He looked at Ernie, his face defeated. “You have to understand Eve. She could be very manipulative, and very persuasive. We have an understanding: I do what she wants, and she does … what I want. I figured she had been out late, maybe had too much to drink and wrecked her car, drove away from the scene, something like that. That actually happened one time a while back. I’ve learned over the years not to ask Eve too many questions.”
“And you were home a week ago Tuesday, overnight?” I made eye contact again, didn’t let him dodge me. “That’s the truth?”
Another hesitation. “Mr. Godwin,” I prodded him.
“She was out for a while and came home late, around two. She came to bed and … I didn’t ask questions.” For the first time, he seemed slightly embarrassed at this admission.
I glanced at Ernie and he gave me a look as if he wasn’t sure he believed Godwin. I wasn’t sure, either.
“Was she wearing a hoodie?” I asked.
“A what? When she comes to bed? No, of course not.”
“Do you own any guns?” I went on.
“We have some guns that belonged to Eve’s father. She was a gun person because of him.”
“What about a .22?”
“I don’t think so.” He shook his head. “This is just unbelievable.”
“Would you show us where you keep your guns?” Cotton asked him.
“Yes.”
He led us through the house to a basement door. We went downstairs to a small room with a gun safe. He tapped a keypad to open it, and let us inventory all the guns. “They’re all here,” he said.
“Nothing’s missing?” Cotton asked.
He double-checked. “All accounted for.”
There wasn’t a .22. Cotton nodded, and we all traipsed back upstairs.
“Mr. Godwin,” I said. “Do you know a reason why your wife would want to kill this woman, and possibly others?”
“I don’t know,” he snapped. “This is preposterous.” He ran a hand over his face, then pointed toward the hall stairs. “What’s going to happen next? Can I see my wife?”
Cotton glanced at me, and I signaled I was through with my questions.
She stepped forward and touched Godwin’s arm. “I’d like you to come down to the station for a more formal interview,” she said. “Would you be willing to do that?”
“I … uh … yes.” His face twisted in confusion, the shock setting in. “I just don’t understand.”
She walked with him toward another detective, who then drove off with Godwin. Then she joined us again, and we went back into the house.
“I guess that wraps things up,” Oakley said.
“I don’t know.” I was sitting at my desk, twirling a pen in my fingers. “We worked with the Cherry Hills detectives and searched through the rest of the house, and didn’t find any evidence that Eve Godwin murdered Jonathan Hall.”
“But her husband said she’d been out the night he was killed,” Spats said. He was sitting at his desk, working on a report.
I thought about that. “I don’t know. I’d like to have it solid. Just because she was out …” I left the rest unsaid.
“I don’t know that we’ll get that,” Ernie said. “He says she came home late, and he was in bed. She could’ve been out, drowned Jonathan Hall, and then came home. He would never have been the wiser.”
I looked at them all. “What about the homeless guy who said he was certain Hall’s killer was a man?”
Oakley shrugged. “He could have been wrong.”
I pondered that, and didn’t like the conclusions I came up with. “Do you see Eve Godwin as a serial killer?”
“I’ll admit, female serial killers are rare,” he went on.
“Yeah, but killing Hall? Drowning him would be hard for her, wouldn’t it?”
“I don’t know.”
“How did Eve go about killing the prostitute?” Oakley asked.
“We don’t know for sure,” Ernie said. “She must’ve gotten a gun from somewhere, borrowed Hackenberg’s car, went to the motel, and picked up Nicole.”
“Then took her somewhere, shot her, and dumped her back in the parking lot, like we’ve suspected,” I said.
“And she gets rid of everything she wore, and the gun, somewhere, returns Hackenberg’s car, and sneaks back into her house,” Ernie finished.
I snapped my fingers. “We still need to get Hackenberg’s surveillance video. That might clear up part of this. And we need to search his car.”
