Prologue

Pierce County Courthouse

Tacoma, Washington

Five years ago…

“Is the prosecution prepared to give closing arguments?”

Eloise Fisher—Ellie to those who knew her well—looked up from the notes she’d been reviewing and offered the judge a friendly smile. “We are, Your Honor.”

Only this time, there was no we.

There was only her.

“Very well.” The black-haired, sixty-something woman sitting high in her pleated black robe gave a nod. “You may proceed.”

Nerves fired throughout every cell in Ellie’s body, but she kept that smile steady and pretended otherwise. She could do this. She would do this.

There was no other option.

Words she’s practiced ad nauseam over the past two weeks began rolling through her head. For weeks, she’d gone over what she would say when this moment finally came.

At home. In her car. Whenever she found herself alone in an elevator. On her morning jogs.

Every chance she got, Ellie found herself uttering the perfected words. But the time for rehearsing was over. This was it. The real deal.

And with so much on the line, it didn’t get any more real than this.

You can do this, El. You wouldn’t be here if you couldn’t.

Her lungs filled with a slow, deep breath she prayed no one else could see. On a silent exhale, she rose to her feet and stepped out from behind the prosecutor’s table.

The thin heels of her black patent calf Louboutins echoed against the tan tiled floor as Ellie made her way into the area of the courtroom known as The Well. She forced herself to focus solely on the carefully chosen words she’d prepared rather than the fact that this was the biggest case of her career to date.

Biggest.

Most stressful.

Most frightening.

As an Assistant Prosecutor, this wasn’t the first time she’d taken the lead or led her own solo trial. But this trial was different. It was her first high-profile case. And the defendant—George Ray Harvey—well…

He was Ellie’s first serial killer.

By definition, serial killers are those who murder three or more victims. The cops tracked down and captured Harvey not long after his fourth kill.

The sensationalized story of the man known as the Seattle Stalker had garnered national headlines. News and radio stations from across the country gave daily—sometimes hourly—updates to the general public so they could stay abreast of the happenings inside the courtroom.

As if that wasn’t enough, every social media platform in existence was filled with news clips, memes, and personal videos from random strangers. It seemed as if everyone across the globe had something to say on the matter.

People were constantly being interviewed. Family members of the victims and the monster who’d killed them, as well as a few of Harvey’s neighbors who openly shared their thoughts, opinions, and theories about a man they swore could never commit such heinous crimes.

Of course, to make matters worse, there’d also been an almost constant media presence surrounding Ellie since before the trial began. Outside her firm, her apartment building, her gym…

No matter where she went, the blinding lights from cameras would flash, and microphones would be shoved in her face. The entire world, it seemed, was obsessed with the question of whether the Seattle Stalker would be sent to prison for the rest of his life…or bet set free.

He has to be stopped. I have to stop him.

Ellie slid a hidden glance toward the man sitting in the defendant’s seat at the table to her left. The sixty-four-year-old man kept his spine straight, and his chin held high. His salt-and-pepper hair sheared so close to his scalp, the look almost that of a hardened soldier.

Only this man wasn’t a soldier. He was a monster. One Ellie prayed would never walk the streets a free man again.

I have to stop him.

“Miss Fisher?” Judge Watkins’ voice pulled Ellie away from her thoughts.

Damn it, El. Get your head in the game.

Snapping herself out of the untimely trance, she quickly offered the intelligent woman a flash of a smile. “My apologies, Your Honor.” Ellie turned back to the jury. “Good afternoon.” She released an exaggerated sigh. “Wow. We finally made it. I bet most of you are so relieved to be at this stage of the trial.”

Several nodded with their own personalized versions of a you ain’t kidding expression.

“Believe me, I know exactly how you feel.” Ellie gave a soft chuckle. “It’s been a long, hard road for us all, which is why I’d like to take a moment to thank you. For your presence during this trial, the dedication to the civic duty in which you were called to serve, for your concentration and impressive listening skills during the hours and hours…and hours of testimony you’ve heard…” She paused briefly as a few soft laughs filled the otherwise quiet room. “I’d also like to thank you for your patience in allowing me to present the State’s case with the attention it deserved. But really, it isn’t the case itself that deserves your dedication to the truth. It’s them.”

She pointed to the easel positioned in front of the empty witness stand. Angled to face the jury more than the gallery—where the public sat during the proceedings—the large white posterboard displayed four eight-by-ten pictures.

Four young, smiling women who had their whole life ahead of them. Four victims who’d been brutally murdered by the man Ellie had been charged with putting behind bars.

