Page 50 of The First Hunt (The Final Hunt)

T anner folded a piece of gum into his mouth and lifted the small box with the AncestryDNA logo, debating whether or not he wanted to go through with it.

He opened the box and pulled out the slim tube for his saliva sample and prepaid mailer to send it back for analysis.

If he mailed it tomorrow, he could have a list of his biological relatives, maybe even his parents or a sibling, in six to eight weeks.

There had to be a reason for the closed adoption. He liked to imagine his mother got pregnant young, a teenager even. And while she’d wanted to keep him, she’d been forced by her circumstances to give him up. Or maybe that wasn’t the case at all. Maybe she’d wanted nothing to do with him.

The detective in him needed to know. But the part of him that had been rejected by his birth parents wasn’t sure that he wanted to. He left the opened box on the kitchen counter and went to change into running gear. He needed to clear his head. He’d make the decision when he got back from his run.

Moving through his sparsely furnished Seattle home, he passed a large window with a view of the Sound at the bottom of the hillside. Before he got to his room, his phone rang in his suit jacket pocket.

It was his homicide sergeant. He was next up for a homicide. He knew before taking the call there would be no run tonight. “Detective Mullholland.”

“Mulholland, it’s McKinnon. I just got a call from the chief dispatcher. There’s been a homicide in Queen Anne. A twenty-eight-year-old female was found dead in her home. It appears to be a strangulation. I’ll text you the address.”

“Thanks.” Tanner turned around. “I’m leaving now.”

He ended the call and grabbed the DNA testing kit off the counter, tossing it into the trash on his way out the door. He needed to focus on this new case, not the past.

Some things were better left alone.

***

“Good morning,” John’s receptionist greeted him from behind her desk outside his office.

He rested his briefcase on the corner of her desk. “Good morning, Bryn.”

“Your coffee and this morning’s paper are on your desk,” she added, flipping her long, dark hair behind her shoulder.

“Thank you.” John’s gaze fell to Bryn’s neck. He imagined his hands closing around it, then his late father’s words echoed in his mind. There’s a link to you. It had been over ten years since his dad had died of a heart attack, but John often reflected on all he’d taught him.

With age, John had grown to learn his father was right. He couldn’t kill people he knew—not if he wanted to continue killing and stay out of prison for the rest of his life.

Inside his office, he spun in his chair to gaze at the twenty-story view of the Seattle waterfront beyond the large window behind his desk.

His dad would’ve been proud of the life he’d built for himself.

He didn’t have to be a shrink to know that his reason for becoming a criminal defense attorney stemmed from his fear as a kid of his father going to prison.

As it turned out, John not only loved his job, but he was also damn good at it.

Since his father’s death, John often reflected on the sacrifices his dad had made to protect him, making sure they could continue living their life together—in freedom.

He even sacrificed his killing. John had no plans to have children.

Instead, he’d committed to carrying out his father’s legacy, killing in a way his father couldn’t.

He allowed himself to kill once a year. Every summer. He was surprised he’d felt the urge to strangle Bryn since he’d killed only two nights ago.

His thoughts turned to the paper lying on his desk. He couldn’t wait to see what it said.

He’d made the front page, just as he’d hoped. He pulled his chair into his desk and unfolded the paper.

SECOND SEATTLE TEACHER STRANGLED IN HOME IN TWELVE MONTHS

A wave of satisfaction rolled through him as he read through the article.

Detectives fear there could be a serial murderer, The Teacher Killer, at large in Seattle.

John read on, wishing his father could see him now. He’d be so proud. John sighed. He was the only person he could’ve shared this with.

A knock on his office door made John look up. The door swung open. Simon, his partner, poked his head through the doorway.

“We still on for our hunting trip this October?”

“I’m planning on it.”

“Great. I’ll book the lodge.” Simon gestured to the paper on John’s desk. “You read that article? Could be a serial killer. From the sounds of it, he’s a smart one too.” He cracked a grin. “If he gets caught, maybe we’ll get to defend him. Could be great for the firm.”

John sat back in the leather chair. He’d known Simon had a cunning, greedy side to him before they’d formed the law firm, which was exactly what John needed in a law partner. Simon was hungry for money, notoriety, and power—a weakness John could leverage if he ever needed to.

“Anyway,” Simon added. “You all set for our court hearing at nine?”

John checked his Rolex. “Yep, I’ll be ready.”

“Great.”

John waited for Simon to shut the door before returning his attention to the article.

He enjoyed it—until he got to the end. It stated that Detective Tanner Mulholland was the lead investigator.

