Afterburn: A Kenzie Gilmore Thriller

by BIBA PEARCE

  Reid didn’t need to think about it. “Sarah was found four days after she went missing. Miranda, three weeks. Mimi was also four days.”

  “He takes his time with them,” she whispered, putting down her knife and fork. Suddenly, she’d lost her appetite.

  “So it seems, but let’s not focus on that. We’ve got a lead. A real lead. Hopefully this will enable us to identify the Strangler and finally put the bastard behind bars.”

  “I’ll eat to that.” She picked up her utensils again.

  Reid sat down with a plate piled equally high. “I haven’t made these in ages.”

  “You’re pretty good at it,” she mumbled, her mouth full.

  He laughed. “I messed up the first few, but by the third I had it down pat.”

  “You know, if you ever decide to leave the force, you could become a chef.”

  “Nah. Toiling in a hot, sweaty kitchen isn’t for me. I much prefer catching bad guys.”

  So did she, but now she was relegated to writing about them. “Hey, when you catch him, I get the exclusive, remember?”

  He hesitated. “Yeah, but this investigation is at a critical stage. Writing anything now would warn him off and we can’t have that.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll wait for your go-ahead, but as soon as you have him in cuffs, you let me know.”

  “Deal.”

  Reid left Kenzie’s right after breakfast and headed to the station. He’d showered and changed last night, so he didn’t need to go home first.

  “You’re in a good mood,” said Chris, as Reid walked in. He realized he’d been humming to himself. He hadn’t done that in years.

  “What’s happening?” Reid asked Jonny, after he’d thrown his bag and jacket down on his chair. “Have you got an ID on the perp yet?”

  “We’ve got an address for the vehicle,” Jonny said. “We’re mobilizing now to pick him up. Want to come along?”

  “Hell yeah.” He didn’t need to think twice. It had been so long since he’d seen any action, he’d almost forgotten what it felt like.

  Now, as he geared up with the task force, he felt a familiar buzz as the adrenaline pumped through his system.

  “Let’s head out,” Jonny yelled.

  It was weird being part of the task force with Jonny in the lead. A year and a half ago, it was the other way round. Still, it was Reid’s choice to leave, and he was glad for his colleague. This was a big career move for him. It could result in a promotion to Sergeant.

  Ryan was with them, too. “This is my first real bust,” she admitted as they sped away in the police van.

  “You’ll be fine,” Reid told her. “Tactical is going in first, but we’ll be right behind them.”

  Pérez had pulled out all the stops for this one. “The Swamp Strangler has killed three women we know about,” he told the detectives before they left. “He’ll be armed and dangerous. We can’t afford to screw it up.”

  They got to the vehicle’s registered address, a two-story house with a rose-trellis ambling up the wall. It was situated on a wide, leafy avenue in one of Miami’s outer suburbs. It was so normal, it was weird, worrying almost.

  “He lives here?” asked Ryan, echoing Reid’s thoughts.

  “Ready?” called Jonny. They all nodded.

  “Go!”

  The tactical team advanced on the property. The door was painted a welcoming light blue. It matched the shutters over the windows.

  The next moment, it was in tatters, hanging off the latch.

  Chaos ensued as the armed officers entered. They identified themselves, then searched the house from bottom to top.

  “Here,” yelled an officer from the main upstairs bedroom.

  Jonny glanced at Reid. Perhaps it was habit, perhaps he needed some reinforcement. Reid nodded. “After you, buddy.”

  They went inside, weapons drawn. First Jonny, then Reid, with Ryan bringing up the rear. They found a man in bed with a young Latina girl. She couldn’t have been more than 18.

  “Get up!” barked Jonny. The guy was in his mid-thirties. Both sat up, their hands behind their heads. The tactical team trained their weapons on them, but considering they were both butt naked, Reid didn’t think they were armed.

  “W–What’s going on?” stammered the man. He was average height, a little paunchy, with dirty blond hair. Without clothes, he wasn’t very impressive.

