“I’ve given up trying to figure out why killers do what they do.” He hesitated again. “But I’m leaning more toward a copycat. There are a lot of sick people out there, and the story got plenty of press. With the tenth anniversary coming up in three months, I believe it’s bringing out the lunatics.”
“So, you think the emails are empty threats?” Jodi hated to sound disappointed. Hated even more that she was disappointed that it might be true. It sickened her to think the truth had already played out.
And that her father had left her for dead.
“Copycat threats aren’t always empty,” Gabriel corrected. “That’s why I don’t want you out here. Not alone anyway. If you want to try to jog your memory again, call me, and I’ll have someone meet you.”
Jodi probably should be insulted because she was an expert marksman and trained in hand-to-hand combat. She could protect herself.
Probably.
And it was the fact that the probably was not a certainty that kept her up at night.
She turned, ready to head back to her car, but something caught her eye. Some movement in one of the second-floor windows. Gabriel must have seen it, too, because he stepped in front of her.
And he drew his gun.
Jodi pulled her weapon, too. “Should there be anyone in the house?” she asked.
“No.” That time he absolutely didn’t hesitate, and Gabriel started toward the porch. “Before you jump to conclusions, it’s probably just a teenager out for a stupid thrill. Or maybe a reporter. Either way, you should go to your car now.”
“Just in case it turns out to be something more than a teen or a reporter, I can back you up if you’re going inside.”
Which he apparently was.
Gabriel didn’t turn down her offer of backup. Didn’t order her to her car again, either. Maybe because he figured she could be attacked while heading to the road. It was obvious he was thinking this was more than just a false alarm. Of course, after those threatening emails, Jodi doubted there was anything false about it, either.
Mercy. Was the killer here?
That sent her heartbeat racing, the sound of it throbbing in her ears. The memories came. Too many of them too fast. She had to force them back into that little box she’d built in her mind. This was no time for a panic attack. Not in front of a killer.
Not in front of Gabriel, either.
He took slow, cautious steps, his gaze firing not just to the window but all around them. “I’m Sheriff Gabriel Beckett,” he called out. “You’re trespassing. Come out with your hands in the air.”
Nothing.
It was hard to hear because of her racing pulse and the breeze rattling through the live oaks, but Jodi thought she heard someone moving around inside. There were plenty of windows on the back part of the house that the intruder could use to escape. But maybe he didn’t have escape in mind.
Maybe this would turn into another attempt to murder her.
If so, she was ready.
“Stay behind me,” Gabriel insisted. “And watch our backs.”
She did, and Jodi continued to keep an eye out as they made their way up the steps to the porch. But as soon as Gabriel reached the top step, he stopped.
Then, he froze.
Jodi was near enough to him to sense the muscles tensing in his body. And she soon realized why.
Her heart jumped to her throat. “Oh, mercy.” Jodi shook her head and inched closer. Not that she needed to be closer to realize what she was seeing.
A knife.
With a crescent-shaped blade. The tip was missing.
And there was blood on it.
Even before he saw the knife. Gabriel had already had a bad feeling. He’d gotten it the moment he laid eyes on Jodi because she should be nowhere near this place. Now, that bad feeling turned to something much worse.
Hell.
Just to be sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him, he took another look at what someone had left on the porch just about two feet to the left side of the door. No tricks. It was the knife all right. Or rather, a knife.
“That blood on it isn’t dry,” Jodi pointed out. Her voice was trembling just a little, but Gabriel had to hand it to her because she was holding herself together.
On the outside anyway.
On the inside, he figured it was a whole different story. If it was indeed the knife that had killed his parents, then it was the same one the killer had used on Jodi.
“It could be fake blood,” Gabriel reminded her.
There was no way he would touch it to find out, though. Since the tip was missing, this was either the actual weapon that had killed his parents or else someone had broken off the end of the blade so that it would resemble it.
But there was a problem with that.
The missing tip that the surgeon had removed from Jodi’s body hadn’t been mentioned in any of the police reports. Nor was the fact that the killer had taken his father’s watch and his mother’s necklace. Those were just a few of the little details that the FBI had left out in case some nutjob tried to confess to the crime. So, either someone had hacked into those actual reports, or...
Gabriel didn’t want to speculate about an or just yet.
While keeping his attention on their surroundings, Gabriel took his phone from his pocket and texted Jameson. He told him that he needed his help and for him to call a CSI to come and take custody of this knife. Jameson was at his house and could be there in a couple of minutes.
Bringing in his brother was better than waiting for the deputies to come in from the sheriff’s office. Besides, Jameson was a Texas Ranger and the best backup Gabriel could have. Once Jameson arrived, maybe they could keep Jodi out of this. Of course, the problem was that she was here and therefore already in the middle of it.
Whatever it was.
This could still be a prank, and Gabriel was holding on to that hope. Over the years the house had become a magnet for daredevil kids, ghost hunters and pretty much anyone warped enough to want to see an old crime scene. That’s how the windows had gotten broken and the boards sprayed with graffiti.
Gabriel tested the doorknob. Locked, just as it should be, and he used his key to open it. He pushed open the door, had a look around and got an instant punch of the musty smell and the dust. An instant punch of the memories, too.
He hated this place.
Hated that it still felt like an open, raw wound. A cut so deep that it would never heal. It was no doubt the same for Jodi. Even though she hadn’t lost her parents that day, it had been just as costly for her.
In plenty of ways, she’d lost herself.
For just a moment he got a flash of another memory. Of the smiling nineteen-year-old who’d shown up at his house that night. She’d been wearing cutoff denim shorts, a snug red top and had looked far better than a girl had a right to look.
He pushed that memory aside, too. He’d lost himself that night, as well. Because he hadn’t protected her. He hadn’t saved his parents, and while Jodi had lived, he darn sure hadn’t saved her, either.
Gabriel didn’t see anyone in either of the two rooms just off the entry. Nor did he hear anyone. He ducked under the crisscross of