“I’m working with the Cherry Hills detectives. They’re getting a warrant for the Godwins’ electronics,” Ernie said. “I think they’ll share the data with us. Then we can see what Eve had on her computer, and if that leads us to anything. Maybe she has a diary somewhere, something that might tell us what she was thinking.”
“We’ll also follow up with other family and friends,” Spats said. “Maybe she talked to friends, gave them hints as to what she was doing.”
“You’re probably right.” I yawned and stretched. “It’s seven o’clock already? I never even had lunch.”
“It’s been a long thirty-six hours,” Spats said.
I nodded. “Oh, when you looked at surveillance video from places around the Princeton Motel the night Nicole Lockwood was murdered, did you notice a white Hyundai parked in front, or somewhere nearby?”
“No. I could see if I could look at the videos again,” he said.
“No, it’s probably a moot point.” I smiled wanly at both of them. “Everybody go home and get a good night’s sleep, and we’ll pick this up tomorrow.”
Ernie heaved himself out of his chair. “That sounds good to me.”
Spats and Oakley agreed. They left, and I sat at my desk for a minute, bothered about the investigation. Things didn’t add up for me. I couldn’t see Eve Godwin as a multiple murderer. Then I shook my head. For the moment, I needed to let that go. I needed rest, and I wanted Harry.
When I walked through the door, Harry was in the kitchen, preparing pasta and a salad. I had called him on the way home to tell him what had happened, and he said he’d fixed dinner for us.
“Hey, honey.” He gave me a kiss. “Let me get you some wine.” As he poured me a glass, he said, “Tell me all about it.”
One of the things I love about Harry is that he listens to me talk about my investigations. He seems to know that it helps me figure things out. He handed me the glass. I took a sip and began, then helped him finish the dinner.
“It’s crazy how fast this all happened,” he said when I’d told him everything. “Do you have a motive for why this woman killed the prostitute?”
I shook my head. “No, that keeps bothering me.”
He drained the pasta, put it in a bowl, and went to the table. Then he frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Everyone thinks this woman killed the homeless man, too. I don’t know about that. I feel like we’ve missed something.”
He studied me. “What else?”
I sat down, sipped wine, and chose my words carefully. “When I was going through the house, looking for Mrs. Godwin, I kept having flashes back to the night with Diane.” I paused. “I mean, I know that this woman is a murderer, and she did herself in, but it’s … still hard to explain, I still have a feeling like I should’ve been there to stop her. I couldn’t save her.”
He reached across the table and took my hand. “The difference is, you couldn’t save her from herself. You did everything you could, just like Ernie said. You know that, right?” He searched my eyes. “Okay?”
I squeezed his hand. “You’re probably right.”
“No, I’m not probably right. In this case, I am definitely right. Come on, let’s get something to eat.” He sat down. “I know your brain will still be thinking it over, but try to let it go for a bit, okay? You’ve been going for almost two days straight. After we eat, we can watch something mindless on TV. That shouldn’t be too hard to find, right?”
I looked up at him and smi
led. “What would I do without you?”
“Wilt away like a water-starved flower and die.”
I burst out laughing. “You think so?”
He grinned, then served himself some salad. He pushed the bowl across to me. “I do.”
We chatted about other things while we ate, and when we finished, we watched some sitcoms. I kept thinking about Eve Godwin and the homeless man on the Platte. The TV show ended and Harry put his hand on my leg. Then he leaned over and kissed me, long and lingering. His lips made their way down my neck.
“Let’s go to the bed,” he murmured.
His hand worked its way under my shirt.
“Yes,” I said suddenly feeling more energetic than I had only a few minutes ago.
We stood up, and barely made it into the bedroom.
Chapter Thirty-Four
I was at my desk the next morning, writing up a report on Eve Godwin’s suicide, when my desk phone rang.
“Spillman,” I barked into the phone.
“This is Rick Yamamoto,” the even voice said. “Aurora Homicide. I got your email about any unsolved investigations with cheap jewelry as an MO.”
