A Killer Among Us

by Lynette Eason

  “What? Yes, I understand the rights, but you don’t need to—”

  “Did you kill her?” Kit asked, deciding to go with the direct approach.

  He paled and began to tremble. “No, I didn’t kill her! Do I need a lawyer?”

  Noah shrugged. “I don’t know. Do you?”

  The young man shook his head. “No. Why would you think I’d kill her?”

  “Because she was scared of you. Why is that, Gordon?”

  Gordon shifted. His eyes darted as though trying to figure a way out. Kit hated to tell him he didn’t have a chance of getting out of this one. But did he kill Susan? That was the question.

  He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple doing a dance up and down his throat. “I swear I didn’t touch her.”

  “Make us believe that.” Noah pulled the keys to the cuffs from his pocket. “If I let you loose, will you promise not to take off again?”

  A sigh rippled from him. “Yeah. I guess I knew this day was coming sooner or later.”

  “Really?” Kit asked as Noah released the cuffs. “Why do you say that?”

  Gordon brought his right hand around to massage his left wrist. “Just a hunch.”

  Kit looked around and spotted two benches facing each other under the shade of an old oak tree. “Let’s go sit over there and have a chat.” It would be quieter than going back inside. A crowd had gathered at the commotion and Kit waved them off. Once the handcuffs were removed, the gawkers seemed to lose interest and filtered away.

  The trio made their way to the benches and Noah slid down on one, legs stretched out before him, ankles crossed. His relaxed posture didn’t fool Kit. She’d been around him enough to know he was ready to move should the need arise. She sat beside him and Gordon chose the opposite bench.

  “Okay, Gordon, why was Susan scared of you?” Kit repeated the question.

  “Because I’m an idiot,” he blurted out.

  Noah lifted a brow. “Explain that, please.”

  With a heavy sigh, Gordon buried his head in his hands, then looked up. “I asked her to write a paper for me.”

  Without blinking, Kit stared at him, silently urging him to hurry it up.

  “She thought I was asking for her help and said sure, she’d be glad to.”

  The light went on for Kit. “Ah. But you didn’t want her help, you just wanted her to do it.”

  A guilty flush made its way up his throat and into his cheeks. “Yeah. When she realized what I meant, she refused.”

  Noah rubbed his chin and studied Gordon. “Let me guess, she threatened to squeal on you.”

  “Yes, she did. And I flipped out. I’ve never done anything like that before. Ever. I’d worked so hard to get to this point. I’m so close to graduating, and because of one dumb mistake, she could blow it all for me.” He blinked rapidly as though trying to keep tears at bay.

  “Sounds to me like you just presented us with a pretty good motive for murder.”

  Gordon jumped up and Noah tensed. Kit found herself ready to pounce too. But there wasn’t any need. The student just raked a hand through his hair and said through clenched teeth, “That’s not why I’m telling you this. I’m trying to make you understand . . .” He looked away.

  Kit pushed again. “So you killed her to keep her quiet.”

  He snapped his attention to her and stalked back to the bench. He sat with a thud and held his hands out in a beseeching manner. “No! Absolutely not. But I did . . . um . . . threaten her . . . sort of.”

  “How did you sort of threaten her?” Noah leaned forward, elbows on his thighs, hands clasped between his knees. His eyes lasered into Gordon.

  Palming his eyes like a two-year-old, Gordon said, “I told her it would be a shame if something happened to one of those grandkids she was always yakking about simply because she couldn’t keep her mouth shut.”

  “Holy . . .” Kit broke off and stared at him. “No wonder she was scared of you.”

  Gordon groaned and leaned forward to cover his face with his hands. “I know! I know.” He looked up and tears glistened. “It was totally wrong. But I was just under so much pressure. I have all these graduating expenses and finals coming up and that stupid paper was due . . .” He swallowed again and lowered his voice. “My dad had a doctor’s appointment. He’s dying and it’s just him and me. I have to take him, there’s no one else.”

