Chapter Twenty-Six #3
At the door, Reagan hugged her tightly and asked that she call her soon, and Evan took her hand in his, offering what looked like a sincere smile. “Be well, Josie.”
Reagan gave Cooper a hug too, wishing him well. “I hope to see a lot more of you, Reagan,” he said on a smile.
Cooper stood with Josie, watching Reagan and Evan walk to their car. “Must have been hard for Evan to listen to his wife admit she’d cheated on him to a roomful of people.” A glint came into his eye. “Sort of put him between a rock and a hard place.”
Josie laughed even as she winced, acknowledging that Evan had to have felt uncomfortable even if he’d hidden it well.
But mostly, her chest warmed as she remembered the joke she and Cooper had once found amusement in and the friendship they’d shared.
The reminder of simpler times when she could laugh without the still-present stab of guilt.
She wrapped her arms around Cooper. He kissed her on her cheek and then stepped away, the sun glinting off the caramel highlights of his hair as he walked to his car, waved, and drove away.
For a moment she watched as their vehicles disappeared down the road, her eyes moving to Zach where he stood on the porch again, talking on the phone.
He held up his finger, indicating he’d be right in.
She heard her cell phone ring from the kitchen and walked to answer it.
She didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”
“Hi, J-Josie.”
Josie’s muscles turned to water, and she sagged against the counter. “Who is this?” she said, her voice deadened, her heart thumping wildly.
She heard something in the background—rushing water, maybe?—that made it difficult to hear.
“Slayer of r-rats. Deliverer of poetic j-justice. Did it m-make you happy? What I d-did to your bitch of a mother?”
His voice was slightly muffled by whatever sound she heard in the background, but it sounded like him, just like him, and horror clawed through every cell in Josie’s shock-riddled body.
It can’t be. It can’t be.
“Marshall?” she whispered, her voice a mere slip of sound. Was she in a nightmare? It felt like she was.
He laughed. “No. No, this is n-not Marshall. He d-died, Josie. Don’t you know that? Blew his own b-brains out.”
“Who is this?” she asked, her throat clogging with tears, with terror. She heard the front door open and close, and Zach stepped into the kitchen. He began to smile, but as soon as he took her in, he rushed to where she stood, trembling, holding the phone to her ear in a death grip.
“I think about you, Josie. I’ll n-need to see you once more. You h-have to know that, right? Just once m-more. You and me. Finally.” His voice deepened. “It’s been hard to stay away.”
She clenched her eyes shut, a tear rolling down her cheek. Zach leaned in, trying to listen, but it was almost as if whoever was on the phone could see through the device, because the call disconnected. Josie opened her eyes, the phone dropping from her hand as she let out a tortured sob.
“Who was that?” Zach demanded, taking her shoulders in his hands.
She shook her head back and forth, denying what her mouth was already saying.
“Marshall. It sounded exactly like Marshall. He said…he said he left that rat; he killed my mother. He called it poetic justice, he—” Her voice was shaking so badly she could barely speak.
Zach wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.
“He said he needed to see me one more time,” she choked. “He’s coming for me.”
“Shh,” he murmured against her hair. “I’m here. You’re safe. You’re okay. Josie.”
I think about you, Josie. I’ll n-need to see you once more. You h-have to know that, right? Just once m-more. You and me. No, she wasn’t okay. It can’t be. He’s dead. But it was him. It was Marshall. She’d never forget that voice, not as long as she lived.
Zach pulled her even closer, his hand making slow circles on her back.
For a moment, Josie stiffened, unused to physical affection, hesitant about touch in general.
But he felt so solid, so warm against her, and she sagged into him, letting him hold her for a moment before he pulled back.
“You’re safe,” he repeated, staring into her eyes.
“Take a deep breath and tell me exactly what he said.” She had taken solace in the strength of him against her—even for a brief moment—and she took solace in his words as well.
She was safe. He was there with her. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt her.
She took in a big breath, allowing it to infuse her body with momentary strength.
