Wrongly Accused

WRONGLY ACCUSED By Santana Ovitt Chapter One     Sarah sat at her scarred oak kitchen table with her laptop, going over the case she had prepared once more. It was a difficult case, one where the man she was supposed to be prosecuting didn’t seem to her to be the guilty party. The evidence seemed to stack up against him too neatly, like it was prepackaged and handed over with a big old ribbon attached. There were inconsistencies where there shouldn’t be. In most cases she had presented in the courtroom, the accused had always worked at covering their tracks, making it difficult for the police to gather evidence against them. However, this case had his DNA all over the house, the victim, the vehicle, everywhere.     Frowning at the laptop, she hit the escape key and closed out of the investigative report, choosing instead to pull up the initial police report. This is where things became sketchy. The difference between the emergency call, the initial report, and the investigative report that concluded with Josh Taylor being the only suspect. The emergency call was place at 9:03 pm by a relative of the victim. The victim’s sister, to be precise. The sister, Mary Lee Clark, entered the residence at 8:58 pm and found the residence trashed out. Instead of going any further than the entrance to the living room, which had been the scene of a major struggle, she backed out of the residence cautiously and called 911, reporting that she thought her sister’s home had been robbed and that she didn’t know if her sister was inside, injured or not.      According to the call, she was instructed to enter the darkened house, turn on a light which yielded no power source, and to call out for her sister. She can be heard on the audio tape doing as she was instructed. She shakily responded that no one answered. The operator then asked her to check the home to see if her sister was in there, injured or unresponsive, which is one of a series of faults that an operator should never ask one to do in this type of situation. The woman audibly hesitates and responds, again shakily, that she can’t. She told the operator that she was scared and asked what she would do if there was still someone inside. Instead of the response the operator should have given, the woman stated that they wouldn’t know until she checked, obviously coaxing the young caller inside the house, but to what avail?     Sarah slipped her ear buds in and listened even more carefully to the audio recording of the 911 call. If the details weren’t already sketchy enough with the operator insisting the young woman enter the residence when she should have told her to return to her vehicle with doors locked and remain inside until help arrived, this is where it got worse. “I-I can’t! What if she’s dead?! What if I find my sister dead?!” The young woman cries into the phone hysterically. The operator, instead of using a soothing tone and instructing the woman not to enter a possible crime scene, replies, “If she is laying there bleeding and we don’t get to her in time because you can’t tell us anything, then she probably will die. Now, please, follow my instructions carefully. The person is likely gone already Miss, and you are wasting precious seconds your sister may not have.” The young woman sniffles, crying slightly in the phone and breathing quite fast, all signs of being frightened. She agrees to follow the operator’s instructions and once again enters the residence.      The operator instructs the young woman to again try a light switch, which again yields no power. Then she is instructed to enter the living area where the room seemed badly torn up. After a check, the shaky young woman replies that her sister is not there. The operator then responds, “Okay, now I want you to go up to the bedroom and check there. Most victims will hide in a closet or underneath their bed during a robbery.” The young woman starts crying a little louder and tells the operator ‘Okay.’ Then you can hear her climbing the stairs slowly. The door to what is presumably the bedroom squeaks open slowly, and her breathing picks up speed as she enters the room. “Are you in the room?” the operator, impatiently, asks her. “Y-yes.” She whispers back. “Good, now bend over and lift the covers on the bed. Look under the bed and tell me if she is there.”      Its easily heard when the young woman bends down and checks under the bed. The next thing she hears, which is perhaps the most disturbing part of the audio is where the young woman starts to tell the operator that her sister is not under the bed when the attack unfolds. Her words are cut off midsentence by a strange gurgling sound, then an ear piercing scream, during which the operator says nothing and, according to computer records, does nothing as well. The young woman screams ‘Help me, please! Don’t do this, I was just looking for my sister please! I have nothing of value, I swear!’ she’s sobbing, and then screams of pain rip through the line. Once silence is reestablished, you can hear someone pick up the phone, which was not recovered at the scene and has not been recovered since. There is loud, raspy breathing into the line before it goes dead. At this point the operator then says, “Hang in there, help is on the way,” and dispatches police to the scene, but no ambulance.     Sarah frowns at the audio recording and replays the last moments. The computer records show that the operator dispatched police rescue after speaking her final words into the dead line. There is a clear and distinguishable pause after the decisive cutting of the call before the operator speaks her final words and dispatches help. The 911 call is only the beginning of the troublesome turns in this case. Of course, the operator had been questioned as to her conduct, but that was where the inquiry was dropped. The operator was placed on paid leave pending an investigation, but no investigation has been brought against her.      However, the resounding questions in Sarah’s mind kept playing into her inexplicable feeling that Josh Taylor is innocent. Why didn’t the operator instruct the victim to get back in her car and lock the doors? Why didn’t she dispatch police right away? Why instruct someone to enter the scene of a crime and possible homicide? How did she know the bedroom was upstairs? Why didn’t she dispatch police and an ambulance during the attack? Why did she wait until the line went dead to send help? And why didn’t she send an ambulance? She could not have known the victim was beyond saving for one, and for two, the young woman would not have been a victim of a homicide had it not been for the operator coercing her into that house.      Sarah frowned again, knowing that something was off with the operator was not only damaging to the case she was forced to present, but it was also immoral to prosecute one man for murder when there was a conspiracy afoot and the murder suspect being brought to trial may be innocent of all charges. Sighing loudly, she thought of her responsibility to seek justice for this woman and her missing sister. But would justice really be served if the wrong man was put behind bars? She exhaled a long sigh and decided to mull it over further with a cup of hot coffee and a crumb Danish.     Grabbing a slice of her favorite Danish and a fresh cup of coffee, Sarah carried her laptop to the living room and sat on her big sofa cross legged with an old afghan. It was only Saturday, but the trial begins on Monday and Sarah knew she had a lot to do before presenting her opening statements Monday morning. Something was terribly off with the case, and she felt responsible to figure out what it was. Sarah began reading the initial police report for the thousandth time.      It seemed to be a standard, run of the mill report, at first glance anyway. The police responded to the residence at 9:35 pm. As they entered the scene, they found the electricity to be restored, although the fuse panel was ajar, and the living room showed signs of a struggle. The couch was tipped over, the glass coffee table was smashed and had a large smear of blood on some of the larger glass fragments. The carpet had dried blood stains on it as well. An inspection of the kitchen yielded signs of the door being forced open, and one leg of the small kitchen table was broken, seeming to be the scene where the struggle first began. Dishes were in the sink in soapy water that had long since lost its bubbles, and some were in the dish drainer. It appeared the intruder attacked the elder sister while she was in the middle of washing dishes.      The report continued as the officers went upstairs to investigate. The first room off the top landing was what appeared to be a guest room. It was clear, no sign of struggle or occupancy. Turning left, they entered what seemed to be an office. There was an expensive laptop sitting beside a top of the line printer, scanner, fax machine, digital camera, and a stack of checks for large amounts to be paid to the missing woman for photography services rendered. This is where it seemed to veer off the track of robbery gone wrong to something more sinister. This wasn’t about money because if it was, it seemed to Sarah that the electronics would be missing. But nothing in that room appeared to be touched. They reportedly exited that room and entered the one directly across the hall, the bathroom. This room, too, was clean. At the end of the hall, they found her. Nineteen year old Mary Lee Clark was sprawled on the floor, naked, and obviously dead. There was blood everywhere. One officer bent to check for a pulse. Pushing the long auburn hair from the young girl’s face, he found her eyes wide open and staring in horror fixedly straight ahead. Her mouth was open in a silent scream that the world would never hear again. There was blood that had oozed from her mouth and nose, multiple blunt wounds to the back of her skull, causing more blood. She had been stabbed multiple times. Her back had been broken, but the official cause of death was strangulation.      The poor girl had suffered unspeakable horror and pain needlessly, but what made it worse was the fact that it would not have happened had she not been coerced into entering that house. The officers did a cursory check of the rest of the room, including the master bath, but did not find the occupant of the home. That is where their initial report ends and the investigative report begins. What Sarah found most troubling about that initial report was that the officer who wrote up the report had initially stated that robbery did not seem evident, but later amended his statement in the report after the investigation began. Why? What prompted that change? The officer later resigned from the force before Sarah could even speak to him about that change. What prompted his sudden resignation? She couldn’t help but feel like something was off about that, but how could she prove it?     It all came down to the investigation. That’s really where the waters get murky, Sarah thought. The investigation had changed hands when the original investigator had to take leave after his wife and daughter had a car accident. They were expected to recover, but the road to recovery would be long and he needed to be there for them. Shaking her head to clear it of possible conspiracy theories, she tried to look at the investigative report from the point of view that an outsider, someone new to the case, might have. Maybe even from the point of view of an average, unbiased citizen with no legal or medical training. That may help, or so she hoped.     The report started with the murder, but had also originally included statements from neighbors and a missing person report for the twenty five year old sister, Jessica Hewitt, who was going through a divorce as a result of her affair with an unknown male. Zach Hewitt was the first suspect in the original report, but had been ruled out when his alibi checked out. Both phone records, credit card records, and witness accounts confirmed his whereabouts for the entire day. He had motive, according to the report, but no opportunity or means. The original report concluded that the man with whom Jessica had had an affair with could not be identified by either Mr. Hewitt or any of Jessica’s close family or friends. The only one who may have known the identity of Jessica’s lover was her sister, Mary. Cell phone and email records confirmed this, which gave Detective Johnson an established motive. It was at this point that Johnson’s family had their accident and the investigation was turned over to Detective Jonah Clark. Detective Clark amended the original report to state that the lover had been identified through emails Jessica had sent to her sister. The lover was identified as twenty seven year old Josh Taylor, who had no alibi for the time during which the break in and subsequent murder occurred. Taylor’s DNA was found at the residence, and blood evidence showed he was inside the home at some point during the attack.      Witness accounts purportedly corroborated this altered version of the original report. The DNA evidence found on Mary’s body as well as the evidence from the master bathroom in the residence, where the intruder was supposed to have washed his hands, were also purported to be Taylor’s. Mary’s ransacked car, which was not reported in the initial police report or the original investigative report as having been so, also held traces of Taylor’s DNA. Robbery was reestablished as a motive as Detective Clark deemed there to be missing debit cards from Mary’s car. A check of bank records showed there to be large ATM withdrawals from Mary’s account, and a freeze was immediately placed on the account. However, the cards were not recovered.      What really bothered Sarah was that Taylor had been picked up before the freeze was placed on Mary’s bank account, yet there was still one transaction on the account that occurred after Taylor’s arrest. The cell phone and debit cards were not found to be in his possession. As a matter of fact, one Sarah felt should be pointed out by Taylor’s attorney, the DNA evidence collected at the scene that pointed to Taylor was collected after the original investigator on the case conducted a thorough sweep of the residence, coming up with nothing. Questions again resounded in Sarah’s head. Did Detective Clark plant that evidence? Or had someone else planted it?      Frustration mounting, Sarah returned to her small, brightly painted kitchen and poured herself another cup of coffee. It was going to be a long Saturday, of that she was sure. It was only ten in the morning, and she already had the beginnings of a headache pulsating at her temples. Grabbing two heavy duty painkillers and her steaming mug of coffee, Sarah returned to her living room and pulled up the interrogation video on her laptop, plugging her ear buds back in so she could listen carefully.       The video showed Detective Clark and Officer Casteen leading Taylor into the room. They all sit down, and Clark gets right down to business. “Do you know why we brought you in here, Mr. Taylor?” Taylor replies that he does not. “We brought you in because we found your DNA in the home of the missing Jessica Hewitt. The same home where we found Jessica’s nineteen year old sister, Mary Lee Clark, murdered.” Taylor looked at the detective in shock and asked why his DNA was there. “Well, that’s what we would like to know.” Taylor stated that he had never been inside of Jessica Hewitt’s home and only knew her as a photographer who did his sister’s wedding. Clark begins his questioning, which appears to Sarah to be a bit leading. Leading questions often cause innocent people to incriminate themselves without understanding what is happening.      The officer sitting in on the interview keeps throwing Clark questioning glances, meaning that he’s picked up on the fact that the interview is not taking traditional methods or tactics. Clark asks if Josh had any relations with Jessica Hewitt whatsoever, and Taylor responds that he met her at his sister’s wedding and sent her a thank you letter to thank her for the very nice job she did on Lillian’s wedding. “So you knew where Hewitt lived then.” Clark says, not a question, but Taylor answers anyway. “Yeah, her address was listed on the card she gave Lillian. I paid for the wedding since our dad is passed and mom couldn’t afford the beautiful wedding she wanted so desperately to give Lillian. I paid Jessica and sent a thank you card, just like I did for the DJ, the caterer, and everyone else involved.” Clark asked if Taylor had ever personally gone to the residence, which Taylor stated he had not. Then he was asked if he ever held an attraction for Hewitt, or had any romantic notions or became romantically involved with Hewitt. Again, Taylor answered no. “I’m sorry sir. I feel bad that she’s missing, she seemed like a great woman, and very happy. I feel terrible about her sister, but I didn’t know either of them and never visited them. I wasn’t interested in Jessica in any way other than seeking her photography services. She’s married. She had on a ring and all, and I’m not going to break up a happy marriage even if I was interested in a woman. I wasn’t raised that way.”      “So that’s where that statement came from.” Sarah muttered aloud. The statement, “I feel terrible about her sister,” was taken out of context and used against Taylor as part of a fused together confession. The second interview, again, with the same officer, was not as smooth as the first. Sarah watched the second interview play out, even more carefully now that she had noticed the statement she failed to notice the first time she watched the interview. Of course, the first time she watched the interview, she was in a tiny room with the judge, Investigator Clark, and the attorney representing Taylor. That was the evidence hearing, when the Investigators on the case handed over all of the evidence to the prosecutor and defense attorney.     Its standard procedure to allow the defense attorney in any case access to the evidence against their client. However, in this case, Sarah sincerely hoped that Taylor’s attorney would use the discrepancies in evidence to Taylor’s advantage. The further in depth she got, the more Sarah believed Josh Taylor was set up. The second interview really seemed to confirm her theory. Detective Clark badgered Taylor relentlessly in this interview. “Emails between the sisters confirm you were involved with Hewitt on a more personal level, Taylor. What do you have to say to that?” Josh looks confused, as if he can’t believe what he was hearing. “I’ve never been involved with a married woman before, and I never would be sir. I don’t know why there would be any emails suggesting otherwise. I only spoke with the poor woman once! I never met her sister and I’ve never been to her home. I swear, sir, I haven’t even been romantically involved with anyone since my fiancée supposedly walked out on me two years ago!”     Clark picked up on the implications immediately and, from what it looked like to Sarah, twisted this unexpected turn in events to his advantage. “Oh, you mean Jenna Swift? The young woman who you claimed was missing?” Clark’s grin turns into a sneer, one that is not lost on Taylor, the officer present, or Sarah. “Yeah, turns out you were right. Just up and left one night without any personal affects, then we have you in here claiming someone must have taken her. Real clever, Taylor. Got away with it that time, didn’t you? You won’t get away with it this time though.” He sneered at the broken young man sitting in front of him. Taylor looked like someone had just run over a puppy in front of him. Lost, stricken. Sarah couldn’t explain the emotions playing across Josh Taylor’s face, but she could immediately tell that he didn’t have it in him to have done any of this. It seemed like God was trying to tell her by the look on the poor man’s face that he was truly innocent and it was her job to prove it.      Something in Clark’s statements and his demeanor had her on edge. It’s one thing to push a suspect to the breaking point, to attempt sympathy or to play hard ball, but Clark was doing something else altogether. He was taunting Taylor. Why? Did Clark have something to do with this? Sarah kept watching the video until the end. “Are you-are you saying I had something to do with Jenna’s disappearance? I loved her. I knew she would never take off on me like that. And I could never have been interested in Jessica Hewitt no matter how attractive she was. She had the one thing I had so desperately wanted and she was throwing it away. She was throwing away a happy marriage and I could never have that happy marriage with the one I loved!” He broke down sobbing.      Again, Sarah thought, more statements taken out of context. The last portion of the interview is what really caught Sarah’s attention. “So that’s where the purported confession came from.” She muttered angrily as she watched Taylor unintentionally cast himself in a role he never expected to play. “I’m sorry sir, you want me to say that I did it, to tie it all up in a neat little package for you, but I can’t. I didn’t do it. I would never do something like that. I can’t stand the images in my head of Mary that you showed me from her autopsy. I want to kill the bastard who did this, but I would never take an innocent life.” Sarah couldn’t believe it, she had just blew the entire confession to bits in seconds. Pulling up the typed up confession, Sarah reread everything she just heard in the interview tapes.     “I did it. I’m sorry about her sister. I can’t stand the images in my head of Mary. I want to kill, but I would never take an innocent life. I could never have been interested in Jessica Hewitt, no matter how attractive she was. She had the one thing I had so desperately wanted, and she was throwing it away. I could never have that happy marriage.” Sarah read and reread the signed confession, noticing for the first time that the signature didn’t seem to exactly match Taylor’s signature on other records she had. Neither did the officer’s. Yet Clark’s signature seemed exactly the same. A handwriting specialist would be able to further determine whether or not she was right.     Sarah looked at the clock above her television set. A little before noon. Making up her mind, Sarah reached for the phone and called first the number for Donald Nicholson, Josh Taylor’s attorney. Nicholson picked up on the third ring. “This is Assistant District Attorney Sarah Anderson. I need to speak with you and your client, preferably at his home as soon as possible.” Her urgent tone, underscored by her shaking hands, was met with a quick response from Nicholson. “You noticed it too. He is staying with his mother, I’ll send you the address. Meet me there in half an hour, I’ll save you the time and call him on my way over.” She hung up the phone and shoved her laptop, along with all her documents, into her laptop case, grabbed her cell phone, threw on a warm coat and walked to her car.      Outside, in the crisp October air, Sarah couldn’t help but keep looking over her shoulder. She had the unsettling feeling that someone was watching her. Pulling her coat tighter against the chilling wind, Sarah got in her car and immediately locked the doors, something she didn’t normally do. Taking a deep breath to calm her frayed nerves, Sarah turned the key in the ignition and backed out of her driveway. Her cell phone chimed, startling her, but it was only Nicholson sending her the address to Taylor’s mother’s house.      Taylor had been released on bail a week ago, and Sarah was thankful his sister was able to pay it because talking to him in the jail could be dangerous if what she suspected turned out to be true. There was a conspiracy afoot, and whether or not Detective Clark was the only one involved remained unseen, but Sarah couldn’t take any extra chances when the murderer was still on the loose and still a very dangerous threat.     She met Nicholson outside in Teresa Taylor’s driveway, and they walked to the door together. “You need to be careful Sarah, please. Take it from a seasoned attorney, whatever is going on here is dangerous. I don’t want you caught in the crosshairs for doing what’s right. Trust me, keep this meeting between just us four, and Monday morning you come in with a strong opening statement. I’ll contest it like expected. When the evidence is being presented, I’ll be bringing in several experts and eye witnesses that are going to shred the evidence to bits. But please, stay safe. Whoever is behind this is dangerous and has no problem disposing of anyone in his or her way.” “I think he or she already knows that I know something is wrong. When I left my house, I felt like someone was watching me.” She whispered.      Nicholson’s graying eyebrows drew together in concern and his grandfatherly, graying hazel eyes brightened in alarm. “Then your safety may be at risk Sarah. Please, be careful and call someone to stay with you. Please.” His concern made Sarah feel that her sudden paranoia was real. Maybe someone really was watching her this morning. With a sigh, Sarah reached out and rang the doorbell. The door was answered almost immediately by an older woman in her mid fifties with graying brown hair and sharp but kind eyes full of worry. “Mrs. Taylor, I’m Assistant District Attorney Sarah Anderson, and you already know Mr. Nicholson. We’re here to see Josh. May we come in please?” The woman looked sad, but she welcomed them warmly. “Yes, yes, come in out of the cold. Josh and I were just sitting down to lunch, would you care to join us?” When Sarah started to decline the offer, Nicholson spoke up and accepted for both of them, whispering that it would make everyone feel more comfortable like this was more of a friendly visit. Understanding immediately, Sarah nodded.     A friendly visit may help put the family at ease and make them more willing to speak with her rather than view her as the enemy. She would really need their help now that she truly believed Josh Taylor was wrongly accused and a completely innocent man just chosen by a sadistic killer to take the fall for the murder and missing victim.     Sarah entered the small, warm kitchen and sat at the little table. Looking around the room, she noticed the glass plated cabinets were freshly refinished, and the granite countertops looked like they had been shined recently. “He hasn’t wanted to leave the house since he was released, so he’s done some refinishing and other work to keep busy in the house.” She shrugged sadly. “I’m sorry ma’am. I can’t imagine what this must be like for all of you.” Sarah said quietly, looking down at her hands carefully folded in her lap. “No honey, don’t feel sorry for us. We’ll manage. Feel sorry for the parents of those poor girls. One is missing and feared dead while the other is only able to be visited in the cemetery. Their parents have it worse than anyone else right now, and if it weren’t considered taboo or a sign of a guilty conscience, I would go over and offer my condolences to them.” Teresa spoke with sadness lacing her kind words. “I don’t think it would be taboo, or the sign of a guilty conscience. Its kindness.” Sarah responded.     “Well, you would be the only one who thought that ma’am.” Josh Taylor said as he entered the room. Sarah turned to face him and her breath caught in her throat. She had seen Taylor in videos and pictures, but never in person before. He may have been handsome in the images, but in person he was absolutely gorgeous. The haunted look in his eyes was what really gripped Sarah’s heart. She cleared her throat and stood up to make her introductions. “Mr. Taylor, I’m Assistant District Attorney Sarah Anderson. Obviously, you already know Mr. Nicholson. We’re here to talk to you about a few things.” He smiled kindly at her. “Call me Josh, Miss Anderson. Have a seat and we’ll talk over lunch. My mom makes a wonderful homemade stew.”      After lunch was served and they all sat down to eat, Sarah got down to business. “Josh, I know this is no surprise to you, but it’s obvious that you did not commit the murder, or even have any part in it. I spent the better part of this morning going over the evidence once more in preparation for the trial and things just aren’t adding up. I can’t reconcile the emergency operator’s actions, nor can I reconcile the original reports with the findings of Detective Clark. Things just don’t add up where they should, and the evidence stacked against you is just too neatly packaged. Something is not right, and I’m not going to prosecute the wrong man. I need your help though.” Sarah was surprised when Josh instantly agreed to help her however he could. Most people would be distrusting of the one who is supposed to be prosecuting them. Though this was one case that she couldn’t even classify as close to normal.     “If you would, Mrs. Taylor, Josh, we need you to answer some very uncomfortable and very pointed questions while we record the conversation. This is going to help clear your name, but we need specifics okay?” Donald Nicholson pulled out the tape recorder and Sarah used video record on her laptop to back up Donald’s audio recording. As soon as the dishes were cleared from the table, Teresa and Josh Taylor sat on one side of the table as Donald and Sarah sat across from them, firing off questions. “Let’s start with Jenna. Can you tell us about her?”      Josh’s eyes filled with tears as he spoke of Jenna Swift. They had met in college. She was majoring in forensic pathology, and was full of life and love. They fell in love instantly, and became engaged. Jenna began her apprenticeship at the Medical Examiner’s office right here in Albany County. A few weeks into the apprenticeship, Jenna started to become paranoid. She had mentioned that someone was bothering her while she was working, and that she thought he was following her home. She filed police reports, but didn’t know the man’s name so nothing had ever been done. One night was really bad. The night before she inexplicably disappeared, Josh came home to find Jenna in a corner in the dark house. She was shaking and crying silently. He tried to get her to talk about it, but she said he would hurt Josh too if she told. He wanted to call 911 but she claimed she would be okay in the morning. She didn’t go to be that night, and she didn’t go to her apprenticeship the next day, claiming she felt sick. He kissed her goodbye when he left for work, like he always did. She clung to him for a few minutes, then let go of him and locked the door behind as he left. That was the last time he saw her.      “What happened when you came home?” Sarah asked. Josh looked haunted. “I unlocked the door, and it was dark, like the night before. I tried to flip on a light, but it didn’t come on, so I went to the breaker box and checked. Sure enough, the breaker had flipped, so I switched it back on and called out for Jenna. She didn’t answer, so I looked all over in the house. The back door was open, so I went out on the back deck to see if she was there. She wasn’t. I called mom, I called her family, and then I called the police. They wouldn’t report her missing for forty-eight hours. I spent hours looking for her. I went everywhere. I even went to the ME’s and the college. Nobody had seen her.”     Josh broke down, and his mother spoke up in turn. “Lillian and I had a time trying to keep Josh calm. He was frantic. I still call her mother every week to check and see, but at this point, Stella and I both fear the worst.” Sarah’s heart went out to them, but there were some circumstances surrounding Jenna’s disappearance that sounded eerily familiar to Jessica’s. “Okay, now tell me about Jessica Hewitt. How you met her, how she was acting at the wedding, and even about the thank you card.” Sarah said gently. Josh had met Jessica when he researched wedding photographers online. She was one of seven he had called to get a quote from, and she was the cheapest, so he hired her. They met at a public café so he could view some of her previous work and be sure she would be the best fit for his sister’s wedding. They spent fifteen minutes together, and that was it.      Jessica had spent more time with Lillian than anyone else, photographically documenting the preparations for the wedding as well as photographing the wedding. Her address was on the card she gave Lillian, so when he received the photos after the wedding, and saw how incredible they were, he immediately decided to send her a thoughtful thank you card and a check for another hundred dollars as a bonus for doing such a great job. That had been it. At the wedding reception he had spoken with her for a few minutes because she seemed shaken. He wasn’t sure why she had seemed shaken, but he went over to ask if she was okay.      “That’s when she told me that her husband had just sent her a text message saying they needed to talk, and she was sure he knew about the affair. I asked her why she ever had an affair if she loved her husband so much, and she claimed she didn’t really have much choice. I said I was sorry and that a man should never be allowed to force himself on a woman. She said she was sorry for putting it all on me, and thanked me for being kind. That was all she said.” Josh put his head in his hands, shaking. “I wish I had asked her who he was, or why she didn’t have a choice. There’s so many things I wish I had said to her. Maybe I could have helped her. Everything I should have said, could have said or done, keeps playing through my mind every single night. If I had done something, maybe she wouldn’t be missing. Maybe her sister would be alive and those awful photos wouldn’t give me nightmares every night. Maybe I could have stopped this, if only I had just tried.”      Sarah really felt conflicted now. She wanted so badly to tell Josh that nothing he could have said or done could have stopped this from happening, but what if it could have? “Okay, now, could you tell me about your first interview with Detective Clark?” Donald asked the question this time, and Josh explained that the officer present in the interview had knocked on his door early that morning, asking if he would please come in to the station. Then he described everything Sarah saw in the interview.      After two hours, the question Sarah was becoming increasingly interested in having answered was finally asked. “Did you sign a statement of confession? Or anything for Detective Clark?” Donald finally asked. Josh looked confused. “No, he never asked me to sign anything for him. Why?” He shook his head no as he spoke, looking at them both with confusion. His mother, however, had caught the undercurrent in their question and narrowed her eyes, expecting the worst. Sarah sighed, wishing she didn’t have to deliver this blow. “Josh, we have a signed confession that was fused together by statements you made in the two interrogations. It didn’t look like your signature, which is what really cinched it together for me. That signed confession is what actually led to your arrest. The DNA evidence wasn’t tested until you were taken into custody. Without that signed confession, there were no grounds to arrest you on.”      Shock, Sarah thought later as she drove home, that was the look on their faces. Knowing that Josh hadn’t committed the crimes ratcheted up the tension she was feeling. Who had set him up and why? Was it possible that there was a link between Jenna Swift’s disappearance and Jessica Hewitt’s? Was that link the unidentified stalker s***h lover? And was that person the same person who had murdered Jessica’s sister? Out of all the questions bouncing around in her head, the biggest one was what part did the emergency operator play in all of this? What was her part and why was she involved? Just how deeply was she involved?     With the questions still nagging at her, Sarah parked her car in front of her house, and started walking toward her front door distractedly when the elderly neighbor who lived next door shouted to her to come over for a minute. Changing direction, Sarah went over to see what Miss Martha wanted. “Come in out of the cold dear.” Martha said as Sarah approached the small, homey brick house. Once inside, Martha turned around and locked the door. “I’m afraid for you dear. Stay in here and warm up a while. Let’s just sit here and have a chat, shall we?” The elderly woman’s words sent chills racing straight down Sarah’s spine. She sat down on the old couch and watched as Miss Martha eased herself into a rocker by the fireplace.      “I don’t mean to be nosy, dear, but were you by any chance expecting a man to come by and wait for you inside your home?” The old woman’s pointed question sent even more chills racing up and down Sarah’s spine. “No, ma’am. May I ask why?” Miss Martha looked out her window, the one facing the front of Sarah’s house. “I was sitting here in my rocker watching the birds on my feeder when a shadow caught my eye. I looked closer and saw a man approaching your door. He knocked, waited, then unlocked the door and went in. I sat her watching, and he hasn’t come back out yet, at least he hasn’t left through the front door. I watched because I saw you leave earlier, and he stood there by the road watching you leave but never approached you. It seemed suspicious to me, but I didn’t know. I wanted to warn you though.” Miss Martha unknowingly confirmed Sarah’s earlier paranoia that someone had been watching her.      A thought suddenly popped into Sarah’s mind, worrying her even more. “Miss Marth, he didn’t see you did he?” She asked. The elderly woman pursed her lips and thought for a moment before shaking her head. “No, he was too busy watching you leave and then breaking into your home. He didn’t pay much attention to anyone around him. He seemed unconcerned with being seen, to be honest dear.” If he was unconcerned with being seen, then there was a good chance this man could provide a viable excuse for being there, Sarah thought. Was he a cop? An investigator? Or did he not care who saw him simply because he thought he could get rid of any possible witnesses?      Sarah knew she was going to have to go home at some point, or call in the police, but she wasn’t sure which officers could be trusted at this point, so she decided to call in some help. Pulling out her cell phone, she dialed Attorney Donald Nicholson, one of the few people she knew she could trust at the moment. “Excuse me a moment, Miss Martha. I just need to make a quick call and we’ll chat some more.” She smiled genially at the worried looking elderly woman before stepping out of the room, out of earshot.     “What’s wrong?” Skipping the typical good natured formalities he usually exchanges, Donald answered on the second ring, worry evident in his voice. “My neighbor alerted me to a man who entered my home after watching me leave. She said he hasn’t left yet, at least not through the front entrance, and seemed unconcerned with having any possible witnesses. She said she doesn’t think he saw her, but she isn’t sure. What should I do? I don’t know who to trust.” Sarah explained hurriedly. “Just a minute, Sarah. I’m going to find the phone number of a retired detective I know. I would like to have his help, but I would also like for him to stay close to you Sarah. If this person has figured out that you know something is off, then you’re in serious danger. Please.” Sighing, Sarah knew that for her own protection and peace of mind, she would have no choice. “Okay, thank you Donald, that would be great. What about Miss Martha Grady? What should I tell her?” Nicholson briefed her on how to deal with the potential danger to Martha Grady, placed the call to Detective Ray Corning on his landline, and then asked Sarah to meet the detective in a*****e parking lot in half an hour.      After hanging up, Sarah stepped back into the living room with Miss Martha to find the elderly lady standing at her window, wringing her wrinkled hands. “What’s the matter Miss Martha? Are you okay?” Sarah placed a gentle hand on the old woman’s frail shoulder and noticed that she was cold and shaking slightly. “Miss Martha?” Sarah gently turned the older woman to face her, and immediately pulled her into a hug. The woman’s eyes were round with worry and full of tears. “Miss Martha, I need to ask you to do something for me, and I need to to pay careful attention to what I say, okay?”      Sarah asked if her neighbor had anyone she could stay with for an indefinite period of time. When Martha decided on her daughter, Sarah made a decision to tell the poor lady the truth in hopes that it would help her understand and take the proper safety precautions. “The man inside my home is no welcomed guest, Miss Martha. I fear he has come to do me harm, and I know you have figured that out by now. This all stems from the murder case I’m working, and I’ve found that there is possibly something more to what happened than the investigation turned up. I need you to be very careful okay? Don’t answer the door for anyone, especially if they claim to be with the Albany County PD, until you call and check with dispatch. Call me right away if you notice anything wrong, and I promise you that I will have someone there to check it out, okay?” Martha agreed, and after packing a few things, she dropped Sarah off at her car and left for her daughter’s house. Chapter Two     Sarah waited for the retired detective in her car, with doors locked, at the local Price Chopper in downtown Albany. It would be a beautiful night to go to the theater and watch one of the plays the local college puts on, but unfortunately she had other things to worry about. Sighing, she checked her cell phone to find she still had another five minutes to wait. Instead of tuning in to her favorite radio station, Sarah found herself scanning the parking lot and looking at everyone with suspicion. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, she knew. Her job was to serve justice to the guilty parties and protect the innocent, but now every person she saw seemed guilty of something. If it hadn’t been for that 911 call, Sarah may not have even questioned the rest of the evidence. It all circled around to that call, she thought. There was something about that operator’s persistence to get young Mary into the house that really nagged at her. How could she prove it was intentional and not just poor training and pure idiocy that led the woman to coerce the girl into the house? Nodding her head, Sarah decided that she would go and see that woman first thing Sunday morning.      A rap at her window jolted Sarah out of her internal musings, scaring her half to death. She turned to look at the man knocking on her window, expecting there to be a weapon in his hand, or something equally as menacing. What she saw was an older man with a graying, military style crew cut and sharp, hazel eyes. He had a square cut jaw, and was wearing an old police windbreaker. In the palm of his hand he held his ID for her to see, just like Donald had said he would. “Miss Anderson? I’m Ray Corning, a friend of Donald Nicholson’s. He told me I could meet you here.” He said as she rolled down her aging car window.      “Yes, sorry. I was lost in thought and a little startled to see you. I didn’t see you coming.” She admitted sheepishly. Intelligence would be watching my surroundings and not going off to la-la land, she silently chastised herself. “When you’re ready, ma’am, I’ll follow you home. We’re going to pull up together and hopefully startle him out, if he hasn’t left already. Surprising him would do us more harm than good right at this moment seeing as we don’t yet know who or what we’re dealing with.” Sarah nodded her head and told him she was ready.     