He leaned back against the bed frame, taking out the lock of Casey Woods’s hair and rubbing each silky red strand between his fingers.
The contact felt good.
The real thing would feel better.
* * *
Casey lay quietly in Hutch’s arms, listening to the sounds of the city outside her window, yet hearing only the cries of pain that her mind conjured up—cries that Deirdre Grimes must have made before they were choked into silence.
For reasons she couldn’t explain, Casey had insisted on visiting the crime scene. Hutch had gone with her. The crime scene unit was still at the dorm room, as was Robbie the pizza guy, who looked green at the gills. He’d answered the detectives’ questions, but had agreed to hang around for a while, just in case something else turned up that he might be able to help with. The poor guy was a wreck. He couldn’t pull it together, nor could he stop staring at the bloodstain.
Casey didn’t blame him. The image was horrible. What it implied was worse.
Sure enough, Deirdre’s body was found in the exact alley near Tompkins Square Park where Glen Fisher had attacked Casey last year. She’d been posed just the same as the others, right down to the red ribbon, lipstick and the lock of hair. The hair would be checked for DNA. They all knew that the DNA would belong to the killer’s previous victim. The only difference between Deirdre’s murder and the previous murders was the evidence of blood at the crime scene. The police were certain the bloodstain they’d found on Deirdre’s dorm room rug would match the bloodstain on the tarp she’d been wrapped in and the clumps of blood that were matted in her hair. She’d put up one hell of a fight, and it was clear that the killer had had to slam her head against the floor repeatedly to gain control of the situation.
In the end, her brave struggles hadn’t mattered. The killer had won. Deirdre was dead.
Casey closed her eyes, bombarded by feelings of rage, anguish and guilt.
“It’s not your fault,” Hutch murmured. “You’re on his victim list, too.”
“How did you know what I was thinking?”
Hutch reached for her hand, which was on his chest, her fingernails digging into his skin. “Because you’re stabbing me. You only do that when you’re angry at yourself.”
She smiled faintly. “Sorry.” Casey relaxed her hand. “But how can I not blame myself? Deirdre—as well as the others—they were all killed because of me.”
“You did everything in your power to stop it. Deirdre was on the list of redheads you know that you made up for Marc,” Hutch reminded her. “In fact, almost all the victims were on that list. And we ran checks on every one of those young women—to see if they were being followed, harassed, even in a bad relationship. They all came up clean.”
“Yet they all wound up dead,” Casey said. “How many more of them are there going to be?”
“My guess? One. Someone to dump near Marc’s place and complete the circle. After that...”
“After that, it’s my turn.” Casey finished his thought.
“It’s not going to happen.” Hutch had that hard edge to his voice.
“We don’t know, Hutch.” Casey spoke softly. “He’s good. And between his skill and Fisher’s direction—we might not be able to stop it.”
Hutch rolled Casey onto her back, gazing down at her with fire in his eyes. “We’ll stop it. I’ll stop it. However good he is, I’m better. And I’m not going to lose you. So don’t even think of going down that path.”
Casey smiled and gave a sarcastic salute. “Yes, sir, Supervisory Special Agent Hutchinson. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Hutch didn’t smile back. “You threw Fisher off his game when you got in his face. He’ll make a mistake.”
“He’s not the one doing the killing—at least not currently.”
“But he’s the lynch pin. If he screws up, his partner will screw up.”
“We still don’t know the connection between them—or even who this supposed partner is.”
“We will. In the meantime, you’re never alone. No one can get at you.”
Casey gave a small nod.
“It’s okay to be scared.” Hutch’s tone grew gentle. “I know you keep your emotions locked up tight, but when you’re with me, you can let down your guard.”
“Look who’s talking. You, who are always in total control.”