Cody sounded slightly bitter.

  May turned away from the window, raising her eyebrows at Owen. He raised his in return, and she knew they were thinking the same thing.

  After a promising start, this witness had fizzled out. He had an alibi for the time the email reply was sent to the police from the cabin in the woods. He didn’t seem like the person they needed, although she was sure that Kerry would check back and go through his timing and where he had been for the two previous kills.

  But she didn't think he was their guy.

  "I think he's either going to end up in jail, or winning a Nobel prize. But I don't think he's the killer," she whispered to Owen.

  "I agree. That's a fairly solid alibi," he said. “The email from the killer was sent in response to police messages and that IP address in the cabin was not faked or concealed. So that timing is a certainty. And that’s too far for Elmer to have driven. I checked and double checked the police report.”

  "I’ve just had another idea," May said. The intuition came to her in a flash, while she’d been thinking back about those two reluctant and embarrassed schoolboys covering for each other.

  "What's your idea?" Owen whispered back.

  "I don't think that Sheila told her husband everything that went on in her work life. I think she might have kept some of it from him because knowing about it would have made him uneasy. I am sure she received a lot of threats. As a criminal lawyer, surely she would have? At any rate, I think we should check that possibility in more detail."

  "Via the police?"

  "Yes. The police might have records. And the law firm also might have kept a log of all the threats. So instead of listening to this interview any longer, how about we go and look into those two possibilities?" May said, and saw Owen nod firmly in agreement.

  They tiptoed out of the interview room and headed for the door.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The Bomber waited in the trees, smiling to himself as he watched the gray-haired woman sail the well-equipped fishing boat over to the pier.

  She loved to fish, and spent most weekday afternoons out on Eagle Lake. He'd gotten a good idea of her routine. He didn't plan on making mistakes, so observation was essential. He had observed her for a few afternoons now.

  This was the time she wrapped up, as it was getting dark. And that suited him just fine. He had structured all his plans around her schedule.

  She was a hard woman, that he saw. Her grim face gave evidence of her past. Even though she was retired now, she had a lot to answer for. He knew that better than anyone.

  He knew she was the one to kill. She was the next one he would settle his scores with, because she had been a huge part of the problem.

  He couldn't wait to set his plans into motion. Silently, he watched as she fastened the boat, tugging the ropes tight. She was very familiar with the boat, and so she should be. For the past few years, being retired, all she’d done was fish.

  That was going to change soon, though, because she would soon be in his sights. He was pleased to be going ahead with this part of his plans. This particular part of his mission was something he had looked forward to for a long time. Not that he’d rushed into it though. He'd imagined the best course of action for many thoughtful hours as he watched from the trees, turning scenarios around in his mind and deciding what the most seamless way would be. This was all part of the thrill, he knew. Waiting, hidden, while considering possibilities in his mind.

  It was essential to ensure the plan was foolproof. If it was not error-free, he would be caught. And he would be caught if he failed. There was no way out of this. Not for him.

  "You deserve what's coming to you," he whispered softly in her direction. "You deserve nothing less, after what you've done. How I wish I could tell you what I really think of you."

  He'd spoken to her a lot over the past days. She had no idea, of course. The ironic thing was that the way that he had to action these plans, she never would hear his voice. There would not be the chance for that. Which in a way was a pity, but efficiency came first.

  He knew well that every scenario he created now would be riskier than the last. Now that the police had been alerted, there was going to be no safe place to hide. But he wasn’t worried, not when he knew he was smarter, faster, more agile, and more cunning than any of his adversaries. And he had so many surprises in store.

  For this project, he would choose his time, and set his plan into action, and then he would be able to relax and enjoy watching the next step fall into place. But he had to keep things cool, to not allow his emotions to get in the way.

  "It won't be long now. You could hurry up, and save me some time, though," he murmured, as she climbed onto the pier and began unpacking her boat. It was almost dark now. The lights glimmered off the calm waters. It was a beautiful evening. Especially for what he had in mind. He was going to light it up still further, once he had her. And he meant that in a very literal way. He drew in a satisfied breath as he thought about it.

  Finally, she wrapped up her equipment and headed along the pier, turning in the direction of the parking lot.

  He ducked back behind the tree and waited, keeping as still as possible, because she had to pass right by him in order to reach the car. That gave him a thrill, knowing she was walking so close to him. If she could sense his thoughts, she’d run a mile. Just as well she couldn’t.

  But she strolled by him, unaware. She wasn't smiling, but that fact didn't surprise the Bomber. What reason did she have to smile? She was a true monster. Everyone knew that.

  Quickly, he ran through the scenario in his mind once more, making sure he had everything he needed for this capture, because now it was time. Because of the logistics, he was going to do this one differently. He could not risk a struggle, or to have this woman alerting others.