She told him exactly what the man had said, how he’d stuttered just as Marshall Landish had, how the tone of his voice was the same, though there was competing background noise, something she couldn’t identify.
Zach retrieved her phone from the floor and looked up the number that had just called. He removed his own phone from his pocket and hit a button. A second later, Josie heard Jimmy’s barked hello, which further served to soothe her frazzled nerves and racing heart. Jimmy. Solid, dependable Jimmy.
“I need you to trace a number,” Zach said. “Someone just called Josie pretending to be Landish.”
They exchanged a few more words, and then Zach hung up and led her to a kitchen chair. She sank down into it, her limbs like jelly. “It sounded so much like him,” she whispered. “It…I thought it was him.”
Zach squatted down in front of her and took her hands in his. “It couldn’t be. It was some sicko trying to scare you. Marshall Landish is dead. There’s no chance it was him.”
She nodded. She knew he was dead. The police didn’t make mistakes like that. The coroner. Whoever was charged with identifying a body after death. She knew it couldn’t be Marshall. She just couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d come back from the dead somehow.
Just once m-more. You and me. Finally. It’s been hard to stay away.
Oh God.
* * *
Zach leaned against the railing, his back to the house, his eyes scanning the road and the surrounding areas as he waited for Sergeant Woods to pick up the line.
“Copeland,” he greeted. “Jimmy’s here in my office. We got the information back on that trace. Burner phone. Dead end.”
He’d figured as much. “It’s gotta be this copycat. And the copycat has to be someone who knew Landish. Josie said there was some background noise, but she was convinced it was him at first. Whoever impersonated him did a damn good job. It scared the hell out of her.”
“I don’t have a good feeling about this,” the sergeant said. “This guy is gearing up to do something, Cope. Every cop instinct I have tells me so.”
Zach didn’t disagree. His stomach twisted at the very real possibility that Josie was in danger. Guarding her had been a precaution at first. Now it was a necessity. A necessity that, if not handled well, could result in her being hurt. Or killed.
“Vaughn Merrick has lawyered up. We’ve put in a request to get a voluntary DNA sample and a list of women he’s been involved with over the years, as far back as he can remember.
The guy is hemming and hawing, saying there were only a few, and he can’t remember their names offhand.
He’ll have to go back through his class rosters, etcetera.
Slimy motherfucker. But once we get those names, we’ll probably be putting details on them as well.
We already have one dispatched to Reagan Hutchison’s house. ”
Shit. That was a lot of manpower. Manpower they didn’t necessarily have.
Putting a tail on Reagan Hutchison might be overkill, but Zach understood the scale of the investigation, knew how vital it was that they not leave one stone unturned.
Maybe they could request a few officers from surrounding townships.
As though the sergeant had read his mind, he said, “As far as Josie Stratton’s protection, the Oxford PD can’t spare us any officers right now.
They’re understaffed, some flu going around.
I could send a couple of our officers, but I’m not going to do that because we need everybody we have working this case right now, in addition to extra officers patrolling the UC campus and surrounding areas. We’re stretched paper thin.”
Zach stilled. No way was the sergeant about to suggest that Josie not be given any further protection. “Sergeant, with all due respect, you yourself just said you had a feeling this guy was gearing up to do something—”
“I do. That’s why I want you to get her out of here, temporarily.”
“What do you mean, get her out of here?” Zach glanced back to the house. Josie moved in front of the window, shifting the curtain aside and looking out. Their eyes met.
“I know Jimmy told you about the name he pulled from the old report dating back five years—the woman Ms. Merrick mentioned who showed up at their house causing a disturbance?”
“Yeah. She moved to Tennessee? In with her parents apparently? Jimmy hasn’t been able to reach her.”
“No, but listen, we have a safe house very near there. I want you to interview the parents in person, see if they can tell you where to find their daughter. Take Josie with you and stay at the safe house. She’ll be able to get outside, not feel like a prisoner again, and we won’t have to worry about her safety for a few days at least. Just get her out of here. ”