The River's Secret

by Peggy Dulle

  “The park’s only a few blocks away and I hate treadmills.”

  I shrugged. Thankfully the streets were well lit. Within a few minutes we entered Riverbend Park. It was a large park with three paths, one set up for just for jogging or running, another with stations for exercising, and a third for bicyclists. The entire park was lit up with huge banks of lights. It reminded me of a night football game I had been to several years ago.

  We ran the first mile in complete silence, which was unusual because Sheryl was a talker. Riverbend’s citizens must be exercise enthusiasts because the park was filled with people, even at this early hour.

  Then Sheryl slowed up. “Let's walk a bit.”

  “Sure.” I fell in step beside her. This was quite unusual since Sheryl never walks after running only a mile. After we had walked for ten minutes, I asked, “What's up, Sheryl?”

  Sheryl slowed even more and moved toward a bench on the path. She sat down and said, “Will you sit with me for a few minutes?” There was an urgency in her voice that caught me off guard.

  “Of course.” I sat down next to her, hoping my voice didn't sound as uneasy as I felt.

  She frowned at me. “Are you okay?”

  “Sure,” I replied, grateful that concern for me, rather than something else, had her so tense.

  Sheryl put her hand on my arm. “You didn't seem okay last night.”

  “It was just the car ride.”

  “Was it too many people in a confined space?”

  “Yes and I didn't know the two men.”

  She shook her head. “I didn't realize you still had the attacks.”

  “Usually, I don't. In fact it's been a long time since I've had one as bad as last night.”

  “Are you sure you're up to this investigation?”

  “Probably not, but I don't really have a choice, do I?”

  “Sure you do, Connie. You can go back home if you want to,” she said with assurance, as she pushed a strand of her hair back behind her ear.

  “And let the Jackal win? No.”

  “Can you tell me what you need to keep from having another attack?”

  “No small confined places with strange men.” I smiled and shrugged.

  “How long before Ed and Jake aren't strangers?”

  “It takes a while.”

  “Okay.” She took a deep breath and put her hand on my leg. “I need to tell you something.”

  “What?” I asked and felt a sudden thud in my stomach.

  “I wanted you to hear this from me.” Sheryl turned her body so she faced me. The lines in her face deepened, and she looked uneasy.

  “Okay.” I swallowed past the dryness in my throat as the rock in my stomach started to work its way up my esophagus.

  “I've been dating Matthew for the last few months.”

  My stomach tightened, not in panic, but it stung just the same. “It's none of my business, Sheryl. Matthew and I are divorced.”

  “I know. But I wanted you to hear it from me, not from the rumor mill.”

  I stood. “It's fine, Sheryl. I wish you the best of luck. Matthew's a great guy.”

  She smiled. “I think so.”

  We finished our run. Sheryl talked the entire way, updating me on other cases she had worked and all the latest rumors. When we got back to the hotel, I stood under the shower for a long time. Tears flowed down my cheeks. I knew Matthew and I had no chance of ever being together again, but a small part of me wished things could go back to where they were before the Jackal case. I dried my tears along with the shower water.

  As police chief, I usually wore a uniform, with my gun visible on my belt, but this morning I dressed in a pair of black slacks with a white blouse and placed my gun in a shoulder holster. I put on a black jacket to keep warm and conceal the weapon. It felt too familiar.

  A few minutes before seven, I walked downstairs. The team sat together at a corner table. John looked up and waved me over.

  I joined them and ordered breakfast. The conversation was light and I learned more about Jake, the newest team member. This morning, he had chosen a gray suit that only looked slept in for a couple of days. He was forty-nine, divorced twice, and on the prowl for wife number three. But he had a wonderful smile, which very rarely left his face. When the waitress almost spilled orange juice on him, he laughed and told her it would give him an excuse to send his suit to the cleaners.

  Within an hour, we piled back into the sedan and drove toward the Riverbend police station. This time I took the window seat and cracked the window a few inches. Several times Sheryl glanced at me to check on the level of my anxiety. I smiled to reassure her and concentrated on the scenery of housing developments and not on the small confined space inhabited by an unknown man. Several times I felt my stomach start to tighten, but I took slow, controlled breaths and easily pushed the attack away. Was I finally strong enough to be in charge of my own body? Could I manage a confrontation with the Jackal, too?

  Chapter 13

  A few minutes later we pulled into a visitor's parking slot near the front of the Riverbend Police Station. The men led the way and Sheryl and I walked behind.

  “Are you doing okay?” Sheryl whispered.

  I smiled and nodded. And surprisingly, I was fine. The ride hadn't set off a full-scale anxiety attack and it should have. I was definitely in better control.

  Sheryl pointed, “There's Ed.”

  Ed paced in front of the station door, scowled and checked his watch every few seconds. A time keeper? That fit perfectly with his tightly-wound persona.

  “He doesn't look happy,” I told Sheryl. “Are we late?”

  She laughed. “No, he's got an aggravating habit of checking his watch. I don't think he's actually looking at it. And that grimace could be his smile; it's the only expression I've seen on his face since I met him yesterday.”

  As we reached the door, Ed nodded. “Let's go. My chief's assigned a conference room for your team to work out of.”

