Chapter 1
Wednesday, February 13
Raina shut off the motor and glanced up at the puke-
green doublewide with a chunk of plywood over the front
window. The near dusk couldn't hide the broken dreams of
the trailer's occupants, Bruce and Cindy Gorman. Raina
wasn't here to see them. She was here for Josh, their eight-
year-old son.
As a children's support advocate, Raina had been
assigned to monitor Josh six months ago, when the state of
Oregon had taken temporary custody and placed the boy in
foster care. Her primary responsibility was to stay in
touch with Josh and to ensure the system did not fail him.
During that time, the Gormans had danced all the right
steps–anger management for him, parenting classes for her,
and a rehab program for both. So now Josh was back in their
care, and this was Raina's last official contact…for now.
Her heart was flip-flopping, just like it did on her
last day of high school. She was happy for Josh, but she
despised Bruce and would be glad to never see him again,
even though she knew it was petty to feel that way. Raina
wished she were more mature, more objective, like the other
CSA volunteers. At twenty, she and Jamie were the youngest
in the group. Raina had become quite fond of Josh and would
miss him terribly. She loved their long walk-and-talks
along the river path, with Josh pointing out every bug he
saw. It had been like having a little brother. Her
counselor had been right when she'd advised Raina to do
some volunteer work. Giving was the best way of receiving.
Raina stepped out of the Volvo and pulled in a quick
breath of frigid February air. The smell of dog shit
assaulted her senses. So much for her lofty ideals. She
hurried to the door, hoping the dog, a Boxer named Brat,
was either locked in the bathroom or deep in the woods
behind the trailer. Raina shivered in the cold foul
silence. The house was at least a half mile from the
nearest neighbor.
Bruce pulled the door open a few inches before she could
knock. "Josh is in bed, so come back tomorrow." His voice
was raspy from a lifetime of cigarettes, and his hairline
had gone north on both sides. Bruce should have been a big
man, but years of slouching took inches off his height and
an old meth habit left him scrawny in a way that rehab
couldn't fix.
"I just need a few minutes with him, so I can make some
final notes."
"I told you, he's not feeling well," Bruce said through
clenched teeth.
"Then all the more reason I should see him."
"Not now." Bruce started to close the door.
Raina stood her ground. "The custody order isn't final
yet. They're waiting for my report. And it's not convenient
for me to come back tomorrow. I have classes." She sounded
braver than she felt.
"Don't threaten me, you snot-nosed little–"
Cindy's voice boomed from the kitchen. "Let her in,
Bruce. Might as well get it over with."
Raina wasn't sure she still wanted to enter the trailer.
She needed to know that Josh was okay, that the boy hadn't
changed his mind about going home to his parents. He had
been quite excited on Sunday when she and Josh's caseworker
had picked him up to bring him here. The image of him
standing on the ramshackle porch with his faded duffle bag,
looking uncertain, haunted her. Raina had not slept well
since.
"Josh, come out here for a minute!" Cindy yelled down
the hallway. Raina cringed. Her mother had been a screamer
too.
Bruce kept the door blocked. He turned his head and
hollered, "Stay in bed!" Then to Cindy, he
yelled, "Goddammit, woman. Don't contradict me. That little
bitch is not coming in, and Josh is not coming out." Bruce
turned back to Raina and growled through the partially open
door. "You better forget you came out here tonight. And
this conversation better not end up in the file."
Then it hit Raina. The paranoia, the anger, the need to
dominate. She knew all the signs. She had witnessed them
plenty as a child. Bruce was using again. He was high on
meth right now. Oh dear God.
Raina took a step back. Every muscle in her body wanted
to run for the car. It had always been her instinct as a
child too. It was a mistake. Meth dopers often had
predatory responses. If you ran, they attacked. Raina still
had the scars. Her mother had been quite quick on her feet.
Raina coached herself to stay calm. Just nod and move
away slowly. Don't make eye contact. Get to the car and
lock the doors.
She took a step back. What about Josh? Was he okay?
Panic pushed out of her stomach and into her throat. Had
they already abused him? Is that why Bruce didn't want her
to see the boy?
Without thinking, she called out, "Josh, are you okay?"
Oh shit. Why had she done that?