My ears perked up. “You have a case like that?”
“I didn’t, but I thought you’d want to know we have a sixteen-year-old victim, Olivia Childress, found early this morning in a park by a guy walking his dog. The dog sniffed out the body under a bridge. The vic had on a bracelet, and it’s costume jewelry, with a fake red stone. The family didn’t recognize it.”
I swore as I jotted down notes. “That fits what I have. How’d she die?”
“Strangulation. I don’t think she was sexually assaulted, but we won’t know for sure until the autopsy is performed.”
“When was she killed?”
“The coroner thinks sometime after dark last night. But we won’t know for sure until we get the autopsy results.”
My jaw clenched. “Wait a minute. That would mean my killer couldn’t have strangled your victim.”
“I don’t see how.”
“You’re sure on the timeframe? No way the body was there longer than that?”
“Pretty sure.” He grunted. “We’ve been at it all night. No witnesses so far. She was at a friend’s house and was walking home. Her mom works, doesn’t pay a lot of attention to her, and figured she’d spent the night at her friend’s house. Didn’t know anything until we showed up to deliver the news.”
“That’s rough.”
“Yes. I can let you know what we come up with.”
“If it’s okay, I’ll send someone there. I’d like to get as much information on this as I can.” I gave him the details about my investigation. “Now that my suspect is dead, I’m not sure what we’re up against.”
His sigh was audible. “I hear that. And we’ll share everything we have.”
The dial tone sounded loud in my ear. I hung up the phone. Ernie was staring at me.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“We have another victim.”
“Huh?” Spats looked up.
“Where’s Oakley?” I got up and went into the other room. He was at his desk, and I motioned him over. I told them about my phone call with Yamamoto, then got Rizzo from his office.
He looked at all our grim faces. “What’s going on?”
We all exchanged glances, and I spoke up. “We have a problem. A sixteen-year-old girl was strangled last night. A plastic bracelet with a red stone was found on her body.”
Rizzo’s brow pinched as he processed the information. “And that’s the same kind of jewelry that was found on the other two victims?”
“That’s right,” Spats said.
I took over the conversation, glanced at my notes, and told Rizzo everything. “The coroner thinks she was killed last night, and he doesn’t think she was sexually assaulted.” I thought fast. “We need to track Eve Godwin’s activities yesterday, find out what she did, and if she was out killing that teenager, Olivia Childress. Although I doubt that’s the case.”
Rizzo thought for a minute. “What about her husband? Could he be in on the killings?”
“I’ll see what Cherry Hills knows,” Spats said. “They might be keeping tabs on him.”
Rizzo stared at me. “What do you think? Is her husband involved?”
I considered that. “I doubt it. But I’m still shaking my head that she was involved. She came from a good family back East, she went to Smith College. She had money, was a country club member.”
“Maybe she was bored,” Ernie said.
“Do you think she killed Jonathan Hall?” Rizzo asked. “What’s the evidence say?”
We exchanged glances again.
“I wondered that, but I tend to doubt it now,” Oakley said.
“We don’t have concrete evidence that she killed the prostitute yet, correct?” Rizzo went on.
I shook my head. “No. I was able to get the Cherry Hills department to share the data they got from the Godwins’ electronics. We have our people analyzing it now. With that, we might find something to definitely tie Eve Godwin to Nicole’s murder.”
Rizzo mulled that over, then looked at Ernie. “What about the cop?”
“Arnold Culbertson?” Ernie said. “His wife is his alibi for the first two murders. I’ll see what he was doing last night, and if he has an alibi.”
Rizzo turned to Oakley. “What about the knife found at your crime scene?”
“It took a little time, but I’ve got a warrant for the hunting shop.”
“Good work,” I said. “I’d like to go with you when you talk to Palmer.”
“The man who makes those knives?” Ernie asked.
I nodded.
“That’s a good idea,” Rizzo said. “You can see what his reaction is now that he has to give you information on the knives.” He looked around the room at all of us. “Keep me posted.”
