A Killer Among Us
Page 24
Andy, asleep in his crib. The picture had obviously been taken through the window. The blinds were cracked, but the photographer’s intent was clear.
The next picture showed him awake and staring at the window.
Samantha paced and patted the baby’s back. “He took that picture of him sleeping and then another when he was awake. Why didn’t I know he was outside my house? Why didn’t I know someone was watching my child?”
Connor crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. He looked at Kit and drilled her first, then Noah, with his gaze. “Whatever it takes, whatever we have to do, we have to find this guy.”
“Absolutely. That goes without saying.” Kit shoved her desire for revenge to the back of her mind and focused on what they needed to do first. “The photo is date stamped. Look.”
Noah and Connor looked over her shoulder.
“That’s Saturday.” She looked at Sam. “Remember how you said he didn’t sleep well the night before?”
“Yes.” The light went on, then fury sparked her eyes. “He took those pictures Saturday evening.”
Kit squinted. “It looks like he put the camera right up to the window. He may have hit it or made some noise that woke up Andy.”
“He’d have had to have a pretty nice camera to do that. One that could shoot in the dark,” Connor muttered.
Sam shook her head. “I don’t care what kind of camera he had. I want him caught. Now. Did the victims’ computers have anything on them?”
“Nothing related to the deaths,” Noah said. “Nothing that would lead us to a suspect. No threatening emails, nothing.”
“Well, I’m out of here. My bags are packed and I’m ready to go visit Brenda Allen, a friend from college. She lives in Florida. My flight leaves in three hours.”
“I’ll be with her until she takes off,” Connor said, “then I’ll be ready to find this guy.”
Kit blew out a sigh. “All right. Be safe.” She looked at Noah and Captain Caruthers, who’d been uncharacteristically quiet during the discussion. “I want to find Justin Marlowe. Now. Alena is missing and I would like to find her. Alive. Because that’s the only way we’re going to find who’s threatened Andy.” She felt a tension headache building. “That was a very big mistake.”
35
Later, the Judge paced as he considered what to do. He looked at his latest victim. She slept. A peaceful sleep that would soon come to an end. The drug had worked so well with Corey that he’d decided to stick with it. He supposed the authorities would find the spilled glass and realize he’d drugged her drink.
Then they would say he’d developed another “signature.” A serial killer, they called him. Well, he supposed that’s what they had to say. After all, they didn’t know that all this was predestined. Ordained, even.
Alena had let him right in, offered him a drink, and when she’d gone to get the cookies he’d asked for, he’d slipped the roofies in her Coke. Easy as pie.
He hadn’t planned to make her his next victim.
He’d planned to make her his sister. She’d been the one. The kind of sister he’d dreamed about as a child.
Anger suffused him as he thought about her betrayal. Anger at her, anger at himself. How had he allowed himself to be so blind to her true nature? How had she managed to fool him for so long? He’d thought she was his friend, as close to a true sister as he could expect to find. Then for some reason, she turned to Corey.
“Corey, Alena?” he asked aloud to his unconscious victim. “Corey?” Shaking his head in confused disgust, he walked to the other side of the room and sat at the desk. “How could you? You should have listened to your older brother. But you didn’t and now I have to protect you this way.”
She stirred, moaning softly.
The Judge frowned. He hadn’t planned on her waking quite so soon. He looked around and his eyes landed on his father. The old man had just stared at him as he’d carried Alena through the door. Hadn’t said a word since the Judge had arrived. Just stared. With those big wide eyes that watched his every move. And that stupid grin that often turned to mocking laughter. Fortunately, it didn’t bother him anymore. He’d outgrown his tears and desperate need for his father’s love.
The Judge ignored him and tested Alena’s bonds to make sure she couldn’t get loose until he was ready for her. He hadn’t quite decided what he was going to do.
She’d have her chance to fill her role as his baby sister. If she shirked that role or didn’t offer him the gratitude and respect he deserved as her older brother, she would die.
Right now, he had a plan to carry out.
Kit pulled up in front of Justin Marlowe’s home. Noah sat in the passenger seat. “His car is here.”
“And his father is in court.” She breathed out a satisfied sigh. “I checked.”
“I can’t believe it took us this long to track this guy down.”
“I don’t understand parents who let their children just mooch off them. Does Justin’s father really believe letting his son party with his friends all night and sleep all day is going to turn him into a productive citizen?”
Noah shook his head. “I have no idea.”
“What about your parents?” Curiosity tinged her tone. “How do they feel about you being a cop?”
“They . . . don’t really care one way or the other. Look.” He pointed and she turned to see what had captured his attention. Justin. Dressed in a robe and slippers at four o’clock on a Monday afternoon. Checking the mail.
