Love Inspired Suspense June 2014 Bundle 2 of 2: Forced Alliance\Out for Justice\No Place to Run (27 page)

Edith approached and Lexi pulled her hand free. Moments later, a large mushroom, onion and pepperoni pizza sat on the table between them. After topping off their tea glasses, Edith left them alone again.

Alan pulled two steaming slices onto each of the plates. “So how's your mom?” He couldn't make the case be over. But maybe he could take her mind off of it while she ate.

She heaved a sigh. “Mom's just Mom. She sprained her ankle a couple of weeks ago, so I've been dropping by to help her with laundry and cleaning and stuff. But I get the distinct impression she's milking it.”

Alan laughed. “That doesn't surprise me.”

“She's getting to see me almost every day, so it's given her some sense of control. I think if Mom had her way, she'd be orchestrating every detail of my life, right down to how many animals I have and what time I go to bed at night. I've always been her project, but it's worse since Dad died.”

“At least you're not living under the same roof. So once the laundry or cleaning or whatever is finished, you get to walk away.”

“Yeah, except she saw the press conference and ever since she's been insisting that I come and stay with her.”

“It's not too often that I agree with your mother, but in this case, she's got a good point.”

“I'd rather take my chances with a killer.”

She stabbed a bite-size piece with a little more force than necessary. Maybe her mom wasn't a good topic of conversation.

For as long as he had known Lexi, there had been an amicable but defined tug-of-war between the two of them. There always seemed to be some sort of mild conflict—Lexi's annoyance when Patty laid out yet another path for her, and Patty's frustration when Lexi didn't follow it to a tee.

For the rest of the meal, he managed to steer the conversation away from both the case and Lexi's mother. After the leftover pizza had been split between two boxes, Lexi stood and gathered her purse from where it hung on the back of her chair. “I'll meet with you tomorrow morning. We've got a lot of phone calls to make.”

“I'll have my dialing finger warmed up and ready.”

She hooked her purse over her shoulder and began moving toward the door. “If we find out this is a link between the cases, we need to somehow get the word out to women in the twenty-to-twenty-five age group.”

“And somehow keep the killer from knowing what we're doing.”

“That's the hard part. If we go to the press, there's too good of a chance we'll tip him off.”

He swung open the door and held it for her as an idea popped into his mind. He flashed Lexi a scheming smile. “Where can we find a lot of people in that age group all together?”

She returned his smile, her eyes widening. “College.”

“We've got several in the county.”

She nodded. “Polk State, Warner, Florida Southern, Southeastern...”

He continued laying out the plan. “We'll pass out flyers asking women to call if they get stopped by an officer but not ticketed. And we'll ask them to pass along the info to all of their friends.”

“And if we get a lead, we'll stake out the girl's house and wait for the killer to strike.”

He nodded, trying to ignore the vise that had suddenly clamped around his stomach. Somehow the thought of Lexi participating in a stake-out for a killer didn't sit well with him. But it was her job. She was trained for it, just as he was.

She pressed her key fob and the locks on the blue Mazda clicked open, accompanied by a beep. She turned to face him at the door. “But first we've got to find out whether the other victims had been stopped.”

“And we'll start that tomorrow.”

He smiled down at her. She seemed to stand a little straighter and anticipation had replaced the fatigue in her eyes.

Warmth spread through his chest and he fought back the urge to pull her into his arms. He would do anything to take some of the load off her.

Because no matter what happened, there would always be a soft spot in his heart where Lexi was concerned.

SEVEN

P
alms rose skyward, fronds swaying in the gentle breeze. Beneath, wide walks stretched past beds filled with lush greenery and overflowing with color. Spring in Florida was always beautiful, but Southeastern University went all out.

Lexi fell in behind a group of students moving around the campus, talking and texting. She could be one of them, except for the uniform. And the pistol at her side.

For the past several days she and Alan had contacted friends and family members of the other victims. Three out of four of the women killed had mentioned getting pulled over and having their licenses run. And there was no record of any of the stops. So today she and Alan were hitting the colleges.

She removed her phone from her purse and pulled up a familiar number.

Alan answered on the third ring. “How's it going?”

“I'm finished. Just leaving Southeastern.” She had taken Winter Haven and Lakeland and given Alan the rest of the county. “How about you?”

“I'm headed to Webber. That's my last stop.”

“Good.”

“Everyone's been really cooperative. The office staff has promised to get the flyers into the hands of the professors to distribute to all the students. I've even had a couple offer to do all the copying.”

“Same here. They're willing to do anything they can to help protect their students.”

She looked down at the stack of pages she held. Help Us Catch a Killer stretched across the top of the page. Below that, the first paragraph revealed the same details the sheriff had given at the press conference. The second mentioned the traffic stops, with a request that anyone stopped and not ticketed by a cop in an unmarked vehicle call the number printed at the bottom. It was Lexi's cell phone number, something she'd had to fight Alan for. He had insisted that publicizing her number put her in unnecessary danger. She had insisted that it was her case, and if a young lady got stopped, she wanted to know any hour of the day or night. She'd won.

