Copycat Killer

“This is Murphy.” He introduced the K-9 again. “Friend, Murphy.” He touched both Willow and Lucy, while repeating, “Friend.”

“Hold out your hand for the doggy to sniff,” Willow encouraged.

Lucy held out her hand, smiling a bit when Murphy’s nose touched her skin. “Nice doggy.”

“Yes, Murphy is a nice dog. He won’t hurt you.”

Willow searched his gaze. “Find anything?”

He shook his head. “I’d like to ask Lucy a few more questions if that’s okay.”

Willow’s light brown eyes looked concerned, but she nodded. “Can’t hurt to try.”

Nate waited until Lucy looked at him, with eyes that were mirror images of Willow’s. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think they were mother and daughter instead of aunt and niece. “Lucy, can you tell me more about the bad clown that wore black?”

Her tiny brow puckered with fear. “Scary,” she whispered.

“I know it was scary,” he agreed with a gentle smile. “But you’re a brave girl, aren’t you? I need you to tell me what the bad clown looked like.”

“Big. Mean.” Lucy scrunched up her face. “Clown face with blue hair on top.” She lifted a hand to her own hair as if to describe what she meant.

Blue hair? His chest tightened at her description. Twenty years ago—today—there had been a double murder in Brooklyn. Two of his colleagues, a brother and a sister, Bradley and Penelope McGregor, then just kids, had lost their parents. Bradley, fourteen, had been at a friend’s house, and four-year-old Penelope, left unharmed like Lucy, had been the only witness. She’d described the killer as a clown—with blue hair. He’d been thinking about the cold case today, as he knew the entire unit was, because of the anniversary. Twenty years unsolved. “You’re sure the hair was blue?”

She bobbed her head. “Blue like my dolly.”

Her dolly? He lifted a brow and glanced up at Willow, who nodded.

“Yes, she has a doll with bright blue hair.”

“Okay, blue hair on the top of the clown face,” he repeated. “Did you notice anything else about him?”

She shook her head. “Too scary.”

He imagined she’d hid her face and hoped that she hadn’t seen her parents being murdered in cold blood. He thought again how odd it was they’d both been shot in the back. As if they’d been heading out of the kitchen, toward the living room. Is that where Lucy had been? Or were they going there for some other reason?

No way to know for sure. The place was a mess, but it was difficult to tell if it had been searched by the killer. After making a mental note to tell the crime scene techs to make the living room a priority when looking for evidence, he turned his attention to the little girl. “What else, Lucy? Were you in the house when he came inside?”

Lucy shook her head, reaching out to pet Murphy’s sleek fur.

“No? Where were you?” Willow asked.

“Outside playing.” Lucy looked over toward the front of the house. “Mommy and Daddy were inside.”

Nate’s gaze sharpened. “He came up the sidewalk and into the fenced-in front yard?”

“Yes. He gived me a toy and told me to stay outside.” Her lower lip trembled, and Nate was concerned she might cry.

“It’s okay, Lucy, you’re safe with us,” Willow said, gently hugging her. “What kind of toy?”

“A monkey.” Lucy’s face crumpled. “I don’t want it anymore.”

A monkey? He sucked in a breath. The McGregors’ killer had also given Penelope a stuffed monkey. What was going on here?

“Are you sure?” he asked hoarsely. “Was it a stuffed monkey?”

Lucy bobbed her head up and down. “I left it outside when I heard the loud noise, but I don’t want it anymore. I want my mommy!”

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m here, Lucy.” Willow cuddled her close.

Nate rocked back on his heels, stunned speechless. The clown face with blue hair on top, two bullet holes in Lucy’s parents and a stuffed monkey.

The exact same MO as the twenty-year-old unsolved McGregor murders. The brutal slaying of the parents of fellow Brooklyn K-9 detective Bradley McGregor and his sister, desk clerk Penelope McGregor.

Down to the very last detail.

The idea that a killer from twenty years ago was still out there concerned him.

They needed to get this guy, and soon. Before anyone else ended up hurt, or worse, dead.

TWO

At first Willow thought Lucy was imagining things. Mean clown with blue hair? Wearing black? Giving her a stuffed monkey and telling her to stay outside? But she vaguely remembered her foot hitting something soft yet crinkly as she crossed the front lawn, and the shock that rippled over Nate Slater’s face was all too real. “What’s wrong? Do you know who did this?”