  “You’re under arrest on suspicion of the murders of Sarah Randall, Miranda Hoberman, and Mimi Silverton,” said Jonny, like he’d been practicing it for some time.

  “Who?”

  The man looked genuinely confused.

  Something wasn’t right.

  “You know, the three women you raped and strangled,” Jonny iterated.

  The man’s eyes got bigger. “I didn’t kill no one.”

  “Baby? What’s going on?” the girl whimpered.

  “I got no idea.”

  Reid, who’d searched through the pile of clothes discarded around the room pulled out a wallet. “Stuart Halston,” he read. “That you?”

  “Yeah, that’s me.”

  “And that’s your Chevrolet Malibu outside?”

  “Yeah, what of it?”

  Reid looked at Jonny who said, “Put on some clothes. You’re coming with us.”

  “I want a lawyer,” the man cried as they cuffed him.

  His girlfriend was crying. “You too,” said Ryan, throwing her some clothes.

  “You’ll get one,” Jonny replied, as they lead them downstairs accompanied by the tactical team.

  “I'm going to search the house.” Reid pulled out a pair of forensic gloves. “Ryan, I could use a hand.”

  She nodded.

  “I’ll get these two back to the station,” said Jonny.

  “You don’t think it’s him, do you?” Ryan said, after they’d left.

  He was impressed by how intuitive she was.

  “I don’t know. He doesn’t strike me as a charmer who picks up single girls in bars. Still, that’s his car outside.” He shrugged. “Why don’t you take the upstairs and I’ll take down here. Look for any sign of the victims. Remember, he kept them locked up for days before he killed them.”

  Her eyes clouded over. “Yes, sir.”

  Reid started in the living room and moved through to the kitchen. The house wasn’t a complete mess, but it wasn’t in great shape either. He found a couple of wrappers down the back of the sofa, crumbs on the carpet, and two breakfast bowls in the sink. The bathroom was clear. There were no additional rooms downstairs, no basement, and no shed in the garden. Those girls hadn’t been kept here.

  Ryan came downstairs. “Nothing.” She shook her head.

  “Let’s check the garage.” It was the only place left.

  They walked from the kitchen into the attached garage holding an assortment of garden equipment and tools. Halston obviously parked his car outside in the drive. Reid took a good look around. He checked the tools for blood stains, searched the cupboards for plastic, duct tape, or anything else the killer would have needed to subdue his victims.

  “There’s no indication the girls were ever here,” Ryan said, after they’d checked every shelf and every cabinet.

  “Except for the vehicle,” Ryan pointed out.

  The CSI team was already loading the Chevrolet Malibu onto a flatbed trailer. It would be taken to the laboratory and analyzed for hair and skin cells from the dead women.

  Halston stared at it as if it was an unexploded bomb as he was ushered past into the waiting police vehicle. “I swear to God,” he pleaded, his voice breaking. “I didn’t kill anyone. I don’t even know who those girls are.”

  His lover was sobbing now. She was being put into a separate police car by a female police officer.

  Reid watched as they drove away. Was this guy the Swamp Strangler? All the evidence said he was, but his gut was telling him no.

  35

  “Who’s Kenzie?” Pérez asked once Reid
had gotten back to the station.

  He sighed. He’d known this was coming.

  “She’s a journalist. She interviewed me after I found Natalia Cruz’s body in the Glades.”

  “Jesus, you took her with you to question a suspect?” Pérez’s face turned a mottled red.

  “She was my in.” His voice was tight. “I hadn't agreed to take the case at that stage and she knew DJ Snake. Helped make him famous. That’s how I got inside the Sand Club and access to video footage.”

  Pérez studied him from under his bushy eyebrows. “You know we can’t risk a leak on this.”

  “She won’t leak it,” he said. “I’ve promised her an exclusive once we catch the guy.”

  “You know journalists,” he grunted. “Can’t trust ‘em.”

