Still Waters Read online

  “Did you find anything else like this?” Jess asked as she spread the photos of the items found on the table.

  “We took his house apart,” Lori answered. “We didn’t find any other evidence anywhere on the property.”

  Jess removed her eyeglasses. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re looking at the work of a fledgling serial killer or killers. The MO is the same, though things were a bit sloppier with Pettie. The killer or killers had cleaned up their act a bit by the time they murdered McCorkle.” She turned to Amber. “If I’m right, you were supposed to be the next victim.”

  Amber eyes widened. The pulse at the base of her throat fluttered. “Oh, my God.”

  “The third box found in his storage unit was empty,” Lori explained. “The items belonging to you would have likely ended up there if Adler hadn’t been murdered.”

  “We’re assuming he was working with a partner,” Harper said. “And that partner killed him and planted the evidence to point to Ms. Roberts. We just don’t know why yet. We also can’t say whether Adler was involved in the murders.”

  “Does that mean my client is no longer a person of interest in the case?” Teller demanded.

  “We have every reason to believe,” Lori explained, “Ms. Roberts had nothing to do with Adler’s murder. But until we know more she’s still a part of this case.”

  “But she has been cleared of suspicion—is that correct?” Teller pressed.

  “She has been cleared of suspicion,” Harper confirmed. “At this point, we believe she may be in danger from whoever Adler was working with.”

  “Crimes Against Persons is officially handing off the case to the Special Problems Unit,” Lori explained. “Captain Aldridge is not happy about it since the search she ordered turned up significant evidence, but the chief called it a couple of hours ago. Chet will be in charge of the case now.”

  “Excuse me.” Amber stood and hurried from the room.

  Sean followed. She went into the restroom, and he waited in the hall. As grateful as he was certain she felt to be cleared of suspicion, the other news had been startling.

  Learning you were the next victim on a serial killer’s hit list wasn’t exactly like being named prom queen.

  At least now he knew what the worse part was.

  * * *

  AMBER LET THE faucet run until the water was as cold as it was going to get, and then she bent forward and splashed it on her face. She gripped the sink to keep herself steady.

  The dead man, Kyle Adler, had come into her home and taken her things. He could have touched any or all of her possessions.

  Fear twisted inside her, churning in her stomach.

  He’d taken her panties into his bed and fantasized about...her.

  He’d wanted to kill her.

  He’d probably killed or been a party to the murders of those other two women.

  Amber drew in a shuddering breath as she stared at her reflection. She had been next.

  Another deep breath and then another. Calm down. She needed to get back in there and hear the rest.

  Reaching for a paper towel, she braced her hip against the sink. She patted her face and dried her hands. She could do this. Adler was dead. He couldn’t hurt her or anyone else now.

  Except he had a partner...who’d in all probability been in her house, too.

  Amber tossed the damp paper towel and opened the door.

  Sean was waiting for her. “You okay?”

  She pushed a smile in place. “I’m many things, but okay is not one of them at the moment.”

  He gestured for her to go ahead of him.

  Amber squared her shoulders and returned to the conference room. She could do this. She was strong, and she had a bodyguard.

  Jess offered a kind smile as Amber took her seat once more. “We were just discussing that you and the other two—” she gestured to the folder on the table in front of Lori Wells “—have nothing beyond being female in common.”

  Amber listened, struggling to keep her face clear of the fear pounding in her veins, as the detectives, Jess and Corlew, discussed the facts. Pettie was much taller than Amber and a little heavier. She had been on staff at one of the city’s prestigious law firms. McCorkle was average height with a tiny waist and extra wide hips. She was an architectural engineer at one of the city’s top firms. They shared no physical traits, as Jess said, except being female.

  “The common characteristic that drew Adler may have simply been physical beauty,” Jess suggested. “Or personality. Possibly body language. Whatever the commonality, he was drawn to each victim.”

  Amber wanted to know more about the partner. “How does a team of serial killers work?”

  “One is usually dominant,” Jess said. “Adler may have been the scout. He observed the target. Perhaps even lured her into a trap. The partner may have been the one to decide when and how she died. He may have been the one to make the kill, or they may have taken that step together.”

  “He left no evidence?” Amber was aware there were criminals capable of operating without leaving behind even trace evidence, but she didn’t want this killer to be one of them.

  “None we’ve found,” Harper confirmed. “We’ll continue interviewing friends, relatives, associates—anyone who knew Adler.”

  Amber appreciated their efforts. She moistened her lips and asked the question ramming into her brain. “What do I do until you find him?”

  “You take extra precautions,” Lori said. “You watch every step you make.”

  “Sean will be assigned as your personal security for as long as necessary,” Jess added.

  The churning started in Amber’s stomach again. She swallowed back the bitter taste of bile. “How long will it take to find him?” She knew they couldn’t answer that question. She, of all people, understood how these things went. She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m sorry. That was a ridiculous question.” They might never find him. She might never know the name of the man watching her...waiting for the perfect moment to act.

  “We’ll do all we can as quickly as we can,” Harper assured her.

