Four (Count to Ten Book 4) Read online

  “Is she still seeing someone?”

  Rose shook her head. “She quit a while back. She says she doesn’t need a shrink, she just needs to go back to work.”

  “Ryan will be keeping an eye on her when she comes back,” he assured Rose. His brother was close with his partner, and Ryan felt guilty about Paige getting attacked in the first place. Paige would be lucky if Ryan let her out of his sight when she returned.

  “Yeah, I know. Doesn’t stop me worrying about her, though. Maybe she’s right, maybe coming back to work will be good for her.” Rose said the words, but her face remained doubtful. “Anyway, Paige is right, the location seems to be more important than the victims. He’s just working his way up floor by floor. We need to check the database—see if anything similar ever happened there. For all we know, this guy’s wife was murdered there and he’s angry the police never found the killer, so he’s making a statement.”

  Jack checked his watch. “We have an interview at eleven; that should be enough time to start looking into the building’s past.”

  “Yeah,” Rose agreed distractedly, obviously still thinking about Paige.

  As they got to work, Jack eased his guilty conscience for not letting his family and friends know what was going on with him. They’d just be worried about him like they were worried about Paige. And his friends and family had enough to worry about. Between Paige, and Ryan’s fiancée Sofia, who was still recovering from the second violent assault she had suffered in less than a year, and his younger brother Mark’s seven-year-old son was due for his yearly checkup to make sure his leukemia had not returned, his family had enough going on without him adding to it.

  * * * * *

  8:47 A.M.

  He wondered if they were on to him yet.

  Not on to him as in hunting him, but on to him as in finally figuring out that his victims were immaterial.

  He hadn’t chosen them for any other reason than they lived in her building.

  She lived in apartment 9J.

  Hence the reason he had chosen to work the J apartments.

  How long would it take the police to figure it out?

  They hadn’t yet. He’d already done floors 1, 2, and 3. Surely, they weren’t that stupid. Surely they had to eventually figure out that he wasn't personally invested in his victims. That the only thing they had in common was the building they lived in. That his real target was another resident.

  It had been fun last night.

  A trip down memory lane.

  And good preparation for what was to come.

  Someone had messed things up last time.

  Intervened before he was finished.

  But that wouldn’t happen this time.

  This time, he was going to finish what he’d started.

  He hadn’t planned on waiting this long. Only at first, she was never alone. Someone had stayed by her side. Then the trial was on and it had seemed too risky to try to grab her again. He had intended to wait until the verdict was read and then grab her. Only, she had disappeared.

  And it had taken him ten long years to track her down.

  This time, she wasn't going to get away.

  He had it all planned.

  Exactly what he was going to do to her. Exactly what he was going to say to her. Exactly what she would say to him. Exactly how he was going to end it all.

  He would have grabbed her immediately, only he knew he wasn't getting into her apartment. She never left it and he imagined she had a lot of locks on the door. Trying to keep out the bad memories as well as all the bad people, he suspected.

  The only way he was getting to her was to scare her out of her apartment.

  If he kept pushing, kept making this place as bad as the nightmares that he was sure still haunted her sleep, then eventually she would go running. And when she did, she’d go running straight into his waiting arms.

  All he had to do was remain patient.

  Besides, he’d already waited ten years; what was a few more days?

  Any day now and she would be his all over again.

  This time he would make sure that everything went smoothly.

  This time she wasn't walking away alive.

  He was going to play with her until he got bored and then he was going to kill her.

  And then he would finally be able to move on with his life.

  Right now, though, it was time to get ready for tonight.

  He still had a few more preparations to make.

  The residents of apartment 4J had no idea what was coming.

  * * * * *

  11:30 P.M.

  “Sometimes I really hate this job,” Jack murmured, more to himself than his partner.

  “Yeah, I know.” Rose shot him a sympathetic smile.

  “It’s just, I don’t understand why people do these things to each other.” Some days he just wanted to walk away from all of this and pretend that the world wasn't a completely depressing place.

  “You want me to do this one?” Rose asked as they paused at the door.

  He sighed deeply. “No, I can do it.” He knocked on the door then opened it, since they were expected. A man in his early fifties met them in the hall. “Jerry Cutler?”

  The man’s face was drawn, his brown eyes filled with a mixture of horror and anger. Jerry Cutler had returned from a business trip to find his girlfriend, Jessica Elgar, covered in blood and tied to her kitchen table. “Yes. You're the detectives who I spoke with on the phone?”

  “Detective Xander and Detective Lace,” Jack introduced himself and his partner.

  “This way.” Jerry led them toward a closed door at the end of the hall. “Your CSU people said to stay out of Jessica's bedroom and the kitchen but that it was okay to come into the spare bedroom since they don’t think that man ever came in here.”

  “Hello, Ms. Elgar.” Jack greeted the woman in the bed as they entered the bedroom.

  Dazed blue eyes looked back at him.

  “I'm Detective Xander, and this is my partner, Detective Lace. Is it okay if we ask you a few questions about what happened to you?”

  Jessica Elgar gave a shaky nod.