  “That’s rough,” Kit said, “but no excuse to threaten a woman’s grandkids.”

  Gordon nodded and swallowed. “I know.” He paused, then sighed. “My dad knows he doesn’t have much time left. His one remaining wish is to live long enough to watch me walk across that stage and receive my law degree. But I’m also working full-time and doing my best to fulfill my intern requirements, studying for exams . . .” He held up his hands in an expression of helplessness. “I kept getting called in to work for this one girl who never shows up like she’s supposed to. I needed the money. I mean between the medical bills and everything I just couldn’t say no. I make close to three hundred dollars a night bartending. As a result, I was getting so far behind in school . . .” He stopped again and blew out a breath. “And that paper was huge. There was no way I couldn’t not turn it in. I thought if I could just get her to write that paper for me . . .”

  He closed his eyes and leaned his head back to stare at the overcast sky. “I couldn’t let her say anything, but I only threatened her—and that just kind of . . . um . . . popped out. I spoke without thinking. But I would never have laid a hand on her—or her grandkids.” He shuddered and sincere regret twisted his features. “I couldn’t. I just messed up royally and I couldn’t fix it.”

  Compassion darkened Noah’s features, and Kit could understand that, but she also felt sorry for a poor woman whose only fault had been not only to be one of the best students in her class but to have a backbone full of integrity too.

  “So why did you run when you saw us?”

  Another guilty flush. “Oh yeah. That. Um . . . I thought you were here about the drugs.”

  Noah sat up straight. “What drugs?”

  “The ones I bought when I thought I was going to explode if I didn’t get some relief from all the stress and pressure.”

  Kit and Noah exchanged a look. “All right,” she said, “where are they now?”

  “I flushed ’em.”

  She sat back. “Why?”

  Gordon looked off into the distance. “Because of my dad. He didn’t raise me that way and would have been terribly disappointed. Every time I tried to swallow one of the pills, I’d see his face, his eyes. I’d hear his voice telling me to be better than those who were weak and turned to drugs.” A shrug. “I couldn’t do it. I finally tossed them in the toilet.” A slight smile crossed his face at that statement and he looked her in the eye. “I slept great that night.”

  Kit smiled back. “Good.” She changed the subject. “Did you know Walter Davis and Bonnie Gray?”

  “Sure.” His brows pulled together. “Everyone knew them. We were all getting ready to graduate. Why?”

  “Do you have any idea who would want to kill them?”

  “No. And I promise if I did, I’d tell you.” He thought for a moment. “I know that Justin Marlowe had it bad for Bonnie. She dumped him and he just couldn’t stand it. He was into the drug scene and she didn’t want anything to do with that.” He shifted and the guilt flashed over his features again. “That’s who I got the drugs from.”

  “Really? That’s pretty interesting since Justin told us he’d sworn off them.”

  “I think he did. I mean, I haven’t seen him using lately. Just selling.”

  Noah glanced at his phone and pulled in a deep breath. “All right, Gordon, you’ve made a couple of dumb decisions over the last few weeks, but it looks like you’ve made a couple of good ones too.”

  Gordon looked at Noah, then swiveled his gaze to Kit. “I tried to apologize to her—to Susan. I tried to tell her I didn’t mean it and that I was sorry, but she w
ouldn’t listen. She’d just start crying and get as far away from me as she could.” He barked out a humorless laugh. “Not that I blame her, but I hope she knew. I was dumb, thoughtless, and about to explode from the stress, but I . . .” He shook his head.

  Noah clapped him on the shoulder. “Here.” He pushed a card into the young man’s hand. “It sounds like you have an awful lot on your plate and that you’re doing a lot all on your own. This is my cell number. Call me if you ever need to. My pastor’s number is on there too. You don’t have to be a member of the church to get help from them.”

  Gordon looked shell-shocked.

  Kit felt a little off-kilter herself. Who was this guy? This cop who seemed to reach out to everyone he came in contact with? This man who turned her insides to mush and had her dreaming of a possible relationship? What in the world?

