Evil Never Dies

“Definitely,” Brittany answered. “There’s nothing like the emotion I feel when I look at paintings I love.”

Jake Polly beamed at her, then turned to Lizzy. “She’s very bright,” he said. “It’s all about what you feel inside here.” He put a hand over his heart. “The beauty of artwork is that it can challenge preconceived ideas.”

“I didn’t realize looking at a painting could be so thought-provoking.”

“Well, maybe not a still life. A bowl of lemons might not have a deeper meaning.” He winked at Brittany. “But who am I to say?”

“You do amazing work,” Brittany told him, blushing.

“Nice of you to say.” He looked at his watch. “Time has gotten the best of me. I need to meet up with friends. But first I must thank you, Lizzy Gardner, for letting me put the flyer in your window.”

She nodded, but she couldn’t help it—she didn’t like the man and didn’t appreciate the way he ogled Brittany.

“See you in class,” he told Brittany before sauntering away.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Olimpia Padula turned on the bathwater and then went to the bedroom, where she sat on the edge of the bed and removed her heels and stockings. She had worked a ten-hour shift today, and her feet were throbbing. She massaged the arches of both feet and then removed the rest of her clothes before heading back into the bathroom.

She adjusted the temperature of the water as the tub filled, then readied her towel and made sure she had everything she needed for a long, hot bath. Soaking in the tub was better than enjoying a glass of wine while watching the sunset. It was her favorite thing to do.

She rushed back into the bedroom when she realized she’d forgotten her mask that she liked to put over her eyes. She turned the radio on, something soothing, a little classic soul. Last, she added some lavender oil to the water. She shut the faucet off and then dipped her toes in first. Perfect.

After settling fully into the tub, she slid her mask over her eyes and laid her head back on the bath pillow. Her only thought was how lucky she was to have found a full-time job. In three months’ time she would have full benefits. Life was turning around for her. She was going to be all right.

A noise in the other room lifted her out of her thoughts. She slid her mask up to her forehead. “Is anyone there?”

Wayne Be

How the hell did he get inside her apartment? Nobody had a key but her. “I think you should leave,” she told him, unwilling to stand up while she was unclothed. He’d seen it all, but he wasn’t going to get another free show. When he failed to listen to her demands, panic set in. “Get out of here right now, or I will scream.”

“I don’t think you should do that,” he said as he stepped closer. “Do you know what I think you should do?”

Bewildered, she shook her head.

“I think you should die.” He knelt swiftly beside the tub and, his big hands covering her face, shoved her under the water and held her down. She thought she could fight him, but he was too strong, and he was right . . . she was go

After dropping Brittany off, Lizzy made a call to Jessica.

“Hey,” Jessica said when she answered, “what’s going on?”

“Are you in the middle of something?”

“Just packing and getting ready to fly back to California.”

“I wanted to call and see if you found anything on Zachary Tucker, the name I gave you after talking to Kathryn Church.”

“If you have time,” Jessica told her, “I’ll grab my notes and tell you what I’ve found.”

“I’ve got time. I’m driving home, and you’re on speaker.”

When Jessica came back on the line, she said, “This is what I know so far. Zachary H. Tucker was born to Phil and Patty Tucker on September 20, 1977, and his little sister drowned in July of 1985. There is nothing that even hints at the possibility that Zachary was responsible for his sister’s death. Besides, he was eight years old at the time.”

“You said yourself that there are serial killers as young as ten years old.”

“I did, didn’t I? Anyhow,” Jessica went on, “as you mentioned last time we talked, if Kathryn Church saw Zachary kill his sister, it seems farfetched. She was in another house altogether. Her view could have very easily been distorted, and she was very young at the time.”

“Maybe I can visit the house where they used to live and see what Kathryn’s view would have looked like. Where were the Tuckers living at the time? Do you know?”

“It’s right here. They were living at 3500 Canyon Road in Sacramento at the time of the incident, but after Zachary turned eighteen, they moved to Florida. After that, it gets fuzzy.”

“What do you mean?”

“On paper, it looks as if he disappeared off the face of the earth. I ca

“How about a picture of a young Zachary Tucker?”

“That’s where it gets even weirder. Five years ago, Patty and Phil Tucker were killed during a robbery. According to the reports, jewelry was taken, but the only person they could rely on for that information was Gillian Winslow. It looks like Zachary’s parents hired Winslow to take care of everything. Their will even stipulates that she’s to be Zachary’s trustee until the day he dies. She’s a psychologist. It seems strange that these people would hire a psychologist for their son and then put her in charge of everything. I don’t get it. I called Gillian Winslow’s office. Her secretary said she should be back to work next week.”

“Are you saying there is absolutely no paper trail or anything else for this man?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. We need to talk to Gillian Winslow. And that’s not all—it gets even more bizarre.”

“How so?”

“It was easy enough to find out what elementary school Zachary Tucker attended. Every classroom in every school I’ve ever heard of takes a class picture, and the school he attended was no exception.”

“But?”

“But somehow Zachary managed to miss picture day every single year from kindergarten through the eighth grade.”

“That is curious.”

“Unquestionably.”

“It sounds like our only hope is the psychologist.”

“That’s right.” There was a shuffling of papers on the other end before Jessica said, “Anything else on your mind?”

“As a matter of fact, there is. Brittany and I just returned from a Second Saturday Art Walk near Midtown.”

“I’m glad you had a chance to spend time together.”

“So am I. She’s definitely passionate about art. But the reason I’m bringing this up is because I learned a lot about symbolism used in artwork, and I think you’re going to find it all very interesting.”

“Go on.”

“This might sound like a crapshoot, but the objects in those pictures Ke