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Time stood still in Grace’s mind. She was speechless and unaware of the chaos that went on around her in the kitchen.
It felt more like minutes that the police were at the house and detectives arrived.
Grace couldn’t speak. She couldn’t breathe. She wasn’t even sure this was happening as her brother and Charlie kneeled down on the floor near her chair and tried to comfort her.
John was so angry. He never even thought to open the envelope first. This was serious and his sister was in grave danger.
“It’s all right, Grace, everything is going to be okay.” John squeezed her shoulders and became angrier and angrier as he looked at the way she stared at her fingers. She held the locks of a dead woman’s hair in her hands.
“She’s dead, John. Oh my God, that poor, beautiful, young woman is dead and she was right down the street. He knows I’m here. Whoever this is found me.”
The detectives arrived, packaged the evidence preparing to deliver it all to the crime lab. Grace went upstairs to the bathroom to try and remove the sensation of touching the hair from her hands. It was disgusting.
She closed the door, and the instant she was alone, she began crying.
She was scrubbing her hands so hard. She thought it was still on her hands as she kept scrubbing and scrubbing, shaking her head in disbelief.
She closed her eyes and saw the pictures first of the pretty brunette, then of her beaten, and murdered.
In her mind she saw images of Clara’s body in the woods and the dirty fingers with pink nail polish on them, one horrible vision after the next.
The killer was still out there and now he was taunting her. Grace wondered why he wanted to cause her so much pain. She cried for the woman in the picture. She cried for her sister. How would she get through this? No one would be safe around her. She needed to go away. She thought to herself as she dried her hands then covered her face with them. She wiped the tears away, wanting to stay strong, but her whole body practically shook in defeat.
Suddenly the bathroom door opened and she jumped. She was edgy and so scared as she reached back behind her, bracing the cold, white, porcelain sink.
Sandman appeared in the doorway and she instantly turned, trying to hide her face, her tears, and the fear she had as she held her hands in place, trying not to fall to her knees.
* * * *
Sandman closed the door. He knew Grace was tryin
g to stay strong but she was pale and shaking as he made his way swiftly toward her, turning her around, and pulling her into his arms. She held back the tears, not wanting to need anyone or show her fears and emotions
He hugged her, holding her tightly, rubbing her head and her hair.
He could feel her shaking, trying not to cry. She was trying so hard to be strong.
The events of the last week were weighing on her. First receiving the news that one of her friends had been killed, then being shot at, and now holding evidence of a murdered young woman in her hands. She was amazingly strong and if this killer got more intense and was determined to kill Grace, then she would need all that strength, then some.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry this happened,” he whispered, truly wishing that it hadn’t.
He’d heard the news and raced his car to the house ignoring every traffic light and stop sign along the way. He had to get to her. He should have listened to his gut, his instinct when it told him to place Grace in protective custody. Her brothers were adamant about being involved and he didn’t want to cause any unnecessary friction between the departments. But he was a specialist, only called in for cases like this one.
Grace had been on his mind constantly in New York. He was worried about her safety. The killer was after her and she needed protection. She was not going to stay with her brother and his friends anymore. He was taking her with him. Where he could protect her.
Sandman was a highly trained professional killer and whoever was responsible for these murders meant business. It should be obvious to everyone now.
He was a classic psychopath. He had no fear, no concern about being caught. He just walked up the steps of the house, right to the front door, and left that disgusting envelope for Grace.
A house where four trained officers lived and believed they were protecting this delicate woman in his arms.
He was angry and disgusted at the thought of what just happened.
He knew he had to protect her and he told himself it had nothing to do with the physical attraction. She needed his professional training.
Grace looked up at him, her beautiful hazel eyes full of fear and sadness. She was scared and so upset. Now she pulled away, embarrassed.
He reached up and touched her face.
