Palms 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?”
“I’ll be there in less than five minutes.”
“What about the cats?”
“I took care of them before I went over to Mom’s. So they’re happy, fat and sassy.”
When he opened the front door a few minutes later he stuttered a greeting. He was so used to seeing her in uniform, a weapon strapped to her hip, her hair pulled back in either a ponytail or a tight braid. Professional all the way.
But that wasn’t who stood on his porch. This was the old Lexi, relaxed and casual in a pair of snugly fitting jeans and a scoop-necked T-shirt. Her hair fell past her shoulders in wavy blond cascades, pressed in by previous hours in a braid.
His chest tightened and his thoughts flew back to other times she’d stood on that same porch, happy and in love. The memories left him with a keen ache and a hollow emptiness.
He swallowed hard and forced an easy smile. “Come in, and let’s get started on that casework. We want to be able to tell your mother how we slaved away.”
She returned his smile. Hers didn’t seem to reflect any of the emotions that churned inside him.
He led her into the living room, where they each took a seat on the couch.
“Okay, tell me what you’ve got.”
“We found the owner of the high school ring. Definitely a dead end. He works for Wilkins Irrigation. They do work there. A month or so ago, he got to the job on a Monday morning, realized he still had his ring on and took it off and put it in his pocket. When he got home, it was gone. So he figured it was lost for good. He was really happy to get it back.”
“Did anyone check out his story?”
“Yep, Jim Wilkins himself says that the guy has worked for him for five years.”
“How about Lysandra? Anything there?”
She opened the manila file folder she had carried in. “According to my search, there are five Lysandras in the U.S. that are between the ages of twenty-five and forty. I’ve eliminated three of them. One married right out of high school and is raising her five children with her farmer husband. Not likely to have been involved in anything that created a killer. But just in case, I called her anyway. She had a friend in grade school named Amber, who she lost contact with. She has an acquaintance named Jeanie, but doesn’t know any Tiffanys. And she can’t think of any circumstances where someone might be hurt or angry enough to want to take this kind of vengeance.”
“What about the other two?”
“One’s a marketing executive and one’s a nurse. Neither of them had prior connections with the other names on the list. And like the first Lysandra, neither could think of anyone from their pasts who would have reason to do something like this.”
“So we’re striking out so far.”
She flipped to another page in the folder. “There are still two left. Lysandra Yearwood is no longer at the job that shows up for her. We’ve got a home number, but haven’t gotten an answer yet. And she apparently doesn’t have a machine. Either that or it’s turned off. We can try her again tonight.”
She turned to the last page in the folder. “The fifth is a Lysandra Tucker. She went to Florida State for one year, stayed in one of the sorority houses. Then she got busted for drugs and dropped out of school. Never went back. She’s thirty now, works as a bartender at a club over in Ybor City. And I get the distinct impression she’s avoiding me.”
“How so?”
“I’ve called three times over the past couple of days. Each time, the person who answered has told me to hang on, then comes back and says she’s not available. I even called back when she was supposed to be on break.”
“Interesting. You think she’s hiding something?”
“It certainly appears that way.” She pulled out her cell phone and pressed in the number, then put it on speaker phone.
“Club Dynamo, your place for a good time.” The words were shouted over the music blasting in the background.
Lexi glanced at him and smiled. “May I please speak with Lysandra Tucker?”
“Who’s calling, please?”
“Detective Alexis Simmons with the Polk County Sheriff’s Office.”
For several moments the only sound that came through the phone was the high-energy techno beat. The club employee’s span of silence was just enough time to flash someone a questioning gaze and receive a silent answer.
“I’m sorry, she’s not here tonight.”
“How about if I call back tomorrow evening? Will she be working then?”
“Might be. I don’t know for sure.”
Lexi ended the call and gave him a conspiratorial wink. “How about a trip to Ybor tomorrow?”
“I’m game.”
“This Lysandra isn’t going to be able to avoid us very well if we’re standing right in front of her.”
“True. And how about Lysandra number four, Yearwood?”
Lexi referred back to the page in the folder, punched in a number and pressed the phone to her ear. Several seconds later her eyes widened and she sat up straighter.
