Proof of Life. Laura Scott

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СКАЧАТЬ ringing of her doorbell echoed through the house, breaking the moment. She swallowed hard and pushed away from the counter, crossing over to the living room to open the front door.

      The officers who stood there had their respective IDs ready, which she carefully inspected before allowing Officers Kappas and Jones inside.

      “Murphy?” Jones, the taller of the two, frowned when he recognized Quinn. “Haven’t seen you since your old man’s funeral.” His gaze landed on Shanna, frankly curious. “I—uh—didn’t know you were involved with anyone.”

      Funeral? Shanna glanced at Quinn in surprise, but then flushed when she realized the two officers assumed she and Quinn were a couple. “He’s a friend,” she said quickly.

      The last thing she needed were rumors going around about her and Quinn. How embarrassing that would be.

      “We were at Karly’s Kitchen last night when Ms. Dawson saw a man loitering by her car,” Quinn said, as if sensing her discomfort. “I didn’t see him, but we found a white envelope with her name printed on the front in block letters, stuck under her windshield.”

      She was grateful Quinn cut to the chase, putting the interview back on track.

      “Ms. Dawson has received other notes, as well.” He picked up the three notes she’d left on the counter and handed them to the officers. “Shanna, when did you get the first note?”

      “Two weeks ago.” She explained how the first note had actually showed up in her mailbox down at the CSI lab. The message read “Guilty as charged,” so she hadn’t really thought too much about it. “I guess I figured the sender was just someone dealing with a lot of anger. The second and third ones, though, were in my mailbox here at home.”

      Her personal space. Her haven.

      “You dusted for fingerprints?” Kappas asked.

      “I’m a CSI—of course I dusted for prints. Didn’t find any, though. I also tried to narrow down the source of the paper, but it’s carried everywhere.” She lifted her palms helplessly. “Really, this could be related to any one of my cases, although the one I just wrapped up, the Markoviack murder, is the most likely one.”

      “Did the man by your car look at all familiar?” Jones took over the questioning.

      “I only caught a glimpse, but didn’t recognize him at all.”

      “You mentioned this being related to one of your cases, like the Markoviack murder. Why does that one stand out in your mind?” Kappas asked.

      She quickly explained about the last big case she’d worked on, how her evidence put Jessica Markoviack in prison. Both officers exchanged a look and agreed that Jessica’s former boyfriend was a possible culprit.

      “Where’s the fourth note now?” Jones asked.

      She glanced at Quinn. “We left it beneath the windshield wiper. My car is in the garage.” Leading the way out the side door, to the detached garage where her Toyota Camry was parked, she gestured to the car.

      The officers looked at the note, then used gloved hands to remove it from beneath the wiper blade. She took out her fingerprint kit and dusted both the note and the windshield for prints.

      There weren’t any, just like the previous notes.

      Jones opened the flap and removed the note. They crowded around to see what it said. “Next time, you’ll be alone,” Jones read out loud.

      “I don’t get it,” Quinn muttered. “How did he know you were with me?”

      She couldn’t suppress a shiver, fear congealing in the bottom of her stomach. “Because he’s watching me.”

      Kappas and Jones exchanged a grim look. “I’ll recommend increased surveillance of this neighborhood, ma’am,” Jones said.

      Sending a patrol car through every couple hours wasn’t going to prevent this guy from trying to get her, but she understood they were doing the best they could. “That’s fine.”

      “No, it’s not,” Quinn argued bluntly. “If this guy is watching you, he’ll know to hide from the police. You need a bodyguard. Or at least a comprehensive security system.”

      “Maybe.” She didn’t want to admit his idea had merit. “I’ll think about it.”

      Quinn looked as if he wanted to argue, but instead he turned toward the officers. “Anything else?”

      “Ms. Dawson might want to find a friend to stay with for a while,” Officer Jones said. “Being here alone is asking for trouble.”

      Friends? She almost laughed. The only real friend she had was Megan O’Ryan, and she’d recently moved to Crystal Lake, Wisconsin. Megan had just gotten married, and after everything her friend had been through, Shanna couldn’t bring herself to dump her own troubles on Megan’s shoulders. Megan had barely survived being strangled by a serial killer. Worse, the killer was someone they knew. Raoul Lee was a brilliant scientist. Now he’d spend the rest of his life in jail. The cops waited expectantly, so she nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

      The officers left, promising to be in touch if they found anything.

      “I’ll follow you to work.” Quinn’s tone didn’t leave room for discussion.

      His persistence was starting to annoy her. But rather than arguing, she gathered her work stuff together, including her shoulder holster. She sensed Quinn’s frustration as he stood watching her. Before she could get out the door, her cell phone rang.

      She recognized Alan’s number from the lab. Setting her laptop case on the kitchen table, she answered the phone. “Do you have something for me, Al?”

      “Yeah, uh, we got a hit on one of the fingerprints found at your college frat house crime scene.”

      A hit on the fingerprints was good news. “Who is it?” she asked eagerly, glancing at Quinn. An identity would get them one step closer to finding the killer.

      “Are you on your way here? Because I think we should talk in person.” He cleared his throat loudly. “The news is going to be a bit of a shock.”

      His tap-dancing around the issue only irritated her. “Just tell me.”

      There was a pause. “Shanna, we have a set of fingerprints matching a child who’s been missing for fourteen years.”

      A child? Missing for fourteen years? No. Oh, no. Her stomach twisted, and little red dots swam in her vision. She grabbed the edge of the kitchen table and pushed the word through her tight throat. “Who?”

      “Your sister. Skylar Dawson.”

      THREE

      Shanna blinked, staring up at Quinn’s anxious face looming over her. The kitchen floor was hard and unyielding beneath her back. Disoriented, she winced and lifted her head. “What happened?”

      “You fainted.” Quinn’s gruff tone betrayed his concern.

      “Fainted?” СКАЧАТЬ