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“Sure, no problem,” the male said.
“Thanks,” he said.
The couple continued down the trail.
“We’re heading up the mountain, aren’t we?” Ellis asked.
“I am.”
“Which means I am,” Ellis said. “Where you go, I go.”
“There’s a ninety percent chance that Debbie Roberson never set foot in this park,” Nevada said.
Macy and Bennett arrived at the Shady Grove Real Estate offices minutes after seven to interview the third rape victim, Rebecca Kennedy. An early wake-up call that morning coupled with the nonstop investigation was taking a toll.
Macy had no time to be tired, so she would suck it up. She would get her old life back even if it killed her.
The Shady Grove Real Estate facility was a one-story building with a small front porch and a couple of inviting rockers beside a sign that read WE DON’T JUST SELL HOUSES; WE CREATE HOMES. The windows were large and inviting, and the place still had a new-building look that would surely fade soon.
They knew Rebecca worked late hours but hadn’t called ahead to announce their visit. Macy didn’t want to give Rebecca time to fabricate a reason to avoid an interview.
Bennett strode to the front desk, catching the eye of the woman behind the counter closing up for the day. “Jenny, remember me from the self-defense speech I gave at Rotary a few months ago?”
“I do,” Jenny said, smiling. “Good memory for names.”
“Can you ring Ms. Kennedy and have her come out here? I have a few questions.”
“I think she might be finishing up with a client.”
“Well, ask her to get to a stopping place and come out front. It’s important.” Though Bennett rarely raised her voice, her clear, direct tone gave no room for argument. Jenny nodded and quickly ducked around a corner.
“Ms. Kennedy owns this business?” Macy asked.
“Yes, she opened it after she graduated college. She’s done very well for herself.”
Five minutes later a petite, slim woman came around the corner. Her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she wore a navy-blue dress and flats. Sadly, she fit the perpetrator’s target profile of a pretty young woman. And her small stature would make her easier to subdue.
Macy reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her badge. “Ms. Kennedy, I’m Special Agent Macy Crow with the FBI. I’d like to ask you a couple of questions.”
The woman looked at Bennett and then back at Macy. “Now’s not the best time.”
“I know it’s not ideal, but I’m going to need to hear your story,” Macy said.
“I gave a statement to Sheriff Greene when it happened.”
“I may be able to get you to recall a detail that can help apprehend the man who assaulted you.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t come by the offices yesterday. I just couldn’t bring myself to face that place.”
“We understand,” Macy said.
Rebecca crossed her arms. “I saw you on the news this morning, and then I hear Debbie Roberson is missing. What the hell is going on in this town?”
“Is there somewhere private we can talk?”
“It’ll have to be quick. I have a client arriving soon. There’s a lounge over here.” Rebecca led them across the lobby to a small alcove furnished with a small round table and several chairs around it. A large box of tissues sat in the center.
Macy eased into her seat and shifted her weight until she found what might pass for comfortable before removing her legal pad from her backpack. She flipped to a clean page. “Ms. Kennedy, take me back to the night you were attacked. Do you remember what the weather was like?”
“The weather?” Absently, Rebecca fingered the edge of her turtleneck. “It was hot. Really humid.”
“It was August, correct?”
“Yes. August 15. I worked a late night at my dad’s real estate firm. I was an intern in his office in those days. My parents had separated, and it was my chance to spend time with him.” She brushed imaginary lint off her very clean sleeve. “I stopped by the grocery story to pick up a soda and a frozen pizza. I was excited about putting my feet up and watching a movie. I had my mother’s house to myself that night, and I was glad for the solitude.”
“Where did you buy your soda and pizza?”
“Lucky’s market.” The same place Debbie had last been seen.
“And did you see anyone in the parking lot or in the store that made you nervous?”
“No.”
“Was there anyone else in the store?”
“Just the clerk and me.”
“Bobby?” Macy asked.
“Yeah. There was also a couple of the high school kids in the parking lot.” A faint smile tugged her lips. “They were comparing fake IDs. Stupid because in those days everyone basically knew who was or wasn’t underage.”
Macy smiled, hoping it didn’t look as strategic as it felt. “I tried to pass off my share of fake IDs as a teenager. Never had any luck.”
“Me neither. I still occasionally get carded. It’s flattering now.” She smiled.
“So where did you go after Lucky’s?”
“I drove home and stepped out of the car. I was juggling my bags and keys and trying to get the back door unlocked. I remember feeling really creeped out, like someone was watching me.”
“Did you see anyone?”
“No. I even scanned the woods, thinking I’d see someone, but there was no one. I shrugged it off and went inside.”
Rebecca grew more somber. “I put the pizza in the oven, took a shower, and when I got out, I ate a slice in front of the television in my room.”
“Where was your room?”
“First floor in the back of the house.”
Everything she’d said so far fit the pattern of this offender. “I went to bed and fell asleep with the television still on. I startled awake to a hand over my mouth and a man wearing a mask standing over me.” She closed her eyes and shuddered.
“I know it’s not easy, but help us catch this guy, Ms. Kennedy.”
She nodded. “At first I was so stunned I froze, but then I guess the adrenaline kicked in. I tried to bite and kick him. God, he was powerful. The more I fought, the more he seemed to enjoy it. Then he pulled this rope out of nowhere and tied me up.”
Macy leaned forward. “The rope wasn’t in his hands when you first saw him?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“It might help you remember.”
Rebecca closed her eyes.
“You were lying in your bed. Was there air-conditioning?”
“Yes. I could hear it humming.”
“Good. The sheets are soft. And then you feel a man on top of you? Did you get a sense of his size?”
“He felt huge.” Her brow knotted. “His feet extended over the edge of the bed.”
“You said he was wearing a ski mask.”
“Yes. It was black with a tight weave. I could only see his eyes and a little bit of his mouth. The openings were trimmed in red.”
“What color was the skin you saw around the eyes and mouth? Was he a Caucasian? African American?”
“He was a white guy.” Her lip quivered. “This is going to sound weird, but he smelled nice.”
“How did he smell?”
“It was a spicy cologne. I smelled it once on a guy years later and nearly freaked out. But I got up the nerve to ask him the brand.”
“And?”
“He said it was called Beacon. I even went to the local mall and found a bottle of it. I smelled the tester at the counter and started crying. The woman must have thought I was nuts.”
Macy noted both details in her pad. “Go on.”
“He yanked up my nightgown and was quickly inside me. He kept staring at me but had a weird look in his eyes.”
“What color were his eyes?” Macy asked.
“Blue.”
/> “Why did they look weird?”
“Honestly, he looked sad.” She shook her head. “Anyway, he finished pretty quick and then he tugged up his pants. I thought he was finished and was going to leave. But he wrapped his hands around my neck. He tightened his grip, and I started gasping for air.”
“How did his hands feel? Were they rough or smooth?”
“Rough.”
“Did you see hair on his arms?”
“Yes. It was dark.”
“Did he have a tattoo or scar?”
She closed her eyes and drew in a breath. “There was a scar on his abdomen. I remember seeing it when his shirt rode up while he was raping me.”
“Where was the scar?”
“Straight across his gut. And it didn’t look like it was from surgery but from an injury. It was jagged and ugly.”
“You’re doing very well, Ms. Kennedy. Tell me what happened next?”
Rebecca raised her fingertips to her neck. “He tightened his hands around my neck. His eyes changed. They didn’t look sad anymore but excited. He liked doing that better than the other thing.”
“Did you pass out?”
“No.”
