A Killer Among Us

by Lynette Eason

“The girl who lives in the other half of the duplex.”

  A knock on her front door had her crossing the room to open it. Connor swept in, followed by Dakota and three other officers.

  “Are you okay?” Concern creased Connor’s eyes as he placed a hand on her shoulder.

  Kit nodded and turned as Noah came up behind her. “Yes, we’re fine. We were just trying to figure out who the actual target with this guy is and what we’ve done to earn his attention. I need to check on Alena.”

  One of the officers heard her. “Is that the person who lives next to you?”

  “Yes.”

  “No one’s there. We already checked.”

  “Oh, thanks.”

  Which explained the lack of barking. Roscoe would have been going nuts.

  Dakota, Noah, and Connor stepped outside. Kit walked into the kitchen. The broken window gaped a jagged grin, allowing the heat of the night to roll in.

  Glass lay in her sink, over the countertops, and on the floor. Upon the bullet’s impact, the pizza box had flown from her grasp, hit the wall, then fallen to the floor. She left it there.

  Approaching the window, she ignored the crunching under her shoes and examined the entry point of the bullet. Her eyes judged the angle and followed the invisible line to her wall. She could see the hole it made from where she stood.

  A sound behind her whipped her attention to the doorway. “Hey Jake.”

  “Hey Kit Kat. Whatcha got?”

  “A bullet in my wall over there. Feel free to dig it out. I’m trying to figure out where it came from.”

  “You know I’ll figure that out with all of my handy-dandy investigative tools.”

  She smiled at him, and it felt strange, the upward tilt to her lips. Her jaw felt frozen in place, like she’d kept it clenched too long. When she moved it, it ached. “I know, Jake.”

  “The team is working on that as we speak.” He walked over to the wall that held the bullet and began extracting it.

  Noah came back in and looked at her. “From the angle of the bullet, and this is just a rough estimate until Jake does his thing, we think the bullet came from across the street. Guy was up on the roof of the house.”

  “And yet once again, he missed,” Kit murmured.

  “You think it’s the same guy that killed those two college students? Maybe warning us away?”

  “Could be, I guess. It’s no secret we’re the ones investigating the cases. But, it just seems odd that this guy plants a bullet in the brain of two people at close range, but both times that he’s used a rifle, he’s missed.”

  “Assuming it’s the same person.”

  “True.”

  “I think it might be a good idea to look into past cases and see who’s recently been released from jail who might have a grudge against you or me.”

  Noah nodded. “After we were shot at, I asked the captain if he would have someone start looking into that.”

  Surprised, Kit looked at him. “You did?”

  “Yeah, sorry, forgot to mention it.” He looked away.

  “So, has anyone found anything?”

  “Nothing as of this afternoon. He promised to call if anyone came across something interesting.”

  She studied him. “What are you not telling me, Noah?”

  Rubbing a hand across his eyes, he said, “I’m wondering if I know who is doing this. Then again, it just doesn’t seem possible.”

  Her brows reached for her hairline. “Care to share?”

  Noah blew out a sigh. “I wanted to be sure before I said anything.”

  For the first time since they’d been partners, she felt anger with him. Keeping her cool, she stated, “Well, one of us might not live that long, so why don’t you fill me in.”

  “Of course, you have the right to know.” He stepped to the wall to watch Jake pry the bullet from its plaster coffin. “You remember what I told you about my former partner and how she died?”

  “Yes.”

  “Her husband wasn’t convinced I wasn’t to blame for Lisa’s death.”

  “Ouch,” she sympathized. “Does he have a history of violence?”

  “No. Nothing.”

  “Then what makes you think it’s him?”

  “I don’t know that it is. I just think we need to cover all of our bases, and he seems like a good place to start.”

  She thought about that and asked, “What’s his name?”

  “Skip Cooley.”

  “Then let’s make him our first stop in the morning.”

  “Sounds like a plan. So,” he looked around, “where are you sleeping tonight?”

