“You already believe the killer is a woman. This reporter must have something no one else has.”
“Not so much what no one has, it’s how she connected the crimes, the pattern, and the way the victims were killed. And yes, I’m certain the killer is a woman. I’m going to write up a summary—I want to send it to you. See if I’m missing anything. I think she considered killing these boys a form of mercy killing, though the why I can’t figure out yet. There doesn’t appear to be a motive. The only thing these families have in common—other than they had one son—was that the fathers were having an affair. They live in different areas of the Southwest—California and Arizona—and neither parent was home during the time their son was abducted. Andrew is going to work on getting me a copy of the forensic reports and determine if the sedatives used in all cases are the same.”
“Send me what you have,” Dillon said. He didn’t sound happy about it.
“I can do this without you.”
“Justin was my nephew too, Lucy.” He paused. “Are you going to talk to Nelia?”
“I don’t want to,” she admitted, “but I don’t see how I can avoid it. If I’m right and the killer stalked the families, Nelia may very well have met her. If I can narrow down the profile enough to where I can describe the killer’s personality that might trigger her memory.”
“You’re right, but I’ll do it. Nelia may not be able to help. Losing a child, especially to violence, is the worst grief that can befall someone. Nelia didn’t handle it well—no one expected her to—but she couldn’t get out of the pit of despair for years. She’s better now, but talking about Justin will destroy that peace.”
“Even if we find out who killed him.”
“Justin will still be dead.”
“This woman is going to kill again. I don’t want to hurt Nelia, but I want to save another woman from suffering her fate.”
“I understand, Lucy, I do. But this is a delicate situation. When you need to talk to Nelia, call me first. Let me facilitate it. She’ll talk to me. I can get the information out of her. I don’t know that she’ll give you the same.”
It might be the best she could get at this point. And if anyone could get Nelia to open up, it was Dillon. “Thank you.”
“This is a tough road you’ve chosen.”
“Do you really think I chose this road?”
He sighed. “I wouldn’t expect anything else from you. I love you, Luce. Be careful.”
She hung up, feeling much more confident about her position. Dillon didn’t tell her she was wrong or that she should reconsider. She didn’t know how she would feel if everyone in her family opposed her. She didn’t want to lose her family. She loved them, but she wasn’t backing down.
Sean came out with a towel wrapped around his waist. He had scars he hadn’t had when they first met. Some more recent than others. She had led a sheltered existence until she was eighteen … and then her life had spiraled out of control.
She had rebuilt her life, slowly and methodically, with no small effort by Sean to help her. In doing so, a path had been forged for her. Maybe she had chosen a violent, destructive road. But after she had faced evil and survived against all odds, how could she forget that evil existed? How could she allow innocent people to suffer? Once you knew the truth about human nature—the good and the bad—you couldn’t forget, ignore the bad and only see the good.
“Come here,” Lucy said and met Sean halfway with a kiss. “When do you have to go?”
“It’s my plane, I can leave when I want.”
She took him back to bed. She had to remember the good, remember the light, to sustain her in the dark times.
Sean was the brightest light in her life.
Chapter Fifteen
When Carina Kincaid called Max from the lobby and asked to meet with her, Max didn’t hesitate to agree. Lucy had thought her family wouldn’t cooperate; maybe they had a change of heart or Lucy wasn’t as perceptive as she appeared.
But when Carina knocked on the door and walked in with her brother, Connor Kincaid, Max suspected an ambush.
They didn’t disappoint her.
Max took them to the balcony to talk—she didn’t want to show them her evidence. If they wanted to cooperate, that was a different story, but she couldn’t give them any information by which they might be able to sabotage her investigation.
She’d learned the hard way that even innocent people sometimes didn’t want the truth to come out.
“Why do I think you’re not here to offer your assistance?” Max said, offering them both seats.
Neither Carina nor Connor sat down. They looked like brother and sister. Dark hair, slightly dark complexion. They both looked like cops. United.
“We want to know why you’re really here,” Connor said.
“I’m an investigative reporter. I specialize in cold cases.”
“Why are you here?”
“I like the US Grant. It’s one of the finest hotels in the country.”
“You know what I mean!”
Less than a minute and Max was fully irritated. Was that a record?
She said, “Justin Stanton was murdered. His case is unsolved. I’m going to solve it.”
“Bullshit. There’s another reason.”
“I don’t have a hidden agenda. You’re welcome to talk to my producer.”
“You want to exploit our family.”
Max really hated that word. She’d been accused of exploiting people when all she did was find the truth. “I’m happy to talk about my investigation with you if you would be willing to listen. But you don’t seem to have an open mind.”
Carina spoke for the first time. She looked tired, as if she hadn’t slept the night before. Max wondered why—what in the past gave her sleepless nights? What about Justin’s murder made her fear the truth?
“Nothing good can come from this,” she said. “Justin has been dead for nearly twenty years. I’ve looked into this case. There were no viable suspects. No evidence. Nothing that even points to a suspect. You can’t find anything because there is nothing to find.”
“Tommy Porter has been dead for fifteen years. Chris Donovan for six years. Peter Caldwell for nine months.”
“This is where you’ve gone off the deep end,” Connor said. “Donovan’s father was found guilty of murder. Caldwell’s mother is on trial for his murder. Only the Porter case is unsolved, and it’s nearly as old as Justin’s murder. Is that why you’re here? Did Donovan get you to find some thread of nothing to get him out of prison? Or maybe because you’re friends with Caldwell’s mother—you want to give the jury doubt that she did it.”
Max didn’t even respond to that ridiculous accusation.
“If you’re not here to help, I need you to leave.”
“You won’t get anything. This is our town, our people. San Diego isn’t as big as you think. You step out of line, we’ll take you down.”