  Reid knew he was thinking back to the sting operation that had gone so terribly wrong. What would he say if he knew it was the same reporter?

  “It’s under control,” he said.

  Commotion came from the interrogation room. “Let’s make sure we have the right freakin’ guy in custody before you tell her anything. This one’s already lawyered up and telling anyone who’ll listen that he didn’t do it. I have to say, he doesn’t look much like a serial killer.”

  “They never do,” muttered Reid, but the lieutenant was right. Halston didn’t match the description the first two victims’ friends had given. They’d said tall and dark. This guy was average and a messy blond. He might pass for dark in a club, though. Maybe.

  Jonny was preparing for the interview.

  “If you push him, he’ll probably break,” Reid said before Jonny went in. The senior detective nodded. “Yeah, that was my plan.”

  “Garrett, you take the girlfriend,” Pérez called. “See if she knows anything about her lover's extracurricular activities.”

  “Okay with you?” Reid asked.

  Jonny gave a stiff nod. He was nervous, Reid could tell. This was a big case, certainly the biggest he’d ever led. “Yeah, go for it. I might be tied up with him for a while. Let me know if you find out anything useful.”

  “Sure thing.” He patted Jonny on the back. “You got this.”

  Reid went into interrogation room two. The girlfriend, now sweating but clutching herself like she was freezing cold, looked up. “What am I doing here?”

  “We’re going to have a little talk.” Reid sat down. “Do you want some water?”

  She nodded.

  He glanced to the officer at the door who disappeared to fetch it. Reid fiddled with the folder until the officer returned and handed the woman a bottle of mineral water. She opened it eagerly and drank.

  “Right, let’s start with your name.”

  “Monica.”

  “Do you have a second name, Monica?”

  “Cabello.”

  “And how do you know Stuart Halston?”

  Her gaze darted all over the room like she was afraid to look at any one thing for too long. “I met Stu at the local hardware store. I work there, at the register.”

  “You been together long?”

  “A couple of weeks.”

  “How old are you?”

  “What’s that got to do with anything? I’m legal, if that’s what you mean.” She pushed out her chest as if to make a point, but her eyes kept wandering. Sweat glistened on her forehead. Whatever she’d been on was wearing off.

  He really shouldn’t be interviewing her under the influence of drugs, but she was more vulnerable this way. Hyped up, nervous. And she wasn't so far gone that she didn’t know what she was talking about. He guessed a few lines of coke, nothing heavier.

  “How often do you see each other?” Reid asked.

  “I don’t see how that’s—”

  “Every day? Every night? Once a week?” he asked, cutting her off.

  “A couple times a week,” she said. “It’s pretty casual. What’s with all the questions? What did Stu do?”

  “What makes you think he did something?” Reid asked.

  “Because of what you said back at the house. That he was being arrested on suspicion of strangling those girls.”

  Reid studied her. She looked very frightened.

  “Do you think he’s capable of abducting and strangling three women?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Stu? No way. He’s a softie. That’s what I like about him. He’s kinda shy, you know. It took him ages to pluck up the courage to talk to me in the store. Not like his brother.”

  “His brother?” Reid’s head jerked up. “Stu has a brother?”

  “Yeah, Pete. He also comes into the store from time to time.”

  “Did he ever talk to you?” asked Reid.

  “Nah, didn’t even try. I was disappointed at first ‘cos he’s really good looking, but he’s not kind like Stu.”

  “What does Pete look like?” He opened the folder.

  “Handsome, like I said.”

  “Tall, short? Dark, blond?”

  “Tall and dark. Why are you asking about Pete now?” Her wandering eyes narrowed. “Do you think he murdered those girls?”

  “I don’t know. Would he be capable of something like that?”

  She thought about this for a moment. “Maybe. There’s something not quite right about him, you know. He’s smooth, that’s for sure, but I never felt like he really looked at me. Not like Stu does.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He kinda looks straight through me. It’s weird. I thought it was just because I’m not his type. He doesn't go for Latina girls.”