Alan waited through the one-sided conversation. She was obviously getting further with this Lysandra than the last. Finally she ended the call.
“Well?”
“We’ve just eliminated our fourth Lysandra. Same basic story as the other three. But I’m putting all my hope on this last one. There’s a reason she’s avoiding us, and my guess is it has something to do with this case.” She closed the folder and slid forward on the couch, preparing to stand.
“You want to watch a movie with me?” Of course, the movie he was planning to watch was already thirty minutes in. But for some reason, he wasn’t ready for her to leave.
“I probably should go. It’s been a long day.”
He steeled himself against the disappointment filling his chest and walked her to the door. “You know you can drop by anytime. It doesn’t have to be about the case.” He grinned down at her. “Or escaping your mother.”
“Thanks. But I don’t want to bother you.”
He rested his hand on the doorknob but didn’t open the door. “You used to never worry about bothering me.”
“Things were different then.”
Yes, they had been. Did she feel the loss as acutely as he did at the moment? He couldn’t tell. Her eyes were shielded, her emotions hidden behind the walls of professionalism.
He lifted a hand, determined to reach through those walls to the sweet, softhearted woman he had fallen in love with so long ago, and slid a finger along her jaw. “Why did you say no? Why wouldn’t you marry me?”
“I was twenty-one and had never been away from home. I didn’t think I was ready. The last thing I expected was to come back four months later and find you engaged to Lauren.” Her eyes shifted to some point on the wall next to him. “It didn’t take you long to replace me.”
There was no bitterness in her tone, but the hurt that underlined her words sliced right through him.
“I had already gotten your message.”
“What message?”
“The one you sent your mom to deliver.”
Her gaze shifted back to his. Her eyes, no longer shielded, were filled with confusion. Uneasiness sifted over him, the sense that he was about to learn that he had made a huge, life-altering mistake.
He took a deep breath. “Before you left for school, you said we should date other people. I didn’t want to, but I went along with it and did some casual dating. Every time I called you, you were heading to class or studying for an exam or had some other reason why you couldn’t talk. I thought you were avoiding me. Then came the visit from your mom.”
She stiffened and an icy hardness entered her gaze. Anger seemed to flow just beneath the surface, carefully held in check. “What did my mom say?”
“That you had met someone. That the two of you were quite serious, were even discussing marriage. She made it a point to tell me that he was studying to be a doctor and would be able to give you all the things you deserve.”
The anger erupted, surging into the open as she clenched and unclenched her fists and stalked back into the living room. He followed her, and she spun and unleashed some of that fury on him. “And you believed her? You never once thought you should verify what she said with me?”
“I’ve known your mom is manipulative and controlling. But I’ve never known her to outright lie. She convinced me you didn’t want to talk to me and that’s why you sent her. And frankly, your actions hadn’t exactly convinced me otherwise.”
“I was busy. I was carrying a full load while working part-time.” Her tone was defensive, but some of the fire had gone out of her. “I came back at Thanksgiving to tell you that I was ready, that if you were willing to wait until I finished school, I wanted to marry you.”
A lead weight slid down his throat and settled in his gut. He had thought she had finally worked up the courage to dump him herself. And the last thing he had wanted was to hear the words from her own mouth. So he had shut her down by telling her he had moved on and was marrying Lauren.
“Oh, Lexi, I’m so sorry.” He rested both hands on her shoulders, eyes pleading with her to understand. “I cared for Lauren, but I didn’t love her. When she found out you had left me, she was right there, eager to step in, pushing for marriage. I knew you were the only one I would ever love. But since I would never have you, raising a child with Lauren didn’t seem like such a bad second choice.”
She looked up at him while he spoke, eyes once again veiled. Then she twisted from his grasp and bolted toward the front door.
He called after her, but she didn’t turn back. She swung the door wide, leaped off the porch and flew down the short drive. Just before she slipped into the driver’s seat of the Mazda, he caught a glimpse of her tear-streaked face. The sight tore his heart in two.
He closed the door and sagged against the wooden jamb.
Dear Lord, what have I done?