by Blake Pierce
It was a good point, but Kate wasn’t sure how accurate it was. True, it didn’t seem like the killer was trying to send any sort of message, but the proximity of the murders and the fact that the women were part of the same circle of friends made Kate think he was trying to prove something.
But what?
Self-preservation, like O’Brien had indicated. Was the killer trying to protect himself? And if so, who was he afraid might hurt him?
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
“You buy all that Jesus stuff he was talking about?” DeMarco asked.
The question caught Kate off guard. It was very direct and was easily the most personal question that had been shared between the two of them so far. It was also a question that was not easy for Kate to answer.
“I don’t know,” she said, trying her best. “I don’t mind telling you that I believe in God. But when you get into the Holy Spirit and a resurrected Jesus, I start to have some serious doubts. Why do you ask?”
DeMarco shrugged. “Because I don’t. I never have. I have no doubt that people can truly change—even people like Tate O’Brien—but I don’t think it’s because they symbolically give their lives over to the spirit of some man that may have never even lived.”
“But you agree that a killer can have some sort of a change of heart?” Kate asked.
“Absolutely.”
“They say Jeffrey Dahmer became a born again Christian in prison,” Kate said. “So I guess that’s some pretty substantial proof.”
“Yeah, and he was killed by inmates later. So it appears that the Jesus he gave his life to cared nothing for him.”
Kate couldn’t help but smirk. She could tell that DeMarco was not broaching the topic out of the need for an argument. She was genuinely feeling Kate out, trying to get her thoughts on what they had just heard from O’Brien and how it might relate to their killer.
“You know, I can’t help but wonder,” Kate said. “We’ve been trying to get information out of the remaining friends in their little clique. But if there were secrets about their lives—things like affairs, for instance—then there’s no guarantee they’d come clean. But there have to be others in Amber Hills who know those women…and maybe don’t like them. But just in a normal way…the way some neighbors just don’t like the people that live next to them.”
“So you think we need to speak to neighbors as impartial parties?” DeMarco asked.
“Well, as neighbors, they’d hardly be impartial. But yes. If we’re going to get the truth about that circle of friends, we have to go elsewhere. The truth we get might be stretched a bit but it’s better than secrets.”
“So we’re assuming that Taylor Woodward and Wendy Hudson were being dishonest?”
“Not at all. That’s a dangerous assumption to make about anyone. But I do think there’s a chance they’d want to protect the reputation of their friends if there was anything dirty on them.”
“Worth a shot, I guess,” DeMarco said.
“Don’t tell me you’re one of those people that assumes the best about everyone,” Kate joked.
“I do when there is grief involved.”
Kate nodded. She usually felt the same way. But in a small gated community where she knew for certain there had been one affair and perhaps at least one additional one, she felt that no one could really be trusted. Because grief was one thing…but shame was a totally different beast. It was much stronger and could, at times, make people behave irrationally.
***
Before revisiting Amber Hills, Kate dropped DeMarco off at her motel. She then kept her promise to Melissa, going back by the hospital. With both the mother and the baby cleared as healthy, she was allowed to go directly to the room. The scene was totally different than it had been in the morning. When she got to the room, Melissa was beaming, holding Michelle in a swaddle of blankets.
She was alone in the room, which surprised Kate. She had expected Terry to be with her, never leaving her side. He was a good man and Kate was very thankful that her daughter had ended up with him.
“How’s it going?” Kate asked, walking proudly to the side of the bed.
“Good,” Melissa said. “My abdomen is numb from the surgery but my nerves are so jittery that I don’t even care.”
“Nerves?”
“Adrenaline, I guess. And the suffocating worry that I’m going to be a terrible mother.”
“Nonsense,” Kate said. “How many books did you read about birth and parenting in the last nine months?”
“Pretty much all of them. Still…now that she’s actually here, it’s like nothing I read really even matters.”
“It comes naturally,” Kate said. “Trust me. Hey, where’s Terry?”
“He went down to the cafeteria to see what they had. He’s been nervous, too. He hasn’t eaten since my water broke. He’s still nervous about little Michelle, too. They’re coming back to get her soon. She has to stay in the NICU for a few days. But they said I needed to see her. That she needs the time to bond.”
“Sweetie, I’m sorry I had to leave earlier. This thing with the bureau…I wasn’t expecting it and the case is just going absolutely nowhere.”
“So retirement is treating you well, huh?”
“No. It treated me like crap. That’s why I was so happy to go back. But the timing, with Michelle and everything, it’s all off.”
“Mom, I’m used to you having that jacked up schedule. I’ve been living with it all my life. It was a good model, you know?”
Kate shook her head and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Let’s not go there, Lissa.”
“Mom, it’s going to happen. I didn’t waste that time and those credits in college for nothing.”
“Didn’t I tell you enough horror stories to keep you away from the bureau?”
“You told plenty of stories. But I think your plan backfired.”
