She got two cold beers from the refrigerator, and she and Will settled down on the couch, the stereo turned low to a blues station. She squirmed in under Will’s arm, laying her head on his shoulder.
“Tired?” He kissed her on the forehead.
“A little,” she said. “Bummed out, more than anything.”
“I know the feeling.”
“Do you think anything will happen tonight?”
“After last night, I wouldn’t expect it, but who knows? Something’s driving him to kill and kill more often.”
“Maybe he just likes it.” Jen shivered.
They sat for a while in silence, Jen leaning against the hard strength of Will’s shoulder. The music was soothing, and she closed her eyes, listening only to it and blocking out thoughts of the killer. The next thing she knew, Will was shaking her gently.
“Let’s go to bed.”
“Smooth talker,” Jen mumbled and let him lead her to the bed. He lay her down gently and began to undress her, but before he got to the good parts, she was asleep.
***
The man who used to be Arthur Kelty did not feel good. The headache was there, but it was slight and bearable. It was something else, a vague feeling of anxiety, a feeling of something not yet finished.
He watched the news at six but didn’t feel the usual thrill when he saw his exploits on the screen. Even the excitement of the kill itself had been short-lived. He suspected that just any kill could no longer satisfy now that he had found Will Anderson.
He dozed during the evening but woke in time to watch the news at eleven. Still feeling little satisfaction as the newscaster recapped the story, his finger was poised on the remote’s OFF button when suddenly he saw his nemesis on the screen. The TV camera was aimed at the front of a funeral home, and the reporter delivered the news that this was the site of the memorial service for the slain police officer.
The agent was entering the front door of the funeral parlor, one hand on Jen Dillon’s back as he ushered her in ahead of him, the other on the shoulder of a young boy. Just before he stepped through the door, the child turned and glanced back at the camera. He stared at the child’s innocent face and almost felt more hatred for the mother than he did for Anderson. Almost, but not quite.
They would be his next kills. He knew that nothing less would still the discontent that ate at him. He would do them, and in so doing, he would free that young boy.
He felt something on his cheek. Reaching up, he found to his surprise that it was a tear. He wiped it away angrily and switched the set off.
CHAPTER 47
The following week fulfilled their worst expectations. Nothing happened. The week after was the same. Although they didn’t voice their fears, Jen knew the rest of the task force was thinking what she was thinking, that Arthur Kelty—if that’s who the killer was—had followed in his father’s footsteps and gone to find other hunting grounds.
The department received generous assistance from the surrounding towns in terms of loaner officers to assist in surveillance. The reserve units had proven their worth as well with many reserve officers using vacation time from their regular jobs in order to help out. Regular duty officers often looked down on the volunteer cops, labeling them hotshots who liked to play cops and robbers, but this was one time everyone was glad to have them.
At the end of the first week following Trish’s memorial service, Will had moved out of the motel and in with Jen and Brandon. Jen could imagine her mother telling her in a shocked voice that she was setting a bad example for her son by living with a man in an unmarried state, but she refused to be a hypocrite. Besides, Brandon obviously felt that both he and his mother were far safer with Will on the premises. Jen refused to deny him that peace of mind, just as she refused to deny them both the pleasure of Will’s company.
Their lovemaking grew more fulfilling with each passing day, but there were times they avoided it altogether and simply lay in each other’s arms, talking until they fell asleep. She loved the closeness, and she loved the way Brandon sparkled when Will was around.
What would happen when the Special Agent in Charge of Will’s Chicago office decided he’d spent enough time on a case that didn’t seem to be going anywhere…well, that was something Jen tried not to think about.
The weekend after Will moved in, the three of them drove to a small town thirty miles from Indianapolis. There she and Brandon were introduced to Will’s ex-wife, Gloria, and her husband, along with Will’s three children. Gloria seemed genuine in her welcome, and Jen warmed to the woman immediately.
The children, Lisa, Michael, and Christina, were adorable. It was obvious Brandon liked them, too, especially Lisa who was a cute twelve-year-old with curly black hair. Jen and Will took the four children to a nearby state park for the day, and by the time they dropped Will’s kids off that evening, Jen was pretty sure her son was deep in the throes of his first dose of puppy love.
The following Monday, Jen was relieved and happy to learn that Mary Tyler, the young girl involved in the hit-skip, would fully recover from her injuries, although she’d have a long road to get there. No lawsuit had been filed yet in connection with the accident. The law department’s attorneys had taken statements from Jen and Carter Holiday, her mailman witness, and they expressed their confidence to her that they would be able to win any suit that might be brought.
Internal affairs had also started their investigation, and they had indicated to her that there seemed to be no cause for concern regarding disciplinary action. Still, having