  Kit turned and scanned the mess in her kitchen. “I’ll pack a bag and head over to Dakota and Jamie’s. They’ll let me hang out with them tonight.” She gestured toward the window. “I guess I could tape it up and stay here, but that wouldn’t offer much security.”

  Noah rubbed his nose. “Let’s do it to keep the bugs out.” He slapped at a thirsty mosquito as Kit found the necessary supplies to close the hole in her window until she could call the glass company. “About your security around here . . .”

  She held up a hand to halt him before he got started. “I know, I know. But this is a rental. I refuse to put money into a security system when I plan to buy a house.”

  “Then we need to go look.”

  She sputtered. “We?”

  “Sure. Why not? We’re going to be together day in and day out until we solve these murders. When you get a little time to look at a place, I’m probably going to be with you, so . . .”

  She shook her head. “I don’t even have time to find anything to look at.”

  “That’s where friends come in handy. I know a guy.”

  Of course he did.

  16

  Noah followed Kit up the walk to a place he used to think of as his second home. Set in a middle-class neighborhood, the two-story brick house looked forlorn. Neglected. The grass needed cutting, the bushes needed a good trim, and dead leaves crackled underfoot as he climbed the steps.

  He’d tried to visit in the days right after Lisa’s death, but Skip wasn’t receptive to the idea. Had been quite resistant to his presence. So Noah had stayed away. But that didn’t stop him from hurting for his grieving friend.

  Kit knocked on the door. “You don’t think he’ll be at work?”

  “Nope. He could be with a client, although he generally doesn’t work on Fridays.”

  “Did you meet him through Lisa?”

  “No, I knew him from church.”

  “Church, huh?”

  “Yeah.” A pause. “What about you? Are you ready to see what it’s all about yet?”

  “Nope.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m still not real happy with him right now.”

  “Hm. So, how are you going to get happy with him if you don’t give him another chance?”

  Another pause. She fidgeted, uncomfortable with the topic. “I don’t think he’s going to answer the door.”

  “Who? God?”

  She laughed. He was glad to hear it. “No, you idiot. Skip.”

  Noah felt his smile slide from his lips. “I guess not. We’ll have to check back later.”

  Kit led the way back to the car, keys dangling from her fingers. “What does he do for a living?”

  “He’s a realtor.”

  She froze. “Not the I-know-a-guy realtor.”

  “He’d be the one.”

  Her frown remained as she opened the door to the car. “Is that wise?”

  “I don’t know. Thought I’d find out.” His cell phone rang and he pulled it out as he slid into the passenger seat.

  Kit cranked the car and put it into gear. “Who is it?”

  “Lyle, the ballistics expert.” He pressed the answer button and spoke into the phone. “Hi, Lyle, what do you have for me?”

  “Bullets. Two bullets specifically.”

  “Do they match?”

  “Negative. The one fro
m Walter’s head was from a Walther PPK/S.” He paused, snickered. “Weird. Walter shot with a Walther.”

  “Lyle . . .”

  “Yeah, sorry, disrespectful. I know. Sorry.”

  He didn’t sound very repentant, but Noah didn’t bother to call him on it. “So what about the other bullet? The one from Kit’s house?”

  Noah could hear papers shuffling in the background. Then, “That came from an M21 Sniper System rifle.”

  “And the guy missed?” Incredulous, he looked at Kit, who lifted an eyebrow at his tone.

  “Lucky for you,” Lyle retorted. “The bullet retrieved from the car matched the one in Kit’s house.”

  “I’m still reeling at the fact that the guy missed.”

  Lyle snorted a choked laugh. “Just some background information. The gun isn’t manufactured anymore. Typically it was used by Navy SEALS back in the eighties before it was replaced by the M24.”

  “So, it’s not one you’d walk up to a guy on the street and buy?”

  “No. Maybe a pawn shop. Someone cleaned out daddy’s attic, came across it, and decided to make a few bucks. But it would have to be registered. I’m guessing he used that gun for a reason.”

  “Because it couldn’t be traced back to him.”

