A Deeper Grave--A Thriller

by Debra Webb

  “As your partner said,” Hanover said to Bobbie, “the dagger was stolen from me. Clearly I couldn’t have been the one to use it.” He shrugged. “If I’m not a murder suspect, then I suppose you’re here simply to harass me. It’s a shame such hardworking detectives as yourselves can’t find something more relevant to do.”

  “Interfering with an investigation is against the law, Mr. Hanover,” Bobbie said. “I believe the video clip you provided was a waste of resources and time, which you must know could be interpreted as hindering our investigation and ultimately obstruction of justice.”

  He laughed. “Now what would I hope to gain by interfering with your work, Detective Gentry?”

  “Attention. Notoriety.” She shrugged. “I’ve been wondering the same thing. Why would you try to hinder this investigation? What could you possibly know that you want to hide if you’re as innocent as you say? Or maybe someone close to you is attempting to frame you and you’re having so much fun with us you’ve failed to notice the seriousness of the situation.”

  Understanding or something on that order settled across Hanover’s face. “I hear you and a friend took a little road trip. Did you find what you were looking for, Detective Gentry? I’m just full of information about those days. We could talk about it if you like? I have lots more photos that might interest you.”

  Fury rumbled through Bobbie, she wrested it back. “You see what I mean, Detective Devine. We’re here to discuss a multiple homicide case that includes three missing women and Mr. Hanover tries to mislead us.” She glanced at her partner. “I think he’s doing this on purpose, trying to keep us off balance in what he obviously sees as nothing more than a game.”

  “I believe you’re right.” Devine leveled his gaze on Hanover. “Sir, it’s abundantly clear that my partner has lost patience with your impertinence. If there’s anything you’re hiding related to these investigations, now would be the time to share that information.”

  Anger darkened Hanover’s face. “I think we’ve all said quite enough.” He stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m running behind on my next appointment.”

  The assistant appeared to escort them to the elevator as if she’d overheard her boss’s last statement. More likely he had alerted her via a private intercommunication system. Bobbie sent one last look at Hanover before leaving. Prentice led them out of the suite of offices and to the elevator. She watched until they were onboard and headed down.

  When her partner would have spoken Bobbie put up a hand to keep him quiet. She didn’t want to say a word until they were out of and away from this building.

  Two minutes later they were in her Challenger. She started the engine but waited before pulling out into traffic. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the video clip but that unexpected briefing put me off track.”

  “Understandable.” Devine gave her a nod. “I’m thinking we’ve pushed Hanover into a corner.”

  Bobbie agreed. “He knows something he doesn’t want to share. It might not lead us to our perp, but it’s relevant.”

  Devine stared at her a long moment. “Do you really believe he knows the killer?”

  “I hope for his sake he doesn’t because a smart killer never leaves loose ends.”

  Thirty-One

  Boultier Street

  5:30 p.m.

  Nick had waited on LeDoux to call him back since Bobbie gave him the news. The agent had finally sent a text half an hour ago with a time and location. As soon as LeDoux slid into the booth, Nick demanded, “Tell me he’s secure.”

  “He’s secure.” LeDoux motioned for the waitress and ordered a beer.

  “Who gave the authorization for him to be moved?” According to his medical records Weller had no health issues. Nick had checked on more than one occasion in hopes of learning the bastard had developed cancer or some fatal heart condition.

  “The prison doctor.” LeDoux looked him in the eye. “I don’t like this, either, but it happened. The prison has an obligation to provide medical care. I’m certain you’ve heard about the lawsuits over inadequate health care in the prison systems. And we both know the Bureau wants to protect its asset.”

  Nick shook his head. The feeling that the other shoe was about to drop wouldn’t go away. “This is a mistake. You must have realized by now that Weller is behind these murders and possibly the abductions. He’s planning something. This sudden cardiac episode is no doubt part of his plan.”

