Page 65 of One Final Target

“We’re playing catch-up here, Jodie. But before long, I plan to be in the lead.”

“Thanks.” She stood, smoothed her ruffled hair, and startedto pace.Why did I ask such a stupid question?I don’t have a garage. Someone could have put the trackers on the car anytime during the night.The thought of this guy working on her car when she had no idea, besides making her angry, made her feel doubly exposed.

“We sent what we removed to the FBI. They can trace the purchaser much faster than we can. Chances are good we’ll find out who bought them.”

“You’re thinking it’s someone other than Collins?” Jodie asked.

“I don’t know what to think. It’s just more and more obvious Collins has help.” Mike’s voice grew muffled for a moment; then he came back. “I just got an email from the coroner. They removed the corpses from the freezer. They both had gunshot wounds to the head. They were executed.”

Jodie closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. “Poor Jukebox.”

“I’m sorry, Jodie,” Mike said. “This guy Collins is turning out to be a lot more than a computer geek. Nothing I read indicates he’s capable of doing all this.”

“Yeah, whenever a serial killer is caught, all the neighbors say, ‘But he was such a nice guy.’”

“I’m just hoping the trackers will give us a clue as to who his partner is.”

Jodie said nothing.

“Are you still okay with the safe house?”

“It’s probably wise. Will I get my car back?”

“I’m thinking it’s better to leave it parked at your house. Kind of a decoy. You won’t need it in hiding anyway.”

Jodie bit her tongue. She saw the logic in the ruse but hated it just the same.

“I’d like to have some techs go over your apartment, just to beon the safe side,” Mike continued. “I’ll grab a couple, then send a black-and-white to pick you up, say after lunch?”

“What do you think he put in my apartment?”

“At this point nothing would surprise me. Your computer needs to be examined, and your phone, again. It may be nothing. I want to be sure. Cloning phones is too easy and this punk is a tech magician.”

Jodie wanted to scream. This maniac had taken just about everything from her, including her ability to be independent, to stay in her own home.

“You okay, Jodie?”

“No, not really.” She closed and opened her free hand, wishing she could smash a fist into Dennis Collins’s face. Not very Christian but certainly very real.

“We’ll catch this guy—I promise.”

The call ended and Jodie worked to calm down.

“Are you all right?” Estella asked.

“No, but I’m trying.”

“Nothing else you can do. While you’re trying, can you help me pack up the den? Manual labor always calms me down.”

Impatient but realizing there was nothing she could do to speed things up, Jodie busied herself helping Estella pack.

“You’re not actually moving for another three months,” Jodie asked. “Why pack now?”

“Gus and I lived in this house for thirty years. There’s a lot of stuff to go through, a lot of stuff to get rid of. I wanted to take my time.”

They were in the den sorting through photos, DVDs, and books.

Jodie couldn’t help but notice one particular photo, because heruncle Mike had the same one. She picked up the old photo of an academy graduation. Mike, Gus, and Jonah, young, newly minted police officers, all together in the second row, smiled. Jodie’s throat thickened and she sniffled. So much promise in this photo. Now Gus was dead, and Jonah sold real estate. At least Mike still carried on. But it made her sad.

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