if she wanted to go with him to meet the retired FBI agent, Mr. Bell, and Serena did.
Gathering her things and the folder, she headed to Danielâs office. She left the folder where he could find it easily and made her way up the stairs and out the door into the parking lot.
Dominic was waiting for her. She slipped into the passenger seat. âGood morning.â
âMorning.â He offered a smile and a cup of coffee. âSweet with cream, right?â
She took a sip and sighed. âPerfect. Thanks.â
Dominic pulled from the lot and made a left. âHoward can be a crusty dude, but underneath the gruff, I think heâs a decent guy. Heâs not happy to have a copycat of the Doll Maker Killer walking the streets and is willing to answer questions and share information.â
âGood.â Serena sipped her coffee and thought about the case. âThanks for letting me come along.â
âSure.â
They continued the small talk until they pulled up to the front of Mr. Bellâs house and climbed out of the car.
Serena took in the details. Middle-class neighborhood with a quiet street. The two-story white house with green shutters looked well taken care of, but Serena was surprised by the yard. It didnât look like anyone ever did anything with it. Overgrown and neglected, it was obviously the eyesore of the neighborhood.
Mature trees lined the streets, some grouped in clusters for maximum shade and privacy, others were spread out.
She drew in a deep breath, the peaceful ambiance striking a chord within her. Dealing with what she did every day, sheâd gladly take a measure of peace wherever she could find it.
Dominic knocked on the front door.
It swung inward and a man in his late sixties with bushy gray brows and sharp blue eyes greeted them. âSee you found it okay.â
âYes. Thanks for seeing us.â Dominic shook hands with him, then Serena had her turn.
With a look up the street, then back down, keeping the door between him and the outside world, he waved them in. âThis is a first.â
Seated on the love seat next to Dominic, Serena shifted and tried not to be distracted by his nearness. Pretty soon the clutter in the room took her attention away from Dominicâs cologne.
The word âhoarderâ came to mind. But just on every available surface. At least she could see the blue shag carpet under her feet. And the place smelled musty and probably dusty, but nothing that indicated anything was dead underneath the piles of . . . stuff.
Dominic handed Howard the file heâd compiled on the current killing. âLeslie Stanton. Can you tell us what you think about this?â
The killer hunkered down on the roof of the empty house. Not exactly the prime spot for a clear shot, but it would do. Fury burned at the realization that everyone was already inside. Too late. âWell, make the best of it and get this over with.â
The killer looked through the scope of the McMillan Long Range G-30 hunting rifle. The 7mm bullet would do the trick as soon as the target stepped into view.
Howard took his time looking through the folder. As he read, his face paled and Serena saw him swallow at least three times. When he finished, he broke the silence. âItâs not Lindell.â
âWe know that, sir,â Dominic said. âLindellâs still in prison.â
Howard still seemed to be engrossed in the file in his lap. Hedidnât respond to Dominicâs statement. Instead, he muttered unintelligibly under his breath and Dominic shot Serena a questioning look. She shrugged her own confusion.
Then Howard said in a louder voice, âItâs got to be a copycat.â
âYes sir.â Dominic nodded. âWe realize that. Any idea who would want to do that?â
Howard shook his head and visibly gathered his thoughts. âNo. But you know there are the crazies out there. People who are fascinated with
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