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“No, he didn’t. As far as we know his first victim was his second wife. About a year after Sandra’s death, Sebastian remarried. Selene Andabaka was twenty-one, Sebastian was thirty-one, their marriage lasted five years. Two years later, he was married again, this time to twenty-five-year-old Claudia Cambridge. This marriage lasted eight years and then he got divorced again. A year later, he moved on to wife number four, Emily Hadden. She was twenty-three, and they were married for three years, getting divorced almost a year ago.”
“Emily Hadden who was just reported missing by her sister.”
A statement not a question, but he answered anyway. “Yes. Twelve years ago, Selene Andabaka was murdered by her boyfriend. Or so it was believed. She had been raped, then stabbed in the abdomen, and died very slowly from exsanguination. A small heart had been carved into her left breast, above her heart. Her body was found lying in the bed she and her boyfriend, Jim Henley, shared. Jim was found in a chair beside the bed, dead from a gunshot wound to his head. There was a suicide note, Jim claimed responsibility for Selene’s murder, so the case never went any further than that. No reason to believe it was anything but a murder-suicide.”
Selene and Jim’s murders had been his first case as a detective. Nick still remembered the strong metallic smell of blood when he’d entered their apartment. He remembered the lifeless faces, half of Jim’s missing from the shot that had killed him. He still remembered word for word the suicide note. Or rather the note. From the first time he’d read it, something had felt wrong. It was too generic. Just Jim saying he was sorry for hurting the woman he loved and couldn’t live with himself. But he hadn’t said why. That had stuck with Nick. He’d felt that if Jim had raped and murdered the woman he supposedly loved and was so broken up about it that he had to end his own life, and had taken the time to write a suicide note—which wasn't as common as it was made to seem—then it seemed like he would have been compelled to explain his actions.
Still there was no indication of a break-in, no indication that anyone else had been in their apartment, no indication that anyone had a grudge against either Selene or Jim. And so the case was closed.
“Nine years later, Claudia Cambridge was murdered,” Nick continued. “The circumstances were similar to Selene’s death. Only this time, Claudia was missing for a day before her body was found in an abandoned warehouse. Again, she’d been raped, but she was dirty and naked this time. Cause of death was the same, a stab wound to the stomach, and again, a little heart had been carved into her left breast. Her husband, Ian Russell, was found too. Dead from a shot to the head. A suicide note claimed that he had raped and murdered his wife, then killed himself because he couldn’t live with what he’d done.”
“Coincidence?”
“Coincidence?” he repeated incredulously. “Even if two of Sebastian Candella’s ex-wives had been raped and murdered, in the same manner, by their partners, who had then committed suicide, how likely is it thatbothwould carve little hearts into the women’s chests?”
“Not very,” Heidi admitted. “Forensics?”
“Nothing that matched. Different caliber guns, different knives, one knife was serrated the other wasn't. No DNA, fibers, or fingerprints found at either scene indicated another person was present. Both the shots to Jim and Ian appeared to be self-inflicted.”
“So you think Sebastian Candella murdered all four of them.”
Again, a statement not a question, again he replied anyway, “I don’t see who else it could be. He’s the only common denominator between them. And now his fourth wife is missing. That’s all four wives dead.”
“You think he killed Sandra too?” Heidi asked.
“No. But the others, absolutely. Both Selene and Claudia's cases are closed. Their murderers are supposedly dead. Emily Hadden is our chance to get this guy. To stop him. To get justice for his other wives. And Aggie is the key to getting to him. He has Emily right now, he only kept Claudia for a day, but since we haven’t found Emily’s body yet we have to believe that she’s still alive.”
“Only this time there isn’t a husband or boyfriend to frame,” Miller spoke up for the first time. “And Sebastian isn’t remarried. With the others he waited until he’d been married about a year before killing off his previous wife, I guess so that if anyone questioned that it wasn't a murder-suicide and came looking at him, he could claim he was already happily remarried and hence would have no reason to kill an ex. This time he’s doing things differently, so we have no idea how long he’s going to keep Emily alive or how he’s going to stage her death.”
“Time isn’t on our side,” Nick said. “He could kill her any time he wants. We know he has to have her kept someplace where he’s confident that no one is going to stumble upon her. This thing with Aggie gives me the opportunity to get up close and personal with him without tipping him off. Hopefully, I can figure out where he’s stashed Emily so we can find her before he kills her.”
Nick thought it was best not to mention that while he had been at the hospital with Aggie that first night, Miller had been setting up surveillance in her apartment. Heidi was not going to like that one little bit. His partner had put up cameras and microphones in the living room and kitchen, they had debated on whether or not to put one in the bedroom, but even before he’d developed this troublesome attachment to Aggie, he had suspected he was going to end up sleeping with her to cement her trust in him and preferred that wasn't captured on tape. Now that he did have this connection with Aggie, he was particularly pleased with that decision.
“Aggie is the key to solving this case. Sebastian is only fifty-one, who knows how many more wives he can go through if we don’t stop him.” Nick would stop him. There was no other acceptable outcome. And then he’d find a way to fix things with Aggie.
* * * * *
2:20 P.M.
Day or night, Emily couldn’t really tell the difference anymore.
To her it was all just time.
She had gone numb.
She didn’t feel, didn’t think, didn’t try to escape any longer.
Escape was futile. It was never going to happen, so what was the point of even trying? There was no point, of course, none at all.
So she just sat here. Scrunched up in a corner of the pool. Huddling under the piece of plastic because it gave her a semblance of security.
It had been raining earlier but trying to shield herself from it and the accompanying drop in temperatures had never even occurred to her. At first, the thousands of drops of water had been soothing on her dry, hot, sunburned skin, but then they'd simply made her cold. She hadn’t had enough initiative to try and cover herself, so she had just gotten colder and colder. The rain was gone now, the sun and heat back, but Emily was still cold.
The cold didn’t really bother her, it helped to make her numb. And she liked numb. When she was sitting there all numb inside, she didn’t have to think about anything else.
She wished her shivering could shake all those horrible memories out of her head.
But even those memories, horrendous as they were, were fading from her mind. Emily recognized that she was dissociating because it was easier than living in the moment. Each time he came back, her beautifully constructed mental brick wall crumbled a little more, and she was afraid of what would happen when it collapsed completely.