  “We’ve already taken initial precautions,” Sean spoke up. “New locks. New security codes.”

  Amber’s attention drifted. How could this man—this killer—have been watching her and she hadn’t realized he was so close?

  Chairs scraped across the floor and fabric rustled. Amber blinked. The meeting was over. She hadn’t even realized the conversation had ended. She stood. The detectives were assuring Teller they would keep in touch with any new developments. Jess was speaking quietly with Sean.

  Amber pushed in her chair and picked up her purse. Corlew joined the huddle with Jess and Sean.

  “Amber, don’t worry.” Teller moved up beside her. “Between Jess and the BPD, we’ll get through this.”

  She tried to summon a smile, but her lips wouldn’t quite make the transition. “Thank you.”

  Teller gave her a reassuring pat on the arm, and then he followed the path the detectives had taken. Amber took a breath and lifted her chin. She should call her sister and her parents and let them know this latest news before they heard it some other way. This was good news on one level, she argued with herself.

  Sean and the others broke their huddle, all eyes turning toward her.

  After more assurances from both Jess and Corlew, it was time to go home.

  Sean surveyed the sidewalk and checked the car before allowing her inside. Numb, she settled in the seat. He shut the door, and she flinched. Deep breath. They will find this guy.

  She should call the station manager and discuss the situation. Was her cameraman in danger working with her? She glanced at the man driving. He was in danger, as well. Her sister. Gina. Maybe it would be best if she took some time off work. Gina
was a reasonable person. Hopefully she could convince Barb to stay away from Amber until this killer was found.

  Amber stared out at the familiar landscape. The plan seemed like a good one. Reasonable.

  So she was going to put her life on hold because some evil, twisted bastard had targeted her?

  No way.

  “I need to go to the station.”

  Sean glanced at her. “Did you get called in for an assignment?”

  “No. The computers at the office are better for what I need to do.”

  He made the necessary turn for the new destination. “Would you like to let me in on what we’re doing?”

  She considered his profile for a moment. Strong jaw and forehead with a nice nose balanced perfectly between gorgeous blue eyes. She wondered how often he’d been asked why he wasn’t on the big screen. He had the looks, the charm. He could have gone for an acting or a modeling gig. Amber dismissed the silly notion. Her mind was working overtime to distract her from the worry.

  Rather than answer his question, she asked one of her own. “What did Jess and Corlew say to you after the meeting?”

  He glanced at her. “Not to let you out of my sight.”

  “Really? I thought that was already the plan. Isn’t that why you’re sleeping on my sofa?”

  “Guess so.” His lips quirked with a need to grin.

  He likely wouldn’t find the situation so amusing if the shoe were on the other foot. Still, she couldn’t deny that seeing his lopsided smiles and grins were almost worth the worry and frustration. Maybe that was an exaggeration. Just another indication that her mind was on overload.

  “So, what’s on tonight’s agenda?” He shot her a look. “I’m not going to let you out of my sight, but you’re still the boss.”

  Amber relaxed the tiniest bit and told him what he wanted to know. “We’re going to find out all we can about those two women Adler and his partner killed. Those women and I shared some common trait or connection that drew Adler and his partner. We have to figure out what it was.”

  “We should get food,” he suggested. “I work better on a full tank.”

  She hadn’t even thought of food. She wasn’t sure her stomach could handle food. Two women were dead, but Amber had survived whatever the bastards had planned for her. The least she could do was help find the other person responsible for their deaths.

  Going into hiding wouldn’t be fair. Rhiana Pettie and Kimberly McCorkle and their families deserved justice.

  Amber had an obligation to help them find it.

  Chapter Eight

  Thornberry Drive, 9:05 p.m.

  “You’re sure you want to show up at someone’s door at this hour and announce you might know who killed their daughter?”

  The idea sounded much better when she said it. “I have to do something.”

  Was she being selfish? The McCorkles had waited four months to hear who had taken the life of their daughter; the Petties even longer. Still, Sean had a point. She couldn’t just show up at their door and announce that she knew the murderer. Not to mention the detectives on the case would not be happy with her, and the last thing she needed to do was to annoy or enrage the BPD. Odds were, the lead detective in the case, Chet Harper, had already spoken to the families.

  Still, Amber had to do this.

  “I’ll be subtler than that,” she assured him.

  Sean grunted in that way only males could, the sound a warning that he had his doubts. Fine. She didn’t need his approval.

  She hadn’t been able to reach anyone at the Pettie home. Mrs. McCorkle had insisted she was happy to meet tonight. If Amber had a daughter who had been murdered, she wouldn’t care what time of the day or night news came; she would want to hear it as soon as possible.

  Sean parked at the street in front of the ranch-style home. “Just remember, Harper’s going above and beyond to solve this case. Don’t do anything to make them regret the extra effort to keep you in the loop.”

  “Is that what your boss warned you about after the briefing?”

  He shifted his attention straight ahead, and Amber knew she’d hit the nail on the head.

  “Something like that,” he admitted.