“As jurors,” she continued, “part of your obligation is to consider whether there is another way to look at this case. To ask yourself, could someone else have killed these four women? Could someone other than the defendant be responsible for the insurmountable loss the victims’ families have had no choice but to face?”

She gave a perfectly timed, dramatic pause, letting the men and women before her really think about that for a moment. When she spoke again, Ellie took the speech in a more personal direction.

“My father used to say anything was possible.” She grinned, allowing the jurors a moment to see her as someone’s daughter rather than simply a ruthless prosecutor out for the defendant’s blood. “But then I got older. And with age came wisdom. A wisdom I’m confident you and I share. You see, I realized some things aren’t possible, and no matter how much we would like to believe the contrary…no matter how hard opposing counsel has tried convincing you that his client is innocent of heinous act of murder…as adults, you and I understand that simply wishing for something doesn’t make it so.”

Someone in the gallery coughed, and Ellie used the distraction to pull in a cleansing breath in preparation for stage two of the speech she knew by heart.

“No one else’s DNA was found on the murder weapon police recovered near the final victim’s place of death,” she continued. “Only George Ray Harvey’s. And by defense’s own admission, Mr. Harvey has no alibi. Not for the night of the first murder. Or the second. Or the third…” Another pause. “In fact, Mr. Harvey has no alibi for any of the nights in question. No witnesses to place him somewhere other than the murder scenes. No receipts from a gas station or grocery store or fast-food restaurant to prove his innocence. In fact, even the defendant’s own son couldn’t swear under oath that his father was at home the nights those four innocent women were slain. All we have to go on is Mr. Harvey’s word. And remember, ladies and gentlemen… his word is his only defense. His sworn statement that he was home. In bed. Alone.”

The peel of a phone ringing echoed off the courtroom walls, but the upbeat song was abruptly silenced as the owner presumably rushed to turn it off. Clearing her throat, Ellie kept going as if that phone had never rung.

“You’ve heard from the experts on both sides of this case. We’ve all heard and seen the numbers and percentages. You’ve been shown several colorful graphs and listened to hours upon hours of very detailed, very scientific testimony. Now, I don’t know about you, but my brain tends to go kind of numb when I’m faced with a jumble of numbers and graphs. Of course, math never really was my strong suit, so…”

As expected, several jurors chuckled in agreement. Most people hated math, hence the comment.

“But even I could make sense of the testimony given by the experts in this case,” she shared. “Even I can understand that the probability of someone other than George Ray Harvey being the killer is virtually zero. Which can only mean one thing.” With a sad smile lifting one corner of her mouth, Ellie met the eyes of the twelve men and women staring back at her. “My father was wrong.” She waited for the newest round of snickers and chuckles to dissipate before continuing. “Some things simply aren’t possible, and this trial…and the evidence presented here…proves it.”

Her heels clicked again as she began a slow, purposeful pace along the wooden wall dividing the well from the jury box. This next part was the most important. This was where she had to nail down the jury’s convictions. If she didn’t—

Stay. Focused.

“George Ray Harvey is a cold-blooded, calculating killer who viciously stole the lives of those four women.” She pointed back to the easel and began listing off the victim’s names. “Julie Fontaine. Amy Moore. Katherine Hodgins. Stacy Russo.” Her eyes found the jury once more. “All four of those young women’s families are here today. They’re here in hopes of finding the only semblance of peace they have left. But that peace can’t come from me.” She shook her head and motioned toward the twelve men and women facing her. “It has to come from you.”

Please, God. Please at least let this jury give those poor families some closure.

“Your job as jurors is to determine the guilt or innocence of the accused,” Ellie went on. “To determine whether there is even the slightest bit of reasonable doubt present in this case. You’re here because it is up to you to decide if the police caught the real killer or if they arrested the wrong man. Well you can rest easy, ladies and gentlemen. Because your job has already been done for you.”

She filled her lungs again, refusing to let a single person in the courtroom see just how scared she really was. Ellie wasn’t afraid of the defendant—although the murderous bastard had done his damnedest to ensure otherwise. No, she was terrified he’d be set free.

“Over and over again, we’ve proven to you that the police did, in fact, arrest the right man,” Ellie reminded the jury. “You’ve been shown mounds of irrefutable evidence pointing only to the defendant. No one else. Why? Because, ladies and gentlemen. He is your killer.”

She glanced out into the sea of onlookers. The gallery was filled with victim’s families and friends. Several from the general public who’d stood in line for hours in order to secure a seat inside the most infamous trial to hit Seattle in decades. And filling the space behind them was a trove of reporters with their tripods, cameras, tablets, and notebooks.

