by C. M. Sutter
I added, “Probably came with the all-in-one package. The light is flashing.” I checked the screen, and it showed thirteen messages, beginning at ten forty-five yesterday.
Sergeant Bateman nodded. “That looks about right. Tara Lamar said she and all their mutual friends tried calling Jackie. I’m sure as a last resort they called the house phone too.”
I pressed the message button as we stood around the phone. One by one, friends asked where she was and said to call them. Everyone was worried about her.
“What kind of vehicle does she drive?” I waited as Bateman looked up that information.
“She drives a 2015 burnt-orange-colored Ford Fiesta.”
“Got a plate number?”
“No, ma’am, but I’ll get our tech department to pull that up.”
I returned to the kitchen. “No cell phone, keys, or purse. Would an attacker worry about taking those items with him?”
J.T. answered. “Sure, if everything was in the purse. She parked, killed the ignition, dropped her cell in the purse, and unlocked the front door. She may have jammed the keys in her pocket as she entered the house. She set her purse on the kitchen counter and went back outside to grab the first bag of groceries. It’s easier for a perp to grab one item if everything you need, including her wallet, was inside.”
“Yeah, that’s a valid point. So they left together in her car. Either he had a weapon pointed at her and she drove or she was out cold and he was behind the wheel. Get some officers to photograph every vehicle on this street that isn’t issued to law enforcement or parked in a driveway. Make sure they photograph the plate numbers too. Start a knock and talk throughout the neighborhood. These houses are close together. Somebody had to have seen something.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Hardy said as we stepped outside. He pointed at the end of the street to several TV station vans that were approaching. He kicked a rock and yelled to the officers who stood at the police tape. “Cordon off the whole block. I don’t need these busybodies interfering with our investigation. For God’s sake, we’ve only been here for thirty minutes.”
I shielded my eyes and looked down the street. “Police scanners, Cap. They’re a double-edged sword.”
Hardy nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”
“Sir, we’ve pushed back the TV crews, but they’ve put their telephoto lenses on their cameras.”
Hardy turned and looked at the For Sale sign. “Damn it, there’s nothing to block that sign from their cameras, either. I’m sure the news is going to have a field day with this. It’s the third killing in a week and all at houses for sale with Scenic View Realty. I hate to sound morbid, but the other real estate companies are probably loving this. Squelch the competition.”
Bateman hung up his cell and crossed the lawn to where we stood. “We have her plate number, Agent Monroe.”
“Okay, get a BOLO out for her car right away.” I jerked my head toward J.T. and found a shade tree to stand under. He followed me.
“What’s up, partner?”
“I doubt if Forensics is going to find any useful evidence in the house. Other than with Sarah, the perp has stayed within the entry and kitchen areas.”
“True, so what set her apart?”
“Maybe she was his first, and he realized after chasing her through the house that there could be a chance of DNA, prints, or some other evidence left behind. That could be why the Taser came into play with the Kings and now possibly with Jackie Stern. He wants to keep the crime scene as small as possible.”
“I hate to admit it, but this guy isn’t stupid.”
“That’s the scary part, J.T., and so far we have nothing. I know crimes go unsolved now and then. Maybe he’s one of those friendly next-door neighbors that nobody would ever suspect.” My eyes darted from house to house, where people stood on their porches, talking to officers. A lot of heads were shaking. “He could be anyone, even one of these neighbors. I can’t figure out what we’re missing.”
“Don’t blame yourself, Jade. Nobody else can figure this out, either. We only need one reliable lead to set everything in motion. Think of it like dominos—tip one and you tip them all. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let this guy outsmart us.”
“I’m glad you’re so confident.”
Additional officers had been called in. Some took pictures of vehicles, others looked to the ground for clues, and the rest were interviewing homeowners.
“What about the canine unit?”
J.T. shrugged. “Jackie’s scent will end at the driveway. The dogs won’t have anything beyond that.”
