Kaely and Noah spent the next two days carefully going through every single case she had been involved with since she started with the FBI. They finally finished late Thursday night, but they had not found anything helpful. Four days since the first murder, and they weren’t any closer to stopping this madman.
The lab sent Walker back with the letter, but he didn’t have anything interesting to tell them. No DNA, no fingerprints except Acosta’s and a few identified postal workers. Although there were cases of criminals copying other murderers, this was the first person to duplicate George Anderson. Kaely was frustrated. They had to find a way to anticipate and stop this guy.
By the time she swung by the store to pick up a few things and finally got home, it was almost ten o’clock. She was fairly certain Noah had followed her to the entrance of her condo complex, just as he had the past two nights. Although she was partially annoyed by his determination to watch her, in another sense, she found it rather comforting. It was something Alex would have done. The thought of him caused an odd prick of pain.
She grabbed her grocery bags. She had to quit thinking about Alex. It wasn’t doing any good. He wasn’t coming back. She’d learned that dwelling on things she couldn’t change was counterproductive. A huge waste of time and energy.
She grabbed her groceries, climbed the stairs, and unlocked the door to her condo. After stepping inside, she quickly locked up. She dropped her groceries on the kitchen counter. She’d picked up a roasted chicken, some macaroni salad, and some staples she needed. She put everything away except the chicken and salad. Then she sat down at her breakfast bar, pulled some pieces off the chicken, and dug into the macaroni salad with a spoon. When she was finished, she put the remainder in the fridge. The entire time she was thinking about the person who’d killed the man in the park. He had finally been identified. He was thirty-six years old and an attorney. Just like George Anderson’s victim. The killer would have had to search for someone like him, then stalk him, looking for an opportunity. This degree of organization was impressive.
The second verse of the poem kept running through her mind: Six little elephants swimming in the lake. One was slaughtered and went underwater. Five little elephants called it a day. They packed up their trunks and they all ran away.
Over the past couple of days, she’d reviewed quite a few past cases that involved water. Unfortunately, there were a lot of them. The Arkansas River Strangler. The Green River Killer. The East River was a favorite spot to dump bodies. The Everglades. The Louisiana swamps. The poem could mean anything. One thing that stuck in her head was that the first killing mentioned the word forest, but the writer was referring to something else. Was the second clue going to follow the same pattern? If so, that made it even harder. The word lake was used for towns, streets, subdivisions. . . . It was almost impossible to narrow it down.
She’d started toward her bedroom when she remembered Mr. Hoover. She should have fed him by now. She turned back toward the kitchen, where he sat in one of her chairs and stared at her. “Hang in there,” she told him. “I’ll get this right. I really will.”
She checked the front door one more time before heading upstairs. She opened the door to her workroom to drop off some papers and crime-scene photos. She switched on the light and stepped inside. Anyone else might see chaos, but Kaely knew exactly where everything was—and what it meant. The boards on the walls, the notes posted everywhere, the papers pinned up . . . they all held important information that helped her to more clearly see the evidence in whatever case she was working. Not all of the cases she studied were actually assigned to her, but she was interested in them anyway. Sometimes she sent police departments anonymous tips, and more than once her tips had led to the capture of some very dangerous criminals. She’d rather not have to work that way, but for now, it was all she could do. At least she didn’t have to hide who she really was from Solomon. He listened to her. Really listened. Other agents at the Bureau might not like her special relationship with the SAC, but she really didn’t care. She wasn’t trying to be popular. Her life was about chasing evil, not making friends.
After depositing her papers on the table in the corner, she left the room and went downstairs to her bedroom. She grabbed her sweats and T-shirt, took a quick shower, and climbed into bed, praying that tonight the nightmares would stay away. They’d started when she was a child. Since finding God, she’d prayed He’d take them away, but so far she still dealt with them from time to time. She knew He heard her prayers. Knew He wanted the best for her. He had delivered her from so many things. But when she asked Him why they persisted, she felt strongly there was something she needed to see. Something she didn’t yet understand. She couldn’t help but wonder if she’d noticed something about her father. Even sensed his true nature. Maybe her nightmares were trying to resolve whatever it was that had frightened her when she was young. But try as she might, she couldn’t bring up a memory to explain them.
Her mother had grown weary of waking Kaely up during the night when she screamed out in fear, and she’d seen the relief on her face when Kaely finally left home. Her mother had wanted nothing more than to distance herself from the real-life nightmare her husband had created for his family.
“Lord,” Kaely prayed out loud, “please show me whatever it is I need to see. Deliver me from these awful dreams. And give me insight into whoever wrote that poem. Help us to stop him before he kills again. Thanks.”
She rolled over on her side and looked at the clock next to her bed. Twelve-thirty. She’d only get a few hours’ sleep, so she needed it to be uneventful. But as soon as her eyes closed, one particular nightmare she’d had over and over made an encore.
Kaely ran down a dimly lit hallway, calling for help. Something dark, heavy, and malevolent slithered after her, whispering her name. Whatever it was entered the wall. She could hear it rustling behind the drywall, trying to keep up with her. No matter where she ran, she couldn’t get away from it, until finally, the hallway ended. There was a small door in the wall, and she ran toward it, trying to secure it so whatever was after her couldn’t get out. But it was as if she were moving through molasses, and the harder she struggled to reach the door, the slower she became. In the end, she knew the door would open and the darkness would pour out. Then suddenly everything turned red, and she couldn’t see. Although she kept fighting, trying to close the door, she couldn’t find it. Her fingers grasped frantically as she fought to hold back the evil, but instead she woke up, screaming.
Kaely sat up and swung her legs over the bed, gasping for breath. Had the neighbors heard her? A young couple lived next door. They’d never said anything, but she’d caught them looking at her strangely more than once. Her heart thundered in her chest. She put her hands up to cover it, trying to slow her breathing and pull herself together. This was getting ridiculous.
“Lord, I wish you’d hurry up and show me whatever it is I need to see,” she whispered in the dark, her voice trembling. “I hate feeling so afraid.”
Finally, she got up, drank a glass of cold water, and went back to bed. After staring at the ceiling for a while, she finally fell into a restless sleep.