The man thought about it a moment before shrugging. “For as long as I can remember. Why do you ask?”
“Do you remember anyone coming in here in the past six or seven months and purchasing multiple timers?”
The man was quiet again before shrugging. “Not that I can remember. Not the kind of thing I think about. Course, I’m not the only one who works the counters in here. Someone else could have sold some. I usually only keep three in stock, though.”
“Do you have any way of tracing who you’ve sold these to?”
Alfred snorted and shook his head. “Son, I’m what you young folks call ‘old school.’ I don’t keep records like some of these new stores. If I see something’s getting low, I order more. That’s about it when it comes to inventory for me.”
Madison’s hopes plunged. This could have been the lead they were looking for. Now it appeared they were no closer than before.
“Is everything okay, detective?”
“We’re trying to track down some leads in an investigation. If you can remember anything about those timers, I need to know.”
Alfred paused from sweeping, his eyes at once curious. “I heard we had a serial killer on the loose. Are these timers connected?”
Brody stiffened. “A serial killer? Where did you hear that?”
“On the news this afternoon. Lead story. I never thought about locking my doors before. You better believe I will be tonight, though.”
Madison felt her face drain of its color. She prayed that Brody wouldn’t draw any attention to her, to give Alfred any clue that she was one of the intended victims. The last thing she wanted was to answer everyone’s questions.
Brody scowled and pulled a card from his pocket. “If you think of anything, give me a call.”
“Will do.”
Brody put his hand on Madison’s back to guide her out of the store. He led her to his car, and she glanced at her watch. They had just enough time to make it to her next appointment.
Just as they pulled away from the grocery store, an explosion shook the car. Madison turned around and saw the grocery store was in flames.
* * *
Madison gasped as she watched the flames that engulfed the old grocery store. The whole place was lit with fire. There was no way Alfred had survived. Even by the time Madison and Brody had arrived back on the scene, flames had licked every inch of the old wooden building. Three fire trucks surrounded it now and their hoses doused the fire. Numerous other safety vehicles surrounded the place.
Madison pulled her lips into a tight line. Poor Alfred. Though she hadn’t known the man, she did know that no one deserved to die like this. They’d arrived too late to help the business owner. She did take some comfort in knowing that no one else had been inside.
Brody had ordered her to stay in the car. She could see him talking to Sheriff Carl in the distance. Sweat beaded on his forehead, partly from the heat of the day and partly from the inferno in front of him. From the way the two men talked, it seemed obvious that Brody was giving the sheriff a rundown on what he knew.
Sirens wailed in the background, signaling that more rescue vehicles were on their way. She shivered. Had the killer known they were going to be here?
Was he watching them now?
A few minutes later, Brody slid back into the driver’s seat. Since he didn’t reach for the steering wheel, it was obvious he didn’t have intentions of leaving at the moment. He simply sat there, his head resting on the seat, the AC blowing on his face. After a couple of minutes he finally looked at Madison. “You okay?”
“You ask that a lot.”
“You’ve been through a lot.”
“I can’t argue that. I’m fine, I guess. I just don’t understand. Was that explosion intended for us? Was the killer laying in wait until we left and then he blew up the building? Or this is not connected at all, just a terrible coincidence?”
“We don’t know the exact cause of the fire yet, but right now everything points to the propane tanks behind the building. An investigator will determine whether it was an accident or not.”
“The tanks were behind the building? Someone could have been outside and caused the explosion.”
“Or it could have just been a horrible chance event.”
“There are too many coincidences. This wasn’t an accident.”
Brody’s gaze fixated on her a moment, his eyes serious and something unsaid playing there. “I think you’re right.”
“Could the killer have been outside the whole time?”
“It’s doubtful. We’ll know more later.”
Madison shuddered. Was the killer lurking in the shadows right now? Was he always one step ahead of them and were they naive enough not to know it? Madison might be that oblivious, but not Brody. Certainly he would know. This killer just seemed so thorough, like he didn’t miss a beat. How did he do it?
