Mercer nodded. “And that’s where Noelle comes in.” He advanced toward her. “You’re the one who can figure this one out. You’re the one who can put the pieces of this puzzle together and help us determine just who this sick bozo is before he has the chance to hurt anyone else.”
* * *
HE WAS STILL bleeding and he was getting weaker by the moment. The bullet was lodged in him. He had to get it out, but every time he tried to get a hold on the thing, he just made the wound bigger. Deeper.
The snowplows were out, clearing the little town of Camden. He was in the shadows because that was his custom. He’d spent most of his life hiding, one way or another.
When you had a monster inside, you had to be careful. If the world saw you for what you really were, they’d destroy you.
His father had told him that. His father had seen him for exactly what he was. His old man had hoped the military would change him. Focus him. And, in a way, it had.
Because in the navy, he’d met Lawrence Duncan.
He watched as a bundled woman made her way to the small pharmacy in town. Figured that place would open first.
He would’ve preferred to find a veterinarian or some kind of doc, but the pharmacy tech would have to do. There wasn’t anyone else who could help him, not now.
He made his way across the street. Saw the blood that dripped from him and splattered down in the snow. He should clean up his trail. But...
Too weak.
He pushed open the pharmacy door. The lights weren’t on. Power wasn’t back on in the town. He’d tried to use a phone before, but he hadn’t been able to connect. The storm had knocked all communication down.
“We’re not quite open yet!” A cheery voice called out. “Give me just a few minutes, and I’ll help you.”
He pulled his knife from its sheath. He walked down the narrow aisle. Saw the woman as she shrugged out of her coat. She was built like Noelle, long, slender, almost delicate lines. But her hair was a dark black, not a red.
“Be with you soon!” She said, not glancing back.
Her mistake.
He grabbed her and put the knife to her throat as he jerked her back against his chest. “You’ll be with me right now.” He had a ski mask over his face, so he twisted her around toward him, all the while keeping that knife right at her throat.
“Please...” she whispered.
He shook his head. “I’m not planning to kill you.” Not yet, anyway. “Because you’re going to help me, aren’t you?”
The knife cut into her neck.
And she nodded.
* * *
“JENNY...” NOELLE KEPT her voice low and gentle. She didn’t want to upset Jenny. The girl had already been through enough.
She was at Jenny’s house. Jenny’s mother was behind the girl, pacing nervously, and the sheriff watched from a position near the door.
“We need to take her over to Harrison County Medical,” the sheriff said, voice tight. “Get her thoroughly checked out and—”
“No!” Jenny’s desperate cry seemed to echo in Noelle’s ears. Jenny glanced over her shoulder. “Mom, you promised I wouldn’t have to go anywhere! I don’t want— I need to stay here!”
Jenny’s mother caught her daughter’s hand and held tight. “You’re not going anywhere.”
The sheriff growled.
Noelle squared her shoulders. “I know the officers collected your clothing last night.”
“Evidence,” Jenny whispered as her gaze dropped down to her lap. “They said it was evidence. They—they sent me back home in borrowed clothes this morning.”
Noelle glanced toward Jenny’s mother.
“The storm trapped us at the sheriff’s station. That’s as far as the ambulance could get in that weather.” Her gaze cut to Hodges. “But my girl is fine now. She doesn’t need a hospital.” Her breath heaved out as she pointed at the sheriff. “And he asked us questions all night, so I don’t see why we have to answer any more now!”
“I promise, this won’t take long.” Noelle saw Jenny flinch. She wanted to reach out and touch the girl, offer comfort, but Jenny seemed frozen before her. “I need you to describe the man who took you.”
“I did already!” Jenny’s voice broke a bit. “I told the sheriff...he was tall, wide shoulders. He had dark hair and stubble on his face.”
“Caucasian, African-American—”
“Caucasian,” Jenny whispered.
“Were there any marks on his face? Any scars or tattoos that you noticed?”
Jenny shook her head.
“What about his eyes? What color were they?”
“Brown. I think they were brown.”
“Good, Jenny. You’re doing really, really well.” Noelle knew interrogations with victims had to be handled carefully. If you pushed too hard, victims could break. If you didn’t push hard enough, they might not be able to tell important details. “When he spoke to you, did the man have any accent?”
Another shake of Jenny’s head was her answer.
Okay. Time to try a different tactic because, unfortunately, the man Jenny had just described could be anyone. “When we found you in the cabin, you were screaming.”
A tear leaked down Jenny’s cheek. “He told me that I had to scream.”
“Because he wanted—”
“He wanted you to die.” Jenny glanced up at her. “You’re Noelle, and he said you had to die.”
Chill bumps rose on Noelle’s skin. “He mentioned me by name?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“I wasn’t...good enough. But you—you would be more fun. So I had to scream so he could see you. He said...he said he just wanted to see you.”
No, he’d wanted to kill her. He’d wanted to kill them all.
“He told me that he liked to see his girls.”
The photos. “Did he take any pictures of you while you were in that cabin?”
“Yes.” Shame burned in that word. “I was crying and begging him, and he was taking my picture. He was...filming me with his phone.”
Because the sicko didn’t use a Polaroid any longer, but he still needed the memories of his victims.
“This is very important.” Noelle leaned toward Jenny. “Did you ever hear him talking with anyone else? Did you see anyone else with him?”
Jenny bit her lower lip. “I don’t...I don’t think so.”