then he turned to face his demons.

The clothes he'd worn, from the shoes to the masks, for each encounter were carefully stored in sealed garment bags. The instruments he had used in each of those encounters were packed in their special case, locked and stored on the shelf above the hanging garment bags.

Across the width of the back of the unit was the vault that was absolutely essential to his needs.

Slowly, one determined step at a time, he crossed to that vault. Stored inside were twenty items, each item carefully preserved and labeled.

He had promised himself that when his daughter was born he would stop. No matter how much the weakness haunted him. No matter how intensely he missed the incredible pleasure. He would stop. There was no choice.

Jerald despised those, like Matilda Calder's whore of a mother, who continued to serve their own selfish weaknesses as if they were gods to be worshipped. When the choice was made to bring a child into the world, those weaknesses had to be overcome. No matter the sacrifice.

That child was the only reason he hadn't killed that selfish bitch when she'd tempted him.

His entire life
before
, he had searched for the one thing he had felt missing inside him.
Heart
. When his daughter was born, he'd found that the organ he'd thought nonexistent all those years indeed was present. He'd experienced emotions he'd never known existed prior to that wondrous day.

From that moment forward, his life had been complete.

As challenging as overcoming his own vile weakness had been, he had mastered it. Had never looked back.

Until now.

She
had inherited that weakness.

There was no question. No way to deny the reality.

He had no choice.

The only remaining question was the how to save her.

Conviction filled him.

He knew how.

Sarah Newton.