Nate shook his head, averting his gaze. “No, but we’re going to do our best to find the person responsible.” He turned and smiled gently at Lucy. “You’re very brave, Lucy. Thank you for telling me what you saw.” He stood. “Come, Murphy. Vivienne? Will you and Hank give me a moment?”

“Sure.” The pretty, dark-haired, dark-eyed K-9 cop hurried over and followed as Nate and Murphy headed purposefully to the front of the house, no doubt searching for the stuffed monkey.

Lucy burrowed against Willow. She cuddled the little girl close, knowing her niece was traumatized, and silently promised to make sure Lucy was set up with a child psychologist as soon as possible.

She also hoped the little girl wasn’t in any sort of ongoing danger. Granted, the mean clown had tried to hide his identity, but she couldn’t afford to ignore the possibility that he might return to finish what he’d started.

Nate returned, a small stuffed animal enclosed in what appeared to be two evidence bags. “Lucy, is this the monkey? Did the bad clown give it to you in a bag?”

Lucy lifted her head from Willow’s shoulder and nodded.

He glanced at Vivienne. “This guy is smart, knew enough to minimize the scent by wearing gloves and putting the toy in a bag. Murphy wasn’t able to pick up the scent to track. We can hope to lift prints from the plastic bag surrounding the monkey, but I’m not holding my breath.”

Vivienne grimaced. “Nate, you’d better call Sarge, give him the update.”

“Yeah.” He dropped his tone making it difficult to hear. “Gavin Sutherland is going to take this personally. You know how much he feels responsible for Bradley and Penny McGregor, especially today. It’s not going to be easy to tell them their parents’ killer may be back.” Nate tucked the double-bagged monkey in his pocket and reached for his phone.

Her gaze clung to Nate Slater’s tall, muscular figure as he contacted his boss. She couldn’t help overhearing pieces of his conversation.

“Gavin? Slater here. Listen, this is big. I’ve got two dead victims, parents of a child who survived, and the perp’s MO is exactly like the McGregor case from twenty years ago down to the last detail, including the stuffed monkey.”

Nate fell silent as he listened to his boss.

“I agree, the murderer must have resurfaced again, but why? Where’s he been all this time—”

“Is there anything I can get you?” Vivienne interrupted with a polite smile.

Willow flushed, wondering if the female K-9 officer knew she’d been eavesdropping.

“Yes, I—uh, would like to get some of Lucy’s things, like her clothes and a few favorite toys.”

Vivienne frowned. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think you can take anything out until the crime scene has been processed.” The officer’s gaze sharpened at something over her head. “It appears the ME and crime scene techs are here now.”

Willow turned in time to see two large vehicles. The dark van must belong to the coroner; the other was a white box truck with the NYPD logo that parked directly in front of Detective Slater’s SUV. She watched as a petite blonde with dimples emerged from behind the wheel, crossing over to join them.

“Darcy, this is Willow and Lucy Emery,” Vivienne said by way of introduction. “Darcy Fields is a forensic specialist with NYPD who often responds to our cases.”

Willow nodded a greeting, the names already becoming a jumble in her mind.

Except for Nate Slater. And Murphy.

Nate disconnected from the call and crossed over to rejoin them. “Darcy, after you process the main crime scene, I want you to do a thorough sweep of the living room to see if you can find anything that may be hidden.”

“Hidden in the living room?” Willow asked. “What makes you think that?”

The three of them glanced at her as if they’d forgotten she was there.

“No special reason,” Nate hedged. “Just a hunch.”

“Got it,” Darcy agreed. The bright paisley scarf around her throat was a burst of scarlet against the tan khaki slacks and white blouse. She hurried back to the van and began donning protective gear.

Hunch? About something hidden? Willow realized Nate and Vivienne weren’t going to clue her in as to what their investigation was revealing; it must be against some sort of cop rules. She frowned, thinking over her brief foray into the house. The kitchen had been a disaster, but she’d seen it that way before. The living room had been unusually messy, as well. Two months ago, the last time she’d confronted her brother and his wife about Lucy’s welfare, it had looked much the same.

