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He must have come from the backyard. Which butted up to a row of trees, then the backyards of another neighborhood.
We’d exhaust the possibility for cameras in that direction, but I had to say I wasn’t hopeful. He’d never been caught on a camera before. What were the chances of it happening now?
“Do you think he plans to come back and finish the job?” Maggie asked as I made my way back down the driveway, ready to go home, shower, caffeinate, and get back to work. There was no hope of sleep with a lead like this.
“I honestly don’t know. Gonna have to talk to Gawen,” I said. “See if he can update the profile for us.”
“I’d be happy to sit on her house, if need be,” Maggie said.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, giving her a nod, and heading home to get cleaned up.
By the time the sun was high in the sky, I’d learned a lot about our survivor.
Mari Yates.
Twenty-six.
She was a physical therapist working at a smaller, niche wellness center geared toward the wealthy. I didn’t know her salary, but it had to be decent for her to own her own home already. Small as it might be, real estate wasn’t cheap in the area.
She wasn’t and had never been married, had no criminal history, not even a parking ticket, and had no known connection to Madison or Ashley, the previous victims.
I needed to dig further into that. But I wasn’t going to get far without Mari to speak to about it.
She would show up for a formal interview. I had to give her time.
Things felt urgent to me with finally having a damn lead on this case after so long. But I had to understand that things were likely going very slow for her. The hospital, finding a place to stay, telling her friends and family what happened, calling out of work.
She needed to sleep and recover.
I had to be understanding of that.
It was completely possible I wouldn’t see her for another day or two.
That didn’t mean I didn’t have things to work on. Researching the “spot” on the guy’s eye, the zip tie holder that was mentioned, calling around to the local hospitals and clinics.
“Vaughn,” a voice called a few hours later, making me glance up from my computer screen where I was looking at the device the survivor had mentioned for the zip ties.
“Yeah?” I asked even as I swiveled my chair around.
And there she was. Being led in by an officer.
Mari Yates.
Bruises covered with makeup, and with a determined look in her eye.
Everything about her right then was telling me one thing:I am going to help you catch this guy.
I prayed to God that was true.
Before anyone else got hurt.
CHAPTER THREE
Mari
The hospital had been too much and not enough at the same time.
Too loud.