  “Who does he go for?” Reid’s voice was low.

  “Pretty white girls. Cheerleader types. The girls that dated the star quarterback in high school.” She rolled her eyes. “Those types of girls.”

  Bingo. She’d just described every one of the Strangler’s victims.

  Reid took a grainy photograph out of the folder. It was a still taken from the video footage in the parking garage. As he slid it across the table to her, he held his breath. “Is this him?”

  She looked down, squinted, bent in closer, then nodded. “Yeah, that’s Pete.”

  36

  They had him!

  Reid exhaled slowly. The tall, dark, handsome brother would have no problem flirting with girls in a bar and walking them back to their cars, then convincing them he’d give them a ride home himself. He’d spike their drinks. Help them into his car, then take them back to his lair where they were at his mercy.

  “Did Pete ever borrow Stu’s car?”

  “I don’t know. He could have, I guess. You’ll have to ask Stu.”

  But Reid was already out of his seat.

  “Watch her,” he barked to the officer at the door, then ran out of the room.

  He knocked on the door of interrogation room one. The conversation stopped, and Jonny opened it. “What’s up?”

  “Ask him about his brother,” hissed Reid. “And whether his brother ever borrowed his car.”

  “His brother?” Jonny frowned. “Didn’t even know he had one.”

  “The girlfriend identified the brother from the garage pictures,” he whispered.

  “Holy shit.” Jonny’s eyes were huge.

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, I’ll see if I can get an address.” Jonny slapped him on the shoulder and disappeared back into the room.

  Things moved fast after that. They assembled a tactical team, the task force geared up, and they headed out to Pete Halston’s house. He lived in the same neighborhood as his brother. Stu, being the eldest, had inherited the family home, but Pete, who was more successful, had bought his own and renovated it. According to Stu, it had been a real tumbledown place, but Pete had done a fantastic job restoring it.

  Reid couldn’t wait to see.

  He was betting there’d be a secret room or hidden basement where he kept the girls. His own personal torture chamber.

  The tactical team screeched to a halt outside the property and within a minute had smashed the door do
wn with a battering ram and entered.

  Reid waited outside with the rest of the task force for the all-clear. Tactical were in the house a full five minutes before they heard. “Clear.”

  “There’s no one here,” the commander said, as they approached the door.

  “Set up a perimeter around the house,” Reid instructed. He had a strong feeling about this one. The Strangler was here somewhere, and he was going to make a run for it as soon as the coast was clear.

  The commander didn’t question the order. “Yes, sir.”

  Jonny seemed content to let Reid take over. “You think he’s still here?” Jonny asked.

  “He renovated this place himself,” Reid said. “You can bet he knows every nook and cranny. Let’s do a full search, but stay alert. He could be anywhere, and he’ll be armed.”

  Jonny relayed the message to the rest of the team. Weapons drawn, they went inside. The tactical commander joined them along with two other members of the team, while the rest surrounded the property from the outside.

  “Look for hidden compartments, trap doors, fake dry walls, that sort of thing,” Reid said.

  “Surely he wouldn’t be stupid enough to bring them here?” Ryan whispered behind him.

  “If he thought he was safe, he might.” Most psychopaths were arrogant and overconfident. They didn’t feel danger, even though they were aware of it, so they thought they were invincible.

  The house was a typical single-story with a red tile roof. There was a patch of lawn out front with a couple of trees and a paved driveway. No car.

  They spread out to search. The commander and his two teammates took the bedrooms, while Jonny, Chris, and Jared took the living room and kitchen. Reid stood in the hallway and glanced around.

  “What are you looking for?” Ryan asked. She’d stayed with him.

  “Where would you put a trap door to a hidden room?” he inquired.

  She thought for a moment. “Kitchen, maybe? Or here in the hallway?”

  Reid walked up and down, testing the floor. It was terracotta, no way to put in a trap door. He walked through to the kitchen.

  “Anything?”

  Jonny shook his head. “Nope. You sure about this?”