The short drive back to her home in the little neighborhood of Wynantskill was nerve wracking at best. Sarah kept looking in her rearview mirror to be sure Corning was following her, all the while fear raced through her veins at the thought of entering her now violated home with a stranger and possibly being attacked. She knew she could trust Donald and his judgement, after all, they were both on the same side now. It was just the thought of trusting anyone after what she was starting to uncover. How could she trust anyone when the men and women sworn to protect and serve were quite possibly the ones either committing the crime or harboring information about who really did commit the crime? It was even still possible that the investigation was thrown amuck by the killer himself, and the suspicion she was now casting on her fellow law enforcement officials was part of the plan. “Now stop it Sarah, that’s just crazy talk. It’s all just speculation at this point. No use in getting all worked up over speculation and paranoia.” She chastised herself aloud.     Pulling up into the driveway of her federal style brick home, Sarah began to shiver with fear. Fortunately, Ray Corning was at her side immediately. “Okay, we go to the door together, like old friends, then I enter first and secure the premises. If anything, and I do mean anything, happens, you get in your car and go. Call Donald and just go. Do you understand?” She nodded her head, not quite sure if she understood why leaving him was a good idea, but sure she would have to at the very least. They approached the door, talking genially about the chill in the air and how it would be snowing soon, and then he pulled out a pair of gloves. “Touch nothing.” He whispered, and she nodded, understanding immediately. He pointed to the lock, which had scratches in the gold plated surface, obviously indicating it had been picked. He reached for the door knob and turned. It opened without any resistance. It had never been relocked.      Fear suddenly zinged up her spine as she wondered if he was still inside. Ray stepped just inside the entryway and reached for the light switch and flicked it to the on position. Nothing happened. Her power had been shut off. Ray slipped further inside, indicating with one swift motion that Sarah needed to go back to her car. Turning on her heel and sprinting, she jumped back into her car, locking the doors immediately, and sitting there with the key poised over the ignition, ready to be shoved in at any sign of danger. She sat there like that for what seemed like hours. Finally, Ray reemerged from the doorway, and sprinted toward her car. Shaking, Sarah got out and was surprised when, instead of stopping to talk to her, Ray Corning shoved her to the ground with such a force it rattled her teeth. He was on top of her in an instant as loud gunshots rang out into the night. “Stay down. I’m going to my revolver from my glovebox. Don’t let him see you.” He whispered harshly before he got up and sprinted the few feet to his car. He opened the door just as more gunshots ripped through the air, shattering the peaceful night her neighbors were probably having.      Ray reappeared with a revolver in his hand and fired off one warning shot as he moved away from his car. Shots continued from inside the house, but they were poorly aimed this time, as if the shooter were retreating. Ray returned fire as he pushed forward. After a few moments, the sudden silence of the night became deafening and overwhelming. Sarah lay crouched beside her car, shivering in the cold, and stiff from remaining in the same position for so long. She was straining to hear something, anything. Finally, the sound of approaching footsteps could be heard. From their direction, she knew it had to be Ray. Sure enough, he appeared a few seconds later, offering her a hand to help her up. “Let’s get you inside. We don’t have long before the police will arrive, and I need to collect as much evidence as I can before they have a chance to tamper with it.”      She nodded her head and numbly followed him into her trashed, violated, and darkened home. Ray sat her on the couch and set to work. The lights came on within moments, and she watched, in a daze, as Ray began to meticulously collect evidence as quickly as he could. It was maybe ten minutes later that she heard the police sirens in the distance. As police cars pulled up and neighbors spilled from their homes, Ray quickly coached her on what to tell the police officers when they questioned her. As soon as the doorbell rang, Ray helped her to the door, playing the concerned friend just as he said.      Two officers she knew from the precinct stood there in her doorway, surprise evident on their faces as they took in the fact that it was her home they were responding to. “Sarah? Is everything alright? We got reports of shots fired. May we come in?” Sarah stepped aside and let the two men in, anxiety pounding through her veins. “Would you like to tell us what happened?” The younger officer, Officer Ben Carrols asked her. “I, yes. My home was broken into while I was out with a friend and when we arrived back here, we went to walk in and suddenly gun shots were exploding from inside. We ran back to the car and hid. When everything stopped, Ray went in to be sure the robber was gone and then came to get me.” She explained, still shaking with fear and shock over what had happened.     “Why didn’t you call 911?” The older man, Officer Gary Lemmon, asked as he looked her over suspiciously. “I-I was scared. I dropped my purse and cell phone at the door when we ran, and I didn’t want to go back for it. Gary helped me to the couch where I collapsed. I’m so scared!” She started crying, doing her best to look like she had no clue what was going on or why this was happening to her. Lemmon looked as if he didn’t believe her one bit, but Ben’s look of sympathy and his newness to the force spared him of her suspicions. “Do you have anywhere you could go stay tonight while we investigate?” Ben asked her kindly. Sarah said she did, asked to grab a few things while she checked to see if anything was missing, and then left with Ray.      She followed Ray to a convenience store down the road where they got coffee and a cheese Danish. They stood between their cars, sipping their coffees in silence for a few moments before Sarah spoke up. “I want to talk with that 911 operator. She knows more than she’s telling, and I have a feeling she’s involved somehow.” Ray nodded. “I’ll go with you obviously, but I would also like to have a talk with Josh Taylor and his sister Lillian. I would like to know more about Jenna Swift. She may very well be the first victim, that we know about anyway. Let’s get a motel for the night and we’ll start with your 911 operator first thing in the morning.” Sarah nodded her assent and led the way to the nice little family owned motel just outside of Albany.      After checking in at the front desk, Sarah and Ray retired to their own respective rooms for the night. Sarah swiped her key card and stepped into the little comfortable country styled room. The bed was fluffy and topped with a checkered red and white comforter. A stack of soft pillows laid neatly on top of the comforter. The walls were a nice cream color, and there was a small flat screen television mounted on the wall in front of the bed. Sarah plopped down onto the bed and pulled out her laptop. One thing about this cute country motel, it was equipped with free wireless internet, unlike the other motel in the area. Sighing, Sarah flipped open her laptop and began her search for the emergency operator’s home address. It was included her personnel file, but Sarah didn’t feel like logging in to the database to find it. That search would be traceable and could lend more trouble than it was worth. In her copy of the initial police report was the operator’s address. She had to be included, although she had been left out of the investigative report. Sarah found the woman’s home address and her telephone number, wrote them down, and then decided to do an online search for anything related to Jenna Swift.     Surprisingly, the search yielded a ton of results, and Sarah opened a new document on her computer so she could take notes. Jenna Swift had been short, petite, and blonde. Her eyes were a soft blue, and she had a scar just above her ankle bone where pins were inserted after a sport injury. She was last seen two years prior, but it was the date of her disappearance that sent chills through Sarah. September the second. The same day Mary Lee Clark was murdered. The same day Jessica Hewitt went missing. Coincidence? Sarah asked herself. No, not at all, she thought. She kept reading about the young woman whose disappearance yielded no search, no full report, and no sign of the woman in question. Why?      The ME who Jenna had worked under during her apprenticeship was now retired, but Sarah found his address and phone number easily. She wrote both down and then, on a spur of the moment decision, decided to search for any other workers in the ME’s office around the same time as Jenna’s apprenticeship. There were only a few others who had worked in the office at that time that no longer worked there now. Sarah wrote them down as well. Then, deciding she would like to speak with him personally, Sarah looked for Jessica’s ex-husband’s address. Maybe he would be of some assistance. By the time she had finished her research, it was nearing midnight and she knew she needed some rest before they went to visit emergency operator Corrine South, so she packed her laptop back up and shut off the lights.     Sarah woke at six in the morning and showered, putting on a fresh pair of jeans, a beige camisole, and a white cotton sweater. She put on her black, suede boots and threw on her coat, letting her long brown hair fall loosely down her back. Grabbing her laptop case, she left her motel room and went to grab some breakfast from a local fast food joint before knocking at Ray’s door. When she got back with her bag of sausage, egg, and cheese muffins and coffee, she knocked at Ray’s door. He opened the door with a grim look on his face, and gestured Sarah in, looking out around the parking lot before shutting and locking the door.      Sarah sat at the little table in the corner of the room pulling out her own breakfast and fixing her coffee the way she liked it. She set Ray’s food aside and waited as he sat down heavily on his bed. “What happened?” She asked as she bit into a warm and gooey sausage muffin. He sighed heavily and shook his head. When he looked at her, his eyes were heavy with sorrow. “Donald had a bad accident late last night and they don’t expect him to recover.” The sausage stuck in her throat, and the sandwich didn’t taste very good all of a sudden. It felt like cardboard and glue in her mouth. The world began to tilt on its axis as she swayed slightly, grabbing hold of the table to steady herself. “What happened?” She asked as she swallowed the gooey glue and cardboard mixture.     “They’re calling it an accident right now. His car was found in a ditch, upside down. They say he fell asleep at the wheel, but if you ask me, I think they know better. He was run off the road. What I can’t figure out is why he was on that road so late at night.” Ray’s voice was full of emotion that he tried hard to keep off of his face. He really cared a lot for his friend, this much was obvious. Ray turned the new channel he was watching off of mute as they continued the story of ‘Prominent Defense Attorney Donald Nicholson’s Wreck.’ Sarah watched as the news reporter stood on the side of the road where skid marks were clearly visible, and where a tow truck was still working to pull the warped hunk of torn metal that was Donald’s car from the ditch.      “Officials are saying Defense Attorney Donald Nicholson fell asleep at the wheel of his car around three this morning and veered off the road, only coming to at the last second to try and stop the vehicle. There’s no word on his condition yet as surgeons fight to save his life.” The woman droned on and on about the dangers of driving while drowsy while Sarah watched as the crew operating the tow truck finally managed to pull the wrecked luxury car from the ditch. The twisted metal shell of the car broke Sarah’s heart. She suspected the same thing Ray did. This was no accident. So why were the police saying it was? Wasn’t there evidence to show that this was no accident? Or was someone on the inside truly involved? Sarah’s mind began to spin with all of the questions she couldn’t seem to answer.      “What hospital is he at? Can we go find out how he is doing?” She blurted out, hoping against all reason that maybe he would be in recovery by the time they arrived. “Saint Peter’s, and it would do him no good if we went and sat around the hospital waiting for news of his condition. His wife said she would call as soon as more information was available anyway. We need to figure this out and fast if we hope to spare others the same fate. Especially considering you were under attack just last night. Where does this emergency operator live? It’s time we pay her a visit.” Sarah could tell Ray was having a hard time with not going to be by his friend’s side, but he was right. The sooner they got to the bottom of what was going on, the better off everyone would be.      Sarah climbed into her car, Ray in the passenger seat, and plugged the address of Corrine South into her GPS. While waiting for the little computer to load the most direct route, Sarah looked out through the parking lot. The day was cloudy and gray, almost as depressing as her mood had suddenly become. The parking lot was nearly empty, the only other cars in the lot being a beat up old Toyota, a little red sedan, and a green Saturn. All of the other rooms either held occupants without cars, or were completely vacant. Sighing, Sarah looked back at her GPS and turned the volume on. Pulling out of the motel parking lot, Sarah turned left toward Downtown Albany.      They rode along in companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts, when Sarah’s GPS suddenly interrupted and said they had arrived at their destination. “It’s, um, not what I expected exactly.” Sarah said uncomfortably as she slowed to a stop and parked alongside the curb. “Little in this case will be, Sarah.” He replied grimly, reaching for the door handle. “I’m beginning to realize that, unfortunately.” Sarah replied, reaching for her own door handle. Stepping out into the cold, Sarah grabbed a tape recorder and slipped it into her pocket after switching it on. She locked her car doors, set the automatic alarm, and turned to follow Ray up the steep steps to the abandoned looking old house.     Even the house gives me the creeps, Sarah thought to herself. The large, old house held a sanitarium like quality to it. It was gray stone, gray wood, gray everything. The house seemed to emanate an aura of despair, neglect, suffering, and horror. It looked to Sarah like one of those houses you see in horror movies where they stick the crazy people. Sarah couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched, and when she looked up, she saw the second story window curtain flutter as if someone had dropped it back into place. Guess we are being watched, Sarah thought to herself as she reached the top of the cracked stone stairs. Ray was ringing the doorbell when she stepped up beside him.      A few seconds passed with nothing but silence permeating the air. For being in the downtown area of the city, Sarah would have at least expected some noise from traffic or something, but not even the wind stirred. She was starting to get really freaked out when the door opened a crack and an old, tired face peeked out. “May I help you?” The craggy old woman asked, not unfriendly but not seeming particularly happy to have visitors either. “Yes, we’re here to speak with Corrine South. It’s very important.” Sarah managed to sound professional despite the fear coursing through her at that moment. The old woman started to shut the door on them and Ray shoved his boot in the crack. “She’s not here.” The old woman hissed at him. Coolly reserved, he did not remove his foot from the door as he spoke. “You’re lying. Hampering a police investigation is a felony offense, punishable by up to seven years in prison.” He said coldly. The old woman stepped back from the door, allowing them entrance. “Have it your way, but don’t say you weren’t warned.” The small old woman hissed at them as they entered the creepy old house.     “This way.” She gestured with a crooked finger for them to follow her down the dark hall. She led them to a door with a ‘keep out’ sign duct taped on the scratched outer wood. She opened the door for them and turned to walk away. “I don’t like this.” Sarah whispered. Ray glanced at her and whispered back that he didn’t either, but as off as this place was, it was the best place to begin. They walked into the room, and found Corrine sitting in the center of her bed with a laptop open in her lap. She looked disheveled, like she had been roughly beaten recently. “Corrine?” Sarah asked softly. The young woman looked up at the over her laptop and immediately pulled her long, stringy hair over her face in a curtain but not before Sarah saw the black eye and large bruise on her cheek. “What do you want, Sarah?” she asked miserably, her speech slightly slurred by the stitches in the corner of her mouth.      Struck by the way the woman looked, Sarah didn’t even pause to wonder how the young woman knew her first name. Most operators weren’t on a first name basis with assistant district attorneys. “Are you okay?” Sarah, her kind nature taking over immediately, sat down on the foot of the bed near the woman and looked at her somberly. “What’s it look like to you?” Corrine asked haughtily. “It looks like you’ve taken a pretty bad beating. What happened?” Taking the gentle approach may not usually work in her line of work, but Sarah realized that in this case, the twenty year old woman in front of her would respond better to kindness.     “I was lucky. I survived it. What do you want?” She asked again. “I know you’re involved in this somehow, Corrine. Maybe you didn’t want to be, but you are. I need your help, please.” Corrine moved her hair aside, revealing the bruises around her neck and the uncovered stitches in one nostril and down one ear. They looked like they were getting infected. Her green eyes were glassy, filled to the brim with unshed tears. She looked straight ahead. “I can’t help you, Sarah. I’ll end up like them. I was lucky. He thought I was dead. I wanted to be, but it didn’t happen. I wish I could tell you, but I can’t.” Tears rolled down her cheeks, but Corrine made no move to wipe them away, and Sarah saw why. One arm was badly bruised, the other was sewed from wrist to elbow with stitches and had multiple second degree burns that looked like they were from the head of a cigarette. Sarah bit back a cry of sympathy for this girl, remembering that she was involved in the murder of another young woman.      “Tell me, Corrine. What was it you had to do? Please, tell me that much.” Corrine kept staring straight ahead like she hadn’t heard what Sarah said. Then she suddenly spoke, and what she had to say was nothing like what Sarah had expected. “He told me, he told me she would call. I had to ignore all other incoming calls between eight fifty and nine so I could answer her call. When she called, I was supposed to get her in the house. If I didn’t get her in the house, I was going to have trouble that night and he would find someone else. I didn’t know what he wanted with her. I didn’t know what he planned to do, I just knew she had to go upstairs to her sister’s bedroom. When she screamed, I froze. I was so scared. I heard everything he did to her! I knew then that it was all my fault! She was so scared, she didn’t want to go in there, and I made her! I killed her! When he picked up her phone, it was the signal to send the police. I dispatched the police, but from everything I heard, I knew she wouldn’t need the ambulance. They couldn’t help her. They shouldn’t have helped me when those kids found me. I deserved everything he did to me, and I deserved to die! I wanted to! He’s going to come back for me when he realizes that I lived. This time will be worse. I know it.”      The tears flowed down the girl’s cheeks, and despite how she wanted to feel, Sarah felt sympathetic toward Corrine. She may not have known Mary would be murdered, but she did know one vital piece of information that Sarah didn’t intend to let her die over. Coming to a decision, Sarah reached out and put her hand over the girl’s bruised one. “Corrine, you said you can’t tell me who he is, but can you at least tell me something? He tried to attack me in my home last night, and he seriously injured a good friend of mine. I need to know, does he work in law enforcement? Is that how you met him?” Corrine’s eyes went wide with terror. “How did you know?” The girl gasped.      