Page 4 of Night Moves
No. No.Hewasthe police. He could talk his way out of this or get whoever responded to cover up for him. But Natalie couldn’t just grab all these items and take them with her.
Pictures.She needed to take pictures of Tracey’s things. He couldn’t get someone to cover up Natalie’s pictures. She fumbled to get out her phone and snapped several shots. Her hands shook so badly that she took the time to check the photos.
One by one. They were clear and sharp.Good. Good.
She charged across the room, but the tool laden workbench caught her eye and stopped her. Did it hold the murder weapon?
He’d used a sharp object to kill her sister, Gina. Drugged her first then stabbed her in the heart. Brutally. Viciously. Same for the other three women The Clipper had killed. Likely a knife, but the ME couldn’t be one hundred percent positive.
Had Kirk left the murder weapon behind for his next kill?Ifhe had one planned. She ran her gaze over the tools. Sets of screwdrivers. A hammer. A battery operated drill and circular saw. Being careful not to touch anything and leave prints, she checked the metal ends. The bits. Blades. Saw no blood.
A metal storage container with small plastic compartments like you’d store nails or screws in caught her attention. The bins were numbered one through twenty-four with neat white labels. Each row held four compartments and there were six rows. She tugged down her sleeve to keep from contaminating the evidence and pulled out the first drawer.
No. Oh no.
She jerked her hand back. Stared. Gasped for air. Her heart fluttered like hummingbird wings.
A bottle of nail polish lay in the drawer. Pink. Pale Pink.Angelic. The name and brand of polish The Clipper used on Gina after he’d stabbed her to death.
Natalie gulped in a breath. She didn’t want to look in the other drawers. She wanted to flee like she hoped Tracey had done. Maybe she discovered this bin too, and that’s why Kirk killed her.
Natalie stepped back.No. No. She had to look. For Gina. For the other women. For Tracey.
One at a time across the top, she pulled them out.
Angelic. Chameleon. Bewitching. Vixen.
The same colors The Clipper had applied to his victims, arranged in the order in which he’d killed them. Not information released to the public, but when she’d visited a detective to talk about a client, she’d overheard another detective on the phone discussing if the polish names meant anything.
Angelic. Chameleon. Bewitching. Vixen.The right names. The right order. Four women dead.
Oh my gosh.Natalie was right.
Her phone rang. She jumped, and it almost went flying. Shocked to get a signal down here, she glanced at the screen.
Kirk’s name burned on her screen.
No. Oh no. No. No. No.
She stared. Frozen. Deciding. She had to answer. To know where he was and when he’d be home.
The serial killer. Coming here.
She tapped the screen, forced calm into her tone. “How are things going at the ER?”
Her voice shook only a little, but her hand was trembling like a frightened kitten.
“Just finished.” His booming voice held his usual confidence, not the uncertainty of his earlier call. “I’ll grab a cab and be home in twenty minutes.”
Twenty minutes.She shot a look around the room. Twenty minutes until a brutal killer of women showed up at the door—her sister’s killer showed up at the door.
“The children are all asleep, so no need to rush.” She tried to act cheerful, but her voice came out sounding like Minnie Mouse. “I’m just watching a show on my phone.”
“Okay.” He sounded confused, and it wasn’t surprising. Why would she tell him what she was doing?
“See you soon.” She disconnected the call before she said anything else that might make him suspicious.
Now what?
