she still associated the smell of peppermint with him. To this day she couldn't even look at a candy cane. "He can go anywhere he wants," she said. "He'll be a free man."
"Will you be able to find out where he settles?"
"He's supposed to register as a sex offender, so anyone can keep track of him." But whether he actually did was another story. Sacramento had only two detectives to follow up on more than 2,500 sex offenders.
"Just what you want to do, eh? Check the Megan's Law Web site every morning while you pour yourself a cup of tea."
"Thank goodness there is a registry. Imagine how helpless past victims have felt."
"Why not move closer to us, escape the memories and the threat?
Now that she's going back for her master's, Brenna's pretty wrapped up in her life at San Diego State, but she comes to visit probably once a month.
And Dad's close by."
Distance from Sacramento was no escape, just the illusion of escape.
"I don't want to move, Jen."
"Why not? There's plenty of violent crime down here. This is L.A., remember? You could open up an expansion office."
Skye liked living in the house where she'd grown up. Besides, Sheridan and Jasmine needed her. And, although she didn't want to acknowledge it, even to herself, Detective Willis was here.... "Maybe someday."
This answer was met with silence.
"Jennifer?"
"I don't know what to say," her stepsister admitted. "I'm scared, so I know you must be, too. Only I don't want to tell you I'm scared in case I make this harder on you."
Skye turned onto Greenback Lane. "I'll be okay."
"How will you be okay? What'11 you do if he comes after you again?"
"I'll kill him."
"I wish there'd been some hesitation before you said that. It gave me chills."
It was pointless to try and explain the desperation that created such resolve. Skye decided it was better to get off the phone. "I've got to go."
"Are you mad at me?"
"No, I have an appointment."
"Will you call me later?"
Skye turned into the driveway that led to Noah's office. His car wasn't 114
in the front lot, but she could see a truck-- with an NSL Construction logo on the door--when she peered down the alley.
"Skye?" Jennifer prompted.
"Sure, in an hour or two," she said, parking off to the side where she couldn't immediately be spotted through the large window. It wouldn't be a big deal if he did see her car. She was about to speak to him, in any case.
But this way, he'd have less time to prepare.
David was pretty sure the journal Skye had dropped by the station was Burke's, especially now that he could read it. Using letter statistics and letter positions, it had taken the cryptographer to whom David had copied and faxed just three pages less than two hours to break what turned out to be a basic transposition cipher. The notebook contained a list of initials that corresponded with various offenses, and many of the names and offenses had been crossed out. S.E. Rude at the office... T.L. Disrespectful in front of K.P... J.O. Unkind to wife... P.B. Discourteous again... S.W. Ignorant as always... L.B. Distrusting asshole... T.M. Dishonest...
He'd notified Skye as soon as he learned it himself, but she hadn't had time to talk. She'd been about to go into a meeting of some kind. So when his phone rang an hour later, he thought she might be calling him back.
Dragging himself out of his immersion in the notebook, he answered.
"Detective Willis."
"This is Miranda Dodge. You left me an e-mail about Oliver Burke."
David scooted his chair closer to the desk. "Yes, thanks for calling, Ms. Dodge."
"It's Miranda. I'm sorry I couldn't get back to you earlier. I help out at my daughter's school every Thursday and just got home."
"I understand."
"What can I do to help? Has Oliver gotten himself in trouble again?"
David set aside the notebook. "I suspect he might be responsible for some pretty heinous crimes. What can you tell me about him?"
"Not a lot. We were never really friends."
"When do you remember first becoming aware of him?"
"I guess when you look at it that way, we go back a few years," she said with a little laugh. "My family moved to Sacramento while I was in fifth grade. He was in my class at Schweitzer Elementary."
"Did you like him?"
"Not especially. But I felt sorry for him."
"Why?"
"Everyone picked on him."
Surprised, David tapped his desk with the eraser end of a pencil.
