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A Killer Among Us

Page 6

by Lynette Eason


  Kit breathed a humorless laugh. “That, my dear sister, is the question of the day.”

  Thoughts swirling, muscles warm and loose, Kit turned the corner and headed back to her house.

  A light green car parked three doors down caught her attention. She’d never seen it on the street before. “I want to take a look at that car.” She didn’t say why.

  Jamie kept pace with her as Kit jogged over and looked inside.

  Empty. Except for the ashtray that overflowed.

  Chain-smoker, she thought.

  “Can I help you?”

  Kit straightened and turned to see a young woman with dirty blonde hair and a baby on her hip standing on the porch.

  “Sorry, I’ve never seen this car before and thought I’d check it out.”

  “My husband just bought it yesterday. Our other one died about a week ago.”

  Feeling a little foolish, Kit said, “I’m a cop. When I saw the strange car on the street . . .”

  The woman grinned. “Ah, I understand. I have a brother who’s a cop. Most paranoid individual on the planet.”

  Kit laughed. “Well, glad you know what it’s like. Have a good day.”

  “You too.”

  She and Jamie headed back to her house where Jamie said goodbye, climbed in her car, and left. Kit grabbed a shower and got ready for the day. She’d give Noah until 7:00 a.m. and then give him a call. They had a case to solve.

  The phone rang and she glanced at the clock. 6:46.

  She snatched it up. “Hello?”

  “Did I wake you?” Noah’s deep voice caressed her ear and she closed her eyes. She really had to get over this attraction to him.

  “Nope. I’m up. What’s going on?”

  “Another homicide.”

  “Where?” All business now, she clipped her cell phone to her side. She noticed he hadn’t bothered calling that one—he’d gone straight to her home number, calling the phone she’d be most likely to answer this time of the morning.

  “The old Peterson estate out on Cannons Road.”

  “Who is it?”

  “A girl by the name of Bonnie Gray. A black-and-white unit is already there. The housekeeper called it in and was all hysterical. Meet me there?”

  “I’m not familiar with that address. Give me some directions, would you?”

  “Why don’t I just pick you up?”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  Five minutes later, he pulled into her side of the drive. Renting the little duplex near downtown had seemed like the best idea at the time. One day soon, she was going to make the time to go house hunting. Settling into the passenger seat, she said, “You must have been really close.”

  “Yeah, I always grab a cup of coffee at the little café over on St. John’s. I was in the drive-thru when I got the call. That one’s yours.” He pointed to the steaming cup in the cup holder nearest her seat. “Cream and sugar are in the glove compartment.”

  “Coffee twice in the same week. Wow.”

  “Anything I can do to help, ma’am.”

  She shot him a grateful smile and opened the glove compartment. As she searched, she asked, “Okay, so what do we know about our dead body?”

  “Just that it’s a female with a single gunshot to the back of the head.” He made a left turn, then a right. Took a sip of the steaming brew and replaced the cup back in the holder.

  “Are Jake and his crew on the way?” Kit added one cream and three sugars. She placed the trash in the little bag looped around the cigarette lighter.

  “They’ll probably beat us there.”

  “What about Serena?” Kit had met Serena, the medical examiner, her second day on the job when she’d been called to a bank robbery. SWAT had taken out the robber and Serena had been called to clean up the mess. Tall, willowy, with straight as a stick, raven-colored hair, and ice blue eyes, she was gorgeous. In no way whatsoever would Kit have pegged her for an ME. And Kit thought she’d long gotten over making snap judgments based on people’s looks.

  “She’ll be there.”

  Three more turns brought them to a large brick, middle-class home in what looked like a quiet older neighborhood. Noah parked behind the coroner’s vehicle. Jake’s van sat at the curb.

  “Why is it called the old Peterson estate?” Kit couldn’t help asking as she climbed from the car.

  “Ages ago, the Peterson family lived out here. It was the biggest, nicest house on the block at the time. Residents still refer to it as the Peterson estate.”

  “So who lives here now?”