Brody squeezed her knee briefly, the action making her shudders become a shiver of awareness. “I need to go to the station for a minute. I need you to come with me.”
She blinked at his words. “You need me to come with you?”
“I’m not letting you out of my sight. I’ll pay you the money you’re losing from forfeiting this photo shoot if I have to.”
“No, I understand. I’ll call and see if I can reschedule.” Right now she had to think about the greater good. The greater good—more important than paying her bills even—was getting this man behind bars.
* * *
Madison’s questions were excellent, Brody mused as he headed back to the station. Was the explosion meant to injure Brody or Madison? Had the killer been nearby, following their footsteps to the extent that he’d known they were going to that grocery store? But how would he have known? Even if the killer had had a suspicion, he wouldn’t have known when Brody and Madison would have arrived. Certainly the man hadn’t waited all day for them to show up.
Whoever this killer was, he was deeply disturbed. He needed to be locked up.
“Brody?” Madison’s sweet voice broke him from his thoughts.
He pulled his gaze from the road for a moment to glance at her. “Yes?”
“Did you figure out who William is?” Her voice cracked as she asked the question.
“Not yet.”
“What do you even do with that kind of information? Do you warn all the Williams in York County that they may be a serial killer’s next target?”
“That would only cause chaos. We’re looking into each of the people in the area who have that name. We’re looking into their backgrounds, trying to figure out who might be the next target. The problem is that this killer seems to have no modus operandi. None of the victims have a lot in common.” He sighed heavily. “The first two were men in their twenties—one single and one going through a divorce. Then our suspect targeted you, a widow and single mom. Next he targeted a single nurse who just moved to the area.”
“We’ve all got to have something in common.”
“I agree. We just have to figure out what.”
Madison shook her head and leaned back into her seat. “We’ve got a serial killer here in York County. I never thought those words would leave my mouth. York County is such a safe place.”
He gripped the steering wheel. “It
was
such a safe place. No place is immune to crime anymore.”
“You have to admit you didn’t even expect it here though, did you? You’re from New York. You probably moved here to get away from all of that.”
So much for that plan. Apparently, crime had followed him here. “I do like the slower pace.”
Her voice changed from pensive to inquisitive. “Why’d you move here, Brody?”
The familiar ache between his shoulders returned. He prayed for a phone call or his gaslight to flicker on—anything to help him avoid Madison’s question. Finally he realized he had no excuses. It didn’t matter, he told himself. Neither of them were interested in a relationship, so there was no pressure to impress her. He shouldn’t care what she thought. “I needed to get away. I needed to leave my old life behind.”
“Was your old life that bad?” Her voice sounded quiet.
He shrugged and flipped up the AC another notch. “Depends on who you ask.”
“I’m asking you.”
He shrugged again and forced himself not to tug at his collar like he wanted. “I was living for myself.”
“Doesn’t bring you much pleasure, does it?”
“No, it doesn’t.” He glanced at her, happy for the excuse to change the subject. “You sound like you know.”
“I had my moments in college of being totally self-absorbed.”
He had a hard time seeing Madison as self-absorbed. “You don’t seem like the type.”
“Getting married and having a child helps you grow up. So does learning to rely on God.”
God.
That was one subject he hadn’t expected to come up. “I wouldn’t know about that.”
“Not a churchgoer?”
“Not since I was a kid and then it was only on holidays. Am I allowed to call them holidays? Or do I have to say Christmas?”
Madison smiled. “Christmas, please. But don’t change the subject.”
He cut a glance at her and offered a teasing grin. “You’re not going to try and convert me, are you?”
“Am I trying to convert you if I say that it’s too bad you’ve never learned to rely on God? It’s never too late, you know.”
“Yeah, I know. If I ever consider it, I’ll let you know.” He didn’t ever plan on reconsidering, however.
“Relying on Him has helped me get through some dark days.”