  “We have him contained.” LeDoux let his own frustration show. “He has more guards than he had in the prison. He isn’t going anywhere.”

  Nick wouldn’t waste any more time arguing with him. “Have you looked into the man, Mark Hanover, Bobbie has been investigating?” Nick didn’t generally share sources with the feds or anyone else but they were running out of time here. “Or her partner, Steven Devine?”

  “Hanover is no one. As for Devine, what’s the problem, you jealous that he’s Bobbie’s partner? The guy is a decorated veteran cop. The whole team around Bobbie is top-notch.”

  Nick ignored the fact that LeDoux had gotten one part a little too right. But Weller...holy hell. Nick couldn’t shake the feeling that the worst was yet to come. “I think you should have a second look at Hanover and a nice long one at Devine and you’d damned well better remind your people to watch Weller closely. Whatever his plan, it will happen soon. He’ll make a move. Count on it.”

  “We have the situation under control.” His beer arrived and LeDoux downed half the glass in one long swallow.

  Nick had given LeDoux a heads-up. There was nothing else he could do.

  LeDoux frowned and reached into his jacket pocket. He removed his cell and stared at the screen a moment before taking the call. He listened for several moments, his complexion going pale. “I’m on my way.”

  When he put his phone away, he set his gaze on Nick. His tone as well as his expression warned the news was bad. “How did you know?”

  Nick searched the other man’s face for some indication of what he meant. “Know what?”

  LeDoux shook his head. “Half an hour ago Weller walked out of the hospital. He’s gone. They’re locking down the city in an effort to catch him. You knew this was going down.”

  Outrage and too many other emotions to name hardened in Nick’s gut. “Any damned fool should have known.” He pushed out of his chair and gave LeDoux a final warning. “They won’t be able to stop him.”

  “You better hope you’re wrong.”

  After all that had happened LeDoux still didn’t understand. There was no force on earth that could change how this was going to play out.

  Thirty-Two

  Athens, Alabama

  6:00 p.m.

  Randolph Weller inhaled deeply of the fresh air. He closed his eyes and lifted his face to the sun. It had been so long. The feel of the warm rays was like a lover’s caress. He would love to stand like this for hours. Alas, he couldn’t quite afford the time just now, but soon, very soon.

  He opened his eyes and surveyed the yard that spread out into rolling pastures. He smiled. He wished he could be in Montgomery to see Bobbie’s lovely face when she received the news. Oh, and Nicholas. If only Randolph could be a fly on the wall when Nicholas was informed that his father had escaped. He drew in another deep lungful of the fresh, country air. It was good to be free. He couldn’t wait to meet Bobbie again without all the formalities of guards and shackles. He so wanted to know her better. Beyond the fact that she had somehow captured his son’s attention, she intrigued Randolph. Rare was the soul who could manage such a feat.

  Soon all who had poked and prodded at his brain within the esteemed FBI would hear the horrifying news about Dr. Randolph Weller’s stunning escape. The whole lot of them would desert their trivial activities and focus on finding him. Not one would sleep for fear of him coming to
make them pay for what they’d done to him.

  Pathetic creatures. Try as they might, they would fail because Randolph would never make the same mistake again.

  He made his way back to the house. He resisted the impulse to remove his shoes and feel the grass beneath his feet. He had one final matter to which he must attend before he completely relaxed.

  The screen door screeched as the cow stuck her head outside. “Randy, you want some lemonade? I just made a fresh pitcher.”

  He produced a broad smile as he reached the porch. “You are too good to me, Anita.”

  She blushed. “Come on in here. I have some family albums I want to show you. My grandmamma died last year and left this place to me. I didn’t tell a soul back in Atlanta. We’ll be safe here for a while.”

  “You amaze me,” he said as he approached the door where she waited.

  She took him by the arm and ushered him inside. “I’ll always protect you, Randy.”

  “You’re far too thoughtful.”