That was when Sarah knew for sure. Nobody in the precinct could be trusted now. “How was I supposed to know he would turn out to be so evil?!!” The girl cried. “He seemed so trustworthy! He seemed like such a great guy at first! I mean the persistence was a little daunting at first, but seriously, what woman doesn’t want a man to pursue her? It felt good to have someone want me like that! Then I found out what he really was after Mary, and he-he tried to do the same to me!” She broke down into wracking sobs. “Corrine, was it Detective Clark? Is that who hurt you?” Sarah asked quietly. Corrine looked up at her through her sobs. “Clark? No. Clark only cares about being the best in the public eye and would do anything to get there. He wants glory, but he wouldn’t commit murder to get it. I-I can’t tell you who he is, please don’t make me. He’s crazy. He’ll find out and he’ll hurt my grandma. She’s all I have left! He took my mom away and made it look like an accident. Please, I can’t lose my grandma too!” The girl sobbed even harder.     Ray, who had been silently watching from a corner of the room asked Sarah to speak with him in the hall for a moment. As soon as she stepped into the hall, she could tell something was wrong. “What is it? Is it Donald?” Ray shook his head, a grim look had settled over his features. “If he’s a member of law enforcement, then this will be even harder than it already has been. By protocol, we should set up protection for her and her grandmother. Since that is obviously not an option at this point, we need to get them someplace safe. I have a friend up in Saratoga Springs that would take them in and be able to offer protection. You need to convince her to go while I make the call. Sarah nodded her head in agreement and went back in the room where Corrine sat, still crying.     “Corrine, I need you to do me a favor. I want to protect your grandmother. I want to protect you as well, but I can’t do it here. I don’t know who he is, and I can’t protect either of you here because of that.” Corrine interrupted, crying that she didn’t deserve protection, but Sarah insisted that it wasn’t her fault and that it would keep her grandmother safe. Finally, Corrine gave in and packed a few things, choosing to leave her laptop and cell phone behind after Sarah told her how they can be used as tracking devices. Convincing Abigail to leave was a whole lot harder. Finally, Corrine told her the truth about what had happened to her, and to her mom. Abigail broke down in tears, and finally agreed to leave as well.     Sarah loaded the two into the back seat of her car and, with Ray giving her the directions, drove the two women to a large mall in Saratoga, where they were to meet the couple who would be taking them in and protecting them. Sarah and Ray waited in the car, watching as the two women walked toward the entrance. A man and woman got out of a vehicle parked several spaces down, and began to follow the women. Sarah looked at Ray nervously. “That’s them. We want to make sure they get inside safely. We’re going in about five minutes after Dean texts me that they have left through another entrance. Once we are inside, they will take the two women in their car and leave. We’re going to stay inside the mall for a few more minutes after they have left to ensure if anyone is following us, they won’t notice the exchange immediately. We’ll leave after Dean texts me that they’re safe and have no tail.”      The plan seemed so easy, but Sarah knew it was strategic and would give the women their chance at escape. Sarah stared at the entrance to the mall, looking for any sign of a familiar face or anyone lurking where they shouldn’t be. She saw nothing. As soon as Ray received the text, they walked into the mall together, acting as if they were looking for the two women. Sarah was surprised by the large carousel in the center of the food court where they had entered. She had never seen a full size carousel inside of a mall before. It almost brightened her gloomy day. Almost.      They walked around the mall in silence, pretending to look for the women. Sarah wondered if a day would ever come where Corrine could go back and enjoy going to a mall again. Thoughts of all that Mary would never get to do also ran through her head, bringing something Corrine had said back to the surface, something Sarah had dismissed at first. She had said, ‘like the others.’ Ray was right, there were more victims, one of them possibly being Jenna Swift, the missing fiancée of their accused murderer. As soon as they left the mall and returned her car, Sarah brought up the topic of ‘the others.’ They discussed the possibility of Jenna Swift being one of his victims, and the unlikelihood of finding Jessica Hewitt alive. Something nagged at the back of Sarah’s mind, a question she couldn’t quite bring to the surface.     While they were driving back toward Albany, Ray’s cell phone rang. He took the call, and Sarah pulled into a fast food restaurant to get them some lunch and afford him some privacy as he spoke. When she returned with their food, Ray was standing outside the car, leaning against the door with relief evident in the look on his face. Good news seemed to be in short supply these days, so Sarah jumped on it immediately. “What’s going on?” Ray looked at her, tears in his eyes, but not tears of sorrow this time. “Dianna Nicholson just called. Donald’s likely going to pull through. In a very unprecedented fashion, it seems your murder suspect and Donald’s client saw the news and rushed over to the hospital to help. He found that Donald needed a kidney transplant and some liver tissue as well, and he offered to be the donor. He was surprisingly a positive match, and the doctors performed the surgery immediately even though it usually takes some time to know for sure Donald’s body won’t reject the organs. He is in recovery in the intensive care unit, but not out of the danger zone yet. His body may yet reject the donated organs, but Josh Taylor may have just saved Donald’s life.”      Smiling through her tears, Sarah couldn’t help but feel relief, even knowing that Donald still may not pull through. “What do we do now? Should we go to the hospital and see them?” Sarah asked hopefully, but Ray shook his head. “We need to find out more about Jenna Swift and Jessica Hewitt. Aside from the common physical features they all shared, we need to find out what made them so appealing to him. If we can connect the dots there, then we’re one step closer to identifying him.” He explained. He also told her that, aside from the scratches left when the man picked the lock, there was no other evidence he could gather from her house. The man had made sure to leave no evidence behind.     After eating their burgers and fries, finishing their sodas, and ordering coffees and danishes from a small coffee shop they found, Ray discussed the people who he was interested in talking to, and Sarah added to the list. The retired medical examiner was first on their list. Jessica’s ex-husband was next, and the list went on from there. Several people who worked at the ME’s office during Jenna Swift’s apprenticeship who had moved on to other jobs were on that list as well. Getting back into Sarah’s silver Toyota, Ray programmed the address in for the ME, and Sarah waited while the little machine loaded the most direct route.      The sky overhead was still a murky gray, looking as if it wanted to start spewing snow at them at any moment, but fortunately the weather was on their side for the moment. Snow would only slow them down. As soon as the GPS pinged it had the route, Sarah pulled out of the coffee shop parking lot and headed toward the ME’s home in Latham.      The drive down the highway was uneventful. Not many cars on the long, lonely stretch. Sarah’s cell phone stayed eerily quiet, and she was surprised considering someone was supposed to notify her on the status of the so-called break in at her home. After thinking about it as she drove, Sarah finally broached the subject with Ray, who sat solemnly in the passenger seat. He thought for a moment, face darkening as he came to his conclusion. “They either haven’t cleared the scene, which is unlikely at best, or they found something that was quite possibly manufactured to make someone else, namely Taylor, look even more guilty.” Sarah didn’t like either option much, but she was hoping for it being that they were busy and hadn’t entirely cleared the scene at her home yet. Although that was an unlikely scenario, Sarah was still going to hope for the best.  Chapter Three     They arrived at the residence of the retired medical examiner, Michael Crowley, at roughly two in the afternoon. Ray had said it was best not to call in advance in case the old man had any involvement, however unlikely it was that he did, so they dropped by unannounced. Sarah parked behind an older model gray jaguar and walked up the flagstone steps. Michael Crowley lived in a large cobbled stone, tudor style home with an immaculate lawn and large garage. Sarah had to stop and wonder what he must have in the garage if he leaves his jaguar parked outside. Shaking her head slightly and pulling her coat closer to fend off the wind, Sarah followed Ray to the door and rang the doorbell. “Somehow, I get the feeling he did more than just examine the dead.” Sarah muttered as they waited. Ray glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, and whispered, “Don’t judge a book by its cover, but I’m right with you there. It does seem that way.”      The frosted glass door opened to reveal an older woman in her mid fifties trailed by a little black scotish terrier. “May I help you?” The woman asked, smiling warmly at them. “Yes, ma’am, we’re here to see Mr. Michael Crowley. Is he available?” Ray asked kindly. Looking over her shoulder at the toddler who was running toward her, the woman asked them to come in. “If you’ll wait just a minute in the living room, I’ll go fetch him.” She said to them as she quickly scooped the toddler up into her arms and disappeared up the stairs.      As soon as she was out of sight, Ray began looking around the richly decorated room, pausing to look at the framed photographs lining the walls and the mantel above the fireplace. Sarah shifted uncomfortably on her feet, unsure of what to do while they waited. She had never investigated a case herself before, and was trained in the legal side of law enforcement, not the investigative side. She had only ever presented cases in the courtroom before, winning most if not all of them. She had not ever witnessed or been a part of an investigation first hand, so she felt lost as Ray moved swiftly and silently about the room studying the man they were both about to meet for the first time.     “Sarah, come here a minute.” He whispered quietly, gesturing her over. “Look at this photo and tell me if you see what I’m seeing.” He spoke quietly so nobody would overhear them. Sarah moved closer to the fireplace mantel and looked at the photograph in question. In the photograph stood a young couple dressed nicely, possibly for a prom or some other high school event. At first glance, nothing seemed wrong with the photo, but then Sarah realized who she was looking at in the picture. “That’s officer Ben Carrols and Lillian Taylor!” Sarah gasped. Ray nodded. “I wouldn’t have noticed the officer in the photo had I not just met him last night. However, Lillian I would have recognized regardless.” He whispered back to her. “I don’t understand. Why would Michael Crowley have a framed photograph of Ben Carrols and Lillian Taylor on his mantel?” She asked softly. “That’s something we are going to find out soon enough.” Ray said as he moved back toward the overstuffed couch and sat down, pointing one finger at the upstairs to signal that they must be on their way down. Sarah took a seat next to him on the large sofa and prepared herself for whatever would come next.      Michael Crowley looked younger than Sarah had expected. He may have retired only the year before, but Sarah had expected an elderly man with a cane and head full of gray hair. Instead, she found herself looking at a man in his late fifties with dark brown hair sprinkled here and there with graying strands. He was tall and thin, with an air of professionalism you would expect in your family practitioner not a retired ME. He had a firm handshake when introductions were finally made. Sarah sat back and let Ray take the lead on this one. She had no idea how to start questioning this man without raising his hackles and completely botching the entire interview.      Ray exchanged a few pleasantries before getting right down to business. “Mr. Crowley, I was wondering if you remember a young woman who worked under you for an apprenticeship about two years ago. Her name is Jenna Swift, and she was studying forensic science at Sienna College in Albany.” Crowley tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes as he thought back. Suddenly, his head snapped back up and his eyes widened. “Yes, but she didn’t like to go by that name in the office. She went by Jennifer Taylor in the office, her professional title is what she called it.” He smiled as he recalled the quirky, life loving young woman.      Crowley described the young woman’s admirable work ethic and overall passion for her work with the fondness of a proud mentor. “What about in the weeks before her disappearance?” Ray asked. This time, Crowley painted a completely different picture. “She became distracted. She started slacking on her work and would start crying out of the blue while in the middle of working. At first, I figured that maybe the nature of the work was getting to her, especially after we had a particularly difficult body the previous week. Actually, that body was eerily similar in physical characteristic to Jennifer. I figured that was what had her so upset. I asked her about what was wrong, but she just shrugged it off and claimed it was worry over her finals. I tried to reassure her and mentor her, but from that point on she kept to herself. She no longer left the office for her lunch break, and she would wait until one of my staff or myself left the building before she would leave. That’s when I figured that she must be being bothered by someone, but I could never figure out who, and she wouldn’t talk about it. Then she disappeared, and I feared that something terrible had happened. Her fiancée even came to talk to me and I told him I, too, thought someone had been bothering her.”      Crowley’s disturbing recollection of Jenna Swift’s last few weeks sent chills racing up and down Sarah’s spine. All of the victims had been stalked by this man prior to their disappearance, and all were upset by it. His attention wasn’t wanted, but he pursued them anyway. Sarah’s inner musings were interrupted when Ray asked about the body they had worked on before Jenna’s upset. “Oh yes, I remember that one well. Young woman in her early twenties, blond hair, blue eyes. Brutally sexually assaulted, beaten, broken back, stabbed numerous times, but the actual cause of death was strangulation. It was a severe case of overkill, that’s for sure. Homicide, apparently committed by the husband, though I couldn’t believe that one.” Something about the way the retired ME said he couldn’t believe it was the husband struck a chord in Sarah. Perhaps this woman was another of their mysterious murderer’s victims. Sarah mentally filed the woman’s name in her mind, determined to find out more about her to see if there was a link there somewhere.      The conversation continued and, finally, toward the end of their interview, Ray asked about the officer. “Do you know an Officer by the name of Ben Carrols?” Crowley looked stunned for a moment. “Why yes, I ought to. He is, after all, my son.” At Ray’s inquisitive look, the man continued. “Benjamin is our son, but he goes by my wife’s last name. When you choose a life in law enforcement, no matter how low on the chain you may be, it is wiser to keep your family out of the possible line of fire, so to speak. As a new father and new medical examiner, I worried that I may one day find myself the target of some sadist. I may be the one who finds the only evidence linking him to the body, and I didn’t want harm to come to my family if that ever happened. That’s why Ben has Leena’s family name, and why she has retained her family as well. Ben followed suit when his son was born, giving Bradley the mother’s family name, regardless that it may have been the worst decision the kid ever made.”      The mother? Sarah knew that Ben wasn’t married, but she thought he may have had a domestic partner. Did Crowley dislike the child’s mother so much that he refused to associate the child with her? Why? Sarah’s inner questions were soon answered when Ray asked his next question. “How well do you know Lillian Taylor?” Crowley’s eyes narrowed with dislike almost instantly as soon as her name was mentioned, but it was his wife, Leena, who spoke this time. The gentle mannered woman who had sat quietly by her husband’s side moments ago had eyes that were suddenly snapping with anger.      “Lillian Taylor was Benjamin’s fiancée until she just walked out on him one day, four years ago, just after giving birth to Bradley. She left Bradley in his crib, alone in an empty house, and just walked away. When Ben went to find her, she asked that he stay away. She claimed she didn’t love him and had not wanted to be a mother, then she told him she had found someone else and was going to marry him instead. She broke my son’s heart and left their child motherless. I have no pity for her, nor do I ever want to see her again. Why would you even ask about her?” Leena demanded. Ray, calm and composed despite the woman’s obvious aggression, responded smoothly, “Lillian Taylor is a person of interest in an ongoing case. I noticed her in a photograph on your mantel while I was waiting for you. I met your son last night after Miss Anderson’s home was burglarized, and I was wondering what Lillian Taylor had to do with the kind officer ma’am. No harm intended.”      Ray’s explanation seemed to soothe the angry woman and give her pause. After considering his explanation, she asked what sort of trouble Lillian was in, earning herself an immediate reproach from her husband. “Dear, you know that an open case can’t be discussed with civilians. Ben and I have told you that before, I’m sure.” Leena looked at the cute, sleeping little boy in her lap and smiled down at him. “Whatever it is, I hope that she didn’t do anything too awful, for Brady’s sake. I wish he could know his mother, and it kills Ben that this sweet little guy can’t. It breaks my heart that he has nobody to call ‘mommy,’ but maybe its all for the best.” She sighed as she got up and excused herself from the room, wiping a stray tear as she went.     “You’ll have to excuse my wife. She’s got a heart of gold and it hurts us both deeply to see Ben and Bradley hurt by someone who promised to love them both with her whole heart. Even I believed her.” Michael Crowley sighed and shook his head sadly. Ray chose that moment to thank the Crowley’s for their time and to make their exit. Sarah gave the man a sympathetic smile and shook his hand, thanking him again for his time before following Ray out the door.      As soon as they were in the car, Ray turned to her and said almost exactly what she was thinking herself. “I don’t like this. Lillian Taylor seems to be in the center of everything. I’m wondering how involved in this thing she really is.” Sarah couldn’t help but wonder the same thing. “Next stop, Jessica Hewitt’s ex.” Sarah said sullenly as she headed for Colonie.  Chapter Four     Jessica Hewitt’s ex-husband, Zach Hewitt, lived in a small one bedroom apartment on the second floor of a shabby looking, green house-turned-apartment building. When they knocked on his door, Zach answered looking bleary eyed and utterly unkempt. Sarah almost had to take a step back as the scent of his unwashed body permeated the air around her, stinging her nose. The formerly handsome, successful businessman had taken a nosedive into heartbreak and despair. Sarah couldn’t help but feel sorry for the man standing in front of her with his shaggy brown hair sticking out in all directions and bloodshot eyes swelled from crying rather than alcohol. At least he hadn’t sought help in the bottom of a bottle like so many other men she had seen do.      “Zach Hewitt?” Sarah asked, and he nodded. “I’m Assistant District Attorney Sarah Anderson, and this is Detective Ray Corning. We would like to speak with you about Jessica. May we come in?” Again, he nodded and moved out of the doorway, gesturing with his arm for them to enter. Taking a deep breath, Sarah entered the small apartment. Its interior was in almost the same shape as its occupant. Disarray was much to kind a word for the utter disaster inside the home. Clothes were on the floor, untouched food wasted away on the table, and an ashtray on the coffee table spilled over with spent cigarette butts. Sarah sighed and moved to sit on the dilapidated couch that sunk down in the middle. Ray sat next to her, and Zach followed them into the room, turning the television set off and slumping into an arm chair.      “Mr. Hewitt?” “Call me Zach.” He said sadly. “Okay, Zach. I’m coming to see you today because I want to find Jessica, but I there’s more to the story than what I have. I need you to tell me everything you can okay?” Sarah approached the young man with a more soothing tone rather than going straight to the point and hurting the poor man even more in the process. Zach nodded and sat with his elbows resting on his knees and head in his hands, waiting. She wasn’t sure where to start, so she followed the example Ray had set with Michael Crowley. “Zach, can you tell me what Jessica was like?”      Zach’s eyes filled with tears as he recalled how Jessica was in love with life itself. She had loved nature and became a photographer, working first in nature photography which didn’t pay well, and later on changing to event photography. She was happy and always had a quick smile for everyone she met. Her younger sister was her best friend, and she loved animals. After their engagement, Zach had taken her out and they chose a puppy to adopt together. They call Barley their daughter. Barley was a Yorkshire terrier that loved to go for walks, and Jessica would take her to the park every day for a jog.     