Cheryl Bradshaw: Sinnerman

She bobbed her shoulders up and down.

“Alright then, what do you want to say—do you want to address him directly?”

I nodded.

“Tell him this: I’m coming for you, and this time, I won’t stop until the only life you have left is behind bars.”

CHAPTER 4

Maddie had left and turned her post over to Nick who entered the house with a displeased look on his face.

“I’m coming for you, you’re kidding me—right?”

“I hoped Maddie would keep that to herself,” I said.

He slid his hand into his back pocket and pulled out his cell phone and flipped it open.

“I assume they haven’t run the paper yet since that girl was just here a few minutes ago,” he said. “One quick call and I can have it taken out.”

I shook my head and placed my hand over his phone and pushed it down.

“It stays,” I said.

“Are you trying to put a target on your back?”

“If that’s what it takes to get his attention, then yes,” I said.

“Even if that means you’d put yourself at risk?”

I sighed. He was in one of those moods where it didn’t matter what I said. He couldn’t be reasoned with, and it almost took more effort than it was worth to try.

“Maybe it would be best if we didn’t talk about this right now,” I said.

Nick walked over to me and placed both hands on the sides of my shoulders and looked me square in the eye.

“This guy is out there killing women, and he could be anyone. Hell, he could be your next door neighbor for all you know. We don’t even have any good leads yet. All you’re asking for is trouble.”

“I’m asking for justice, and I thought we both wanted that—for Gabby and all the other victims. This creep has gotten away with a slew of murders. He walks free while the women he murdered live in eternal unrest inside a coffin, knowing the man who killed them is still out there. They’ve been robbed, all of them, from the opportunity of a full life. And if I have even the slightest chance to catch the guy this time and send him straight to hell, I’m going to take it.”

“You shouldn’t be anywhere near this. You’re too emotional. Can’t you see that?”

“It’s too late for that,” I said. “I was involved from the moment he took Gabby from me.”

Nick shook his head.

“By the end of the week I bet we have a dozen guys on this, not to mention the FBI. That’s why it would be best for you to let us do our job.”

“Don’t you mean it would be better for you?” I said. “That’s what you believe, isn’t it? Just because you’re a detective doesn’t mean you have the right to make decisions for me.”

He grimaced and detached his hands from my shoulders and then walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of Crown Royal out of the cabinet and a glass. He poured himself a drink and took a nice long swig and then hammered it down on the counter. The glass made a ringing sound when it hit and a portion of the liquid flew up into the air and sloshed down on the counter. I wanted to say: I’m not cleaning that up, but I didn’t.

After a minute of silence where Nick downed the rest of his drink and I tried not to focus on the liquid that had spread in two directions and trickled like a diminutive stream toward the edge of my counter, he looked over at me and said, “I understand your feelings for the guy, or the lack thereof, and you have every right to hate him for what he’s done—no one disputes that. But if you go after him on your own, you’ll put yourself at risk and I can’t allow that.”

He couldn’t allow it?

“Maybe you should go,” I said.

“I just got here.”

I grabbed my keys off the counter.

“Then I’ll go. It’s been a long day. I need some time to think.”

He started to say something, but it was too late. I was already out the front door, and it had shut itself behind me. And for the first time in ten minutes I remembered what it felt like to breathe again.

CHAPTER 5

In the years that had elapsed since Gabrielle’s death, not a single day went by when I didn’t think of her or him, whoever he was, and though I hated the fact that the killings had resumed, him being back on the prowl gave me the second chance I needed; once again he was within my grasp. The first time around I was too wrapped up in my emotions with the loss of Gabby to concentrate on catching her killer. I left it to the homicide unit to do that, and I thought they’d come through and find the piece of trash responsible for the brutal killings. But they didn’t, and I wasn’t about to let that happen again. Not this time.

I hopped out of bed and walked to the front door and opened it. The morning sun blasted its rays across my face, and I held my hand in front of my eyes to shield myself from it while I reached down with the other and retrieved the paper. I shut the front door and carried it to the kitchen. Lord Berkeley trotted past me and yawned and then went over to his water bowl and peered in. When he didn’t see what he wanted, he stuck one paw in the bowl and moved it back and forth which produced a sound like a quarter being dropped into a glass jar.

“Your mommy is going to be the talk of the town today,” I said to him.

He looked at me and then at his bowl and then back at me again. His only concern seemed to be whether what I just said had anything to do with him getting what he wanted, now. I gripped his bowl in my hand and topped it off and set it back down. He did a few spins to show his eternal gratitude and then buried his face in the bowl and savored his reward.

I made some tea and pulled the rubber band off the paper. It fell open, and the headline of the day was revealed for all to see in bold capital letters:

SISTER OF MURDER VICTIM GABRIELLE MONROE VOWS REVENGE!

It was a bit on the dramatic side, but the paper had done its job. The headline was followed by an article that chronicled the events in the order in which they happened three years earlier. The past had come back, and I’d been given a second chance. I leaned back in my chair and smiled. Ready, set—go.

CHAPTER 6

The day was halfway gone when I walked through the double doors of the Park City Police Station. Rose looked up from the reception desk when I entered and grinned.

“Sloane, it’s great to see you. I’ve had you on my mind all day today.”

“Good to see you too,” I said.

“Are you doing okay?”

It had been less than eighty hours since Sinnerman’s latest victim was captured and killed, and the main thing on everyone’s mind was how I was dealing with it. I’d started to feel like a wounded puppy—but I put on a brave face and smiled because in the end, I knew they meant well.

“I’m just fine Rose,” I said. “I appreciate your concern. Is Coop around?”

She wrinkled her nose and made a face like a foul odor had just wafted into the building.

“For a smart girl, you sure like to take your chances,” she said.

I smiled.

“Is he here?”

She pointed in the direction of a side room which housed computers and the like.

“If you follow the scent of Old Spice you’ll smack right into him,” she said.

We both laughed, and I thanked her. She nodded with the crazed look still cemented on her face but said nothing.

Coop was alone when I snuck into the room, and his face was positioned about two inches away from the computer screen. He was eyeballing some photos of women, one of whom was my sister. I stood inside the doorway and knocked on the wall a few times to get his attention. He jerked his head up and swung it around and then pressed a button on the keyboard. The screen went black. He made a barely audible grunt noise and turned his head away from me.