It hurt to remember how she’d found Lucy hungry and wearing dirty clothes, with little food appropriate for a young child in the house. Alex had quickly sent Debra out to pick up some groceries, then told Willow to mind her own business.

She’d been tempted to report Alex and Debra to Child Protective Services, but decided to give them a chance to do better. To make things right. But as the weeks passed without a response to her many phone calls to Alex, she’d come to face off with them in person. To tell them to voluntarily give her temporary custody of Lucy or she’d notify CPS.

Now they were dead. Dead! It all seemed so surreal. As if this nightmare was happening to someone else, not to her.

Which brought her back to the present. Why was Nate focused on something being hidden in the living room? It didn’t make sense.

As Lucy turned in her lap, reaching out to pet Murphy again, it hit her.

Alex and Debra had been shot in the back, lying facedown just inside the living room. She could almost imagine the shooter being in the kitchen, firing as they were walking, or maybe even running, toward the living room.

Her stomach churned. Had they been trying to get to something they’d hidden for safekeeping? She was thankful that Lucy had been outside when the “bad clown” had killed her parents. But that didn’t prevent her from wishing she had called CPS months ago.

If she had, maybe her brother and his wife would have pulled themselves together, doing the right thing to get Lucy back. Had they been involved in something shady that had gotten them killed? Or was it a random murder?

Anyway, now it was too late. They were gone. And she couldn’t turn back the clock.

“Aunt Willow, I’m hungry.” Lucy’s plaintive tone made her realize how long they’d been outside.

“Okay, hang on, I have some animal crackers with me.” She dug in her oversize shoulder bag, finding the animal-shaped vanilla crackers. She’d purposely brought them along in case there wasn’t any food in the house like last time.

Lucy nibbled on a cracker, her attitude subdued rather than her usual playful self. Willow’s heart ached for the little girl.

“Excuse me.” Willow lifted her hand to get Nate’s or Vivienne’s attention. “How much longer do we need to stay? Am I able to take Lucy home with me?”

Nate and Vivienne exchanged a long glance before Nate nodded. “We need to contact Child Protective Services first to let them know the situation. Where do you live?”

“Bay Ridge.”

His brow levered upward. “That’s where our K-9 headquarters is located.” He glanced at his watch. “Give us a few more minutes. Vivienne, will you get an okay from Child Protective Services on Willow taking Lucy home tonight? Once they approve, I’ll drive Willow and Lucy there.”

“Sure.” Vivienne moved away to use her phone.

“Okay.” Frankly, she wouldn’t mind a ride; the idea of carrying Lucy through the subway wasn’t appealing. She gazed wistfully at her brother’s place. If only she could pick out a few things, like Lucy’s stroller, her clothes and toys, it would be an easier transition for the little girl.

Lucy rested against her, eating another animal cracker. She pressed a kiss to the top of Lucy’s wavy blond hair, reveling in the calming scent of baby shampoo.

Lucy was safe, and that was all that mattered. She had some money saved up. She could buy whatever Lucy needed.

Willow would do everything in her power to keep Lucy in a safe, warm, stable and loving home.

From this moment forward and for the rest of their lives.

Nate’s phone vibrated with an incoming text message. He tore his gaze from Willow and Lucy, pulled the device from his pocket, and read Penelope McGregor’s note.

Today is the 20th anniversary of my parents’ murders. The same MO can’t be a coincidence.

Nate shot a quick message back in return. Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out.

Still reeling from the similarities between the recent Emery double murder and the twenty-year-old McGregor cold case murder of Penny and Bradley’s parents, he mentally reviewed the scene of the crime.

April 14, the exact same date with the same MO, all the way down to the clown face with blue hair and the cheap stuffed monkey. He shivered just thinking about the cold case. Forty-year-old Eddie and Anna McGregor had been killed in their Brooklyn home, each shot at close range. Their son, Bradley, just fourteen, had been at a sleepover at a friend’s house. Daughter Penny, just four years old, had witnessed the murders. To make the case even more heartbreaking, Bradley had been considered a suspect for a long time. His parents had been neglectful, same as the Emerys, and Bradley had been known to fiercely argue with them, particularly as it concerned his little sister. There had been no evidence connecting Bradley to the murders, so he’d been dropped from the suspect list, but the taint had never quite left him. Bradley and Penny had been taken in by the lead detective on the case and his wife, and the dedicated cop had gone to his grave not knowing who’d killed the McGregors.

