Seth dropped another bombshell before she’d recovered from hearing the grisly details of her patient’s untimely demise.
“There was a note under Mrs. Zarnowski’s body.”
“God.” Molly pressed a hand to her stomach, then leaned forward in her seat. “What did it say?”
“John wants you to go back on television so he can talk to you.”
Her stomach turned. Lurched, actually. The mere notion that some violent predator was giving her directions as if she was some sort of puppet was disconcerting to say the least. Especially knowing what he’d done to at least two women that they knew of, in the past twenty-four hours.
“He probably wants to see your face,” Chandler added. “See what effect his murders are having on you. But if you want my two cents,” Chandler snapped at his brother, “no way in hell is Molly going back on air so this sicko can see her face across a twenty-four-inch screen and gauge her reaction to these murders.”
“I didn’t ask her to do so,” Seth said, looking a little surprised at his brother’s outburst. “I just repeated what was in the note.”
Thanks, that helps. I’m not freaked out. “This makes no sense,” she insisted, standing to pace in the small confines of Seth’s office “I truly don’t have this kind of enemy in my life.”
“What kind do you have?” Chandler asked.
She shook her head. “I didn’t mean it like that. Forget enemies. I don’t have that many close friends. Unlike you, I’m a very private person.”
“Or,” Seth countered, “he could be targeting Chandler.”
Molly stopped and regarded the younger of the two brothers. Now, that made some sense. It made sense, but her stomach still clenched. As strongly as she didn’t want to be the target of somebody’s hatred, she didn’t want that kind of psychopathic behavior directed at Chandler, either.
But it did make some sort of twisted, creepy sense. Chandler was on television, the perfect medium to attract the fixation of some unbalanced soul. “And your show is on channel thirteen. Your image is in homes almost every day.”
“And the note was addressed to him.”
Seth’s revelation stunned her. “To Chandler?”
The sheriff nodded. “But we’re holding that back. Once this story gets into the media, all sorts of crazies—sorry—come out of the woodwork. The note will be how we weed out the nut jobs—sorry again—from true leads.”
“So, I’m not the target,” she insisted, then pointed at Chandler. “He is.”
Seth shrugged. While the gesture seemed casual and unconcerned, as someone trained to read body language, Molly could see that the sheriff was extremely concerned. “We don’t know yet.”
Annoyance and anxiety enveloped her entire body. It wasn’t Seth’s fault; he was doing what he could. But the impotence of just waiting was stretching her nerves. “When will you know?” she asked as calmly as her internal voice screamed.
“When we catch him, or when he makes his next move.”
Not exactly comforting. “So we just wait?”
“With appropriate protection,” Seth explained.
Her shoulders slumped forward. “What does that mean?”
“A deputy will be with you.”
“It’s for your own protection,” Chandler added.
“That goes for you, too,” Seth told his brother.
Molly heard his derisive snort. “Like hell. I can take care of myself.”
“How very macho and stupid,” Molly remarked, though secretly she shared some of the sentiment. She didn’t relish the thought of having a stranger shadowing her, every waking hour. But unlike Chandler she wasn’t a fool. If this man was after either of them, having an armed deputy close by would make her feel a lot safer. It might also prove to be a deterrent.
The thought that it might not made her press her hand to her midriff.
“This isn’t up for debate,” Seth continued. “The two of you will have protection round the clock.”
Stepping forward, Molly placed her fingertips against the smooth surface of the desk and leaned closer to Seth. “There has to be a better system. My patients will not like having an armed guard in the waiting room. My students won’t listen to word one of my lectures with a deputy present. We have to come up with a better plan.”
“Sorry,” Seth replied.
She could tell that he wasn’t sorry in the least. She saw the determined set of his chin and realized she was fighting a losing battle. So she switched gears. “Can we set some parameters?”
Chandler gave her a hard look. “No.”
“Such as?” Seth asked, overriding Chandler’s knee-jerk answer to the question not directed to him.
“I don’t want anyone in uniform, and I don’t want any of my patients questioned.”
“Plainclothes will be fine. But if there’s something suspicious about a patient—”
“There won’t be. Second, I don’t want anyone in my house.”
