The Seventh Victim (30 page)

Right on schedule she sauntered out of the bar and got into her car.

By his reckoning, she’d be well outside Austin city limits when her tire went flat.

He turned up his radio listening to his favorite Lynyrd Skynyrd song on the radio. He tapped his hand on the steering wheel in time to the music and started to whistle. This was going to be a good night. Yes, sir, a good night.

He was careful to stay a couple of car lengths behind her as she worked her way out of town. Several times she hit her brakes for no apparent reason. He worried that she suspected that something was wrong with her car, but each time rationalized away what she did not want to believe. He smiled when he saw her raise her phone to her ear. No cell phone service. She had a problem. A very big problem.

He followed her for fifteen minutes down I-35 and by the time she approached an exit, the tire started to noticeably wobble. She inched over to the side of the road and took the exit, finding herself on a deserted side road. Perfect.

He slowed, put on his blinker, and parked behind her. He waited a beat. Let the fear settle in deep. Then he walked up to her car and knocked on her window.

She jumped and dropped her lifeless phone in her lap as she cracked her window. “Hey!”

“You all right?”

“Yeah, great.” A tentative, nervous smile said otherwise. “I just need to call a tow truck. My car is acting funny.”

“You have a flat. Back right tire. I could see when I was driving. Must have picked up a nail.”

She dragged fingers through her blond hair. “Shit. I mean, thanks. This is just the last thing that I needed.” She punched the number for information, waited, and then frowned. “No cell service here.”

“Yeah, this stretch is known for that. Let me try my phone. Maybe we’ll get lucky.” We. He’d already established them as a team. We are in this together. He dialed 411 and pretended to hit SEND. The jammer should have blocked any call this close to the car, but he didn’t want to take the chance that his phone would work.

After a reasonable pause he said, “Sorry, no service. Let me walk back to my car. Sometimes just moving a little will help with the reception.”

She craned her neck toward his car. “Hey, thanks, I appreciate that.”

He walked back to his car and repeated the show. When he returned, he was shaking his head. “I drive this stretch of road all the time. About six months ago I had car trouble near here and couldn’t get a signal at all. Had to walk four miles to the first gas station.”

“Four miles. Are we that far from anywhere?” Fear hummed under the words.

“Maybe just three. Hang tight, let me try again. We’ll figure this out.” He’d been careful not to ask her to open her door or come to his car. A woman alone would have clenched up at the thought.

After another pause he came back. “Sorry. I’d offer you a ride, but I don’t want to come across as weird or scary.”

She smiled, her look almost apologetic. “Creeps out there ruin it for nice guys like you.”

“Why don’t I drive into town and see if I can find a gas station or a signal and send them your way?”

“Oh, God, that is so nice. I don’t know what to say.” She picked up her phone and dialed again. Again, no signal.

“By the way, I’m Dan,” he said. “That way if a tow truck stops you’ll know I sent them.”

She softened even more, and this time she unrolled her window and stuck out her hand. “I’m Pamela.”

He clasped her cool, soft fingers in his large, calloused hand. How simple would it be to yank her forward, grab her throat, and strangle her until she passed out? “Nice to meet you, Pamela.”

She smiled.

He released her hand. He wanted her to open the door. He wanted her to trust him just like the others had trusted him. “Be sure to keep your doors locked out here while I’m gone. All kinds of odd folks out here.”

She nibbled her bottom lip. “How long do you think you’ll be gone?”

“If the gas station I have in mind is open, just twenty or thirty minutes.” He checked his watch. “But at this time of night it’s anyone’s guess. Don’t worry; if they are closed I’ll keep looking. I won’t leave you stranded, Pamela.”

She glanced down the deserted road, the worry lines in her brow deepening. “Would you mind if I tagged along with you, Dan?”

He kept his emotions in reserve. “I’m glad to take you, Pamela, but you don’t know me.” This was part of the game. Denying what they wanted made them want it all the more.

She offered him a sure and steady smile. “I know people, Dan, and you seem okay to me. I mean, if you were a creep, you’d have dragged me out of the window when I shook your hand.”