  After Gordon left, Kit stared at him. “First Heather and now him?”

  He just smiled. “One by one, Kit. One by one.”

  19

  “Who texted you?” Kit asked.

  “We have a task force meeting in thirty minutes.” Noah punched in a response and climbed into the car.

  “So we’re going on the assumption that we have a serial killer on the loose,” Kit stated as she clicked her seat belt into place.

  “Looks like it.”

  They made it to the station with a few minutes to spare. Kit walked to her desk and wondered how many messages she’d have to wade through. Her message light flashed like she knew it would.

  While Noah took care of his own business, she got started on the messages.

  Three were from her mother. Her adoptive mother. But she hadn’t left a message to call her back, just three hang-ups with her number on the caller ID.

  “You ready?”

  Kit jerked. “Oh yeah. Right. Coming.”

  “Are you okay?”

  She shot him a bright fake smile. “I’m great.”

  When his right brow went north, she let the smile slide from her face. She didn’t have to put on an act with him. “I don’t know,” she finally admitted. “My mom called.”

  Concern creased his forehead. “I can cover for you and fill you in later if you need to call her back.”

  Kit considered it, then shrugged. “No, if it was an emergency, she’d have left a message. I’m good.”

  “Okay, if you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure. Let’s go.”

  They headed down the hall to the conference room where Captain Caruthers was already standing at the head of the large table that could seat about twenty people. She spotted her brothers-in-law, Connor Wolfe and Dakota Richards, seated to the rear of the room. She offered a wave and received one in return. Next to them sat two people she didn’t recognize. Probably more FBI.

  Up at the front someone had transferred all of the photos and information on the three victims. Seated next to Noah, Kit studied the wall, her eyes taking in each detail, willing them to speak to her, to tell her what they were missing.

  What was the connection between the three?

  And she had no doubt. There was a connection. Even if she couldn’t see it yet. The bad thing was, it was probably as obvious as the nose on her face.

  The captain started speaking and she forced herself to tune in. “All right, listen up, folks, it appears that we’ve got a serial killer on our hands. As a result, we’ve brought in some help. Some of you will know them. Connor Wolfe and his new partner, Page Duncan, will be joining the investigation. Welcome, Page.”

  Everyone murmured their hellos and nice-to-meet-yous.

  The captain went on. “Also, FBI Special Agent Dakota Richards is back and has brought a couple more agents to help us out. Dakota, you want to make the introductions?”

  “Sure.” Dakota stood, pushed his trademark Stetson back on his head, and motioned to the man and woman seated next to him. “This is Special Agent Drake Mitchell and Special Agent Olivia Clark. They’ve been assigned to help out with the task force. Olivia specializes in profiling and Drake here can do whatever else needs doing.”

  The captain nodded. “Glad to have you here. We’ve got you a temporary office space setup. Dakota’s probably shown you where you’ll be working out of.” They nodded. “All right, here’s the rundown. We’ve got three dead law students, all with body parts that have been cut off. We have a weapon, a pocketknife that may have been used in the first and second murders. We know who the knife belongs to, but no evidence to suggest he was the one who used it on the victims and no prints for us to run.”

  An officer seated near Kit raised his hand to question. “What about a press conference? We need to let the public know what’s going on.”

  “I’m already on that. I’ll be holding that press conference around four o’clock this afternoon. It’ll be replayed on the six, ten, and eleven o’clock news tonight. FOX and CNN and every other news station will probably be picking up the story as soon as the words ‘serial killer’ get out.”

  Kit made note of that on the lined pad in front of her.

  “Has the lab come back with any more connections between the three murders?” This from Dakota.

  “Negative. The only connections are”—he ticked them off on his fingers—“one: the fact that they were all killed execution style with a bullet to the back of the head. Two: they’re all law students. Age and gender don’t seem to matter. Three: they all had body parts removed and left at the scene.”

