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Ten years later everything had changed, yet nothing had. She was a responsible adult, living an upstanding life, and Hunter was still telling her what to do.
“Come on, Amber.” He wasn’t yelling but his voice was raised beyond its usual mellow tone. “This guy has already killed two people. You’re on the list.”
“I’m armed.”
“It won’t matter if he takes you out from behind.”
She slid into the seat and gripped the wheel. Whatever had made her think she could work alongside her older brother without him trying to micromanage her life?
Hunter lowered his voice. “I’m not trying to control you. I just don’t want you taking unnecessary chances. Most of what we do is pretty safe. But if you get any weird calls, respond with backup.”
She released her grip on the wheel. He was right. Someone had tried to get her alone and she’d almost played into his hands. Those last moments before Hunter and Wade arrived, she’d been scared. Whoever was after her and the others wasn’t going to stop until he was caught. Or they were all dead.
“All right.” She heaved a sigh. “If I’m not driving around town, answering touristy questions and keeping people from speeding, I’ll make sure I’m with someone.”
Hunter’s mouth curved into a relieved smile. “Thank you. I’ll breathe much easier.”
She closed the door and watched him walk to the SUV. He only got into her business because he loved her. And she loved him, although he annoyed her sometimes.
She started the car and made her way toward downtown. Her shift would soon be over. She’d go by the station, write up her report then head for home.
When she pulled into her driveway thirty minutes later, three of her cats were sitting in the front windows, having weaved in behind the vertical blind slats. Tippy occupied a windowsill by herself. Smokey and Ash, the gray sisters, shared the second. Cimba and Shadow were likely sleeping on the couch.
Of the five, only Tippy was hers. The other four were visitors, cats she was fostering for Sheltering Hands. Over the past several months, a dozen others had passed through her place on their way to forever homes.
She retrieved her purse from the passenger seat and her gaze slid across the lower right-hand corner of the windshield. Something white was tucked under the tip of the wiper blade.
As she stepped from the vehicle, dread trickled over her. No one seemed to be watching, but she couldn’t be sure. Woods lined Hodges Avenue and most of the streets running off it—165th Terrace was no exception. Maybe she should have rented something a little more open.
She moved to the back of the RAV4 to retrieve a pair of latex gloves. What lay jammed beneath the wiper blade wasn’t an advertisement or note from someone she knew. It had been placed too inconspicuously. It was folded in eighths, its size and location almost guaranteeing she’d be the one to discover it. In fact, she’d almost missed it herself.
After donning the gloves, she pulled the paper from the glass and took it inside the house.
Block print filled the page. Six lines. As she read what she held, her blood turned to ice.
She laid the sheet on the table and took her phone from her purse. She could call Caleb directly and leave Hunter out of it. No, Caleb was probably asleep, getting his rest before going in to work all night. She needed to go through the proper channels, which meant reporting it to her own police department.
When she opened the door several minutes later, Hunter frowned at her. “What’s going on?”
“Come in and I’ll show you.” She led him to the table and pointed to the sheet of paper. “Someone slipped this under my wiper blade at the station.”
As he read, she followed along.
One by one, the days tick by.
One by one, the moments fly.
One by one, plans are set.
One by one, goals are met.
One by one, mistakes are made.
And one by one, debts are paid.
Hunter’s eyes met hers. He was still frowning. “What do you think it means?”
“Like the other poem, it’s referencing our successes.”
“And the mistakes?”
“Ramona’s mistake was opening the door. For Alex, it was venturing up on that balcony.”
“And with each death, a debt was paid.”
Her gaze dipped to the page. “I wonder if the others got this.”
“If not, I’m even more concerned.”
Her eyes again locked with his. “Why?”
“It might mean you’re next.”
* * *
Caleb dried his plate and put it in the cupboard. Voices drifted to him from the living room, an evening sitcom he had no intention of watching. But conversation, no matter how senseless, made the house feel less lonely.
He closed the cabinet door and left the kitchen. He’d finished dinner. Or maybe it would be breakfast, since he’d gotten up only two hours ago. When most of the eastern US was getting ready for bed, his day was just starting. Eventually he’d put in for days. But after several weeks, he was pretty used to the backward schedule.
When he came into the living room, a set of green eyes and a pair of dark brown ones followed him. He walked toward the recliner and excitement rippled along the dog’s back. Rescued a year ago, Kira was a beagle mix who loved cuddling, chasing squirrels and eating, in that order. As soon as his body met the leather surface, the dog landed in his lap with a whoomph.
He laughed and scratched her neck. “Good thing you’re not a Saint Bernard or I’d be in trouble.”
