“I told you not to promise him anything.” Reed paused behind their prison escort’s broad shoulders to let the barred door slide open in front of them. He couldn’t wait to get Diana out of this damn prison and as far away from Dryden Kane as possible. He knew allowing her to talk to Kane was a bad idea. He’d been right and then some. Now it was all he could do to keep himself from throwing her over his shoulder and hauling her off somewhere the killer would never find her. Door fully open, the three of them stepped up to the next barred door.
Diana shot Reed a frown. “You heard Kane. The Copycat Killer has kidnapped another woman. What would you have me do? Turn my back and let her die?”
The door slid closed behind them, enclosing them in a sally port between two sets of iron bars. Trapped. Exactly how Reed was feeling right now. Trapped by Kane’s manipulations. “You’re assuming the copycat actually has another woman.”
Diana’s eyes flew wide. “You think Kane lied?”
“I didn’t say that. But I think he would say anything it took to convince you to visit.”
“You must be able to find out, though, right? I mean, can’t you check missing-person reports or something?”
“Nikki’s already on it. If this woman exists, if she’s been identified as missing, we’ll find her.” The door slid open in front of them, allowing them to continue down the long hall to the prison entrance.
“I want to help.”
She couldn’t be serious. “Like you helped with Kane?”
“What do you mean? I did help with Kane. Weren’t you paying attention?”
“Enough to hear you promise to visit him every day.”
“I didn’t have a choice.”
“You had a choice, and you made it.”
She pushed a stream of air through tight lips. “Didn’t you hear anything else he said?”
“I heard it all.” He tapped his jacket pocket, his fingertips rapping against the videotape from the camera in the interview room.
“Did you notice what he said about his lawyer? And the copycat? Did you hear him say he thought of him as a son?”
“I heard.” And his mind was already whirring wildly, trying to figure out what it all meant. Or if Kane’s slips were merely leading them down another path Kane wanted them to take.
“What are you going to do?”
As if he was going to share those thoughts with her. Or worse yet, include her in the investigation. He might not be able to keep her away from Kane, but he could insulate her from the rest. “I’m going to look into it.”
“I can help.”
They reached another set of bars blocking their way. The broad-shouldered guard, Corrections Officer Seides, punched a button on the wall and all three of them faced the camera, waiting to be buzzed through.
Reed glanced at Diana out of the corner of his eye. “Sylvie and Bryce checked into a hotel. They booked you an adjoining room.”
“I’m not going to sit around in a hotel room.”
“Yes, you are.”
“This is my fault, Reed. If I hadn’t had to find out who my birth parents were, if I hadn’t visited him in the first place, none of this would be happening.”
“You’re more powerful than I ever guessed.” He let the sarcasm slide thickly off his tongue. “Kane would have found his copycat no matter what you did.”
“Sylvie wouldn’t be in danger.”
“So that’s what this is about. Guilt?” Something he knew far too much about. “So now you’re set on sacrificing yourself? You feel you need to visit Kane daily to pay for your sins?”
“Don’t psychoanalyze me. I feel like I might be able to help. That’s all.”
“Congratulations. You helped. Now you’re going to stay safe.”
“This isn’t personal, Reed.”
“No, it’s not. In this case, it’s my job.”
“Your job is to serve and protect the citizens of Madison. Not just me, all of the citizens.”
Her words stung far more than he wanted to acknowledge. He’d given up everything to join the force, devoted everything he had to the job. Being a cop was more than what he did. Being a cop was who he was.
And no one knew that better than Diana.
“What do you want? To spend the day hanging out in a police station that smells like sewage, fetching coffee? Because if you insist on helping, that’s all I can offer.”
“Sounds like heaven.”
“Right.”
“I can’t think of a safer place for me to be than a police station, can you?”
He blew an impatient breath through his nose. He couldn’t argue there. And judging from her victorious smile, she knew it. “If that’s what you want…”
“That’s what I want.”
He waited for the last barred door to slide open. But when he and Diana stepped through it, instead of feeling relief for getting her away from Kane, he couldn’t shake the sense that he was only leading her deeper. And that there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
REED HADN’T BEEN KIDDING about the smell.
