Karen Rose - I Can See You

“No. Goddammit, no.” His fingers few over the keys as he checked his offshore accounts. Frozen. Funds unavailable.

They’d frozen his accounts. They’d been in his house. In my things. The account information had been in his safe… along with all of his information on John.

Even Webster was smart enough to connect John and Irene Black.

He put his head in his hands. He needed to get away. Now. He grabbed his knife and headed down the stairs.

Eve heard his voice upstairs. He’d sounded angry. There’d been cursing. That was a good sign. Noah was close. She needed to buy just a little more time.

Opening her eyes a slit, she could see Pierce marching down the stairs, fully clothed, his hair still wet, his knife clenched in his hand. Under his arm he had folded blankets. She closed her eyes, hoping he’d think she was still unconscious. She hadn’t been long, but Liza hadn’t responded to her whispers and she feared what had happened while she’d been out. Don’t be dead.

Pierce walked behind her, then reappeared with a very still Liza wrapped in one of the blankets and heaved her over his shoulder. He took Liza up the stairs, ignoring Eve. If he was in a hurry to leave, it meant Noah and the cops were on their way. She had to do whatever it took to keep him down here, where Noah could trap him.

Pierce would have to untie her to get her out. She could only pray he didn’t sedate her again. Sedated, she couldn’t fight him. And fighting him was exactly what she’d do. If he didn’t sedate her, she’d have a split second to act when he cut her loose.

Upstairs, she heard a door slam and he came down the stairs, moving more slowly this time. He was tired, she realized. He’d probably never had to carry a body up those stairs. Eve kept her eyes closed, body lax. Don’t use the needle. Don’t use the needle .

She heard him approach, felt him stop next to her. “Wake up,” he said and smacked her face. He leaned over, placed the blade against her throat. “You’re either good or you’re out cold. Let’s see how good you are.”

Thursday, February 25, 3:15 p.m.

Do you have any idea where you’re going?” Brock asked.

They were speeding toward New Germany and all Noah had been able to think was that Eve could be there. Hurt or… Don’t go there. You can’t go there .

He looked over at Brock. “The kennel was called Green Gables.”

“I know it. They train hunting dogs. It’s a damn big kennel, Noah. Acres of land.”

“Olivia said a woman dropped off the cat driving Ann Pierce’s BMW. Assuming it was Ann Pierce, how would she pick that kennel, just out of the air? She must have passed it at some point.”

“Or she’s a hunter,” Brock said. “But let’s go with your line of thought. This road continues for miles. The houses are usually at the end of long driveways. Did you find any property out here owned by this Pierce guy?”

“No. The only house in his name is the one he lives in.”

“There’s the kennel up on the right,” Brock said.

Noah checked the driveway, then passed the kennel without slowing down when he saw Olivia’s car parked in front.

Brock turned to look behind them. “Looks like your friend beat you here.”

“I know. I don’t want to get Olivia in trouble.”

“You can’t do this on your own, Noah. This area is too remote. You need an aerial view to know where all the houses are. You’ll need search crews and dogs.”

“I know,” Noah said, then focused on the vehicle stopping ahead. “Or… a postman.”

The postman had pulled his truck to the side and was stuffing letters into a mailbox. He looked up in surprise when Noah got out, showing his badge. “I’m trying to locate one of your residents. We think he may be able to help us with an investigation.”

“I’ve seen your face before. I delivered a lot of MSP s out here.”

“I’m Detective Webster,” Noah said. “I’m looking for a man named Pierce.”

The old postman shook his head. “I don’t know that name. Sorry, can’t help you.” He started to move, but Noah put out his hand, desperation rising to close his throat.

“Wait, please. If you know who I am, you know what’s been happening this week.”

The postman nodded. “I read the paper, but I don’t know that Pierce name.”

“Okay.” Noah’s mind was racing. If Pierce had mail in Irene Black’s name sent out here, it meant he came out here. His wife knew about the kennel, so she’d been out here, too. It was a long shot, but he had to try. “What about deliveries? You say you delivered MSP magazine out here. What about other magazines?”

The postman frowned severely. “I can’t tell you that.”

Noah closed his eyes briefly, fighting for control. “This man has killed six women, maybe more. He’s abducted two more women that might still be alive. If you can help me, I won’t tell a soul how I got the information. I promise. Please. Please, help me.”

The postman looked away for a long moment, then back. “What kind of magazines?”

“Psychology, computer magazines, game magazines.” Noah concentrated. The wife was a biologist. “Animal magazines. Dogs, cats. Snakes.”

The postman shook his head. “I haven’t seen anything like that. A lot of our folks have their magazines sent to post office boxes, too.”

Which Pierce would have done. Dammit. Noah started to turn away, then stopped. He’d come too far. There had to be something… “What kinds of deliveries would have to be delivered to an actual address, not a post office box?”

“Packages. Those PO boxes don’t hold that much.”

Packages. Noah blew out a breath, watched it hang in the air… just as it had as he’d stood looking up at Martha Brisbane Sunday night. He pictured her as she’d hung there in her low-cut red dress, her stiletto-heeled shoes on the floor beneath her feet.

Her dress, her shoes… they’d been identical to all the others. Same style, just different sizes. Ordered from a online shopping club, Micki had said days ago.

“What about packages from The Fashion Club? It would have been a few weeks ago. It had dresses and shoes.”

The postman went still. “High-heeled shoes? Red?”

Noah nodded, trying to keep calm. “Yes.”

“I left the box on the front porch. A few days later I delivered another box. The first one was still there, its bottom frozen to the porch. The box was wet from the snow and it fell apart. It was filled with shoe boxes. The same red, pencil-heeled shoes. I assumed it was for some play or dance troupe, you know, where they all had to dress alike.”

Noah’s heart was pounding in his ears. “Where did you deliver the boxes?”

“About two miles up the road. I’ll draw you a map.”

Two minutes later Noah was in his car, slamming the door as he punched the gas.

“You found it then?” Brock asked.

“I hope so.” He hit redial on his cell phone, getting Olivia on the first ring.

“You…” she fumed. “You lied to me. You said you’d stay back at the station.”

“I found him,” Noah said, ignoring her very justified tirade. He gave her the address as the road the postman had indicated came into view. “I’m going in. Back me up.”

“Noa-”

Noah closed his phone and handed it to Brock. “If she calls back, you answer it.”

Brock was giving him a wary look. “You’re gonna get your ass fired for this.”

“Not if I win.” He thought of Eve and Liza and every woman Pierce had left hanging from her bedroom ceiling. Of Virginia’s hollow eye sockets. “If I lose, I won’t care.”