Malice

by C. M. Sutter

  “What do you have?” J.T. yelled.

  We were twenty feet away when the stench of death hit us right in the face. I raised the back of my hand to cover my nose. I had come across bodies decaying in the elements numerous times, and I recognized the smell of human remains.

  Tyler shined the light on the raised mound that was partially covered with leaves. A left arm, scratched and chewed on, torn jeans, and a clump of brown hair were exposed on the side that faced us. “We’ve got what’s likely a female under these leaves. I can’t see much more than that without disturbing the scene. We should stand back a bit and get the ME and Forensics out here right away. Looks like the bugs and elements are making short work of her and any evidence that may be in the proximity of the body.”

  I kicked the tree nearest me. “Son of a bitch. How much do you want to bet that’s Jackie Stern?”

  Hardy jerked his chin at Lieutenant Jackson. “Go ahead and make the call. We’ll need the addresses and phone numbers for the parents of those boys too. Tyler and Andrews, stay here at the scene until Forensics and the ME arrive, but stay back twenty feet. Lyles and Franklin, back out of this area and start searching a fifty-foot perimeter of this spot for anything that doesn’t belong. I want an update by ten o’clock.”

  “Sure thing, Cap.”

  Hardy nodded at J.T. and me. “Come on. We need to talk to those kids.”

  Lieutenant Jackson spoke up. “Have Officer Jenkins get you the phone numbers and addresses of the families. I’ll update you later tonight, Captain Hardy.”

  “Thanks, Lieutenant.”

  Hardy, J.T., and I headed back to the car with Jenkins so he could drive us out to our cruiser.

  Once inside the car, he called his precinct and got the information we needed from his desk sergeant. I wrote the addresses and phone numbers down. Several minutes later we were back at our cruiser, where J.T. made the calls to the parents of Terry Mitchell and Sam Cooper.

  From the sound of the conversation on J.T.’s end, we would have the opportunity to interview the boys together. He hung up moments later.

  “Okay, we’re going to the Mitchell house. Sam Cooper and his mom and dad are on their way. Apparently the folks are close friends too and only live four blocks from each other.”

  With the address programmed in my GPS and only a short distance from the pond, we arrived at the Mitchell house in less than ten minutes. We pulled in behind one of the two cars that sat in the driveway.

  “Looks like the Coopers may already be here,” Hardy said with a chin jerk at the other car.

  “I hope those boys have plenty to say. As of now, they’re the only eyewitnesses we have.”

  J.T. gave me a look of concern. “You better hope that’s Jackie in the woods, otherwise there’s two killers roaming around.”

  We followed the sidewalk to the front door, and Hardy rang the bell. Seconds later, the door swung open, and a man who looked to be around forty greeted us and welcomed us in.

  “This way, folks.” He motioned us toward the living room. “I’ll make the introductions.”

  We entered a large, welcoming room with plenty of seating. Two boys sat on the fireplace hearth and whispered back and forth.

  “My wife, Sheila, is right here.” He pointed at the pretty blonde sitting on an upholstered chair to his right. “Tom and Linda Cooper are Sam’s parents. Everyone, this is Captain Hardy from the central station downtown, and Agent Monroe and Harper from the FBI.”

  Sam’s eyes nearly doubled in size. “Wow, FBI!”

  I gave him a grin and took off my badge. “Here, check it out.”

  We shook hands with both families and took our seats on the couch opposite them. The three of us naturally pulled out our notepads.

  Sheila Mitchell stood. “Can I get coffee for any of you?”

  I was dying for coffee, but we needed to get down to business. We gratefully declined, then I asked the boys to come closer and take a seat next to us.

  I leaned to my left, where J.T. took up the center, and Hardy sat beyond him. “You want to lead the questioning?”

  J.T. turned to Hardy. “Any problem with that?”

  “Nope, go ahead.”

  “Okay, boys, we need your attention because the questions I’m about to ask you are really important.”

  “We answered the officers’ questions earlier. Didn’t they tell you what we said?”

