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Authors: Desiree Holt

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Her
eyes widened with fear as she looked at him, then around the one room cabin.

“I’ve
been watching you.” He laughed when she tugged at the restraints and disbelief
mingled with the fear in her eyes. He knew what she was thinking. He was
everyone’s friend, a pillar of the community. Well respected. His best
disguise.

“I
think anticipation is part of the enjoyment, don’t you, Gaby?” He laughed as
she struggled more, but he’d tied her good and tight. “Yes, I’ve found that to
be true. So I’m going to leave you here for a while, to contemplate the exciting
things we’re going to do together. But I won’t be long.”

He
started toward the door but turned back. “Oh, and don’t count on anyone
accidentally finding you. If anyone ever knew about this place, they’ve long
since forgotten. No, you’ll be nice and safe until I get back. See you in a
little while.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter
Twenty-Nine

 

Cole
looked at his watch. Again. Scott and Nita had been closeted in the conference
room for nearly two hours, and he wondered if they were making any progress
reviewing all those cases. If they had something to tell him, they would, but
all of this was making him very jittery. Probably because of Dana.

He’d
busied himself with paperwork. Making phone calls. Fending off questions from
his deputies. Finally, at eleven o’clock he gave it up and told Grace he was
going to Harry’s. “Call me there as soon as the door to the conference room
opens. I can be back here in five.”

“Got
it.”

He
clapped his Stetson on as he headed toward the door. “Where’s Gaylen?”

“In
his office.”

Cole
stopped in the doorway to the small cubicle. “Care to go to Harry’s with me? I’m
about to jump out of my skin.”

Gaylen
shook his head. “I’ve put off these traffic reports too long. My boss might
fire me.”

Cole
chuckled. “That’ll be the day. Okay, I’ll be back soon.”

The
pre-lunch crowd was beginning to fill up the restaurant when he swung open the
door to Harry’s. He spotted Adele and Tate Bishop in a booth toward the back
and headed toward them.

“Twice
in one day,” he joked with his uncle.

Adele
slid over to make room for him, leaning toward him to plant a kiss on his
cheek.

“We
hardly see you these days, Cole,” she complained. “The other night you took off
before I could hardly say hello. Do I have to come into town at the crack of
dawn like Tate does to have a meal with you?”

He
took off his hat and reached around her to put it on the little ledge next to
the booth, giving her a quick hug as he did so. “Just as soon as I get this
case put to bed, you won’t be able to get rid of me.”

“You
work too hard,” she told him.

“The
boy’s in the middle of a mess, Del,” Tate pointed out. “Leave him be. When he
gets it put away, he’ll need a dinner to patch him back up.”

“I’m
not used to seeing both of you in town in the middle of the day,” Cole
commented. He accepted coffee from the waitress then waved her away.

“Adele
had an eye doctor’s appointment,” Tate explained. “She had to have her eyes
dilated so she can’t drive. I’m playing chauffeur.”

“Besides,”
she grinned, “this way I get a free lunch.”

Cole
was about to lift his mug when someone stuck a folded newspaper under his nose.
He looked up to see John Garrett standing beside him.

“Hot
off the presses,” the older man told him. “Let me know what you think.”

“I
will. Thanks.” He unfolded the paper and began the front-page story.

“Would
you like to join us, John?” Adele asked.

“Maybe
just for a minute.”

But
before he could slide into the booth, another man called to them. Cole looked
up to see Jed Nickels standing next to John. The man was nearly as tall as both
Tate Bishop and John Garrett, but he’d let himself go somewhat to seed
physically when he’d left office. His belly pushed a little too hard against
his belt and a double chin softened his jawline. The former sheriff nodded to
everyone.

“I
stopped by your office, Cole, and Grace told me you were here. I thought I’d
see if that FBI man was doing you any good.”

Cole
laid the newspaper down on the table. “I’ll let you know in a little while. He’s
going over the crime reports and the autopsies with Nita right now. I got antsy
waiting around, so I came over here to get some relief from that poison Grace
brews.”

He
stopped himself just short of mentioning what was happening with the old cases.
He didn’t want Jed to think they were second-guessing him after all this time
until he had something concrete to go on.

“Well,
give me a call if you need me.” Jed winked at him. “I still might have an idea
or two, no matter how old I am.”

Cole
reached out to shake the old man’s hand. “I don’t think you’ll ever be too old,
Jed. And I might just take you up on your offer.”

“Say,
you know this Moretti woman, Cole?”

Cole
forced himself to remain calm. “Yes. I do. Why?”

“She
called my house the other day. I hear she’s poking into those cases from long
ago.” He shook his head. “Bad business, Cole. Bad. Making a lot of people
angry. You need to tell her to quit before she gets hurt.”

Cole
clenched his teeth so tightly he was afraid his jaw would crack. “You sending
some kind of message, Jed?”

The
man looked at him for an endless moment. Then he shook his head. “Just letting
you know the climate. Well, I need to get going, then. Have to run a couple of
errands before heading home.”

“I’m
on my way, too,” Garrett said. “What do you think, Cole? About the article?”

“Good
job from what I read so far. I really appreciate it.” He looked at the others. “I
asked John to write something that would help keep the town from exploding.”

“If
I’d known everyone was here, I’d have brought extra copies,” John apologized. “I
have a stop to make, but if you go by the paper, they’ll give you one. Anyone
who wants it.”

“I
might do that,” Jed said and dipped his head in a farewell gesture. “Later,
folks.”

“We
have to get going, too,” Tate said. “I have some business to take care of this
afternoon, and I need to get Adele home first.”

