6. Delaney
CHAPTER 6
DELANEY
“I’m sorry. I can’t give you any more information than has already been released.”
I stare at the detective across the counter and give him my best doe-eyes impression.
“Please.” I bat my eyelashes in an attempt at flirting.
“Look, I don’t know what people’s fascination with serial killers is, but I’m telling you, lady, this guy is dangerous.” The officer runs his hand over his face. “This isn’t a fucking game, this is real life. Go home and let us do our job.”
I lean forward. “I’ve let you do your jobs. For five fucking years, I’ve sat around, waiting for you to do your job.”
Detective Jeffers steps back as if I slapped him. “What are you talking about?”
“My sister was one of the Phantom’s victims. That fucking real enough for you?” My chest heaves.
“What was her name?” he asks.
“Oh, now you want to play show and tell?” I sass.
The noisy precinct has gone deafeningly silent at my outburst, but I’m beyond caring. Sure enough, I glance around and notice everyone has stopped and is watching the show.
Great, now I’m gonna be locked up for disorderly conduct.
Detective Jeffers’ eyes soften, and his voice lowers. “I’m sorry for your loss, but I still can’t tell you anything. I wish I could, but it’s an ongoing investigation.”
“Thanks for nothing,” I grumble.
I stomp out of the station and down the steps to my car. My anger is misdirected, and I know that. It isn’t the detective’s fault that he can’t give me any information. I knew it was a long shot, but damn if I wasn’t hoping that for once, just once, something would lead me in the right direction.
“Hey!”
I jump and whirl around toward the voice. “Holy shit, you scared me.”
A female officer holds her hand out for me to shake. “I’m sorry I scared you. I’m Officer Kerry Moore.”
“Delaney.”
“You really should be more aware of your surroundings in light of what happened recently.”
“Normally, I am, but I have a lot on my mind.”
“I heard.”
“Figures. I shou?—”
Kerry shakes her head. “Don’t worry about it. I’d be pissed, too, if I was in your shoes.”
“Still, I don’t normally lose my cool like that.”
“Detective Jeffers is a good man. I promise he’s doing his best to find the sick son of a bitch.”
“That’s what they all say,” I huff. “Yet the asshole is still on the loose.”
“I probably shouldn’t be doing this. I could lose my job.”
My brows furrow. “Doing what?”
“I’m off at six,” she explains. “Can you meet me at the diner on the corner of Grand and Fifth? Betty’s Cafe.”
“Why?”
Kerry leans closer. “Could be nothing, but there was something at the crime scene they didn’t release to the press. I’ll bring a copy of it.”
Blood pumps in my ears. I dig my nails into my palms to keep focus and take several deep breaths.
This could be the break I’ve been waiting for.
“I’ll be there.”
I spend the afternoon at a local gym burning off some excess energy while I wait for time to slowly tick by. My mind wanders as to what the information could be. I don’t want to get my hopes up, but it’s hard not to get excited to have a lead for the first time in years.
At ten till six, I slide into a booth at the back of the diner, and I’m facing the front door so Kerry can easily spot me. I’m glad she suggested a public place because there’s no way I’d meet a stranger anywhere else, cop or not. The place seems pretty popular; within ten minutes, only a couple of tables are left near the front.
I wave to Kerry when she pushes through the door. She scoots into the seat across from me, and the waitress rushes over. I fidget with my hands as I wait for Kerry to finish ordering.
“Well?” I ask impatiently after the waitress finally leaves.
Kerry slides a piece of paper toward me. “Here. You didn’t get this from me. In fact, you never saw this.”
I grip the paper tightly and try to decipher what I’m looking at. “It’s a map of the United States.”
“Yep.”
“What do the red and green dots represent?”
“I don’t know, but it must be something significant because they aren’t releasing this information to the press. This was found near the victim.”
“Can I keep this?”
“Sure, but remember, you didn’t get it from me.”
The waitress returns with our burgers and fries. We eat silently for a few minutes before I ask the question that’s been bothering me ever since Kerry approached me in the police parking lot.
“Why are you helping me?”
She takes a deep breath. “Because I have a sister, and like you, I’d want to find the fucker if, God forbid, anything like that ever happened to her.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
I smirk. “I won’t.”
We part ways after exchanging information. I doubt we’ll keep in contact, but it’ll be nice knowing someone in the police department.
After a nice hot shower to work the knots out of my back, I grab my laptop and get comfortable on the hotel bed. I glance over at the map that’s lying on the nightstand, right where I dropped it when I got back from dinner. My eyes shift from one colored dot to the next, and pieces start to fall into place.
“Son of a bitch.” I grab the paper. “It can’t be… There’s no fucking way.”
Instead of using the hotel WIFI, I turn on the hotspot on my phone and connect my computer to it. I search Google for the Phantom Strangler and the sites of his victims until my suspicion is confirmed: The red dots are every Phantom Strangler crime scene where a body was found.
There are green dots on Nashville, Seattle, Green Bay, Philadelphia, Las Vegas, and San Diego. If the red dots are the murder sites, the green dots have to be…
Fuck.
They’re possible future kill sites. It’s the only thing that makes sense.
Looks like I’m heading to Nashville.