“Let me know when you finish at Webber.” She slid into the driver's seat of her Mazda and closed the door. “After that, we wait and hope for our big break.”

A beep sounded in her ear and she glanced at the display. “I've got a call coming through—352 area code.”

“That's north of here.”

Ocala.
Her pulse picked up speed. Maybe Denise had remembered something else. She switched the call over.

“Hey, Lexi? It's Denise.”

It was only four words, but the strength behind them surprised her. Denise no longer sounded like a petrified adolescent. The time spent in horse country was doing her good.

“I remembered something else. I don't know if it's important, but I wanted to let you know, just in case.”

“That's great. Anything you can tell us might get us that much closer to catching this guy.”

“Well, when he went to the trunk, I saw a piece of paper sitting in the console. It had a list of girls' names. Some of them were crossed out.”

Her heart was pounding in earnest now. “Do you remember any of the names?”

“Lysandra.”

“What?”

“Lysandra.
L-y-s-a-n-d-r-a.
I remember it because it's so unusual.”

Lexi pulled a pen and pocket memo pad from her purse. “Tell me everything you can about this list, starting at the top.”

“The first four or five names were crossed out.”

“Do you remember any of them?”

A long stretch of silence passed before Denise finally answered. “Tiffany. Tiffany was one of the crossed-out names. And Amber. That's all I remember.”

“You're doing great. How about the rest of the names?”

“Lysandra was next. Then Jeanie. There were two or three others, probably nine or ten names total, but I don't remember any of the others.”

“Anything else you can remember?”

“No, that's all.”

“You did great. That helps us a lot.” If she had given them a list of Janes and Anns and Marys, they wouldn't have had any useful information. But Denise was right. Lysandra was an unusual name. Which greatly increased their chances of finding the killer's Lysandra.

Tonight Lexi would call Alan. Denise had told her at the hospital that the killer kept calling her Jeanie and saying that it wasn't her time yet. It wasn't her time yet, because Lysandra was supposed to be next. Or someone who represented Lysandra.

Tomorrow she would start a nationwide search of the name. Since the killer was choosing women between the ages of twenty and twenty-five and the offense happened ten years earlier, they were probably looking for someone in the thirty to thirty-five age range.

She dropped her phone into her purse and cranked up the car. As strains of Evanescence filled the confined space, her spirits lifted and she opened her mouth to sing along. It was the first real hope she'd had since learning that their Martin Jeffries lead was dead.

She pulled onto Longfellow belting out the notes, unable to tamp down the excitement.

If they could find this Lysandra, she could probably lead them to the killer.

* * *

Lexi slid the dish of tuna-and-noodle casserole into the oven and closed the door. Three sets of eyes watched her, and Suki let out another yowl.

“Okay, you're not going to starve before I get your food dished up. I promise.”

The vocal Siamese responded with another indignant meow, while Midnight paced back and forth across the kitchen. Itsy lay in the corner, patiently waiting. Except her nondemanding pose was probably due more to laziness than patience.

Just as Lexi put the three dishes on the floor, the doorbell rang. Unease sifted over her, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. She didn't get a lot of visitors. At least unexpected ones. And the note from the killer, or someone posing as the killer, had put her a little on edge.

She tried to shake off the uneasiness. The note was probably nothing more than an idle threat, trying to scare her off the case. Or a prank. Besides, the killer didn't know where she lived. She hadn't had any traffic stops.

She moved through the foyer and checked the peephole. Prank or not, she wasn't unlocking the door without knowing who stood on her porch.

It was Alan. She swung open the door.

“What are you doing here?”

He flashed her a teasing smile. “You told me to let you know when I was finished at Webber.”

“What I had in mind was a phone call.”

“I also wanted to find out what you learned from Denise. And this was right on my way home. Sort of.”

She backed away from the door to let him in.

“Mmm, something smells good.”

“Tuna casserole.”

He held up both hands. “Don't worry, I'm not going to invite myself for dinner.”

“No, you're just going to drop hints and hope I will.”

She walked into the kitchen and pulled two plates and glasses out of the cabinet. The company would be nice. Eating alone meal after meal sometimes got old. Besides, they had strategies to discuss.

Alan slid into one of the kitchen chairs. “So tell me what you learned from Denise. At least, I assume that was Denise who called.”

“It was. It seems our killer is working off a list.”

“What kind of list?”

“Girls' names. Denise saw it in the console the night he abducted her. She said the first four or five names were crossed off.”

“I'm guessing it was five.”

“Yeah, me, too, one for each of the girls killed. Then there were another four or five names that weren't crossed off yet.”

“His remaining victims.”

“Yep.” She dropped a pot holder in the center of the table and sat opposite him. “The next name on the list is Lysandra, then Jeanie.”

Alan nodded slowly. “So we can probably assume Lysandra is next, or someone who represents Lysandra. Unless he deviates.”