  He crept forward, waiting. She was on the phone now and that was not part of his plans. She was snapping out words angrily, as if she was in conflict with whoever she was speaking to. Not surprising. It showed her rotten character. Greedy, money-grasping woman.

  That was who she was. She was full of anger. The only time she seemed to be at peace was when she was out on the lake, troubling the fish.

  But he would need her phone, so it was good to see that he could easily grab it.

  Now. This was the time. He watched as she reached the car, and bent over to open the trunk. There was nobody else around. In the evenings, at this part of the lake, there seldom was, but yesterday there had been, and so he’d postponed his plans. He had to be able to do what he needed with no witnesses.

  Moving fast, he burst from his cover and sprang forward, grabbing her throat. This was the key part of the capture. Speed was vital. A scream now might ruin his plans, and then it would all be over.

  He was stronger than she was and he was more than capable of handling her struggles. She tried to shout, but the stranglehold on her neck prevented her. And she tried to fight him, more violently than he'd expected, but he knew he was ready for it and could handle the physical toll it would take to subdue her.

  He gripped her harder, and her struggles became weaker. Finally she went limp. She was out cold. In fact, she could be dead by now. That didn’t matter to him. The lawyer had been dead beforehand, too. It was the scenario that mattered.

  And he had her. It had gone perfectly.

  The car keys fell from her hand and landed on the ground with a jingle. He bent and picked them up. Now, it was time to move her. This was the easy part, or at any rate, it should be unless he'd been very unlucky.

  He checked around. He hadn't been unlucky. He'd always believed, in any case, that you made your own luck in this life. He was pleased by how cleverly he had planned, and how well organized he had been.

  It had all gone seamlessly. The struggle had been no more than a blip in the quiet evening. It had caused no excitement and had alerted nobody who might have been within earshot in the darkness. This was the only way to make it work. He had to have every detail perfect.

  He opened the trunk of the car and pushed her inside, making sure she was well covered by a blanket.

  He knew he had plenty of time. It was all part of the plan.

  And he only had a short distance to travel.

  He closed the trunk and opened the driver's door. He reached for the key and turned it in the ignition.

  Then, he drove out of that parking lot, making sure to keep to the speed limit.

  As he set off on the main road, his heart pounded with excitement. This was it. This was the moment he'd dreamed of. The final stage of this plan was ahead.

  He felt filled with anticipation as he drove her car away from the pier, and away from Eagle Lake, toward the place where he was going to prepare for the dramatic climax to this capture.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Twenty minutes after sneaking out of the Willow police department, May arrived at Fairshore. She and Owen had decided to do their research at their local police department, a place where the territory was familiar, they had their own desks and everything they needed. With space and resources at their fingertips, May felt confident there would be something to find.

  A criminal lawyer who had a career history of eight years with the firm must have handled many controversial and difficult cases. May was determined to learn who had threatened her, and what the landscape of Sheila's job had really looked like. She was certain it would be different from what her husband had described.

  They headed straight through to the back office, which at this late hour, was unoccupied. Checking her watch, she saw it was nearly seven in the evening. And there was still so much to do.

  "I hope someone is still at the law firm," May said, quickly looking up their number.

  "It's a law firm. Bound to be someone there working late, especially if they handle criminal cases," Owen reassured her.

  "Let me get onto it immediately. Will you contact the police?" May asked.

  Owen nodded, and May dialed the number straight away for Baden Harris Criminal Law.

  She held her breath as it rang, but Owen was right. After three rings, a stressed sounding woman picked up.

  "Baden Harris, can I help you?"

  "It's Deputy Moore here, calling from Fairshore police department," May introduced herself. "We're seeking information on a series of crimes. One of them involved Sheila Craig."

  "Oh, yes, I can't tell you how terrible that has been for us," the woman shared. "I was her assistant for a while, and it has just been so traumatic to deal with this."

  "I'm so sorry that you had to go through it," May sympathized. "We are obviously looking for as much background information as we can find. And we were wondering if Sheila Craig had ever had any threats made against her in the course of her work. Would you know about that?"

  The assistant sighed. "Threats? Yes, lots of threats. We're a criminal law firm. It comes with the territory, sadly. All the lawyers are threatened, very regularly. Sometimes anonymously, sometimes by clients, or relatives of clients, or the opposition parties in the lawsuit. Lots of it is just nonsense, but sometimes, there are people who take things to extremes, and we do take those threats seriously."

  May frowned. "What do you mean? How do they take things to extremes?"

  "They issue personal, explicit threats targeting the lawyers, or even their partners and children, their families, their friends. It’s shocking what people can find out and how they can use personal information like a weapon. And as I said, it’s unfortunately impossible to stop. We try to take steps against the worst ones, but otherwise, we all just have to live with it."

  "Is there a record of the threats against Sheila?"

  "Yes. We keep a complete dossier of all the threats made against all the individuals in this firm, no matter how minor."

