Lonnie and Mike insisted that two officers be assigned to each of the fourteen women gleaned from the first two lists. The two FBI agents, along with Lonnie and Mike, would rove to be available for extra coverage should something go down. Since there were not enough task force members to cover the surveillance, additional off-duty officers were asked to participate. All agreed without hesitation, willingly canceling social and family engagements. Jen knew Trish’s death motivated them all.
The officers all arrived at the building by 4:30. The next hour was spent going over Jen’s theory and the details of the surveillance. Everyone agreed it would be in their best interests to be in position early. It was Saturday, and the women were now single. Odds were that some of them would be going out, and the officers could follow.
Jen was relieved to find herself teamed with Hank Jackson. Since Will and Don would be roving, she had been afraid that she and Al would revert to their old partnership. After their conversation at lunch earlier in the week, she had no desire to tempt fate by being paired with him.
“Isn’t it a little too soon to expect him to try again?” Jamie asked after the assignments had been given out. “It’s only been a couple of days since Trish.”
Her voice shook as she said her friend’s name. Several of the officers coughed and shuffled their feet, suddenly uncomfortable with the memory of how close to them the monster had gotten. The faces of others grew angry and hard.
“It may be,” Lonnie admitted, “but the interval between killings has gotten shorter. There were four weeks between the first two, but only two weeks between the second and third. That dropped to four days between Vicki Kaufmann and Trish. I don’t think we can count on him waiting too long before he kills again.”
“How long can we keep this up?” asked a deputy whose name Jen didn’t know. “We all know the county and city are both operating understaffed, and there’s never enough money budgeted for overtime.”
“We’ll keep it up as long as we have to,” Hardesty answered his officer. “Or until something indicates we’re barking up the wrong tree. Chief Buchan and the sheriff are both prepared to go to their respective councils and ask for more funds if it appears they’re needed.”
Jen caught the cynical looks passed between the assembled officers. Mike’s words sounded good, but they all knew it just didn’t work that way. If they didn’t find the killer fast, the politicians would soon decide that the money was being wasted, and the funds would dry up. But she suspected that as long as her theory still looked good, the city’s officers would volunteer to do the surveillance whether they were paid or not. He’d killed one of their own, and they were determined to do whatever was necessary to get him.
CHAPTER 38
The man who used to be Arthur Kelty had tried to rest all day, but the sense of urgency he felt would not let him find peace. He had lain awake most of the night, thinking and planning how and when he would get Dillon and the man who had trapped his father. His plan was nearly complete. He would be ready to move soon, but he needed to hunt before then.
It was Saturday night. The sluts would be out in force, dressed in their short skirts and tight pants, their breasts either braless and bouncing or exploding out of pushup bras—bait to entrap any man they came near. They were like dogs in heat, the way they left their hot, wet scent smeared all over every person and thing they touched.
He went to the closet and took out the shoebox. He hadn’t intended to act so soon after killing the cop, but he would have to leave town after he’d disposed of the FBI agent and Dillon. He would never be able to do the others on his list, but he could pick one—just one—to pass the time with this weekend.
He looked at the clippings and photos in the unfinished section of the box and tried to decide which of them would be the night’s kill. Tonight any of them would do. He wasn’t particular like he’d been on Thursday. The cop had been an important choice, not just for her own sake but also because of the psychological effect he knew it had had on the FBI agent and his tramp.
Finally, he decided he’d take the next one in order. He pulled a small bundle of papers from the box and looked at the photograph, at the smiling lips and the tight body. He’d snapped the photo with his cell phone as she’d exited a coffee shop. He’d seen the men watching her, enticed by her snug dress that showed off her shapely legs. Come and get me, her dress and manner said, and that was exactly what he was going to do.
He hummed a tune as he dressed. When he was ready to leave, he picked up his cell and dialed her number. She answered on the second ring.
“Hello,” she said, sounding excited. He didn’t answer. She said “hello” a couple of times, then, “Jack?”
He hung up. She was home, but what if she was waiting for someone or going out with someone she might let stay over later? His plans would be ruined. He passed his hand over his eyes, trying to press away the faint throbbing of an impending headache. Who was Jack? What if Jack was there when he arrived?
He sat for a moment on the arm of the couch, trying to calm his nerves. Now that he’d decided to hunt, he knew he had to make a kill or the pressure would grow so great as to threaten his chances for success with the man who had trapped his father. He couldn’t allow that to happen.
Suddenly he knew what to do. It
