Evil Never Dies

With everything Lizzy and the girls had going on, the last thing she wanted to do was sit across the table from a couple of FBI special agents. In the end, she figured she didn’t have much of a choice. There was no denying that Jimmy Martin was a good friend, but, more importantly, there was a killer on the loose. If she could be of any help, then she would do whatever she could.

The conference room they were brought to was spacious with four white walls. A picture of J. Edgar Hoover dominated one of the walls. In the center of the room was a long rectangular table where Jimmy Martin and Ke

Jimmy was a cancer survivor. He was in his midsixties. He looked good.

Ke

Jimmy stood and greeted Lizzy with a friendly embrace.

After introductions were made, Jessica and Lizzy took offered seats across the table from the two men. The woman in the beige blazer made sure everyone had water before she left, shutting the door behind her.

Jimmy got to it. “Ke

Lizzy nodded.

“I’d like to begin by saying how sorry I am for your loss,” Mitchell said. “Jared was well liked and respected for his single-mindedness when it came to solving a case. He was one of the brightest men I’ve ever worked with.”

“Thank you.”

“We realize this is an incredibly tough time for you,” Jimmy added. “I think you know me well enough to know I wouldn’t drag you here if it wasn’t important.”

“I understand.”

“To start off,” Mitchell said, “it’s important that we ask you if Jared ever talked to you about any of the cases he was working on.”

“He rarely spoke about work,” Lizzy said. “Most evenings, I was the one who brought work home and then picked his brain for ideas.”

He glanced at his notes. “Do you recall Jared ever keeping record of his daily activities, perhaps a journal where he might have kept tabs on people he interviewed or places he visited?”

“No. I would have known if he kept any sort of log.”

He scribbled something on his notepad before continuing. “What about any phone calls? Do you recall Jared having any conversation at all that might have sounded strained in any way? Perhaps you remember a change in his voice or demeanor, anything that might have stood out at the time as being out of the norm?”

She shook her head. “I can’t think of a thing. The truth is, I was so busy I didn’t have time to help Jared plan our wedding. You would have been better off talking to our neighbor, Heather, since she spent more time with him leading up to the wedding day than I did.”

“Can we talk to her?”

“She’s dead,” Lizzy said bluntly.

“I see.” Mitchell reached into his file and began laying out pictures of recent crime scenes in front of Lizzy. One photo was of a young woman among leaves and twigs, her body arranged just so. She had been sliced across the abdomen. There was also a picture of a handheld mirror with a gold finish. She figured that was the mirror Jessica had mentioned.

Among the other pictures was a magnified photograph of the mark the killer left on his victims. Jessica was right. The mark, in some cases, could easily be mistaken as a scratch or a cut. Some were big, some small. It looked like some sort of symbol. A capital Z with an extra line through it. There were also pictures of the other items found over the years: a clock, a sphere, a book, a bouquet of irises, a wreath of red roses placed around the top of a male victim’s head. There were more pictures, but nothing made sense, so she stopped looking. “What do you think all of this means?”

“We’ve got a team of people working on it. A lot of ideas are being tossed into the hat, but so far we have nothing definitive and no correlation between any of the objects.”

“It’s there,” Jessica said. “Right there in front of us. With every victim, he’s giving us a clue, a piece of him. It’s like putting together a puzzle.”

Lizzy picked up another picture. It looked like a stone. “Is that coral?”

Mitchell nodded. “That was found in the front pocket of one of his youngest victims, a young girl strangled outside a rest-stop bathroom while she waited for her mother. She also had a watch clutched tightly in her hand.”

“He wouldn’t have had much time,” Lizzy said.

“Which is why he didn’t take the time to carve his mark into the girl. She’s one of the few who does not have the symbol, but it’s the timepiece that co

“Four fifteen,” Jessica said. “Could be another clue.”

“Jessica mentioned that you thought Jared might have been close to identifying the killer. Why is that?”

“As you probably know, Agent Shayne worked this particular case for the last year after Gordon Presley retired. He’s the one who first noticed the symbol or mark on two of the victims. We have reason to believe that sometime within a twenty-four-hour time frame before your wedding day, the killer or someone close to the killer made contact with him.”

Lizzy paled. “Jared was at a hotel the night before our wedding. I talked to him for only a few minutes the next day.” She drew in a steadying breath. “He didn’t mention anything about receiving a call from a killer.”

Jessica put a hand on Lizzy’s shoulder. She looked at Jimmy and said, “Are we done here?”

Mitchell kept his gaze on Lizzy. “We would appreciate it if you could take a look through Jared’s things . . . a calendar with an unfamiliar number scribbled in the margins, a notebook, anything that might stand out or stir a memory.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Lizzy said as Jessica stood.

They all came to their feet. Jimmy walked them to the door. Lizzy realized then that her hands were shaking and her knees felt weak. She needed to get out of there.

Box after box of Jared and Lizzy’s life together were brought into the house. Tommy had borrowed a friend’s truck, driven to storage, and picked up every box with Jared’s name on it.

“Unless you need anything else,” Tommy said to the group, “I’m going to take off.”

“Thanks for your help,” Lizzy said.

“No problem.” He pointed a finger at Hayley. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, five o’clock.”

“Why so early?” Hayley asked.

“It’ll take us a couple of hours to get to San Francisco, and I want to beat the crowds. I’ll see you then.” Before Hayley could protest, he gave a backhanded wave and made a quick exit.

“Where are you two going?” Kitally asked.

“Some sort of concert.”

“Wow,” Kitally said. “A real official date.”

“It’s not a date.”

Lizzy took a box cutter and sliced through the tape on the biggest box. “He’s picking you up. Taking you to a concert. Definitely a date.” Without opening the box, she went to the next and cut that one open, too, and then the next, and so on.

Hayley must have noted Lizzy’s reluctance to look inside. The girl knew her well. Hayley opened the first box and began sorting through Jared’s things, carefully, methodically, without making a big deal about whatever was inside.

Lizzy knew she wasn’t emotionally prepared to do this, but there was a serial killer on the loose and he needed to be stopped. She tried to look at it like any other investigation.

“What exactly are we looking for?” Kitally asked.