Part 37 (1/2)
”Step out here first,” Dominic ordered.
Paul shuffled out from behind the dumpster, arms still raised. A mewling cry followed after him.
Serena asked, ”What's back there?”
Dominic motioned for Paul to lower his arms. He did and ran a hand down his lab coat before closing his eyes briefly. ”Okay, Dorie, game's up.”
Dorie popped out, her hair now a bright orange, a sheepish smile gracing her lips. ”We've been . . . um . . . feeding these kittens.” She held up a small ball of kitten that had just started getting its fur.
Eyes wide, Serena stepped around them to peer behind the dumpster. Reaching into the small box, she cupped her hand under one of the gray and black kittens. ”Aw, how precious.”
Dominic put his weapon away, his adrenaline rush returning to somewhere near normal. ”Kittens?”
Paul gave an embarra.s.sed shrug as he shared a glance with Dorie. ”I saw the mama cat get hit by a car two days ago as I was leaving the morgue. When I bent over her to see if there was anything I could do for her, I spotted the babies under the dumpster.”
”Why didn't you just take them to the shelter?”
His jaw tightened. ”I called the shelter and they said they were so overrun with kittens, they would probably have to put them down. I didn't want that to happen and I can't take them home because my roommate's allergic. So,” he held up a teeny bottle filled with milk and smirked, ”just call me-and Dorie-mom and dad.”
Serena placed a hand over her heart. ”You two nearly scared me to death. Why didn't you answer when I called out?”
He flushed again. ”I was hoping you would just think it was a mouse or something you heard and keep going.” He lasered a glare at Dominic. ”I didn't know we'd nearly get shot.”
”Sorry, we've been a little jumpy lately,” she said.
”You won't tell anyone what we've been doing, will you?” Dorie frowned at her. ”We're using our break times to do this, not work time.”
Serena held up a hand. ”I won't say a word, I promise.”
Dominic asked Paul, ”Will you see she gets inside safely?”
”Sure. I was finished up here anyway.”
Dominic had asked Paul to see Serena inside, but he waited until they entered the building before heading for his car. His nerves gave one last shudder before settling down.
They were jumping at shadows. Her nerves were just as tight as his.
Kittens.
If only all of his ”scares” would turn out to be so harmless.
As he slid into the driver's seat, his phone rang and he s.n.a.t.c.hed it, praying someone had a lead somewhere.
Special Agent Jeff Brown said, ”I think I've tracked your father to a shelter in Rock Hill, South Carolina.”
”Give me the address.” He headed toward the office while he processed this new information. Another lead on his father. A real one or another dead end? His gut clenched even as he told himself there was no sense in getting worked up about it now. He had other things to worry about first.
After Dominic hung up with Jeff, he placed a call to Hunter and gave him the information. ”I want to go with you. When are you leaving?”
”Let me check with Alexia and get back to you. It'll be fast, though-if that's really him, I don't want to miss him. He moves frequently.”
”I'll have a couple of agents pick him up.”
Hunter hesitated. ”We don't really have a reason to do that.”
”He's a possible suspect in a kidnapping and attempted murder. I think we have reason.”
”Fine. Have your agents bring him to the office. I'll be there for the next several hours.”
Dominic pulled into the parking lot and shut off the engine. He called the FBI office in Charlotte, North Carolina, as he made his way to his desk. He told them what he needed and they promised to dispatch someone immediately to pick the man up.
Dominic felt his adrenaline pus.h.i.+ng his concentration levels through the floor, but he forced himself to focus on the task at hand. He found Howard's file and opened it, looking for what he suspected. This was the whole reason he wanted to come into the office on this Sunday.
What interested him the most were the letters from Allison Kingston. A woman who seemed to have disappeared from the face of the earth. The post office box had been closed with no forwarding address. He looked at the writing, read the a.n.a.lysis from the expert one more time.
Could it be?
He scrambled for his phone and punched in the number for Rick's personal cell.
”Why are you calling me on my day off?”
”I need a favor.”
”Of course you do.”
”Seriously. Can you fax over a copy of the serial killer's notes? I want to compare them to the handwriting of a woman who's been visiting Drake in prison.”
Rick said, ”Well, I guess you'd better be glad that I decided to come into the office on my day off. I'll have it to you in less than five minutes.”
”Thanks, buddy.”
Dominic hung up the phone and walked over to the fax machine. His mind hummed and his blood spun in his veins. What if he was right?
What if he was wrong?
He'd know in a few minutes.
The fax machine purred to life and Dominic waited with an impatient tapping of his fingers against his left thigh. Finally, the paper spit into the tray and he s.n.a.t.c.hed it. Looked at it, then raced back to his office to confirm what he already knew.
Allison Kingston was the one leaving the packages. Allison Kingston was their serial killer.
But who was her partner?
Serena made the Y-incision, her blade effortlessly gliding through the upper torso of the fifty-seven-year-old female who'd been found dead in her apartment last night. An empty bottle of pain pills told the story, but the woman's sister insisted it had to be murder-by the deceased woman's husband.
Serena would provide the official diagnosis after the autopsy.