Kill for Me

“Emotional response. You’re thinking he was a soldier, captured maybe?”

“Maybe. Susa

“Hell, half the town is over sixty, Luke.”

“Yeah. Looks like anybody with brains got out of Dodge right after high school.”

“Can you blame them?” Luke separated out the photos with older men and pi

“The whole Buddhist thing.”

“Yeah.” Luke frowned. “But there isn’t a Buddhist congregation in Dutton. I checked.”

“He didn’t have to be a real cleric,” Nate said.

“He just had to be able to have access to a teenager without it being obvious.”

“Meaning he could be a teacher, a preacher, a doctor… All the usual suspects.”

“All of which have lived there since Susa

Nate looked surprised. “When did you do that?”

“Last night. It was what I was doing when you called to tell me about seeing Becky Snyder’s little sisters on the Net.”

Nate’s eyes shadowed. “Any of those men serve in ’Nam?”

“Not one. If I’d found one, I would have hauled my ass over here last night.” Instead, he’d taken a few hours of comfort in Susa

“Well, your ass is here now, whether it wants to be or not.” Nate pulled up a chair. “Let’s get started. Four eyes are better than two.”

Luke shot him a grateful look. “Thanks.”

Charlotte, North Carolina, Monday, February 5, 11:45 a.m.

Harry Grimes sat next to CSU tech Mandy Pe

“What are you looking for, exactly?” Mandy asked.

“I’m not sure.” Harry leaned forward. “That’s the kidnapper’s Volvo pulling past the camera, into the parking lot. There’s another car. It’s stopping, watching.”

“It’s a Ford Crown Vic,” Mandy said. In the distance, two figures grappled. The smaller figure was dragged to the back of the Volvo. Through each still, the Crown Vic maintained position, and Mandy whistled softly. “You’re right, Harry. He’s watching.”

“Can you zoom on the license plate?”

“I can try.” Mandy zoomed, focused, then sat back, satisfied. “There you go.”

“Excellent.” He squinted at the photo. “Is the guy in the Crown Vic talking on a cell?”

“Looks like. Maybe calling 911?”

“Nobody called 911 from that location. I checked. Can you run an ID on that plate?”

Mandy did, then went still, eyes wide. “He wasn’t calling the cops. He is a cop.”

Harry looked at her screen, stu

“Maybe the car was stolen.”

“I sure hope so. Thanks, Mandy.” Harry started back for his desk. “I owe you one.”

Springdale, Monday, February 5, noon

Talia parked in front of the house belonging to Carl Linton, Marcy Linton’s father. “You ready for this, Susa

Susa

“The Lintons reported her missing when she was nineteen.”

“She’d gone to New York by then. I didn’t meet her for another two years. Why did she leave her family? Why did she target me?”

“We won’t find out sitting here,” Talia said. “Let’s go.”

Talia’s knock was met by an older man with graying hair. “Mr. Linton?” Talia asked.

“Yes.” He studied Susa

“I’m Special Agent Talia Scott of the Georgia Bureau of Investigation. This is Assistant District Attorney Vartanian, from New York. We need to talk with you.”

His frown deepened and he opened the door. “Come in.”

A woman came from the kitchen and froze. “You’re the Vartanian woman. We saw you on the news. You shot that woman. The one who’d kidnapped all those girls.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Why are you here?” Carl Linton asked, more harshly.

Talia’s head tilted, just a hair. “We need to talk to you about your daughter, Marcy.”

Both Lintons drew shocked breaths. “Sit down,” Carl said.

Talia took the lead. “After you reported Marcy missing, did you hear from her again?”

“No,” Carl said. “Why? For God’s sake tell us what this is about.”

“Your daughter is dead, sir,” Susa

Both parents sagged. “How?” Mrs. Linton whispered.

Talia nodded and Susa

“We know,” Carl said coldly.

“When I was in graduate school in New York, I met a woman who said her name was Darcy Williams. She and I became friends. She told me she was from Queens, that she’d run away from an abusive family. Today I saw a photo of Marcy in her high school yearbook. She was the woman I knew as Darcy. Darcy was murdered.”

“Murdered?” Mrs. Linton had grown paler. “How? Where? When?”

“A man beat her to death.” Susa

Carl shook his head, denial clear in his eyes. “Why would she tell you those lies?”

“We think she may have been hired to,” Talia said quietly. “Or perhaps forced to.”

Mrs. Linton’s lips trembled. “Where is she now?”

“In a cemetery about an hour north of New York City. It’s a pretty place. Peaceful.” Susa

“ADA Vartanian paid for her burial,” Talia said gently.

“We want her back,” Carl said, so hostilely that Susa

“Of course. I’ll arrange for it immediately.”

Talia put her hand over Susa

Carl’s jaw went hard as stone. “We want her back,” he said, enunciating every word.

“I sympathize with your grief, sir,” Talia said. “I need to understand your hostility.”

Carl straightened abruptly. “Our daughter was taken from us, forced to do God knows what, then murdered, and you have the nerve to criticize me?”

“I’m not criticizing you,” Talia said.

“The hell you’re not.” Carl lurched to his feet, pointing a trembling finger at Susa

Susa

Carl’s fists were on his hips and his face was florid. “Don’t pretend you don’t know. Don’t pretend you cared about her. I’ve had enough from Vartanians to last me the rest of my goddamn life.” He slammed the front door so hard the whole place shook.

Susa

Mrs. Linton remained, whether by choice or simply because she was trembling too hard to move Susa