Valerie walked up to one of the patrol cars, but she didn’t have the time to be dressing down one of the officers for being overzealous, even if they did deserve it. The mistake had already been made.

  “Is there any evidence someone’s inside?” she asked.

  One of the officers shook his head. “No, Agent Law. No sign.”

  Valerie peered across the road to the house. It was like any other at first glance. And yet unlike any other. It played host to a violent killer, if Valerie’s theory was correct.

  It was the home of Hal Borchardt and his deceased mother, Miriam.

  “Will, you stay here for now, okay?” Valerie said. “Charlie and I will go in.”

  Will nodded, though Valerie could see that he felt conflicted about not being able to assist more directly. Valerie trusted him implicitly, but he was still an academic, and she and Charlie were trained agents.

  Valerie checked her gun in her holster, and watched Charlie as he did the same with his.

  “You ready?” Charlie asked.

  “Let’s do this,” Valerie said. She was part exhilarated, feeling mentally at the top of her game for the first time in weeks. But there was still apprehension. She felt it in the very fabric of her being; she was about to enter the home of the killer they had been chasing all this time.

  They walked across the street together, their guns still resting in their holsters. After all, Hal Borchardt was only a suspect. They didn’t want to go barging in and waving guns in his face. It was that type of overzealous behavior, that got many an agent into trouble. When on a case for some time, agents had to be careful when the endgame came. It was too easy to get carried away and make a fatal mistake, running straight into the barrel of a gun when so close to an arrest.

  They walked up the path in the yard and came to the door. Valerie kept her eyes trained on the windows, looking for any sign of life. There was none. This was a place life had long since abandoned.

  Valerie then saw something.

  She looked down at the bottom of the closed front door. There was a streak of blood across it.

  “Charlie?” she said, pointing to it.

  “I’d say that gives us probable cause,” he said, drawing his weapon.

  Valerie agreed. She drew her gun and nodded to Charlie to give him the go ahead for entry.

  Charlie stepped back and then thrust his foot against the door, it was old and relented immediately. The lock splintered, and Charlie rushed straight in. Valerie was close behind.

  “FBI, Hal Borchardt, come out with your hands up!” Charlie shouted.

  They waited in the lobby of the house. All they could hear was a creak occasionally sounding somewhere. Nothing else moved.

  Valerie looked down and saw more blood inside. It looked like someone had lost a decent amount.

  Her heart sank. Had he claimed another victim?

  Valerie swept each room slowly, methodically, but each room came up empty. Once they headed up the stairs to the top floor, Valerie moved with more apprehension.

  The lights were off and the blinds were down. With the sun setting outside, it was a dark affair. The corners were pockets of shadows that seemed to stare at Valerie as she passed.

  She half imagined a pair of arms appearing from the corner of each room, and then grabbing her and pulling her into a warm, rotten embrace.

  There was one room left, and Valerie hoped that it would contain the still living body of Hal’s current target.

  Valerie decided to go in first this time. She stood with Charlie to the rear and pushed the door open, her revolver held tightly in her hand, stretched out in front of her.

  The room was Hal Borchardt’s mother’s. When Valerie had gotten her details from the hospital, she’d discovered that her name was Miriam.

  It looked like she was religious. A set of rosary beads sat on a small dresser, at the foot of a mirror. The room was cozy, but not too large or filled with junk. It was simple.

  Valerie caught a faint whiff of the old lady’s perfume. She wondered for a moment if anything else of people lingers beyond their possessions after death.

  She lowered her gun.

  “He’s not here,” Valerie said, disappointed.

  “Whose blood is that downstairs?” Charlie asked.

  “Either another victim or he’s been hurt, maybe during a recent attack.”

  “It’s nighttime,” Charlie said. “The blood is fresh; he’s definitely been here. But why isn’t here right now? Shouldn’t he be going to bed if he’s in the vicinity?”

  “That makes me think the blood is from a victim,” Valerie thought out loud.

  “But who?”

  Valerie thought it through for a moment. “It must have been someone who randomly came by, like a door-to-door salesman. I doubt it was a neighbor.”

  “Why?” Charlie said.

  “Well, I’ve been giving it some thought. The killer only murders when someone crosses his path and they look vaguely like Maria Johansson, the nurse. I think he’s just like Michael Wainwright He has an impulsive streak. It’s never planned. If Hal has attacked someone on his own doorstep, it’s because they were here uninvited.”

  Valerie paced in the room for a second and scratched her cheek as she tried to put it together.

  “Remember the jogger he murdered?” she asked Charlie.

  “Yeah.”

  “When she phoned 911, he was on the ground writhing about,” Valerie said. “He’s clearly deranged. I think he’s most likely murdering the victims, not just because he thinks they look like Maria Johansson, but because his delusion runs so deep, that he thinks they are Maria Johansson. That would explain the impulsivity of it.”

  “That’s why he’s not going out and seeking these people like a true serial killer does, hunting. It can’t have been a neighbor who knocked on the door, because he would have known who they were and that they weren’t the nurse. It always has to be a stranger and he convinces himself he has to kill them again because the nurse represents the death of his mother, and he wants to erase that from the world!”

