"Molly's love of her life? The man she wants to marry?"
"This could go so bad," May muttered, thinking of the catastrophic consequences if they couldn't save him. How Molly would feel. She’d feel she’d caused her lover’s death. How Jack would feel, knowing they hadn’t figured it out in time.
“This killer’s clearly been stalking her for months, very closely, and watching where she goes." May literally felt as if her world was about to implode. "So, where is Ron? We need to get to him, fast. Before this murderer can. We need to warn him!"
May was breathless with the pressure. Molly, Sheriff Jack's only child, had fallen in love with the man of her dreams at last, but the stalker that she'd politely rejected many years ago was now proving to be a psychopath who was going to rip him away from her.
It felt as if she’d landed in the most terrible nightmare she’d ever had.
"I'm going to call the police department straight away and get information on him," May said. “I’ll ask the police to meet us at his house too.”
But, as she did that, she realized there was a quicker way.
"While I do that, Owen, you call Molly. She'll know his details. Just ask her where he is. Where he lives. And above all, his phone number. Whoever of us can get this information first will be closer to saving him."
"Right. Okay. I'll call you back as soon as I have anything," Owen replied. May was already dialing the emergency phone number for the police.
"Police department," a clipped, professional voice answered just a few seconds later.
"Yes, May Moore here. I need some urgent information. Ron Shepstone, who is a lecturer at the Tamarack University. His details, his address, his phone number. As fast as you can."
May heard the woman's fingers tapping on a computer keyboard in an urgent rhythm. At the same moment, she heard her phone beep. That meant Owen had come through with some information.
"Okay, here we go. Shepstone, Ron. Lives at Salmon Hill Cottage, which is in an outlying area between Southbrook and the university campus. I have a landline number for him."
"Do you have a cell number?"
"No. I don't."
“Please can you send a police car there as soon as possible. We believe this man’s life could be in serious danger.”
“We’ll do that, Deputy,” the police officer promised.
At least she had an address. And Owen had also gotten hold of a cell number. He’d sent a message along with it.
“I tried to call that cell number as soon as I got it, but it was busy."
"I'll keep trying. And let's get there as fast as we can."
The place was equidistant from where they both were now. If you drew two diagonal lines, you'd end up there. It was in a small, park-like suburb a few miles from the university and on the outskirts of town.
If she drove like a demon, she could be there in ten minutes. But May didn't know if it would be soon enough.
As she veered onto the road, she tried the number again. No answer. Straight through to voicemail.
“This is May Moore from the Sheriff’s Department. Ron, please call me urgently. If you hear this message in time, do not go home! Do not go home. Park somewhere safe and call the police.”
She had no idea if he’d listen to the message. What did the lack of response to her call mean? she agonized, twisting the wheel, and darting down a side street in an attempt to avoid the worsening afternoon traffic. Did it mean he was already dead? No, please no, she thought. Hopefully it meant that he was still at the university and in a lecture, or tutoring students.
But May doubted it. If this killer wasn’t home, she knew in her gut that he was waiting, ready to murder again, especially since she’d seen how the frequency of his kills was escalating. They were dealing with a cold-blooded, dangerous, and deadly man who had planned this meticulously, saving what she was sure he felt was the best, for last.
As she took a turn, she glanced at her phone again and redialed. Still nothing.
She tried again, and again, as she drove, but she couldn't get through.
This line of cars in front of her did not help! What was with this traffic? May activated the light on her car, and it did her zero good. There was nowhere for the cars to move to. She saw the driver in front of her shrug helplessly, spreading his hands wide to make sure she saw how utterly trapped he was.
There was no way of getting past him unless she tried this side street. This one could take her on a parallel road. It would be a longer route, but with less traffic, she was willing to risk it. May sped down the road, her hands tight on the wheel. This was a calm, suburban area, and she couldn't speed as fast as she'd like to go, even with her lights on. She couldn't kill anyone else in her efforts to save him. She had to try and get there fast, but safely.
