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STEVE’S EARLIER RACE to the beach was like a Sunday drive in comparison to his supersonic jump to Tanya’s house and the car screeched to a stop in the driveway. It was now almost five and he pounded on the front door, waking the poor folks inside the house.
Carl Angelo opened the door wearing a ratty bathrobe and a rumpled expression. “Agent Williams, is everything all right?”
“I’m sorry to wake you, but I was hoping to speak with Tanya,” he said, knowing just how strange the request sounded, but with every passing second, the sky lightened, and his heart pumped out a warning to hurry before it was too late.
“Can I ask why?”
Steve knew the truth wouldn’t settle well so he threw up a smokescreen. “Tom didn’t come home last night and I’m a little worried,” he said.
Carl’s face smoothed over, and he nodded, waving Steve inside before he disappeared upstairs. A few minutes later, he descended to the ground floor. “She already left for her morning run but I’m sure she’ll be back in a little while. I can make a pot of coffee if you’d like.”
Steve glanced at his watch and the fading darkness. “Does she jog over on the river path?”
“Yes, why?”
“I think I’ll try to catch her at the park entrance,” he said and smiled, heading for the door. “If she comes back before I talk to her, have her give the house a call.”
“Will do. I’m sure Tom is just fine,” Carl said, and Steve gave him a wave and jogged to the car.
Dread filled every pore as the horizon lightened in the distance. Shit, I’m running out of time.
He pushed a button on his car phone and the ringing filled the car followed by a sleepy baritone. “Detective O’Keefe.”
“I need some manpower,” Steve said.
After a beat of silence, “Agent Williams?”
“Yes. River Trail. He’s going to hit again on the River Trail.”
Another beat. “You got it.”
“Let them know I’ll be out there, too,” Steve said and hung up.
Where the hell was Tom?
He didn’t have time to worry about Tom and shook the thought out of his head. He pushed harder on the gas pedal, spinning to a stop in the first of many parking lots lining the jogging trail. Tanya’s car sat in the parking spot closest to the path and he parked next to it, closing his eyes and scanning the area for tendrils of thought.
Nothing.
Empty.
Silent...and his heart plummeted. He swallowed the acid lining his throat and stepped out of his car.
Maybe she was out of range; he pulled his gun out, and checked the clip before snapping it back in. He flipped the safety off, crossed to the path, and followed the footpath to the cover of the trees where the ground only appeared briefly here and there through the thick coating of leaves lining the path. Jennifer’s dream came back and he took a deep breath scanning the trees, looking for the spot. With each step, dread crept further and further under his skin.
His gaze swept from side to side, no sound, no thoughts and his heart pounded in his chest, throbbing in his temples. The sky was too light, and a sense of futility took control.
A half-mile down the path a voice yelled from around the bend, “Freeze!”
Steve moved swiftly. He flipped the safety on his gun before holstering it. He slowed feeling hostility and satisfaction radiating from the spot just out of view and he swung around the foliage toward the voice.
He froze staring at the scene in front of him.
Tom knelt with his hands in the air and Tanya’s dead body draped across his lap, half in and half out of an inlet stream, his clothing wet and blood soaked, and his horrified gaze locked on the scalped body on the ground.
Swallowing the bile lining his throat, Steve pulled out his badge and held it out for the officers on the scene. “FBI,” he announced, calling their attention, along with their gun barrels, away from Tom for a moment.
“Special Agent Williams?” the closest officer asked.
Steve nodded and scanned the muddy area where the jogging path traversed the stream, trying to reconcile Tom with the morbid scene.
“Looks like we finally caught up to you,” Officer Callaway said from behind Tom and clasped a handcuff on Tom’s wrist, twisting his arm behind his back, he securing the other wrist.
“I ia o i,” Tom said, his cheeks lined with a steady stream of tears. I didn’t do this Uncle Steve.
“You’ve got the wrong man, that’s my son,” Steve said scanning the ground for evidence that would exonerate Tom on the spot, but the stream kept the exit path of the killer a secret, like most of the prior murders.
“We found him covered in her blood,” the officer replied not moving to un-cuff Tom.
“Did you find the murder weapon and the scalp?” Steve asked, raising his eyebrow in a silent question.
“No, sir. But he could have ditched it before we got here,” Callaway said.
Steve met Tom’s gaze. “How long have you been here?” Steve signed, trying not to let his irritation show. Tom had compromised the crime scene and Steve glanced toward the river a few hundred feet away, knowing any trail they found would end at the water’s edge, but this time, he was sure the local cops wouldn’t look any farther than the boy covered with his ex-girlfriend’s blood.
“Coup miues,” Tom said. A couple minutes ago. I wanted to talk, to try to convince her to come back and when I jogged by, I saw her in the stream. I didn’t know it was her until I saw the bracelet and then I tried to get her out of the water and slipped and that’s when the police showed up. Did you see what that bastard did to her?
He knew. He had seen half a dozen victims over the last year in the same condition, all left in remote areas, and all with water access. He crouched and took Tanya’s wrist, checking for a pulse he knew wasn’t there. Even if she had a pulse, his power to heal wouldn’t bring her face back. A limitation he learned with Tom. If it’s gone, it won’t grow back no matter how much mojo Steve pumped into the person. And he certainly couldn’t resurrect the dead.
Tom bit his lip and blinked, sending another trail of tears down his smudged cheeks while the cops read him his rights. I used to run with her on this trail and if we hadn’t broken up...
You would have been with her, Steve finished the thought and took a deep breath, keeping the anger and worry at bay. Everyone was itching to solve the Windwalker case and Tom just handed them an easy scapegoat.
Did you see anything? Steve asked, sending the thought and the ball of stress tightened at Tom’s shake of his head.
Steve stood, meeting Officer Callaway’s gaze. “He isn’t the killer.”
Tom took another glance at the body and visibly shuddered.
“Until we find evidence to the contrary, we’ll be keeping him in custody,” Callaway said and pulled Tom away from the scene.
Steve nodded and snapped his gaze to Tom. “Don’t say anything until I get there, Tom.”
Officer Callaway glared at Steve a moment and then continued on his way down the path, leaving the other officer to secure the scene.
Steve turned away, following the stream looking for signs of evidence to exonerate Tom but the muck on either side of the waterway along with the turning tide eradicated any signs of evidence. At the mouth of the river, he scanned the water with both his eyes and his mind and nothing stirred but an eerie silence.
Anger danced over his skin, seeping into his bones. “You bastard! I swear I’ll find you. You hear me?” he bellowed, and the echo reached the far side of the river and beyond.