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Burke came from a supportive, middle-class home, he possessed a higher-than-average intelligence and he was generally considered good-looking.
"What was there to tease him about?"
"He was small for his age and sort of uncoordinated. When we'd go out for recess or have P.E., the other boys would fight about which team had to take Oliver. Pretty soon, he quit trying to play with the boys and started hanging out with the girls. Except that didn't work so well, either. They were the only ones who'd accept him, but he sometimes acted like he hated them for it. And, as he got older, some of the kids started accusing him of being gay, refused to change in front of him in the locker room, that kind of stuff."
"How did he react?"
"It enraged him. I mean, beyond what you might expect. At lunch, a boy yelled out that Oliver had tried to touch his butt and Oliver freaked out.
It's the only time I ever saw him fight."
David nodded at another detective who called out a greeting as he passed by. "It actually came to blows?"
"Only that once, at least as far as I remember. It was in the eighth grade. Oliver definitely got the worst of it. But I saw his father when he came to the school that day. Here was this slender boy with a rather pretty face, covered in blood, yet Mr. Burke expressed absolutely no concern or alarm. He looked almost...triumphant, as if Oliver had finally done something he approved of."
David wondered if Burke had started keeping lists way back then.
"Did the taunts stop after that?"
"Unfortunately not. If anything, they grew worse. Until high school.
By then, the kid he'd fought had died in a drowning accident, so he wasn't around to harass him anymore. Besides, Oliver was no longer that small for his age, and he'd managed to find places where he could fit in. Debate team.
Academic stuff like that. He was also old enough to pair off with a girl, and did so whenever he could, which stopped most of the slurs on his masculinity."
"He seemed happier?"
"Definitely. Especially after he got a steady girlfriend who was older, a hairstylist or something. Then he walked around acting like he was the coolest guy on campus."
"So when did you catch him peeping at you?"
"After the Homecoming dance when we were seniors."
David typed the details into Microsoft Word. "That was after he hooked up with Jane."
"Jane?"
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"His wife. He married the older girl you mentioned."
"I didn't know that. But I find it interesting that he'd bother spying on me if he was still with her."
So did David. It showed that having Jane in his life didn't stop Burke from acting on his less-than-appropriate impulses. "Did you ever hear of him bothering other girls--peeping, stalking, that sort of thing?"
"No, but I'm almost positive he was the one who sent me anonymous love letters. I can't imagine how he got the combination to my locker, but that was where he'd put them."
"What makes you think Oliver was behind the letters?"
"The way he'd stare at me. Especially right after I received one. It was as if he enjoyed my mortified reaction."
"What'd the letters say?"
"Some were really explicit. Gross, particularly to a seventeen-year-old girl. And they always included suggestions of violence and these little drawings along the edges."
David eyed the picture of a knife dripping with blood in the notebook.
"What kind of drawings?"
"Various pictures of boys and girls, hands, faces, wedding rings, eyes, sexual organs. It changed, except for the naked breasts and the knife. Those were always there."
A rush of adrenaline propelled David to his feet. 'Tell me you still have one of those letters."
"No. I'm sorry. They weren't something I wanted to keep. I told my parents about them, and they had me turn them over to the principal."
If David could connect those letters to Burke, along with this notebook, he'd be able to prove Burke had entertained fantasies involving knives and women well before his attack on Skye and the murders along the river.... "Did the principal ever question Oliver?"
"He once called us both into his office. Oliver showed him that the handwriting didn't match and claimed he'd have no way of knowing the combination to my locker. Mr. Easton let him go."
"Did you receive any more letters from him after that?"
"No. But it was only another week or so before I caught Oliver peeping at me through my bedroom window."
David guessed this was where Oliver's cravings had begun to escalate.
"Did it make him angry that you told your parents?"
"Not that he revealed. He made up some elaborate lie about how he'd just been trying to get my attention, to see if I'd come out and talk to him."
"What happened after that?"