He took a step back and put his hands in his pockets. He understood what an innocent man should look like. “You’re the boss, Pamela.”

She rolled up her window, shut off the engine of her car, and grabbed her keys and purse. Without a second thought she opened her car door.

He grinned, trying not to let the adrenaline of the hunt make him twitch. He was getting good at this. Now that he was more skilled, he could take his time, and savor the hunt.

She locked her car and smiled. “After you, Dan.”

He moved toward his car, relishing the idea that she was following him to her death. He reached for his car door, opened it as she approached.

As she was about to get into the car, car headlights appeared around the bend. He tensed, ducking his head ever so slightly so the passing motorist wouldn’t be able to describe him if ever questioned.

But the motorist did not pass. Instead he pulled up behind his car and shone bright lights on him, Pamela, and their two cars.

The guy got out, but hovered by his car so that the headlights and the darkness obscured his face and body. “There a problem here?”

Dan cleared his throat. If he was clever, he could fool this one and still keep his prey. “Her car broke down. I’m giving her a ride to the station.”

“You try to call a truck?” the man said.

Pamela moved toward the light a step farther away from him. “No cell service out here.”

“Really? I’ve got bars. Let me give it a try.” The man dialed and seconds later he was on the phone with a gas station and ordering a tow truck. “Got a truck on the way,” he said cheerfully.

“Oh, that is wonderful,” Pamela said. She moved farther away from him. With each step he could feel her slipping away.

He thought about the gun in his glove box. He could kill them both now. But that would create a mess, and there was a tow truck driver on the way. He slammed the passenger-side door a bit harder than he’d intended. “Well, it sounds like you’re all set, Pamela.”

Pamela’s lips trembled as she met Dan’s gaze. “Hey, Dan, I truly appreciate your help. I would have freaked if you’d not been here. Life’s been kind of a mess lately and this was the last thing I needed.”

“It takes a village, doesn’t it, Dan?” the rescuer said.

“It sure does.” He moved to the driver’s side, now wanting nothing more than to be gone from this place.

Pamela opened her door and slid behind the wheel. She closed her door but didn’t lock it.

“Tow truck should be here any minute,” the rescuer said.

“Yeah,” Dan said.

“Want to stick around?”

He searched past the headlights, still not seeing more than a large silhouette. “Naw. Looks like you’ve got it covered.”

“I sure do, Dan. I sure do.”

For the first time a cold shiver inched up his spine, and he sensed this rescuer had an agenda. What the hell would a random stranger want from him? Certainly he hadn’t been followed, had he?

“I didn’t catch your name,” Dan said.

“No. I didn’t give it.” The rescuer’s phone beeped and he glanced at a text. “Looks like the cavalry is minutes away.”

“God, you two have been great,” Pamela said. Tears welled in her eyes and tumbled down her cheeks. “I’d have been so lost without you.”

“Yeah. Looks like.” Dan got behind the wheel of his car and fired up the engine, not sure if he was more frustrated, angry, or scared.

Chapter 17

Thursday, May 31, 7
AM

Beck got the call minutes after he arrived at the office. Another body had been found on the side of Interstate 35. A young woman. White dress. Strangled. Immediately, he placed a call to Lara. Her home phone rang once, twice, three times. With each ring, his heartbeat quickened. He dialed her cell.

“Yes?”

The sound of her groggy voice released the tension in his back. “I woke you. I’m sorry. But I needed to make sure you were okay.”

“Beck? What is going on? What time is it?” He imagined her pushing her blond hair out of her eyes as she swung her bare legs over the side of the bed.

“Seven o’clock.”

“I worked in the darkroom last night until three. I didn’t mean to sleep late. Why did you call?”

He hesitated, knowing he was breaking protocol. “I can’t go into detail, but there’s been another murder.”

A long, heavy silence drifted through the lines.

“Are you still there?” he said.

“Yes. I’m here.” Her voice sounded soft, fragile even. “I’m so sorry. Do you know who was killed?”

“I haven’t even been to the scene. I just wanted to touch base with you before I went.” Knowing she was safe would free his mind to think about the case.

