Weston marched down the hospital halls, following the signs to the nursery. It was after midnight and visiting hours were long over, but an exception had been made since he was law enforcement. He stopped in front of the bank of windows separating him from the babies. A few of the beds were empty. Others held tiny bundles tightly wrapped in striped blankets.
A flash of color out of the corner of his eye caught Weston’s attention. He turned. Luke Tatum was strolling toward him. From the looks of things, it’d been a long night. Luke’s clothes were wrinkled and his hair was sticking up at all angles. Weston could relate. His own clothes were grass stained and he was bone-tired.
“Hey, Luke.” Weston shook his friend’s hand and clapped him on the back. “Congrats again on the baby. Which one is Ava?”
Luke pointed to a tiny bundle on the far right. A blue light was shining down on the baby. “Ava’s right there. She’s got jaundice, which is why she’s under the special lamp. Nothing to be concerned about. She just needs a little extra care. Appreciate you coming down to the hospital to keep me in the loop on Avery’s case.”
“No problem. Grady and I have to meet anyway. At least this way, we get a sneak peek at the baby.” Awful things had happened tonight, and a heavy weight rested on his shoulders, but Weston had learned long ago to embrace the moment. “Ava’s beautiful, Luke. I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks.” He grinned but it faded. “We should discuss the case. Where’s Avery?”
“She’s with her grandmother, Marla, and her sister. After the night they’ve had, Avery didn’t want to leave them alone. A trooper is stationed outside their house and I’m staying in the guestroom from now on.” Weston glanced down the hall. It was still empty, but he didn’t want to have this conversation in the open. “Is there a place we can talk in private? Preferably someplace with coffee?”
They confiscated a break room after making arrangements with the nursing staff.
Couches ran along one wall. Weston sank into one and the springs creaked in protest. Luke poured them coffee. “Okay, start talking.”
Weston filled Luke in on the evening’s events, although keeping his tone professional took real work. He was both heartbroken and angry that Marianne Jenkins had died before they could save her.
His fellow ranger leaned back in his chair. “Is there any connection between Victor and Avery’s father?”
“Not that we’ve found so far.”
Luke’s phone beeped. He unhooked it from his waist and checked the message. “That’s Grady. He’s waiting at the nursery. Let me show him the baby and then I’ll bring him in.”
“Sure thing.”
The door clicked behind him. Weston leaned his head against the couch. A thousand questions rolled through his mind. Why was the Chessmaster targeting Avery? How was he choosing his victims? The killer was on a mission and had a plan only he understood. To stop him, they had to act fast.
Lord, please guide me. Give me the strength and the wisdom to figure this out before another innocent woman is killed.
Voices filtered in through the closed door. Weston quickly added an Amen to his prayer seconds before his fellow rangers appeared.
Grady entered first. He carried a well-worn cowboy hat and his boots tapped against the tile floor. Weston rose to greet him. Luke bought some crackers from the vending machine and everyone got more coffee.
“I’ve brought Luke up to speed,” Weston said, jumping right back into business. He turned to Grady. “What did you find at Marianne Jenkins’s house?”
He pulled out a notepad from his shirt and flipped it open. “The back door had been pried open and there were signs of a struggle in the bedroom. It appears the killer attacked her while she was sleeping. An initial search hasn’t yielded any prints, other than the victim’s. Chances are, the killer wore gloves. A neighbor reported seeing Marianne on Saturday afternoon, watering her plants, but she failed to show up to Sunday brunch with her friends.”
“So the killer probably broke into her house sometime on Saturday evening,” Weston said. “Was she killed there?”
Grady shook his head. “There’s no sign Marianne was murdered in her home.”
That matched with what they knew about Debra’s murder. She hadn’t been killed in her house either. Weston blew out a breath. “Did she have a home security system? Cameras?”
“Unfortunately not.” Grady’s mouth flattened into a thin line. “And no one reported seeing a strange vehicle parked in Marianne’s driveway or in the neighborhood any time before or after the abduction.”
“How does that compare to Debra Channing’s murder?” Luke asked.
“It doesn’t.” Weston took another sip of coffee. “There were no signs of a break-in at Debra’s house, nor were there any signs of a struggle. Her car was in the garage, purse and cell phone on the counter. It seemed she’d let the killer in, which brings us to Victor Haas. Her ex-boyfriend had a key to her place. Victor is still missing and no one has spotted his vehicle either.”
Grady snagged one of Luke’s crackers. “I’ve reviewed Victor’s criminal record, and while it’s substantial, nothing about it is particularly intelligent. He’s the type to kill his girlfriend in a jealous rage, not plot out a complicated murder.”
Weston nodded. “That’s been bugging me too. I could see him committing the thefts on campus, but both murders were calculated.”
“They’re also personal,” Luke said. “The notes to Avery alone are worrisome, but nothing gets more personal than depositing a body on a cop’s doorstep.”
Weston’s stomach clenched as the image of Marianne Jenkins rose up in his mind. He didn’t want to imagine the fear and panic the woman had felt, but it was impossible to avoid. Worse yet was knowing the killer would strike again. And that Avery was in his sights.
Grady blew out a breath. “I reached out to Avery’s ex-fiancé, Jeffrey Strikes, to do a follow-up