  “So you think this guy isn’t culpable for his actions?” Charlie asked.

  “Possibly,” Valerie said. “Right now, regardless, he’s lethally dangerous. We need to put out an APB through the local PD for Hal Borchardt. He’s armed, dangerous, and he may even have a hostage with him.”

  “A hostage?” Charlie said sounding surprised. “But he usually just kills.”

  “My hunch is, he attacked the woman at the door, then realized what he’d done. It was too dangerous to stay. He’s either moved the body or she’s alive and he’s taking her somewhere to finish the job.”

  Charlie rushed downstairs to speak with the police officers on the street.

  Valerie turned to the dresser next to Miriam Borchardt’s bed. She picked up a small picture frame, popped out the photograph and put it in her pocket.

  Maybe he’ll talk with his mother, if it comes to it, Valerie thought to herself.

  Then another thought occurred. Days ago, she’d theorized that the killer was off his meds, and that this was playing into his delusions.

  Valerie walked into the bathroom on that level. She opened the bathroom cabinet and saw several packets of heavy anti-depressants and anti-psychotic medications. Going by the dates on them, Hal had indeed skipped his meds.

  She shook her head. She almost felt sorry for him. Normally she couldn’t sympathize with a killer. But Hal… If her theory was right, he wasn’t really in control of his actions. He felt like he was being hounded, seeing the same face of the nurse over and over again.

  But that didn’t absolve him of what he’d done. Of how many families he’d destroyed with the flick of a knife.

  Valerie moved out of the bathroom as Charlie came back into the house, this time with Will in tow.

  “Charlie filled me in on everything,” Will said. “It looks like Hal is the killer, but now we have to find where he is, and if his next victim is with him…”

  “Agreed, but we don’t have anything to go on, yet,” Charlie said. “Unless… Could there be something here that would suggest where he might go?”

  There was a silence for a moment as they mulled it over. “I think you might be onto something, Charlie,” Will said. He looked deep in thought for a moment.

  Valerie sensed he was thinking through an idea.

  Will started to look around without saying anything.

  “What are you looking for?” Valerie asked.

  “Why did the killer come back here after roaming around all this time?” Will asked, clearly with an answer already in mind.

  Valerie thought for a moment.

  “Safety,” Charlie said, thoughtfully. “When we’re going through something stressful, we all pine for our home. Especially where we grew up, and it looks like Hal spent his entire life here.”

  “Yes,” Valerie said. “It makes sense. He came home because he needed somewhere to feel safe. Then, a woman appears at his door, and he attacks her… He couldn’t stay here anymore after that. But what if he took the woman to another place? Somewhere that he connected deeply with his past… Another place of refuge… Like he was trying to relive a happy memory connected with his mother.”

  “Which one is his room?” Will asked.

  Charlie pointed to the third door on the right.

  Will walked in and then reappeared almost immediately, but now he was holding a picture frame.

  “He kept this by his bedside,” Will said, showing it to Valerie.

  Valerie looked at the photograph. It showed a boy, presumably Hal, standing with his mother and father. His hand was holding a large cotton candy. They were smiling.

  Behind them was a fairground.

  “Take it out of the frame,” Valerie said. “There might be something written on the back.”

  Will did just that.

  “You’re right,” he said, handing it to Valerie.

  On the back of the photograph it read “the best day of my life.”

  Footsteps suddenly sounded on the staircase. It was one of the police officers from outside.

  “Agent Law, one of the neighbors said he saw Hal driving away from here about an hour ago with a woman in the backseat.”

  Valerie turned to Charlie. “He’s still got the woman with him.”

  “We don’t have much time,” Will said. “He could kill her at any moment, if he hasn’t already.”

  Valerie looked down at the photograph again.

  “The best day…” she said, trailing off before turning to the police officer with purpose. “Get me a list of every fairground in the area, now!”

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

  Valerie held onto the dashboard as Charlie zipped through the traffic at speed. Will looked on from the backseat.

  Through the windscreen a huge Ferris wheel glowed against the stark night sky as Charlie screeched the car to a halt at the gates of a bustling amusement park.

  As Valerie opened the car door and leaped out, the lights and sounds of the amusement park pinged and whizzed. She could smell cotton candy in the air; it brought back memories of her mom and dad taking her and Suzie to such places when she was young.

  Will stuck his head out of the rear passenger window. “I think I should come with you this time.”

  Valerie agreed. Time was of the essence. Hal Borchardt’s car had been found parked not far from the amusement park. This wasn’t the time to be timid. It was all hands on deck. A woman’s life was at stake.

  They were stopped by someone dressed as an old Victorian strong man at the turnstile. He was about to go into some spiel about the sights and sounds of the amusement park, but Valerie dispensed with this immediately and showed her badge.

  “FBI,” she said. “We believe a violent killer is loose inside your park.”

  The man’s face drained of color.

  “Oh no,” he said, turning and looking over his shoulder at the crowds of people laughing and moving between the rides. “Should I shut it down?”

  “Not yet,” Valerie said. “We don’t want to spook him into doing something.”

