“Let’s see if Dwight or Evans have found anything, unless you want to go make use of the locker room.” Dean gave Chaz a once over, realizing the sheriff had probably spent the night here. “No offense, Chaz, but you look like shit. I’m afraid to get too close to you in case you smell like it, too. A couple hours of sleep would do you some good.”
“It was pointless to go home last night,” Chaz replied with a yawn, leading the way across the bullpen. “The back roads were all but impassable by the time I finished with the interviews. By this afternoon, half of this shit will be melted and the temperatures will be back up into the high forties or low fifties.”
Neither one of them mentioned aloud that the warmer temperatures could give the unsub the opportunity to get out and engage another victim. There was something to be said for having poor road conditions.
“Listen,” Dean said, stopping Chaz before he could enter the conference room. “I know it seems that the social media angle didn’t pan out, but Kenna mentioned something last night that got me thinking about websites. She has a new client, some new bar owner downtown. The three other widows on my list worked for other people, but it might be worth looking into if they have some type of website not associated with their job. The first woman I interviewed yesterday was June Marshall. She’s into photography, so maybe she set up one of those free websites. I’ll call her back this morning with some follow-up questions.”
“Now that you mention it, Brenda Reinhardt revealed that she was selling wreaths on something called an Etsy site. She showed me the website, and she has fantastic ratings. Not a negative one in the bunch, but you could be onto something. Dwight has IT experience, so we can ask him to dig a little deeper.” Chaz paused to take a drink of his coffee, though Dean thought he needed more than caffeine to make it through the day. What he didn’t expect was for Chaz to catch onto something so innocuous. “Kenna? I’ve been working with you for three weeks, and never once in that timespan have you referred to anyone by their first name.”
Apparently, Dean was mistaken about just how exhausted Chaz was this morning. Working with him these last few weeks had forged somewhat of a friendship, but Dean wasn’t about to go down that rabbit hole with cracks about his personal life. Frank had been driving to Winter Heights about three days a week, sometimes even staying with his sister when the days and nights had gotten away from them.
“Don’t make me agree with Archer about cutting you out of the investigation, Chaz. Not when I was just beginning to like you,” Dean muttered in warning, opening the door to the conference room while ignoring the bark of laughter coming from Chaz. “Good morning, gentlemen. Please tell me that there is someone interesting on that list that Chen gave you first thing this morning.”
“Possibly three,” Grant Evans replied, nudging three manila folders across the table without looking up from the screen of his laptop. He seemed to have embraced civilian life a bit better than Hudson Dwight, even growing his hair out a bit so that the wave of his cowlick appeared more natural. “But they aren’t nearly as interesting as this one—Benjamin Henry.”
Dean tossed his dress coat over the back of one of the conference chairs, his focus directly on the large monitor that had been positioned on a table in the back of the room. Frank had driven it over once Dean had concluded that this investigation justified their involvement. They couldn’t have asked for a better set-up between the laptops, large monitor, tablets, and a color laser printer.
“Henry is Caucasian, thirty-three years old, and lives with his widowed mother on the east side in the two-story house he was born in,” Dwight said, following up Dean’s question. Unlike Evans, Dwight still had that edge that came in handy during investigations like these. He would have made one hell of a Fed, and Dean planned on having a side conversation with the deputy at the end of this case. “You’ll be interested to know that Benjamin Henry has been arrested on two separate occasions for trespassing.”
“Who was the arresting officer?” Chaz asked, lowering his large frame into one of the mesh chairs on the opposite side of his deputies. “I’m guessing Benjamin Henry was a peeping tom, but the deputies didn’t have enough evidence to charge him with anything more than simple trespass.”
“Deputy Denney made the first arrest, and the former sheriff was the one who executed the second arrest eight years ago,” Evans divulged, sharing a look with Dwight that told Dean there was more to their findings than just two arrests. He took a drink of his coffee while he waited for the hammer. “There wasn’t enough proof in either case for there to be a stalking charge, and Henry never crossed any lines that could be considered harassment.”
“While Evans was looking into the arrests, I did a little digging into the identity of the victims,” Dwight shared, the tension in his tone unmistakable. Whatever he’d found was the reason they’d cherry-picked Benjamin Henry as the first real lead in this case. Dean had already figured it out, but he wouldn’t deprive Dwight from being the one to make the announcement. “The two complainants were both widows at the time of Henry’s two arrests.”
“Great work, gentlemen.” Dean drained what he could of his coffee before turning his attention toward the sheriff, who wouldn’t be getting any sleep in his immediate future. “Let’s go pay Benjamin Henry a little visit, shall we? We’ll see what shakes loose.”
Chapter Nine
“I still can’t believe that we didn’t know about those women,” Jenn said with a shake of her head as she tucked her credit card into her wallet. “You know, you can always come and stay with me and Craig for a while. He is nothing if not security conscious, especially since he works such odd shifts at the hospital. Look at all those cameras he had installed around our property. And that wasn’t the half of it. We have a cellular-based security system on top of that, with all kinds of sensors and an emergency power generator as backup. I even get pop-up notifications on my phone when the UPS guy delivers my packages. To tell you the truth, it gets a bit annoying at times.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I’m not leaving my home just because of some existential threat they don’t have enough information to nail down. If I thought for one minute that I was the actual target of this monster, I would take Agent Malone’s advice.”