Zach’s recollection of Jessica brought her to life in a way Sarah had never thought of her. Sarah had only thought of her, up to this point, as a missing woman. Now she was beginning to see the woman behind the missing person flyer, and the life that woman had left behind. “She sounds like a wonderful woman. I know this part is going to hurt, but could you tell me about how Jessica behaved before you filed for a divorce?” Zach’s eyes spilled over with tears as he recalled the way she had been acting.     “She had been acting strange, like something was bothering her, but she always said it was nothing. She began crying a lot, and then one day, when I came home, I found the door locked and the alarm on. She never locked up or turned on the alarm while she was home, so I figured maybe she was out somewhere with Mary. The lights were all off when I went in. I turned on the kitchen light as I shut off the alarm, turned around, and there she was. Jess was just sitting there with a mug of cold coffee in her hand, staring out the window and crying. She was in a bathrobe, her hands were like ice, the coffee had long since gone cold, and she was bleeding. I wrapped my arms around her and she just broke down sobbing and clinging to me.”      Zach had to clear his throat and wipe his eyes several times before he could continue. “I saw the blood on the robe, and she said it must be her period, but then I saw her when she got into the bath tub. I saw the bruises. I knew. I tried to talk to her about it, but she screamed at me and told me to forget about it. She shut down when I said I wanted to call the cops about it, so I never reported her being r***d, and she never did either. Then, two weeks later, I was at work when I got a phone call from a woman who said my wife was sleeping with her husband and it needed to stop. I called her a liar, but she broke down crying and begged me to stop it before something bad happened. I went home that night and text Jess that we needed to talk. We talked all right, and I left. She said she couldn’t stop and that I would never understand. She begged me not to leave, but if she couldn’t stop having an affair then why would I stay? So I left. Then, the day before she disappeared, she called me. She said she had found a way to end the affair and begged me to come home. I said I would if she really ended the affair. She sounded happier than she had in months, and I felt like maybe I was getting my wife back. Then she was gone, and Mary was dead.” Zach broke down again.     Sarah wanted to comfort the man, but she had no idea how she could. His wife may very well be dead, and the man going to trial for her sister’s murder was innocent. How could anything but Jessica’s return soothe this poor man? No amount of justice would ease the grief he so obviously felt, and Sarah immediately began to wonder if this was how all families of homicide victims felt. It hurt to think of so many people going through what she was witnessing now. The insurmountable grief and utter loss of self that came with losing a loved one ripped through her. She almost didn’t want to ask her next question. Sighing, she asked anyway. “Zach, did you ever find out who the man Jessica was having an affair with was? Or who his wife is?” Zach shook his head. “No. But if I ever find the bastard, I’m going to kill him. He did this, I know he did, and I know it couldn’t have been that Taylor guy. A few men I work with know Taylor and have all said he hasn’t been involved with anybody since the loss of his fiancée. Poor guy, I know how he feels now and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, not even my worst enemy.”      Sarah concluded her interview with Zach Hewitt, and thanked him for being kind enough to answer their questions. “I hope you find him, Miss Anderson. I hope you find him and fry him. Please, for Jessica, find the bastard.” Zach shook her hand gently and then locked the apartment door after seeing them out. His brokenness almost brought Sarah to tears herself during the conversation. She slid in behind the wheel of her car and took a deep, shuddering breath to steady herself. Ray slipped into the passenger seat and exhaled a long sigh. “It’s never easy to meet with the families of victims. Especially when the victim is missing and feared dead. The family has to go through the agony of wondering if their loved one is out there suffering and unable to reach help, or if the victim truly is dead. Its heartbreaking.” Ray sighed again as Sarah wiped a tear away from the corner of her eye.     “It’s horrible. I didn’t realize just how hard this could be!” Sarah cried out as she started sobbing over the steering wheel. Ray put a companionable hand on her back and rubbed her back soothingly. After letting her have a few minutes to regain composure, Ray suggested they grab some dinner and then head over to the hospital to visit with Josh Taylor. They stopped at a McDonald’s and while Ray went inside for the food, Sarah checked her messages on her cell phone. The first was from Ben Carrols, the officer who was at her home the night before. “I’m sorry for taking so long to get back to you Sarah, but I had to help clear the scene of a bad wreck last night. Anyway, your home is still cordoned off until Officer Lemmon and I can get back to check for fingerprints and such. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, I really am.” The young officer’s apologetic tone sounded sincere.     The next message was from her boss. “Sarah, I’m sure you’ve seen it on the news, but Donald Nicholson, the attorney defending Josh Taylor in the trial, has had an awful wreck and apparently isn’t expected to survive from what I’ve heard. I spoke to the judge and the trial is postponed indefinitely while we await word on Nicholson’s condition. We’ll be taking the day off tomorrow in honor of Nicholson and his family. Report to my office first thing Tuesday morning. Thank you.” Well, that was unemotional, Sarah thought. Though she had never known her boss to be an overly emotional man, Sarah had at least expected some measure of emotion in his monotone voice. Shaking her head at Mr. Martin, Sarah listened to her last voicemail, and just about threw the phone out the window.     “Keep going and you’re next Sarah. Those pitiful souls you drag down with you, yeah their blood is spilled by your own hand. They will know it was you who caused their endless suffering, and they will beg for death when I’m done. Keep going Sarah, I’m watching you.” The words sung out on her voicemail by a computer generated voice. The phone number was blocked. She had no idea who had sent the chilling message. Looking out the car window, Sarah scanned the parking lot of the McDonald’s. Would he be out there, watching her? How had he known that she was speaking to people about him specifically? A shudder swept through Sarah as she stared up at the darkening sky. It may only be five in the evening, but night came early to upstate New York this time of year, limiting the amount of time Sarah had to investigate.      The passenger door opening snapped Sarah out of her terrifying internal musings. She panicked and threw the cell phone to the floor of the car, reaching for her seat belt and ready to bolt. Ray smiled a little, amused slightly. “I hope that’s not the way you would react if someone were truly jumping, uninvited, into your car.” He said as he indicated the cell phone she had tossed to the floor. “That might come in handy in one of those situations.” He smiled, attempting to lighten the stricken mood she had fallen into. She smiled slightly, then picked up the cell phone and, with shaky hands, played the message over speaker phone for Ray to listen to. After the tauntingly sadistic message played through a second time, leaving Sarah even more shaken than before, Ray shook his head. “Ditch the phone. Either he’s tracking you through the phone, following us, which I doubt since he works, or he has a tracking device on your car. Shut the phone off and don’t turn it on again. I’m going to have a friend of mine check your car for bugs while we’re in the hospital.”      Sarah did as she was instructed, and went even further by locking the phone in the trunk of her car. They ate in silence before heading for the hospital. Ray made the call to his friend, then instructed her where to park so her car could be checked thoroughly while they were in the hospital. They  entered the hospital together through the double doored main entrance, and sought out the receptionist in the main lobby. The middle aged woman they spoke with was reluctant to give any information out about Josh Taylor since he was a privacy patient, but as soon as Ray flashed his old ID, she cooperated. Josh was on the third floor in recovery room five. They silently made their way to the elevator, pausing to let a young couple exit before stepping on.      Once they were enclosed in the silent steel cage, Ray spoke up. “I asked a few friends from the force to set up a protective detail around the Crowley’s home and Josh Hewitt’s as well. They’re not to let anyone other than the residents of the home pass. No law enforcement especially, unless I tell them otherwise.” At Sarah’s inquisitive look, Ray simply shrugged and returned to looking straight ahead. “The chief owed me a favor.” He said simply. Sarah smiled, glad he had thought of protection for the families after they had listened to her voicemail message. She had been at a loss for what to do, and Ray had already taken care of it. She was glad she had agreed with Donald about inviting Ray in. She couldn’t have done any of this without him.      At the door to Josh’s room, Ray paused and held up a single finger, indicating to Sarah that they be silent and wait a moment. Before she could ask why, a female voice came loud and clear from the other side of the door. “Josh please, you don’t know what you’re doing!” Her voice was shrill, and she sounded like she was pleading. There was a muffled male voice that spoke next, and then another female voice, one Sarah recognized this time, spoke up. "Lillian, why don’t you go on home? You’re stubbornness and hysteria is doing your brother no good. You have nothing to base your opinion on since I assume you have never met the woman before, so please keep your sentiments to yourself, at least until your brother is out of the hospital. Now, please go.” Lillian? The sister who seemed so deeply involved in all of this was on the other side of the door.     Sarah gulped back her fear as heels clicked toward the door and Ray raised his hand to knock. He rapped once before the door opened and a teary eyed young blonde emerged. Sarah noticed several things almost instantly. The first being that Lillian Taylor looked exactly like the other victims. Sarah immediately recognized the fear in the woman’s face, and the bruise on her wrist as she uncomfortably pulled at her coat sleeve. Lillian was a small, petite blond with crisp blue eyes red rimmed from crying. She was shorter than Sarah, who only stood a mere five feet and four inches tall, and she was so thin that Sarah wondered if the girl ever ate. The last thing Sarah noticed about the young woman in front of her was that she didn’t appear capable of the amount of violence like what Mary and Corrine had suffered.      Lillian Taylor paused a moment, surprised by the two people standing in front of her it seemed, then she hurried off down the hall, pulling her coat close. Sarah looked at Ray and noticed the curious look he was casting at Lillian. Sarah started in Lillian’s direction but Ray stopped her. “Now’s not the time. Trust me, we will talk with her, but chasing her through the hospital will do us no favors in getting her to trust us enough to talk.” He whispered before turning to go see Josh Taylor.      Josh lay slumped back against the pillows on his hospital bed, an IV catheter protruding from his left arm. He looked up as they entered, smiling brightly at Sarah. Sarah found herself smiling back, surprised at the feelings of relief and joy at seeing him. His mother sat in an uncomfortable looking reclining chair in the corner of the room, looking exhausted beyond belief. At Sarah’s arrival, the woman brightened a little bit. “Miss Anderson, how are you doing?” She asked kindly. “I’m doing good, thank you. I heard Josh underwent surgery in an attempt to save a friend of mine’s life, so I came to see how you guys are doing. That was a pretty serious surgery, and if he pulls through, I’m sure Donald will be as grateful as I am.” Sarah smiled at Teresa kindly, and then turned to Josh. “How are you feeling?” She asked sympathetically, moving closer to his hospital bed. Without taking his eyes off her, Josh shuddered slightly, shaking his head. “It’s a bit painful, but I’m glad I did it. From what I heard, Donald’s condition was pretty critical. Collapsed lung, failure of both kidneys, three broken ribs, shattered collar bone, fractured arm and he was in danger of losing his left leg. It’s pretty serious, and I know my donation may be in vain because he may not make it out of this, but I couldn’t just stand by after all he has done for me you know?”      Sarah’s heart constricted at the severity of Donald’s condition. Ray had said it was grim, but she didn’t know just how bad until now. She felt like someone had just sucked the air out of her lungs, the panic of her friend not pulling through closed in around her, constricting her chest and making breathing feel difficult. She had to steady herself on Josh’s bed rail and take a deep breath before continuing. Josh and Teresa looked at her with the saddest of expressions. “You didn’t know.” Josh whispered softly. “No,” Sarah shook her head from side to side, whispering in return, “I didn’t know how bad it was.” Josh laid his larger, warm hand over Sarah’s suddenly clammy one in a gesture of comfort. Surprisingly, the gesture warmed Sarah to her core, and she felt a moment of shame at feeling something so good at this moment of despair while Donald’s life still hung in the balance.      Thinking of Donald’s life hanging in the balance brought Sarah’s mind back to her reason for being there. Carefully sitting down on the edge of his bed, Sarah looked at Josh seriously. “I have to talk to you and your mom about some information I stumbled across, something that not only proves you were not involved in the abduction or murder you’re being tried for, but also proves that someone involved in law enforcement set you up.” Sarah paused a moment to let her words sink in before proceeding. “I have some more questions though, and they may be a little uncomfortable to answer. I need the truth though, no matter how uncomfortable it may be, okay?” Teresa agreed automatically. Josh was slower to answer, and when he did, the way he looked down at his hands folded in his lap and avoided her gaze made Sarah feel like there was something he either wanted to keep hidden or he felt ashamed of something.     Thinking of Josh hiding something from her hurt. She knew she was silly for even feeling like that at a time like this, but she couldn’t help it. She was either under a great deal of stress, she was falling for Josh, or both. Somehow, she suspected it to be both. Exhaling on a sigh, Sarah introduced Ray as a private investigator and long time friend even though neither was true. She felt guilty for the false pretenses, but if she had learned one thing from Ray it was to keep some things to herself until she knew who could be trusted. Ray took over the questioning from there.      Ray questioned him further about the disappearance of his fiancée, about who he thought was bothering her at work, and even about if she had told him about the body she had dealt with that resembled her so startlingly. The more in depth Josh got, the harder it was for Sarah to listen. He was still broken over the loss of his fiancée, and she couldn’t help but feel slightly jealous though she knew she had no right to be feeling like that. Meeting someone and falling for him was one thing, but when the person in question happened to be a framed murder suspect with a missing fiancée, that was a whole other ball game. There was no denying that Josh was handsome, or that he seemed to exude this air of kindness and compassion that she so rarely saw in her profession. But the fact remained that he was accused of murder, albeit he was obviously framed, and that the last woman he pledged his heart to had now been missing for two years. No, this went beyond a simple run of the mill attraction to some nice, simple man, this was insane.     Shaking off the tirade of emotions attempting to trample her, Sarah tuned back in to the informal interrogation in time to hear what she had been waiting for since they met Mr. Crowley and his family. “I have to ask you, Josh, Teresa, how does Lillian know the officer who responded to both Sarah’s robbery and Donald’s car accident. He goes by the name of Benjamin Carrols.” Josh looked up in confusion, as if he hadn’t heard the name in a long time, but recalled knowing of someone by that name. Teresa, however, had a different reaction. Her tense but welcoming demeanor changed to an expression of sadness. She almost seemed to deflate like a balloon that lost all its air right in front of them. She sighed and sat heavily in her chair once more. “Please tell me that the person behind all of this isn’t him, please. He was such a nice young man. Lillian met him in middle school when she went off to summer camp. They fell hard for each other. He took her to prom, and they got engaged after a while. Then something changed and we didn’t hear from Lillian for almost a year. She would call maybe once a month, but we didn’t get to see her. Then one day she suddenly shows up with a new fiancée.”     Teresa looked exhausted and emotionally drained. Sarah couldn’t take worrying the poor woman, so she spoke up. “No, Teresa, it’s not him, at least, not as far as we can tell anyway. But the thing is, Lillian seemed to know all of the victims in one way or another, and we’re worried about her now that her acquaintance has come to light.” Sarah said, trying to be more covert by implying Lillian was potentially in danger rather than suggesting she was a part of this. “You don’t think she could be this maniac’s next victim, do you?” Teresa gasped out. Ray seized the opportunity to slip in and covered their tracks nicely. “Ma’am, we honestly don’t know, but I can tell you that it’s a possibility. She does resemble all of the possible victims and she knew all of the victims in one way or another. We just need to be cautious and investigate thoroughly.” Teresa nodded, her kind face registering worry and something else Sarah just couldn’t put her finger on.      Sarah decided to push a little harder on the subject of Lillian. Josh and his mother were hiding something, and Sarah didn’t like it. She had a feeling that what ever it was they were hiding, it had something to do with Lillian. “What do you know about Bradley Taylor?” Sarah asked cautiously, watching Teresa’s and Josh’s faces closely for any sign of recognition, or any reaction at all really. All she saw was confusion. “I’m sorry, who?” Teresa asked. Sarah glanced at Ray before continuing. The seasoned detective appeared to be gazing at the window, but Sarah knew by his stance he was listening to the inflection in their voices intently for any sign of dishonesty.      “Bradley Taylor is your four year old grandson, Teresa. He is Lillian’s son.” Sarah said quietly, looking at the dirty white tiled floor uncomfortably. Suddenly, she wasn’t so sure that she had done the right thing. What if the killer went after that little boy? At Teresa’s shocked whisper, Sarah looked up. “That, that can’t be true.” She was shaking her head, tears in her eyes. “It is, Teresa. I saw him. He looks a lot like Lillian. He’s Ben Carrols’ son as well.” Sarah said softly, wishing she could comfort the woman who’s life she just uprooted. “But why, if she had a child, didn’t she tell us? Why would she just walk out and leave her child behind to show up with a new fiancée at our doorstep. She never even mentioned having a son.” Teresa sounded broken, grasping for understanding in a case where logic and reason had no prevalence. Sarah couldn’t offer the poor woman an explanation as she was searching for one as well. It was Josh who finally offered up any semblance of a reason.     “She left her child and fiancée behind because of him. I’ll bet he made her do it. Come on mom, we know Derrick beats on her, isolates her, and has control over her. What would make Lil just uproot the life she loved so desperately when we had last spoke to her and turn to a life she can’t even convince herself she is happy with? Derrick. It’s always Derrick.” Josh’s angry words jolted through her, bringing to life the question which had eluded her all day long. Finally brought to the surface of her mind, Sarah knew she couldn’t leave it unanswered. “If the real perpetrator is framing you successfully without arousing suspicions from other law enforcement officials, excluding myself, then he or she must be close enough to you, Josh, to get samples of your DNA to place at the crime scene. But this person also has to know how to make the evidence appear as if it had naturally occurred during the commission of the crime rather than being placed after. A crime scene tech or investigator or would have this knowledge. Who are you close enough to that could acquire our DNA without arousing your suspicions?”      