Page 63 of In Her Wake
“He’s been watching her, studying her schedule.” Jenna said, quickening her pace toward her cruiser.“He might be planning to strike at this very moment.”
They reached their vehicles, the urgency of the situation evident in their movements.Spelling unlocked his SUV with a beep that seemed too mundane for the gravity of the moment.
“I’ll take my vehicle,” he said.“We’ll establish a perimeter and assess before making contact.”
Jenna nodded, already sliding into the driver’s seat of her cruiser.Jake took his place beside her, radioing dispatch to coordinate the backup units’ approach.
The engine roared to life, and Jenna pulled away from the curb, her hands tight on the steering wheel.In her mind, she could see the mannequins they’d found—Marjory Powell at her kitchen table, Kevin Torres on his weight bench, Dean Alcox at his typewriter.Each in a moment of success, preserved by a twisted mind that saw death as a kindness.
She pressed harder on the accelerator, the street signs blurring as they passed.Somewhere in Trentville, Sarah Fleming was going about her day, unaware that a man with a needle full of muscle relaxant and a philosophical justification for murder was probably watching her right now, waiting for the perfect moment to deliver his twisted gift of eternal preservation.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Wildflower Court looked like a postcard vision of suburban tranquility—neat lawns, decorative mailboxes, and houses that seemed to have sprung from the same architectural template.As Jenna guided the cruiser down the street, she spotted Spelling’s black SUV already pulled to the curb, the colonel himself standing beside it, one hand resting on his holster as he surveyed 1437, Sarah Fleming’s home a short distance away.The house was in clear view from where they were.
Jenna pulled the cruiser behind Spelling’s vehicle and cut the engine.She and Jake were out of the car in seconds.
“Just arrived,” the colonel told her, pointing.“Garage door was already open when I got here.There’s a car inside.”
Just then, a sound cut through the suburban quiet—an engine roaring to life, tires squealing against pavement.Jenna’s head snapped toward the source: the narrow alley running behind the row of houses.
“There!”Jake shouted.
A white panel van burst from behind Sarah’s garage, accelerating down the alley.Jenna caught the briefest glimpse of the driver’s face—wild-eyed, panicked—before the vehicle disappeared from view.
“Greenwich,” she breathed.
“I’ll call it in,” Jake called as the three of them ran back to their own vehicles.He slid into the passenger seat as Jenna jammed her key into the cruiser’s ignition.The engine roared to life beneath her hands.She threw the car into reverse, tires protesting as she executed a tight turn.Spelling’s SUV followed, its grill almost kissing her bumper.
Jake had the radio in his hand."This is Deputy Hawkins.Suspect Daniel Greenwich is fleeing the scene at 1437 Wildflower Court in a white panel van, heading east.Requesting immediate backup from vehicles already near the scene, and roadblocks at the following intersections..."
“If he’s smart, he’ll head for the highway,” Jenna said, taking a sharp right onto a parallel route that might intercept him.“But he seemed panicked, not calculating.I think he’s running blind.”
“Which makes him more dangerous,” Jake replied, bracing himself against the dashboard as Jenna swerved to avoid a parked car.“Dispatch says units are converging from the north and west.They’re setting up barriers on the main roads out of town.”
They spotted the white van two blocks ahead, careening around a corner, its tires squealing.
“He’s heading for Oakridge Drive,” she said.“That leads straight to the interstate.Jake, tell dispatch to prioritize the on-ramp at Exit 17.”
Jake relayed the information while Jenna floored the accelerator, the cruiser’s engine growling as it closed the distance between them and the fleeing van.Through the rear windows, she could make out movement inside the van.
“There’s someone else in the van,” she said.“He has Sarah.”
Spelling’s SUV appeared in her side mirror.He pulled into the adjacent lane, giving her a tight nod through the window.The coordinated pursuit was now a pincer, squeezing Greenwich between them as they approached a busier commercial district.
“We can’t let him reach the highway,” Jenna said.“Too many variables, too many innocent people who could get hurt if this turns into a high-speed chase on the interstate.”
The van swerved suddenly, cutting across three lanes of traffic and sending a delivery truck skidding sideways.Horns blared, drivers shouted, but Greenwich plowed ahead, desperation making him reckless.Jenna followed, weaving through the disrupted traffic, never letting the van escape her sight.
“He’s heading for the old industrial park,” Jake realized aloud.“Those access roads are a maze.”
***
Daniel’s hands trembled against the steering wheel.This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.This was supposed to be clean, merciful—a gift.Now those police cruisers were transforming his sacred work into something criminal, vulgar.Sarah Fleming deserved better than this chaotic, undignified end.He had wanted to preserve her, to spare her the inevitable decline.
He had planned it well, positioning himself in the alley behind Sarah’s house.When she finally stepped outside, heading toward the garage where her car waited, the syringe was already in his hand, uncapped and ready.Her back was to him as she fumbled with her keys, and he closed the distance between them in four silent steps.
“Excuse me, Miss Fleming?”he’d said, his voice carefully modulated to sound like that of an eager fan.Before she could react, he’d plunged the needle into her neck, his other hand covering her mouth.