  When she turned to prepare his glass of lemonade, Randolph reached for the cast-iron skillet sitting on the stove. He swung it hard against the back of the cow’s head. She plummeted to the floor like a felled oak, the glass pitcher shattering in the sink, lemonade splattering the counters.

  He knelt next to her and leaned down to speak into her ear. He wanted her to hear his words before she drifted off into unconsciousness. “I’ll be right back, dear. I need to run out to the barn and fetch that ax I saw. You stay here now,” he added in that sickening Southern accent that made her every word so immensely exasperating.

  Randolph left her twitching and jerking on the floor. Perhaps he’d hit her harder than he’d intended. Oh well, what was done was done. He would enjoy the work to come whether she did or not.

  Adrenaline rushed through his veins. It was good to be back.

  As soon as Nicholas heard the news he would understand what came next.

  You will not be able to stop me this time, son.

  Thirty-Three

  Troy Highway

  6:30 p.m.

  Deana Venable’s family would no longer have to wonder if their daughter would be found. Pastor Liddell had discovered her body as she prepared for the Tuesday night Bible study class. Two uniforms had been posted at the entrance to the church parking lot to turn away the folks who showed up for the canceled class. Yellow crime scene tape fluttered in the breeze that had kicked up as the sun disappeared.

  An evidence tech snapped photos of the woman’s body where it lay sprawled across the steps leading up to the altar. A river of blood had made its way down those same steps, fleeing the depraved scene. The victim wore a brunette wig and clown-like makeup, otherwise her mutilated body was nude. Her breasts and labia had been cut away from her body, and lastly her throat had been slashed. Besides the blood, something putrid was smeared on her thighs.

  “Jesus Christ,” Bobbie repeated for the umpteenth time.

  The coroner was en route. Reporters would be right behind her. What better way to make headlines with the ravaged body of a homicide victim than to find one in the house of God?

  Bobbie dropped her head. “I’m sorry I couldn’t find you sooner.” Please let me find Fern and Vanessa before this sick bastard can do this to them.

  Bobbie stood and joined Devine where he was finishing up with Liddell’s statement. Questions whirled in her head. Why murder the last victim he abducted rather than the first? Could this mean Fern and Vanessa were already dead? If they were alive, was he providing food and water to keep them that way?

  Damn it! She wanted to find those women alive.

  Seated on a pew, Liddell dabbed at her eyes with a tissue and peered up at Bobbie. “I have to tell her parents.” The pastor shook her head. “They can’t hear this anywhere else.”

  “Just a few more questions and we’ll take you to Deana’s parents.” Bobbie sat down beside her.

  Devine took his cue and stood. “I’ll see if Dr. Carroll has arrived.”

  Bobbie peeled off her gloves and tucked them into her pocket. “Forgive me if Detective Devine has already asked you some of these questions.”

  Liddell shook her head. “Ask whatever you need to. Anything I can do... God have mercy.” She closed her eyes and started to pray again, her lips moving urgently.

  When she’d opened her eyes once more, Bobbie asked, “When were you last here—before you found her?”

  Liddell dabbed at her eyes again. “Yesterday. I’m usually here several hours every day, but today I had hospital visits.” A faint smile trembled across her lips. “Then I hurried home to bake the cookies for tonight. I like to prepare something special for the ones who make the extra effort to come to the Bible study after a long day at work.”

  Bobbie waited for her to continue. Outrage swam in her veins. She wanted to get this guy. She wanted to go to Atlanta and shove her Glock in Weller’s face and demand some answers.

  “I was taking the cookies to the kitchen.” She gestured to a side door that led to the corridor that joined the church to the fellowship hall. “I always come through there.” She laughed, the sound feeble. “The fellowship hall was only added a few years ago and I just never changed my way of doing things.”

  The broken platter and scattered cookies lay at the far end of the main aisle separating the pews, confirming the pastor’s story.

  “Does anyone else have access to the church when you’re not here?”