Breathing shallowly through her mouth in an attempt to combat the stench of sewer, Diana wound through misplaced desks and ripped-out ceiling tiles, a foam cup of coffee in each hand. Reed also hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he wasn’t going to let her play the role of cop. Two hours had ticked by since they’d reached the station, and the biggest thing he’d allowed her to do was make a pot of coffee. At this point, she was so frustrated, she actually needed the caffeine to calm her nerves.
She set a cup in front of Nikki and raised the other to her lips. Since Reed had been so open and sharing with her, she’d decided to return the favor. Let him get his own coffee.
Sipping her hot brew, she craned her neck, trying to get a look at Nikki’s computer screen. Late-afternoon sun slanted through the high windows in the partially underground first-floor station and glinted off the screen, hiding whatever Nikki was looking at in a blur of glaring light.
Just her luck. “Can I do something to help, Nikki?”
Nikki twisted to glance at her, her lips pressed into an apologetic expression. “Thanks for the coffee.”
“No problem.” Diana didn’t have to look in Reed’s direction to feel his glower. Reed’s partner hadn’t said much, but Diana didn’t have to be a mind reader to sense Nikki’s sentiments lay on her side. And that Reed wasn’t happy about it. She kept her eyes on Nikki. “Have you talked to Kane’s lawyer yet?”
“Can’t locate her. She’s probably out sailing on one of the lakes or whatever it is lawyers do on a Sunday around here.”
“Who is she?”
“Meredith Unger,” Reed supplied.
Nikki nodded. “She did some criminal work just out of college. But she’s stuck to corporate work since. I guess she’s branching out again with Kane.”
Diana thought back to what Kane had said about her. “What is the ‘extra’ that Kane referred to?”
Nikki shrugged. “Don’t know. She’s attractive, in a she-wolf sort of way. It could be that.”
Possible, she supposed. But that wasn’t what she’d thought of when Kane had mentioned his lawyer in the prison. “Do you think he’s manipulating her? Getting her to convey messages between him and the copycat or something?”
“I think we can assume he’s manipulating her in some way,” Nikki continued. “Kane would probably lose interest in her if he wasn’t. The rest, we don’t know. Not yet, anyway.”
“Why would she take Dryden Kane on as a client in the first place?”
Reed grunted. “The reason all of them take someone like Kane on. Notoriety. They like to see their names in the paper.”
“And some women think danger is sexy,” Nikki added.
Diana knew that was true, yet she would never understand it. All she’d ever wanted in a man was safety, tenderness, someone she could depend on. Of course, becoming too dependent turned out to be dangerous, too.
She yanked her thoughts from that painful path and focused on the missing-person reports piled on Nikki’s desk. “What are you looking for? Missing college-age women with blond hair? Like the women the copycat killed last fall?”
“We’ll tell you if we find something, Diana.”
Nikki gave Reed a guilty glance, then nodded anyway. “Usually when a serial killer kills several women who look alike, like this killer has done, it indicates the woman’s look is part of what turns him on, part of his reason for committing the crime.”
When Diana had discovered Dryden Kane was her biological father, she’d read everything she could find on serial killers. And she’d discovered far more than she’d ever thought she wanted to know. “You’re thinking the victim’s hair color and age are part of his signature.”
“Exactly. Age and hair color were the things all three victims had in common. Although we don’t know much more than that about the third victim.”
The third victim. The woman whose body had been burned and mutilated so badly, police had never been able to determine her identity. For a couple of days, they’d even believed the body to be Diana’s.
She pushed that morbid thought from her mind. “I guess my question is, whose signature are we talking about?”
Nikki tilted her head. “What are you thinking?”
Reed cleared his throat, as if warning Nikki not to go too far in including Diana.
Nikki didn’t seem fazed.
Diana pushed on. “When Kane was working up to killing my mother…” Diana swallowed. Even after all these months, she hadn’t gotten used to the idea that her father had killed her mother. Somehow that fact was more difficult to process than her father being a serial killer. She could only speculate about what that said about her.
Nikki gave her an encouraging nod. “When he was working up to killing your mother, he looked for young, blond victims.”
“Yes. So when the copycat killed these women, was he just trying to emulate Kane’s signature or is that part of his own?” Diana looked up at Reed to gauge his reaction.