  “Terry, that’s enough! Agent Harper may have other questions to ask that are different than what you were asked before.”

  “Sorry.”

  J.T. smiled. “No problem. Are you guys ready?”

  They both nodded as Sam handed my badge back to me. I gave him a wink.

  “Okay, let’s pretend it was earlier today when you boys decided to go fishing. You grabbed your poles, jumped on your bicycles, and took off, right?”

  They both nodded.

  “Okay, Terry, why don’t you take it from there, and Sam, go ahead and add anything you can remember.”

  “We always ride our bikes down the old deer path, because it’s faster than the road.”

  “And that’s what you did today, Terry?” I asked.

  “Uh-huh.”

  J.T. continued. “Then what happened?”

  “Then we rode down the long trail that goes to the pond and—”

  Sam interrupted. “And I even said it looked like somebody drove back there.”

  “Why did you think that, Sam?” Hardy asked.

  “Because all of the tall weeds were bent down.”

  “Great observation,” I said. “Maybe you’ll grow up to be an investigator.”

  Sam elbowed Terry and grinned.

  “Go ahead, Terry.” J.T. flipped the page of his notepad.

  “When we got to the pond, we saw a truck. We got off of our bikes to see if anyone was fishing, but nobody was by the water.”

  “You didn’t see anyone right away?”

  “Nope.”

  “So what did this truck look like?”

  “I remember,” Sam yelled out.

  “Okay, go ahead, Sam. It’s your turn.”

  “It was rusty.”

  “Do you remember what color it was?”

  “It was the color of rust.”

  “So it was rusty and the color of rust, or just a rusty color, like orangish brown?”

  Sam wrinkled his forehead. “It was both.”

  “Good job, boys, and then what happened?”

  Terry’s eyes began to water. “Then that man from the woods came toward us. We were scared.”

  “Did he say anything?”

  “Yeah.” Terry put his face in his hands. Mrs. Mitchell took a seat on the floor and comforted him.

  Sam continued. “He said, ‘Hi, boys, what’s up?’ He said it scary, though.”

  “So you were afraid of him?” J.T. asked. “You don’t think he was there to fish?”

  “We didn’t see any fishing poles, and he looked mad. He started walking fast at us. That’s when we ran into the woods. He chased us, but we knew where to hide.”

  “Did he say anything when he was chasing you?” I asked.

  “He said, ‘I’m gonna get you.’”

  Sam’s expression told me he was on the verge of tears too. “Okay, let’s take five minutes.”

  The mothers gave us an appreciative look. They offered us coffee once more, and this time we accepted. The boys needed a break.

  Hardy tipped his wrist to check the time. Ten minutes had passed, and it was closing in on nine o’clock. We needed to wrap up the interview. He whispered to me to call the station. We needed to get a BOLO out for any truck matching that description.

  “Okay, if everyone is ready, I think we’ll be done in about fifteen minutes. You boys okay to continue?” J.T. asked.

  They each took a deep breath and nodded.

  “How long did you stay hidden?”

  “Until he drove away,” Sam said.

  “Do you think that was five
minutes or longer than that?”

  “Longer, like ten minutes. We ran back to our bikes and grabbed our fishing poles. Then we took off for home.”

  Hardy gave them a thumbs-up. “That was a very smart thing to do.”

  “Do you boys think you can describe this man?”

  “We didn’t stare at his face,” Terry said. “We just wanted to hide.”

  “I know, but how about a general description like if he was tall or short, heavy or thin, old or young, bald or not?

  “He was the size of my dad,” Terry said.

  I turned to Mr. Mitchell and asked him to stand. “So he was a little bit tall and sort of strong looking?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Did he look older or younger than your dad?” J.T. asked.

  “About the same. He was a regular man except mean looking.”

  We wrote that down.

  J.T. closed his notepad and slipped it back into his inner pocket. “And finally, did you notice his hair?”

  Sam spoke up. “It was brown, like yours.”

