Table of Contents
Fatal Game
I didnt have any facts about the case, or how the killer operated, but then again, it wasnt my job to solve the case. I was there for moral support, along with a prod every now and then if I thought my husbands investigation was going off-course. No one knew about my input but Zach, and for my protection, he didnt tell anyone that I was his unpaid and extremely unofficial consultant.
And I liked that just fine myself. I had no desire for the limelight or any credit for solving one of my husbands cases any more than I wanted his name on one of my puzzles, even if he did spot mistakes from time to time. Most of them went straight to my publisher, but every now and then I had Zach solve one to make sure I was playing fair. We were a team, both in our professions and in our marriage, and I wouldnt have it any other way.
And now we were going to try to find a killer before he had the chance to strike again.
For my inspirations,
Patty and Emily;
and Michelle Vega,
for all of her hard
work on this project!
AUTHORS NOTE
Charlotte, North Carolinathe Queen Cityis obviously a real locale, and in many respects, the city is a key character in this book. Some of the places mentioned here exist, including Luigisthe best pizza in the city, in the authors humble opinion. Several of the places mentioned are actual neighborhoods and businesses, and at the time of this writing, were all thriving in real life. Other informationsuch as the location of police headquarters and its distance from the mayors officehas been fictionalized in order to aid in telling a good story. Trust me when I say that the architecture in Charlotte is beautiful, and the people as a rule are genuine, but there are killers in many locales, big cities and small towns alike, and Charlotte is no exception.
Its important to remember that when all things are considered, Charlotte is a city with many sides and facets, worthy of exploration.
Puzzles are like songsA good puzzle can give you all the pleasure of being duped that a mystery story can. It has surface innocence, surprise, the revelation of a concealed meaning, and the catharsis of solution.
STEPHEN SONDHEIM
Prologue
THE MURDERER STARED AT THE MAP, CAREFULLY CALCUlating the next strike. The complication of the scheme was delightful, adding another layer to the fabric of the plan. Crime was too easy when it was random. There was grace and beautydare the killer be bold enough to admit elegance?to the transgressions committed, and if the world was too blind to see the pattern of the actions, it would all be revealed in the end.
No one could stop the plan once it was in place, certainly not the police.
No one would even realize what was happeningthe completion of the grand schemeuntil it was too late.
By then, the ultimate prize would be achieved.
The life of the last target would rest in a single outstretched hand, and then it would be squeezed until there was nothing left.
Chapter 1
ARE YOU STILL FIDDLING WITH THAT PUZZLE, SAVANNAH? I need some help in the bedroom with that blasted shelf Im putting up. Youre the one who wanted it in the first place, remember?
Hang on a second. Ive almost got it. My dear husband loomed over me as I worked on the couch with paper and pencil, toiling over my latest creation. My names Savannah Stone, and its my job to create a variety of the math and logic puzzles you find in your newspaper every morning, just as long as you subscribe to one of the forty-two papers my syndicate sells my puzzles to every day. While I might not be in The New York Times, I am in the New Bern Register, along with the Covington Chronicle and the Grandfather Mountain Gazette. I taught high school math in Charlotte until puzzles came into my life, and though the money I make now is somewhat less than I made before, the freedom my current career provides is well worth the cut in pay.
I wasnt sweating literally like my husband was, but the math on this new puzzle was taxing me just the same. Working a puzzle and creating it were two very different things.
I looked up and saw beads of sweat traipsing down Zachs nose and threatening to despoil the puzzle Id been toiling so hard over for the past two hours. As I pulled my work safely out of the way, I noticed that the silver touches of frost around his temples were matted with sweat as well. Why was it that my husbands graying hair looked so distinguished? On me, it looked like I was nearing my expiration datethough I wasnt even up to my fortieth birthday, while he was two years past his.
He looked at me, the exasperation clear on his face. Seriously? You cant put that down for one minute to help me? It wont take that long, Savannah, I promise.
Zach, Ive almost got it. That shelf is going to have to wait until Im finished. Youre supposed to be retired anyway, remember? So why dont you be a dear and go retire somewhere else until I wrap this up?
My husband had been the police chief in Charlotte, North Carolina, when a bullet had hit him in the chest and ended his career. The irony had been that hed been stopping a robbery when he was off duty and heading home to me. My husband was a hero, no matter how much he downplayed what had happened. Zach had managed to save three people with his intervention. Just thinking about that night sent me into shivers. It still felt like yesterday when Id gotten the call, the one every police officers wife dreads. As Id raced to the hospital, I frantically worried if Id be a widow by the time I got there. Fortunately the gunshot wound hadnt been nearly as bad as it might have been, but I didnt think I could ever go through that again. At least no one would be shooting at him anymore. Or so I hoped.
Unfortunately, the wound had left him technically disabled with an injury too close to his heart, though youd never know it by the way he acted. Zach had taken early retirementthough not willinglybut hed soon been bored with his idle lifestyle. Instead of puttering around the garden on our mini-farm on the outskirts of Parsons Valley in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains or tinkering in his woodworking shop, Zach began working as a consultant to various police forces in North Carolina, and occasionally even the rest of the country. He was good at what he did, and the freedom of my job allowed me to travel with him whenever he was on a case.
You know how hard it is for me to slow down and take it easy, he said as he mopped his brow with a colorful bandana he always kept in his back pocket, even when he was wearing his nicest navy blue suit. I get bored if I sit still too long. Why isnt anything happening? Surely theres some case somewhere that needs me. Almost as an afterthought, he glanced down and pointed at my formula.
My eraser struck and removed one of the offending digits. Thats why I said I wasnt finished yet. Honestly, you need something else to keep you busy. Isnt there anything besides police work that interests you? I thought you loved it here near the mountains as much as I do.
This place is nice. He gestured around our cottage, tucked away in the western North Carolina Mountains. We had four acres, half of it wooded, and enough open land left to have a magnificent lawn and garden. It had always been our dream to own something like it some day, and I enjoyed it even more than I ever could have imagined. It would have been fine with me if we never left our serene enclave again, but my husband was a different story altogether.