Picking up his phone, he punched in a number and held it to his ear. He walked into a nearby conference room and closed the door behind him.
Diana’s cheeks heated. She didn’t have to ask what he thought of her observation. But as much as his dismissal stung, it was nothing compared to the realization that, even after all these months, looking to Reed for approval was as automatic as breathing.
Nikki leaned toward her. “Don’t let him bug you. I think it’s a good question. And I think it’s a great idea to have you help in this case.”
“You do?”
“You bet. The FBI is using more and more pro-active techniques when it comes to finding unidentified subjects. I’d say you interrogating your father has to be on the cutting edge.” Admiration filled her voice.
“You really want to get this guy, don’t you?”
Nikki smiled. “You have to ask?”
No, she didn’t. From the first time she’d met Nikki, she’d felt the hunger under that fashion-model facade. Nikki might look the part of a beautiful bimbo, but she had goals and grit. And heaven help the serial killer who got in her way. “I’m glad you’re on this case.”
“What do we have here? A mutual-admiration society?”
Diana glanced up at the sound of the deep, cigarette-roughened voice. “Detective Perreth.”
“Nice to see you, Miz Gale.” Though the growl in his voice sounded anything but pleased to see her, Reed’s old nemesis had the nerve to grin, his jowly face taking on the look of a panting bulldog. “Where’s McCaskey?”
“Right here.” Reed emerged from the conference room. “What do you want, Perreth? Come to enjoy the smell?”
“I’ve been assigned to the task force.”
“Great.”
Reed didn’t show any reaction, but Diana could guess how he felt about the news.
And how much Perreth was enjoying it. “It might be good if we coordinate what we’re going to tell the press. Starting with what Dryden Kane’s daughter is doing with her nose in the copycat case.”
“We’re not going to tell the press anything.”
“And you don’t think word about who she is will get out now that the copycat is active again?”
Reed stepped close to Perreth, his taller frame towering over the squatty detective. “In the conference room. We need to talk.”
The men filed into the conference room and shut the door behind them.
Diana clenched her teeth until her jaw ached.
Nikki laid a hand on her arm. “He’s Reed’s problem. Not yours.”
Nikki was right. Whatever bad feelings Perreth had toward her had come from his conflicts with Reed. She hardly even knew the man. Nor did she want to. His condescending attitude and the cold way he stared at her shouldn’t bother her. Of course, they did anyway.
She let out a pent-up breath and turned away from the conference-room door.
Nikki gave her an approving nod. She picked up a stack of missing-person reports from her desk and plunked them in front of Diana. “I could use your help now that Reed is busy dealing with Stan.”
Diana took the reports, not bothering to hide the smile on her face. As it turned out, that closed door worked both ways. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. Three women went missing this weekend. None of them match the copycat’s previous victims.”
“Three women? In one weekend?”
Nikki waved away her surprise. “They all went missing last night. Chances are they are shacked up with boyfriends or forgot to tell their roommate or husband where they were going. Most show up.”
“But some don’t.”
“Some don’t.”
Diana shuddered. Just last fall, she’d been missing, just like these women. If Sylvie and Bryce hadn’t kept pushing to find her, she would have been one of the ones who never showed up.
She slumped in her chair and focused on the reports. Skimming hair-color and eye-color check boxes for each of the women, she could see what Nikki meant. They didn’t match. Two of the women fell into the same college-age group as the copycat’s victims, yet one had black hair and brown eyes; the other was a redhead. The third woman was blond, but she was approaching forty.
Diana moved her gaze down the page. Skimming blood type, vehicle information and descriptions of clothes and jewelry, she landed on the section entitled Other Information. Sure enough, a roommate had reported one of the college girls missing, a husband the other. She paged to the last report detailing the older blond woman. The complainant in that case was the woman’s mother. Diana read farther on the blonde’s report. Reaching the officer’s notes, her eyes landed on the few sentences detailing the circumstances of the woman’s disappearance. “Beck’s Laundromat. That’s only a couple blocks from the restaurant where Sylvie had her reception.”
Nikki greeted her comment with raised brows.
“Kane said the copycat abducted a woman right after he dropped off Sylvie’s wedding gift.” She grabbed the videotape from Reed’s desk and stuffed it into the ancient VHS player.