  For some reason, whomever had attacked her had only wanted to hurt her, not kill her. Just like with Judith Barclay. Only unlike with Judith Barclay, Jessica had been brutally tortured. From what he could see, there were bruises on her neck, small round burns on her arms which were resting on top of the comforter, the pinkie finger on her left hand was taped to the neighboring finger, and her lips and the skin around them were swollen and blistered. She looked like she should be in the hospital. “Ms. Elgar, are you sure you don’t want us to take you to the hospital?” Apparently, she had refused to go earlier.

  “No, no hospital.” Jessica’s voice was hoarse but she sounded firm. “I told the paramedics I didn’t want to go.”

  “Are you sure, honey?” Jerry asked her, perching on the bed beside her.

  “I'm sure.”

  “Are you sure you're up to answering some questions?” Jack asked. The woman didn’t look as if she were.

  “Yes,” she shivered. “I know you have to, so let’s just do it.”

  Grabbing the chair from the desk in the corner, Jack pulled it over to the bed, close but not too close, and sat down so they were eye to eye. “Can you walk us through what happened last night?”

  “I guess.” Jessica looked like she’d rather be anyplace but here.

  Jack smiled encouragingly. “Take your time.”

  Drawing in a shuddering breath, she began her tale. “I woke up with a hand over my mouth.”

  Same as Judith Barclay, Jack thought, but didn’t say it aloud.

  “He held a cloth soaked in something over my face, it smelled sweet.”

  Probably chloroform; Jack made a mental note to check into it. He hadn’t used anything to knock Judith out, probably because he hadn’t needed to move her. Even with a gun, it would have been difficult to restrain Jessica while she was conscious; he couldn
’t have predicted whether she would have fought him or not, so drugging her was the safest option.

  “I tried to hold my breath, but that was pointless. I felt my body start to go numb and then I passed out. When I woke up next, I was in the kitchen. He had tied me to the table. The ropes hurt my wrists and ankles when I tried to fight against them. And he’d put a gag in my mouth.” Absently a hand moved to brush at her lips, which had been damaged when the tape had been ripped off. “He had put a handkerchief in my mouth and then tape over the top. I tried to yell for help but I couldn’t. I was scared that I was going to choke.” She paused to compose herself.

  “Take a moment,” Jack told her softly. “Do you want some water or something?”

  “I'm okay.” Jessica reached out a hand to grasp one of her boyfriend’s. “He wasn't in the room when I first woke up. When he came in, he said, ‘Jessica, you're awake’. He knew my name, but I didn’t know him. How did he know my name?”

  So, he knew both Judith and Jessica–it seemed safe to assume he also knew Tarek Milford. He may be choosing his victims based on the fact they lived in a certain apartment, but he still knew them. “I don’t know, Ms. Elgar. Are you sure you’ve never seen him anywhere before?”

  “I'm positive, I didn’t know him, I'd never seen him before, but he knew me.” She shuddered violently.

  Jerry stood, walked to the closet, grabbed a spare blanket and took it back to the bed, where he wrapped it around Jessica’s shoulders. “If you change your mind, I can drive you to the hospital.” Jerry looked like he was a hairsbreadth away from throwing her in the car and taking her there, whether she wanted it or not.

  Jessica merely shook her head.

  “Do you think you can give us a description of him?” Jack asked; so far, they didn’t have anything on what this guy looked like. Tarek was dead and Judith had never seen his face.

  “He had blue eyes and brown hair, and his nose was kind of big,” Jessica replied.

  “Do you think you could work with a sketch artist?”

  “Yes.” Jessica nodded.

  “What happened next?” he prompted.

  “He touched me. Not like that,” she added quickly when she felt her boyfriend tense beside her. “He had taken my clothes off while I was unconscious, but he didn’t rape me, and he left my underwear on. He touched my head. But it made me feel sick. I was scared I was going to throw up, asphyxiate. I tried to breathe deeply through my nose and stay calm. Then he said to me that he had to move quickly. That he wouldn’t usually do this in such a public place where people could hear us, but that he had to do it here.”

  “Did he mention why he had to do it here?” Jack interrupted her to ask. This man had a specific target in mind. Whether it had to do with the building itself or one of the residents, Tarek, Judith, and Jessica had just been collateral damage on his way to his intended target.

  “No, but it was obviously important to him. Then he asked me if I smoked; he pulled out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter and lit one of them. He told me that he thought smoking was disgusting but that cigarettes served a purpose. He burned me.” She fingered the burns on her arms, eyeing them like she still couldn’t believe they were real. Like she still couldn’t believe all of this was real.

  Jack was about to offer reassurances and whatever comfort he could, but Jessica resumed her recount.

  “After he got bored with burning me, he took hold of my left wrist and the little finger. Then before I even realized what he was doing, he had snapped it.” She stared at the swollen digit. “Next, he pulled out a small knife. I knew he was going to cut me with it, I just didn’t know he was going to do what he did.” Tears were trickling down her cheeks as she recounted the horror she had endured, but Jessica didn’t seem to notice. “On my chest, he used the knife to write a word.”

  Jack already knew this and what the word was, but he wasn't going to push her to say it right now. “Did CSU get some photos of it?” he asked instead.

  She wiped at her wet cheeks. “Yes.”