As soon as she spoke the question aloud, Sarah knew she was on the right track. Who would have the intellectual intelligence required to stage a crime scene so well that not even one of their investigators or crime scene techs grew suspicious over the DNA? Who could transfer DNA evidence onto a surface without contaminating the evidence beforehand without the proper training? Not even a professional criminal could have done that. No, it had to be someone with enough police expertise to know about DNA transfer, contamination, and crime scene protocols. Someone on the inside. An investigator or a crime scene technician. But did that necessarily mean he or she worked for Albany County? It was a possibility that this person had garnered his or her experience elsewhere and chose to commit the crimes in Albany County, possibly outside of their district. Sarah felt as if she had just broken through a major barrier in this case, but what did that mean if they couldn’t find the person responsible and bring him or her to justice before he or she killed again?     Josh looked startled by the realization that he would have to be close to the killer for his DNA to be taken without his knowledge. Teresa stood in the corner of the room, twisting her hands around a tissues she had clutched tightly in them. White-knuckled and visibly shaken, she shakily asked if there was any possibility that the killer could have just chose Josh at random and wasn’t closely associated with him. “No, ma’am, I’m afraid that Sarah’s right. This person would have to be close to get a good DNA sample to place at the scene without arousing his suspicions.” Ray answered her. “So if it couldn’t have been done in passing, then would that make Josh an accomplice in the crimes?” Teresa looked as if she were about to fall over.      Sarah couldn’t imagine how hard this must be for them. To consider someone who is close to you a possible killer could tear a person apart. How could you trust anyone after that? Looking out the large, tinted glass window at the city skyline, Sarah could feel the sadness and worry permeating the room. Her own awareness of being unable to trust her coworkers and so-called comrades in arms was weighing on her as well. As darkness shrouded the city, so too did it shroud the hearts of all those she had visited today. From Corrine, whose mother was murdered by the same man who brutally attacked and tried to kill her to Dr. Crowley who’s just found out his grandson’s mother and son’s lost love may be involved in the brutal murder of Mary Lee and the disappearance of these women. Even Jessica Hewitt’s ex husband had been touched by the darkness of losing the woman he loved despite the uncertain circumstances surrounding them in her last days.      As they left the hospital together, Sarah pulled her coat tighter around herself and wiped away a stray tear that had slipped from the corner of her eye. “How could it have just been yesterday that I was sitting at my dining room table reviewing the evidence to piece together my opening argument?” She asked Ray. He shook his head indicating he didn’t know while keeping an eye on their surroundings. “I started noticing the discrepancies, things not adding up here and there, then I began to wonder if anything really added up in this case. The further I dug, the more I came to realize that I was about o prosecute an innocent man. I couldn’t let that happen. After all, I had sworn to uphold justice, to protect the victims and put the victimizers behind bars. But now I’ve lost count of all the victims, can’t prosecute the perp, and have no idea who to trust. Its like everything has come full circle and I’m stuck trying to figure out how the circle even came to be!” Sarah was on the verge of hysteria. She took a deep breath and was about to continue when Ray suddenly stopped her.     It was so sudden that she barely had time to react. If it hadn’t been for Ray, she would have been dead. One moment he was whispering to her, “We’re being watched,” and the next he was shoving her onto the ground and pushing her underneath a car as gunshots rang out from somewhere above. Ray kept urging her on, crawling behind her from car to car, heading back toward the security office. Her car was too far away for them to get to safely. Adrenaline surged through her, and she kept on moving, but when the gunshots stopped the silence made her want to scream. It was maddening. Sarah knew that when the shots stopped, the killer had either fled or was on his or her way down to get her. Could he or she be standing by the security office door right now? Shaking and struggling to breathe slowly rather than slip into a panic and hyperventilate, Sarah looked at Ray with wide, frightened eyes. He looked back at her solemnly and nodded his head once before getting out from under the truck they were using as shelter for the moment. He was gone only a moment before he shouted to her. “All clear. We’re safe, for now anyway.”      Getting out from under the large blue truck, Sarah surveyed the scene. Car alarms were screeching in the night, bullet hole piercing shiny new models and rusty older ones alike. Windows were shattered, glass shining on the pavement, and in the distance, they heard police sirens screeching. “What do we do?” Sarah asked, panic rising in her once more. “We leave. Normally I’m not one for leaving the scene of a crime where I’m a witness, but in this case, we don’t know who we can trust and I’m not about to let you get killed on my watch, so we leave.” Ray said as he took hold of her upper arm and walked briskly toward her car. “We need to attract as little attention as possible right now.” He told her, and she nodded, understanding immediately. He was holding her upper arm like he was helping her to her car while also holding her back from running. If they were spotted, it would seem as if her were helping his sick daughter to her car after leaving the hospital.     “Maybe you had better drive. Make it look like I really was just a sick patient here rather than a panicked woman who’s just been shot at.” She attempted a nervous laugh while handing over her keys. Ray took them gingerly, and pushed the unlock button on the key fop. Her car immediately lit up, and they jumped in quickly. Not even pausing long enough to buckle his seatbelt, Ray turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot as fast as he could without attracting the attention of those who were now spilling out of the hospital to see what had happened. Leaning back and sliding down in her seat, Sarah blew out the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. “What do we do now? Josh has no idea who could have framed him, even with what I suggested, and Teresa is too scared to think of anyone who could be suspicious at the moment. We can’t see Donald, and we have no other leads to pursue. What do you do in a moment like this?”      Ray glanced over at her out of the corner of his eye before answering. “We follow up on what we do know. These women all have one other common factor aside from their physical appearance. Lillian Taylor. They all knew Lillian Taylor in one way or another. We dig into her past. Background check, past employment, relationships, colleges, high school if we have to. We look for anyone we can connect to the other women. This person may be in the background of Lillian’s life, but will be in the forefront of the other women’s lives, either working with them or having some other close contact with them. If we can find him, then we may have grounds to work on from there. If not, then we can call in some help from a friend of mine in the FBI.” Sarah thought this over, finally deciding that asking for help while they search was probably the best course of action. If they turned up nothing, then at least they have someone else already working on it from a different perspective. An FBI agent would likely have a different view of what was going on and could possibly offer them some different angle to pursue that may lead to the killer. “Call your friend first, okay?” Sarah asked, and Ray smiled at her. “Bringing in a little help just in case we can’t find the connection is a good idea, Sarah. You would make a good investigator, you know?” Sarah smiled back, the compliment touching her. “I follow my lady justice wherever she may take me.” She replied with a smile. Chapter 5     Once they checked into a hotel, Sarah pulled her laptop out and they began their research while they waited for the pizza Ray had ordered. After the threatening voice message and gunshots, they had chosen to stay at a hotel with good security. For added protection, they roomed together this time. “Okay, I accessed Lillian Taylor’s background information. I had to use a friend of mine’s code to log in with though, so that my log on information can’t be traced.” Sarah stifled a yawn, exhaustion seeping in around her, making her eyelids heavy and her eyes feel grainy, like she had dirt in them. “Let’s hear it. You read, I’ll take notes.” He said, grabbing the notebook and pen she had purchased on their way to the hotel, and opening it to the first page. “Okay, here it goes.” Sarah said, shrugging and returning her gaze to the screen of her computer.      “Lillian Amber Taylor, twenty six years old. She lives at 326 North Main Street in Albany New York. Her date of birth is September twenty-seventh and she does hold a driver’s license although she does not have a vehicle registered in her name. She’s married. Spouse’s name is, holy cow! No. Her husband is my boss! Anthony Derrick Martin! No, it’s just not possible. I know Mr. Martin. He never mentioned having a wife. He doesn’t wear a ring, and he doesn’t talk about even having someone in his life at all!” Sarah was dumfounded. How could her boss be married to Lillian Taylor? How could he assign her this case and not tell her he was involved with the Taylor’s? “It’s a conflict of interests case for crying out loud! How does he expect to get away with that? If that came out, which I’m sure it would, then the conviction would be thrown out and a mistrial would be called!” Sarah’s hysteria kept growing, tearing her apart. This case was beginning to feel like an insurmountable wall, and no matter how far she climbed, she just couldn’t get over it. Or under it. For that matter, she couldn’t even get around it, find a door through or, or bomb the damn thing to pass through.     “Hey, calm down. It’s alright Sarah. The first thing we need to do is figure out if the man married to Lillian Taylor really is your boss. Remember, the person we’re dealing with is cunning. He has police work under his belt. You’re boss could be the victim of a stolen identity and not even know it. Or, he could really be Lillian Taylor’s husband. Either way, we won’t know for sure until we investigate this further. Maybe we could pop up and surprise him at home with a visit tomorrow. If he’s our guy, we aren’t going to give him any warning of our visit. Catch him off guard, okay? He won’t have time to hide anything.” Ray’s hand on her shoulder in a soothing gesture relaxed her a little bit, but Sarah could still feel the threat of rising hysteria mingling with the calmness that had settled in. “Now, let’s get some rest before we surprise your boss at home, shall we?” Ray gestured toward one of the two queen sized beds in the room. As Sarah packed up her laptop, Ray climbed into his own bed and said a quick prayer for help and deliverance. If this case continued down the road it was taking, Sarah knew they would all need God’s help to overcome it.     In the morning, Sarah woke early to shower before heading off to prove whether or not her boss, Anthony Derrick Martin, was actually the man married to Lillian Taylor. As the hot water sprayed over her hair, running down her back, Sarah let the emotions she had desperately tried to keep in check over the last two days finally wash over her. Sadness over Donald brought tears to her eyes, and the conflicting feelings she had about Josh Taylor sent the tears over the brim of her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. The fear she felt when her home was invaded by the killer and the utter terror of last night’s shooting sent fresh waves of panic coursing through her. How could it be possible that just three days ago she had been just another ordinary assistant at the district attorney’s office? Now, it seemed as if her life were a constant series of interrogations, painful admissions, mistrust, and fear. Was there anyone she could trust right now? Aside from Donald and Ray, Sarah knew of no one she could absolutely rule out at her office, in the station, or even in the lab. Of course everyone had their secrets, that’s life. Everyone does something at least once in their life that they don’t want others to know about. But who among those people had the dark secret of murder hidden behind their smile?      Shivering in the warm water and realizing that she hadn’t even washed up yet, Sarah reached a shaky hand for the shampoo bottle she’d brought with her when they left her house the other night. Popping the bottle open, Sarah squeezed it into her hand. Surprised at the texture of the shampoo, she opened her eyes to look at her palm and let out a blood curdling scream.      Seconds later Ray had broken through the door and stood in the bathroom looking at the blood splattered shower wall. Sarah stood on the cold tile floor, wrapped in a towel and shaking, eyes wide with horror. “You’re not bleeding? You’re okay?” Ray asked, wide awake and fully alert after her scream awoke him. “Yes, I’m fine. It-it came from my shampoo bottle. There-there’s blood in my shampoo bottle.” Sarah stuttered as she pointed a pale, shaky finger at the black Pantine bottle. As soon as she said the words, Ray whipped around. “When was the last time you used this? Where did you leave the bottle?” Not entirely following his line of questioning while her brain was muddied up with terror and adrenaline, Sarah answered him, completely bewildered. “I-I used it yesterday morning before we left the hotel and it stayed in my car. Wh-why?” Ray looked at her in sympathy, understanding flashing in his wise eyes. “He’s upped the ante. Toying with us. He proved he can get into your car and exchange your things without you knowing. It’s a terror move, meant to say he can get to you any time he wants. Its meant to scare you.” He said kindly. “Well, it worked.” She spit out. “I’m calling Charlie back. He should be here by now anyway. I want him to run the blood in this bottle against the known DNA samples of the missing women, your homicide victim Mary, and even Corrine just in case.”      What Ray left unsaid terrified Sarah even more than the blood had. He wanted the blood tested because he feared it belonged to one of the women. Knowing this psychopath was using the blood of his victims to terrorize her sent tremors of fear up and down her spine. Shivering in fear, Sarah dressed quickly and prepared to meet Charlie Sinclair at the local McDonalds in Wynantskill for the blood drop then the visit to her boss in Clifton Park. As they walked out of the hotel, Sarah couldn’t help but let her eyes roam the roof while tremors of fear continued to race through her. No hidden gunmen appeared, no shots were fired, nothing happened. It was almost too calm. The parking lot of the hotel was deserted. Only a few cars were in the lot. The gray, overcast morning lent to the gloomy mood that had settled inside of her. The still, crisp air held a slight feeling of anticipation, as if the morning itself was holding its breath waiting for something to happen. Distracted, Sarah unlocked her car and opened the door. That’s when it hit her, the smell. Screams tore from her throat, piercing the quiet and shattering the calm morning.      In an instant, Ray had pulled her back away from the car, shoving her toward the main office of the motel for safety. People were spilling out of the motel lobby, looking to see what was going on. Sarah almost wished she hadn’t seen what was going on. In her car sat the body of a young woman who was so deteriorated that she was utterly unrecognizable. Pushing Sarah into the lobby and flipping out his cell phone, Ray paused in the doorway to speak to the spectators gathered there. Sarah heard the words police investigation but not much else. She managed to make it to a chair in the lobby before collapsing in a shaking, sobbing heap in the uncomfortable, cracked green upholstered chair.      She lost track of time, but when Ray finally came over to her with a grim look on his face, Sarah knew it was time to toughen up and head out to see her boss. This visit would either confirm that her boss was a part of the conspiracy or prove that he was another victim in the entire thing. Ray led her to a car waiting near the entrance to the hotel. It was a newer black Chevrolet sedan. Sarah slid in to the cold leather passenger seat solemnly, fighting the nausea rising inside of her. Ray got in to the driver’s seat, plugged the address to Anthony Martin’s house in to the GPS, and then finally looked over at her. With sadness and compassion in his eyes, Ray patted her knee gently in a gesture of comfort and companionship.      “I’m sorry. The first time is always the hardest. Its not like viewing the pictures is it?” He asked gently. “No, its not.” Sarah replied automatically in a monotone. “Are you okay?” She replied in the same distracted monotone, “I don’t know.” Ray looked over at her once more, sympathy shining brightly in his wise, aged eyes before pulling out onto the oddly deserted road. After a few minutes of silence, Ray began to explain everything that had just happened slowly and clearly so it would get through her shock and sink in.      “I called Charlie and had him pick her up quietly. He had your car towed to the crime lab he’s working with in Saratoga. The bystanders were all told that this was an ongoing police investigation and that speaking of the situation to anyone outside the FBI was a criminal offense punishable by up to five years in prison. When he arrived, I handed Charlie over your shampoo bottle as well. The blood will be analyzed by this afternoon. He had to lace a rush order on it. Dental records will give the preliminary ID of the woman in your car by this afternoon as well as per the rush order placed on everything in this case. They’ll have to wait for a mitochondrial DNA match for the body to be certain of the identity though, which could take weeks. A full background report on Anthony Martin will be available by mid-morning. The body and blood are a top priority, being examined before anything else in the lab.” Sarah nodded, still completely in shock.   Chapter 6     When they arrived at Mr. Martin’s home in Clifton Park, Sarah had to take a few extra minutes to compose herself. The young woman’s body had been awful to see. Grotesque in nature, but it wasn’t the sight or smell of her that had Sarah so upset. No, it was the fact that in real life you could see the suffering of the victim, her loved ones, and the awful loss that they all suffered. You don’t see that in crime scene photographs. In the pictures, you can convince yourself that it doesn’t bother you so much. But in real life, the body holds unspeakable loss and horror, and Sarah couldn’t get past that. Maybe it was just her inexperience in the investigative field, but she had no doubt that she would never be able to erase that woman’s body from her memory.      Shaking herself out of her shocked stupor, Sarah exited the vehicle and joined Ray on the sidewalk leading up to a large, picturesque Victorian style house. Its stunning beauty was in stark contrast with the dull, gray day that framed it. The walked up the porch steps and Ray reached out to ring the doorbell. “Nice place.” Ray commented as they waited. Sarah only nodded. After a few moments, the door opened to reveal Anthony Martin still in his bathrobe rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. On reflex, Sarah checked the time on her cell phone and noticed that it was already eight in the morning. When working, Mr. Martin was usually in the office at seven reviewing case files. She had just assumed that he was an early riser considering the hours he kept at the office. Apparently she had been wrong.      “Sarah? What on earth are you doing here at this hour? Is it Donald?” The concern in his voice and the way he changed from groggy to alert and on edge shocked Sarah. It was just the day before that he had left the unemotional voicemail on her cell phone about Donald. Now he seemed genuinely worried, and she wondered if his monotone in the message had been affected for all employees to keep them from worry. Feeling sorry that she had woke the poor man from his slumber and worried him all at once, Sarah apologized. “No, sir, its not Donald. Last I heard, he was doing better though still in critical condition.” Martin looked confused. “Then why the early morning visit?”     Sarah opened her mouth to speak but found that she had no reasonable explanation for why she had suddenly popped up at his doorstep at eight in the morning on a day they had off. Thankfully, Ray stepped up and took over. “Mr. Martin, sir, I’m Raymond Corning. A retired detective and close friend of Donald Nicholson’s. I was hoping to speak with you about something that directly concerns you. May we come in?” Sarah held her breath, knowing that this was the moment of truth. If he denied their entrance then he may have something to hide. However, if he allowed them to enter his home, he may not be the Anthony Derrick Martin married to Lillian Taylor, meaning he was a victim of stolen identity. Confusion was evident in his eyes, and although his demeanor remained alert and cautious, he opened the door and gestured them in without a word, looking up and down the street before shutting and locking the door. He gestured for them to follow him into the large living room.      