He hated to think about Madison going through dark days, but that was exactly what she was going through right now. If it was within his power, he’d scare away the storm clouds and make sure they never came back. “I’ve heard God’s good for that.”
“Give Him a shot sometime.”
He looked over and smiled, not a wide, bright smile, but a mischievous one. “You’re a little pushy sometimes. Did you know that?”
“I haven’t been told that in a very long time, detective.”
Why did hearing her say that bring him a certain amount of pleasure? Then he realized it was because they were flirting, one of his favorite pastimes. He needed to nip their playfulness in the bud before he got other ideas in his head. Madison was off-limits. Relationships were off-limits. He had to get his life figured out first.
ELEVEN
M
adison’s eyes scanned the pictures on Brody’s office desk. The photos jutted out from a file folder, and she was pretty sure she wasn’t supposed to see them since she wasn’t a part of the investigation. The edges of the pictures teased her, though. She knew exactly what they were—crime-scene photos. Her gaze fixated on them.
A knot formed in her gut as the crime scenes came into focus. Horrific was the only word she could think of to describe the photos taken where lives had ended. It could have been her in those images. She would never take for granted how fortunate she was to have survived.
While Brody chatted with another detective in the other room, she picked up a photo. There was no body in this picture, but instead the photo captured other elements of the scene. Razor blades. An egg timer. Blood. All the pictures were taken in what appeared to be an otherwise empty room.
Madison picked up another picture and squinted as she looked at it. This one was taken of the floor and showed a solitary shoe. In the background was a bookshelf. What about that bookshelf looked strange? There was something there that bugged her.
She looked closer and sucked in a breath. It couldn’t be—but it was.
She put the photo down and leaned back in her chair, letting what she’d just seen sink in. She hadn’t been seeing things or making anything up. Her eyes hadn’t been deceiving her—had they? She picked up the photo again and looked at the small image in the background. Yep, it was there. She had to get Brody.
The framed image on the bookcase at this crime scene was one of her pictures.
That couldn’t be a coincidence.
Shudders rippled down her spine as she hurried down the hall. The two detectives who were chatting stopped midsentence and turned to look at her.
She fumbled for words, wishing she’d sorted out how she’d bring up the conversation beforehand, especially since part of what she had to say meant owning up to her snooping. She held up a picture. “I shouldn’t have been looking at this, I know. But I did. And I’m glad I did.”
Brody stepped toward her, a knot between his eyebrows. He reached for the photo. “What are you talking about, Madison?”
“This crime-scene photo,” she held it up. “There’s a framed photograph that I took in the background of this picture.”
The detectives looked at each other, before Brody squinted at the crime scene photo. “The one of the Chesapeake Bay? How can you be sure? There are lots of pictures of the bay out there.”
“I’m sure. I remember taking it. I remember that boat and that sunset. A photographer doesn’t forget her own pictures. I took it.”
Brody and the other detective looked at each other another moment before Brody finally nodded. “Let’s look at those other crime scenes.”
* * *
Madison sat on the couch at Kayla’s house and flipped on the TV. She’d assured Brody that she’d stay put and keep all the doors locked until he returned. She knew the detective had to investigate the pictures from the crime-scene photos, on top of the explosion at the local grocer. In the meantime, a deputy sat outside her home.
Kayla was cutting out some shapes for the preschool class and Lincoln busied himself for a few minutes with some building blocks. Madison was thankful because she needed some time to decompress and process everything that had happened today.
A story on the news caught her attention. “A string of suicides in York County might actually be the work of a serial killer. So far three people have died because of a killer that many are calling the Suicide Bandit, who murders his victims but makes it looks like they took their own lives. The latest victim was found last night in the Dandy area in York County. Her name has not yet been released, but it’s believed she was a nurse at a local hospital. One of the victims survived but has yet to be named by the police.”
The video footage cut to a local reporter who stood at one of the piers in Seaford. Before Madison could listen to what the reporter said, a knock sounded at the front door. The ever-present tension in her shoulders tightened.