Not willing to share a lap with a dog, Tess jumped onto the arm of the recliner and began to purr. Caleb slid his fingers through her silky gray fur before reaching for the remote. As usual, he’d brought work home. One file sat on the kitchen table, still open from where he’d been reading it at dinnertime. The other was on the end table next to him. Sometimes things that eluded him at the station came to him in the comfort of his home. Reviewing work also made a great way to pass the evening.
He lowered the volume on the TV and laid down the remote. But instead of reaching for the file, he shifted his weight under Kira’s white, tan and black body to pull his cell phone from its pouch. He didn’t have anything new to tell Amber. When he’d gone in last night, he’d relayed what she and her friends had told him about Logan. Someone would make contact with him today.
Caleb had also printed the investigative reports connected with Landon Cleary’s murder. Nothing had jumped out at him. Amber and her friends had given statements. Each person’s story confirmed the others’. One hundred percent. Either they were all telling the truth or they’d coordinated everything before giving their statements to police. Caleb’s gut told him it was the latter. Something was fishy. Raymond’s actions at the Gathering Table had confirmed it.
Caleb had phoned him last night. Judging from the man’s slurred speech, the call had caught him well into his evening binge. That should have worked in Caleb’s favor. But Raymond had stuck by the same line he’d given after Vincent’s warning glare. The booze hadn’t loosened his tongue at all. He obviously functioned well while drunk.
Caleb brought up his contacts and scrolled to where Amber Kingston was listed first. After their meeting yesterday, he’d finally programmed her number into his phone. She was his main contact, the one most likely to tell him what he wanted to know. She was directly involved and had an inside link with the others. And she was fellow law enforcement. It made sense to stay in close touch with her.
As he pressed the call icon, his pulse picked up a notch. Okay, he’d be lying if he didn’t admit it. He was keeping in touch with her for all the professional reasons, but she intrigued him, too. Former bad girl turned cop. Expressive green eyes that revealed her emotions but shielded her secrets. An air that radiated confidence but a sense of regret that ran beneath the surface.
She answered with a “Hi, Caleb” instead of a generic hello. Maybe she’d programmed him into her phone, too.
Kira shifted in his lap. “You still awake?”
“For about another twenty minutes. What are you up to?”
“Sitting in my recliner buried under twenty-five pounds of canine sweetness.”
“Aww. I like dogs, but I’m more of a cat person.”
“I have one of those, too.”
“I have...more than one.” She paused. “Do they get along, your dog and cat?”
“I don’t know if get along is the right way to describe it. They tolerate one another. I already had Tess, my cat, when I rescued Kira, so Kira’s cool with cats. She just doesn’t like other dogs. But I think Tess still hasn’t fully forgiven me.”
“She’ll get over it. Eventually. Cats can hold a grudge for a long time.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.” He stroked Tess’s back and she stretched, front paws working in a kneading motion. “Have you talked to anyone since our meeting yesterday afternoon?”
“Liv called.”
“What did she say?”
“She was scared. She wanted to know what I was doing to stay safe. I told her I’m being careful, keeping my eyes and ears open and my door locked, trying not to go out alone at night. Sleeping with my gun. Liv said she doesn’t have one anymore.”
“Liv had a gun?”
“In high school she had a rifle. She took lessons and competed. She was pretty good. Won a lot of ribbons. Used to regularly beat out the boys.”
It was hard to picture Liv focused enough to be that competitive. “Maybe she should consider getting one again.” He switched the phone to his other ear. “Did you talk to anyone else?”
“Nope, just Liv.”
“I don’t have anything new to add, either. I did learn the FBI is getting involved. With those notes tying you six together, and the obvious threat in Ramona’s, everyone’s treating these as serial killings.”
“That’s probably good. The more people looking at this, the better.”
Kira stood to change her position. After rotating a quarter turn, she plopped down, her back against his belly, and he once again appreciated her smaller size. He ran a hand along her side and she released a contented sigh. “How was work today?”
“Interesting.”
“Since Cedar Key isn’t a hot spot for crime, I take it something out of the ordinary happened.”
“I responded to a call, a woman screaming for help. When I arrived, I heard movement in the woods. Someone even said ‘help me.’ But whoever it was, never showed.”
His chest tightened. “Do you think it was a hoax, a way to lure you into the woods alone?”
“It’s pretty suspicious. First, whoever called said they wanted to remain anonymous. Nothing came up for the number, either. Probably a disposable cell. On the 911 recording, the voice was too raspy to even tell whether it was a man or woman.”
