by C. M. Sutter
“How did they die? Were they together? Did they all die at once, in the same manner? Tell us what’s going on.”
“Sir, we believe the ten people killed in the last forty-eight hours were at the hands of at least two individuals, maybe more. They have an agenda, a wrong to right, and this is the time they decided to act on that vendetta, if you will.”
“A vendetta against our daughter? She was a restaurant manager. Did somebody dislike the food at Dalia’s?”
“No, ma’am. We don’t believe any of the victims were acquainted with each other, and we don’t believe the murders had anything to do with their occupations. The only people who knew why they were chosen were the killers.”
“What about witnesses?”
“Because none of the cars have been found and all the bodies were located in less than desirable neighborhoods, we believe the killers are doing their best to make our investigation as difficult as possible. There are four other families who are grieving, too, and we need to find out if the victims had connections with each other that none of us are aware of. That’s why we’re here. We need to know everything about Tamara’s life that you can think of.”
Marie frowned. “You mean her daily activities, where she went, who she talked to?”
“We realize you wouldn’t know all of that, but anything you can give us will help put the puzzle pieces together.”
“Okay, well, Tamara called me every morning around ten a.m. as she cooled down from her morning run.”
“And she ran alone?”
“She did as far as I know.” Marie rubbed her forehead. “I always worried about that since she lives in a rural area north of here along the lake. Mostly weekend cottages tucked back in the woods. Did someone—”
“Ma’am, we don’t know where Tamara was killed since we have no idea where her car is at. We have BOLOs out for every victim’s vehicle. There could be evidence of a deliberate hit to the car, which is a ruse criminals often use to either abduct people, rob them, or carjack the vehicle.”
Marie pulled a tissue from the dispenser on the coffee table and dabbed her eyes.
“What else besides the daily phone call after her run? Did she go to a gym too?”
Mike said she didn’t. “She does take business classes at UWM twice a week, though. Eventually, she wants to open her own restaurant.”
Marie covered his hand with her own. “She wanted to open a restaurant, but now that will never happen.” Her voice caught in her throat, and she sobbed openly.
“Did Tamara have a steady boyfriend or someone who might have been more than just a friend? Also, was there anyone she spoke of who was angry with her—an employee or a neighbor, maybe?”
Marie shook her head. “Nobody that she spoke of to us.”
I glanced down at my notes. “Okay, so she ran every morning, and she took business classes at UWM. Anything else?”
“Other than having a normal social life, no. She went out with her friends on occasion, whether they were work friends or people she knew from her classes. She traveled, she obviously loved to cook and entertained now and then, but that’s all I can think of,” Marie said.
“How often did you see her?” Renz asked.
Marie shook her head. “I probably saw her more than Michael did since I don’t work outside the home. I guess I saw her twice a week. Sometimes, she’d come over for supper on the weekends if she wasn’t working since that’s about the only time she’d see her dad.”
I nodded as I wrote. “Do you have a key to her cottage?”
“We do.”
“May we borrow it? We’d like to take a look inside to see if there are any clues before you start going through it.”
“I suppose so.”
“Also, do you know her running route?”
Marie nodded. “Yes, it was a two-mile loop around the street she lived on from her house on Lake Vista to Oak Ridge Drive and then a right on Hidden Cove Way. That circles back to Lake Vista Road.”
“Okay, thank you. I guess that’s everything we need for now except the key. We’ll make sure to get it back to you in the next few days. Again, we’re so sorry for your loss,” Renz said.
“Agents?”
Renz looked back. “Yes, Mike?”
“When can we see her?”
Renz rubbed his chin. “Give us a few days. I promise we’ll reach out when the time is right.”
Chapter 24
Evelyn poured a second cup of coffee for both of them and returned to the table. She let out a sigh as she took her seat and stared at the chart Jacob had created.
“Do you think they’re suffering yet?”
“Of course they are. We did, and you do remember how that felt, right?”
She nodded. “I can’t believe five months and five days have passed already.” She covered Jacob’s hand with her own. “I also can’t believe we’ve been strong enough to survive it. I do feel bad about the homeless people, though—”
Jacob shushed her. “It was necessary, Evie. Do you really think they were living their best lives? Most homeless people are mentally challenged, drug abusers, or alcoholics. Their families have thrown them out and abandoned them. Why do you think they end up homeless and have nothing but their own wits to get by on? I’m sure some commit suicide too.” Jacob sighed. “Anyway, we needed to make sure we had reliable, trustworthy people who would get the job done. They had to prove themselves.” He tapped the chart with his index finger. “We’re almost there, so don’t start second-guessing the plan. Those people covered everything up as if it never happened and we didn’t matter. They’re the criminals, and now it’ll be exposed in the worst way they’d ever imagine. When it’s all said and done, they’ll pay their dues.”
“But what about Romans 12:19?”
Jacob wagged his finger at his wife. “There are all kinds of Bible passages you can quote. What about an eye for an eye? Yet there’s the turn-the-other-cheek quote too. Now isn’t the time to backpedal on what we’re doing. It’s too late to stop. It’s close to the end, and God will forgive us if we’re sincere in asking for it. Have faith in that.”
