Rita Herron - In a Heartbeat

“He’s varying from White then,” Brad said. “But if he failed at rape, he may be impotent, as White was.”

“It probably adds to his agitation,” Ethan added.

A chorus of mumblings rushed out in agreement.

“We looked for a connection between Worthy and White, but so far, we haven’t found one,” Brad said. “Mindy worked at the hospital where White died, but she wasn’t on duty the night he was admitted.”

Ethan spoke up next. “I’ll interview White’s old cell mate, Curtis Thigs. He was released on parole a few days ago. Then maybe I’ll talk to some of the other inmates.”

“Good luck,” Detective Bentley said with a chuckle.

Brad shot them a menacing look. Nothing about this case was funny. “We need to cross-check for other parolees recently released, mental patients as well.”

“I’m on it,” Captain Rosberg said.

“Any leads on the lumber for the coffin?” Brad asked.

“We’re still checking it out,” Detective Anderson said. “It may take awhile. Construction crews in and around Atlanta are too many to count.”

“Make it a priority.” Brad gestured toward his partner. “How about the first vic—a boyfriend in the picture?”

Ethan shook his head. “According to her roommate, she hasn’t been seriously involved with anyone for some time.”

“He’s choosing them at random?” Captain Rosberg asked.

“Maybe.” Brad still didn’t know what to think. White had chosen all coeds. Joann Worthy had been a computer consultant. “Where was the Worthy woman last seen?”

“A sushi bar around the corner from her apartment.” Ethan consulted his notes. “No, wait, after that, she went into a dance club called Johnny Q’s on Marietta Street.”

“And no one saw a man with her?” Brad asked.

“Two guys hit on her, but she brushed them off,” Ethan added. “Got a description. We’re following up. Last the bartender saw, she stepped outside for a cab.”

“The cab companies?”

“We’ve shown her picture. No one remembers picking her up.”

Shit. A dead end.

Ethan rapped his knuckles on the wooden table. “We’ll keep looking into her activities and friendships, though, see what we can find.”

“How about our latest missing woman…Mindy Faulkner?” He nearly choked on the name.

“Thirty, slender, dirty-blond hair, five-four, one hundred and ten pounds, blue eyes,” Captain Rosberg stated.

“He varied again. Joann Worthy was a brunette,” Brad said. “Mindy’s a blonde.”

Everyone nodded and made a note of the detail.

“According to a nurse at First Peachtree Hospital where she works as an R.N., she left the hospital yesterday afternoon around three,” Rosberg continued. “None of her coworkers have seen her since. And her landlord says she didn’t show up at her apartment after work or last night.”

“So, we’ve got several hours unaccounted for,” Detective Bentley said. “He could have picked her up anywhere.”

Brad nodded. “Let’s get busy. The first GD kept each victim seven days and nights. This copycat held his first victim for only three. The clock is ticking.”

The group dispersed, each officer heading out to his assigned part of the investigation.

Ethan’s boots hit the floor. “You think there’s a significance to the time period he’s holding them?”

Brad twisted his mouth in thought. “Yeah. White said God made the world in seven days and nights. This guy leaves a cross, keeps his vics three days. If he’s following White’s twisted logic, maybe the resurrection of the Grave Digger is symbolic of Jesus coming back to life.”

Ethan cursed. “On the third day, he rose from the dead.”

Brad nodded. “And Mindy’s paying for it.”

Ethan gave him an odd look, almost sympathetic, although neither man did sympathetic. “I know you’re beating yourself up over this, Booker.”

Of course his partner would see through him. Hadn’t Ethan’s own family been killed two years ago? It had turned him into a hard-ass, one who took too many risks sometimes.

Brad cursed. “Mindy might die because she knew me. And the first body was dumped near my house. He’s taunting me, shoving the blasted case in my face.”

“We’ll find her,” Ethan said, although Brad knew the words were lip service. There were no guarantees. And so far, no concrete leads.

“I’ve made a list of all the men I’ve crossed in the past five years,” Brad said. “I’m running their names to see if anyone might be on parole or have connections nearby.”

“Good plan.” Ethan shrugged into his jacket. “Have you thought about talking to Lisa Langley?”

“Hell yeah, I’ve considered it.” Brad threw down his pen and scrubbed his hands over the back of his neck. “But I can’t put her in jeopardy again.”

Ethan jammed a cigarette into his mouth, but didn’t light it. He’d been trying to quit smoking for months, but kept falling back on the habit in times of stress. Not that their job wasn’t always stressful. “I know you don’t like it, and neither do I, but we have to do everything we can to save this girl.”

As if Brad didn’t know that.

But bringing Lisa out of hiding to do so didn’t seem like the smartest idea. Besides, he wasn’t sure she could help.

Or maybe he was losing his edge again. His perspective.

Because Brad Booker, man with no mercy, had found a heart when he’d heard Lisa’s tale of horrors. And when he’d pulled her from that grave and held her, he’d felt a personal connection.

He couldn’t afford to have a heart. Not with Mindy’s life on the line.

“You’re right.” He loosened his tie, cleared this throat, swallowed back bile. “I won’t tell Lisa on the phone. I have to see her in person.” He owed her that much.

Ethan nodded. “Keep in touch. I’ll call you after I talk to White’s cell mate.”

Brad pocketed his cell phone. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was track down Lisa and inform her that another Grave Digger was haunting the city, or make her relive the nightmare of her attack.

But he had to save Mindy’s life. And if Lisa remembered anything new that might help, he needed to talk to her.

LISA MUST HAVE IMAGINED the shadow. Still, she couldn’t fall back to sleep, so she sat in the rocking chair for hours, staring at the window.

Early morning, the shadow reappeared. Footsteps clattered outside.

Lisa reached for the phone to dial 911 when a knock sounded at the door. She nearly jumped out of her skin.

For a few seconds, she could barely move, the fear she’d grappled with for the past four years paralyzing her. Then sanity returned, and she dragged in huge gulping breaths, trying to calm herself. A serial killer wouldn’t announce himself at the door.

Only hers had four years ago. She’d actually been dating him and hadn’t known it….

Besides, how had the window gotten open? And why had she lost power when it hadn’t been storming?

The knock jolted her again, and she raced to her bedroom, yanked on a full-length cotton robe and belted it, then pushed her disheveled hair from her face as she hurried to the door.

She rarely had visitors. Mrs. Simmerson from across the valley occasionally stopped by with homemade goods, and occasionally Ruby dropped by for a visit, but never this early in the morning. Someone had rented the cabin about a half mile down the road, but she hadn’t met him yet. She didn’t intend to, either.

“Miss Long, it’s your new neighbor. Name’s Aiden Henderson.”

She tensed at the sound of the man’s voice. It was deep. Scratchy. A smoker’s voice. “What do you want and how do you know my name?”

“The real estate agent told me.” He cleared his throat. “I…the power went off, so I thought I’d check and see if it was just my place or everyone else’s.”