  “And the same length too?”

  Sam nodded. “I think so.”

  We stood to leave. “Okay, boys, that’s it for tonight,” I said. “You both did great, and we really appreciate your help.” I pulled the parents aside. “Do you remember any more from their initial interview, or even when they were alone with you, that may help?”

  “Only the part about the knife,” Mrs. Mitchell said. “I appreciate you not bringing that up. Mentioning it to the police set both of them off into a crying frenzy.”

  I patted her shoulder. “Understood. Were they able to describe that knife?”

  “Only that he pulled it out of his belt, I’m assuming a sheath, and it was big,” Mr. Cooper said.

  Hardy shook his head. “That had to be terrifying for them.”

  We passed out our cards and told the parents to feel free to call us anytime. They escorted us to the door, and we left.

  Chapter 40

  Hardy received an update call from Lieutenant Jackson as we drove back to the precinct. The ME had just loaded up the body, and Forensics was still on the scene. At that point, nothing more had been found in the woods. According to Joe’s initial assessment, Jackson said, the damage from bugs and animals told him the body had been in that spot for a good twenty-four hours or more. He was pretty certain the body was Jackie’s—her throat was riddled with stab wounds, but he still had to get a positive ID on her before confirming that.

  “I had a gut feeling. So that sick bastard went back to the scene where he dumped her out of curiosity? He needed to see the damage outdoor conditions and animals could do?” I rubbed my brow. “That guy is unbelievable.”

  “But now we have something to work with,” Hardy said.

  “Yeah, the truck. All we have to do is identify it on the tapes.”

  “The daylight videos are going to help the most. We’ll focus our attention on the tapes near Sarah’s and Jackie’s houses tomorrow. Right now, we’re calling it a night. None of us has slept for nearly two days.”

  “But—”

  J.T. interrupted. “Jade, this isn’t open for discussion. I’m exhausted, and I’m sure everyone else is too. We all need sleep.”

  Hardy’s phone rang again. This time it was Lyles. He explained to the captain everything Jackson had just told him. Hardy said to call it a night and tell the rest of the officers to go home. We’d reconvene at nine a.m.

  We said good night to Hardy at the station and climbed into the Explorer.

  “When was the last time we ate anything?” J.T. asked when he heard my stomach growl.

  “To be honest, I don’t remember.”

  “Want to grab a bite at an all-night diner?”

  “I’d love to. If I go to bed hungry, I won’t be able to sleep, anyway. This damn stomach noise will keep me awake. We can discuss our ideas as we eat.”

  J.T. found a well-lit restaurant three blocks from the police station. “How’s this?”

  “It looks like a place that would serve bacon. I’m all in.”

  He smiled as he pulled into the parking lot and killed the engine. “Did you ever check your lottery ticket from yesterday’s drawing?” J.T. held the door open for me.

  “No, did you?”

  “Yeah, I’m a loser.”

  The visit to that gas station on Thursday popped into my mind. I had stood in line to buy our tickets, and that was when I saw Ed Tanner’s driver’s license on the floor. I took it out to him at pump seven, where he had just finished putting gas in his rusty clunker.

  I grabbed J.T.’s forearm and squeezed it.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  I held my tongue until the hostess had seated us and walked away. “J.T., don’t you remember?”

  “What?”

  “Ed Tanner’s truck? It was a faded red rust bucket.”

  “Son of a bitch, you’re right, but we can’t go after him because of the color of his truck. There are probably plenty of men with junkers like that.”

  I put my finger to my lips. The waitress was coming toward our booth with two pots of coffee. She had noticed our upturned cups.

  “Regular or decaf, folks?”

  “This time of night? Better make it decaf or I’ll never get to sleep.”

  “You too, sir?”

  “Please.”

  “Do you need a few minutes?”

  “No, we’re ready,” I said. I wanted to get back to our conversation without another pause. “I’ll have the short stack with an order of crispy bacon.”

  “And you, sir?”

  “I’ll have the same except make mine a large stack.”