  "Would you be able to send me the information? It could be very helpful in taking this investigation further," May said, hoping that the assistant would agree.

  She paused. "Let me check. I don't want to do anything without the correct go-ahead."

  May was put on hold and waited, mentally crossing her fingers that the answer would be positive.

  While she waited, she heard Owen conversing with an official from the local police department. From what she could hear, that was not going well, and May felt her stomach twist with anxiety.

  It sounded to her as if the police department wanted to help, but couldn't work out how to make all the information quickly available. From what Owen was saying, it was sounding as if compiling all those reports and pulling together the information would take weeks, time that nobody there had.

  One of the two ways forward must surely pan out. Now everything was resting on the lawyers’ side.

  With a click, the hold music ended and the assistant was back on the line.

  "Yes, I do have permission from the senior partner to share anything that could help with the case. It's very distressing and as you can imagine, everyone is nervous they might be targeted next. Please do keep in mind that some of the information related to the threats may be privileged and may not be shared beyond what is necessary for you to identify any suspects."

  May felt a rush of relief.

  "That will be so helpful. I'll give you my email address. Can you send it as soon as possible?" She read it out to her.

  "I'll need a few minutes to prepare it, and then I'll send it. I hope it helps you," the assistant said.

  "Thank you."

  May disconnected, feeling glad that they would have something available.

  "They’re sending a list of threats," she told Owen.

  "That’s great. As you might have heard, the local police who handled those threats just can't get things together in any workable timeframe. They’re too busy there. The deputy I spoke to said that we were welcome to come through and look for ourselves. But the drive there and back would take a while, and most probably it would take the whole night or longer, going through the files," Owen said, sounding stressed.

  "Hopefully the law firm kept better records anyway," May said. She was also very aware of the pressure of time, especially as it was now fully dark outside. Night was closing in, and they were still no closer to finding the killer.

  At that moment, May's email pinged.

  "Here we go," she said.

  Eagerly, she clicked on the email and opened the documents that the assistant had sent through. Owen scooted around to her side of the desk, peering down at the pages.

  "Wow," he said. "Those are a lot of threats!"

  May scrolled through. In her eight year career, it seemed that Sheila had received literally hundreds of threats, mostly from angry criminals who'd expected the law firm to work miracles, but who had ended up doing time.

  The words jumped out at her, filled with violence and intent.

  "You deserve to die!"

  "I should feed you to my pigs!"

  "I am going to find you and run you over when I'm out."

  "You should be chopped into pieces for being so useless."

  May frowned as the terrible words scrolled by.

  "I wonder how we can narrow this down," she said. "Perhaps we need to look for the modus operandi."

  "You mean search for key words like bomb, explosion, that sort of thing?" Owen asked.

  "Yes. If the Bomber had made a threat like that, surely he would have mentioned it? Seeing this is clearly how he thinks? We can at least try it at first."

  May tapped keys, narrowing her eyes as she saw what came up. Owen leaned even closer, reading the words on the screen.

  "He threatened to kill her with a bomb,” he said, pointing to the first threat on the search. “He threatened to set fire to her house,” he indicated the second. “And he threatened to blow her up with an explosive jacket," he said, pointing to the third.

  "If we have to prioritize these, then to me, threats one and three seem the most relevant," May said.

  She read on, to see who these threats were from, leaning over to Owen’s laptop to search different databases to see where the threatening people now lived.

  "Okay. Threat number three is not valid as the person who made it is now deceased. Killed in prison, I see."

  "But threat number one looks valid," Owen said.

  "Yes. I see the law firm made a note here that Humphrey Andrews, who made the threat, did so after being sentenced to ten years for blowing up his business for insurance fraud."

  "Relevant again. The guy we are looking for clearly defaults to that mode to solve all his problems," Owen said.

  "Humphrey spent just four years inside, and was released six months ago. So the timeframe connects, too," May said. “He could have come out of jail angry. Perhaps he planned revenge on a few people he was mad at, including Sheila. Thus the string of cases.”

  "We need to go speak to him," Owen said. “Let’s see if he’s a resident in the area.”

  He logged into another database, tapping keys.

  "Okay. I don't have a home address for him. None on record, for some reason. But I have a work address, where he's currently employed and has been for the past three months. It’s a used car company in Tamarack County, but they won’t be open now. They close at six p.m. according to their website."

  "We'll have to do that first thing tomorrow, then," May said.

  "Yes, I guess we'll have to wait."

  Even so, despite the frustration, May felt hopeful that this lead might progress the case.

  At that moment, they heard quick footsteps outside and both jumped guiltily as Kerry's voice rang out.

  "May, are you there?"

  May jumped up, scraping her chair back.

  "Yes, I'm here." She hoped Kerry wasn’t going to get mad at her for having sneaked away to do some additional research.

  "I need to speak to you. Urgently. And in private," she said, with a glance at Owen.

 

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