“I don’t know.” Rick’s nerves tightened like a bowstring. “I do know all the murder scenes were for sale.”
“William Spires had access to all the locations.”
He drummed his fingers. “Where the hell is Jenna?”
“She could be taking a walk.”
“She keeps her phone with her.” And her face and family history had been all over the news thanks to Susan Martinez. If she knew what her brother was doing then she’d served Jenna up to him with that interview. “Where is she?”
A chair squeaked as if she leaned forward. “Her old family home is for sale. She mentioned it earlier while we were shopping.”
“Shit.” Worry pounded in his chest, reverberating through muscle and bone. “Thanks.”
“Call me when you have something.”
“Yeah.” His mind already raced ahead. He turned to Bishop who watched him closely, and relayed what Georgia had told him.
“Saying she is missing and in trouble, a fact we’ve not confirmed. Would it be so simple as him snatching her and taking her to her old home?”
“He’s not strayed far from his comfort zone. He picks a home he’s seen and toured. He picks surrogates to take the women.”
“Tuttle, Wheeler, and Mitchell.”
“And Ronnie. Ronnie killed Jenna’s family. But Ronnie fucked up the fire and he didn’t keep to the script. He took Jenna.”
“Spires/Martinez gets smarter and the next go around, he’s on scene during the killing and then kills the surrogate almost immediately. You think he turned Loyola loose on Jenna?”
Tumblers clicked into place as a lock opened. “I do. We need to go to the Thompson house.” He flipped through one of the Thompson murder files on his desk and found the address.
Chapter Nineteen
Friday, August 25, 9 P.M.
When Jenna awoke, she realized she was on a bed. Her hands were tied to the headboard and her feet to the baseboard. The strong scent of diesel hung in the air.
Quelling a surge of panic, she forced her mind to clear as she looked around the room and tried to figure out who had taken her. She moistened dry lips and did her best to ignore the ache and stiffness radiating through her limbs. She swallowed. “I know you’re out there. You wouldn’t set this little event up and just walk away.”
Silence. And then the shuffle of footsteps and the sound of breathing.
Jenna twisted her wrists in metal cuffs that chafed her skin. She looked around the room, doing her best to get her bearings. Her gaze darted from a dresser to an overstuffed chair and ottoman and to an area rug. She’d been here before. Days ago with Susan Martinez. This was the home she’d lived in until she was five. This was the house where her family had died.
Sadness and panic welled inside her as she closed her eyes for a moment and struggled to get control. Keep it together, Jenna. He wants to see you afraid. He wants to taste your fear. She dug deep for steel and wrapped herself in it. “Kind of trite bringing me to the place where it all began. Couldn’t you have come up with a better spot?” She laughed. “I could’ve done a better job.”
A shadow appeared at the door’s entrance. She couldn’t see a face, but knew she’d gained his attention.
“What, you can’t speak?” she taunted.
A strike of a match and then the flicker of a flame. The flame hovered in the air. She thought about the diesel soaking the carpet and bed and wondered how fast it would all ignite. Did he mean to burn her alive?
“I didn’t think this was part of the scenario. I thought your surrogate shot your victims first?”
The shadow tossed the match on the floor in the hallway. It flickered, just out of reach of the fuel, and then went out.
Her pounding heart rammed her rib cage. If he was trying to ignite fear, he was doing a good job. She drew in a slow, steady breath. “Okay, that was quite the show. What next?”
Another match struck. Unseen lips blew it out before it fell to the floor, inches from the other match. “You’re doing a good job of sounding brave, but I know you’re afraid.”
The sound of the graveled voice took her by surprise. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected him to sound like, but hearing his voice stirred another jolt of panic. “I drew an age progression of your high-school mug shot and sent it to Rick Morgan, Billy. Rick’s going to figure this out.”
“I’m not really worried.” For the first time he stepped from the shadows and stood at the door’s threshold. He was a tall, lean man, dressed in khakis and a white shirt. His face was pleasant and the slight smile tweaking the edge of his lips was almost charming.
“Why not?”
“No one gets off this planet alive,” he said. “We all have to die sometime. And the way I see it, all the killing ends tonight.”
She jerked at the bindings holding her arms. “What’s that mean?”
“Madness has been chasing me for years. He’s the one who brought you here. He’s the one who’s been screaming for your death for days. But I’m in control now.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Reason, the part of us that has kept us employed and out of jail.”
“You’re Reason?”
“And he’s Madness. I’m Jekyll and he’s Hyde.”
Her heart slowed as she processed what he was saying. “Did Madness kill those other women?”
“Yes. I didn’t want him to, but Madness threatened to ruin me if I didn’t let him out to play. He threatened to destroy our sister.”
“Sister?”
“Susan Martinez. You’ve met her.”
“She’s your sister?” Puzzle pieces scrambled into place. “You met my sister because of her.”
“Rather, she met your father because of me. Their shared troubles of two unruly teens pulled them together.”
Fear threatened to overwhelm her. “How did you get control now?”
He pulled a bottle of pills from his pocket. “He wasn’t paying attention after he tied you to the bed so I took these. They keep Madness calm.”