“We can’t sit back and wait for another person to go missing or be murdered. I have an idea!”
“Yeah? Spill it.”
“We can stake out every house that’s for sale with Scenic View Realty. The perp is bound to show up sooner or later.”
“That sounds logical, Jade, except for the fact that they’re the largest real estate company in the state. I doubt if we can spread any police force that thin. If he caught wind of it, he’d leave Omaha, move on to another town, and continue the killing.”
“So if the victims aren’t his real target, then who is?”
Chapter 23
Ed filled the bucket with hot sudsy water then dropped in a scrub brush and rag. He had to clean up the mess he had created yesterday when his fury at his ex-wife caused him to take out his anger on Jackie.
Wrong place, wrong time, Jackie. I would have grown tired of you, anyway. Women aren’t my favorite people.
He carried the bucket to the corner of the living room, knelt down, and began scrubbing. The water quickly turned a crimson red. Chunks of bone and flesh bobbed up and down with each dip of his hand into the water. He flushed the contents down the toilet and filled the bucket again. After he’d made three refills, the floor looked as if nothing out of the ordinary had taken place in that room. Ed poured the last of the pink-tinted water into the toilet and gave it a final flush.
Bye-bye, Jackie. Nobody will ever know you stopped in for a visit.
Ed dried his hands and took a seat on the couch. The remote lay on the cushion next to him.
Let’s see what’s on the boob tube.
With the remote pointed at the television, Ed scrolled through the channels and found nothing that interested him.
Every station plays crap. Wait—what’s this? Local breaking news, huh? Let’s see what they have to say.
Ed’s interest was piqued when he recognized the neighborhood. “Hey, that’s Jackie’s street.”
The reporter stood outside the yellow-taped perimeter and pointed over his shoulder. “Police have this entire neighborhood cordoned off, and from the number of officers in the area, we’re assuming something horrific has taken place. The taped-off perimeter was expanded even farther out as soon as our and all the other news vans were spotted. With the recent murders in Omaha, our team can’t help but believe something of that caliber has taken place in this primarily older and quiet neighborhood. Sources in the area tell us that the county crime lab van arrived earlier and is parked in the driveway of the house where everyone has congregated. We have yet to see or hear of the coroner arriving. As of now, there’s one defining similarity between this scene and the earlier murders in the area, and it’s this.”
The cameraman zoomed in on the For Sale sign that stood in the center of the yard.
Ed paused the TV. “Wait a minute.” He pushed the back arrow on the remote then hit Play again. His finger hovered over the pause button until the perfect second. He hit the button. “Sure as shit, it’s that FBI lady from the gas station standing there with all the cops.” Ed pressed Play again, and the reporter continued.
“At this point in time, the For Sale sign behind me looks to be the only connection police seem to have. This is Lon Cabrera reporting live for Channel 4 Breaking News.”
Ed slapped his knees and laughed. “Pretty soon this entire city is going to be frozen with fear. Everyone is going to be af
raid to put their house up for sale. That FBI bitch is about to earn her fat paycheck. I think it’s time to up the ante.”
Chapter 24
Most of the officers had gathered back at the house. Three hours had gone by. Every car on the street had been photographed and every neighbor had been interviewed.
“I can’t believe nobody noticed a damn thing.” I pressed my palms against my temples in hopes that it would subdue my pounding headache. “Okay, listen up, guys. We need everyone who took photographs of the cars to send those pictures to the tech department at the central station. They can start checking into who owns the vehicles and if the owners have police records. We appreciate your help with this.” I turned to Sergeant Bateman. “Did your men find anything unusual or questionable along the street, sidewalk, or on the property?”
“No, nothing, Agent Monroe.”
“I figured as much. He’s in and out quickly and leaves no evidence. J.T.?”
“Sure thing, Jade. Cap, have you heard back from the officers who went to the grocery store?”