  “Sounds good. Would you like me to leave the coffee with you?”

  I smiled. “That would be great, thanks.” I waited until she was out of earshot before continuing. I leaned across the booth and talked quietly. “Okay, but the tapes should confirm a reddish rusty truck driving by if the body in the woods is indeed Jackie. We have to find out in the morning whose neighborhood had better videotapes, Jackie’s or Sarah’s.”

  “I hate to suggest this but—” J.T. paused.

  “Don’t leave me hanging. But what?”

  “We could have the boys watch the news footage in front of Sarah’s house without telling them why.”

  “Because Ed’s face shows up?”

  J.T. nodded as he blew on his coffee.

  “I don’t want to traumatize them again, J.T. I’m a trained law enforcement officer. It’s my job to notice things like that. They’re kids who probably don’t have very good recall, plus he was wearing a cap in that footage. Don’t you think it’s too coincidental that he’d be at the scene of Sarah’s murder and then show up where Jackie was dumped? We have him dead to rights.”

  “Nice choice of words, and no we don’t. We have to prove, without a shadow of a doubt, that Ed Tanner is the Scenic View Serial Killer or he’ll walk scot-free.”

  “We still don’t know why his residence doesn’t come up in the Nebraska DMV database.”

  “If we can establish a positive identity, whether it comes from you or the boys, then we can pull up everything on Ed Tanner in the national database, including a credit check, background check, bank statements, and IRS reports. If Ed is the killer, we’ll find out where he lives, one way or another.”

  “Damn it. I could have made this easy by studying his driver’s license.”

  “That would have been a tad invasive, don’t you think?”

  I shrugged. “Not in hindsight.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up. Be content. You’re going to eat and sleep tonight. What could be better than that at the moment?”

  “Real maple syrup for my pancakes.”

  J.T. chuckled.

  An hour later, we were back at our hotel and saying good night after stepping out of the elevator.

  “See you in the morning, partner. Seven thirtyish?”

  “Yep. Good night, Jade. Sle
ep well.”

  J.T. watched until I was safely in my room. I liked that about him. He was a caring friend and a damn good agent.

  I slipped on one of my dad’s old T-shirts and my sleep pants. I felt close to my dad every time I put one of those T-shirts over my head. No matter how many times they were washed, I could still smell him. The scent would take me back to my youth, when he’d squeeze me so tight before bed, I thought I would burst. If only I could give him one more hug.

  With a deep sigh, I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and crawled into bed for the second time since we hit the ground in Omaha.

  Chapter 41

  Ed slipped on his sneakers and went outside before dawn to steal the Sunday newspaper from a driveway four doors down. He was still in a foul mood. Those boys from yesterday got away. They saw his face and truck for a minute, but that could have been long enough to give law enforcement a good description. He’d have to either scale back his activities or stick to his nighttime plan and carry out his deeds in a different city.

  Back in the house, he poured a cup of coffee and sat at the table with the paper in hand.

  Let’s see if the “Homes for sale” section has gotten any thinner.

  Ed opened the newspaper and let each page that he had no interest in drop to the floor. He finally came to the home section and pulled it from the rest of the paper. “Aah, here we go. It actually does seem a bit lighter.” Ed spread the pages and found what he was looking for. Scenic View was front and center, taking up both sides of the newspaper as always. He sighed.

  I’m not sure if my actions are making an impact. There are so many listings, yet I don’t see any that say “New listing.” I think I’m off to a good start.

  Ed tossed the paper in the trash can then gave the refrigerator handle a jerk. He pulled out the blue Styrofoam carton and removed two eggs. He cracked them over the thick pat of butter that had been sizzling in the cast-iron skillet, placed two slices of bread into the toaster, and pressed the lever. Ed pulled out a plate from the upper cabinet and set it next to the stove.

  This person-by-person process could take forever, and I don’t have that much patience.

  He sat at the table with his breakfast and stewed. He wanted immediate results. He reached for the TV remote and clicked On.