Kenna wasn’t being foolishly stubborn. She’d thought a lot about what Dean had told her about the case, as well as realistically going over her options. Having grown up in the household of a police officer, she was well prepared for any type of situation. She kept a loaded firearm in a fingerprint safe next to her bed, as well as having had several self-defense courses throughout her life. She wasn’t naïve enough to believe that kind of preparation could guarantee her safety, but it did give her an edge that others didn’t have in those types of high-risk situations.
It did help that she had friends to talk to under these types of circumstances. Jenn and Craig had been friends of hers and Justin’s for many years, and that friendship hadn’t weakened a bit after his death. The couple had been a rock for Kenna during that tragic time, and she found their friendship had only strengthened as a consequence.
Kenna and Jenn had made a promise to one another to have a weekly lunch long ago, especially since Jenn was now a mother of a beautiful one-year old girl named Brie. Craig’s mother came by the house at least once a week to watch Brie so that Jenn could run her errands and have a few hours without the baby. It had been a staple of their routine this past year to meet at various venues.
“I have a call into a local security firm,” Kenna shared, taking her phone off the table to put into her oversized purse. She’d purchased the soft leather bag instead of a briefcase due to the chic look of the design. Plus, it held everything she needed for offsite meetings, such as the one she had scheduled at two o’clock this afternoon. “I’m going to have them install an alarm system with a few extra bells and whistles in the upcoming days. I want one of those doorbell cameras like you have, too.”
The café where Kenna usually m
et Jenn for lunch was quite busy today. She chalked it up to the early holiday shopping season, though she was usually always late to the party. It wasn’t that she was last-minute on everything, but she did like to wait until after Thanksgiving before putting a significant dent in her checking account. Now that she was getting an alarm system, she was grateful she’d been a bit frugal on expenses lately.
Low murmurs of conversation carried through the café as everyone enjoyed their lunch. Kenna had taken Dean’s advice and was keeping an eye on her surroundings. She hadn’t noticed anything unusual, but this constant vigil was wreaking havoc on her nerves. She’d made sure to look at every person in the café, including those who had just come and gone after getting their drink order.
“Now that we have one, I see them in commercials all the time,” Jenn said, shoving her wallet into her purse in exchange for her gloves and keys. They’d already put their coats back on while waiting for the check. “We enjoy ours for the most part. I might even have Craig upgrade ours to the pro model. I’m always getting deliveries at the house for one thing or another. With the increase in porch pirates these days, we need to protect ourselves. I’m able to monitor who is ringing the doorbell without having to worry about Brie. It’s amazing.”
Kenna hoisted the straps of her purse over her shoulder as they both stood from the table. A busboy was waiting in the wings to clear their plates.
“So back to this federal agent,” Jenn said as they began to weave through the tables in their effort to reach the front door. “How old did you say he was?”
“Don’t even go there,” Kenna warned, thinking back to last night. Dean had been nothing but professional, and not once had he crossed that line. “Agent Malone was simply doing his job, and he just happened to get stuck with me last night after my tree fell.”
“Hey, you were the one who said you might be up for going on a date a week ago.” Jenn made it to the door first, having already pulled her gloves on while they had paused in the entryway. She adjusted her scarf as she gave Kenna a pointed stare. “When a man magically lands on your doorstep, who are you to argue with the Fates?”
“Spoken like a true English major,” Kenna laughed, following Jenn out into the cold. The gusts of winds had died down, so the icy grip of winter wasn’t as bad as it had been yesterday. “I have a meeting with a new client, the pub owner down the street, so I’ll say goodbye here.”
Jenn was taller than Kenna by four inches, so she lifted up on the tips of her boots to hug her friend. They didn’t waste time, especially since Jenn was running a little bit behind on her errands. Kenna promised to give her a call after the alarm company came to install the system in the next few days. After their goodbyes, she began walking the short distance to the pub, which was located two blocks down on the right.
It was then that she noticed a man wearing a black jacket walking horizontal from her on the other side of the street. He wasn’t looking her way, but there was something off about him that caught her attention. When she stopped at the first crosswalk, he did the same. Not once did he turn his head, but instead remained focus on the distance in front of him.
The green pixelated pedestrian appeared in the signal box attached to the street pole, but Kenna allowed the two strangers to her right to walk ahead of her while she slowed her pace, keeping an eye on the man the entire time. She breathed a little easier when he didn’t even seem to notice that she’d dropped back a bit. It wasn’t like her to see things that weren’t there, but she also had never been a potential target for a serial killer.
Kenna’s heart skipped a beat when the man suddenly turned his head to the right as he stepped up on the curb. She pulled the lapel of her jacket a little tighter to give herself something to hold onto as she finally made it to the opposite curb. A part of her almost decided to turn around and seek out Jenn, who couldn’t have gotten too far, but she was now closer to the entrance of the pub.