Nate knew that Bradley—and Penny—wanted to rectify that. Now, suddenly, there was movement on the case, a break. Because another set of parents had died with the remarkably same MO.

The murderer was back after twenty years. Why? And where had he been all this time?

“What did Gavin have to say?” Vivienne asked, interrupting his thoughts.

Gavin had been rattled by the report of the same MO; Nate had heard it in his voice, even if the sarge worked hard to hide it. “He’s worried about how Bradley and Penny are handling the news. Once the media gets wind of it...” He shook his head.

“It won’t be pretty,” Vivienne agreed. She glanced around the crime scene, where a dozen cops and techs were busy processing the evidence. The two EMTs had finally left, with only the coroner’s van and the white crime scene box truck remaining on scene. “CPS agreed to let Willow take temporary custody of Lucy. I’m heading out, unless you need something?”

He was about to say no, but then hesitated. There was one difference between the twenty-year-old case and this current one.

Half of a leather watch band had been found at the scene of the McGregor murders. The DNA had been tested from dead skin cells lifted from the inside of the band, but so far no match in the national crime DNA data bank had been found.

He wondered if there was anything left behind by the murderer in the Emery case, other than the stuffed monkey encased in plastic. He thought about the fenced-in backyard. He’d been so focused on finding the gunman and then the monkey that he hadn’t searched closely for clues.

“Stay here next to Willow and Lucy for a few minutes, would you?” He shortened up Murphy’s leash. “Come, Murphy.”

“Where are you going?” Willow’s terse question caught him off guard.

“I’ll be back shortly.” He flashed a reassuring grin. “I’ll take you and Lucy home after I check something out.”

Her smile was sad. “Okay.”

He understood she wanted to get Lucy out of here, so he quickened his pace. When he’d rounded the backyard earlier in an effort to follow the path the perp may have taken, he hadn’t bothered searching for clues. The crime scene techs would be very thorough, but he still wanted to go back to check the ground beyond the house for himself.

Retracing his steps, he closely examined the ground on the other side of the fence, searching for evidence. Footprints, or something the perp may have dropped.

Unfortunately, the backyard butted right up against the road, no soft ground to reveal a footprint similar to what he’d found in the cemetery. He broadened his search outside the property, but still came up empty-handed.

Unless the techs found some kind of DNA evidence inside, they’d have nothing to use as a match for what had been identified on the leather watch band.

Disappointed, he turned back to the Emery crime scene. “Murphy, heel.”

The yellow Lab obediently sat at his left side.

“Good boy.” He bent over to scratch Murphy behind the ears, then hurried back to where Willow and Lucy waited next to Vivienne.

“I was just explaining to Willow that a caseworker by the name of Jayne Hendricks will be following up either tomorrow or Tuesday.” Vivienne smiled gently. “I’m sure everything will be fine.”

Willow nodded. “Okay.”

“Ready to go?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you.” Willow glanced down at Lucy. “Except I just realized we’ll need a child safety seat for your vehicle.”

He frowned, understanding her concern. “I’ll run and grab one. Vivienne, will you and Hank keep watch?”

“Sure.”

As he ran the errand, he thought about Willow and Lucy. There was something vulnerable yet strong about them. As if it was the two of them against the world.

It reminded him of how close he and his mother once were. When he was younger, it had been the two of them against the world, too.

When he returned, he opened the box and pulled out the car seat. Willow took it from him and expertly placed it in the back seat of his SUV.

Nate looked at the petite little girl, noticing again that her yellow outfit carried several dark smears of blood. He’d need to take her clothing in as evidence, which meant she’d need replacements.

“Why don’t we stop and pick up a few more things along the way?” he offered. With the traffic, the drive between East Flatbush and Bay Ridge would take a good forty-five minutes. “There’s a department store not too far from here.”

“Thank you. That would be great.”

He wasn’t sure why he’d offered to take her home; he wasn’t exactly the family kind of guy. Yet it was on the way to the K-9 Unit headquarters, so he told himself it was the decent thing to do.

