Sorry, this one is short. I'll do my best to have another chapter up this weekend
Chapter 7
Dante dropped the letter and sat down heavily in one of the chairs in front of Mac's desk. He felt like he had been kicked in the gut. This couldn't be happening.
"Fucking bastard," Lucky gritted out next to him. Dante saw Lucky's hand gripping the arm of his chair so tightly his knuckles were turning white. As angry as Lucky's words were, fear laced his entire face and posture. Dante knew he wasn't thinking like a cop right now but absolutely like a brother whose sister was in danger. Dante couldn't blame him. He was hanging onto his own objectivity by a thread.
"I want to see the crime scene photos," Dante said finally.
He saw movement from the corner of his eye and Ronnie dropped a folder down on the desk in front of him. He swallowed through the tightness in his throat as he palmed through the images. Just like the last two. A woman barely recognizable with the amount of cuts covering her body. At the thought of that psycho doing this to Lulu, he felt bile rise in the back of his throat but he forced it back. Keep emotion out of it, he told himself over and over. Do your job. But as much as he kept trying to tell himself that, the desire to make this guy bleed was what he wanted, his badge be damned.
"I think someone needs to tell me what the hell is going on," Mac prompted impatiently.
"It fits," Dante murmured. Even though none of the three victims looked like one another, they had a couple of the same overall features – blonde hair of similar lengths, same general body type, and all looked to be in their mid-twenties. In line with the threat in the last letter Lulu got that her stalker was going to "cut her to pieces", yeah, it fit too damn well. But even as much as it "fit", it was almost impossible to wrap his head around the connection between these two cases. Just what kind of a demented piece of shit were they dealing with?
When Lucky remained silent, Dante passed him a look of concern before briefly giving Mac a rundown of everything he knew.
When he finished, the Commissioner frowned. "Lulu's special to a lot of people in this town. We'll throw everyone we can at this. I'm going to need to call in the Feds on this one too. We'll need all the help we can get anyway."
Dante rattled off the names of Lulu's editor, agent, and a couple of people at the publishing company that Lulu mentioned she had contact with. "I want to know all of their whereabouts at the times of the murders. Anyone in the area I want brought in for interviews."
Ronnie nodded and took notes as he spoke. "I'll take care of it."
Dante watched as Lucky rose to his feet, seemed a little shaky. "I need…" He shook his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. "I need to go check on Lulu. If this guy's in town, she's not safe. I can't..."
"Sit down, Spencer" Mac ordered. "Before you fall down. I'll send a car over to your house. I'm not done with you. We need to have a conversation."
"Not a good time," Lucky said, the anger coming back into his voice.
Dante stood up. "I'll go check on her." When Lucky looked hesitant, Dante put a hand on his shoulder briefly. "I'll keep her safe. We'll figure this out."
Finally Lucky nodded before collapsing back into the chair. Dante headed for the door, practically ran out of the station to his car. The short drive seemed to take forever. The rage he kept at bay at the station kept trying to claw its way out. Now wasn't the time to analyze the feelings of possessiveness and protectiveness running through him. But he knew without a doubt that anyone who wanted to hurt Lulu would have to go through him. He dreaded having to tell her what was going on, dreaded seeing that haunted, terrified look pass over her face again. He saw firsthand how scared she was. He'd seen before how fear could be a very paralyzing thing. But if push came to shove, would Lulu be able to defend herself? Fight back? He'd also seen too many times how that could be the difference between life and death.
Lulu shut off the water in the shower and opened the stall door, reaching for a towel to wrap around her body. Grabbing another towel, she started drying her hair as she stepped out. The hot water had felt good beating against her tired muscles. She heard what sounded like a thump thump thump and her brow creased before she opened the bathroom door slightly and realized someone was knocking on the front door. Sighing, she patted her body as dry as possible and slipped on the pink camisole and pajama pants she had hanging on the door.
She walked down the hallway and headed to the front door, pulling it open and then frowning when there was no one standing there.
She didn't see it coming. It happened so fast she didn't even have time to scream. One second she was shutting the door and the next thing she knew, she saw nothing more than a flash as someone pushed the door open with their foot before it closed, pulled her hands behind her back, and pressed her face first against the wall.