They’d all gathered together to witness both sides making their final pleas. But it was those closest to the victims that left Ellie’s chest tight and her heart aching.

“George Ray Harvey brutally tortured those four young women. Women with families and friends.” She pointed back to the family members present as she repeated the victim’s names. “Julie Fontaine. Amy Moore. Katherine Hodgins. Stacy Russo. They weren’t nameless, faceless victims. They were daughters. Granddaughters. Sisters and nieces.” A brief but effective pause. “And now they’re dead because of one man…George Ray Harvey.”

Ellie forced herself to look back at the defendant. An eerie chill raced down her spine, and the tiny hairs on the back of Ellie’s neck stood on end when she found his cold gray eyes staring straight back into hers.

Ignoring her body’s instinctual reaction to evil, she continued to do everything in her power to ensure a solid conviction…

“That man sitting right there kidnapped those poor, innocent women. Taking them by surprise, he gave each woman an incapacitating blow to the head before injecting them with propofol. The women were unconscious within seconds.”

It was an ugly picture to paint. Unfortunately Ellie wasn’t anywhere near ready for her final brush stroke.

“After ensuring his victims couldn’t fight back, Mr. Harvey then drove them to a cabin in the woods. While in captivity, those four women were refused food. Water. A proper bathroom. For forty-eight hours straight, the defendant proceeded to not only starve his victims, but he also beat them. Tortured them. And after forty-eight straight hours of what I can only imagine to be an unthinkable hell, George Ray Harvey began using his knife to inflict as much physical pain as possible.”

Several sniffles and muted sobs filled the otherwise silent room. Ellie’s heart physically hurt for the pain those women—and their families—had endured.

This is it. The final stage. It’s now or never.

“Mr. Harvey eventually tired of the women he saw as nothing more than objects. And when that time came, he granted the kind of peace only death could bring by slicing their throats while they were still tied to a chair and unable to fight back. And then, a few seconds later, after his victims bled out, he dragged them out behind the cabin, tossed their bodies into a shallow grave, and then he set out in search of his next victim. Luckily the police managed to catch him before another innocent life could be taken by his hands.”

Tears formed in several of the jurors” eyes. The few that fell gave Ellie hope that the men and women before her had truly been listening, that she’d reached them on a level that spoke to their desire to see justice served.

“I want you to look at the victims’ families, ladies and gentlemen.” She motioned for the jury to turn toward the family members in attendance. “I want you to see the pain and loss these people have had no choice but to face. It’s a loss they will now be forced to live with for the rest of their lives.” Ellie filled her lungs before releasing the breath on a slow exhale and instructing, “Now I want you to look at the man who caused that pain and loss.”

Ten of the twelve heads immediately turned toward the defendant’s table. When two of the jurors continued with their hesitation, she brought herself a couple of steps closer to where they sat.

With a friendly, supportive smile, she told them softly, “It’s okay. He can’t hurt you from there.”

The two women stared back at her a moment longer before sliding their wary gazes in Harvey’s direction.

“Thank you.” Ellie let her smile grow just a tad. “Now I want you all to take a good, hard look at George Ray Harvey and ask yourselves this. Do you want to be the ones responsible for putting a man like that…a man who could very well go after your daughter or your sister…back out onto the streets? Because that’s exactly what will happen if you come back with anything other than a guilty verdict, ladies and gentlemen. Because it’s not a matter of if this man will kill again. It’s when.”

A look of fear crossed over several of the juror’s faces, and all but three immediately looked away from the defendant’s table. Though she wanted to, Ellie forced the smile pulling at her lips to remain hidden.

“You heard it from experienced detectives working the case. Two separate, highly experienced criminal psychologists agreed. And now…” She swallowed her nerves. “Now you’re hearing it from me. If George Ray Harvey is set free, he will kidnap another woman. He will hit them over the head, put a needle in their neck, and he will take them someplace he feels is safe. He will then spend the next two days torturing and beating them…using his knife on them…and then, he will slice their throats and toss them away like garbage. And as long as he’s a free man, Mr. Harvey will repeat the horrific cycle again, and again…and again.”

Bringing the well-rehearsed speech to a close, Ellie kept her expression serious yet friendly as she drove her final point home.

“I don’t know about you, but I would sure as hell sleep better at night knowing a monster like George Ray Harvey is locked away for the rest of his life. So I beg of you, ladies and gentlemen, do the right thing—the just thing—and put the defendant behind bars. Because that’s exactly where monsters like him belong. Thank you.”