Evelyn took a sip of coffee and stared into her cup. “Have you seen the news?”
“Yes, and they’re saying only what they have to. Those FBI agents Erik spoke of are keeping a tight lid on the real facts. They don’t want the manner of death to get out, and they certainly aren’t going to give away their theories.”
“Do you think they actually have a theory?”
“Of course they do, but they’re so far off they’ll never figure it out. We’ll complete our mission without anyone ever putting the puzzle pieces together. The people responsible may never be exposed for the corrupt trash they are, unless the truth gets out, but we’ll still have the satisfaction of ridding them from this world.”
“I can’t wait until that day of reckoning. Maybe after five months of anguish, I’ll be able to sleep through the night again,” Evelyn said.
“I hope so, honey.”
Chapter 25
We reached the cottage on Lake Vista Road and pulled into the short gravel driveway. I immediately noticed that there wasn’t a garage, so there would be no reason to wonder whether Tamara’s car was there or not. The cute cottage had white clapboard siding and dark-green shutters. A ground-to-rooftop stone fireplace accented the left side of the home, and wooden shake shingles topped the roof. The small yard was full of flower beds, some still with color, and the grass was a vibrant green. I imagined that in several months, everything would be covered in a blanket of snow, including the huge pine trees that lined the road in front of the home. The place was a gem and something I would long for as a weekend retreat.
“Well?”
I nodded as I opened the passenger-side door. “Yep, no time like the present.”
We walked the slate sidewalk to the front door only thirty feet from the car. Renz turned the key in the dead bolt and pushed open the door.
The home w
as as neat as a pin. Business course books lay on the coffee table, a bowl of fresh fruit was centered on the breakfast bar, and the refrigerator was fully stocked. The cottage was only a one-bedroom, one-bath home, but it was decorated thoughtfully and looked cozy and inviting.
My mind went to the image of Tamara lying on a filthy mattress in an abandoned house in one of the worst neighborhoods of Milwaukee. We hadn’t been to the actual scene, but we did see photographs from all five murders, and none of the victims deserved the fate that was so violently chosen for them. I shook my head to clear my mind. I needed to look for clues, but since four other people had been killed in the same manner, I knew the likelihood of finding any incriminating evidence was extremely low. I entered the bedroom, and the bed had been made. There weren’t even clothes strewn across the upholstered wingback chair that sat under the window facing the rear of the house.
“Wow, she was truly a neatnik, but I guess that isn’t so hard to do when you live alone.” I glanced at Renz. “Right?”
He shrugged. “I’m pleading the fifth.”
I grinned. “I think our time is better served walking the route she ran every day.”
“Why? We know she went to work last night and clocked out shortly after eleven once all the employees had left. It’s not like she was going to go for a run late at night, and her car would have been here if that was the case.”
I grumbled as I gave the house another quick scan. “You’re right, and it isn’t like there’s signs of a break-in. Let’s lock up and just drive the route before we leave.”
Renz rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Let’s take a look out back and in the mailbox first.”
We rounded the cottage to a wide view of Lake Michigan. The wind on that side of the house was brisk, and far below the bluff where we stood, whitecaps dotted the water’s surface.
“How beautiful is this?”
Renz shielded his eyes and looked out over the lake. “Pretty beautiful.”
I sighed. “Okay, back to the real world of gritty locations and dead bodies.”
After looking in the empty mailbox we climbed into the cruiser and headed down Lake Vista Road until it intersected with Oak Ridge Drive. We drove it for a half mile and saw Hidden Cove Way. I pointed at the road sign. “Make a right turn there, Renz. Isn’t that a pretty name for a road?”
“It is, and everything out here is pretty too. I bet even a small cottage like Tamara’s goes for three hundred thousand or more.”
I had to agree. “Probably more.”
Renz weaved around the two-lane roads. The entire area was wooded with a mix of oak, maple, and pine trees. The sugar maples were the first to change colors, and the vibrant reds, yellows, and oranges were beautiful. As I stared into the woods, I understood why Tamara ran that route—it was peaceful and quiet. I would have loved to walk the two-mile distance and take in nature, but we were on the clock and had other people to interview.
Renz rounded the final curve where Hidden Cove Way met Lake Vista Road. When a flash of sunlight bounced off something through the trees, I looked across to the other side of the deep ravine. I jerked my head over my right shoulder.
“What’s wrong?”
“I saw something, or should I say the sunlight bounced off something. Back up, Renz.”
He shifted into Reverse and backed up slowly. “Tell me when to stop.”
I held up my hand until I saw that ray of light again. “Stop now and kill the engine. We need to check out whatever that is.” As soon as the car was stopped, I leapt out and looked over the shoulder’s edge. “A car is down there!”
He rounded the nose of our car and stood at my side. “Damn it. What color was Tamara’s car?”
“Um… I don’t remember. All my notes are in my briefcase.”
Renz dialed the Kent home while I looked for the best way to descend the steep hillside. He hung up seconds later.
“Well?”
“Marie said Tamara’s car was cranberry red.”