  Liddell frowned and then nodded. “The church doors are always open.” She gestured to the side door. “That door is locked when I’m not here. Most things a thief would consider marketable are in the fellowship hall.” Fresh tears welled in her eyes. “Anyone can come into the church to pray whenever they like.”

  “I haven’t seen any cameras,” Bobbie said. “Do you have any sort of security system?”

  Liddell shook her head. “The only security I depend on is God.”

  Some days it felt like God wasn’t watching. Bobbie looked toward the altar where Deana Venable’s body had been staged in the most debauched way. Today was one of those days.

  “Ma’am, I know we’ve discussed this before,” Bobbie ventured, “but please bear with me, it’s imperative that we cover all bases.”

  Liddell nodded, the movement jerky.

  “Is there anyone associated with the church or any of its work who has ever given any indication that he or she is capable of something like this?”

  Liddell dropped her head and began to sob. Bobbie struggled for patience. Finally, the pastor composed herself once more. “There was a girl years ago.” She shook her head. “Decades ago. She was twelve and she claimed Mark tried to rape her but—” Her gaze collided with Bobbie’s. “No one believed her. You have to understand that it’s my duty to support this community through the church. The Hanover family gives the kind of money we couldn’t hope to get anywhere else.”

  Fury twisted through Bobbie as she glanced toward the victim. “Do you think Hanover’s money will matter to the Venable family?”

  More of those hiccupping sobs came. Bobbie had no sympathy for the woman. “The girl recanted her story.”

  “I’ll need her name.” If she could get the girl—woman now—or her family to make a statement, that was something she could use against Hanover. It was too late for the family or the victim to seek criminal charges but justice could still be found if they could tie Hanover to these murders. And there was always civil action.

  “The family moved away after that and the girl died. Leukemia I think.” Liddell swiped at her face with the wadded tissue. “The rumor was that Mark’s father gave them a hefty sum of money to go.”

  Bobbie held back the hurtful words she wanted to say. Even if Liddell had been more forthcoming sooner they still might not have been able to save
the woman. Hanover’s sick sexual appetite didn’t make him a killer, but it was one more link to the murders and the missing. There was no question, Hanover had to know the killer.

  “Excuse me, Detective Gentry.”

  Bobbie looked up at her partner who’d appeared at the end of the pew. Had the killer made a mistake this time? “I’ll be back in a moment.” Bobbie couldn’t look at Liddell as she stood and walked away. This was a regret the pastor would have to live with for the rest of her life.

  Devine ushered Bobbie to the entrance doors, well out of hearing range of anyone in the church. “Owens called.”

  Bobbie automatically checked her cell. She’d put it on vibrate when she’d arrived but she hadn’t felt it go off. Sure enough she had a missed call from the lieutenant. “We need to find Hanover.” She tucked her phone back on her belt and shook her head. “Liddell just told me—”

  “Bobbie,” Devine interrupted, “a nurse from the prison in Atlanta is missing. They think she helped orchestrate the escape.”

  Devine’s eyes were wide with disbelief or shock but Bobbie didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. “What’re you talking about? What escape?”

  Her partner made a face that said he was even more surprised by her answer. “Owens called to tell you Randolph Weller escaped.”

  Gardendale Drive

  8:00 p.m.

  Devine dropped Bobbie off at her house. She had tried to call Nick but he hadn’t answered and he hadn’t called her back.

  She and Devine had been to Hanover’s home and his office. The housekeeper, the assistant—no one knew where the hell he was so a BOLO had been issued. Bobbie felt sick at the very core of her being. Carroll had called to say the creamy gunk smeared on Venable’s thighs was decayed human tissue. The corpse the tissue came from was likely in its putrefaction stage. Thankfully Carroll had found no indication that Deana had been sexually assaulted. But where the hell had the dead tissue come from? Bobbie shuddered at the grotesque images that came to mind. Carroll would conduct additional testing and get back to her.