  “Exactly. There’s really no way to tell how the shooter got his hands on it. Could be a zillion possibilities.”

  “All right, thanks.” He hung up and looked at Kit. “One 9mm, one Walther PPK/S, an M21 Sniper System . . .”

  She glanced at him. “. . . and a partridge in a pear tree?”

  “Something like that.”

  “So, are we looking at a weapons expert?” she asked, then answered her own question. “Probably not. He missed. Twice.”

  “Thank God.”

  “Hmm.”

  Noah rubbed his head. “Okay, back to the case. None of Bonnie’s friends seem to have any motive to kill her. I personally would have put my money on the ex-boyfriend. However . . .”

  “I know,” she said and pursed her lips. “His alibi checked out. If you can believe his friends.” Kit passed a slower-moving vehicle and headed toward the campus. “As weird as it sounds, I don’t think he did it. I think it happened just the way he says it did.”

  “Except for how he lost the knife.”

  “Except that.” Kit’s phone rang. She snatched it from the clip on her side. “Hello?”

  Noah watched her listen. Her eyes cut to him and she said, “Thanks.”

  “What?”

  Kit flicked her blinker on and made a left turn. “Another body they think might be related to this case. Another miniature gavel found at the scene.” She blew out a sigh and slapped her hand on the wheel. “I think it’s safe to assume that we have a serial killer on our hands.”

  “Who and where?”

  “Susan Chalmers. A fifty-three-year-old woman found in the trees off I-85. She was buried pretty deep.”

  “Fifty-three? That’s too old. How does she fit in with Walter and Bonnie?”

  “She was on her way to her 7:45 law class last night and never showed. Her husband called in a missing persons report when she didn’t come home and wouldn’t answer her cell. The police went looking for her and found her truck broken down on the side of the road. Cell phone was in the truck.”

  “When did they find her body?”

  “This morning. A cadaver dog sniffed her out.”

  “They brought in a cadaver dog? That fast?”

  “They found the toes from a right foot. Hot pink nail polish.” She grimaced. “They figured the body might be nearby, so they called in the dog. Took him about a minute and a half to sniff her out.”

  Noah studied the road before them. “That means there might be some other motive besides a jealous lover’s quarrel. If this killing is related somehow to the other two, then we need to talk to Captain Caruthers about setting up a task force.”

  “I was thinking along those lines myself.”

  “I want Connor and Dakota in on this.”

  “Along with anybody else you can think of. This guy is killing people left and right.” She paused. “These are all law-school related. I wonder if we should suggest shutting down the campus until we catch this guy.”

  Noah shrugged. “I don’t think shutting the campus down would do any good. The first victim was killed in his dorm room. The next two—assuming this killing is related—were done off campus.”

  “True. But they’re all law students. I wonder if that’s the connection somehow.”

  “Possibly. It’s certainly an educated deduction.”

  Within minutes, they arrived at the scene. One lane of the highway had been closed off. A flashing neon arrow pointed traffic to the other lane.

  Dakota stood to the side, talking into his phone. Serena’s vehicle sat parked next to the wooded area. Kit and Noah exited the vehicle and walked toward the scene. Dakota hung up and greeted them with a grim look. “The captain called the FBI in officially. They gave me the case and the orders to set up a task force.”

  Noah and Kit exchanged a look. Noah returned the humorless smile. “Great minds think alike. Kit and I were just discussing that on the way over here. Because it looks like we’ve got a serial killer on the loose, it’s time for the FBI to give us a hand.”

  “Looks that way. I’ve only been here for a few minutes. Serena’s checking out the body.”

  A sleek black SUV pulled from the highway onto the grass and stopped behind a gray and blue highway patrol vehicle.

  “Who . . .”

  Before Kit could finish her question, District Attorney Stephen Wells opened his door and stepped out.

  “Oh boy,” Noah blew out between pursed lips.

  Oh boy was right, Kit thought. Then the passenger door opened and Edward Richmond, the intern, followed the DA over to them.