She drew in a deep breath and released it in a sigh. “There are a few houses in the area. No one reported hearing screams. When I left the station, someone had put a note on my windshield.”
“What kind of note?”
“A poem, six lines, the same rhyme pattern as the other one. Each line started with ‘one by one,’ ending with ‘And one by one, debts are paid.’”
He swallowed hard. His stomach had twisted into a knot. “You need to be extra careful.”
“I am. When I heard someone in the woods, I called for backup right away.”
He finished the thought for her. “And went in without waiting for them to get there.”
He couldn’t blame her. He’d have done the same thing. When someone was in trouble, he jumped in with both feet. Had all his life.
She didn’t respond and he continued. “You probably shouldn’t handle any calls like that alone.”
“You been talking to Hunter?” She gave a wry laugh. “He works for Cedar Key, too, and insists on playing the part of protective big brother.”
Caleb smiled. Hunter had been five years ahead of them in school, but Caleb remembered him from the neighborhood. “In this case, you should probably listen.” He paused briefly. “Any idea what Raymond was going to say before Vincent shut him up?”
“You noticed that, too.” She sighed. “No idea. If any of them laid a hand on Landon, they’ve never breathed a word of it. Liv was with me, and everyone else has maintained that they left before Landon got there. I’ve never had reason to doubt them. We weren’t the best kids, but we weren’t killers.”
The sincerity in her tone resonated with something deep inside him. She was telling the truth. Whatever happened, she hadn’t been a part of it. An unexpected lightness filled his chest.
But the others had apparently kept something from her. They might not be capable of murder, but what about a prank gone wrong?
“If anyone hints otherwise, will you let me know?”
“Of course.”
Caleb glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to take Kira out before I leave. I always keep her on a leash. The squirrels in the neighborhood thank me.”
Amber laughed. “I hope I get to meet her sometime.”
Not gonna happen. It wasn’t like he’d be inviting her over for pizza and movies. The only women who visited his personal space were his sister and his mother. He didn’t believe in setting up impossible expectations.
After disconnecting the call, he removed a reluctant dog from his lap. Tess relinquished her place on the padded arm and jumped down, rather than waiting for him to disturb her. They were great company, but intelligent conversation was lacking. Though the TV dispelled the silence, it never quite chased away the loneliness.
Eventually he’d be ready to risk his heart again. But when the time came, it would be with someone he could keep safe, not a woman whose job put her in potential danger every day. The world was a nasty place. He’d experienced the worst it had to offer firsthand.
When he arrived at the station, he got caught up on everything that had transpired since he’d ended his shift the prior night. Logan Cleary had an alibi for the night Ramona Freeborn was killed, an ex-girlfriend he’d spent the weekend with. A married ex-girlfriend whose husband had been out of town. Since Danielle had a whole lot to lose if her indiscretion was made public, he was inclined to believe her.
So if Logan was behind the killings, he wasn’t working alone. Who would be willing to take up his vendetta? Someone who cared a lot for him. Likely someone they all knew.
Caleb sat in his office chair and pulled out the reports he’d printed last night. The time of death was set between 1:00 and 2:00 a.m. Someone had used the boy as a punching bag, then struck him in the head with a rock. Said rock was lying nearby, along with some others scattered around. The medical examiner had ruled out the possibility Landon had been running and had fallen. Otherwise he’d have thrust his hands out in front of him, leaving scrapes and debris. But his palms had been clean. His knees, too.
Although the cause of death was clear, they’d never been able to nail down the perpetrators. The boys and Ramona had said they’d left the woods at around twelve thirty. Amber and Liv had left thirty minutes earlier.
Raymond’s parents had said he had a 1:00 a.m. curfew and had made it home with time to spare. Vincent and Alex had met a friend at Strickland Park, all three boys’ statements putting them there well before one. Liv claimed to have gone home after dropping Amber off but had no one to corroborate her story. Ramona hadn’t, either. She’d supposedly sneaked back into her house at twelve forty-five without disturbing anyone.
Amber hadn’t been so lucky. While climbing in her bedroom window, she’d slipped and sent a lamp crashing to the floor. According to the statement her parents gave, this had happened shortly after midnight. From everything he knew about them, they were probably telling the truth. He wasn’t sure about Alex and Vincent’s friend, though.
He pulled up the transcript of his statement. The friend’s name was Steve Wilkins, likely in the same graduating class as the others, according to his date of birth. When Caleb ran his information through the database, several pages of arrests came up. The guy had been in trouble from the time he’d graduated until about two years ago, which made him a pretty shaky witness for Alex and Vincent.