The door to the conference room opened. Without looking, Diana could feel Reed’s black eyes boring into her. He didn’t say a word, as if he’d heard her comments, as if he already knew what she thought she’d found.
“He told me that right before I left. I’m sure it’s here.” She pressed Fast Forward and the images of Kane and her twitched double time on the screen. The way she’d felt while talking to him washed over her in a wave. The oppressive fear. The revulsion. The sense that whatever she did or thought, she was merely a puppet in his hands.
Even with the sound muted, their conversation lapped against her mind. “He said something else, too.”
“What?” Reed stepped toward her and took the remote from her hand.
She let him have it, concentrating on the memories tightening her throat and rasping along her nerves. “Something about the desperation a parent feels when they’ve lost a child.”
“He was referring to Vincent Bertram kidnapping you.”
“I know. But the way he said it was weird. Pointed. What if he meant this woman, too?”
“Possible. If the copycat stalked the victim ahead of time.”
She glanced at the missing-person’s report lying on the desk. Or the copycat knew what the report said. An uneasy feeling pinched the back of Diana’s neck. She shook her head, trying to dispel the feeling and the thought that inspired it. She could feel Perreth watching her from the mouth of the conference room. She knew he beat his wife. Reed’s confronting him about it was the cause of the bad blood between them. But any other suspicions she had were pure imagination. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m reaching on that. But the location of the Laundromat is still reason to look into this further.”
Reed pointed the remote at the player. The images of her and Kane slowed to a natural cadence. On the screen, Diana started walking for the door, then suddenly turned around. Reed turned up the sound.
“What did you say?” Diana’s voice sounded tinny, like a distant echo on the tape, but her words were clear.
“He took her last night. After stopping in at your sister’s wedding reception to pay his respects.”
“The Copycat Killer?”
“Of course.”
“How do you know this?”
“I know a lot of things, Diana. Like the desperation a parent feels when kept away from a child. Especially when she needs you most. I could tell you all about it if you would visit me.”
He stopped the tape, freezing Kane and Diana on the screen. “Is that the part you meant?”
She nodded. “Do you think I’m just reading into what he said?”
“Maybe. But the location of the Laundromat is enough reason to check it out.” Switching off the television and removing the tape, he strode to his desk and plucked his suit jacket from the back of his chair. “Nikki, call me if any more reports come in.”
“Will do.”
“And keep trying to find Meredith Unger. I realize it’s Sunday, but it seems damn suspicious she picked today to fall off the edge of the earth.”
“I’ll find her.”
Reed glanced at Perreth. “We wait on the press.”
Perreth glowered in answer.
Reed didn’t seem to notice. His focus skimmed over Perreth and landed on Diana. “You’re coming with me.”
DIANA SETTLED HERSELF into the passenger seat of Reed’s sedan, secured the seat belt across her chest and peered out the bug-spattered windshield. “So what were you and Perreth discussing in there?”
Reed shifted the car into gear. Eyes glued to the road ahead, he merged with traffic flowing a block off the capitol square, but instead of turning down East Washington Avenue and heading for Nadine Washburn’s east-side home, he kept going, circling the state capitol grounds.
Diana dug her fingers into the car’s armrest. “Reed? Where are we going?” When he had asked her to go with him, she’d assumed he was taking her to question Nadine’s mother. It was beginning to look as though she should have remembered the old saying about assuming making an ass of you and me.
“You’re going to the hotel where Sylvie and Bryce are staying. They booked you a room adjoining theirs. An officer is posted in the hall. You’ll be safe there.”
“I’d be safe with Nikki at the station.”
“Yes, you and Nikki and the reporters I’m sure Perreth will try to convince the lieutenant to call as soon as I stepped out the door.”
“You think he would do that?”
Reed raised a brow.
“Okay, so he would do that.”
“We’ve been lucky to keep the fact that you and Sylvie are Kane’s daughters out of the press so far. With the copycat active again, that luck isn’t likely to hold. Especially with Perreth chomping at the bit for media exposure. Exposure that would get his name in the papers and hurt you—and by extension me—at the same time.”
Great. Media exposure would turn her and Sylvie’s lives upside down. Her head ached just thinking about it. “So what do we do?”