Willow gently set Lucy in the car seat, while he put Murphy in the back K-9 crate area. Using the rearview mirror, he kept an eye on Lucy as he navigated the traffic toward Bay Ridge.

“Detective Slater?”

He glanced at Willow. “Sounds so formal. Why don’t you call me Nate?”

“Um, okay, Nate.” She cleared her throat. “I know you can’t give me details about the investigation, but I’d like to be kept informed of your progress. I—need to know the person who killed my brother will be punished. No matter what my brother did—” She stopped and swallowed hard before continuing. “He and Debra didn’t deserve to be murdered in their home.”

“I can’t make any promises,” he cautioned. “But I’ll do my best to keep you updated on the case.” Considering the similarities between the Emery murders and the twenty-year-old McGregor case, he felt certain Gavin would fight hard to keep the newly established Brooklyn K-9 Unit on the case.

He’d been the first officer on the scene and wanted, needed, to see it through to the end.

“Thank you.” Willow ran her fingers through her long straight brown hair. “I still can’t believe this happened.”

“Was your brother expecting your visit?” He glanced at Willow.

She winced and shook her head. “No, unfortunately he was ignoring my calls. Debra, too. This was my first day off in two weeks, so I decided to confront them face-to-face.”

“About what?”

She hesitated, then waved a hand. “You saw the place. Empty liquor bottles, dirty dishes piled up to the cabinets and hardly any decent food. Is that a good environment for a child? I knew Lucy wasn’t exactly a planned addition to their family, but I thought they’d settle down, do the right thing.” She let out a heavy sigh. “They didn’t.”

He nodded thoughtfully. Her brother’s lifestyle may have made it easier for a stranger to get into their house. Maybe someone who’d confronted them, then fired his weapon as they ran away. But why? That was the nagging question.

If the killer was the same murderer from twenty years ago, he couldn’t figure out why they’d struck again, all these years later.

“Oh, there’s the store.” Willow gestured toward her side of the road.

He’d almost forgotten his promise. He quickly maneuvered over to the right lane, then pulled into the parking lot. The moment he stopped the car, Willow pushed out of her passenger seat and opened the back door to get Lucy from the car seat.

He fetched Murphy, unwilling to leave him in the car, and easily caught up to her. It felt strange to walk into the store with Willow and Lucy. He’d never dated a single mother, or any woman who wanted to settle down. He was keenly aware of the smiles aimed in their direction, as if they were a happy little family.

Maybe because his blond hair was similar to Lucy’s, not to mention, Lucy had Willow’s cinnamon-brown eyes.

He found himself putting distance between them, instinctively shying away from being associated with the role of husband and father. That was a path he’d never take.

Not with his history.

Willow lifted Lucy into the seat of a shopping cart, then whizzed through the aisles, picking out clothes, a stroller and toys. Then she added groceries before heading over to the checkout lane.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to get some things from the house once the scene has been processed,” he reminded her.

“I know, but these are essentials.” The total was staggering, but she didn’t blink as she paid the bill.

He stored most of the items in the back seat while Willow lifted Lucy up and buckled her in.

“Ready?” He glanced at Willow.

For the first time since he’d met her, she offered a genuine smile. The way her entire face brightened made his mouth go dry. Willow was incredibly beautiful, tall and slender like a model might be. “Yes, thank you.”

Inwardly shaking his head at his foolishness, he started the SUV. Pulling back into traffic, he decided not to mention that he’d need Lucy’s bloodstained clothes as evidence until after they’d reached her apartment. “What’s your address?”

She rattled it off and he recognized it as a prewar redbrick apartment building, not far from where their headquarters was located.

“Nice,” he said. “A two-bedroom place?”

“No, just one.” She glanced back at Lucy and shrugged. “It will have to do for now.”

He was curious as to what her job was that allowed her to afford even a one-bedroom in the nice neighborhood, but told himself it wasn’t his business. His own single-bedroom apartment had been his mother’s, one that he’d inherited after she died. Conveniently located on the ground floor, there was a small yard for Murphy.

Thinking about his mother, and how far they’d come after leaving his abusive father, wasn’t helpful. He needed to stay focused on the case at hand, not the disturbing memories of his past.