Danielle Steel - Southern Lights

Halfway into the week Alexa was relieved that Savannah was with her father. Her days had been insane. They had found another victim they could link to Luke Quentin. This time, a nineteen-year-old girl. He had sixteen victims that they knew of, and the forensic lab was working overtime on DNA. The task force was growing under the supervision of the FBI, since several states were involved now. Jack had a dozen investigators working on the case full time. The trial was three months away.

On Thursday Alexa met with Judy Dunning, the public defender, to discuss discovery with her. Alexa had to give her the evidence she had, all of which was incredibly damning. Alexa tried to convince Judy to get him to plead guilty, and Judy explained that she was beginning to think he had been framed, possibly by someone he had had bad dealings with in prison, who had sworn vengeance on him. She said that she was convinced herself that he hadn’t done it. There were too many victims, and suddenly every dead girl in half a dozen states was being blamed on him. She told Alexa that he was a very sensitive man, and of course he didn’t want to plead guilty, if he hadn’t committed the crimes. Alexa stared at her as though she was out of her mind. It was clear to her what had happened. Luke Quentin had turned his smoldering sexual gaze on her, had done his sociopathic dance, and she was falling in love with him, in a frighteningly innocent way. It was what he did, and probably how he had seduced all his victims, made each one feel special and like the only woman in the world-for those few minutes, until he killed her. He wasn’t going to kill Judy Dunning, but he had blinded her to the truth. Maybe it was what she needed to defend him, but Alexa came out of the meeting shaking her head.

“Where have you been?” Jack asked her when he ran into her in the hallway.

“On a UFO, eating Twinkies,” she said, with a grin at him. “Doing drugs again, counselor?”

“No, but the public defender is. She just spent a half hour trying to convince me of Luke Quentin’s innocence. What’s worse is that she believes it. He sure has cast his spell on her.”

“Good. She can visit him in prison. That happens, you know. Women fall for them, no matter how heinous their crimes, and visit them in the slammer for years. We just got our seventeenth victim.” The numbers grew almost every day.

“I feel like I’m following a presidential election,” she said as they stopped at the coffee machine. She had already had too many cups that day. “How many states do we have now?”

“Nine,” he said with a grim look. “The guy is amazing, and I don’t think we’re through yet.”

“We’re not overestimating him, are we?” She didn’t want to get sloppy, and start pinning crimes on him that weren’t his, and blow their case. She had “reasonable doubt” and a jury to think of.

“I think we may be underestimating him. So far it all matches up. We’ve got his DNA now with every victim.” She nodded and went back to her office. She was there until nine o’clock that night, and had been all week. She was at her desk on Friday until ten-thirty, going over all the forensic reports from every state. It all looked solid. Nothing surprised her anymore, except that he wouldn’t plead. He was still claiming he was innocent, and even more incredible, his attorney believed him. But no one else on the planet, and surely no jury, would. Alexa had a good case.

She was exhausted when she got home that night, dragging her heavy briefcase. It was nearly eleven. She had talked to Savannah at six o’clock. She’d had a great week in Vermont with Tom, and she was coming home the next day.

Alexa sifted through her mail and was about to toss it on the hall table unopened, and then a familiar envelope caught her eye. She tore it open and held the sheet of paper in a trembling hand. In the same boldfaced type, printed on a computer, were the words “I’m coming to get you now, and then you will be mine. Say goodbye to your mom.” Alexa stood in the hallway with her coat on, shaking from head to foot as she read it again and again. What did he know about them? Why was he writing to her? Was it just a prank, or was Luke Quentin torturing them? There was no way to know, no way to trace the letters. She called the doorman, and he said that no one had dropped anything off for her. Whoever he was, he was getting into the building and slipping them under her door. It was frightening beyond belief. And what if sending Savannah to school with Thad Lewicki wasn’t good enough protection? What if someone got her in the end?

She pulled her cell phone out of her bag, sat down on the couch, and called her mother. She hated to worry her, but Muriel had a level head. Alexa read the latest letter to her, and asked her what she thought. Just how panicked should she be? She was too frightened herself right now to make sense.

“I think you need to take it very seriously,” her mother said in a somber tone. “If Quentin is behind it, he has nothing to lose. And he wants to get back at you. You can’t take the risk.”

“What am I going to do?” Alexa asked her, as tears slid down her cheeks. “Should I give up the case? I just want Savannah safe.” This wasn’t just a case now; it was a nightmare, if it was endangering her child.

“It’s too late for that. Turning the case over to someone else won’t change anything. You’ve already brought the roof crashing down on him. If they convict, he’s gone for a hundred years. He’s after you and he wants revenge. And even if he is masterminding this, whoever is dropping off the letters may never do anything to her, other than scare you, but you can’t take the chance.”

“So what do I do?” Alexa felt overwhelmed, terrified, and confused. This was more than she’d bargained for. She was trying to seek justice for the families of all those girls, and in doing so had put her own at risk.

“Get her out of New York.”

“Are you serious?” Alexa sounded shocked.

“I’ve never been more serious in my life. And get a deputy for you. At least till after the trial. It should calm down after that, eventually. It always does when the trial is over. He’ll adjust. But right now, you’re both in danger. You can stay here yourself if you want, and keep the case, but get Savannah out of town.” Her mother sounded frightened too.

