Evil Never Dies

Lizzy sped through a yellow light and Jessica clutched the grab handle. “Slow down, Lizzy. If we get pulled over, it’ll take even longer to get there.”

“So what do you think now? Is Jake Polly our man?” Lizzy asked.

Jessica sighed. “Do you have any idea how routinely people lie on their résumés and employment applications? People lie about past employment, degrees, DUIs, you name it.”

“Look at my notepad . . . at his initials. It’s the same mark he’s been leaving on his victims, for God’s sake. And like you said before, he’s not like other killers. He would never watch me from afar, which is exactly why he made a point of visiting me downtown under the guise of wanting to hang one of his posters inside my office.”

“Jake Polly came to your office?”

Lizzy kept her eyes on the road and nodded. “It’s just like you said—he wants to keep me up close and personal.”

Before Jessica had a chance to respond, her phone buzzed. She pulled it from her pocket. “It’s Mitchell,” she told Lizzy before she hit Talk.

“Where are you?” Mitchell growled loud enough to be heard by Lizzy.

“I’m with Lizzy Gardner. We’re checking out another lead.”

“By whose orders?”

She didn’t answer.

“I told you I wanted you here.”

“This will only take a few minutes, and then I’ll be on my way. Has the interrogation started?”

“In two minutes.”

The call was disco

“He sounds a little demanding,” Lizzy said.

“Look who’s talking.”

“Thanks for believing in me.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice. Once your mind is set, there’s no stopping you. And I don’t like the idea of you ru

“Well, thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“I’m here, aren’t I? I might lose my job, but we aren’t leaving Jake Polly’s house until you’re sure he’s not your man, all right?”

“OK.” By the time she pulled her car in front of the address they’d been given, Lizzy felt somewhat defeated. What Jessica said was true; once again she had acted hastily, going on instinct rather than proof. But they were here now, and she wasn’t going to let on that she was quickly losing faith that she had the right man.

Lizzy climbed out of the car and waited for Jessica.

The house was on a tree-lined street that might have struck her as lovely under different circumstances. The house had been built on a steep hill with a bank falling sharply into the river. She could smell the river from where she stood—damp and earthy.

“OK,” Jessica said as she walked toward the front door, “let’s do this.”

Lizzy followed behind, decided to let Jessica do her thing, since she appeared to be much better at acting cool and calm.

Jessica rapped her knuckles against the door.

Lizzy pressed her face up close to the decorative glass and tried to see inside. She could see straight through the hallway and into the main area. The doors to a balcony were wide-open, and there appeared to be a nice view of trees and water. Then she saw a man walk past, carrying something in his arms. Her heart rate soared. “I think a man just walked by with someone in his arms.”

Jessica waited another minute before she knocked again.

When Lizzy saw someone coming toward the door, she took a step back and listened to a series of dead bolts and chains being dealt with. Who kept more than one dead bolt on their door unless they wanted to keep something out . . . or in his case, something in?

Claire tried to sit up, but every part of her felt heavy. She could hardly lift her head from the mattress. When the maniac had fed her some sort of liquid drug using a teaspoon, Claire had managed to let half of it dribble out the side of her mouth after he turned away.

She was woozy, but she’d pretended to be completely out of it as he carried her from the wine cellar and up the stairs to the living room, waiting for him to leave her side for one damn minute. But he hadn’t left her side. He’d carried her to the couch and then made himself comfortable. The weirdo had snuggled close and kept his arm around her as if they were boyfriend and girlfriend living in a house on the river.

It took some effort, but she managed to push her legs from the bed. She was worse off than she’d first thought. Her mind was relatively active and clear, but her body wasn’t responding to her brain’s directives.

She could hear the psycho talking to someone at the door. It wasn’t the kid he often complained about because she could hear a voice . . . a woman’s voice. They were questioning him about something, but he was playing coy, making jokes, and having a good laugh.

Adrenaline made her heart pump faster. She tried to scream, but her voice was gone. She needed to get out of there.

When she slid off the side of the bed, she bumped her hip against the wooden frame and fell to the floor. She grasped the carpeted floor, feeling the nylon fibers between her fingers, using the strands to pull herself to the door. She needed to hurry. Her body had been mutilated, and yet she no longer felt any pain. She was way past feeling anything at all. Her arms were weak, but she had to be strong.

It seemed like forever before she finally got to the door. Using the wall for support, she pushed herself upward to her knees, relieved when she managed to grasp the doorknob.

Her efforts were all for nothing.

It was no use.

The door had been locked from the other side. Bastard had thought of everything. She glanced toward the window, thankful she could still hear people talking at the door. She felt so tired. She couldn’t pass out now.

Please don’t leave me here. Please don’t leave.

Crawling on all fours, she made it halfway across the room before she was on her belly again, snaking her way across the room. Her right leg gave out first. Whatever he had given her was just now taking effect. No. No. No.

Come on. You can do it. Not much farther to go.

She already knew she wouldn’t have the strength to open the window. She needed to throw something at it. Break it if she could. But with what?

There was a lamp and a clock on the bedside table. There were books set within bronzed bookends on the bottom shelf. Just another foot or two to go. She headed that way.

Jessica started the conversation by pulling out her badge and asking Jake Polly straight up if he knew anything about the whereabouts of Claire Kerley.

Although the man looked sufficiently surprised by the badge and the question, he pulled himself together and said, “Lizzy, how nice to see you again.”

Lizzy grunted.

“Now, who is this person you’re looking for?”

“Claire Kerley.” He was a creepy man, Jessica thought, no doubt about it. He had a wild look about him, and he seldom blinked. She noticed a bruise on his jaw and more than one scratch on his neck. As Lizzy had mentioned, his hands were covered with scrapes.

Restless, Lizzy stepped away. She walked along, staying close to the side of the house. It was obvious that she was trying to get a peek through a window.

“What is she doing? Do you have a search warrant?”

“Why? Do I need one?”

“I have nothing to hide, if that’s what you’re asking, but I must say I don’t appreciate her wandering around my property without permission. Please tell me what’s going on.”