Once in the modestly furnished living room, Mr. Martin folded his tall frame into a red upholstered arm chair, sighing as he did so. “I’m sorry, I was up late last night working on a few last minute case files and wasn’t expecting visitors so early. Actually, I wasn’t expecting visitors at all to be quite honest, so you’ll have to excuse the mess.” Sarah looked around and almost wanted to laugh. Mess? There was a dog toy in the middle of the floor, a coffee cup and plate on the coffee table, a blanket and laptop computer sitting on a stand near the arm chair, and a small, sleepy dog lay at his feet. His house wasn’t messy by Sarah’s standards, not even close. “So what is it that you felt the need to wake me for?” He asked cautiously.     “Well sir, I have to ask, are you married by any chance?” Ray asked politely. “Why, of course I am. My wife may have passed, but I still consider myself married to her. Why do you ask?” Mr. Martin’s eyes held a sorrow in them that was hard to fake, even for the best of actors, Sarah noticed. “I’m sorry sir, but I need to know if you may have remarried. Perhaps to a Miss Lillian Taylor?” At Ray’s suggestion, Mr. Martin’s eyes teared up slightly. “I loved Lauren with all my heart. Although she has passed on, I would consider myself a shameful man if I were to remarry. I could never love a woman like I loved Lauren, and it would be unfair both to Lauren’s memory and to any woman if I were to remarry. And to suggest I would be married to a woman who’s brother is on my case load without recusing myself is preposterous!” He exclaimed.      Sarah looked at Ray to see what he thought of Mr. Martin’s exclamation. To her, he seemed genuine. There were framed photographs of a beautiful dark haired woman on the walls of the living room. One picture was a wedding photo, another was a holiday portrait, and another was of just the woman herself. It was obvious that the woman in the photographs was not Lillian Taylor, but did that mean Mr. Martin was telling the truth? Sarah’s inexperience at reading people had her relying upon Ray’s investigative expertise to determine whether or not Mr. Martin was being honest with them. Ray nodded at her and then looked back to Mr. Martin. “Well then sir, we had better explain a few things to you.” Ray went on to describe Sarah’s findings, that Josh Taylor had been wrongly accused, about the other women linked to this case, and about the terror tactics used on Sarah. “Also, we now realize that you may also be a victim in this case. A man using your name, date of birth, and social security number, or essentially your identity, is married to Lillian Taylor. We think he’s our man. Especially now that we know he’s used a false identity.”      Anthony Martin visibly paled. He was ghastly white when he finally spoke. “I noticed the discrepancies in the case as I was reviewing the file last night. Its part of why I was up so late. I started to realize that we are possibly looking for one of our own, and after making that realization I couldn’t sleep. I’m afraid he’s going to come after me next.” Martin confided. Suddenly it clicked inside Sarah’s befuddled mind why he had looked up and down the street and then bolted the door behind them. “You think he’s going to come for you.” Sarah said. It wasn’t a question. She knew it was true the moment she said it out loud. Her boss was scared. The man who had prosecuted countless murderers without even batting an eyelash was now afraid for his own life. If he was scared, did that mean she should be worried as well? What would this guy be willing to do to keep his secret well hidden? To what lengths would he be willing to go? Sarah started to shake in fear again.     Ray exhaled loudly into the suddenly quiet room. “I hate to say this sir, but there’s a good chance we’ve been followed here today. This guy’s getting desperate. He weaved such a tangled web that he’s now having a hard time keeping it all together. He’s going to go after any threat he perceives, including you, Sarah, Donald, me, Josh Taylor, and anyone else who may have questions about him.” Mr. Martin’s sudden intake of breath brought Sarah to attention. He didn’t know that Donald’s accident wasn’t really an accident. “Donald’s accident may be linked to this guy as well. His accident happened after we were shot at while entering my house.” Sarah said quietly.      After finishing up with Mr. Martin, Ray instructed him on how to keep safe with this man on the prowl and then they got back into the Chevrolet to head for the hospital. “I have two undercover guards on Donald and his wife, two on Josh Taylor and his mother, and one on us now. It pays to know people in the FBI.” Ray’s attempt at conversation fell short when Sarah finally asked the question that felt like an elephant in the room. “Do you think he’s going to try to kill Donald, Mr. Martin, Josh, Teresa, and me?” Ray appeared to think it over for a minute before he finally answered her. “Mr. Martin is in his way.  If Mr. Martin disappears then this guy can go on under Martin’s identity, so yes he will likely go after Mr. Martin. Donald knows there’s something amiss, so yes, a second attempt on Donald’s life wouldn’t surprise me. Teresa is persistent on her son’s innocence, so yes to her as well. As for Josh, if he does go after Josh he would have to make it appear to be a suicide, otherwise he will lose his scapegoat.” Along pause followed by a sigh ensued before he finally spoke the words that they both knew were true. “You, however, he will come after repeatedly until we either get him or he succeeds because you pose a serious threat to him. You noticed the discrepancies and pursued them in the interest of justice. You’re not likely to let it go, and that threatens this world of his. You should know though, I won’t let him get to you Sarah. Nothing’s going to happen to you. You’ve become like a daughter to me already, and I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.” Ray’s promise and his heartfelt words brought tears springing to her eyes suddenly. She nodded and bit back on a sob that rose in her throat. She was thankful for Ray being with her, but what if something happened to him too? She couldn’t bear the thought of someone else she had become close to being hurt by this psychopath.      Ray’s ringing cell phone interrupted Sarah’s thoughts, and they pulled into a gas station parking lot so he could take the call. Moments later he was back in the car with a grim set to his jaw. Dread filled Sarah’s heart. More bad news. Would this ever end? ‘No,’ she thought to herself, ‘It won’t. Not until we catch this guy and lock him up.’ “What is it?” She asked Ray as he buckled himself in and revved the engine, shooting out of the parking lot at speeds far greater than the posted sign allowed for. “We got ourselves a problem. The body in your car this morning? Preliminary results came back almost immediately. The body is that of Jenna Swift. Coroner says she’s likely only been dead a few weeks at most.” Sarah gasped. How could this woman who has been missing for about two years only have been dead for at most only a few weeks? “Then where was she for the two years she was missing? And why so badly decomposed?” Sarah asked in a strangled whisper. “That’s what we’re about to find out.” Ray said cryptically. Sarah immediately understood. “Lillian Taylor.” She said, a statement, not a question this time. “Yep.” He replied stonily, “Lillian Taylor seems to be in the center of all of this. These women who have either died or gone missing resemble her very closely. She’s married to a man who is operating under the identity of your boss. Her brother just so happens to be the one being framed for these crimes, and she had been friendly with all of the women prior to their disappearances and deaths, or in Corrine’s case, assaults. Now, who would be closer to our scapegoat Josh than his own sister? Would she not be able to get samples of his DNA without making him suspicious?”      Ray’s line of reasoning made sense, but something he wasn’t saying was bothering her. “You haven’t mentioned Mr. Martin’s background check. What’s the matter?” She asked cautiously. Ray frowned, looked sideways at her, and then back at the road. “It hasn’t come back yet. There was a problem in getting the report considering there are two men operating as the same man. It’s going to take longer to sort out which one is which, but I’m betting that your boss is just another victim and in no way involved in this at all.” That was a major relief to Sarah, but she felt like she was still missing something. It took her a moment to realize that they were still headed in the direction of the hospital. “We’re still going to the hospital?” Ray nodded, swallowing before he answered. “Yes. We need to deliver the news about Jenna to Josh and his mother. Then we need to know more about Lillian’s husband and where they reside, although I have her background check being run at this very moment.”      They rode the rest of the way to the hospital in silence while Sarah pondered how she felt about delivering the news to Josh. She knew he would be devastated, especially after finding out that she had been alive for this long before being murdered. Sarah felt her heart twisting in her chest. She cared for Josh, even after knowing him so short a time. She didn’t want to see him hurt, but no matter what happened, he was going to be hurt either way. Steeling herself for what was about to come, Sarah tried to focus her attention on what was bothering her about this. Had the woman been tortured? Had she endured two years of suffering at the hand of this man? Or had she simply been on the run and he had just caught up with her? Too many possibilities. How could she rule them out? The autopsy would surely tell her. Chapter 7     They entered the main lobby of the hospital and paused long enough to grab a cup of coffee from the café and gift shop off the lobby. They stepped into the elevator carrying steaming cups of coffee and pushed the button for Josh’s floor. “I think you better handle this one, Ray. I don’t have any experience in this type of situation.” Sarah said shakily. Ray smiled sadly and nodded before stepping out of the elevator. They stepped off the elevator and into the dimly lit post-op recovery floor corridor. The cold tile floor seeped through Sarah’s sneakers and sent a chill up through her. The corridor smelled of antiseptic with the underlying odor of blood that Sarah swore she could smell in every hospital no matter what part of the place she was in. Grief began to overwhelm her, and she had to take several deep breaths to keep from hyperventilating. How could they possibly deliver this news when the poor guy was recovering after donating a vital organ to his attorney who he had only known a short time. This just seemed wrong to Sarah. The whole thing was just plain wrong.      Biting back tears, Sarah reached out a shaky hand and knocked on Josh’s hospital room door. Teresa opened it and her welcoming smile broke Sarah’s heart. Ray entered first, then Sarah followed, careful not to look too closely at the way Josh’s smile softened when he looked at her. “Sarah, what’s wrong?” Josh asked softly, worry written all over his handsome face. Sarah couldn’t speak, her throat was sore with grief and tears threatened to spill over. She shook her head and gestured to Ray, then wandered over to look out the hospital window at the gray clouds settling over the city. “Mrs. Taylor, Josh, this morning we received some bad news and felt that we needed to bring it to you in person.” Ray began. Josh nodded and his mother moved closer to him, wrapping her small hands around his arm and patting gently. “This morning, when Sarah and I left the hotel we discovered a body placed in the front driver’s seat of her car. It turned out that the body was that of your missing fiancée, Jenna Swift.”      “No!” Teresa cried out, and Josh just shook his head from side to side, tears springing to his eyes. The pain Sarah saw etched there in his face had her heart breaking into a million tiny little pieces. Ray gave the two a moment before continuing. “There’s more. When the coroner looked her over, his preliminary finding was that Miss Swift had not been deceased for more than a few weeks at most. A thorough autopsy will nail down a more definitive timeframe, but for now we do know that for most of the time she had been missing, Miss Swift was still alive. I’m sorry.” Ray said, bowing his head and stepping back. He retreated over to the window where Sarah stood rigidly and placed a hand on her shoulder.      “Are you alright?” he whispered to her. Sarah nodded, wiping at a stray tear that had escaped. Ray nodded and turned back toward the grieving mother and son. “I understand that you need your time to grieve, but now that we have solid proof that Miss Swift was murdered, we do need to ask you a few questions. I need you to understand that I’m not interrogating you and that I know you had nothing to do with this. I just need to ask a few questions, okay?” Ray asked softly. Sarah remained by the window, preferring to look out at the city rather than see the grief so plainly etched on both of their faces, a grief that mirrored her own even though she had not known the poor woman.      Ray began by telling them he was going to record their conversation so they had more than just hearsay by a retired investigator and assistant district attorney. They nodded their consent, and Ray began. “As I have just told you, Jenna Swift’s body was found this morning in the driver’s seat of a vehicle at the Holiday Inn in Albany, New York. We have reason to believe she has not been deceased for the entire duration of time that she was missing, and that, in fact, she was murdered within the last few weeks. I now have to ask you, have you spoke with her family at all during the time she was missing?” Teresa answered that. “Yes, sir. I have spoken with her mother several times.” Ray’s demeanor was that of a professional, but Sarah noticed that his eyes registered surprise.      “Had her mother ever indicated that she may know where Jenna was? Or did she seem in any way less concerned than you felt she should have been?” Sarah realized belatedly that they may actually be able to track Jenna Swift through her mother. If the mother had not reported Jenna missing, which she obviously had not, then there was a good chance she had either seen or heard from her daughter at some point during the time frame she was missing. “Well, she seemed worried, but as far as I know, she never reported Jenna missing. I find that strange, but never really thought much of it until now. Why?” Ray looked to Sarah, then back at Teresa Taylor. “Ma’am, Jenna’s mother could have either known where Jenna was or heard from her several times over the duration of time she was missing. We will need to speak with her. I’m sorry.” Teresa had gone from ashen to completely pale in a matter of seconds after Ray had spoken. Sarah understood immediately. Teresa must be shocked and feel betrayed by the woman who could have put her son’s worry to rest. The woman could have mentioned she knew something, but hadn’t. Why?     Ray finished his line of questioning about Jenna Swift and snapped the voice recorder off. Then, in the ensuing silence, he pulled out his notebook and sat down heavily in a chair by the window where Sarah was perched. “I have some more bad news, but perhaps you already suspect this yourselves. Neither of you appear overly fond of Lillian’s husband, Mr. Martin. I have to ask you both a few questions about him, and I ask that you keep these questions from Lillian.” Teresa grew panicked and Josh’s eyes reflected suspicion. “Why?” He asked. Sarah finally spoke up, looking at Josh instead of out the window as she had been doing for the entire conversation. “Lillian’s husband is operating under a false identity. Mr. Anthony Derrick Martin is my boss, the Albany County District Attorney. My boss is a widower. His wife passed, and he didn’t remarry. The man your sister is married to is not only using my boss’s identity, but may very well be the man who framed you, the man we are looking for. If your sister finds out about our questions and begins to question him, then her life could be in peril. It would be better that she didn’t know. You’re technically not even supposed to know, but I feel you both should.”      Grief turned to shock and then a mask of pure anger filtered over Josh’s features. Sarah couldn’t blame him. “I knew it! I knew he was crazy right from the start! Damn it! I told her that!” His voice rose in anger, and Teresa tried to calm him while struggling with the shock, anger, and grief herself. “Will you answer my questions?” Ray asked softly, and Teresa nodded. “I’ll tell you everything.” She said sadly. Ray nodded and began. “What is Mr. Martin’s profession?” “He’s the coroner’s assistant in Albany County now. He used to be lead investigator down in Manhattan, but claims he prefers the morgue to the streets.” Josh spat out. The coroner’s assistant? Sarah was stunned. She had thought he was an investigator or crime scene technician. How could the coroner’s assistant plant DNA evidence without arousing suspicions, even if he was a former investigator in Manhattan? Nothing was adding up. There had to be a missing link somewhere, something that brought this all together. Lillian. Lillian Taylor was the key, Ray had said so. Lillian Taylor may be the missing piece in the puzzle, or else she was the foundation on which this mystery was built upon. Sarah wasn’t sure which.     An hour after they had finished their questioning of the Taylors and checked on Donald, they sat at a booth in the corner of a local McDonalds eating a quick lunch when Ray’s cell phone range. He looked at the caller ID and flipped the phone open immediately. “Corning here. What have you got for me?” Ray stopped in mid sip of his soda, looking at Sarah with grim surprise shining in his eyes. “I understand, thank you.” He flipped the phone shut and looked at Sarah. “Results on the blood in your shampoo bottle are back. The blood belongs to Jessica Hewitt,” “Oh gosh!” Sarah moaned in horror. “Wait a minute, I’m not finished.” Ray told her, looking at her with what seemed like the first spark of hope she had seen in him since they met. “The blood was oxygenated, meaning Jessica Hewitt was still alive when the blood was taken. That means there’s still a chance that we can find Jessica alive.”      The horror that had filled Sarah moments ago turned to relief. They may yet find one victim alive, and the hope of that sent Sarah’s heart hammering into overdrive. She so desperately wanted to bring Jessica home alive. Was it possible? Was it really possible? She genuinely hoped so. In this case there had been little hope, little of anything but sorrow, grief and horror. Did she dare hope for the improbable? “Is it possible?” Sarah asked hopefully. “Only if we can get to him quickly. I would say Jessica Hewitt doesn’t have much time left.” Ray said sadly. “We need to get into contact with Jenna Swift’s mother, and while I speak with her over the phone, I want you to pull the full background report on Lillian Taylor I had emailed to you. If we double up on this, increase our effort, we may just get Jessica Hewitt back alive.” Ray said excitedly.      Twenty minutes later Sarah sat in the front passenger seat of the Chevrolet in the McDonalds parking lot with her laptop open on her lap. She had downloaded the file on Lillian Taylor and she sat there studying it while Ray called Jenna Swift’s mother. Once he reached the woman, he placed the call on speaker phone. “I’m Ray Corning, an investigator working with the assistant district attorney in Albany County, New York. I was hoping I might have a word with you about your daughter, Jenna.” A long pause ensued before the woman blew out what sounded like a frustrated sigh. “My daughter is fine, detective. I don’t understand why Josh Taylor just can’t let her go. Look, I won’t admit this to him or his mother, but Jenna calls me every couple of weeks, okay? She’s not missing.”      Sarah’s heart almost stopped when she heard the woman say Jenna made calls to her every few weeks. She really had known something. “Well ma’am, did she happen to say why she just walked away from her life?” Ray asked cautiously, careful not to arouse the woman’s suspicions. Another long pause, then she spoke carefully, almost grudgingly. “This doesn’t get back to the Taylor’s you hear? Jenna was worried when she called, her voice so strained like she was terrified and in pain. She never outright said it was Josh, but she was afraid of something. I could hear it in her voice. He must have been the reason she left.” Ray looked at Sarah and raised his eyebrows. “Ma’am, did Jenna ever mention where she was? What she was doing?” After a brief pause, she answered, but her voice was full of worry when she spoke instead of the annoyance of moments before. “No. She would never tell me where she was. Always called from a blocked phone number and never mentioned what she was doing to stay alive. She always asked me not to let her be reported missing before hanging up though. Why? Is she okay?”      Sarah couldn’t stand to hear what Ray had to tell the poor woman, so she stepped out of the car with her laptop and focused harder on finding something, anything, that could help them in Lillian Taylor’s background. When Ray called to her a few minutes later, Sarah had more questions than answers. She got in the vehicle and turned to look at Ray. “What do you think after that phone call?” She had to ask. She needed at least one answer to the endless mountain of questions she couldn’t seem to answer, “I believe he is keeping the women he abducts prisoner for any length of time before he kills them. He didn’t want Jenna reported missing because it may have been easy to link him to her, so he made her call her mother. That’s what I believe.”     “I found something in Lillian Taylor’s information while you were on the phone. It may be of some use, but I doubt it.” She sighed heavily before continuing. “Lillian Taylor has property in her name not far from here. Its in a secluded area. I doubt its anything, but it’s the only thing that seemed off in her file.” Sarah said dejectedly. She was looking out the window grimly at the gloomy day when Ray startled her. “Where? Give me directions.” There was an urgency in his voice that Sarah didn’t fully comprehend. She rattled off the directions as he drove like a mad man. Halfway there, Ray pulled out his cell phone and asked the person on the other end to dispatch backup and a medic, but keep them on standby once at the sight. Sarah’s confusion gave way to understanding and adrenaline began to pump through her. “You think that’s where he’s keeping his victims.” Sarah said excitedly. It was a grim sort of excitement because she didn’t know what to expect but she did know they were closing in.  Would they find Jessica Hewitt alive? Or would her hopes be crushed? Would they have to deliver the news of another loss to another family? Would she even be able to stand it this time? ‘I’ll find out soon,’ she thought as they barreled down the dirt road toward the property, kicking dust up behind them. Chapter 8     Ray brought the car to a screeching halt, throwing it into park and turning to Sarah urgently. “I’m going in. If you hear or see anything wrong, I want you to drive out of here, okay?” he asked even more urgently. Part of Sarah wanted to run away now while the other part wanted to be right beside him rushing in to the shabby building to rescue anyone who may be inside. Instead she nodded her assent and waited, white-knuckled while Ray risked his life by entering the building alone. It was only a few moments before he reemerged from the building carrying a limp body. “Oh Lord, no!” Sarah cried out as she rushed from the car. “She’s alive!” Ray called triumphantly, and Sarah stopped short, sobbing in relief and joy. They had found her alive!      The paramedics arrived within minutes and everything was a flurry of action and excitement that Sarah couldn’t keep up with. FBI agents swarmed the land, searching the building and surrounding area for any possible evidence. Ray came over to Sarah as she leaned against the car, exhausted, and put a hand on her shoulder. “Good work, Sarah. If you hadn’t mentioned this property, we may not have found Jessica in time.” He said as he patted her on the shoulder once more before going to speak with one of the FBI agents.      Sarah was surprised to find how exhausted she felt. This case had been a terrible ordeal, but it was finally going to over. Sarah sighed and relaxed back against the cold metal of the car. They knew who was responsible, and it was only a matter of time before he was apprehended. Sarah finally felt free of worry. Smiling to herself, Sarah turned around to get into the car, and that’s when she saw him. Smiling like a maniac with a gun pointed straight at her, Officer Lemmon stood just inside the shelter of trees nearby. Sarah was about to scream when she saw him shake his head and move swiftly toward her. She looked around frantically, but the other agents and Ray were all too busy with the scene in front of them to pay attention to what was happening behind their backs. In seconds he was on her. His beefy hand wrapped around her mouth, clamping down over her nose with a rag. Chloroform. She knew it the moment she inhaled a horrified gasp, but it was too late. The effects were immediate. Suddenly, darkness fell over her like a thick wool blanket, and the world faded away.     Ray had been speaking with the lead FBI agent when he realized that Sarah was no longer leaning against the back of the car he had rented earlier that day. “I’ll be right back.” He told Agent Wilson distractedly, moving toward the car. When he found it empty, panic rose in his chest, his throat closed and his heart started to race. “Sarah!” he shouted, “Sarah!” He looked around the property, but saw only FBI agents. Sarah was nowhere in sight. Agent Wilson ran over to him, and Ray hurried to give Sarah’s description so they could put out an all-points bulletin and broadcast an alert over the emergency alert system.      Ray was absolutely in a panic. He had promised Sarah that he wouldn’t let anything happen to her, and now she was gone! He had to do something! Without a word to anyone, he jumped in the car and sped off. All at once, he knew where to go. If there was anyone he had met that cared about Sarah as much as he did, it was Josh Taylor. Who would best be able to get through to Lillian Taylor? Her brother Josh and their mother. Ray broke all speed limits on his way to the hospital, knowing that every second counted when it came to getting Sarah back alive. Thoughts danced through his mind, torturing him. Was Sarah being tortured? Was she dead already? Was he too late? Why hadn’t he been more aware of his surroundings? Why hadn’t he kept a close eye on her? He knew that he had foolishly gotten caught up in the triumphant excitement of bringing one victim home alive. That triumph had consumed him and he’d had a lapse in judgement by not anticipating the killer’s last desperate moves. Ray banged his fist on the steering wheel, yelling curses at no one in particular. Already pushing the limits, Ray pressed down on the accelerator.      Instead of stopping to wait for the elevator, Ray ran up the stairs to the floor where Josh Taylor was. He didn’t pause to knock at the door to the hospital room, bursting in instead and scaring the wits out of Teresa and Josh Taylor. Teresa jumped up and Josh immediately sat upright, looking behind Ray at the door for Sarah. “She’s not coming. He’s taken her!” Ray ground out, breathless from his run up three flights of stairs. Teresa stumbled backward, falling heavily into the chair beside the window with a hand fluttering up to cover her mouth as she gasped. “No.” Josh moaned in grief. “I need you to hold it together for her, Josh. Its your sister’s husband. He’s the killer, the one who kidnapped, tortured, and killed your fiancée, Jessica Hewitt, Mary Lee Clark, and several others. He framed you. Your sister is the only one who can help us. I need you to get ahold of Lillian.” Though his words were rushed and breathless, he could tell that they had gotten through to Josh. He nodded and reached for a cell phone his mother handed him from her purse with pale, shaking hands. It took him three tries, but Josh finally succeeded in getting through to his sister.      Sarah woke with a severe headache, her eyes felt so swollen that she didn’t dare try to open them. Bouts of nausea rolled over her in waves, like being on a boat adrift in the ocean. Trying to roll over so she could wretch, Sarah discovered she was on a cold wooden floor. Movement hurt so much, but she had to do it otherwise she would choke to death on her vomit. With a sudden startling clarity, Sarah remembered what had happened before she blacked out. Officer Lemmon had accosted her, used chloroform to drug and silence her, kidnapped her, and now she lay on a cold, hard floor in horrible pain at the man’s mercy. She groaned, and forced her eyes open only to find she was in a darkened room with nothing but a fireplace and chair in one corner. Lemmon was nowhere in sight.      She tried to force herself into a sitting position, but dizziness overtook her and black spots began to swim in her vision. She let her head fall back against the floor carefully, and tried to assess her situation with a calm head. Panic would only cause her to hyperventilate. Sarah slowly took stock of her situation. Her feet were bound by a scratchy rope at the ankle. Her arms were tied behind her back with the same scratchy rope biting into her wrists, and by tugging gently on both she found that the rope was either all one piece, or else it was tied together to form a sort of shackle. She listened carefully, but heard nothing in the darkness. No footsteps, no traffic nearby, nothing to indicate where she was. Forcing the panic rising inside of her back down, Sarah struggled with her bindings, trying to slip her wrist free.      The pain was excruciating, and she could feel warm, wet blood oozing down her hands, making her palms sticky. There was no use, the bindings just were not budging. She tried desperately to give one last good yank, and cried out when she felt her wrist dislocate. Blackness swam over her vision and Sarah went unconscious once more.     Lillian Taylor arrived at the hospital within minutes of her brother’s phone call. She’d been on her way to see him when he’d called, but froze at the door and almost turned to run away when she saw Ray pacing by the window. Ray looked up and caught the terrified woman’s eyes. “I know.” He said, and she broke down, dissolving into tears. “I-I didn’t want her to get hurt! I told Josh to leave her be so she wouldn’t get hurt, but it didn’t matter!” She blurted out, sobbing into her hands. Josh was stone-faced, grief and anger warring in his eyes. “Lillian, you had better tell us everything and I mean now.” Josh growled dangerously, and Lillian’s head snapped up. She locked eyes with her brother for a moment, glanced at her mother, and finally nodded, her shoulders drooping as if she had just deflated.     “I want it all. From the beginning. Sarah’s life depends on it.” Ray ground out, wishing he could speed the process up but knowing that he may make a fatal mistake if he tried. A mistake that could cost Sarah her life. So instead, he bit his tongue and tried to listen with patients as Lillian Taylor told a horrific story.     “It started when I was in college. I met Craig Lewis at a coffee shop in downtown Manhattan when I was studying for a final. We talked for a bit, but I went my own way and never gave him a second thought. I spent my weekends with Ben Carrols, and became pregnant. That’s when I moved in with him and we planned to get married a few months after our son was born, but that didn’t happen. Craig started stalking me. He broke in my home and r***d me while my infant son lay in his crib screaming. After a while, he started threatening me, forcing me to leave Ben and my son behind or he said he would kill them.” Lillian’s face was ashen, her tone dejected. Ray couldn’t help but feel sorry for her as he realized that she, too, was a victim.      “Using my son as a weapon, he blackmailed me into marrying him. I had to pretend to be happy while I suffered brutal and humiliating punishments, r**e, and abuse behind closed doors. To further make me feel powerless, he befriended Ben! Knowing how much I love Ben, he befriended him and laughs in my face about it all the damn time!” She cried, grief and humiliation masking her usually pretty features. “He taunts me with pictures of my son that Ben shows him! Whenever he sees a woman who looks similar to me and arouses his interests, he abducts, tortures and kills them. He said he does it because the women tried to seduce him by mirroring their appearance after me! He’s crazy! Please, you have to stop him, please!” Lillian begged. She was pale faced and sobbing on her knees with her arms wrapped tightly around her chest. Ray could tell that Lillian had been through a lot, and was victimized even more than the other women who had died at her husband’s hand. She knew about everything, and Ray had a feeling she knew where he did it as well. “Lillian, I need to ask you one more thing.” Ray said as calmly and soothingly as possible.     Sarah woke once more to the sound of a chair rocking near the other side of the room. Suppressing the urge to scream, Sarah opened her eyes and found herself looking at the man she had come to know as Officer Lemmon. Of all the people she had suspected, Lemmon was not one of them. She had dismissed him as being too grouchy and uninterested to have been the man they were looking for. How much more wrong could she have been? Sarah looked at Lemmon, or Derrick Martin, or whatever he chose to call himself. He sat in the rocking chair by the fireplace rocking gently and smiling at her in the firelight.      “Why?” Sarah whispered brokenly. She had trusted this man once. How could it be him? Lemmon’s smile only broadened, baring his teeth before he finally laughed. “Ah, Sarah, you’ve been a bad girl. I handed you the case against Josh Taylor on a silver platter and you just had to go over it with a fine tooth comb. How very stupid of you. That’s the reason your life’s in peril now, you know? All because you couldn’t just present the case all wrapped up in a neat little package like it was when you got it.” Sarah felt her heart begin to race. She knew he was going to kill her, but if there was any chance of being rescued, she had to try to keep him talking. At least that would give Ray a fighting chance at finding her and capturing this psychopath.      “I don’t understand. Why did you frame Josh? He’s your brother-in-law.” She struggled to rasp out. Her throat was sore from the chloroform, and speaking felt like rubbing a cheese grater against the back of her throat. Lemmon just looked at her as if she were absolutely unbelievable. “Why? You’re really going to ask that one, are you? Josh was in my way. My lovely little wife is too close to that brother of hers. I figure if he takes the rap then I get rid of him in a way that Lillian won’t forget any time soon.” His maniacal logic was hard for Sarah to follow. She couldn’t understand why a husband would be jealous of his wife’s brother, but nothing about this man made any sense. There was one thing she desperately needed to know, even if that meant trying to decipher his crazy riddles for logic. “Why’d you do it?” His smile broadened once more. “Oh, Sarah, now that is a truly excellent question.”     Ray called Agent Wilson on his frantic drive to the cabin Lillian Taylor had described. The cabin rested at the end of an old dirt road up between Bolton and Lake George. It was secluded, nestled in the trees about a hundred yards from the lakeshore. Wilson decided to coordinate with local authorities and strike while they still had a chance of recovering Sarah alive. “Listen Ray, I know you feel you need to be in on this one, but you can’t okay? The young woman has no idea who you really are and if it comes out in the presence of the wrong company then this whole case could be blown to bits. Stay back on this one and let the locals and agents I’ve deployed handle it.” Ray gritted his teeth, but he knew Wilson was right. Ray cursed as he pulled off the road and parked in a gas station parking lot close to where the cabin was located. Frustrated, he lit a cigarette and cursed that too. Instead of doing nothing, he decided to follow up on Corrine, Jessica Hewitt, and Donald while he paced back and forth in front of the idling car.      Sarah’s fear of the man in front of her only grew as he explained his motives. “When I see a woman dressed and made up to look like Lillian, I know that she is trying to tempt me, to seduce me away from my wife, just like my step mother did with my father. Women like that are dirty. They should be punished. Just like my step mother was punished.” Lemmon smiled satisfactorily and Sarah shuddered. Was his step mother his first victim? “What did she do to you to make you hate her so much? Your stepmother, what did she do?” Sarah rasped out.     Lemmon paused in his rocking and turned a glare on Sarah. “She seduced my father away from my mother. Together, they poisoned my mother and placed me in the foster care system in Brooklyn. When I was old enough, I ran away from the foster home I was in and punished my step mother for what she did. My father was so overtaken with grief and fear that he left. He walked away from everything. He lost what he claimed to love. Her. I punished him by taking her away.” Lemmon grew very distant, staring into the fire for several moments. When Sarah opened her mouth to ask him something else, he was across the room in seconds. His hands were around her throat, squeezing as he shouted at her. “No more questions! No more! Its time to accept punishment for your mettling Sarah! Should have just accepted the case!” He yelled while he squeezed her throat tighter and tighter. Sarah couldn’t breathe. Panic rose within her. This was it. She was going to die. Black spots danced across her vision with a bright light at the edges. Sarah’s world began to go black when the door was kicked in.      Men in black SWAT wear rushed into the tiny room, and Lemmon threw Sarah aside like a rag doll. He tried reaching for something in his pocket when a loud bang sounded. A gun. Sarah knew the sound even though it seemed so distant. She watched as her captor collapsed on the floor, dead. The man who had fired the fatal shot came over and leaned over her. That’s when Sarah’s world went completely and utterly black. Chapter 9     Sarah woke with a ringing in her ears and the sound of beeping nearby. She opened her eyes to find that she was laying in a hospital bed with a heart monitor hooked to her finger, an IV line in her hand, and an oxygen mask over her mouth and nose. The mask brought a horrible memory to the surface, and she began to panic. Her heart rate began to rise, and she started to hyperventilate.     Suddenly, a hand gripped her own, and a face swam in to her vision. Josh. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him smiling. “Take it easy. I almost lost you once, I’m not about to again.” He smiled, and Sarah could see tears in his eyes. She tried to speak, but found that her throat was in so much pain she couldn’t speak around it. “Shh, it’s okay. I have someone outside who can explain it right okay? Let me go get him.” Josh smiled nervously and stepped to the door, gesturing someone in to the room. Ray.      Sarah brightened. Ray looked like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He sat down carefully on the edge of her ben and put his hand over hers, smiling softly at her. “You did a great job hanging on, Sarah.” He said, tears in his eyes too. “I know you probably want to hear all that we know, but I think you should get your rest first.” He started to get up, but Sarah grabbed his hand and shook her head no. He smiled again, humor dancing in his eyes. “You’d rather know now, I see. Very well then.”      “Craig Lewis, the man you knew as Officer Lemmon, was a former detective in Manhattan but lost his job due to several assault charges filed against him by women. He grew up in the foster care system after his mother had died as a result of an overdose on prescription antidepressants. Thought to be a suicide, but after a closer look it was apparent that was a homicide. After being relieved of his duties, Lewis found and became obsessed with Josh’s sister. He stalked her, forced her to leave her fiancée and son behind.” Ray continued to tell her more about Craig Lewis. He had lied to Josh and Teresa telling them he worked as a coroner’s assistant because that’s who the real Gary Lemmon was. Lewis killed him and took his identity so he could become a police officer in Albany County. That was how he had planted evidence. Ray explained it all, and what he couldn’t explain, Josh filled in for him.     “There are a few things I thought you might like to know, on a much happier note. Corrine and her grandmother have returned to their home safely. Jessica Hewitt and her ex-husband have been reunited and she is recovering quite well from her ordeal. They wanted to thank you for not giving up and simply accepting that which was handed to you. Lillian has been reunited with Ben and their son, and though she needs extensive therapy, she’s doing a lot better. Your man here has made a full recovery, and Donald is awake, alert, and expected to make a full recovery as well. It was Craig Lewis who had run him off the road that night as I’m sure you already suspected. Oh, and there is one more little thing I should probably tell you.” Ray smiled mischeiviously.      Ray explained that he was an undercover FBI agent investigating the case after Donald had made a call several weeks before. He had to maintain his cover, even with her, so it didn’t blow their case, though there was no case now that the real killer is dead. Sarah smiled, finally able to relax knowing that it was all over. Josh smiled down at her and took her hand in his, making her heart soar. Now that it was all over, Sarah was free to pursue life without a regret. The killer was gone, they had brought Jessica home alive, and Donald was going to make it. Sarah wondered if it was possible for things to get any better. Smiling while she looked out the hospital window at the sun setting over the city, she couldn’t imagine anything better. Epilogue     Sarah made a full recovery and was able to return home, where Josh planned to spend every minute he could with her. Donald was finally able to go home after a month of care in the hospital. He and Ray stopped by to visit Sarah and Josh frequently after they had all become so close. Lillian and Ben reconciled and she was able to raise her son with the man she truly loved. Jessica Hewitt remarried her ex-husband and asked Sarah to be her maid of honor. The wedding was beautiful, and Sarah couldn’t help but hope there would be wedding bells in her future with Josh. For now, she was simply happy loving him, but it never hurt to hope. The End