You’re wrong. Men like Harvey belong in Hell.

Yes, they sure as hell did. But since the governor recently abolished capital punishment in Washington State, life in prison without the possibility of parole was the best Ellie—and the victims’ families—could hope for.

Keeping her shoulders back and her head held high, she turned and walked back to her seat. Defense counsel rose and began his usual spiel.

His client was innocent. He’d been set up. Evidence had been planted…

Yada, yada, yada.

The entire time the short, balding man spoke, she kept her expression schooled and her posture relaxed. If she looked nervous or worried in the slightest, the jury may question the validity of her final statements. If that happened, they could very well spiral down a rabbit hole of doubts about the entirety of the case she’d presented…

Expert testimony. DNA evidence. Police statements from the night Harvey was arrested.

Questioning any one of those things could lead a juror to convince themselves that reasonable doubt existed. Even when it didn’t.

There was no reasonable doubt here. Only hard, tangible facts. She just prayed the jury realized that, too.

Harvey’s lawyer spent the next several minutes going on and on about the injustice his client had faced. Rather than roll her eyes into the back of her head—which was very, very tempting—Ellie began a mental checklist to disprove her opponent’s case.

With every argument he tried to make, Ellie would cross it off her imaginary list. It wasn’t hard, given that she’d already disproven the man’s same points already during the trial, either with expert testimony or during cross-examination.

She turned and looked at the jury. Like the dutiful citizens they were, all twelve men and women appeared to be hanging on the attorney’s every word.

To the inexperienced eye, perhaps. But Ellie, well…she often saw things others couldn’t.

Between her extensive education, experience, and natural-born instincts, she had the eyes of a lawyer. She knew the all the important signs to look for in a jury. Little ticks and tells letting her know they either believed what they were being told…or they didn’t.

A fidget here. A small shift there. The breaking of eye contact or a slight tilt of their head. A scratch of an arm, or a hand absentmindedly rubbing over a tensed up jaw.

Each one of those tiny, subconscious movements was like a tell in a game of poker. Only the pot at stake in this game wasn’t a fat stack of cash. It was the additional innocent lives that would most certainly be lost should the jury set George Ray Harvey free.

Ellie slid the accused a hidden, sideways glance. Harvey’s fit, formidable stature—combined with salt-and-pepper hair that was sheered so close to his scalp—almost made her think of a soldier.

Not one who protected others’ freedoms but rather one who took those freedoms away. A soldier of death who stalked his prey for days, taunting them with notes, phone calls, and even acts of vandalism. And then…when the moment was right…

The sick, twisted asshole struck.

“Therefore, you have no choice but to find my client innocent of all charges,” Defense council completed his final statements. “Thank you.”

Ellie nearly choked on the man’s words.

Innocent my ass.

Sitting quietly, she waited as Judge Watkins gave the jury their final instructions. With the ball now officially in their court, Ellie knew she wouldn’t get a moment of peace until they came back with the verdict.

The shortest turnaround time she’d had on a case so far was nine hours. The longest…seventeen days.

Praying this one fell closer to the former, Ellie pushed herself to her feet and began gathering her things. She reached toward the thick stack of files in front of her, sliding each folder one by one into her leather briefcase.

A low humming of conversation mixed with the sounds of people standing and making their way out of the courtroom. Tuning it all out, Ellie’s mind was already five steps ahead with thoughts of preparing for an appeal should the jury come back with a not-guilty verdict.

It was crazy to think that could even be possible, but she’d been in the courtroom long enough to know it was. Though it didn’t happen often, thank God, she had first-hand knowledge that sometimes…sometimes…killers managed to walk free.

That can’t happen this time. Not with this man. Not this killer.

Ellie shoved the yellow legal pad filled with scribbled notes into a different section of her briefcase. With a haphazard toss, she was reaching for her cell phone and pen when a loud commotion sounded from somewhere to her left.

So many things happened all at once that her shocked brain couldn’t make sense of what she was seeing until it was too late.

George Ray Harvey had just stabbed his attorney in the side of the neck with something. Was that an ink pen? Ellie couldn’t be sure.

She didn’t have time to see what weapon Harvey had used because, in the very next seconds that followed, the deputy who’d been charged with escorting the murderer to and from the courtroom raced forward.

The man’s face was red with fury, a large vein in his forehead bulging with rage as he yelled at Harvey to stop. The deputy pulled his department-issued weapon free from its holster. At the same time, Harvey lunged, the man desperately reaching for the gun. Though the deputy tried with all his might to keep his weapon secured, Harvey managed to yank the pistol free.