  If Ed would be working with us, I needed to become comfortable with him, so I stepped up and walked next to him as we wandered down the hallways in the station.

  I smiled at him, trying to break the ice. “So, did you run over your chief's foot with your squad car?”

  Ed raised his perfectly formed eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

  “You must have done something to get this choice assignment.”

  His sneer turned to a small smile. “I was involved in a car chase.”

  “Did you catch the guy?”

  He laughed. “No, but I took out five parked cars, two fire hydrants, and landed the squad car into the side of a 7-ll store.”

  I whistled. “Very impressive.”

  “I thought so.” His smile broadened.

  The conference room was small, barely ten by ten, and one entire wall was stacked with file boxes.

  Sheryl rolled her eyes. “Is this a conference room or a supply closet?”

  Ed shrugged. “It's where they said we'd be working.”

  “I'll take care of it.” John strode out of the room.

  Jake went in search of a soda machine and Sheryl for a computer. Ed and I sat down at the round table that took up most of the space. I grabbed one of the boxes off the wall.

  “These are the latest victims of the Jackal. We may as well get started.” I handed him one of the files.

  “How many total victims?” Ed asked.

  “That we know of, nineteen.”

  “And you've never gotten close to catching him?”

  I shook my head. It was the truth. So far, the Jackal had won every time.

  “What's his M.O.?” Ed asked.

  I pushed all emotions related to my own abduction from my mind. Do the job, Connie! “In the past, he would disable a woman's car and show up as she surveyed the problem. Then he'd stun her with a taser, fix her car, rape her, then slice the women's torso from stomach to neck and bury her alive in a shallow muddy grave.”

  “How long betwee
n the time the women were taken and their bodies were found?”

  “In the beginning - years.”

  “What?”

  “Truth be told, we have no idea how many women he's taken or from what cities. We found a dump site first. In fact, we found two of them before we started to look for a killer, one in Mississippi and the other in Oregon. Each gravesite had five women buried in them. Then we got an alert when a third woman was taken in Texas. We went to look for the dump site and hoped to catch him burying a victim.”

  “Did you find it?”

  A flash of my muddy grave flashed through my mind. I pushed it aside. “Not exactly. The fourth woman was taken the day we arrived in Texas. I was the fifth.”

  Ed's eyes widened. “You?”

  “Yeah, I screwed the bastard's record - I survived!”

  “What trophies does he take?”

  “As far as we know, or can figure out, he doesn't take any.”

  Ed frowned. “Don't they always take something to remind them of the kill?”

  “A serial killer usually does, but not the Jackal. And recently he has changed his M.O. Now, he just kidnaps a woman, kills her, and dumps her body on the side of some road.”

  “Why? That doesn't make any sense.” Ed's eyebrows furrowed as he shook his head.

  “Well,” I smoothed my hair behind my ears. “Now, he cuts and dyes their hair blonde to match mine and has a new fascination with sending me notes.”

  “So you were one of his victims and now - you're bait? That's kind of rude.”

  I shrugged. “Unfortunately, it's necessary if we want to catch him.”

  Just then John came back. “Let's go, we're moving to a bigger room.”

  “Ah, a Fed with power.” Ed pretended to shudder.

  As we walked back down the hall, my cell phone rang. John put his hand on my arm.

  “We haven't set up the trace yet, so keep him talking as long as you can. I'll get it started.” John opened his own cell phone, moved down the hall away from me, and started barking orders.

  I sighed and opened my phone. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Connie,” said the metallic voice. “Is the team all assembled?”

  “We're all here.”

  “Okay. Then I'm giving you a heads up. There's a woman, she looks like you. Well.” He laughed. “She will.”

  “Who is she?”

  “Just a woman.”

  “That's not going to help.”

  “I don't want to make this too easy.”

  “Give me a hint.”

  “Okay, her name is Jane and she works in a store.”

  “Do you know how many stores are in Riverbend!” I yelled.

  Ed put his hand on my arm and mouthed, “Easy.”

  “I need more,” I told the Jackal.

  “That's it for now. I've got to go. Find her, save her, Connie.” He hung up.

  John came back toward me. “Not enough time to trace the call.”

  I let him know what the Jackal had said.

  John shook his head. “How many Janes do you think work in stores in Riverbend?”

  “I don't know,” Ed interrupted. “But I'm going to the chief and get more men to work on it.” He ran off.

  “Guess we made a believer out of him,” I said as I followed John to our new conference room, which was four times the size of the other. Jake sat at a large oval table in the center of the room.

  Against one wall, a table held three computers, against another was a table with three phones, and large white boards covered the third wall. Sheryl sat at one computer, pounding away on the keyboard. John and I walked over to her.

  I told her about the call and Jane.

  “What's the quickest way to find her, Sheryl?” John asked.

  “I can check tax employment records for the stores and get their employees' names. But some employers would rather pay cash under the table than claim an employee, so if they're doing that, we won't be able to find her.”

  “Well, let's start with the employment records,” John decided.

  While she searched, the team familiarized themselves with the files on the other victims. We still hoped to find something that connected all the victims. That could make it easier to find the next one before the Jackal could kill her. Ed joined us a few minutes later, saying that until we had a dead body, we wouldn't get any more officers to help in the investigation.