“Put the media storm off for as long as possible. And hope we catch the copycat. Soon.”
“So I should be helping. Not hiding.”
“You should be lying low. And that’s just what you’re going to do.”
Lying low. Staying safe. Reed’s answer to everything where she was concerned. “I need to see Nadine Washburn’s mother. I need to talk to her. If it wasn’t for Kane forcing me to visit, her daughter wouldn’t have been sucked into the nightmare she’s in now.”
“Listen to yourself.” Reed glanced at her, his nearly black eyes sharp. “You’re doing just what Kane wants you to do. He’ll threaten you and Sylvie and innocent women washing their clothing and anyone else he thinks will give him control over you. So unless you’re planning to take responsibility for the whole human race, it might be more advantageous to focus on your visit with him tomorrow rather than beating yourself up.”
She took a deep cool breath. He was right, as much as she hated admitting it. She needed to put her energy where she could have the greatest chance of stopping the copycat.
And Kane.
“So how am I supposed to focus on tomorrow while I’m sequestered in a hotel?”
“You’re supposed to rest, maybe even eat something.”
Fat chance of that. She didn’t feel the least bit hungry. And although she was exhausted, she knew she’d never be able to fall asleep. Not tonight. But maybe there was another way she could prepare herself for tomorrow’s meeting with Kane. “We’re going to my apartment first, right?”
“Your apartment?” He shook his head. “I want you safe at the hotel, not in an apartment that isn’t security locked.”
“I need clothing, maybe a toothbrush and some other stuff. Don’t you think?”
He ran a hand over his face. “I suppose. Sure.” He made a turn and pointed the car in the direction of her apartment.
Diana leaned back against the headrest. Clothes and a toothbrush would be nice, but it was the other stuff she was most anxious to pick up. She’d done a lot of research into serial killers and Dryden Kane after she’d learned he was her biological father. She’d even gone so far as to insinuate herself into a study the university was conducting on Kane—a study directed by Professor Bertram, the man who had nearly murdered her in his quest for revenge against Dryden Kane. But while she’d worked with Bertram interviewing Kane, she’d squirreled away copies of every paper and note she’d been able to get her hands on. Copies she still had in the storage locker of her apartment building. Since Reed wanted her to prepare for tomorrow, he could hardly complain about hauling a couple of file boxes to the hotel along with her suitcase.
Reed swung the car to the curb outside the front entrance of Diana’s apartment. He switched off the ignition and they both climbed out into the humid June air, scents of moist earth and plant life thick from last night’s heavy rain.
She turned to him as he climbed from the car. “I might need your help carrying some stuff.”
“What are you planning to bring?” Reed circled the car and stepped to the curb beside her.
“If you don’t want to help carry it, you can wait in the car.”
He shot her a dry look. “Follow me.”
Stifling a sigh, she fell in behind him, walking up the sidewalk and into the lobby. Once inside, he made her wait at the door while he scrutinized every inch of the modest lobby, as if he expected a man with a gun to crawl from under the vinyl bench or pop out of one of the tiny locked mailboxes that lined the wall.
“You really think this is necessary?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he paused at the door to the stairwell and stared at the mud-tracked entry rug.
“What are you looking for?”
“Nothing. That’s just an unusual tread pattern.” He pointed at mud shaped in a wavy pattern staining the rug.
Apparently he was going to micromanage every second of her life. Even to the point of analyzing dirty rugs. “So? It poured last night.”
“But where does someone find that much mud around here?”
He had a point. The area around the apartment was covered with a lush June lawn and fresh layer of mulch in the flower beds. For the first summer in years, the street out front wasn’t torn up with construction. But while mud in the entry did seem a little odd, it still didn’t require a news bulletin. Of course, knowing Reed, he was probably just trying to frighten her. Impress on her the danger she faced if she insisted on staying at her apartment.
As if that were necessary.
Finished with the mud, he started up the stairs.
“Wait,” she said. “I need to get my suitcase and some other stuff from my storage locker.”
“The other stuff again. It had better not be too heavy.” Changing course, Reed led her down the steps into the dank coolness of the basement. He stopped at the secured door leading to the lockers for her section of the building. “Keys?”
At one time, he’d had his own. Blocking those days from her mind, Diana dug into her purse.