“Where?” All they had was each other. And she wasn’t about to put Savannah in a witness protection program all alone, to stay God knew where, with people she didn’t know. And she wanted to see the trial through herself, if she could, without putting Savannah further at risk. She wasn’t as worried about herself. And no one was threatening her.

“Send her to Charleston with Tom,” her mother said quietly, and all she could hear at the other end was her daughter’s sharp intake of breath.

“I can’t do that,” Alexa said in a hoarse voice, brushing the tears off her cheek. This was serious business now, and she had to force herself to think. “Luisa would never let him,” Alexa said quietly. “And he wouldn’t have the balls to either. He cut us out of his life ten years ago. He doesn’t want her back.”

“You have no other choice,” her mother said in an iron tone. “And neither does he. Your daughter’s life could be at stake. Maybe this is only a prank to torture you, or scare you off the case. But neither of you can take that chance. You’ve got to send her away. This will be no life for her here, and it’s too stressful. And for you too, worrying about her. Personally, I wish you would give up the case, but to be honest, I think it’s too late. But Savannah doesn’t belong in the middle of it. And you’ll be worried sick if she’s here.” It was true. She already was. The words of the letter were burned into her mind. Say goodbye to your Mom. “Is she still in Vermont with Tom?”

“Yes. He’s bringing her back tomorrow night.”

“Tell him not to bring her back, just take her home with him. Or maybe he has relatives in the South that she could stay with. But she’d be better off with him, much as I hate to say it. The only thing I know for sure is that she can’t come back here. Not now. Not till after the trial, and hopefully after that, things will calm down. Call Tom, Alexa. You have no other choice.”

“Shit.” It was the last thing on earth she wanted to do. She didn’t want to send Savannah away, and surely not with him. But if her mother was right, and something happened to her, she would never forgive herself. “It’s too late to call him tonight,” Alexa said practically, “and I don’t want to talk to him with Savannah sitting next to him.”

“Then call him in the morning, but tell him not to bring her home.” Alexa sighed deeply at her end. This was a high price to pay for sending a serial killer to prison. But her mother was right, she couldn’t put Savannah at risk. She had made her own choices, with the career she’d chosen, and she took full responsibility for it. She wanted Luke Quentin in prison. But more than that, she wanted Savannah safe.

“I’ll call him tomorrow,” she said with sadness and resignation. She was going to miss her, but she didn’t even know yet if Tom would take her. There was a good chance he’d say he couldn’t. He had Luisa to answer to.

“Good. And call Jack Jones tonight. Tell him to put a cop at the door of your apartment.”

“I’m okay, Mom. I have the chain on, and I’m not going anywhere.” But after she hung up, she called Jack anyway, and told him what had happened. He listened, and agreed with her mother.

“If he is behind the letters, and I’m beginning to think he is, I don’t think he’ll have the balls to try anything at this point, and I’m not sure he has that kind of power, to make someone else grab her and hurt her. He’s not connected to the mob. He’s an ex-con and a sociopath. This is his deal, no one else’s. He probably contacted someone he knows indirectly, and is doing this to rattle you, with nothing behind it. He hasn’t had any visitors, but he can get word out of jail through someone else. It’s probably just a sick game he’s playing. But it’s a lot to put your kid through. I think you should send her away, if you have somewhere to send her, and I’ll assign a couple of cops to you. I’m sorry, Alexa, I know this is hard for you.”

She nodded and tears rolled down her cheeks again. Savannah was her whole life and she didn’t want anything to happen to her. She hoped that Jack was right and if it was Quentin, he was only trying to scare her, but she couldn’t take the chance, and if it wasn’t Quentin, it was scary anyway. Jack told her he’d have a plainclothesman at her door in half an hour. He agreed with her mother on that too, although Alexa wasn’t nearly as worried about herself. It would take a lot of guts to kill the prosecutor, and it wasn’t Quentin’s MO. Savannah was, if he could have gotten to her himself. And Jack was probably right about that too. Whoever was dropping the letters off might never have the guts to grab her. But who knew? And worrying about it day and night would be hard on them both. She was better off somewhere else, although Alexa knew Savannah wouldn’t be happy about it. She wouldn’t want to leave her friends, mother, or school, especially for the last few months of senior year. It just wasn’t fair.

Alexa was awake until the early hours of the morning. She slept fitfully for a few hours, and she woke up and called Tom at seven. He had the deep voice that he always had in the morning, and when she asked, he said Savannah was in the other room. They were having breakfast together in half an hour, and were hoping to get a few runs in before he drove back to the city at noon. He said he’d have her back at seven. His flight to Charleston was at nine.

“That’s why I called,” Alexa said, sounding exhausted. “You can’t bring her home.” She told him what had happened, and he was as concerned as she was. She tried to reassure him, but it wasn’t a good situation, and it was impossible to predict.

“What about you, Lexie? Are you going to be okay?” He hadn’t called her that since she left, not even by e-mail.

“I just want to convict the bastard. I owe it to all those families to send him to prison for the next hundred years. But I don’t owe them risking my own kid.”

“No, you don’t,” he said solemnly. “Are you sure you don’t want to get off the case?”

“I’ll be okay. It’ll be over soon. The trial is set for May. She’d have to stay with you till then.” She said it in a flat, unhappy voice.

“I understand. If it’s safer for her to stay longer, that’s fine too.” It was the only conversation they’d had in ten years, but he was being more human about it than she’d expected, and he sounded concerned for both of them, and upset.

“Can you really do it?” She didn’t want to ask him about Luisa, but they both knew what she meant.