Tangled Webs by Scott Prussing

Author:Scott Prussing
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: thriller, crime, suspense, murder, mystery, police, detective, killing, television, cops, psychopath
Publisher: Scott Prussing

CHAPTER 24

“WE GOT ’IM!”

Fifteen minutes after Sloane’s call, the words still echoed in Conner’s head. Following the triumphant exclamation, Sloane had been brief and to the point. They had a name and an address. Units were on the way. If Conner wanted to watch it go down, he could join Sloane on site.

Since hanging up the phone, Conner had not been able to sit still. Each time he tried to sit, he popped back up off the couch like a child’s jack-in-the-box toy and began pacing his apartment. It seemed impossible. Less than forty-eight hours ago Sloane sat in Conner’s kitchen and told him the task force was making no progress. But today Sloane’s voice held no doubt. Somehow, they had gotten the break they’d all been praying for.

Conner had refused to let himself think about the case since Sloane’s visit, remaining holed up in his apartment, going out only to buy a case of beer and a couple of tasteless, cellophane-wrapped sandwiches from a mini-Mart down the street. Whenever thoughts about the case slipped into his mind, he forced them out immediately. He avoided the news on television and left his paper unread. Still, he could guess what had happened. The killer had stayed with his pattern and struck again, this time slipping up somehow. Someone had seen him, or ID’d the car. And now LAPD was closing in.

Conflicting desires battled inside Conner. He had promised himself he was through with this. He was trying hard to stay put, aloof from the action, but part of him wanted to join Sloane. Like it or not, the killer had invaded his life, tearing his peaceful existence into fragments he might never be able to put together again. Cecilia was gone, probably for good, and he had been reduced to hiding from the world in his apartment, drinking more beer than was good for him, afraid even to sleep, for sleep the last three nights had tortured him with his nightmare. Maybe if he saw the thing end and watched the killer dragged away, or better yet, put down permanently if he resisted being taken, as Conner guessed he might, he would feel some kind of closure and would have some chance to pick up the pieces and return to the safe, quiet life he’d fashioned for himself. Maybe when this nightmare ended, his other nightmare would go with it, along with the pull that had tugged at him since Sloane had drawn him into the Christy DeMars murder. Or maybe he was just kidding himself. Maybe he simply needed the action, a junkie craving a fix. Maybe it was in his blood, and always would be. He shook the thought from his head. He didn’t want to deal with the repercussions of that line of thinking.

He forced himself down on the couch, this time splaying his arms across the back and closing his eyes, trying to guide his breathing into a slow, even rhythm. Stay here, he told himself. Where it’s safe.

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