  A frown crinkled his forehead. “The Grays. This case is going to be a sticky one.” Before he had a chance to clarify, he was waved into the house.

  Kit followed him up the front steps into a well-lit foyer. Seeing all the action taking place just in front of her, she scooted ahead while Noah stopped to say something to one of the CSU members.

  Camera flashes nearly blinded her, but she ignored them and looked at Serena. “Hey.”

  The woman looked up, sorrow in her eyes. “She’s so young.”

  Kit got a look at the victim for the first time. “Oh my.”

  “Yeah. Her name’s Bonnie Gray. Twenty-five years old and getting ready to graduate from law school.”

  The gaping hole in the back of her head marred the once silky blonde hair. “What a waste.” Forcing herself into objective mode, she asked, “Any sign of forced entry?”

  “No, looks like she let the person in.”

  “So, it’s possible she knew whoever killed her.”

  “More than possible. I’d say it’s likely.”

  “Okay. Anyone else here?”

  Serena turned the girl over and Kit gasped. “Did he . . .?”

  “Yeah. Sick creep.” Most of Bonnie’s nose had been cut off. “Her mother’s in the other room. She passed out when she saw her. The maid heard the ruckus. She had just entered the kitchen from the back door. When she came in the den, this is what she found. I managed to rouse the mother when I got here, but she wouldn’t quit screaming. I know she has a bad heart. I don’t know where she found the breath to scream like that. One of the paramedics finally gave her a sedative.”

  Kit took another look at Bonnie and shook her head. “If that was my kid, I’d need some drugs too. What about her father?”

  “On a business trip to New York doing some research on a case. He’s a criminal defense attorney.”

  “And a very good friend.”

  Kit turned to see a white-faced Stephen Wells staring down at Bonnie. His throat bobbed and she could have sworn there was a sheen of tears in his eyes. And of course, Edward, his intern, stood next to him, looking wide-eyed and a little uncertain.

  And like he might have a weak stomach.

  Raising a hand, he covered his mouth. Then he caught her eye and gave a weak grin around his hand. “I think I’m just going to wait outside.”

  Poor kid. She offered him a sympathetic smile. “Sure, there’s no shame in that.”

  Appreciation at her understanding flashed. He left and she focused her attention on the DA. “Sir?”

  “Bonnie’s the daughter I never had. Her father is my best friend. We went through law school together.” A heavy sigh. “He was so proud she was following in his footsteps.” Another hard swallow. “This is going to hit him hard. Very hard.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “When the address came over the radio, another friend recognized it and called me.”

  Blowing out a sigh, Kit took another look at the dead girl. “We’ll find them. Whoever did this.”

  He looked at her. “I’ll be following this case closely. I want to know every detail when you and Noah know it. I’ll have to keep her father in the loop.”

  “You bet.” Compassion filled her. Along with a strong sense of responsibility. She’d never had a case that would be scrutinized to the nth degree. She’d have to make this personal. And she would. This is what Noah had meant when he said it was going to b
e a sticky case. She looked at Noah and the DA and said, “I’m going to see what I can find in her bedroom.”

  Noah watched his partner talking to Serena and marveled that two beautiful women would choose to wade through death on a daily basis. Not for the first time, he wondered if that was a sexist attitude. Probably. He was smart enough to keep those kinds of thoughts to himself, though. He’d hate to imagine how either woman would react if he voiced them aloud, but he just couldn’t stop from wondering about it.

  He’d already spoken to the DA before the man honed in on Kit and knew this case was going to be the cause of a few sleepless nights. Then again, he prayed they caught the killer before the sleepless nights had a chance to happen.

  He turned back to Jake. “Found anything interesting?”

  “A note.”

  “Really, what’s it say?”

  “ ‘I told you I was the best. Your nose isn’t so high now, is it?’ ”

  “So, he cut off her nose because he thought she was acting superior to him? And the best at what?” Noah asked no one in particular.

  Jake shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe she beat him at tennis or something.”

  “Whoever did this knew her.”