“Let me check on the Godwins’ electronics, and then we can go to the gun shop,” I said to Oakley.
“That’ll work,” he replied. “I’ve got a little paperwork to do on the warrant anyway.”
Spats picked up his phone. “I’ll talk to the Cherry Hills department about Eve’s husband, to see what more we can find out about Eve Godwin’s family and friends. You’d think someone would know what she was up to.”
“If they got any DNA from Hall, see if it matches with Eve Godwin,” I said.
“I’m on it,” he said.
I looked at Ernie. “Ernie, connect with Yamamoto, get everything you can about his crime scene. I want all the details.”
He pushed himself out of his chair. “I’m on it.”
“Give me a few minutes,” I said to Oakley.
Tara Dahl, one of the department’s best IT investigators, was sitting at her desk, earbuds in, oblivious to anything around her. She’s a technical wizard, and I knew if there was something on the Godwins’ electronics that might definitely tie Eve Godwin to Nicole Lockwood’s murder, Tara would find it.
I tapped her shoulder. “Hello,” I said loudly.
She jumped and took out the earbuds. “Don’t say anything about the music, Mom.”
“You know I don’t like those metal bands.” I grinned. “Are you staying out of trouble?”
“But those bands are the best.” She returned a smile. “What’s up?”
“Are you staying out of trouble?” I repeated.
She grabbed a cup of coffee and pushed back from her chair. “Never. You’d have to ground me before I stopped.”
I leaned a hip against her desk. “Did you get the electronics data for Eve Godwin?”
“Yeah, I’ve been going through it since last night. What’s the hurry on this? I heard this woman committed suicide.”
“Things just got more interesting.” I told her about the murder investigations Oakley and I were working on. “We’ve just learned about another murder that happened earlier this morning with a similar MO, a bracelet with a red stone discovered on the victi
m’s body.”
She sipped coffee. “Hmm. Eve Godwin couldn’t have done that one, could she? You think Godwin’s husband is in on it?” Tara asked.
“That’s a good question, but I doubt it. Spats is checking on that.” I shrugged. “We’re waiting on the teenager’s autopsy results so we can get a better idea of time of death.”
“If Godwin didn’t murder her, and you don’t think her husband was in on it …” She didn’t finish.
I didn’t want to say anything, either. It appeared we had another killer on the loose.
“Another killer, but with the same MO?” she asked. “What’s going on?”
I sighed, then pointed at her computer. “Tell me what you got on the Godwins’ electronics.”
She put her cup down. “I’m glad I got on this right away.” She pulled her chair forward and started typing. “I’ve gone through a lot of her internet history. She was one interesting woman.”
“How so?”
“She had a fascination with killing and serial killers. Tons and tons of research on them. She looked at Bundy, John Wayne Gacy, the Green River Killer.”
“Looking at how they committed the crimes and how they got caught, the mistakes they made?” I asked. “I had to speak at a community meeting the other evening, and she was there. She even talked to me, asked me as much as she could about murder investigations. Pretty bold to talk to the police like that.”
“Typical serial-killer arrogance. They think they’re never going to get caught.”
I sighed. “Yes, but they usually slip up.”
Tara went on. “Her search history shows she was researching what would be the best method to kill a person, what poisons would kill a person, and …”
I interrupted her. “What poisons would kill a person?”
She nodded. “Yeah. She’d found all kinds of exotic poisons. Looks like she wanted to know how fast the poisons would kill.”
I looked at the monitor. “What about cyanide?”
“Yeah, that shows up as well.”
“She killed herself with cyanide. What about a .22? Any research on that?”
“Nothing specifically.” She pulled up another screen. “She did a lot of research on forensics and crime-scene evidence. It sure seems obvious, based on what you’ve told me, that she was trying to make sure she didn’t slip up in any way.”
Deadly Guild (Detective Sarah Spillman Mystery Series Book 3) Page 19