“Now’s our chance.”
They opened the doors to the car and stepped out. Kit called, “Justin, could we have a minute of your time?”
He spun from the mailbox and fear flashed in his eyes. “I didn’t do anything, I swear.”
Kit put on her negotiator’s face. “Hey, it’s okay. We know you didn’t kill Bonnie. It’s all right.”
The young man’s shoulders sagged in relief. “Oh. Okay. Well, good. What do you want?”
“We wanted to ask you about that knife that you admitted belonged to you.”
Nervousness made him shudder. He licked his lips and his eyes darted as though seeking escape.
With a look at Noah, Kit stepped in again. “Okay, could we just go inside and sit down?”
“Inside?”
“Yes. Just to talk. You’re not under arrest and you’re not going to be under arrest unless you did something illegal with that knife. You say you didn’t, that you lost it. We want to know more details about that.”
Justin studied her face, then looked over at Noah. “All right. Come on in. Dad’s not here right now. Is this conversation private? You know, confidential and all that?”
“Of course,” Noah said. “You’re a grown man. We’re not obligated to talk to your father, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”
Justin opened the door and led them into the den. “Just sit here and I’ll go change.”
Did they want to let him do that? Would he run?
She and Noah exchanged a glance. Kit shrugged. “Are you going to run?”
Justin lifted an eyebrow and let out a sad little laugh. “I thought about it. But no.”
“Then go, but don’t take too long, all right?”
“Yeah.”
He turned and made his way up the curving steps to the second floor, disappeared through an open door, then shut it with a soft click.
Kit looked at Noah. “You think you might want to cover the back of the house?”
Her partner considered it. “No, I think he’s all right. If I’m wrong, I’ll do the chase on foot and you can have the car.”
“Deal.” She sat on the couch and looked around while Noah moved toward the stairs, betraying the fact he wasn’t as confident about Justin as he’d sounded. She said, “You never answered my question.”
“What question?”
He knew exactly what question, she thought. “Never mind.”
Noah stood at the foot of the stairs, listening. “I
can hear him up there.”
“Good, at least that means he’s still in the house.” A door opened, then shut somewhere above.
Noah mused, “I wonder where all the help is?”
“They quit,” Justin said from the landing.
“Quit?” Noah asked.
Kit looked up to see Justin had changed into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt advertising some heavy metal group she’d never heard of. “Why?”
“I think they were tired of my father’s rather overbearing manner. In the end, it was just the housekeeper. Dad fussed at her about not cleaning something to his satisfaction, and she tossed a rag at him and told him he could clean it himself.”
“And you delighted in that, didn’t you?” Kit noted.
His eyes gleamed with the first smile she’d seen. “Oh yeah.” Then he sobered. “Okay. The knife.”
“You lied at the police station.”
“I didn’t want my father to know how I lost it.”
He paused and Noah leaned in. “Gambling?”
Shock crossed Justin’s face, then he laughed. “Well, that was easy. Yes, gambling. I like to play pool with the college kids.”
“Why didn’t you finish school? Why drop out?”
He shrugged and sniffed. “It’s ironic. I got into the drugs so I could stay awake and study.” He rolled his eyes. “School was never easy for me. Unlike my father, who apparently was able to breeze through undergrad and law school without cracking a book, I had to study. Constantly. I fell asleep studying for an exam. When I woke up, I had ten minutes to get to that class. I failed the exam.”
“And decided drugs were the answer?”
“Yep. And easy enough to score.” He shrugged. “At first, they helped. Then Bonnie found out about them and dumped me.”
“And then she got involved with someone else.”
Pain twisted his face. “I figured she’d moved on. I just never was able to figure out who it was with.”
Kit and Noah exchanged a look. So, it couldn’t have been Justin who’d sent the pictures to the DA. If he was telling the truth.
He continued. “Anyway, I took the drugs to do better in school and flunked school because I got hooked on the drugs. Dad sent me to rehab and now I’m clean.”
“Right.” Kit shot him a look of disbelief.
“Seriously. I drink and party a little too hard occasionally, but I don’t touch drugs anymore. I can’t afford to.”
“But you can afford to sell them to other students?”
A flush crept up his throat, but he clamped his lips together, and Kit realized she needed to back off in order to get the information she needed. Clearing her throat, she asked, “Why don’t you go back to school?”
He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the sofa. “Because that’s what my father wants me to do.”
“And yet you live in his house and do what?”
“Nothing. Because I am nothing, as he’s told me pretty often.”