“My guess is he won't deviate again, especially after this last time. He almost got caught. Besides, he's too methodical.”

The oven timer began to beep and she rose from the table. “That would be the dinner bell. You've probably figured out you're invited.”

“Yeah, the second place setting sort of gave it away.”

She took the casserole from the oven, and after putting a serving spoon into it, placed the dish in the center of the table.

Alan piled a spoonful onto each plate. “I'm so glad you didn't throw me out after letting me smell this for the past fifteen minutes. That would have been cruel.”

“I wouldn't want to be accused of being cruel.” She scooped a steaming mouthful onto her fork and blew on it. When she looked across the table at Alan, he was sitting with his head bowed. She raised her brows. He hadn't done that at Pappy's. Or maybe he had and she just hadn't noticed.

She waited until he opened his eyes and picked up his fork. “So when did you get religious?”

“About five and a half years ago. I had hit bottom, basically messed up my life. My personal life anyway. I figured I could use some help straightening things out. At least not digging myself in deeper.”

“Did it help?”

“It did. Praying for divine guidance in decisions makes all the difference in the world.”

Maybe so. But it didn't take divine guidance to know that getting Lauren pregnant would be a bad idea. She could have told him that up front and saved him some heartache.

She scooped another bite onto her fork. “I'm glad it's working for you.”

“It's for anyone who wants to accept it, you know.”

Yeah, she knew that. Her parents hadn't taken her to church; her mom had been more into attending social events. But Lexi had occasionally gone with friends. And she'd actually listened. She'd liked the songs and the stories and the kindness of the people. She'd even prayed some. That was when she and God were still on speaking terms, before Prissy and Dad and Kayla.

“So what did you pray for?”

“Thanked God for the food, asked for help finding Kayla's killer.” His eyes locked with hers and held. “Prayed for a chance to undo some past mistakes.”

Her gaze fluttered to her plate. “There were mistakes on both ends. But it's all in the past.” She once again met his eyes and offered him a weak smile. “Let's just leave it there. We have a case to solve.”

Alan nodded, but there was reluctance in the motion. “So we have names. What next?”

“We do a nationwide search for women named Lysandra, then eliminate anyone over the age of forty and under the age of twenty-five.”

“And we pay some Lysandras a visit.”

“Or at least make some phone calls.”

After seconds had been served and eaten, Alan stood to clear their empty plates. “Thanks for feeding me, even though I sort of invited myself. That wasn't my intent when I dropped by. The aroma sort of roped me in.”

“No problem. It gave us a chance to bring each other up to speed on everything.”

He stepped onto the porch. “Lock this door behind me.”

“Believe me, I will.”

As she watched him walk to his car, an unexpected longing rose up from within. And the past that she had successfully avoided all through dinner surged forward with a vengeance.

At one time, he was her life. She'd loved him with all her heart and had known without a doubt that they would someday commit to spending the rest of their lives together. Unfortunately,
someday
had arrived sooner for him than it had for her.

Now, six years later,
someday
seemed set off in some distant universe. Because regardless of what she felt for Alan, and no matter how desperately she longed for something more, nothing had changed.

Nothing had changed, yet everything had changed. Instead of leaving home for the first time, ready to experience long-awaited independence, she had become solidly set in her way of life—solitude, freedom, no one to consider except her cats.

Was she ready to give that up?

Would she ever be?

* * *

Alan laid aside the spy novel he had been reading and picked up the remote. He had checked out the movie lineup earlier and actually found something that spurred his interest.

It was another Friday night at home. What had once been a rare event was becoming a regular occurrence. But ever since Lexi had come back into his life, at least on a professional level, frequent casual dating didn't hold the appeal it once had. Besides, he didn't have the time. He was sort of working two jobs—official Harmony Grove police officer and unofficial Polk County Sheriff's Office assistant detective.

But he wasn't complaining. He was actually enjoying his dual role. Searching for clues. Uncovering the mystery one layer at a time. Working side by side with Lexi. The last was the most appealing of all.

The hours they were spending together had gone a long way toward mending shattered bridges. The long-term tension between them had all but dissipated, and during unguarded moments, slivers of emotion slipped past her defenses. He could see it in her eyes—signs of what had been there all those years ago. When this was over, maybe they could continue a relationship. Friendship, at least. But he hoped for more. Much more.

He clicked the remote and opening credits filled the screen. Soon other music mixed with the orchestral score streaming through the surround sound. Lexi was calling. He muted the volume on the TV.

A series of steady beeps came through the phone, followed by the thud of a door closing. She had apparently just gotten into her car. “Hey, I'm leaving Mom's. We had dinner together. Are you home?”

“Yeah.”

“Alone?” The last word came out with a little hesitation.

“Yeah, I'm alone. What's up?”

“When Mom started getting overbearing, I excused myself, told her that you and I had some work to do on Kayla's case.”

Alan smiled. Where Lexi's mother was concerned, a means of escape never hurt. “I'll be glad to help supply your getaway excuse. You want to stop by?”