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"Nothing. We moved across town and I finished my senior year in Roseville."
That move might've saved Miranda's life. Or the move she made afterward, the one that took her away from Sacramento and the young man who was sexually obsessed with her. "When did you leave the area entirely?"
"After I graduated from high school. I headed to New York to start my modeling career."
"Is that where you live now?"
"No, I'm in Jersey. More house for the money."
"Has Burke tried to contact you since you left Sacramento?"
"He sent me a card once, after the spread in Playboy."
"How'd he get your address?"
"He contacted my mother and dropped enough names of kids I'd gone to school with that she believed we were old friends."
"She didn't remember the stalking incident?"
"No, it was so far from her mind at that point that she didn't clue in.
Even if she had, she probably would've discounted the past, figuring it'd been what so many people claimed it was--typical teenage sexual experimentation and curiosity. Especially when he introduced himself as Dr.
Burke."
"What'd the card say?"
"He told me he was an 'affluent' dentist now and that if I ever came back to town he'd whiten my teeth for free. He also said I could stay in his guest house."
"Did you respond?"
"No. I didn't want him to start bothering me again. It wasn't just the peeping incident. I still believe Oliver was the one who wrote all those scary letters."
David read over his notes. "Is there anything else that sticks out in your mind about Oliver Burke?"
There was a pause. "Not really. But he always gave me the creeps.
There's something odd about him, no matter how successful he became.
That's why I wasn't surprised by the attempted rape conviction."
Moving his mouse out of the way, David pulled the notebook toward him. There were several repetitions of Miranda's initials, which indicated she was on Burke's mind in a recurring fashion even after she left. M.D. Didn't respond... M.D. Thinks she's too good... M.D. The informant. If those initials belonged to another woman, it'd be one hell of a coincidence. And David didn't believe in coincidences. "Thank you for your time, Ms. Dodge," he 118
said. "You've been very helpful."
"Those heinous crimes you mentioned," she said. "Are we talking about other rape cases?"
"I'm talking about rape--and murder."
Silence. Then she said, "But he's still in prison, right?"
David instinctively checked his watch, which he'd been doing more frequently as it drew closer to the end of the day. It was nearly five. "He gets out tomorrow morning."
She gasped. "You don't think he'd ever look me up again, do you?"
M.D. Doesn 't realize... M.D. Someday. "I hope not. But you might want to take down your Web site."
"What?"
"If he Googles you, those pictures and the accessibility offered by that e-mail button will only whet his appetite for more contact."
"But my husband and I are...having some problems," she admitted. "I-I'm pretty sure we'll be separating, and I make my living off that Web site."
David rubbed his forehead. What could he say? He knew it'd be wiser to remove the temptation, but she had to be able to pay her bills. "I don't like it," he said. "But if you can't take it down entirely, at least remove the more risque pictures. Then keep your eyes open. And call me immediately if you hear from him."
"I will," she said.
She sounded nervous, but the subsequent click told him she was gone.
Noah Burke was older than his brother, but he was also bigger and better-looking. Although he had Oliver's fine sandy hair and blue eyes, his jaw and forehead were more pronounced, more masculine. As far as Skye was concerned, Jane had traded up. Except that Noah wasn't really available for a relationship. And the affair could easily trigger a murderous rage in the little pervert she'd married.
"What are you doing here?" Noah asked.
The only other people in the room, a secretary and a subcontractor--
judging by the conversation--glanced up from the invoice they were discussing.
Obviously, Oliver's brother recognized her, from TV or the trial or both. His eyes held suspicion, but he hadn't raised his voice.
"I need a few minutes of your time," she told him.
His eyes swept over her as if he was considering whether or not to throw her out. "We have no business together."
Skye threw back her shoulders. "I have to at least try to make you understand."
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The awkward silence on the part of the other two people seemed to convince Noah that this meeting might be better handled without an audience. Pursing his lips, he gave a little shrug. "Come on back to my office."