And that’s when all hell really broke loose.

Frozen in place by fear, Ellie had no choice but to watch with horror as Harvey turned the gun toward the deputy and fired. The sound of the blast was deafening as it echoed all around her, and her ears began to ring.

Screams and cries of terror came from those shoving their way through the courtroom’s large, double doors as people raced to escape the threat. Another shot rang out, and Ellie turned just in time to see the judge fall to the floor as she’d tried running to safety. A pool of blood instantly formed beneath the poor woman’s unmoving head.

Ohmygod!

The maniac had just stabbed his own attorney in the neck before shooting the guard and the judge. And now…now he was headed her way.

“Get down!” someone yelled.

But it was too late. Harvey was already there.

Ellie’s heart raced with fear and a desperation of its own. Damn it, she wasn’t ready to die! Not now. Not yet.

I’m only twenty-seven!

But with nowhere to go and no weapon at her disposal, there wasn’t anything she could do to—

The tips of her fingers brushed against the leather handles of her briefcase. The leather bag was still resting upright on the table before her, and Ellie knew all too well how heavy the damn thing could get when it was full.

It’s full now. It’s full, it’s heavy, and it’s the only chance you’ve got.

Harvey raised the gun clutched tightly in his hand. The breath in her lungs froze, and she sent up a quick, frantic prayer. And just as the barrel of that gun started to point straight at her own head, Ellie used every ounce of strength she had to throw her briefcase toward the weapon.

Leather met with metal, and a third shot blasted. The bullet went wild, thankfully only striking the wall somewhere behind her. The deputy’s stolen gun flew from Harvey’s hand, and for a second, Ellie thought it was over.

The man was now unarmed, and from her peripheral, she could see a handful of other deputies and law enforcement officials storming through the courtroom doors. But before they could stop him, Harvey threw himself at Ellie, his muscular form slamming into hers with such force, they both went tumbling to the floor.

Pain flashed when her head bounced off of the unforgiving tile. Tiny black dots filled her vision as she attempted to claw and kick her way out from beneath the man’s crushing weight.

“Help!” Ellie screamed as loudly as she could. “Help…me!”

Two civilians from the gallery got to them first and started pulling on Harvey’s broad shoulders. But even as he was struggling to fight them off, Harvey managed to reached down and wrap his meaty hands around her neck.

He began squeezing so hard that breathing became impossible. Ellie’s lungs burned with their efforts to take in life-saving oxygen, though none ever came.

An indescribable pressure filled her head to the point she thought it would literally explode. She continued kicking and scratching at Harvey’s bare hands to no avail. He was simply too strong, and she was growing weaker and weaker with each second that passed.

“You look just like them, you know,” Harvey whispered as he brought his lips next to her ear. “All that pretty brown hair…those crystal blue eyes.”

Something wet was smeared along that side of Ellie’s face, and it took her frenzied mind a few seconds to realize the sick son of a bitch had just licked her. Bile rushed to the base of her throat, the acid burning the delicate tissue there.

Oh, God! He’s really going to kill me! He’s going to—

“I will get out someday, sweet Eloise.” A hushed promise meant only for her ears. “And when I do…I’m coming after you.”

The black dots from before morphed into a cloud of darkness that surrounded her vision. It began closing in, framing the killer’s evil, smiling face. The pressure in her head became almost unbearable as the man’s unforgiving grip grew impossibly tighter.

Her lids fell shut, the darkness pulling her fully under. But just as she started to lose consciousness, the pressure—and the man who’d been trying to kill her—was gone.

“Get off of her, you son of a bitch!” A male voice yelled as her attacker was yanked back and thrown to the ground.

On reflex, Ellie’s eyes flew open, her mouth like a fish out of water as she struggled to find life-saving oxygen. Time and again, she filled her starving lungs. It took several gasping breaths for her body to realize the threat no longer existed.

Two muscular men in uniforms hauled Harvey out of the courtroom in cuffs while three others kept their very large, very scary-looking guns pointed directly at the man’s head. A solid deterrent if she ever saw one.

The small group disappeared through the secured door to the left of the judge’s bench. And just like that, the terrifying scene was over.

George Ray Harvey was back in cuffs and being led to what she could only hope would be solitary confinement until the jury returned with the final verdict. Given that he’d just murdered two members of the court in cold blood before trying to strangle her to death, a guilty verdict was all but guaranteed.

But as the medics rushed to her side to begin their initial assessment of her injuries, the only thing Ellie could think of were those menacing, threatening words…

I will get out someday, sweet Eloise. And when I do…I’m coming for you.