She allowed herself a moment to regroup, staring out at Monterey Bay.In the distance she could see the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk, the iconic 116-year-old amusement park at the ocean’s edge that had been made famous in the 1980s movie,The Lost Boys.The picture-perfect postcard that was the view from her balcony calmed her, if only slightly.
She headed downstairs quietly, hoping to potentially eavesdrop on Officer Herrera’s conversation and find out what the authorities had in store for her.Herrera had warned her that she would probably need to pack a bag at some point but had her hold off until he knew more.
She listened intently but heard nothing.Maybe the call was over and he’d gone back outside.She got to the bottom of the stairs and started for the kitchen to get her water.But then she had a change of heart.If Herrera was in the foyer, maybe he was whispering to avoid being heard.She went that way instead.
She rounded the corner and stopped in her tracks.Officer Herrera was lying flat on his back, right in front of the slightly open front door.But that wasn’t the worst of it.Blood was gurgling out of his neck.It looked like his throat had been cut.
Nicole was about to scream when she saw that his body was convulsing.He still seemed to be alive but she didn’t know for how much longer.After what felt like an eternity but was probably only a second or two, she decided to try to help him.
She was just taking a step forward when she heard what sounded like radio static right as she felt a stinging sensation in her back.Without warning her whole body seized up.She felt a mix of terror and helplessness as she watched the foyer floor come up to meet her face.
The pain of the collision was mitigated by the numbness she felt.Frozen other than involuntary quivering, she sensed herself being rolled over onto her back.Through squinted, watery eyes, she saw someone hovering over her.Now she really did try to scream.
But nothing came out.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
Jessie knew something was wrong even before the jet’s wheels touched down in Santa Cruz.
Webb had gotten a call as they were making their final descent.He listened intently with his mouth open wide enough to catch flies.After about twenty seconds, he spoke.
“Yes, I’ll wait,” he said quietly, then looked over at her.“Nicole Thorington is dead.So is the officer who was guarding her.”
Jessie felt her mouth go dry.A combination of guilt and anger filled her.She’d assumed that no killer would be so brazen as to attack one of Jason Mannix’s “wives” when she had the police right there at her home.But why would someone who had slit the throats of two women in two days suddenly be guided by caution?She should have known better.
“Killed the same way?”she asked.
He nodded as the jet wheels hit the runway.
“Both of their throats were cut.I didn’t ask them to check for taser marks but I think they’re a safe bet,” he said, then stopped talking as the person on the line had apparently resumed speaking.
Jessie turned away from him.The guilt was giving way to anger now.The person responsible for these crimes was pitiless.She imagined each of these victims, immobile but still conscious, watching as the knife was placed against their throat, powerless to protect themselves.
The familiar pit of fury in her gut started to make its way up to her chest.Sensing its creeping power, Jessie closed her eyes and took a deep breath.Then she opened them again and looked out the window of the jet, hoping to find something small to focus on; something that could absorb and diminish her rage.
Her eyes settled on a bird of some kind that was hopping along on the grass beside the runway.She thought it might be a seagull but didn’t know enough to say for sure.Rather than guess, she focused instead on its spindly legs, which somehow supported its weight as it bounced enthusiastically beside the slowing jet.Then it stopped.
Without warning it dipped its beak into the grass and triumphantly pulled out a worm, which it tossed in the air, and then swallowed in one satisfied gulp.After a second, the happy hopping resumed.
Jessie glanced back from the window to Webb, who had just hung up.The fury in her chest had mostly faded, replaced by something closer to quiet determination.She was grateful for the alternative.
“What did they say?”she asked.
Webb swallowed hard before speaking, reminding her a little of the bird outside.He looked visibly rattled.He was still holding his phone, repeatedly squeezing it and then loosening his grip.His eyes were fluttering and it looked like he might faint.
“What did they say, Webb?”she repeated, hoping to snap him out of whatever this was.
“The officer watching Thorington—his name was Herrera—was talking to his supervisor on the phone when he was attacked.I guess the supervisor could hear the phone fall and then a gasping sound soon after.He sent a patrol car to the scene immediately.The unit arrived less than four minutes after the call went out.But by then, both of them were dead and the suspect was gone.”
“I assume CSU and the medical examiner are there?”
“On their way,” he said vaguely.“This all happened less than a half hour ago.”
“Okay,” she said.“Then let’s get over there as fast as we can.Maybe in the rush to get out of the house, the killer was sloppier than at the other scenes.”
Webb nodded absently as his eyes clouded over.She didn’t know what was up with the guy but she needed him to snap out of it.
“What’s the problem, Webb?”she demanded.