  Jessica was starting to look tired, he wanted to leave her be and let her rest but they needed to finish hearing her story. “What happened after that?”

  “He put his hands around my neck,” she began again. Once more, her hands went to stray subconsciously to the injury, but Jerry grasped them before they reached it and clutched them tightly. “He squeezed and squeezed. I wanted to fight him, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t move. I was just starting to pass out when he stopped. He’d wait till I finished gulping in air and then he’d do it again. I'm sorry,” she said dully, “I don’t know how many times he did it. Maybe five or so. Maybe more. I lost count after three.”

  Her hoarse voice was due to the repeated strangulations. She really should have gone to the hospital to be monitored at least for the next few hours. There could be further swelling in her throat that could end up obscuring her airways. “Did he leave after that?” Jack asked.

  “Almost.” Jessica rested back against her pillows and pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “He said he was sorry that he couldn’t drown me. He said that meant it wasn't exactly the same, but it was close enough. She would get the message.”

  “‘She’?” Jack repeated, feeling the first real glimmer of hope that they might actually be moving closer to finding this guy. If they knew who he was after, they would be able to find him. Or at least be closer to finding him. “Did he say who the she was?”

  Giving a weary shake of her head, Jessica answered, “No.”

  “He didn’t give you any clues? A wife, a girlfriend, an ex, a daughter, anything?”

  “He just said that she would get the message, and then he left. I'm sorry, maybe he said more and I just didn’t hear it. I was a little out of it by that stage. I was in a lot of pain, and woozy, but I'm pretty sure he just left after that. I didn’t know how long I would have to lie there until someone found me. I knew Jerry was coming home, but I didn’t know if he was going to stop by his work first. I was scared. Almost more scared than when he’d been here. I wanted to cry, but the gag was still in my mouth. I almost couldn’t help it, though. By the time Jerry got here and found me, I was about ready to give in,” Jessica broke off as she dissolved into quiet tears.

  Jerry took over the narrative. “She was covered in blood when I got here. I called for help, then I pulled off the tape and she started to cry. I used a knife to cut her free, I pulled her off the table. And then I just held her.”

  “I thought I was going to die,” Jessica cried. “I thought that he was going to kill me. I truly thought that I was never going to leave my apartment alive. Why would he do this to me?” Her blue eyes sought his, desperately searching for answers so that she could attempt to make sense of what she’d been through.

  “I don’t know, Ms. Elgar,” he answered honestly. “But we’re going to find out. You know what’s happened here the last few days, with your downstairs neighbors?”

  “You think what happened to me is related to that?” Jessica’s eyes grew wide.

  “We’re going to look into it. Do you know Tarek Milford or Judith Barclay?” Jack asked.

  “No, I may have seen them around the building, but I've only lived here for a few weeks.”

  More confirmation that their guy wasn't choosing his victims for anything other than that they lived in particular apartments. His real target was the ‘she’ that he was trying to send a message to. A specific message. The murder, the rape, the torture—it all meant something to this mystery woman. Now they just had to find her. Before anyone else—including his real target—got hurt. “Have you noticed anything unusual going on in the building since you moved in?”

  “I don’t think so.” Jessica appeared to be fighting to keep her eyes open now.

  “All right, I think we have everything we need for now.” Jack stood. “When you're feeling better, we’ll send the sketch artist over to work with you. You should try to get some rest. Mr. Cutler, I assume you’ll be s
taying with her?”

  “She’ll be lucky if I don’t stay glued to her side for the rest of our lives.” Jerry’s eyes were fierce with protective concern.

  “Take her to the hospital if she gets any worse,” Jack advised.

  “I don’t need the hospital,” Jessica protested, but her voice was faint and her eyes were already closed; she was drifting off to sleep. “Send the sketch artist today. I don’t want this guy to hurt anyone else.”

  * * * * *

  4:09 P.M.

  “Sorry I was running a little late.” Mr. Elijah Jonas came bustling through the door.

  “No worries,” Jack assured the owner of the apartment building. He was only nine minutes late, no big deal. After their interview with Jessica Elgar, they had done a little work and then taken a late lunch to Paige’s. The fact that they’d been there to check up on her had been obvious, but Paige had been only mildly irritated. They had talked about the case while they ate, and Paige had seemed fairly relaxed when they left.

  At least she would have to the casual observer.

  However, both he and Rose had noticed how she jumped at every little noise. He didn’t think it was a good idea for her to be home on her own all day. Obviously, someone couldn’t stay with her all the time, but Paige had looked tired, and she was only going to hang around her house dwelling on what had happened till her husband got home. So, they had called Sofia on their way to their interview with Mr. Jonas and asked her to go and spend the rest of the day with Paige.

  Hopefully the two women could help each other. Both were just avoiding dealing with what had happened to them a few months back. While Paige had thrown herself into physical therapy, Sofia had thrown herself into raising baby Sophie. They both needed to sort some things out, and if they wouldn’t talk to anyone else, maybe they could talk to each other.

  Despite his concerns over Paige and Sofia, Jack was feeling more optimistic about their case. The target was someone in that building. Or the target was taking a seat right in front of them.