She tried to make out the man’s features, but the only thing that stood out was his brown hair. The strands curled up in the back, but she never would have noticed had he not turned his head. She gauged him to be about six feet tall. If she had to guess, she would say that he was relatively thin, but the thick jacket prevented her from knowing for sure.
Kenna had been so caught up in trying to get as many details as possible that she was caught by surprise when she ran smack dab into someone. Had he not grabbed onto her upper arms, she would have ended up on the ground.
“I’m so sorry,” Kenna exclaimed breathlessly, having released her own jacket to steady herself. So much for her paying attention to her surroundings. She’d been too focused on the strange man across the street to notice that she’d veered into oncoming foot traffic. “I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine.”
The deep raspy tone had an unnerving quality about it, and Kenna quickly took a step back. Her first impression was that this man’s eyes were practically black. He held onto her a little longer than necessary, and he was studying her expression as if to memorize it for another time. Once again, it struck her that she’d been so absorbed with the male wearing the black jacket that she’d allowed herself to become vulnerable. What had Dean called it? Situational awareness. She’d lost track of her surroundings because she’d become fixated on one aspect of her environment.
“Are you okay, ma’am?”
Kenna nodded while she swallowed and managed to offer this stranger a very strained smile. She reminded herself that it wasn’t like this man could drag her kicking and screaming from the sidewalk without anyone being the wiser. Seeing as lunchtime was ending, there were quite a lot of pedestrians milling about town.
“Yes, I’m fine,” Kenna responded, grabbing hold of her lapels once more for a bit of security. “I truly am sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“Honey, do you think we could stop by the bakery for a couple of those cinnamon rolls?” a woman asked, her light-stilted voice coming out of nowhere. She was quite beautiful, with her blonde hair piled high on top of her head with tendrils coming down to accentuate her cheekbones. She slipped her hand through the man’s arm and looked pointedly at Kenna. “Is everything alright?”
“I was just apologizing for running into your husband,” Kenna said, offering up another forced smile. He was married. She thought back to her conversation with Dean last night, but she couldn’t recall if the profile mentioned the suspect as being single or married. “I wasn’t watching where I was going, and I bumped into him. You two have a wonderful day.”
Kenna managed to slip past the couple without any further incident. She wasn’t the type to overreact, and here she’d done it twice in a matter of minutes. Before reaching for the door handle, she looked over her shoulder. The man in the black jacket was nowhere to be found. He’d probably been on his way to work from a lunch meeting, minding his own business when her overactive imagination had kicked into high gear. She needed to take a moment to herself to get her bearings straight. Either that, or she needed to hit one of those yoga classes tonight.
She opened the door to the pub, immediately being welcomed by the warmth and the inviting up-tempo music that was streaming out of the numerous speakers placed strategically throughout the bar. The music wasn’t loud enough to drown out a conversation or interrupt a meal, but it was enough to change a person’s attitude for the better.
The tension in Kenna’s shoulders immediately released its hold on her muscles now that she was safely indoors. She really needed to get a mental grip, and she was grateful for the distraction of the new pub owner who was currently motioning to her that she should grab a booth. She took her time to look around before removing her jacket and hanging it up on the small metal hook that was attached to the roughhewn wooden pole that stood between each of the booths.
Daryl “Bright” Brighton had done a fantastic job with the small renovation he’d done before having his grand opening last week, though he’d had a soft opening weeks before th
at. Clearly, from the number of patrons enjoying their lunches and drinks, the new design and feel of the place had done wonders for business. Instead of the standard bar that was seen practically on every corner, Bright had wanted the feel of a traditional Irish pub. He’d brought in the darker wood for the interior, as well as matching chairs and tables. TVs were positioned on practically every viewing angle for the sports lovers, as well as darts and pool tables set up in the backroom for those who wanted more privacy or to be more active. The high-walled booths were positioned throughout the outer room of the establishment to provide alcoves for those who wished to remain undisturbed.
“Try this,” Bright urged a few minutes later, setting a pink frozen drink in front of her with a small candy cane hanging from the side in decoration. “Rhonda came up with a new line of specialty drinks that we’ll use every holiday season. This is called Candy Cane Lane, for obvious reasons.”
Kenna wasn’t a drinker by nature, but she did enjoy a glass of sweet wine every now and then. Bright seemed so excited about the new line of holiday drinks that she couldn’t turn him down. She leaned forward and steadied the straw with her fingers, drawing the cold beverage into her mouth. The minty flavor mixed with what could only be a light rum had her taste buds dancing at the delightful flavor. She closed her eyes to savor the delectable taste.
“Bright, this is delicious. You’ve definitely got a winner here,” Kenna exclaimed, not expecting the cold shiver that washed over her. “Oh, wow. Brain freeze. I might need a cup of hot coffee before I leave. That’s tasty, but a bit frosty!”
“Glad you like it,” Bright said with a smile, rubbing his hands together in triumph. They settled into one of the few low-walled booths in the main tap room. “We have several office parties and a few holiday events being hosted here throughout the upcoming weeks, so we’re in the process of preparing drink menus.”
The Forgotten Widow Page 8