  Kit murmured to Noah, “We need to focus on the body part thing. That means something to him. If we can figure that out, we’ll have a lot.”

  “Could mean anything, but we could brainstorm some ideas. Maybe Special Agent Clark will be able to shed some light for us.”

  Shifting their attention back to the captain, who’d just shot them a glare, Kit raised a hand.

  He nodded. “Something you want to share with the group?”

  “Sorry, sir,” Kit offered. “I was just saying I think we need to focus on the meaning of the body parts thing.” She looked at Olivia Clark. “Could you work on that first? Try to figure out why he’s chopping off different parts from each victim? Or at least give us some ideas to start with?”

  “Certainly. I’ll review all of the information and keep that in the forefront of my mind.”

  Kit smiled her thanks.

  The captain wrapped it up. “That’s all, folks. Get out there and get this guy. I don’t want him killing anyone else.”

  Kit didn’t either, but she was desperately afraid the killer would strike again before they could catch him. Was he even now scoping out his next victim?

  The Judge laughed as he crossed the street and entered the building. He knew after finding the third body they’d be calling in reinforcements. Maybe even a task force. But they’d never catch him.

  At least not until he’d fulfilled his duty, which included passing judgment on those who didn’t deserve to share his space, much less his profession.

  Law students. And cops.

  He smirked. They thought they were so smart, were so full of themselves. It wasn’t until it was too late that they finally realized they’d never be as smart as he.

  And the cops. He hoped he had them chasing their tails.

  Bonnie Gray had been killed with a stolen gun. A 9mm he’d fallen in love with the minute he’d held it in his hands. The Walther PPK/S, he’d purchased on the black market for about five hundred dollars. Two similar murders, but two different guns.

  He almost laughed aloud as he imagined their consternation at the ballistics reports. The ones from Walter, Bonnie, and the bullet he was sure they found in Kit’s house. Not to mention the one he’d planted in Susan.

  Really, the only reason he’d used two different guns in the executions was because he wanted to see which one he liked better. He thought he might stick with the 9mm. Or maybe he’d just alternate. Whatever. It didn’t matter. The ones to be punished would be dead either way.

  That was the priority. Tha
t they paid for their grievous sins. That they were punished like they deserved.

  Although, one was different. Excitement flooded him. He may have found the perfect woman. The perfect wife. The perfect mother for his son.

  She was smart. She always seemed to smile and she never, ever mocked him.

  Shaking his head, he looked toward the game room. Then again, business could wait. A game of pool might be fun. Might help him relax a little before he tracked down the next guilty one and served up the justice they deserved.

  Alena smiled up at Corey as he held the door to Flannigan’s. “Thanks.”

  His tired eyes seemed to sparkle a little brighter. “You’re welcome.”

  Once settled in the booth, Alena pulled the menu toward her. “How did you find this place?”

  “My uncle told me about it. He and I eat here occasionally.”

  “What do you recommend?”

  “The fried chicken and veggies. They’re good for you.” He flashed her a rare grin and her stomach twisted into knots. She realized how much she liked him all over again. Which was why she had to ask him a tough question.

  Resting her arms on the table, she leaned forward and asked, “Okay, we said we’d shoot straight with each other, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “Am I the only girl you’re seeing or are you dating others?”

  He frowned and the light in his eyes dimmed. “Why do you ask that?”

  “Because you had your arm around Leslie Pritchard while you were walking across campus yesterday. And you don’t even go to school there. So, what’s the deal?”

  “Ah.” He took a sip of tea. “I did have my arm around her.” He reached out, took her hand, and stared deep into her eyes. “But I promise, I’m not dating her. You’re the only girl for me, Alena.”

  Pain darted through her. Could she believe him? Did she dare not believe him? “Then what were you doing with her?”

  He sighed. “I’ve known Leslie since we were kids. She’s my uncle’s best friend’s daughter. Is that confusing enough for you?” He smiled, then sighed. “She asked me to come to the campus to help her out with something.”