Midnight Caller

Rooted to the spot, she stared into the darkness. She thought she saw a furtive movement in the shadows.

“Hello?”

Ice-cold fingers of fear crept up her spine. Erin wasn’t stupid enough to stand around in the darkness waiting for answers that didn’t come. She sprinted toward the exit and burst through the door. Never before had she been so happy to see the ebb and flow of people moving through the corridor.

What was the matter with her? Since when was she afraid of the dark? That’ll teach her to break the rules. She collapsed against the wall, leaned her head back and tried to catch her breath.

“Miss Erin? Are you okay?”

Erin glanced up. Lenny stood beside her, holding blood specimen tubes housed in plastic bags in both hands.

Erin’s chest heaved from the exertion of the last few minutes but she managed to smile.

“I’m fine, Lenny.” She pushed off the wall, grateful to see the entrance to the ER straight ahead. “Just getting a little exercise on my break.” She nodded and hurried past him.

The rest of her shift passed without incident. After report she waved at Carol and said goodbye to her peers. Erin hurried to the lobby. Her nerves were still on edge and she’d be glad when she was home. She rummaged around the bottom of her purse for her keys and stepped outside. Pausing for a moment in the entranceway, she glanced up.

God, it’s so beautiful tonight. Look at those stars. I’m constantly in awe of Your breathtaking creations.

The breeze ruffled her hair. She shoved her hands into her jacket pocket but couldn’t find her scarf. She fumbled in her purse, admonishing herself for the hundredth time for owning a purse without separate compartments, and came up empty. Where is it? She chewed her bottom lip. Think. When was the last time you had your scarf?

She shuffled the purse contents. Cell phone. Wallet. Lipstick. Tissues. Paperback.

This color looks good on you, brings out the color of your eyes.

Tony. The silk scarf slipping ever so slowly through his fingers. She stared into her purse. The scarf was gone.

Lost in thought, she walked to her car and almost missed the item tucked beneath her windshield wiper. Erin pulled out the dead, withered rose and opened the small white note wrapped around the stem. She held it under the lamp light and read it. Then, read it again. Her fingers trembled and the note slipped to the ground.

FOUR

Sergeant Greene stood in the front of the room. “Okay, men. What do we have?”

“The autopsy report is back on Cynthia Mayors,” Tony said. “Same findings as Anne Morton and Leigh Porter with one difference. She fought back hard enough to provide DNA material for testing.”

“Yeah, if we come up with someone to test,” Spence grumbled.

“Official cause of death,” Tony continued, “in all three cases was exsanguination.”

Brad Winters spoke up. “Let me get this straight. He did what he wanted with these women and then what? Did he just pull up a chair and watch them bleed to death? I don’t get it.”

“Let’s hope none of us ever understand that kind of rage,” Tony said.

“Where are we with suspects?” Sarge asked.

Spence cleared his throat. “None, Sarge. Zip. Nada.”

“Spence and I are going to take another run at the convenience store where Anne Morton worked,” Winters said. “Most of us have the habit of frequenting the store closest to our home. You know, the wife calls and you run in to get milk or bread on the way home. Maybe this guy was a regular customer. One night he goes in there and she says or does something that sets him off. Something made her a victim.”

“Yeah, Sarge. And if he does live in the area, then the other clerks might recognize him as a regular. We’re hoping now that some time has passed and they’ve gotten over the initial shock of the murder they might remember something.”

“All we got out of the manager last time was that Morton was dependable,” Winters said. “Never missed a day of work. Even brought her kid to work with her once when her babysitter was a no-show.”

“Husband? Family? Friends?” Sarge asked.

“None we could find,” Spence replied. “The lady went to work and went home to her kid. Period.” He leaned back in his chair and sighed audibly.

“Three women. Three different lifestyles with no visible connection,” Tony said. “One worked as an assistant manager at a convenience store. One worked as an administrative assistant for a local contracting company. Our third victim was a nurse. Two white, one black. One single, one married and one going through a divorce. Three different neighborhoods, three different economic situations. The only obvious connection is that all three victims have children. Lord help us if that is the only criterion this nutcase uses. Imagine trying to protect all the moms in this world.”

Sergeant Greene clamped his teeth down hard on a yellow pencil. After a moment of contemplation, he barked, “Are you suggesting these are random killings? That there’s no connection between these victims?” He shook his head. “Don’t buy it. There’s got to be a common link. Something ties these women together. You’re missing it, fellows. Dig deeper.”

“That’s why we’re going back to the convenience store,” Winters said. “Maybe we can jog somebody’s memory. Maybe a customer who hung around too much. Or Morton complained to a coworker about a rude comment. Something.”

“I might have something,” Tony said. “Leigh Porter’s pastor called. Something’s been nagging at him. He doesn’t think it’s important, but obviously, whatever it is, he wants to get it off his chest. I made an appointment rather than have him tell me over the phone so I’d have the opportunity to probe a little. Maybe it’ll lead somewhere.”

“Good. See what you can turn up.” The sergeant gathered the papers in front of him and stood. “Let’s not waste time. We’ve got a serial killer to catch.”

Tony slid out of his car, arched his back and removed his jacket. He reached into the backseat, withdrew a small bag and hung his jacket on the inside hook above the side window. Before walking up to Erin’s front door, he stretched again. It had been a grueling day.