John’s leg jiggled beneath the desk. That was a worry.

As a defense attorney, John had seen Mulholland in action both in the courtroom and out.

He was the most relentless, dedicated, and sharp investigator John had ever encountered.

There was something about Mulholland’s tenacity, and him always chewing gum, that reminded John of Holly Sparks. And he didn’t like it.

The article concluded with a speculation about the profile of the killer. Criminal profilers believe the Teacher Killer is likely a single, professional male, aged thirty to fifty. There is a strong probability he has killed before.

Surprisingly accurate, John thought. Although that’s not a lot to go on.

John reflected on his first kill, although it was so wild and unplanned that he usually thought of the young woman in Fairbanks as the one who started it all. But if he were honest with himself, she wasn’t.

When he’d gotten out of bed after hearing his parents arguing, he’d come into their bedroom and heard his mother shout from their balcony that she was leaving his dad and taking John with her.

His father told her there was no way he would let that happen and stormed inside.

John hid behind a door as his father left the room.

When John emerged from his hiding spot, his mom was outside, crying while leaning over the balcony.

He couldn’t let her take him away from his dad.

How could she do that? he’d wondered. He went outside to convince her to stay.

When she heard the balcony door open, she told him to stay the hell away from her.

Taken aback by the nastiness in her tone, he realized that she thought he was his father.

How could she speak to him like that? John’s belly burned like a firecracker about to pop.

It rushed up his chest, squeezing his throat, making his face hot.

His fists clenched as if he were a volcano ready to explode.

What happened next was unplanned, and a blur in his memory.

He’d rushed toward his mother and lifted her legs in a moment of fury.

When he’d let go, she’d toppled over the side.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d stood frozen, staring at her crumpled body on the concrete, but then his dad appeared at his side.

If he’d been horrified—or angry—his father hadn’t shown it.

Instead, he’d placed a hand on John’s back.

Go back to bed, son. I’ll handle this.

John forced the memory from his mind and turned the page of the Tribune. Still, he found himself unable to concentrate on the rest of the news knowing that Mulholland would be spending every waking moment trying to hunt him down. Again, his father’s words popped into his mind.

Cops will be less apt to suspect you if you have a wife. A family man.

John skimmed the articles, including one about the Green River Killer, Gary Ridgway, who was being returned to Washington state prison from Colorado, and turned the page. A headline at the top caught his eye.

STARTING FRESH: Sequim dentist opens new Seattle practice after husband’s suicide.

Beneath it was a headshot of a smiling, beautiful blond woman wearing a white lab coat.

Intrigued, John took a drink from his coffee and began to read.

***

Cameron’s office manager, Daniela, leaned her head inside Cameron’s partially open office door.

“Molly wanted me to let you know that her patient in Room 3 is ready for his exam.” Daniela stepped inside Cameron’s office, lowering her voice.

“He’s that hot lawyer I was telling you about.

I checked his paperwork, and it says he’s single. ”

Cameron gaped at her. “Daniela!”

Daniela had started working for her two months ago when she’d started her practice, and the two of them had become fast friends. But normally Daniela was more professional.

She smiled. “I’m just saying. He’s single, you’re single.”

“Not interested.” She’d given up on love. After Miles, all she wanted was to be safe. Having to cover up the murder of one husband was enough for a lifetime. “Plus, it’s against the American Dental Association code of ethics to date your patients.”

“So we’ll find him another dentist.”

Cameron shot Daniela a look. “I’m serious.” She stood from her desk and slipped on her lab coat. “Not to mention I’m perfectly happy being single.”

Daniela shrugged. “Okay, but you might change your mind after you see him. Unless you’re not into that tall, dark, and so-handsome-you-can’t-even-think-straight type.” She flashed Cameron a wink before disappearing into the hall.

“So unprofessional,” Cameron muttered before she stepped out of her office. She walked down the hallway, allowing her mind to wonder what it would be like to have love and be safe. To be truly happy with someone.

Cameron’s heart fluttered when she spotted the lawyer’s profile as he reclined in the dental chair in Room 3. Daniela had understated his looks.

Get a hold of yourself.

She took a deep breath as she entered the room and extended her hand. “Good morning. I’m Dr. Henson.”

He sat up, meeting her gaze with his earth-tone brown eyes and a row of perfect teeth that you didn’t even have to be a dentist to appreciate. He pressed his smooth, strong hand against hers.

“Hi,” he said, his voice warm, his smile easy. “I’m John.”