"How?" Madison asked.
"This victim fit the same profile the earlier ones did. She was strangled and positioned just like the others. It's obviously the same killer."
Her knees suddenly weak, Madison felt behind her for the couch and sank down onto it. She didn't know what to think or how to feel. Relieved? Fearful? Doubtful? Hopeful? Somehow she seemed to be experiencing them all at once. "How do you know it's not a copycat?" she breathed.
"Because Ellis didn't kill those women, so there's nothing to copy. And now that it's happened again and he's gone, the police will have to turn their attention to finding the real killer, and the truth will finally come out."
"This doesn't make sense," Madison muttered to herself.
"What did you say?"
She swallowed hard. "Nothing. I--Where did they find her?"
"A few miles from the house."
"Who was she?"
"A twenty-six-year-old single woman who lived near the university and worked at Nordstrom. I think her name was Susan."
Susan. Madison closed her eyes. What if there was something in that box she'd found under the house that could've saved that woman? What if there was something that might help the police now? She had to take it to them, let them sort it out....
"Mom?"
"What, dear?"
"If...if I happened to stumble on something that would...that could possibly figure in the case, you'd want me to come forward with it, wouldn't you? Even if it made Dad look as though he might really have--"
"Madison!" her mother interrupted, her voice instantly sharp.
"What?"
"I don't think you understand what that investigation did to me, what it did to your father."
"I do, Mom. That's why I haven't said anything so far."
"Ellis was innocent! I'll go to my grave believing that."
"I loved him, too. I still love him. But--"
"Do you know why your father killed himself?" her mother asked, now openly weeping.
Madison thought she could come up with a few plausible reasons. She certainly knew what his critics would say. But she didn't bother answering. Her mother's question was rhetorical. "Why?"
"To put an end to what you and I were suffering. He hated that he couldn't save us from the harassment we were receiving from the police, the community, even our neighbors. So he ended it." She sniffed and gulped for the breath to continue. "He gave up his life so we could live normally again."
"He's gone now, Mom," Madison said softly. "We don't have to protect him anymore."
"I don't care. I won't betray him. And no daughter of mine would betray him, either."
Tension clawed at Madison's stomach. Her father was gone, couldn't have killed this latest victim. But because of that box there had to be a connection, didn't there? "You're not listening. I've found some articles that--"
"You could have a videotape and I wouldn't believe it," Annette cut in, her voice vehement.
Madison covered her eyes. "Faith is one thing, Mom. Sticking your head in the sand is another."
"All I know is what my heart tells me is true," her mother said.
Those words sounded like an echo of Madison's conversation earlier with Caleb. But it wasn't surprising, considering she and her mother had relied on that argument for years. "Can you always trust your heart?" she asked, repeating his question.
"If you can't trust your heart, what can you trust?" her mother said, and hung up.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MADISON SHIVERED as she stood outside a few minutes later, waiting for Caleb to rouse himself from sleep and answer her knock. She tried to tell herself to go back home and go to bed. But she was too upset. Her mother would never forgive her if she turned that box over to the police.
But Madison wasn't sure she'd be able to forgive herself if she didn't.
It all came down to what she really believed, and she no longer knew what that was. Her father wasn't the type to hurt anyone. But if he hadn't murdered Lisa McDonna, why was her locket in the crawl space of his house?
Caleb opened the door wearing a pair of hastily donned jeans, judging by the top button, which was undone, and nothing else. His hair mussed from sleep, he flipped on the porch light and squinted against the sudden brightness. "Madison? Is something wrong?"
Suddenly, she felt awkward. When she was at home, it had seemed natural to come to him. She was so tired of being alone.
"I..." She fell silent because what she was feeling couldn't be distilled into a few simple words.
"Did something happen?" he asked.
She held out her hand to reveal the coin he'd given her. That was really all she'd come for, wasn't it? To collect on his promise that she could call him if she ever needed reassurance?
Taking her by the elbow, he guided her inside, closing the door behind them. They stood in the dim light of the living room, the shutters casting shadowed lines across Caleb's face. "Tell me what's wrong," he said.
"They found another p-poor woman." She shivered again, even though it was warm in the cottage.
Pulling her close, he put his arms around her. "You just heard?"
He seemed so solid and real, so in control at a time when she felt as if she was spinning out into space.
She closed her eyes and nodded, concentrating only on the heat flowing through her cheek, which she'd pressed to his bare chest. This was what she needed. This was all she needed. A few minutes of contact with another human being...
"Just tell me everything's going to be okay," she whispered.
He brushed back her hair and placed a featherlight kiss on her temple. "It might get worse before it gets better, Madison, but..." He hesitated, and she leaned back far enough to look up at him. "I'll be here if you need me," he finished, and she smiled because it sounded so much like a promise.
THE SLIGHTLY FLORAL SCENT of Madison's perfume and the softness of her body beneath the baggy sweats she was wearing kick-started Caleb's libido. He knew he'd be much better off sending her back to her own house--right away--but he couldn't seem to let go of her. She'd come to him for comfort, and he wanted to give her that much. Obviously she wasn't as insensitive about the suffering of others as he'd once believed.
Or maybe he couldn't let go of her because he needed a little comfort himself. The past four days hadn't been easy. He'd had a difficult time grasping the fact that such evil had touched his own life in a very personal way. Holly had been almost childlike in the way she'd clung to him, irritating yet sympathetic in her neediness. Her parents treated him as though he and Holly had never divorced, and had been leaning on him to deal with the police and also with the funeral home regarding Susan's burial. Beyond that, every extra minute had been spent helping Detective Gibbons. Caleb had been tracking down Johnny's friends, from previous schoolmates to cellmates, and some friends and neighbors of Tye's, too. He'd told them he was a private investigator working on a murder case and showed them pictures of Susan. And he'd haunted the pizza parlor and surrounding neighborhood, looking for the driver of that blue Ford in the picture--all to no avail.