“Molly,” Chandler began, “that isn’t reasonable.”
“Sure it is.”
“No,” Chandler insisted, standing to tower over her. “It isn’t. Your town house has two points of entry. Playing by your rules would mean utilizing two officers, one for the front, one at the back. This isn’t Helena, Molly. Seth only has five deputies, so you’ll have to suck it up and let a deputy bunk on your couch.”
“And you don’t have a problem with all this?”
“We aren’t talking about me, but no.” He flashed her an amazingly annoying grin. “I don’t have a problem because I’m not accepting any protective detail.”
“That’s stupid. What if you really are John’s target?”
Chandler rolled his eyes. “Then John will be sorry. I can handle myself.”
“I’ll just sit back and listen,” Seth said, his voice tinged with amusement. “Let me know when the two of you are finished.”
“I think your overconfident, testosterone-addled brain is affecting your decision-making ability,” she insisted above the sound of her anger pounding in her ears. “This isn’t a litmus test of your manliness, Chandler. John is obviously an organized killer who plans his kills with militaristic precision.” She had a sudden insight. “Maybe he’s military. Or ex-military. He sounds young, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t have been trained by or served in the armed forces for a couple of years. Maybe he was dishonorably discharged. That would make sense if he’s as unstable as his actions imply.”
“I’m already checking that angle,” Seth said.
“If he was in the military, he probably has a history of trouble. His anger toward authority figures was apparent in his phone call to the TV station. He would have had great difficulty following orders.”
“That happens,” Chandler commented, almost sarcastically.
Molly felt her eyes narrow as she glared up at him. “I’m trying to help here and you’re mocking me. In case you’ve forgotten, I am an expert on human behavior.”
“But,” Seth inserted, “he’s the one with the military expertise.”
“Wh-what?” Molly stammered.
Seth came around and draped a brotherly arm across Chandler’s broad shoulders. “He doesn’t like to talk about it—which is true of many aspects of his life.” Seth paused as Chandler delivered an elbow to his ribs. “Ow. Chandler was Special Forces, Molly. Desert Storm, Rwanda, Mogadishu. Has a whole drawerful of medals and a bullet in his leg to prove it.”
“No big deal,” Chandler dismissed.
Molly knew better. She’d counseled a few veterans and knew a little about the horrors faced by the soldiers in combat. “I had no idea. I’m sorry for—”
“Forget it,” Chandler insisted. “And you,” he added, poking his brother’s chest, “can forget sending any of your deputies along with me. I can handle myself. I’ve got to get to the station.”
“I wish you’d reconsider,” Seth argued, albeit halfheartedly.
“Wishing won’t make it so,” Chandler said before heading out the door.
His departure left a huge void in the room. Molly pushed that thought out of her head and retook her seat. Chandler was a puzzle. A complicated, gorgeous puzzle. Damn! Just what she didn’t need just now.
“Listen, Molly,” Seth began, “I know your files are confidential, but it would really help if you could let me take a look at—“
“Not possible,” she told him. “I’m sorry. I can’t break confidence, Seth. You know that.”
“I’ll accept it, for now. But I’m leaving that door open.”
His tone and smile were equally reasonable, so she agreed. “I won’t let you go through them, but I’ll certainly begin doing it myself.”
“Start with the court-ordered cases,” he suggested. “I doubt John suddenly decided on a life of crime. You’ve probably had contact with him—“
“Assuming I’m the target and not Chandler,” she reminded him. “It actually makes more sense for him to have an issue with your brother. He’s the public figure.”
“To a degree,” Seth remarked.
Degree? she silently wondered. Odd way to describe a man who, when he wasn’t on air, had his image plastered all over the place in ads and promotions for the station. Chandler Landry couldn’t have any secrets, his life was too communal for that to be a reasonable possibility.
Seth was smiling at her. “What? You don’t think a TV reporter can have a private side?”
“I think it would be…difficult,” she admitted. Molly was choosing her words carefully; after all, the sheriff was Chandler’s brother.
He gave her a far too innocent look as he said mildly, “People aren’t always what they seem on the surface.”
“I know that better than most.” She narrowed her eyes. “Wait. Are you insinuating that your brother leads some sort of secret life?”
