Alex Kava Bundle - Alex Kava [533]
Tully accessed Joan Begley’s AOL account, using the password and going through her file cabinet. He read the e-mails that hadn’t been opened yet, but saved each, clicking on “Keep as new” just in case someone else was checking them, too.
Harvey jumped up from under the table, startling Tully. He had forgotten the dog was there. Within seconds he heard the front door unlock. This dog was good.
“Hi, Dad,” Emma said, coming in the front door, her friend, Aleesha, her constant companion, following.
“You’re home early,” he said, trying not to sound as pleased as he was feeling. These days he barely saw her and that was only in passing.
“We thought we’d study here tonight. Is that okay with you?”
She had already thrown her armful of books on the sofa and squatted down to hug Harvey’s thick neck. She laughed at her friend, who had to move or risk getting swatted by the dog’s tail.
“You can pet him,” she told Aleesha, who seemed to be waiting for permission. “Could we order a pizza later for dinner?”
She let Harvey lick her hand while she looked up at Tully. He thought he saw something in his daughter’s eyes—a sparkle, a glint—something that he hadn’t seen in a very long time. And that was pure and unadulterated happiness.
“Sure, sweet pea. But only if I get to have some.”
“Well, duh, of course you get some. Especially since you’re paying for it.” She rolled her eyes but was still smiling.
If only he had known that all it took to make his daughter’s eyes sparkle was the simple lick and wag of a dog. Who’d ever have guessed? Teenaged girls—he’d never be able to figure them out.
Sometimes it didn’t surprise him so much that Emma was almost sixteen as much as it surprised him that he was supposed to be the father of a sixteen-year-old. What did he know about teenaged girls? He had no experience in this category. The father of a little girl, now, that he could handle. He was good at protecting, providing and admiring, but those all seemed qualities his teenaged daughter considered lame.
“Come on, Harvey.” Emma called the dog from the hallway. “Watch him, Aleesha,” he heard Emma tell her friend as they went back to her bedroom. “This is so cool. He lies at the foot of my bed like he’s watching out for me. And those big, sad brown eyes. Aren’t they the best?”
Tully smiled. Evidently protecting and admiring were annoying characteristics in a father, but prime qualities for a dog. Was he being replaced in his daughter’s life? Better by a dog than by a boy.
He went back to Joan Begley’s e-mail. O’Dell had said that the rock quarry killer may be paranoid and delusional. She suggested that he hid the bodies because he didn’t want anyone to see his handiwork, unlike some serial killers who put the bodies on display to show their control, their power. So this killer, according to O’Dell, got what he wanted from something other than torturing and killing his victims. There may be no gratification in the actual kills for him. If she was correct, the killing was only a means to the end result, what O’Dell called his trophies. But if this was the same man who had taken Joan Begley, what did he want from her?
Tully scanned the contents of one of SonnyBoy’s e-mails to Joan Begley. He sounded genuinely interested and concerned about her. Yes, it might be necessary to lure the victim, get her to trust. But this seemed more than that.
The e-mail read, “You need to let yourself mourn. Let yourself be sad. It’s okay, you know. You don’t have to be embarrassed. No one will think of you as being weak.”
Did SonnyBoy connect with his victims in some way, actually feel for them? Or perhaps feel sorry for them because of their imperfections? Was it part of his game? Or was Joan Begley different?
Tully wondered if O’Dell was right. If on some level, the killer hid the bodies because he was