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Stolen(97)



Laura nodded, and then she smiled. “That’s right. I remember. I remember everything.”





Chapter 49





Wednesday, October 30

3:30 P.M.

Task force headquarters

Highlands Hotel

Denver, Colorado



A lone, pea-colored linoleum table and three folding chairs were all that remained in what had once been a decked-out war room. Caitlin, Spense, and Hatcher had gathered here for one last confab, and Hatcher had stacked the contents of the fridge—five ham sandwiches, two beef jerkies, and three energy drinks in the center of the table.

“Anyone want to help me finish these babies off? I hate to see good food go to waste.” Good food was a generous assessment.

“It’s all yours, buddy.” Spense stretched his legs, and folded his hands behind his head.

“What about you, Caitlin?”

“I’m good. You enjoy, Jordan.” She smiled at the detective, grateful he hadn’t pressed anyone harder for details about the struggle that led to Chaucer’s demise. There would be more questions for Laura once she was released from the hospital, but Hatcher had made it clear the higher-ups had no interest in prosecuting the young woman.

“How’s Laura doing?” Hatcher asked.

Caitlin and Spense had come here directly from the hospital.

“Well,” Caitlin said. After being treated upon arrival with activated charcoal and gastric lavage, Laura was looking good. She’d taken a hit from the overdose, but her liver enzymes were only mildly elevated and on a downward trend. “Doctors anticipate forty-eight hours of monitoring and then release. The other good news is her mother, Tracy, is flying Dr. Duncan in from DC. He’ll be here to help Laura deal with her trauma, and he’ll be present when she meets her biological mother, Lisa Blake, for the first time.”

Hatcher drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “Lisa Blake. I wish we’d tracked her down thirteen years ago.”

“Don’t beat yourself up,” Spense said. “It may seem obvious now that Lisa was the primary object of Chaucer’s obsession, and the other women surrogates for his rage after she dumped him, but at the time, I don’t think anyone could’ve put it together. The adoption was closed. Only the parties involved and the lawyers knew about it. There simply weren’t enough pieces to complete the puzzle.”

“You both agree that Angelina was probably Chaucer’s first.”

Caitlin folded her hands. “Probably his first kill, but obviously not his first rape. I think you’ll find many more women are going to come forward with complaints about waking up confused after an evening with Whitmore Chaucer.”

“So what was different with Angelina? What made him snap and go from being a serial rapist to a serial murderer? Not that I buy all this psychobabble crap, but if you had to guess.”

“Let’s call it more than a guess,” Spense said. “Let’s call it speculation supported by evidence. After all, we now have Laura’s eyewitness account of Angelina’s murder.”

“Laura recalls hearing Angelina scream, and when she ran into the room, Chaucer had his hands around Angelina’s throat. That’s the evidence piece,” Caitlin said. “The speculative piece is this—Angelina didn’t ingest enough of the GHB and woke up during the rape. She screamed, and Chaucer had to silence her—thus the strangulation. Later, when he dumped her body in the wilderness, he stabbed her in a fury. The subsequent rush of endorphins and release of his rage gave him a high he’d never experienced before. His compulsion for self-gratification could no longer be satisfied from a sexual release alone. Thus the transformation from rapist to murderer.”

“So he risked everything, his family, his career, and his life to get some kind of high? Stupid bastard. The guy had everything, and it wasn’t enough.” Hatcher let out a breath. “Speaking of stupid bastards, that brings me to Grady Webber. It seems that although he did follow Caitlin outside of Coffee and Conversation, and though he did grab her and punch her, it was Chaucer who most likely dosed her tea with GHB—unbeknownst to Webber. A waitress identified the senator as having been in the coffee shop at around the same time. He was wearing a red toupee, but she still recognized him. If Webber hadn’t stalked Caitlin outside, Chaucer may have . . . anyway, we wanna work with Webber. We’re hoping Caitlin won’t mind dropping the assault charges in exchange for his full cooperation in an ongoing investigation.”

“No way.” Spense slammed his fist on the table.

“He may not have known about Chaucer’s murderous habits, but he’s been with the man for most of his travels. He could be a tremendous help when it comes to the other murders.”