Seth laced his fingers behind his neck and gave the appearance of complete ease. Except for the twinkle she saw in his eyes. What did that mean?
She shouldn’t care. She didn’t. Right? Wrong, her brain answered as she asked her question. “Does he have some deep secret?”
“Landry family ties prevent me from commenting one way or another,” Seth replied easily. “We don’t tell tales out of school.”
“But there is a tale to be told?”
Seth simply shrugged. “Chandler’s a complicated man. Probably the smartest of the lot of us. But I’ll deny I ever said that if you repeat it to him.”
“I won’t. Besides, your comment implies that I’ll have reason to speak to your brother again, and frankly I don’t see that happening.”
“Except for this whole John thing.”
Molly felt a chill tingle the entire length of her spine. “There is that,” she admitted. “But any conversations we have regarding John wouldn’t include topics of a more…intimate nature.”
Seth tossed his head back and laughed. “Good luck with that, Doc. I’ll break the family code long enough to tell you that Chandler has set his sights on you. He can be an unrelenting cuss when he thinks he wants something.”
Thinks he wants something? Was that some none-too-subtle way of letting her know she wasn’t Landry-worthy? Well, they could all rot! She may not have more money than God, or a multigenerational pedigree, but she wasn’t exactly pond scum.
She stood with the dignity befitting a queen, then said, “Will there be anything else?”
“Hang on,” Seth scrambled to her side. “I said that wrong. I was just offering a friendly warning. Chandler is a great guy and he’d be lucky to have someone like you in his life. Hell, any man would be. Except me, of course. I’m a happily married man.”
Her ire subsided. By force of habit, she began to analyze her reaction. Overreaction was a better word. She’d gotten all prickly because…why? “It doesn’t matter,” Molly insisted, hoping to end this strange conversation. “I’m not interested in Chandler, so he’ll just have to redirect his sights.”
“That was my point. My brother doesn’t give up easily, and, well, I like you, Doc. You’ve been really decent to my family. You were a huge help with Kevin. I know how hard you worked to help him understand his kidnapping. He doesn’t have a single scar or maladjusted moment.”
She recalled the darling tow-headed little boy who’d been thrust into a difficult situation. Though there was always the possibility that he’d have issues later, thus far, he’d shown an amazing resilience. Possibly—in part at least—the large and loving environment created by the Landry clan. “He’s a wonderful little kid.”
“Agreed. And in many ways so is Chandler.”
Not so little, she thought. “A kid? Your brother?”
“Just in some respects,” Seth continued hurriedly. “Chandler is a deep, thoughtful guy a lot of the time but he’s also the poster child for instant gratification. I love him more than life, but, well, his track record with women isn’t so hot.”
Yeah, like she needed that news flash. “His reputation is quite well…documented.”
“He bores easily,” Seth explained. “When it comes to women, he has the attention span of a water gnat. He likes the chase. I shouldn’t be saying all this. I really only wanted to give you a heads up.”
“My head is always up,” she promised him. “And for your information, I crossed him off my potential date list about six seconds after we met.”
Seth seemed to be struggling to keep from laughing. “I kinda figured that. However, with my brother, that’s like wearing a big sign that says Try Harder.”
“I’m sure he’s a nice guy, but stop worrying, Sheriff. I can say no with the best of them.”
“Good luck.” The telephone on his desk rang. He spoke—grunted actually—for a few seconds, then said, “You can pick your stuff up out in the reception area. But your office is still being processed. Deputy McClain will be escorting you home or wherever you have to go.”
“Home,” she announced rather forcefully. “I don’t have any classes today, so I think I’d like to go home and relax.”
“Good idea,” Seth agreed. “If you’d like, I can arrange for a specialized cleaning crew to go to your office.”
“Don’t go to any trouble. I can just call Ferris and have them take care of it.”
His expression grew solemn. “You can, but the company I was talking about has expertise in cleaning up crime scenes.”
Molly shivered. “Right. Yes. Okay.”
Seth placed his hand on her shoulder. “I know this has been tough. We’ll catch him, Molly.”