  Kit walked up behind him, the DA on her heels. “Serena thinks that too. No sign of forced entry. I gave her bedroom a sweep and didn’t see anything that would warrant murder. Some really nice pieces of jewelry that set somebody back a pretty penny.”

  “What kind of jewelry?” Stephen asked.

  “You know. Things like a diamond watch, a gold and ruby tennis bracelet . . .” She shrugged. “The kind of jewelry any self-respecting debutante would have on her dresser.” She paused and looked at Noah. “I did find a picture of a young man who could possibly be a boyfriend. It had been turned facedown on the nightstand.”

  “Lovers’ spat?”

  Kit shrugged.

  An officer approached and held up a purse. “I found a student ID and a switchblade with the initials JCM. She went to Wofford Law College.”

  Noah lifted a brow. “Yeah. I know.” He shot a look at the DA, who was still talking to Serena. “Interesting, isn’t it?”

  Kit looked at him. “Very. You think this murder is connected to the one that happened Monday? Walter Davis?”

  “I don’t know, but I sure think it’s worth looking into.”

  “We need to know if the two victims, Walter and Bonnie, knew each other.”

  Noah blew out a sigh and nodded. “I guess we need to head over to the campus and do some digging, start questioning more friends. I want a list of every male student with those initials. Then we can try connecting her to any of them. The list can’t be that long.”

  The officer said, “The knife was open and there’s some blood on it.”

  “Really?” Kit frowned. “Hey Serena, any knife or cut marks on her besides her nose?”

  Serena shook her head. “Not that I can tell. She’s got some defensive wounds on her hands, but nothing that looks like it came from a knife.”

  “Wonder who the knife belongs to?”

  Noah nodded. “We’ll get all the prints we can from it and see who they match up to. In the meantime, I think it’s time to go back to school.” They let the DA know their plans and headed out.

  Twenty minutes later, Noah pulled into the visitor spot in front of the registrar’s office. They needed a schedule of classes in order to start tracking down students who were friends of Bonnie and Walter. Walter’s family had said the young man didn’t talk much about school and didn’t come home often.

  Bonnie’s mother had been so distraught, she’d been able to give them nothing. The girl’s father had yet to be reached.

  Noah and Kit entered the building and gave twin sighs of relief at the blast of cool air. Noah smiled and approached the woman standing behind the barlike counter. Flashing his badge, he said, “Hello, ma’am.”

  Curiosity raised the woman’s gray brows and she smoothed a hand down her khaki slacks. “May I help you?”

  “I’m Detective Noah Lambert. This is my partner, Detective Kit Kenyon. I’m sure you’ve heard about the murder that happened Monday.”

  Sadness crossed her face. “Yes, I’ve heard. I’m Sandra Williams and I knew Walter, but just in passing. He seemed like such a nice boy.”

  Kit shifted beside him. “Do you know who any of his friends were?”

  “No, not really. Like I said, I just barely knew him from when he would come in here for whatever reason. Very polite and well mannered.”

  “Could we get a printout of his schedule and one for Bonnie Gray?”

  A phone rang in the background and the woman glanced at it before jerking her startled gaze back to Noah. “Bonnie?”

  Noah and Kit exchanged glances. “Yes, why? Do you know her?”

  “Yes. She helps out here in the registrar’s office sometimes.” She waved a hand. “Not that she needed the money, but she said she enjoyed the work.”

  “Hey Sandra?” a male voice from an unseen location called. “You’ve got a phone call.”

  She nodded and turned to head in the direction of the voice. A minute later, a young man in his early twenties came to the counter. “I hope nothing bad has happened. Sandra said you needed a couple of schedules.”

  “Please.”

  He nodded and sat down at the computer. Within seconds, the printer whirred.

  Kit held her hand out for the first one. Noah grabbed the second. They placed them side by side on the counter and scanned each one.

  “Huh. No classes together.”

  “Nope, not this time around. Some of the same classes, just different professors.”

  Sandra Williams came back to the counter. “Is Bonnie dead too?” Tears filled her eyes. Kit hadn’t had to say a word. The woman read it on her face.