"Fuck you." Bruce leaned out the door, no longer caring
that she could see his hugely dilated pupils. "You don't
know a fucking thing. Get the fuck out of here and keep
your fucking mouth shut." Spit flew from his mouth with
every f. "If we lose Josh again, I'll fucking kill you."
Raina inched back, a half step at a time, feeling for
the edge of the porch with her toes.
"Move, you little bitch." Bruce lunged through the door.
Raina turned and ran.
It was only thirty feet to her car, but every step on
the dirt path felt sticky and treacherous in the near dark.
Heart pounding, she reached the Volvo, yanked open the
door, and jumped in. Her knee slammed into the steering
wheel, but she didn't have time to process the pain. Eyes
watering, Raina hit the automatic door lock and started the
engine.
Only then did she look up. Bruce was barreling toward
her, about ten feet from the car. Raina shoved the
gearshift into reverse and hit the gas. As she cranked the
wheel left, aiming for the gravel turnaround tucked into
the trees, Bruce slipped and went down hard. Raina let out
her breath, jammed the transmission into drive, and sped
down the gravel road, bouncing through every pothole
instead of taking the time to go around. For a fleeting
second, she wished she had run over Bruce while he was down.
Raina cursed herself for coming out here. She had been
advised to see Josh only in neutral settings. She cursed
herself for handling the situation so badly. Drug addicts!
Disease or not, sometimes she hated all of them. Dead
mother included.
Raina checked her rear view mirror for headlights but
didn't see anyone coming behind her. Maybe Bruce had hurt
himself when he fell. Or perhaps he'd decided to take out
his anger on Cindy because she was closer and easier. Raina
desperately hoped he would leave Josh alone.
She decided to go straight to the police. She couldn't
prove that Josh was in immediate danger, but Bruce had
threatened to kill her. That had to be against the
law.The bastard. He'd better not hurt Josh. As soon
as she was on the main road, she would call Mariah Martin,
Josh's caseworker at Child Welfare Services. Mariah would
get a court order and get Josh out of that hellhole by
tomorrow.
Distracted by her scattered thoughts, Raina almost
missed the single curve in the quarter-mile driveway. She
braked and pulled hard on the steering wheel, barely
keeping the car from smacking into a giant Douglas fir. It
was dark now, and she was anxious to get back into the
bright lights and safety of Eugene city streets. She didn't
want to die in one of those mysterious single-car
accidents, so she kept her speed reasonable. Raina checked
the rearview mirror again. No car lights behind directly
her. With Pine Grove Road only a hundred yards ahead, she
started to relax.
Out of nowhere came a loud popping sound. Not quite like
a gunshot, but loud enough to jumpstart her heart into
frantic mode. Instinctively, Raina pressed the gas pedal,
but the car didn't respond well. It pulled to the left and
made a grinding sound. Oh no. She'd blown a tire and was
riding on the rim. She had probably run over something
sharp. Shit, shit, shit! Of all times.
Raina tried to keep driving, thinking it would be better
to reach the road, but the grinding was unbearable, so she
coasted to a stop. Now what? She knew how to change a flat
tire; her grandmother had made sure of that. Yet the sliver
of moonlight wasn't enough, and crazy Bruce was still back
there somewhere. Be smart, she told herself. Call for help.
Raina reached into her purse for her cell phone,
thinking she would call Jamie first. Jamie would bring her
dad. Mr. Conner would have a spotlight in the back of his
truck and make short work of changing the tire.
The call wouldn't go through. Damn! Seven miles out of
town, and she couldn't pick up a tower. She tried again.
Dead air. Raina decided to step out of the Volvo just long
enough to try the call again. After a quick glance back
down the road, she unlocked the door and pressed speed-dial
#2. As she reached for the handle, the door flew open and a
powerful force yanked her from the car.
Raina started to cry out, but her head smacked against
the hard metal at the top of the door opening. Searing pain
paralyzed her voice, and all that came out was a pathetic
mewing sound. A calloused hand with an odd metal smell
clamped over her mouth. Raina struggled, but a big arm
squeezed her like a python holding its next meal. Fingers
plunged into her hair, then slammed her head against the
side of the car.
More searing pain. Oh God, he was going to kill her.