Hardy looked at his watch. “Nope, but I’ll take care of that right now.” He stepped away to a quieter spot to make the call.
I looked down the street and noticed that the news vans had left the area. “Okay, I think we can pull down the tape so the neighbors can come and go as they please, but we’ll keep the house cordoned off. We need someone out here to nail plywood over the door.”
J.T. tipped his chin at the officer standing next to him. “Take care of that, please, and stick around until the job is done.”
“Yes, sir.”
I leaned in next to J.T. “We need to take down that For Sale sign or this house is going to be the neighborhood sideshow. As a matter of fact, we should do that at all the crime scenes. No need to advertise where the murders took place.”
“Good point, Jade. Officer Blake, make sure that gets done too.”
An hour ago, Stan and his forensic team left and took the grocery bags along to dust for prints. I wasn’t optimistic that they’d find anything since they hadn’t at the other crime scenes. I was certain the perp was gloved at all times.
“How about heading back to the station where we can figure out what we do and don’t have.”
I heard a smirk behind us and turned to see Hardy approaching. “That’ll be a short list, Jade.”
“Get anything from the grocery store?” J.T. asked.
“Sure did. The officers said the videotape showed Jackie checking out at nine thirty-seven. The parking lot cam showed nothing amiss—nobody approached her. She put the groceries in her trunk, walked the cart to the cart corral, got in her car, and drove away. The last they saw of her, she was turning left out of the parking lot.”
“There are cameras at most retail stores, though. We can follow her car.”
Hardy furrowed his brows. “Sure, but only up to a point. The nearest camera to this older neighborhood is three miles away at the gas station on Hillside Street. This area is still undeveloped as far as retail and commercial establishments.”
J.T. dipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out the keys for the Explorer. “Let’s go back to the station. We need to come up with a plan of action. Somehow, some way, we have to stay a few steps ahead of this guy or we’ll never catch him.”
“Roger that, just follow me,” Hardy said as he climbed into his cruiser and turned the key.
Back at the police station, we joined the captain in his office and dropped down in his guest chairs.
“You know this case may go unsolved, don’t you, Cap? It isn’t often that we have no evidence, no suspects, no motive, and no connection between the victims.” I rubbed my temples again.
“Head still hurting?” J.T. asked.
“Yeah, I guess my brain is in overdrive.” I pulled the tin of ibuprofen out of my purse and excused myself. “Gotta get some water. I’ll be right back.”
“I have water here. Stay put, Jade.” Hardy reached into his desk drawer and pulled out three small bottles of water. He slid two across his desk and cracked open the cap of his own.
“Thanks.” I guzzled down four ibuprofen tablets with a gulp of water. “Anyway, back to our conversation. The victims aren’t the connection, so that takes us back to Scenic View Realty. It’s the only common link between any of them.”
“Okay, so what does that actually mean, and why a real estate company?”
A knock sounded on Hardy’s door, and Andrews popped in. “Just wanted to update you, sir. We have Beth Sloane in box one and Tara Lamar in box two. Beth is giving us as much information as she can remember about the night she discovered Mr. and Mrs. King on their kitchen floor. She may have passed someone walking down the sidewalk or driving out of the neighborhood. We’re hoping she may have seen something that she doesn’t even realize is important.”
“Good idea. Try to jog her memory as much as you can. And Tara?”
“We need to know everything about Jackie that she can tell us. Apparently they’ve been best friends for years.”
“Where’s her family? Have they been notified yet?” J.T. asked.
“It’s Bateman’s jurisdiction, so we figured they would take care of that. At this point, all anyone knows is that she’s missing. According to Tara, the parents are divorced and have been estranged from Jackie for years. They don’t live in the area, and Tara doesn’t know how to find them.”
“Any siblings?”
“A brother in the service who is currently deployed overseas.”
Hardy groaned. “Nothing is ever easy. Okay, tape both interviews. I’ll review them later.”
Andrews nodded. “You got it.”
