Watch For The Dawn

By Sandra McGregor

A serial killer is targeting college co-eds and today he is watching a student as she makes her way across the campus to class. When a blond woman stops and talks with the girl, he changes his pattern, allows the student to go...for the moment...and follows the woman. After watching which room the woman enters, he adds Professor Kelly Cooper to his list. She should never have interfered in his plan.

Watch For The Dawn introduces Kelly Cooper, 29, single and a professor at Colorado State University in Denver. Kelly's trouble begins when her older sister, Madison Cooper, comes on campus to have lunch with her and stops to speak to a student she recently tended in the hospital emergency room. It's a case of mistaken identity, but since he doesn't know what the girl might have revealed to the woman, there is now another potential “loose end” to be dispose of.

Police detective Steve Mitchell is leading the search for the serial killer, but after losing his temper with a journalist and shoving the man, his chief puts him on two-week administrative leave to cool off. A mountain cabin in the winter is a perfect place to get away from his work and just relax...or is it?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sandra McGregor
• Release date: Oct 2, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311607850

Book preview

Watch For The Dawn

By Sandra McGregor

Copyright 2014 Sandra McGregor

Smashwords Edition

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Prologue

He watched from the balcony. Hunched in a wool coat, he braced against the ice-tipped gale that roared down from the surrounding snow-covered mountains like a bully after its next victim. No one was spared the bone-chilling blast that kicked leaves and paper around in circles, plastered coats to their owners like a second skin, and sent hair darting about in a frenzy as if directed by the mad-hatter.

Below, students ducked their heads against the wind and rushed toward the buildings. No doubt the desire for warmth propelled them forward as much as the gale at their backs.

The tiny brunette zigzagged a path through the slower students. The Army-Navy surplus coat kept out most of the cold, but she wrapped both arms around books she clutched to her chest like a mother protecting her child. With her mind obviously on her destination, her steps faltered when the tower clock bonged the quarter hour. Without stopping, she stole a quick glance over her shoulder.

That's when he noticed the older woman waving her arm, her mouth moving as if calling out as she hurried in the girl's direction. He leaned forward, straining to take in and catalog every detail.

A quick scan of his observation point, littered with empty metal tables and chairs on this blustery day, reassured he was still alone. He turned his attention back to the quad area below. The two women walked a short distance together before they stopped to talk. The older woman's blond hair was held back by a bright red ribbon that matched the long red coat. Tailored, classy. No books. An instructor? Too far away to hear the conversation, he had to be satisfied with raising his camera and clicking the shutter several times.

Their conversation was brief, but the younger woman wiped under her eyes with a gloved hand before backing away, turning, and then heading toward a gray stone building. Students passed on both sides while the older woman hesitated, watching the student quickly jog up the seven steps and disappear through the double doors. When the girl was no longer in sight, she ducked her chin inside the collar of her coat and hurried toward the building further down the sidewalk. He didn't care who the older woman was unless she got in his way. If so, there would have to be another little accident.

Chapter One

Hey, Kelly Cooper, aren't you ready to go yet?

Yeah. Be right with you, Sis. I just have to lock this drawer. In her hurry, Kelly slammed the drawer into the dented gray metal cabinet only to have it bounce open again.

Patience was not a word in her dictionary. Instead, it was a quality reserved exclusively for when she drove. After fourteen years, she was proud of her clean driving record. Besides, she muttered as she purposely closed the drawer and turned the key, it wouldn't look good for the youngest college professor at the college to get a ticket. It would probably be splashed on the front page of the Denver Post.

What are you grumbling about?

Nothing, let's go.

Soon they were out of the classroom and heading down the hall toward the front door. Neither paid much attention to the stares or even the few sighs from the hormone-rich males.

Think we'll have snow tonight? They both turned up their collars and pulled on their gloves.

I don't know, but I would imagine so. It's freezing and it's only mid-day.

At the door they almost collided with a student bursting in from the cold. Whoops! The girl's head snapped up. Oh, sorry, Ms. Cooper. Her eyes darted between the two sisters. I didn't know you had a twin.

Both sisters chuckled, but Kelly answered. We're not. Madison is older by three years. She hitched her thumb toward her sister.

Sorry, mumbled the girl, glancing up at the older sister before ducking her chin and scurrying down the hall.

Yep, Madison said, turning to look at her sister. I might be a little older, but my job is more interesting. When her sister only raised her eyebrows and smirked, she continued. You live to impart knowledge to your hundreds of kids who probably hate English Literature, but need the grade. Oh, and I almost forgot you're looking for that guy who's willing to put up with all the work you take home.

They shoved the door, fighting the gusts of wind as they braved the cold and turned toward the parking lot.

