Nowhere to Run by Kate Bold

Author:Kate Bold [Bold, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kate Bold
Published: 2022-09-02T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Harley flopped down on the bed, exhausted.

As Callaway had warned her, the hotel was far more rundown than she remembered. Despite the outdated wallpaper and peeling exterior, however, it was bug-free and clean, even if there was a faint odor of tobacco lingering in the air. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do.

Her mind, which had been hyper-focused on the case all day, now began to wander like a boat cut free from its moorings. She found herself thinking of the message Greg had left her.

We need to talk.

The words sounded ominous, a harbinger of bad tidings. Tired as she was, she didn’t intend to go all night wondering what Greg wanted to talk with her about. Better to bite the bullet and hash it out now.

She dialed his number and waited, chewing her lip while the phone rang. The call went to voicemail, and she hung up, unsure what to say.

“At least I tried,” she mumbled, tossing the phone onto the comforter and lying back again.

She tried to relax. She planned to hit the ground running in the morning, which meant she needed all the rest she could get. Try as she might to get comfortable, however, she couldn’t stop thinking about the case. All the details—the gold foil, the paint, the timeline of the murders—kept running circles in her brain.

Knowing she wouldn’t be able to sleep until she wrote her thoughts down, she turned on the lamp and threw back the sheet. Next, she retrieved the guest book and pen from the drawer and wrote the following:

“MOTIVE?”

Given the age and gender of the victims, the most obvious answer was a sexual motive. Though she couldn’t rule such a possibility out, not until the ME had carefully examined all the victims, nothing about the way the bodies had been left—the foil, the face paint—suggested a sexual motive.

What kind of motive did those details suggest, then? Was he just a hunter mounting his trophies, as Callaway had suggested? Or did he bear some particular hate toward his victims, some old grievance?

Whatever else he is, Harley thought, he’s dedicated, motivated. Probably someone on the fringes of society, whether or not others see him that way. A zealot.

Harley wrote the word “RELIGIOUS” and underlined it twice.

She sat back. Did the man who styled himself Big D seem like the zealot type? No, not at first glance…but Harley had the impression there was a lot going on beneath the surface with him. He was definitely on the fringes of society, that was for sure. And his camera might be a way for him to get close to his victims without alerting them to his true intentions.

I need a sounding board, she thought, blowing out a slow breath between her lips. She considered waking Callaway, but remembering how tired he had looked, she decided to let him rest. Instead, she picked up her phone and dialed the number of Josiah Emerson, an old friend from the Bureau’s Massachusetts field office. He had helped her talk through the Felix Navarro case.

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