“Back to the real estate company,” J.T. said. “Maybe we need to check into each agent personally and see if there’s bad blood between them and someone else.”
I shook my head. “But why kill innocent homeowners? That part of it doesn’t make sense. We need to look at the bigger picture. Scenic View is a huge corporation, but maybe they’re shady. They could be connected to the mob or doing underhanded transactions. They could be in cahoots with the banks, the home appraisers, or the inspectors and getting kickbacks from any of them. I’m not saying that’s what’s happening and I don’t want to start a smear campaign, but we could be looking at this entirely backward.” I jotted down some quick notes so I wouldn’t forget. “Either somebody is trying to take down Scenic View Realty specifically or they want to stop all home sales in the metro Omaha area, one company at a time.”
Chapter 25
Ed blended in with the crowd of people who stood twenty feet away from the King house. Candles, flowers, and cards filled the sidewalk. The house and property, still wrapped in yellow tape, was off limits to looky-loos.
Humph, the For Sale sign is gone. Afraid of bad publicity, are you? Let’s see what’s going on at poor Sarah’s house.
The drive from one home to the other wasn’t far. Ed arrived fifteen minutes later and walked the final block to find a similar scene in front of Sarah’s house. A makeshift memorial honoring Sarah Cummings lined the sidewalk and extended into the grassy area in front of the street. Her yard, still taped off, was watched by a patrol unit that circled the neighborhood to make sure nobody trespassed on the property. Ed engaged in senseless chitchat with onlookers and snapped photos to fit in with everyone else. A TV crew setting up in front of a neighboring house caught his eye. He moved in closer to hear the broadcast.
“This is Tammy Hawn, Channel 9 News, reporting from the home of slain library employee Sarah Cummings. The sidewalk along the house has been transformed into a memorial to pay respect to the woman who was senselessly killed Monday afternoon. To our knowledge, the police are still stumped by these recent murders. Ahead and to my right, the For Sale sign stood until the police department had it taken down just thirty minutes ago. Even without the sign, the location of this brutal murder can’t be forgotten. Hundreds of people have come by to pay their respects with cards and flowers. The ye
llow crime scene tape, still present, is a constant reminder of the horror that took place at 439 Prentice Street. This is Tammy Hawn, Channel 9 News, signing off in front of the home of Sarah Cummings, whom we believe to be the first victim of the Scenic View Serial Killer.”
The cameraman panned the crowd and zoomed in on the house and sidewalk before shutting down his equipment. Tammy Hawn handed her microphone off to an assistant. “Let’s go. We need to get this piece ready to broadcast on the evening news.”
Ed turned around and headed down the sidewalk with his fist covering his laughter. The nickname Tammy Hawn had come up with—Scenic View Serial Killer—was brilliant. He had seen and heard enough, and he had work to do. A new plan—the best one yet—bubbled up in his mind. It would definitely make law enforcement stand up and take notice. The city would panic, and the press would demand answers.
Chapter 26
“I’m suing the news stations and the police department for slander. This cute nickname the media has tagged the killer with is ruining my business. According to my Realtors, there hasn’t been one new listing since the King murders.”
Captain Hardy stuck his index fingers in his ear as William Stewart screamed his threats through the phone lines.
“Mr. Stewart, the police department hasn’t done anything to slander your company’s name, and I’m not in charge of the nickname the news station came up with. They thought it up, ran with it, and now it’s caught on. Maybe you should call them and spew your threats in their direction.”
“I already have, and they hung up on me.”
“Well, they haven’t directly blamed you or your company for anything. Freedom of speech, you know. They can nickname the killer anything they want, and I don’t hear him complaining.”
“Very funny, and I don’t appreciate your flip attitude. They’re associating my company with a murderer, and I’ll sue the city for not putting a stop to it.”
“I have a great idea, Mr. Stewart. Why don’t you come in one more time so we can sit down together and discuss this like two grown men?”