Well, sister dearest, at least I don't get calls in the middle of the night to come back to work.

At least most of my patients appreciate their doctor for saving their life or taking away the pain, she countered, keeping up the friendly sparring they enjoyed.

You might have a point there. At least we can agree that our plates are too full for a permanent guy in our lives, Kelly told her as she sidestepped a running student.

Unless he's the most perfect specimen to ever walk the earth, Madison clarified.

Kelly hurried along beside her sister, humming It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas. You know, I just love this season. I love the music, the shopping, dinner at the parent's. Christmas is my favorite holiday.

Mine too, but I wish it came in June. A shiver ran down her back. Speaking of that, have you changed your mind about spending Christmas with the family? I still have room in my car for you, Madison tried for the fifth time. She wasn't thrilled with her sister's new boyfriend and hated to see Kelly miss out on the family time because of The Creep.

No, not this year. Jeff already had reservations for skiing before I started going out with him and he really wants me to go with him. I think it's important to show him how important he is to me.

Great, another male ego that needs to be propped up. Madison's lips twitched as she considered how to respond. It didn't surprise her when Kelly frowned and her jaws clenched. Her sister was preparing for an expected argument, but she was going to be surprised.

Madison, like all three Cooper girls, had excelled in school. By right of birth, she had been the leader, the second mother and the boss when she could get away with it. Even now the other sisters teased her about never asking their opinions, just telling them what they needed to do or think. But she had always thought her youngest sister would fall for a leader, someone stronger than herself. Her attachment to a weak male came as a shock... and an irritation.

Mom and Dad will be disappointed, but remember the offer is still open if you change your mind, she conceded.

Kelly turned her head, reaching up to drag wisps of hair from her mouth before she spoke. That's it? No argument?

It's not worth a fight to try to change your mind, Sis. I'm not in the mood for bad feelings. It's Christmas, the season for joy and love, she said, tucking her arm through her sister's as they trudged along.

The car was cold when they finally slid into the leather bucket seats and slammed the doors against the wind that cut through their clothes like a sharp knife.

I bet we have a white Christmas, Madison mused as she sat at the entrance to the parking lot and waited for traffic to thin so she could slip out into the lane.

That's what they predict.

So, where do you want to have lunch?

How about Wesley's?

Sounds good. Hot clam chowder and fresh warm bread.

My stomach is already growling. Drive faster, would you?

Madison always drove with a purpose, hating to waste the time it took to get from one place to another. By-the-way, I ran into a student on my way to your room. I saw her in Emergency a couple nights ago, Madison divulged as she switched lanes without using her turn indicator, just managing to slip into the left lane without hitting anyone.

Oh, really?

Yeah, she had been beaten by a boyfriend.

Kelly cringed. What's her name?

She said it was Nancy Owens, but I have a gut feeling she lied. She was scared, didn't want to be found there and definitely didn't want to talk with the police. She slipped in at about two o'clock Saturday morning when things are their busiest, and then ducked out soon after getting a pain killer.

I don't have a student by that name in any of my classes.

As Madison drove, she told her sister the story.

****

Excuse me.

The girl's words were barely audible as she spoke through swollen lips, but they were loud enough to draw the attention of the blond woman writing in the chart.

A pleasant smile jerked into a scowl as trained eyes focused on the trembling girl standing before her now, her coat clutched around her and her long auburn hair falling forward to partially hide the bruised and swollen face. Madison prided herself on being a professional and only a professional could remain calm on the outside while her blood boiled and her insides roared into full attack mode.

Here, let me help you get this coat off and lie down, she offered while guiding the frightened and injured girl into an examining room.

Let me take a look at you, okay?

Tears rolled down the girl's cheek from the one eye that wasn't swollen shut. She obeyed. The fist-sized bruise covering most of her right cheek was already a mottled red and purple. The left side was more spotted, as if strong fingers had grabbed her face. Whoever did this had a mean streak a mile wide.

I'm Dr. Cooper. Madison. I want you to lie here and try to relax. I'm going to have a nurse come in and clean your face up a little and get some x-rays of your cheek and jaw. Do you hurt anywhere else? Even as she asked the question, Madison was doing a thorough head to toe evaluation. There was blood caked in her hair at her right temple, but otherwise it appeared to be just the bruises. The hand used to point to her stomach and ribs was pale, displaying a purple bruise circling the wrist when her long sleeve rode up on her arm.

When the sweater was lifted, it was apparent why she was in so much pain. Large patches of blue were already spreading across her ribs on the right side. X-rays would tell if there were any bones cracked or possible internal injuries.

By morning when the shock wore off, she would be in a lot more pain. She'd be lucky if none of the ribs were broken. Madison could only help the girl with the physical trauma. The mental damage would require some sessions with a psychologist.