Kate said nothing. Ever since Melissa had first expressed interest in following her mother’s footsteps into the FBI at the age of fifteen, Kate had been terrified. Even after her father had been killed, she had not swerved. In fact, Kate was pretty sure the death of her father had pushed her even harder. It was why she had made the dean’s list at Marquette University and why she had followed her mother’s career so closely.
Kate had foolishly hoped that after having a child, Melissa might change her mind.
But why should it? It hadn’t changed Kate’s mind after giving birth to Melissa.
“We’re not going to talk about that right now,” Kate said. “Instead, why don’t you tell me what that nursery is looking like?”
“Oh, friggin’ adorable,” Melissa said.
And just like that, the subject was changed. They both knew there was an unspoken sorrow between them, the fact that the grandfather would never meet this little bundle of joy. Kate had never come out and asked but she had always wondered if the name Michelle was a feminine approach to Michael, naming the baby after her late husband and Melissa’s late father.
“I do want to say something to you, Mom,” Melissa said. “I want to let you know that it’s pretty bad ass that you’re back at work. It suits you. You could be doing this when you’re seventy and it would seem right, you know?”
“Thanks…I think.”
“I look forward to the day when you can give me some tips of the trade,” Melissa said with a sly smile.
“I told you, we aren’t—”
“Lighten up, Mom. I couldn’t resist.”
Kate rolled her eyes, leaned forward, and kissed her daughter on the head. It was the first time she realized that there were three generations in the same room, huddled on the same bed. Something about it was incredibly moving but, as a mother and now a grandmother, a little intimidating, too.
Maybe because she knew that when she left here, she’d be back on the trail of a man who was killing women—women not much older than Melissa.
With a chill riding down her spine, Kate looked to her granddaughter and then to
her daughter. And suddenly, her work seemed to take on a whole new meaning. She wouldn’t be able to do this forever. And as much as they joked about it, one of these days Melissa would likely end up with a badge and a gun.
And what about little Michelle? Who was to say what the future held for her?
Kate knew she should get going; the case and DeMarco were waiting on her. But with those new thoughts bogging like dead weight in her head, she stayed just a little bit longer, enjoying the presence of family and a moment of peace.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
It was 3:30 in the afternoon when Kate and DeMarco drove back into Amber Hills. The police cars were still parked at the front gates while a few others were parked at seemingly random spots all around the neighborhood. Their search for additional information from the neighbors of the victims was shortened when they discovered that the neighbor to the right of the Thurmonds was not home and the house on the left of their residence was for sale.
However, when they ventured over to Helmsdale Street, where the Hickses lived, they found the neighbor to the right at home. When DeMarco knocked on the door it was answered by a woman of about sixty or so. A tiny little dog yipped at their feet, a breed that Kate couldn’t determine. Something small and fluffy and white.
“Can I help you?” the lady said, her tone wavering between pleasant cheer and suspicion.
Kate showed her badge, the motion like a second sense now. “I’m Agent Wise and this is Agent DeMarco. We’re investigating the death of your neighbor, Julie Hicks. Would you happen to have a little bit of time to answer a few questions for me?”
The old woman’s face lit up for a moment but she managed to rein it back. “Of course,” she said. “Come in, come in.”
Kate and DeMarco followed the woman through her foyer and into a nicely decorated living room. Right away, she introduced herself as Caroline Manners and asked if the agents would like some coffee or tea. When both declined, they took their seats—Kate and DeMarco on the plush couch while Caroline sat in a reading chair.
“As I’m sure you know,” Kate said, “Julie Hicks was not the only one to lose her life recently.”
“Yes, it’s terrible,” Caroline said. Her little dog had leaped up beside her, curling itself into her lap. “I heard about Lacy Thurmond. It’s tragic, given the state of her life. I assume you knew about her husband’s affair?”
“We discovered it, yes,” Kate said. “But how did you know about it?”
“Good Lord,” Caroline said with a boisterous laugh. “Just about everyone in the neighborhood knew about it. I don’t know if she ever admitted to knowing about it, but there’s no way Lacy didn’t know.”
“Did you know who her husband was having the affair with?” DeMarco asked.
“There were rumors it was with his ex-wife. Another rumor said it was with a nurse at the hospital.”
A pretty accurate grapevine apparently runs through Amber Hills, Kate thought.
“Would you happen to have any other rumors you think might have a great deal of truth to them?” Kate asked. “Please understand, we’re not looking for gossip. We’re simply trying to get the entire story as we try to find the person responsible for these murders.”
“Well, Lacy Thurmond was a sweetheart of a woman. I knew her pretty well but not enough to call her a friend. She was very involved in her church and was a good mother from what I understand. It’s a shame her husband was such a miserable excuse for a man.”
“Did you know him well?” Kate asked.
“No. Once I found out he was cheating on his wife, I didn’t care to know anything at all about him.”
“Well, how about Julie, your neighbor? We’ve spoken to some of her friends and they claim to know nothing the least bit negative about the Hicks family. Of course, it’s hard to gauge the honesty of a group of friends. Would you say you could be an impartial party?”