“Be careful,” she said.

Her concern touched him. “You are coming by the office today to see Dr. Granger?”

“In a couple of hours.”

“Come in now.”

“I have the student art show to set up today and tomorrow.”

Temptation told him to ignore the investigation and haul her back to headquarters with him where she’d be safe. “Get out of that house. Surround yourself with people.”

“Okay, sure.”

“Be careful.”

He hung up and smoothed a hand over his head. As he’d dialed Lara and counted the rings, he’d not been thinking rationally like a professional. He’d reacted like a man, worried about a woman.

Beck didn’t want to analyze his feeling for Lara. He cared about her safety and that was enough for now.

He redialed, this time placing a call to Santos, who picked up on the first ring. “Santos.”

“It’s Beck. We’ve got another body.” He was scanning his desk as he spoke, triaging the active cases. All could wait until he saw the body.

“Where?”

“Thirty miles outside of Austin.” As he gave Santos the details, he shut off his computer and moved toward the door where his coat hung, all the while cradling the phone.

“I’m a good one hundred miles from there. Got a call from a local sheriff about a drug problem. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Good.”

Beck closed up his office and headed down the hallway to see his commander, Captain Ryder Penn. Beck knocked. Penn glanced up, a phone cradled under his ear. He motioned Beck inside. “You’re headed to the murder scene?”

“Bad news travels fast.”

“That was the mayor of Austin chewing on my ass. Won’t be long before the politicians come out of the woodwork looking for a pound of my flesh.”

“Santos and I are on it.”

Penn rose, shrugging his broad shoulders. “Is the body Lara Church?”

The question shot through him like a bullet. “No. I spoke to her.”

“She needs to get her ass back into these offices and speak to Dr. Granger.”

“She’s promised to be in within the hour.”

“If she’s not I’m sending a car for her.”

Beck’s hackles rose. This was his case. Lara was his witness. His. “It’s under control.”

Penn glared at him. “It better be.”

Beck arrived at the scene as the medical examiner’s inspector was photographing the body. Beck studied the rural stretch of road. A killer with a woman alone would have all the time in the world to do what he wanted to her.

He tugged his hat forward on his head, shielding the sun, and moved toward the crime scene. He stood by the site, watching as a forensic tech sketched the scene on a white pad.

As he looked at the victim he had the immediate sense that this murder was different. The blond woman wore a white dress, but the body didn’t appear so traumatized. Yes, the angry finger marks of strangulation marred her neck, but her arms and face appeared unbruised.

“What do you think?” Beck asked the technician.

The technician rose and backed away from the body. “I don’t know if he was in a hurry or what, but he doesn’t appear to have ... toyed with this one as much.”

So his impression was right. “Explain.”

“No bruising or trauma other than the strangulation marks. And the ME will have to confirm, but there appears to be no sign of sexual trauma.”

A breeze blew across the grasslands fluttering through the victim’s hair and ruffling the edges of her white dress.
Why not assault her? You had plenty of time out here.

“Thanks.” He moved to the uniformed officer who had been the first responder to the scene. He shook the guy’s hand. Beck had been with DPS nearly nine years and in that time had gotten to know a lot of the local sheriffs and deputies. “Matt, good to see you. When they move you up from Waco?”

Deputy Matt Jerrod was six one, broad-shouldered with the straight back posture that hinted to his time in the marines. He wore his hair short. A dark shadow covered his square jaw, telling Beck the deputy had worked the night through. “Few months back. Already miss the place. You been back lately?”

“Wish I could. Wish I could. I stay close to Austin these days.”

“City living is going to make you soft.”

“I hear ya. I do.” Beck asked Matt about his family and the politics of the local election before he asked, “Who found the body?”

“We got a call into the sheriff’s office. A motorist spotted the body and called us.”

“Do you have the name of the caller?”

Deputy Jerrod arched a brow. “The call came in on a disposable phone. No trace. But then that’s not unheard of in these parts. We got lots of folks coming across the border who don’t want to be traced.”

That was true, but most wouldn’t have paused to call in a dead body. “You ever have an illegal or coyote call in a murder?”