  “We need to ask you a few questions, if that’s all right.”

  “Sure.” A white tissue dabbed at the corner of a red-rimmed eye.

  “Do you know any of Bonnie’s friends? Who she hung out with? Did she mention anyone when she was working with you?”

  “She . . . um . . . had a couple of sorority sisters she was pretty close to. Megan Lee and Chelsea Bennett. If anyone could tell you what you need to know, it would be one of them.”

  Noah glanced at the young man still standing behind the counter hanging on every word. No doubt the story would be around campus the minute they walked out the door.

  Kit smiled at the distraught woman. “Thank you. We may have some more questions later.”

  “That’s fine. I’ll be here. I’ll want to know when the funeral is.”

  Compassion crossed Kit’s face and Noah knew exactly what she was feeling at that moment. It never got easier seeing grief. “We know where to find you then. I’m sure the funeral will be announced in the paper.”

  She thanked them and turned to disappear into the back.

  Noah looked at Kit. “Okay, so let’s track down Megan and Chelsea and see what they can tell us.”

  The Judge banged his hand against the desk and let out a growl. The disrespect, the humiliation. How dare he? Couldn’t he see she was his? The Judge had chosen her and now this.

  Curses flew from his lips as he thought about how he would get even. And he would.

  Various methods flittered through his mind. He would love to put the gun against the base of his head and pull the trigger.

  But this man was different. Cops were difficult to take by surprise. He knew that from firsthand experience. And while they were easy to fool most of the time, he couldn’t take a chance on messing up a cop killing—and he had to make sure he left no evidence behind.

  It had to be fast, unexpected—and from a distance. A thought occurred to him. If he killed one, he’d have to kill two more. Because it had to be three. If he deviated from three, everything would be wrong.

  The Judge rubbed his lips. So, he needed a plan. A different plan for taking out a cop. Then two more.

 
; He’d come up with one.

  Soon.

  8

  Kit’s rubber-soled shoes didn’t make a sound on the carpeted floor as they headed to find Chelsea Bennett. “Chelsea’s on the second floor, room 208. Steps or elevator?”

  Noah grunted. “Steps, I guess.”

  They found the stairwell and trotted up. Kit examined the numbers on each door and found room number 208 around the corner.

  A quick rap on the door got the attention of the professor. He opened it, curiosity stamped on his aging features. Kit flashed her badge and asked, “Could we speak with Chelsea Bennett please?”

  “Sure.” He turned and said, “Chelsea, would you step outside for a moment?”

  A young black girl in her midtwenties appeared. “Yes?”

  Noah gestured at the empty classroom next door and asked her to take a seat. Kit and Noah flanked her in the desks on either side of her.

  Kit said, “We need to ask you some questions about Bonnie Gray.”

  “Sure, what about her?” Fear flickered. “Is she all right?”

  “Uh . . . no, no she’s not.” Noah cleared his throat. “She was killed sometime this morning in her home.”

  “What?” she screeched, as her eyes darted back and forth between the two of them. Kit laid a hand over the girl’s clenched fist. Chelsea shook her off and bolted to her feet. Tears tracked their way down her dark cheeks. “He finally did it, didn’t he?”

  “What? Who did what?” Noah stood with her.

  “That no good ex of hers. Justin Marlowe.” She paced to the front of the room, then back. A tear teetered on the edge of her chin, then fell to the floor. “He told her when she broke up with him that if he couldn’t have her, no one would.”

  “Did she file a restraining order on him?”

  Contempt dripped from Chelsea’s already black eyes. “Yes, she filed a restraining order.” She snorted. “Fat lot of good that did her, huh?”

  “Well, we don’t know that it was her ex, but we’ll certainly check him out. Do you know where we can find him?”

  “Either strung out in his daddy’s big ole house or on the golf course. He’s into the drug scene. It was the reason Bonnie broke up with him. When she found out he was a user, she was livid. There was no way she was going to be connected with someone who might ruin her career before she even got started.”

 

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