“Honey,
I’d be happy to go with you,” she told him. “No sense doing all that back and
forth driving.”

“You’d
just be bored, sweetheart.” He patted her hand. “I’ll finish up as soon as I
can.”

“Boy,
do I know how to clear a room or what?” Cole joked. At that moment, his cell
phone vibrated and he looked at the readout. Grace. He clapped the phone to his
ear. “Yes?”

“You’re
being paged,” she told him.

“I’m
right there.”

****

Dana
debated stopping at Cole’s office to let him know the results of her meeting.
No, bad idea. He’d be caught up in a million things. Better to call first. Anyway,
she knew he’d be expecting to hear from her.

She
hadn’t known whether to laugh or cry when she left the Winslows and saw a
sheriff’s patrol car gliding down the road and back again. On the way to town,
it passed her, but then she spotted another one.

I’m
all right, Cole.

She
punched in his cell number, listening as the phone rang four times and then
kicked over to voice mail.

“I
know you’re busy with the FBI guy,” she said, “but I learned some things this
morning you really need to know. Please call me when you get a chance. I’ll be…at
your place. Working.” She made a couple of quick stops before letting herself
into his house with the key he’d given her. After changing into shorts and a T-shirt,
she fixed a plate with the food she’d just bought at Don’s Deli. Settling
herself at the kitchen table, she booted up her laptop and went to work.

She
tried to keep from checking her watch every ten minutes, hoping Cole would be able
to return her call soon. She really wanted to tell him more about the clowns.

****

Scott
and Nita wore identical looks when Cole walked into the conference room. Sick. Angry.
Even murderous.

“Quantico’s
already up and running with the files we faxed.” Scott sorted his notes into
piles on the conference room table. “I asked—begged—them to get the BAU on a
complete profile right away. Like yesterday. This monster’s got to be stopped.
Now.”

“Don’t
I know it,” Cole muttered.

“I
also called my office in San Antonio,” the agent added. “Sent them the same
files and asked them to do a search for cases similar to the old ones here.”

“What
do you think?” Cole asked, dropping into a chair next to him.

“I
think Dana Moretti has a valid point.” He looked across the table. “Nita?”

“Cole,
I’ve gone through every one of the old autopsy reports, line by line. Too bad
there are no photos, but I’m betting old Jed wanted to spare the parents and
the community from what’s in these things,” She motioned to the stack of
folders.

“I
don’t like pointing fingers, but there was a bad bit of police work at the
time.” Scott looked grim. “Give Cole the short version, Nita.”

She
cleared her throat and squared the stack of papers in front of her. “There are
too many similarities between those cases and the two new ones for it not to be
the same guy. Either that or it’s an amazing copycat and Mr. FBI and I aren’t
buying it.”

“Very
little of the information about these cases was ever released to the public,”
Scott reminded him. “The only one who should know the details, the only one
capable of duplicating them would be the guy responsible for the first crimes.”

Cole
rubbed his jaw, a sick feeling lodging in his stomach. “But where has he been
all this time?”

“That’s
the jackpot question. I called Clark and filled him in. He’s going to have
someone run it through the databases and see what comes up. He promised to call
me back this afternoon.”

“Good.
And thanks.”

Scott
glanced down at the files in front of him then back up at Cole. “I hate to say
this, but if this
is
the same guy from twenty-five years ago, the whole
complexion of this case just changed. You know we’ll probably be taking a
larger presence.”

“You
won’t get any argument from me,” Cole said. “I still believe Dana is his
ultimate target.” He told them about the damage to Dana’s house the day before.
“If he’s working up to her, all the more reason I want this bastard caught
yesterday.”

Scott
narrowed his eyes. “Is there something more here I should know?”

Cole
shrugged. “Not a topic for discussion. Whatever, it won’t interfere with my
focus on the case. Go ahead with what you were saying.”

Scott
began ticking things off on his fingers. “With each of his victims he’s
escalating the age. Leanne was sixteen, Shannon was older. Not much, but older.
The next one’s going to be older still. Again he’s establishing a pattern.”

“Jesus.”
Cole scrubbed his hands over his face. “How do I possibly protect every
teenager in the county?”

“You
can’t. And even if the FBI sent every man on the roster here, they couldn’t do
it, either. The best you can do is get the message out to every young girl not
to get in a vehicle or go near anyone except her parents. No matter how well
she knows the man. And with the escalation in age, you might need to expand the
parameters.”

“I’ll
have to figure out how best to do that without scaring the shit out of everyone
and causing a riot.” He pulled out his ever-present small notebook and began
jotting things down. “I can certainly call the schools. They’re back in session
today and the principals can send notices to all the teachers.”

“John
Garrett could make up flyers to post around town,” Nita suggested.

Cole
nodded. “And the post office can deliver them with the mail, too.”

“Will
they do that?” Scott asked. “The post office, I mean.”

Cole
was about to answer him when there was a knock on the door. Grace walked in
without waiting for him to say anything. Her face was so white he thought she
might be sick, and she collapsed into the nearest chair.

“Grace?
What is it? Are you okay?”

She
had to swallow twice before she could get any words out. “Stacy Corona just
called in. Gaby Marquez is missing.”

“Oh,
sweet Jesus,” Nita breathed.

Cole
went to the door and yelled loud enough to be heard on the other side of the
county. “Gaylen. Haul ass in here. And bring some water for Grace.”

He
sat back down and took Grace’s hand. Nita had moved up to the chair next to
her.

“Grace,
listen to me.” He kept his voice low and even. “This could be a false alarm.
She’s a lot older than the others. This could be something different
altogether.”

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