raised me after my parents died.” She stopped, stared off into space. “I can’t believe he’s back.”
Jake could tell she was reliving the terrible memories and the awful guilt of knowing one man had killed four young women just possibly so he could get to Ella. One faceless man who now had his daughter.
“I don’t know for sure if it’s him, but the MO is the same.”
“You need to brief me before we get going.”
He cleared his throat and wished he didn’t need to do this. “A whole lot of law enforcement people are out there looking, but I knew once I found that necklace I had to come and check on you.”
Ella whirled to stare at him. “And you also knew I’d want to help.”
“Yeah. I didn’t want you to hear this news from anybody else. I figured you’d strike out on your own to find him.”
“And Macey,” she added before she turned back to her busywork. “I’d have to find Macey.”
He couldn’t lie. “Yes. I really need you to help me figure out the clues and stay on this, Ella. We don’t have much time.”
Ella’s sky-colored eyes met his with a look of defiance, chased by a solid trepidation. “No, we don’t. But if this is him, then neither does he.”
Jake went silent while they both remembered what this man could do to a victim. He could see that horror written all over Ella’s face.
After Ella left the FBI, she came home to East Texas. At first, she only wanted to heal and get her bearings and maybe prove to herself that she still had courage to face those dense woods each day. But weeks had stretched into months and, finally, she’d resigned from her Dallas post and she’d never looked back.
Until now.
Jake followed her, checking weapons right behind her. Not used to him being around and certainly not nearly prepared for what he’d told her, she whirled around and gave him a nasty glare.
“Sorry,” he said, his gaze holding hers. “Old habits—”
“I can’t have you doing that, Jake,” she told him. “I need to think this through. He—whoever took Macey—told you he’d leave the next...drop...somewhere near Caddo Lake? That’s a lot of territory. So tell me everything about last night.”
Jake stood her Remington against the old hutch, but seemed to hesitate. What was he not telling her?
“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me everything,” she said with an air of gentle frustration. “I can take it.”
He nodded, glanced over at the Remington. “Took her from a car at the mall in Tyler just after closing time. She’d gone shopping with a friend after work, for a party dress. Her boyfriend, Luke Hurst, lives not far from here and he’d invited her to a Christmas dance.” Jake stopped and Ella watched as he reined in his emotions with a tight-lipped determination. “She was all excited about that dance.”
He went silent, then took in a breath. “The kidnapper apparently managed to park right next to them and when Macey went to get in on the passenger’s side, he hopped out of the driver’s side of his vehicle and used his open door to block her. So he grabbed her, held a gun to her head and shoved her into the truck, then got in and took off.”
“And the friend?”
“Rachel. Her best friend. Screamed her head off as she watched the pickup driving away.”
Ella’s heart hammered at the terrifying memories grabbing at her consciousness. Sweaty, dirty hands on her mouth and body. A gun held to her head. A sense of helplessness that she sometimes felt creeping back like a spider crawling on her skin.
“Description?”
“A dark hood and dark glasses, maybe a beard. The other girl was already behind the wheel in her car and it happened so fast, she didn’t get a good look at him. Said the truck was dark, maybe black. But she couldn’t tell us the make or model.”
“License plate?”
“Said she couldn’t see one in the dark. She was pretty shook up when the police called me.”
“And the boyfriend?”
“I’ve left messages, but his parents told me he works nights in town and sometimes doesn’t answer his phone when he’s at work. I came here first, but I’ve got people checking on him, too.” He checked his pocket pad notes. “Rachel—the friend Macey was with—knows Luke, though. She swears it wasn’t him and I believe her.”
“And when did you get the first clue?”
“Around midnight last night.” He sank back down on a chair. “I combed every inch of the mall and the surrounding neighborhoods. No black truck, no witnesses other than her friend. I went back to the mall to talk to the Tyler Police. When I got back to my truck, I saw a note on the dash. White paper, cutout letters of various sizes pasted on it.”
Just like the Dead Drop Killer. He never used phones or computers. Only left a paper trail leading to clues he called dead drops. Clues that he hid in obscure, out-of-the-way places and that worked like a scavenger hunt. The next of kin and law enforcement agencies had to follow the clues in hopes of reaching the victims in time.
They never made it.
They’d found all of the girls dead. Four of them over a two-year period until about five years ago. Five years ago, Ella had almost become his fifth victim. A decoy to flush out a killer, only the killer had somehow figured things out. Because, according to the profilers, the killer had always only wanted Ella. No one could explain why he might be obsessed with her. The theories ranged from the killer being someone from her father’s case files or maybe the killer hated FBI agents in general. They’d never traced him back to her because they’d been so intent on finding the last girl he killed.
Ella didn’t think he wanted her to seek revenge. She just believed he was an evil, sick man who’d almost gotten caught and he’d taken her to possibly have another victim. He’d never explained himself when he’d held her. He’d barely talked to her except to tell her he would kill her if she didn’t do as he asked. But he’d always called her “Sweet Ella.”
Jake, by then a seasoned lawman, had been on the team trying to find her. He’d been the one to find her. That case had brought them back together for the first time since high school, but neither of them had been ready for a true relationship. Or a second chance.
He’d just lost his wife six months earlier and...after he’d rescued Ella, she’d been in no shape to make a commitment to anyone.
You survived, Ella kept telling herself. You made it out alive.
But things had been different in her case. The killer knew she was FBI, knew she wanted to find him and bring him to justice. He’d lured her out with a special set of dead drops put up just for Ella. As if he’d been waiting for her to come.
She’d