THE DEPUTY ASSIGNED TO HER was a mannish-looking woman Molly put somewhere in the vicinity of her late twenties. Her hair was short—shaved at the nape, in fact. She had a reluctant smile and an air of efficiency that Molly appreciated, given the circumstances. Though she didn’t talk much, the deputy was a woman of decisive action. When they went by to retrieve Molly’s car, the deputy went over it with a fine-tooth comb. She checked under the hood, used what looked like a gigantic dentist’s mirror to check the undercarriage, then finally announced it was safe for Molly to drive.
Once in the familiar interior of her car, Molly glanced down at her suit. It was the second casualty of the day. Along with the coffee stains, she now had the remnants of fingerprint dust smudged everywhere her purse and briefcase had touched.
The day was slipping away, as well. The last splinters of sunlight were fast sinking behind the mountain as she drove back toward her home.
She’d barely exited the parking lot—which was still home to several crime scene vans—when her cell phone rang. Blindly, Molly felt around in her purse until she found the phone, then brought it to her ear. “Hello?”
“Please tell me you are all right.” Gavin’s concerned voice crackled in her ear. “I’ve been calling you for hours.”
“I’m fine, but I didn’t have my phone with me.” She filled him in on the events of the day.
“It would have been nice if one of the officers had answered the cell phone just to let me know you weren’t available,” Gavin complained.
“It was in the lab,” she explained. “It probably didn’t ring. You know the cell service rarely works inside buildings.”
“Something I believe should be addressed by the regulators.”
Only Gavin could make the lack of sufficient cell booster towers sound like a matter of national concern. “Hang on while I find my earpiece,” she said, digging into her dust-covered bag for the accessory. After connecting it, she twisted the bud into her ear and placed the phone in the cup holder built in to the console. “So, how was your day?”
“This is not a time for levity,” Gavin scolded. “I will now insist that you hire professional security. Additionally, I have arranged for your TA to cover all your classes until this…this animal is apprehended.”
“First, I don’t need private security, I’ve got a deputy glued to me for the foreseeable future.”
“That is a good start, but I know you, Molly. You won’t allow a strange man into—”
“A deputy of the female persuasion.”
“A woman?”
Molly thought about the person tailing her home. “Yes, one I wouldn’t want to meet up with in a dark alley. Believe me, if John shows up, I want this kind of woman between me and him. And Rachel doesn’t need to cover my lectures, Gavin. I’ve already decided to cancel my appointments for the rest of the week. If I don’t teach, I won’t have anything to do until Monday, and I’ll go stir-crazy with all that free time on my hands.”
“I’m sure you can find some way to occupy your time. But as your friend and the head of the department, I have to consider the safety of everyone. We simply cannot put the students at risk.”
“You’re right, of course.” Molly felt her spirits sinking. “I suppose I can find a few things to keep busy.”
“I could come over,” Gavin offered. “In fact, knowing you, you haven’t eaten. Why don’t I pick up dinner from that wretched barbecue place you’re so fond of frequenting and come to your house?”
Dear, snobbish Gavin. He detested any meal that could be eaten with the fingers. The fact that he was willing to break ribs with her made it impossible for her to say no. “I’ll be home in about ten minutes. Give me time to change. Say, sevenish?”
“I shall arrive bearing a most unhealthy meal and a bottle of wine that—did it have a conscience—would be embarrassed to share a table with a foil-wrapped slab of meat.”
Molly smiled. “Lighten up, Gavin. And get extra sauce.”
“Fine.”
“And slaw. Don’t forget the slaw.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. No decent meal is complete without slaw.”
She was still smiling as she pulled into her parking spot, followed almost instantly by the SUV driven by the officer.
“I’ll go in first,” McClain said as Molly stepped from her car. “Just hang back until I give you the all clear.”
How could she have forgotten about the deputy? She nodded an acknowledgment of the woman’s comment and then hit the redial button on her cell phone. Gavin’s line was busy. Knowing his efficiency, he was probably already placing the order. For two. Well, she would wait a few minutes and call the restaurant herself to add sufficient food to the order to feed the deputy.
She was in the process of tugging her briefcase off the seat when she heard a large bang.
Then everything went black.