  An hour later, Sheryl held up a piece of paper. “I'm going through work records for everyone in the city. Thank God Jane doesn't seem to be a common name for the citizens of Riverbend. So far I've only found two, but I'm only a quarter of the way through,” she said.

  “Give us the names. We'll split up and get them into protective custody,” John said.

  Sheryl handed us each a piece of paper. “Here's their work and home addresses. And copies of their driver's licenses. I'll call when I have more.”

  John and Ed took Jane Weston. She worked at a local grocery store. Jake and I took Jane Geyser. From the DMV photo, I could tell that our body types were very similar. The only difference between us was that her hair was long and mine was short. It wouldn't take the Jackal long to make her into me. Jane worked at a greeting card store a few blocks from the station.

  Rather than getting the car, Jake and I walked the three blocks to Jane's work. The card shop was in a strip mall, nestled between a Chinese restaurant and a nail shop. The front window contained several collectibles and boasted the “best prices in town for candles and burning oils.” The place was empty except for a young man dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt who sat behind the counter. He wore earplugs and his head rocked back and forth to the music on his iPod on the glass counter.

  I walked up and showed my badge.

  His eyes widened as he yanked out the earplugs.

  “Is Jane Geyser here?”

  He shook his head. “She doesn't work today. It's her day off.”

  I didn't want to waste any time, so I asked. “If I were to go to her house, would she be there?”

  “No, she's always at Carl's apartment if she doesn't have to work.”

  “Who's Carl?”

  “Carl Burton, her boyfriend.”

  “Do you know his address?”

  “Sure. He lives in the apartment next to mine.”

  With the address in hand, Jake and I hurried back to the station to get a car. It took thirty minutes to fill out the paperwork and get a car issued to us. We finally got into a beat-up old patrol car.

  “This is the best they have to offer?” Jake commented as the engine barely turned over. “When we get back, we'll get John to issue us another car.”

  “Good idea,” I replied. “Especially if we'll need to drive all over town looking for women named Jane.”

  Carl lived on the other side of town in the bottom floor of a four-story building. Apartment 10A. Jake and I entered and started down the narrow hallway. Jake nudged me and we stopped when we saw Carl's door slightly ajar.

  Chapter 14

  We crept down the hall. I pointed to him and then to the ceiling, indicating he should go in high, I would go low. We went through the door together. The apartment looked undisturbed, a small living room with oddly matched thrift store furniture and a small kitchen in one corner. Jake went around the couch and we headed down the hallway.

  The first door was closed. Jake grabbed the handle and turned it in one motion, and both of us rushed in. It was empty. It was also immaculate, with a queen-size bed, light blue comforter, and solid-looking oak furniture.

  Jake raised his eyebrows and whispered, “This is nice.”

  “Probably the guestroom,” I whispered, then motioned to the door. “Let's check the rest of the apartment.”

  The next room was a bathroom. Jake opened the door and quickly checked the room. Clear. He shook his head and we continued down the hall to the last door. We rushed in.

  It was the opposite of the guestroom. Clothes were strewn everywhere on the floor and
over the ultra-modern black furniture. A king-size bed dominated, with black satin sheets and a leopard comforter.

  “Okay, I feel silly,” Jake muttered.

  “It's better than walking into a room with two dead bodies.” I patted his arm.

  “I suppose.”

  We walked back to the living room just as a wiry young man carrying a small black garbage can came through the front door. He stepped back and scowled.

  “What the hell are you doing in my apartment?”

  I showed him my badge. “We're looking for Jane Geyser.”

  “She doesn't live here.”

  “We know that. You're her boyfriend, right?”

  “After last night, maybe not.” He harrumphed in disgust.

  “Why, what happened?” Jake asked, his voice soothing to clearly show interest in the boy's relationship with his girl.

  Carl shook his head and frowned. “Man, we got in a huge fight and she stormed out.”

  “What was the fight about?” Jake put his hand on Carl's shoulder, nodded and encouraged him.

  “We were at a bar and some guy hit on her. And she let him.”

  “What did the guy look like?” I jumped in, my voice stern. The Jackal had to meet his victims someplace.

  He shrugged and growled. “I don't know. Just a guy.”

  Jake frowned at me, then turned back to Carl. “It's okay. What was the name of the bar?”

  “Charlie O'Rourke's Bar and Grill. It's on Drew Street.”

  “Have you talked to Jane today?” Jake asked.

  “No. I called her, but she won't pick up the phone.” He shrugged again. “Guess she's still mad at me.”

  “If we went over there right now, would she be home?” I asked, interrupting the male bonding between Carl and Jake.

  Carl looked at his watch. “Yeah. She probably got up this morning with a bit of a hangover. So she'd go run and then take a nap.”

  “Thanks, Carl,” Jake said, patting him on the shoulder again.

  I nodded toward the door. “Let's go, Jake.”

  When we got back into the car, Jake said, “Where'd you learn your interrogation skills?”

  “Quantico.”

  “Didn't they teach you that you can get more cooperation with honey than with attitude?”