He doubled his fist and struck the steering wheel hard. He’d show them. They might trap him in one place, but he would show up in another. A fragment of a childhood rhyme ran through his head: “I’m the gingerbread man, catch me if you can.” That would be his message to them. Catch me if you can.
He drove past the duplex and parked three blocks down. The lights were out on her side. The other apartment’s windows were void of curtains, indicating it was still vacant. She was one of the recent additions to his list, and he didn’t think they would be expecting him here. Still, he would use more caution than usual. It was risky going after her. He hadn’t watched her all evening like he had the other one, and she might not be alone.
He pulled her picture from the glove compartment and looked at it in the light from the street lamp. He had snapped the picture of her walking back to her office after a lunch with co-workers. Her heart-shaped lips had been parted in a smile as she flirted shamelessly with the men in the group, making it clear to anyone watching that she’d spread her legs for any who wanted her. His breath quickened in anticipation. Yes, it was a risk going after her, but it was a risk he’d decided to take.
CHAPTER 45
The incessant jangling of the telephone invaded Jen’s sleep by bits. She sat up, groggy. Her clock showed eight-twenty. She felt a moment of panic, thinking she was late for work, then remembered it was Sunday. She and Will had gotten home at four in the morning. They’d been too keyed up to sleep and had made love until daylight. He was snoring lightly beside her, oblivious to the ringing phone.
Whoever was on the other end wasn’t giving up. She swung her feet out of bed and shivered. The temperature seemed to have dropped, and she slipped into her robe. As she reached for the phone, Will stirred behind her.
“Jen?” Lonnie’s voice was hoarse with sleep. “Sorry to wake you, but dispatch just called. He got another one.”
“Oh, God!” Jen closed her eyes and rested her face in her free hand, the robe hanging forgotten from one shoulder.
“She’s on our list,” Lonnie continued. “From the last batch of divorce notices, the ones we weren’t watching.”
She raised her head and opened her eyes. Will was sitting up now, watching her. She nodded at the question in his eyes, and he flopped back on the bed, cursing softly.
“What’s the address?” She jotted it down on the notepad by the phone.
“Her name’s Reyna Lin,” Lonnie continued. “It’s a first for him. She’s Asian—from the Philippines.”
“We’ll meet you at the scene,” she said, knowing Lonnie would understand Will was there. Funny, she thought, a few days ago that would have worried me. Now it seems natural. Or maybe it’s just that considering a woman had lost her life, it just doesn’t matter anymore if people know about my love life.
She hung up and lay back down next to Will. They held one another, deriving comfort from each other’s presence, as Jen filled him in on the details of the call.
“Do you want to shower first or should I?” she said when she finished.
“You go ahead.”
She stood under the shower, letting the sharp spray drive the sleep from her eyes and mind. She tried not to think of what lay ahead, wondering how much the human psyche could stand before it broke. How much misery, depravity, and ugliness could it take?
Maybe Al was right. If she and Al had been together last night, would they have gotten the killer? Was it predestined, as Al seemed to believe? Ridiculous, she thought, but she shivered in spite of the hot spray.
Will was sitting on the bed, staring at the floor when she entered the bedroom. She put her arms around him. He looked beaten.
“We should have gotten him last night,” he said. “He was right there, waiting for us, and we blew it. She paid the price.”
“Will, we didn’t blow it. I don’t know what went wrong, but we did everything we were supposed to do.” She turned his head with her hands and looked into his sad, blue eyes. “Stop blaming yourself. If there’s any blame to be had, then we all share it. But we did do our best.”
“And it wasn’t good enough.” He stood and walked to the door. “I’m going to take a shower.”
She dressed while he showered. When he returned to the bedroom, he looked a little better.
“Do you want some breakfast?” she said.
“I don’t think so. I can always grab something later.” He put his arms around her from behind and hugged her tightly. “Have I told you lately how glad I am I met you?”
“Probably, but it’s nice to hear it again anyway.” She turned and kissed the tip of his nose. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll be all right. You can’t keep a good man down.” He began dressing. “At least we seem to be on the right track about how he picks his victims—thanks to you.”
“Maybe so, but now that he knows we’re on to him, he’s going to be even more unpredictable.”
Reyna Lin had lived alone in a duplex on Collins Avenue. An angry crowd had gathered behind the yellow police tape. The coroner’s wagon and several marked and unmarked units were parked at the curb. As she and Will walked to the front door, she noticed that the windows in the other unit were bare. Vacant, she thought. I’d bet a paycheck on it.
The scene was a replay of the four before it, the only difference being that the bruises weren’t quite as evident on Reyna’s smooth brown skin. A white pillowcase had been tied around the victim’s neck with