Bam! Her head smashed into the car again. As she passed
out, Raina's last thought was, I love you, Jamie.
Chapter 2
Thursday, February 14
Kera was talking, but Jackson wasn't listening. He
couldn't stop thinking about sex. After two years of near
celibacy at the end of an angry marriage, he had met this
incredible woman and now he was obsessed. He was sharing
Valentine's Day and a plate of tasty beef tournedos with a
gorgeous intelligent woman–and all he could think about was
getting to her house and getting naked.
"I'm sorry, this isn't interesting to you." Kera looked
concerned for a moment, then laughed. "But you really
should try to hide it better." Her green eyes twinkled with
amusement. In the short time he'd known her, Jackson had
been surprised again and again by how resilient this woman
was.
He reached for her hand. "I know. I'm sorry. You look
incredible, and it's distracting." With her wide
cheekbones, full lips, and big alert eyes, Kera looked like
she could be part Native American, but he had never asked.
Tonight her long copper hair was swept up, exposing her
neck, although it was the tight black dress that got him
going.
"Thanks. It's nice to have an opportunity to get out of
the scrubs," Kera said. She was a nurse at Planned
Parenthood. They'd met five months ago when he'd responded
to a bombing at the clinic. When one of her clients had
been murdered, they'd been thrown together by a series of
escalating events.
Jackson tried to get back into her good graces by
thinking of something personal to talk about. "How's
Danette?"
Kera's smile brightened. "She's fine. Except she hates
being pregnant. At eight months, she is getting really
uncomfortable."
"I know you already told me this, but when is she due?"
"March 15th. The Ides of March."
Jackson had a wicked thought. He leaned in and
whispered, "Then you'll be a GILF."
It took her a moment, then she burst into laughter. The
couple at the next table glanced over. Kera gave him a
look. "Let's get out of here."
Jackson grinned and reached for his wallet. He felt
lucky that she found him attractive. He always thought of
himself as getting by: six feet and a little heavy at two-
twenty, with a slightly too-big nose and a scar over his
left eye. Could have been worse though.
A few minutes later as he paid the check, his cell phone
rang. Jackson glanced at the name on the screen. Denise
Lammers. Jackson wasn't on call tonight, so it wouldn't
hurt to wait an hour or so before he got back to her. He
answered anyway. "Jackson here."
"It's Sergeant Lammers. There's a body in a car at the
wildlife observation lookout on Greenhill Road. Young and
female. Patrol says she looks bludgeoned."
The news hit him like a punch in the chest. It had been
a bad five months for young and female in Eugene.
Lammers continued, "I know it's not your rotation, but I
need you to take this case and wrap it up quickly. We're
already taking heat for the unresolved rape cases, and the
public is still upset about the dead schoolgirls."
Jackson's chest tightened. The dead schoolgirls had been
his case, and he had been too slow to put it
together. "Will you call Evans, McCray, and Schakowski? Get
them out to the scene tonight." Jackson would pull in other
detectives if he didn't have a suspect in the next twenty-
four hours, but he wanted to start with his core team.
"They're next on my list."
"I'm on my way." Jackson stood and gave Kera a tight-
lipped smile.
"A homicide?" She grabbed her coat and slid out of the
booth.
"I'm sorry. Happy Valentine's Day." Jackson kissed her
fabulous lips. "You probably won't see me for a week or so."
"Thanks for letting me know up front," she said. "Do you
need help with Katie?"
Kera was trying to befriend his fourteen-year-old
daughter, but Katie was not responding. The girl still had
hopes that her parents would get back together, so she
figured being nice to Dad's new girlfriend was not in her
best interest.
Jackson put his arm around Kera. "Thanks, but I'll
probably let her stay with Renee for a few days." His soon-
to-be-ex-wife had managed to stay sober long enough to earn
visiting privileges. Jackson had no faith it would last,
but Katie might as well get what quality mother time she
could.
As they left the restaurant and moved toward his
lovingly restored, midnight blue '69 GTO, Jackson began to
process the homicide's possibilities. An angry boyfriend or
a drug deal gone bad were the most likely scenarios.
Jackson felt himself hurrying. As much as he hated the
sight of a dead young female, the need to find her killer
stirred his blood and made him forget his other needs.