“I talked to your husband earlier,” Adam said. “He told me the same thing, but I don’t believe him.”

“Then why’re you calling?” Annie asked. “If you don’t believe my husband, why would you trust me?”

“I … I’m not sure.” Adam’s voice was weak, almost imperceptible. “I just want to be left alone and I thought maybe—”

“The police are never going to leave you alone. You killed two people and they won’t stop looking until they’ve found you.”

“Two people?” The voice on the line had a hint of desperation and disbelief. “What do you mean, two people? Mrs. White is the only one I know about and I don’t even remember that?”

“What about the janitor, Raymond Ronson?” Annie said. “You killed him at the school yesterday.”

Adam took a sharp breath. “Mr. Ronson?” He breathed heavily, quickly. “I killed Mr. Ronson too? Yesterday?”

Annie couldn’t be sure if the man feigned innocence, or if he actually didn’t know, but he seemed genuinely shocked to hear the news.

Adam continued, his voice pleading, “Why would I hurt Mr. Ronson? He was always kind to me.” He paused. “It’s the voices. Sometimes they tell me to do things, then later I forget they spoke to me. Then sometimes it all comes rushing back at once and I remember certain things, but only vaguely. This has been going on a long time. You have to believe me.”

“Why should I believe you, Adam?”

Adam’s voice took on a note of sadness. “You don’t have to. If only you understood, then you might. I have blackout periods where I do things I regret later. I can’t help it.”

Annie spoke soothingly. “Then give yourself up and get some help.”

“I … I can’t. They’ll lock me up.”

“Isn’t that better than killing more innocent people?”

“Perhaps,” Adam said, his voice a whisper. “Perhaps it is, but I don’t have the strength.”

“Think about your mother, Adam. Would she want you to continue killing people?”

“No, she wouldn’t, but she said I need to decide for myself. She told me to do what I think is best for me.”

“And what do you think is best for you, Adam?”

“You’re starting to sound like my shrink. Dr. Zalora used to ask me that a lot.”

“And what did you tell him?”

Adam gave a long sigh. “I’ve never been faced with this before. The things I did in the past were minor compared to what I’ve done now.”

“You must make a decision.” Annie spoke firmly, but carefully. “We can get you some real help.”

“There’s no help. I’ve tried everything.” He inhaled sharply and paused, then spoke low, in a hoarse voice. “I think I might’ve killed someone else today. It’s coming back to me now.”

Annie gasped. “Who?”

“I … I don’t remember. I only remember seeing blood. Lots of blood. And I had a knife in my hand. That’s all I know.”

“Who was it? Where did it happen? Think, Adam. Try to remember.”

Adam breathed heavily for a few moments, then, “That’s all I know.” He paused again, then whispered, “I don’t know who it was and I’m afraid.”

Annie thought quickly. If Adam was being honest, then he was afraid of what he’d become, afraid of the unknown, and fearful of what might happen to him. But if he’d killed again, it would only continue and possibly become more frequent until he was caught. She had to gain his trust. She spoke calmly and quietly. “Adam, if you tell me where you are right now, I’ll come to you. I’ll come alone and we can talk some more.”

Adam seemed to be considering her suggestion, his breathing slightly calmer now. “I wanted to give myself up before, but the voices wouldn’t let me.” He took a deep breath. “They told me to kill myself, and when I tried, they made me stop. They won’t go away until I do exactly what they want.”

“Trust me, Adam,” she whispered.

“I … I can’t,” he said. “I only called to ask you to leave me alone. To try to make you understand I can’t give myself up. I have too much at stake.”

“Other lives are at stake as well,” Annie said, in a last desperate attempt.

There was silence, then Adam said, “I have to go now. I’m calling from a phone booth so don’t bother trying to trace the call.”

“Wait. Adam,” Annie pleaded, but it was too late. There was a distinct click over the line as the killer disconnected.

She hung up thoughtfully. She’d done her best, but it was apparent to her he was never going to surrender of his own free will. She would have to notify Hank, but unfortunately, Adam had given no indication as to where he could be found.

She hurried to her desk and browsed the printouts again. Everything Adam had said fit precisely with the listed information, and was exactly as Dr. Zalora had said.

Adam was reaching out, and she felt she had failed in what might’ve been her only chance to stop a killer and save additional lives.

Chapter 30

Wednesday, 6:14 p.m.

HANK SLUMPED in his chair and stared at his desk, piled high with folders, reports, and work still vying for his attention. He felt exhausted from the long hours of interviews. Detective King had returned to the precinct some time ago, and between the two of them, they had talked to just about everyone Adam Thorburn knew. Some of Adam’s classmates had moved from the city, and there were a few they couldn’t track down, but he would locate them as soon as possible.

As expected, no one had seen Adam recently, and most of the people they visited took it seriously when he warned them to be vigilant until Adam was found. Hank didn’t want to attend another murder scene he could’ve avoided by spending a little more time on the job. He knew from past experience, it paid to be thorough. Sometimes leads came from the least obvious sources.

Earlier, he arranged to have more patrols around the Thorburn residence. Officers also staked out the backyard and the front of the house, staying watchful around the clock. The officers at the rear were hidden well. They would spend the long hours sequestered in the garage, staring through a small window. Hank didn’t envy them their task.

When his cell phone rang, he looked at the caller ID. It was Annie. He answered it and she told him she had some important information to share, and if he would be at the precinct for a while, she and Jake would be right over.

He assured her he would be there and hung up the phone.

Detective King wandered over and plopped into a chair, a coffee in one hand, a muffin in the other. “Thought I might call it a day,” he said. “Unless you have something urgent.”

Hank looked closely at King. “You have something more important to do?”

King shrugged, finished his coffee, and set the empty cup on the desk. “Not really. Just want to go home and put my feet up. It’s been a long day.”

“For both of us,” Hank said.

King disregarded Hank’s comment, downed the last bite of muffin, and stood. He waved a hand and strode away, calling over his shoulder, “See you tomorrow.”

Hank frowned, dropped King’s cup into the wastebasket, blew the crumbs off the edge of his desk, and turned back to his paperwork.

He was sorting through the notes he had made during his afternoon visits when he heard a familiar voice call.

“Hey, Uncle Hank.”

He pushed back his chair and swung toward the voice. “Hey, Matty,” he said.

The boy moved closer and gave Hank a fist bump. “Catch any bad guys lately?”

“Working on it. There’s no shortage of them out there and I’m doing my best to get my share.”

Annie and Jake were close behind Matty and they settled into guest chairs. Matty wandered across the precinct floor, probably looking for a friendly cop he could pester with questions.

“So what’s the important information you have for me?” Hank asked, looking back and forth between Jake and Annie.