Down the hall, a door opened. Diana’s next-door neighbor, Louis Ingersoll, stepped out of the laundry room, hoisting a basket of clothes. As soon as he spotted Reed, his eyes narrowed. His contempt reached down the hall like a cold draft.
Diana shook her head. Explaining all that had happened to Louis was the last thing she needed. He’d been her friend in the months before her wedding, watching her apartment when she was away, clipping stories about Dryden Kane from the newspaper after he’d learned of her involvement in the research project. But since she’d broken up with Reed, their friendship had taken on an uncomfortable edge.
Or maybe she just hadn’t noticed his romantic expectations until then. “Hey, Louis.”
Louis didn’t take his glare from Reed. A flush spread up his freckled neck, turning his face as red as his hair. “Is there anything I can help with?”
“Detective McCaskey is here in an official capacity.” She shouldn’t feel compelled to explain—whether Reed was here or not wasn’t Louis’s business—but she couldn’t stand that look in his eyes. As if Reed were his enemy. As if Diana had betrayed him. She’d never meant to lead him on, but obviously that was what she’d done.
“What do you mean, an official capacity? Did something happen?”
“Nothing you have to worry about,” Reed said, words clipped.
Diana shot him a quelling look. Reed had never been fond of Louis. No doubt she’d been the only one blind to Louis’s crush. A situation remedied when he’d given her a necklace of emeralds and diamond chips for Christmas—a necklace he refused to take back.
Even now he glanced down at her throat, as if noticing her lack of jewelry, even though she’d never once worn his gift. “If there’s anything I can do, Diana, you let me know.”
“Thanks.” Fingertips hitting metal, she fished her keys out of her purse and handed them to Reed. She couldn’t wait to end this uncomfortable exchange. “We’ll talk later, okay, Louis?”
“I’ll be here.”
Reed pushed the storage-room door open, and they slipped inside, clearing the hall for Louis to pass with his laundry basket.
She let out a breath of relief.
“So he still hasn’t given up, huh?”
“Louis is my friend.”
“He might be your friend, but you are his obsession.”
She didn’t want to talk about it. The air was charged enough between her and Reed without introducing pointless jealousy into the mix.
She stepped past him and faced the rows of wood and chicken wire that formed individual storage lockers lining the walls. Snagging the keys from his hand, she strode to her locker and opened the padlock that secured the door. She’d been meaning to sort through the jumble of boxes jamming the space, but with Sylvie’s wedding and move to Madison, Diana’s last semester of grad school and the fact that she hadn’t been ready to deal with much of anything the past few months, she hadn’t been down here since Christmas.
A gossamer strand of spiderweb tickled her face. Wiping it clear, she moved several boxes before she came to the suitcase. And the pair of file boxes underneath.
Her heart stuttered in her chest.
After her experience with Professor Bertram, she hadn’t been able to look at the files she’d compiled. She’d merely shoveled the material into the file boxes and stacked them down here. The thought of sharing the same living space with them, many of which had notes written in Bertram’s hand, repulsed her.
She jingled the key chain in her hand. Suddenly she didn’t want to see those papers again. Just the thought of them brought back memories of that cabin, the darkness, the burn of the ropes on her wrists, her eventual loss of hope, of strength.
“You want those boxes?” he asked.
“I’m going to take some work with me to the hotel, too, if you don’t mind.” She could feel his skepticism without turning to look at his face.
“Fine with me.”
She bent over the first box, wrestling it out of the pile.
“What’s inside?”
“Papers,” she answered, hoping he wouldn’t probe further, yet knowing he would.
“Papers having something to do with Dryden Kane?”
She let the box plunk back to the floor. She might as well tell him her intentions. “I’m going to read through my notes from previous interviews with him. Prepare for tomorrow.”
“Is this the ‘other stuff’ you needed?”
“Yes.”
“What did you think? That if you told me what was really in the box, I’d take them?”
She gave him a look, not bothering to state the obvious.
He stroked his chin. “Your lack of trust in me is stunning.” Leaning down, he hoisted the box she’d just dropped and carried it out of the locker.
She pulled the other box out and slid it across the cement floor until it rested beside her suitcase.
The room plunged to blackness.