  “I would never do anything to jeopardize my relationship with the BPD or with Jess Burnett.” As a journalist, she understood the value of the relationships she’d built. As her mentor, Gina had kept that golden rule in front of Amber. She was no rank amateur.

  Sean flashed her one of those killer smiles as he opened his door. “Well, all righty then.”

  As usual he was at her door before she was out of the car. He surveyed the street and the homes on either side of the McCorkle home before ushering her up the sidewalk to the porch. Amber rang the bell and found herself holding her breath.

  The door opened, and an older woman, fifty or so perhaps, with dark hair looked from Amber to Sean and back.

  “Mrs. McCorkle?” Amber asked.

  “You’re Amber Roberts,” the woman said. “I recognize you from TV.”

  “This is my friend Sean Douglas.” Amber indicated the man beside her.

  Mrs. McCorkle gave a nod. “Come in.”

  When the door opened wider, Amber stepped inside. Sean stayed close behind her. Maybe a little too close. The heat from his body made her tremble. You really have lost it, Amber.

  “You’re certain we’re not disturbing you, Mrs. McCorkle?” The guilt was making an appearance. Damn Sean for making her second-guess this move. If she weren’t so vulnerable right now, he would never have been able to accomplish that feat. Investigative reporters ferreted out information on cases all the time. It was part of the job. More often than not the police weren’t particularly pleased, but it generally worked out to everyone’s benefit.

  The lady shook her head adamantly. “I want to do all I can to help find the monster who took my baby.”

  Amber understood. She glanced around the neat living room. Framed photos of Kimberly were everywhere. “Is Mr. McCorkle home?”

  The older woman looked away. “He’s gone to bed.” She wrung her hands. “It’s hard on him. Truth is, he drinks enough beer every night after work to render him unconscious by the time he goes to bed.”

  “We all have our own way of dealing with loss,” Sean spoke up. “As long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else.”

  Amber wondered what he had done to deal with the loss of his lover when Lacy James died. Had he struggled to sleep at night? Tried to drown his sorrows? Why was it she suddenly wanted to know all there was to know about him? Yes, he was the man tasked with her safety, but she suspected there was more to it than that.

  Mrs. McCorkle nodded her agreement with Sean’s understanding words. “I tell myself that every night.” She sighed. “Sometimes I feel like we’re muddling through some alternate reality. How can this be our lives?” She waved off the words. “Please, make yourselves at home. Would you like coffee or hot tea?”

  “No, thank you,” Amber said as she perched on the edge of the sofa. “Was Kimberly a hot tea drinker?”

  The lady shook her head. “That would be me. Kim loved her coffee in the morning, iced tea for lunch and dinner was a cold beer. She allowed herself one or two each night, the same as her father. He always warned that overindulgence was a bad thing. But that was before...”

  “I love the flavored teas,” Amber said, keeping her tone light. “Paradise Peach.”

  “I guess I’m a purist. Earl Grey for me.”

  “Green tea chai for me,” Sean tossed in. “Only I cheat—I buy the instant stuff.”

  The man drank hot tea? When he shot her another of those amused looks, Amber closed her gaping mouth. She would need to be careful around him. He kept her off balance, and he knew it.

  Time to get to the point of this m
eeting. “Mrs. McCorkle, I believe the man or men who hurt your daughter may have been targeting me, as well.”

  The woman’s eyes widened. “Has someone else gone missing?” Her hand went to her chest. “Mercy, I’ve prayed nonstop that he would be caught. I don’t understand why the police can’t find whoever did this. They were here this evening asking more questions, but they weren’t giving me any answers.”

  “I’m certain they’re doing all they can,” Amber assured her. “I’m wondering if your daughter and I had any hobbies, shopping habits or interests in common. May we talk for a few minutes about the things she liked to do?”

  Mrs. McCorkle’s eyes brightened, but the perpetual sadness created by the loss of her daughter lined her face. “She always loved building things as a child. It was no surprise when she decided to become an architect. She took great pride in her work.”

  “What about her hobbies?” Amber reached into her purse for a notepad.

  “She loved playing basketball,” Mrs. McCorkle said, her eyes growing distant. “She played in high school, you know. No matter that she was a foot or more shorter than the rest of the team—she was a force to be reckoned with when she got her hands on the ball.”

  “Was she dating anyone in particular?” Amber asked.

  Mrs. McCorkle shook her head. “She had a lot of friends and dates, but she didn’t date anyone regularly. Kimberly said she was in no hurry to get serious. She was busy building her career.”

  Amber’s instincts started to hum. “I can relate.”

  “Kimberly had big plans. She wanted to have her own firm one day. She was going to take care of me and her dad. She promised we’d never have to worry about anything.” Mrs. McCorkle’s lips trembled. “She sure saw to that. She carried a million-dollar life insurance policy. We had no idea until we saw the paperwork among her personal papers.”

  “Do you mind sharing the name of her insurance company?” Amber, too, carried a significant policy.The day before she’d started her job her father had insisted on a “business” talk. He’d urged her to be smart with her money from the beginning. Setting up a savings plan was at the top of his list. Insurance and investments were next. Six years later Amber was grateful for that talk.