  He eyed Kit, then smiled at Noah and held out a hand. “Good to see you again, Detective.”

  “You too.”

  Stephen looked like he’d lost a few pounds in the few days since Bonnie’s death. He said, “Anything new?”

  “Not yet, we just got here. What are you doing here?”

  This wasn’t the first time the man had been to a crime scene, Kit knew, but his deep involvement in the case had her aware that they needed to make sure their t’s were crossed and their i’s dotted. Not that they didn’t do that for every case, but they didn’t usually have the DA breathing down their necks either.

  Stephen said, “I promised Bonnie’s father I’d stay on top of things. When I heard this come across the scanner, I decided to stop in and see if there was a possible connection to the first two murders. Do you have anything?”

  “We were just getting ready to see what Serena had. The victim is Susan Chalmers. She’s a law student.”

  The foursome walked over to see Serena bag something she considered evidence. Noah asked, “Single gunshot to the back of the head?”

  Serena glanced up. “You got it.”

  “Who found her?”

  “Officer Abbott and a cadaver dog.”

  Kit frowned. “Anything else?”

  “Whoever killed her cut off three of her toes from the right foot. The rest were left alone.”

  “Why not cut them all off? Does the fact that he just cut off three mean anything?”

  Noah pondered out loud. “Maybe he was interrupted. Someone drove by and he was afraid of being seen.”

  “Possibly.” Serena shrugged. “Whatever, this is one sick dude.”

  Kit sighed. “So Officer Abbott was the first one on the scene.”

  “Yeah, that’s me,” Officer Abbott spoke up.

  “Can you tell us how you found her?” Edward asked unexpectedly. Kit shot him a glance, but the question was a valid one, so she let it pass.

  “According to her husband, she was supposed to be in class from 7:45 to 9:15. Around 10:00, her husband started getting a little antsy that she wasn’t home, so he started calling her cell p
hone. She never answered.”

  “Because it was on the front seat of the vehicle.” Noah stood by the open door of the truck. In his right gloved hand, he held up the phone he’d dropped into a paper bag. “So it was unusual for her not to answer?”

  “Yeah.” Officer Abbott nodded. “She always called when she started home. Sometimes she stayed after class to talk to her professor, but was almost always home by 10:00 or 10:15 and she always called way before then.”

  “So around 11:00, her worried husband gets in his car and goes looking for her.”

  “Driving the route she normally would have taken,” Kit guessed.

  “Yes ma’am. He didn’t see the truck when he passed by, but it’s hidden pretty well under those trees. Plus it was dark.” He gave a shrug. “He missed it. When he gets back home, it’s around 12:30 or so, and he calls her in as a missing person. He’s already called every friend he could think of, but no luck. No one’s heard from her.”

  “So he reports her missing.”

  “And I get the call. I drive over to his house, take the report, and decide to drive by myself. I never saw the truck either, unfortunately. Then on my way home I decided to give the route one more drive-by and noticed something shining in the morning sun. When I got out to look, it was the mirror of the truck. A little more investigating and I found—” He swallowed. “I found a toe. It was . . . ah . . . fresh. So I called it in. I looked around to see if the owner of the toe might still be alive, but didn’t want to go tramping around too much and mess up the crime scene. I hollered, but no one answered . . .” He gave another shrug.

  “Where’s her husband?”

  “Over there.” The officer pointed to a man who looked shell-shocked. “Bud Chalmers.” Bud leaned against one of the police cruisers. In his midfifties, his pasty complexion didn’t bode well. Kit wondered if he had heart problems that went beyond the brokenness of losing a loved one.

  The DA had been quiet for the most part. Edward had apparently taken his cue and kept his mouth shut after that impromptu question. Stephen motioned that they were leaving and said to keep him updated. She nodded that she would.

  “Mr. Chalmers?” She approached the man, compassion crimping her heart. He shouldn’t be at the scene, but she didn’t have the heart to force him to leave if this is where he needed to be. As long as he stayed out of the way . . .