The Stranger You Seek - By Amanda Kyle Williams Page 0,119

is. On Poplar, I think. My name is Keye Street. Oh God, just hurry.”

And then I saw it. Headlights blinked on and the car sped in reverse away from us, past the school, and spun out onto Avery.

I was still screaming at Rauser, crying. Stay with me. Rauser, I love you too. Stay with me.

“There’s a vehicle leaving the scene fast on Avery heading toward Kirk Road,” I told the operator.

“Can you make out the vehicle?”

“No, Jesus, it’s too dark. Where the fuck is the ambulance? Rauser, don’t you die on me.”

My phone beeped to let me know a text had arrived, and I held it away from my ear to look at the screen. Just habit pure and simple. I wasn’t thinking anymore, just reacting. I felt utterly removed, as if I were watching someone else’s shattered life, registering just this escalating, surreal sense of unreality.

My fingers were so slippery with Rauser’s blood I nearly dropped my phone.

It’s just the 2 of us now, the screen said. Warmest personal regards. W.

36

Chief Connor was livid. He had scored an enormous public victory and he was not going to let anyone take that away. He glared at newly appointed Homicide Lieutenant Brit Williams as if there were an ear sticking out of his forehead. “That is absolutely not going to happen,” the chief growled. Williams had been put in charge the night Rauser was shot.

“Chief Connor,” I tried. I was standing next to Williams, in front of the huge mahogany desk in the chief’s office. “This text message I received, the rhythm and phrasing, it’s very, very Wishbone. Charlie Ramsey is a criminal, yes. He should stay in jail, yes, but—”

“And you seriously expect APD to reopen the investigation after what this city’s been through, Dr. Street? I know you have a personal interest in this. I appreciate that. We want this person just as much as you do, and I have absolutely made it understood that we will use any and all resources APD can muster in order to bring this monster to justice, but I will not reopen this painful wound on a theory that has not the slightest shred of supporting evidence. We found a weapon at Ramsey’s residence that tested positive for the blood of two victims, a weapon that had been present at every scene. The science is solid on this. We know it is the weapon. Not at one scene, not two, but present at every scene.” I looked down at my shoes. “Our killer’s in custody awaiting trial,” the chief stormed on. “And four women have come forward to say he assaulted and raped them. One of them will even testify to the ligature being a thin wire.”

“Yes, that’s exactly the point. She’s alive to testify,” I interjected, and Williams shot me a look. I went on stubbornly. “Chief, none of Wishbone’s victims were raped. No other evidence linking him to the killings was found in Charlie’s home or vehicle except an automotive carpet fiber that’s consistent with carpeting in fifteen models. You didn’t find photographs, no trophies, no bloodstains on any of his clothes, his sink, in his vehicle. You have fiber evidence and DNA linking him to the rapes. You’d have to believe that this very intelligent and organized offender is nearly flawless at one scene and stupidly careless at another. Frankly, he does not fit the profile, Chief. He never did.”

“First of all,” the chief boomed. He was on his feet now and red-faced. Connor was a big, powerful man, and when his anger was directed at you, you felt it like a physical blow. “You don’t know that any other trophies existed or that photographs were ever taken. Criminals are liars, as you well know, Dr. Street, and the only indication we have at all of pictures or video or whatever is in the letters, the boastful, lying letters of a deranged predator. Secondly, that text message you received at the park could have come from anywhere. The phone was prepaid, could have been picked up at any store for fifteen bucks. The MO of Rauser’s shooting is all wrong for Wishbone. There has never been a gun. Not once at any scene. If this guy doesn’t fit your profile, that’s your problem, not ours. We did our job. The Wishbone case is closed.” He glared at Williams. “There’s a shooter out there responsible for putting a very good friend of mine and a fellow officer down. I expect you