in time. At one point, this could have been him. Was him.
“I’ll take the kids,” James said.
“Okay. Call Sheriff Collins. I need a deputy outside Catherine’s room in case this guy tries to finish the job.”
James nodded and headed to the boys to introduce himself.
The doctor stopped outside one of the rooms and faced Sutter. “I know you have questions, and it’s important to solve this case quickly, but she’s weak and frightened. Catherine’s suffered a lot of bad things at this creep’s hands. Keep that in mind.”
Not waiting for an answer, the doctor pushed the door open. A second ticked by before Sutter followed.
A nurse who had been seated beside the patient rose.
“Will you give us a minute, Beverly?” Dr. Rolland asked. The nurse squeezed Catherine’s hand and left without a word.
His first reaction when he stepped into the room was that she appeared so small and fragile against the pillows. Bruises covered much of her face and arms, along with cut marks. Sutter stuffed down his anger at the sight of them. The killer’s weapon of choice for torture had proved to be the knife. For murder, he preferred a gunshot at close range. It probably gave him a thrill to watch his victim’s life slip away before his eyes.
Catherine’s raven hair appeared matted with blood. A white gauze bandage covered part of her head, and the dressing on the gunshot wound in her shoulder peeked out from under her hospital gown. According to Dr. Rolland, she was fortunate to be alive.
Six other women had died in unspeakable ways at the hands of this monster. When he grew tired of them, he shot them, then disposed of the bodies somewhere he knew they’d be found quickly. He left his calling cards on each victim’s body: the white silk scarf and the note. Glued on red paper, the letters were cut out from what they believed to be a magazine. The abuse, along with the cause of death, showed the killer’s rage with someone. The only question was who?
With very few leads, the pressure to find the killer before he struck again increased each day.
“Catherine, this is Special Agent Sutter Brenneman. He’s with the FBI. If you’re feeling up to it, he’d like to ask you some questions.” Dr. Rolland turned to Sutter. “She’s been through a lot and needs to rest. Don’t tire her out too much. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll bring you the evidence.” With a smile for his patient, the doctor left Sutter to his questions.
Catherine stared up at him with huge, frightened eyes so piercingly blue he found it hard to look away. Pale as the sheet she clutched, her face reflected the extent of what she’d suffered. Anger mingled with protective instincts rose inside Sutter. An instant connection he couldn’t begin to explain tugged him toward her like a magnetic force.
Pulling his gaze away, he dragged over a chair. The noise immediately put Catherine on edge and she shrank back.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologized, regretting his actions. She didn’t trust him. Probably didn’t trust anyone. As much as Sutter needed to take her statement down, he’d seen her fear and hated the questions he must ask.
“How are you feeling?” he began, hoping to put her at ease.
She lifted one shoulder. “I am alive, Agent Brenneman, so I’m feeling blessed.”
He smiled at her ability to hold on to that outlook. She’d almost died at the hands of a monster, and yet she still possessed the power to see the good.
“Please, call me Sutter,” he said.
Her forehead wrinkled, almost as if she were trying to pull out something from her memory and couldn’t. She dropped her attention to her hands. He regretted that his presence made her nervous.
Sutter opened his notepad. “I know this is hard for you, Catherine. We’ll take it slow. If you need a break, let me know. I want you to answer each question the best you can. Okay?” he asked gently.
Again she nodded, but her body grew tense.
“First, Dr. Rolland tells me you weren’t able to remember your last name?”
Once more, her frightened eyes locked onto his. A breath burst from her body while dozens of questions flew through his head.
“That’s right,” she said in a whisper.
Dread crawled into the pit of Sutter’s stomach.
“Can you tell me where you live?”
A deep frown marred the skin between her brows as she shook her head. Sutter did his best not to show the alarm growing inside him.
“The doctor mentioned he believed you’re suffering from temporary amnesia.” He pointed to the bandage. “I’m sure in time your memories will return. In the meantime, we’ll take a photo of you and see if we can identify you from it.”
She seemed to grow more uncomfortable at the prospect of having her photo taken. Did she have a record? While his cop instinct didn’t believe it, they’d have to check it out. All the other victims had lived in Eagle’s Nest. Some went to school. Others worked. None had a criminal record.
Catherine pleated the sheet nervously while Sutter’s sinking feeling grew. She was all they had to find a serial killer. Would her memories return in time to save another victim?
“I know this is hard, but I need you to try to remember the man who took you. What did he look like? Where did he keep you hostage?”
Her lips trembled as she explained about the frightening basement and the monster who hid behind a mask she’d caught only a glimpse of after removing her blindfold. The killer had made sure she couldn’t identify him.
“He enjoyed my pain. When I screamed or showed fear, he laughed.”
Sutter stuffed down his rage at anyone treating her so cruelly. He had to stay focused. Couldn’t let emotions take control. They needed to catch this villain before he harmed anyone else.
“What can you tell me about his build? Was he tall? Short?” He kept his attention on her expressive face and wondered if she had any idea how strong she truly was to have escaped the Dead of Night Killer.
“Tall. At least that was my impression. He was taller than me and I am pretty tall. But he wasn’t heavy or thin.” She shrugged. “I’d say somewhere in between.”
Sutter leaned forward and smiled. “You’re doing great. Do you need a break?” he asked. He didn’t want to push her too hard.
She shook her head. “I just want to get through this.”
He understood the wish. After interviewing many victims throughout his career, he knew reliving the pain they’d suffered was never an easy thing.
“Alright. You said his face was hidden, but his eyes were dark. Do you remember anything else about him?”
Catherine fisted her hands at her sides and pulled in a breath. Her terror appeared etched on her face, all but guaranteeing she would never be the same again, and his heart broke for her. Like the other victims,