  “We’ll handle this,” Charlie said alongside Valerie. “If we need the park evacuated, we’ll let you know.”

  Valerie, Will, and Charlie passed through the turnstile. She could smell the cotton candy now mixing with roasted peanuts and the unmistakable smell of hot dogs.

  “Which way?” Charlie asked, looking through the crowds.

  “We need to split up,” Valerie said. “You and Will check out the east side of the park; I’ll check the west.”

  “Will you be…” Will began asking.

  “This is what I do, Will,” Valerie said. “You be careful.”

  And then they split up. Charlie and Will headed towards some bumper cars and the Ferris wheel.

  Valerie moved quickly to the west side of the park.

  “Where are you, Hal Borchardt,” she said to herself as she darted from ride to ride. She was looking for a man and a wounded woman. But it was impossible to see through the crowds.

  Valerie had to stop for a moment. She had to think it through.

  Where would he go?

  People passed en masse. The rides pinged and sounded in a cacophony of delighted cheers and screams.

  But Valerie closed her eyes. She became an island of serenity in that sea of excess. She breathed deeply, and put herself in place of Hal. A man who had lost his mother. A man who felt haunted by the face of the nurse who had looked after her.

  The guilt.

  The fear.

  The paranoia.

  She let it all in.

  “You’re just a boy, Hal,” she said to herself. “You’re a boy here in this amusement park. Just like you were when your mother and father brought you here all those years ago.”

  Valerie thought back to the photograph of him holding cotton candy, smiling with his mother and father. She remembered the ride whizzing past behind in the image.

  What was it? she thought.

  Opening her eyes, she looked around for something similar. Something with red paint. Something that moved so fast the camera had only collected it as a blur in the photograph.

  She looked up.

  “The roller coaster!” she said out loud. But her voice was drowned out by those having fun around her. Wide grinning faces, wide eyes in the night.

  Valerie ran towards the roller coaster and saw it. A small stand where they were selling pink candy floss. It was just to the side of the red canopy, welcoming people onto the ride.

  The crowds parted momentarily like the Red Sea, and Valerie spied the two of them. A woman who looked sheet white, wrapped in a long coat, most probably obscuring her wounds. Her head bobbed slightly, and she looked like she was struggling to stay conscious.

  And a man sitting next to her on a bench. His arm was around her shoulders. He was eating cotton candy, and although Valerie couldn’t see it, she was convinced he was holding a knife to the woman’s side, keeping her there in place.

  Valerie walked through the passing crowds like they were swaying trees in a gleeful forest.

  The man looked up from the bench as he took a bite of his cotton candy.

  His hair was a matted mess. He looked like he hadn’t slept in many days. And his eyes… Valerie had seen that look before. It was the darting gaze of someone caught in the midst of a complete paranoid breakdown.

  Valerie walked over to the two figures and noticed beneath where the woman was sitting, blood was dripping down from the seat. She was badly injured.

  She looked up and saw Valerie. They locked eyes. Valerie nodded. And the woman’s face, full of terror, flinched. She could clearly see someone had come to help her.

  And that person was Agent Valerie Law.

  Valerie didn’t draw her weapon. One push of Hal’s knife could kill the woman next to him. She was going to have to talk him down.

  She stopped alongside the bench.

  Hal looked up at her.

  All Valerie could see was a frightened boy. But a frightened boy capable of the most violent murders.

  “Hello Hal,” Valerie said, loud enough for him to hear.

  “You… You know me?” he said.

  “I know you’re afraid,” Valerie said. “But I’m here to help you… Is that a knife you’re digging into this woman’s side?”

  Hal nodded slowly. “She’s got to die. She’s got to stop following me!”

  “I know,” Valerie said. “I’m an expert in this sort of thing. I can make her stop following you, Hal. But first, you have to give me the knife, okay?”

  “No!” he said, throwing the cotton candy to the ground. “She’ll come back then!”

  “She’s not the nurse from the hospital, Hal,” Valerie said. “She’s an innocent person you just think is the nurse. It’s because you haven’t been taking your meds. And what happened to your mom.”

  Hal stood up quickly, yanking the poor woman wrapped in the coat next to him onto her feet.

  “You lie! The meds are to control me! They’re all in on it. What they did to my mom… They killed her! And now they want to torture me!”

  He swung with the knife and Valerie darted out of the way. But he swung with his other fist and caught her on the side of the head, dazing her.

  People started screaming, seeing the killer finally among them.

  Hal grabbed the woman and put the knife to her throat. His eyes darted crazily around him.

  Valerie regained her composure.

  “Hal, let me help you…”

  “No! You’re in on it. You’re all in on it!”

  He yanked the woman backwards and dragged her into the running crowds, up to the roller coaster canopy. He swung the knife at anyone in his way and dragged the girl onto one of the carts.

  Valerie drew her gun and moved forward. But she couldn’t get a clean shot.

  “Turn this thing on or… Or she dies!” Hal screamed.

  A frightened looking man at the roller coaster, flicked a switch and the carts started moving on the track.

  Valerie only had seconds to react. She ran as fast as she could as the carts gathered speed, and she leapt onto the back one, smacking her side against the safety bar.