The exam showed numerous bruises on her head, torso, and extremities, along with small patches of hair pulled from her scalp. All in all, the girl was a mess.

Just try to relax now. I'll send a nurse in with something for the pain and we'll get those x-rays, then we'll talk. Okay? Madison watched more tears seep from the corner of the girl's eye to flow down the side of her face and drip onto the sheet as the girl nodded.

At the nurse's station, Madison asked Gwen to handle the case. That frightened young woman needs some tender grandmotherly care and you're just the one to dispense it, she said, handing over the chart.

Right away, doctor.

If she could just get her hands around the neck of the bastard that had beaten up that girl, she'd take great pleasure in giving him some of his own medicine. While she was still furious, she reached across the desk and grabbed the phone to call the police.

Within minutes Madison had a female officer on the way. At least it didn't appear she had been raped, but she had taken a vaginal fluid sample just in case it was needed later. This was one of those cases that ruined a night.

She knew she'd not get the battered woman out of her mind any time soon. Every time there had been a noise or a nurse walked through the door of the examining room, the girl flinched. Why would a human being hurt another person like that? Sick. The guy was definitely sick.

When Gwen stepped inside the sterile white room, the frightened girl lay alone on the stiff, narrow bed, crying. Her right hand was wrapped around the metal side rail like an exhausted swimmer onto a rescuer. White knuckles told of desperation, the one roving eye screamed her fear, and the tears, her pain and hopelessness.

Gwen spoke softly as she worked, murmuring about things being better tomorrow and the shot taking effect soon, but the girl didn't appear to be listening. She was probably a prisoner in her own world where beauty had suddenly turned ugly...a lover had turned mean.

I didn't do anything, she whispered.

Gwen fought her own tears. She'd seen it too many times before and she knew the girl would carry the emotional scars for a lifetime.

I thought he was going to kill me, she whispered.

The girl's eyes were glassed over in pain. She was fortunate tonight. She had every reason to be afraid for her life. Abusers rarely changed. If anything, their behavior escalated.

Would it help to talk with me about it? The girl was now scrunched into a fetal position, as tears continued in a slow, steady flow.

I...I don't know what got in to Tony. Her whispered words were soft as a summer morning mist. We made love this morning...even made plans for the weekend, she added, mumbling past the swollen lips.

What happened tonight? Gwen reached out to gently squeeze the girl's hand. She had a daughter...and hoped to have a granddaughter some day. If anyone treated either of them like this... Her gut rolled, bile burning the back of her throat. This young girl was someone's daughter.

He...he'd been drinking. Her eye opened a bit wider as she stared at the nurse. He's so sweet when he's not drinking.

Gwen nodded. She'd seen and heard this story a thousand times.

He ranted and raved like he was crazy, yelling that I'm...I'm... A renewed flow of tears dribbled down the side of her face to soak into the pillowcase. ...a two-timing bitch. He thought...but I'm not, she mumbled, the drug finally beginning to take effect.

Gwen shook her head and stepped away from the relaxed girl. With the painkiller doing its job, the tears now were probably for a broken heart and shattered dreams. She slipped out to let the girl rest until the police arrived.

Miss, there's someone here to speak with you, Gwen softy touched her shoulder. The girl flinched and her eye popped open. She trembled violently as she drew back into the rumbled and stained bed. "Shhh, take it easy. It's okay.

Hi, I'm Brenda McMillan from the police department. Do you feel up to a few questions? The gentle voice and friendly smile of the policewoman sent relief rippling through the wafer-thin body. He hasn't found me, she whispered through swollen lips.

Let me guess...he'd be furious if he knew you'd come to anyone for help, right?

God, if he finds out I've spoken to the police.... the fearful thought sent a new wave of fear racing through the tortured body as her teeth chattered and her body shook.

Please don't be nervous. I'm here to help you. Just in case you're cold, let me get you a heated blanket, I just happen to know where they keep them, she said with a pleasant smile.

You're a policeman?

The soft chuckle was brief, but seemed to bring a measure of calm to the tormented girl. She took a blanket from the warmer in the wall and spread it out over the girl. I'm older than I look...but probably not that many years older than yourself, if my guess is right. The girl still looked wary. I was once told that I was pretty...for a policeman. Again she chuckled, but it softened to a gentle smile as she pulled out a pad and stubby pencil.

I'm here to help you, but I need your cooperation. Her ponytail brushed the side of her neck when she leaned over to pull a high-legged stool closer. Most people see me only as a woman trying to fit into a man's world, but we're the best ones to help in cases like this.

Brenda could tell when the blanket began to warm the fear-chilled girl. The trembling slowed, but she saw the cornered-animal look on her face.

