“I know you’re scared, Millie, but trust that Wyatt and the rest of us know what we’re doing here. He won’t step near this town without us knowing first.” Marco continued to caress her back and hold her tight. She clung to him despite not knowing him well.
Just as he thought that, she began to pull away and wiped the tears from her eyes.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to slobber all over your uniform.” She caressed her hand against his chest as if to wipe her tears away, but all it did was make his body warm and want things he shouldn’t want from a woman he hardly even knew.
“Don’t jump the gun, Millie. Marco is going to stay here with you while Kenny and I inform the others about the situation so they’re all on board. I’m taking your phone with me and calling Flynn so he can look into these texts. If in fact that was Frank texting, then he just incriminated himself. It can also help to establish a timeline. I know that Flynn is contacting Frank’s therapist and the parole board. He’ll be back behind bars in no time,” Wyatt explained.
“He doesn’t care. You read the texts, Wyatt. He was toying with me and he killed Clare so easily just because she hadn’t told him what he wanted to know.”
“Clare didn’t know about Pearl or Stacy and Anna?” Marco asked and she looked up into his eyes and shook her head.
“We worked together but never really hung out until the gala. She had a great personality and we hit it off, but she didn’t know about my personal life. If she did…”
Marco placed his hand on her shoulder.
“It’s not your fault. It’s this asshole’s fault and he will be captured.”
“Let’s hope so,” Millie replied.
Chapter 10
Detective Flynn and his partner, Detective Mario Bower, stood in the examination room at the coroner’s office. The medical examiner, Dr. Lawrence Martin, looked over the various wounds he found on twenty-two-year-old Clare Brown. He announced his findings into a recorder as Flynn and Bower looked on in disgust and sadness. Detective Flynn still couldn’t believe that Frank Bennett had done this and for no apparent reason except to find out where Millie Donovan was hiding. He really shouldn’t be surprised by the brutality of such a man as Frank. However, his behavior didn’t coincide with his therapist Dr. Sheila Perkin’s notes and findings. She stood before the parole board and placed her medical reputation on the line for Bennett and showed medical proof in counseling sessions. Could Frank Bennett have manipulated the therapist? They wouldn’t know the answer to that until they located the doctor. Currently, she was unaccounted for.
“You see these marks right here along the thigh that can also be seen along other parts of the victim’s body?” Dr. Martin asked them.
“Yeah,” Flynn and Bower both replied.
“Well, it appears to be from a knife. However, up here along the breast line and abdomen are more scratch-like gashes.”
“So what are you thinking, doctor?” Flynn asked.
“This woman was tortured for hours. The killer used at least four types of weapons to assault, abuse, and ultimately kill her.”
Flynn gave a disgusted sigh.
“He left a lot of prints at the scene. I’m confident we can gather enough evidence to charge this guy. He won’t be able to run for long. We’ll catch him,” Flynn added.
“That’s good to know, because a person who could commit such a brutal sexual assault like this does not deserve to be alive or living free. May God help you find him quickly.”
* * * *
Millie heard what sounded like trucks pulling up in front of the cottage. It was only seven in the morning and she felt a splitting headache. She glanced toward the nightstand and then covered her head with a pillow. Thoughts of last night’s tragic news resurfaced in her brain. Clare was murdered. Frank killed Clare.
She suddenly smelled coffee and wondered
who would be making coffee in her house. It was more than likely Anna or Stacy. They stayed with her until midnight along with Ben, Charlie, Marco, and Wyatt.
Marco was insisting that he could stay the night on the couch and finally she was so exhausted and sick to her stomach she walked out of the room and went to bed. She didn’t want to argue with him, but he was stubborn as damn hell.
Her eyes popped open under the pillow.
Is he still here? Did he spend the night?
A panicky feeling filled her at the thought. She slowly got out of bed and peeked through a small opening on her bedroom door. Sure as shit, Marco was standing there in casual clothes, sipping a cup of coffee and meeting someone at the front door. His dark jeans stretched across a perfect ass and the material looked plastered against his muscular thighs. She licked her lips and felt her nipples pebble. Damn, he is a fine-looking man.
She felt the tears reach her eyes as she leaned her aching head against the door.
She had the worst luck with men and even if Marco seemed sincere and thoroughly delicious, she couldn’t entertain her attraction to him or any other man. How could she even be thinking such thoughts when Clare was murdered because of her? Clare was dead and Frank was out there somewhere.