“I suppose. Certainly a better source than those friends she kept. No woman should be that concerned about looking ten years younger than you actually are. Now, Julie and I would speak from time to time if we happened to be outdoors at the same time. She had me over for dinner once or twice last year after my husband passed away. But I wasn’t close with her…not like those idiot friends of hers.”
“Do you know if there was anyone in her life who was close to her that was not in her usual circle of friends?”
“Well, sure. I tell you, the sanctity of marriage means nothing to people anymore, now does it? Julie’s husband was always on the road, traveling. No way to treat a marriage if you ask me. I started seeing this car in front of the Hicks house late at night about four months ago. I thought nothing of it until I saw a man get into it after coming out of the house early in the morning.”
Kate dared to hope this would turn out to be a lead. But it was evident that Caroline Manners was a gossipy old lady with nothing better to do than to pry into the lives of others. She served as a great resource for information but there was no telling how much of that information might be accurate.
“You’re certain of this?” Kate asked.
“Positive. I’ve been getting up with this weak bladder of mine at least three times a night for about two years now. Bladder infection from several years ago just never let them get back to their proper state. So I’m up at all hours. Sometimes when I get up for that four o’clock trip to the toilet, I just stay awake.” She frowned and shook her head. “Sorry. That bordered on the entirely-too-personal, didn’t it?”
“That’s quite all right,” Kate said. “But you say you actually saw this man leaving her home?”
“Yes. I saw him once but I saw the car three different times.”
“Was it anyone you know?” DeMarco asked. “Anyone you’ve seen before?”
“No,” Caroline said. “And I almost thought about taking down the number on the plates. But I didn’t; I figured it’s really none of my business.”
Kate had to bite back a smile at that comment. “Do you recall the kind of car it was?” she asked.
“A newer one. Pretty sure it was a Honda. Gray or silver. Oh, and there is one more thing. Hell, I damn near forgot all about this little detail. When he was coming out, he had a jacket or hooded sweatshirt or something in his hand. He put it on as he was about halfway down the sidewalk. There was a logo and business name on the back of it. Pritchard Auto Glass.”
“Did you get a good look at his face?” DeMarco asked.
“Just the side and just for a second,” Caroline answered. “A clean-shaven man from what I could see. Looked a little young…early twenties, maybe?”
“And how long ago was it when you actually saw him leaving Julie’s house?” Kate asked.
“I’m not sure. No more than a month ago.”
“And what about some of the other friends in her group?” Kate asked. “Can you tell us anything else about them?”
“I’m afraid not. I know that Wendy Hudson has a father in prison and that Taylor Woodward has a drinking problem. She was pulled over for a DUI a few weeks ago…for the second time, the way I hear it.”
Kate nodded and got to her feet. She had managed to pluck one promising bit of information out of the gossipy old lady. She was starting to get the feeling that the entire conversation might slip into pure gossip if they stayed much longer, though.
“Ms. Manners, we certainly appreciate your time,” she said, already taking a step toward the door. DeMarco followed, also seemingly glad to be getting away from what looked to be devolving into a gossip-fest.
“Of course,” Caroline said. The abrupt nature of her tone made it clear that she was disappointed her company was leaving so soon.
The agents made their exit as politely as they could. Caroline stood at the door and watched them get into the car, perhaps already twisting the story for entertaining her own circle of friends later.
“Sweet old lady,” Kate said ironically.
“Or nosy old bitch,” DeMarco countered.
&nb
sp; “Either way, it looks like we got a lead,” Kate said. What she didn’t add was that it was, at most, a weak lead. She kept it quiet though because when a case was offering no clues or leads, even the smallest of breakthroughs could often serve as the motivation needed to get the case moving along.
With that hope pushing her, Kate got behind the wheel and headed out of Amber Hills while DeMarco pulled up the address for Pritchard Auto Glass.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
Broad Street was beginning to thicken up with afternoon rush hour traffic when Kate turned the car into the parking lot of Pritchard Auto Glass. The lot was mostly empty, indicating that this was the slower time of the day for the business. It was set up like an actual auto garage, with bay doors to let vehicles inside the garage where some of the work was done. There was also an open space to the side of the building where a few vehicles were parked, one of which was in the midst of getting its rear window replaced.
Kate and DeMarco walked inside and approached the front counter. One man was inputting a customer’s information into a computer while another smiled widely at them. “Can I help you?” he asked.
Neither of these men were the young man Caroline Manners had mentioned; they were both easily forty or older.
“Yes,” Kate said, getting so close to the counter that she was nearly pressed against it. She set her ID on the counter long enough for the man to see it and then pocketed it. “We’re looking for a young man that likely works here. Maybe in his early twenties or so. We don’t have a name or a clear description, so we were hoping to maybe walk around the place to see if anyone stands out to us.”
“Well, the manager has already left, so I don’t know if I can grant that sort of permission.”
“If you need us to, one of us can call him,” DeMarco said. “But I know it’s getting close to quitting time and I really can’t afford to wait much longer. But if you want to hang around after closing time…”