I can't say anything. If you picked him up for assault and battery...when he got out... She shook her head. No, she whispered, staring past the patrolwoman.

Miss, do you feel a little better? A tiny nod of the head was the only answer. Can you tell me your name? Panic was written on her face as she wagged her head back and forth despite the pain it must have been causing her. We won't be able to do much for you unless you tell us who you are and who did this to you.

Wreck, came out the weak answer.

I wish that were true, but just between us girls, I don't think your car has fingers and the bruises on your left arm match up to four fingers and a thumb exerting a massive amount of pressure. Please let me help you.

Nancy. Nancy Owens, she croaked out.

Brenda didn't believe the quick answer. It was probably a friend or relative's name...and probably one who lived in another state. Miss Owens, will you tell me who did this? The girl shook her head, closed her eye and rested her head back against the pillow. It was probably a tactic to avoid the questions, but could also be a response to the painkiller she has been given. Tell you what...I'll check back later when you're feeling a little better.

As the police officer exited the room, she almost collided with another woman. Sorry.

No problem. I'm Dr. Madison Cooper and Miss Doe is my patient.

I was able to get her name, but not the name of who did that to her. Her name is Nancy Owens. She's very frightened, almost petrified. Whoever did this is one mean son-of-a-bitch...excuse me, she glanced around the emergency room with the rows of beds and hanging curtains that failed to give any real privacy or dignity to the people huddled behind them.

Forget it, Madison smiled. These walls, and I'm sure most of the people we get in here at this hour, have heard much worse.

Thanks. Anyway, she wouldn't give me the guy's name, but maybe she'll tell me later after she has a chance to think about it. If not, maybe she'll tell you or one of the other staff. Please let me know if she does. I'd like to go after the bas...jerk.

You can have him first as long as you promise to allow me a crack at him. We have needles and tubes here for bodily orifices guaranteed to make a person very uncomfortable.

Brenda smiled. I can't guarantee it, but I'll do my best. Will she be staying the night?

Yes, I have X-ray coming and then we'll want to observe her for at least 24 hours. She took some serious blows to her head and I want to be sure she's okay before we release her.

Good. I'll be back later in my shift.

Madison glanced in on Miss Owens, saw her resting peacefully, and went to tell the charge nurse to notify her immediately if anyone came in asking about Nancy Owens. They were to be told nothing, not even that she was there. She wanted nothing to tip the guy off before the police had a chance to get there and arrest him. She wanted him to pay for doing this. If he got to the patient, she'd be too afraid to talk. Madison didn't want that to happen if she could help it.

Almost an hour later, Madison stopped by the desk and asked for the x-rays. When a quick search of the desk didn't produce any, Madison reached across the counter, grabbed the phone and punched in the number to check on the missing films.

We couldn't find her, came the tired voice over the phone line.

'What? She's in Trauma Three."

Not when we arrived. I figured she was moved or released. That new nurse, Sue, didn't know and you were in T-1 with that gunshot wound, so I told her to call if you still needed us.

Madison dropped the phone on the workstation table as she stormed into T-3, already knowing what she'd find before she jerked to a halt inside the door. The bed was empty. Damn.

****

Anyway, Madison concluded, glancing at her sister, I ran into her out in the quad area in front of Wesley Hall. She was embarrassed. She apologized for leaving, but insisted she was fine and that she has broken up with the boyfriend. I sure hope so.

Why do women put up with men who abuse them? I'll never understand it. Well, enough on that, I don't want to ruin my lunch. So, Sis, what did you get me for Christmas?

Chapter Two

What in the name of heaven above were you thinking, Steve? Tag yelled at the top of his lungs while glaring at the silent detective standing at attention in front of his battered desk.

Three full minutes of tirade and Steve had yet to look directly into the eyes of his superior. It would have been obvious, even to a rookie, that it was safer not to answer any questions right now. The Captain had to get his anger out first. He had the urge to slough, but thought better of it. The Captain might think he wasn't listening and not only was he listening, but everyone in the squad room was listening. He silently prayed the lecture would wind down soon.

I can't believe a man with your experience and your intelligence would lose control to the point of hitting a reporter. Was the pea-sized piece of gray matter rolling around in that thick skull of yours taking a nap?

No sir. The volume hadn't abated, still not safe to relax.

Do you have any idea what trouble you've made for this department? he glanced toward heaven for help as he flopped back into a chair that creaked from too many years of use.

Okay, things were winding down. The Captain's volume was lessening in strength.

Steve, I can't have my men taking potshots at the press. It makes the Mayor call me and that makes me angry and then it makes me yell. I don't like yelling. I'm old. I'm tired, he concluded wearily, rubbing a scarred hand down his face.

"Sir, maybe he deserved it and maybe