Page 49 of In the Dead of Night

“It’s okay. I was skeptical, but that old man recognized those photos.” The muscles in his jaws went taut. “I think that son of bitch killed them.”

“Me, too.”

Shaking his head, Nick set his glass on the counter and walked to the living room. Sara watched from the bar as he went to the hearth for wood and kindling and built a fire.

She joined him a few minutes later and sat down beside him. “All these years and it still hurts.”

“It was bad enough losing them the way we did. But for the killer to frame your father…For him to portray your mother and my father as adulterers…” As if at a loss, he let the words trail.

“The person responsible destroyed our families,” Sara said.

Nick stared into the flames. “Because they were going to expose him for what he was.”

“The maker of snuff films.”

“It’s a logical assumption.”

“What do we do now? It seems like we’ve reached a dead end.”

His gaze met hers. Hard-edged determination churned within their depths, and Sara knew now that he believed her he wouldn’t give up until Stocker was behind bars. “We have one more source of information we haven’t tapped into.”

Her mind spun through the players. Blaine Stocker. Channing Stocker. Nick’s mother, Laurel. Her own fractured memory. “Who?”

“The lead detective who investigated the case.”

“Of course.” Excitement jumped through her at the thought. “Henry James.”

“He retired ten years ago. You remember him?”

“He was kind to me. I always liked him. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I think he always believed I saw the killer that night.”

“What makes you think that?”

“He questioned me quite a bit about it. He was the one who recommended hypnosis.” Remembering the countless sessions with several psychologists and therapists, she shook her head. “Nothing ever panned out. I could see the man, but I couldn’t recall his face, and I could never identify him.”

“Pretty horrific scene for a seven-year-old kid.”

Even now the memory of that night made her shudder. “It was bad, Nick. Ugly. To see your parents like that. The blood. Knowing they were gone forever. It’s like your worst nightmare becoming reality.”

For a moment she thought he would put his arm around her or perhaps set his hand over hers. But he continued to stare into the fire. She wasn’t sure if she was glad for it…or disappointed.

“Let me see if I can find a current number or address for Detective James.” Rising, he walked to the bar and opened his laptop.

Sara remained at the hearth and sipped her wine, but it had gone sour on her tongue. Had they reached a dead end? Or would the retired detective be able to help them?

At the bar, Nick tapped keys. The computer beeped and he sighed. “He retired a few months after the case closed and moved to Phoenix. I’ve got a phone number.”

She glanced at her watch. “It’s not yet nine o’clock…”

“Let’s call him and see what he has to say.” Nick picked up the cordless phone and punched in numbers. Sara held her breath, hoping the detective would be able to help them put the final pieces of the puzzle together.

“Henry James, please.”

Nick’s voice drew her from her dark thoughts. She watched his face. “How did it happen?” he asked.

Sara saw his jaw tighten, his brows knit. “I’m sorry to have bothered you, ma’am.” He hung up the phone and shook his head.

She could tell by the look in his eyes that the news was not good. “What?”