“And so is that one. Let’s go.”
“How?”
“Sit on your ass and scoot down. There are plenty of roots and limbs to hang on to.”
Renz reached in his pockets and pulled out the contents.
“What are you doing?”
“Putting everything that’s important back in the car in case something falls out of my pockets.”
I patted my own pockets. “I’m good.”
He was back in seconds. “Okay, just sit on our asses and scoot, huh?”
“It’s probably the safest way. Lower center of gravity than standing.”
It took a good fifteen minutes to get to the bottom of the wooded ravine, but we reached the car unscathed. The vehicle was lying on the driver’s side and butted against a large maple tree. I wondered if the passenger-side door had been opened since it was unlatched. Nobody and nothing of value was inside except the keys, which were still in the ignition, and what looked like blood on the steering wheel. I popped the glove box in hopes of finding an insurance card and did.
“Look at this. It’s definitely Tamara’s car, and she was less than a mile from home.” I pushed through the thick brush to look all the way around the car, but because it was lying on its side, there wasn’t anything we could see on the driver’s side.
Renz scratched his head. “That really sucks.”
“Which part in particular?”
“The part that may have shown us how the car ended up down here. If she was run off the road by the perp, then likely there would have been damage to the left rear quarter panel, but now there’s no way to know if the damage to that side was from a hit or from careening down the hillside. We need to get a truck with a tow cable out here.” Renz reached in his pocket. “Damn it. My phone is in the car.”
I chuckled. “You probably wouldn’t have gotten a signal in this gully anyway.”
We held onto tree roots and pulled ourselves back up the hill, then I brushed as much dirt off my clothes as I could while Renz called Taft.
“She’s sending out a tow truck, so we’ll have to wait here until it comes.”
“So the killer followed her almost all the way home. They’re working awfully hard to stage the victims. I mean, if the intent is to kill them, then just do it. Why hide the vehicle and then move the body?”
Renz swatted the dirt from his pants as he answered. “Because they want the bodies found and the families to feel anguish. It’s bad enough to have a family member murdered, but then to dispose of them like trash is even worse.”
I nodded. “Plus, nobody would know exactly where they were killed.” I jerked my chin at the ravine. “Except in this case. Once that car went down the hill, there was no way that it was coming back up.”
“But the killer somehow got Tamara out of the ravine, which couldn’t have been easy.”
“Unless there was more than one of them.” I frowned. “I wonder how many killers there actually are.”
Chapter 26
The tow truck arrived at eleven fifteen. Renz directed the driver to stop behind our vehicle, then he walked to the driver’s-side window.
“You call for a tow?”
“Not exactly. We need you to pull a vehicle up out of that ravine.” Renz showed the driver his FBI badge. “We need the car on level ground, and then we’ll take it from there. Our crime lab’s flatbed is en route too.”
“Sure. Why don’t you show me what we’ve got.” The driver climbed out of the truck and walked to the shoulder’s edge with Renz. “Damn, that car is down there all right. I think it’s doable, though. Just have to release the steel cable, go down there with it and attach it to the undercarriage. I guess it doesn’t matter what kind of condition the car ends up in since it’s pretty trashed already.”
Renz shook his head. “The least amount of additional damage the better. We have to go over the car forensically.”
“Hmm… maybe I can flip it back on its tires and pull it up. I’ll give it a try.”
>
“Thanks. That would be great.”
After the cable was secured to the steering wheel, the driver was able to pull the car into its upright position. He scurried down the hill and repositioned the winch to the car’s undercarriage. Once again in the truck, he dragged the car up the side of the ravine through brush, tree limbs, and over large roots.
Renz and I stared at the vehicle as it sat on the roadway. All of the window glass was broken out on the driver’s side, dents covered nearly every surface, and the entire vehicle had twigs and leaves jammed into every opening.
“Good enough?” the tow truck driver asked.
“Absolutely. I’m assuming the charges were taken care of over the phone?”
“You bet. It’s all good.”
We thanked him, and he drove away. Renz checked the time. We still had to wait for the flatbed to arrive, and hours were slipping away when we could have been interviewing Tamara’s workmates. Most of those evening employees started work at three o’clock, and noon had come and gone. I doubted that the car could tell us anything unless, by some miracle, the killer had left fingerprints behind. Even if Forensics could say with one hundred percent certainty that the vehicle was pitted from the rear driver’s side, we still didn’t know who followed her there and forced her over the edge.
We finally heard the lumbering sound of the flatbed heading our way. Renz tipped his wrist and checked the time.
“Doubt that we’ll get any interviews in today. I’ll find out what Taft wants us to do.”
Renz paced up and down the road as I spoke with the flatbed driver. I watched as he winched the car, for the third time that day, and pulled it up on the ramp to the truck’s flat surface. There, he chained it down and said he was heading to the county’s crime lab garage. I signed the release form, and he drove away.
I saw Renz walking my way. “So?”
“So, Taft said to head back. She’s calling everyone in, we’ll discuss what we’ve learned, try to make some sense of it, and go from there.”
“Sounds like a plan.” I headed to the passenger door.