Kit winced and Noah’s brows met at the bridge of his nose. His hand reached up to his shirt pocket and he pulled something out. She knew it was a card with his pastor’s number on there. That poor pastor. She hoped he had an associate or two to help him with all the people Noah sent his way!
She couldn’t help the admiration that welled up. One by one. With effort, she focused back on Justin. “About the knife . . .”
“Yeah, I gambled it away in a pool game.” He heaved a sigh. “Dad would have been furious. It belonged to my grandfather—who shares the same initials I do.”
“Who won it from you?”
“A guy by the name of Edward Richmond.”
“Edward? The intern?”
“Yes, well, they’re all interns. But he’s interning with the DA, Stephen Wells.”
“Not anymore,” Kit muttered under her breath. She looked at Noah. “I think we need to pay Edward a little visit right after we find the guy Corey was arguing with during the mock trial. Also, one more question.”
Justin lifted a brow, and Kit asked, “Do you know anything about Alena Pappas and why someone would want to hurt her?” She left off the fact that they knew the killer had her, they just needed a name.
“No, but I think I know who she is.”
Noah held out his iPhone and pulled her picture up. “That’s her.”
The young man studied the picture, then shook his head. “I’ve seen her around. But no, I don’t know much about her. I think she’s friends with Edward. Yeah, she would hang around with him while he played pool. Kind of like his personal cheerleader or something. Then again, it seems like some guy named Porter Haynes was hitting on her the other day.”
“Is that it?”
A shrug. “It’s all I can think of.”
Noah handed Justin the card. “If you need anything, call me . . . or him. I’d be glad to get together with you and tell you how you can really turn your life around.”
Justin looked down at the card and smirked. “Religion?”
Noah shook his head and gave a small smile. “No, no religion. Something way bigger.”
Back inside the car, Noah placed a call to Professor Nelson Moseby while Kit navigated through the back streets to head toward the DA’s office. The professor answered on the third ring. “Hello?”
“Professor Moseby, this is Detective Noah Lambert. We spoke with you earlier about the mock trial and the jury.”
“Right, right. Have you found Corey’s killer?”
“Not yet, but we’re closing in. Could you tell me the name of the young man that Corey had an argument with the day of the mock trial?”
“Ah yes, I ended up calling campus security. I felt sure those two were going to come to blows. His name is Porter Haynes.”
Nick shot a look at Kit. She mouthed, “Porter?”
He nodded and spoke back into the phone. “Any idea where we might be able to find him?”
“I know he lives on campus in one of the apartments, but aside from when he’s in my class, I couldn’t tell you his schedule.”
“No problem, I’ll get it from the registrar’s office. Thanks so much.”
“Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.”
Noah hung up and looked at Kit. “Porter Haynes.”
“Interesting. So, Porter was hitting on Alena, and Edward and Alena are friends. Maybe Edward knows something about all this. You want to track Porter down first or Edward?”
Hesitating, he thought about it. “Let’s go with Edward. I want to see what he has to say about the knife.”
Her phone rang and she grabbed it. Noah listened as she said, “Thank you, I’ll be by to pick it up.”
“What?”
“I ordered a personal cell phone, since mine drowned when I jumped in the river. It’s ready.”
He nodded. “That’s good. We can swing by the phone store, then catch up with Edward.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
She hesitated and he looked at her. “What is it? I can see your brain working.”
“Just . . . thanks for being there, Noah. I appreciate it.”
“Hey, that’s what partners are for.” He glanced at her.
“Just partners, huh?”
A small smile played around the corners of his lips, and he did his best not to break out into a full grin. Giving a nonchalant shrug, he said, “Depends on what kind of partner you’re talking about.”
She tilted an eyebrow at him. “What kind of partner are you talking about?”
He reached over and grasped her hand. Raising it to his lips, he grazed her knuckles, then chuckled as goose bumps became visible on her arm. Placing her hand back on the steering wheel, he said softly, “I think you know what I’m talking about.”
Edward Richmond proved to be easy to find. He answered his cell phone on the first ring and said to meet at the library where he would be studying.
Kit could see the top of his head, his chin tucked almost into his chest. An ope
n book lay in his lap. He looked relaxed and intent at the same time.
Focus, she ordered herself. Ignoring the fact that she still had goose bumps from hers and Noah’s encounter in the car, she kept her gaze on Edward.
They approached him and he never moved.
“Edward?” Kit asked in a hushed voice, acutely aware of the other students working hard to ensure their future success.
He jerked, then looked up and blinked owlishly. When he saw who stood before him, he cleared his throat. “Yes? You’re here already. I lost track of time, sorry.”
“It’s no problem. But is there some place we could talk privately?”
“Um . . . sure.” He looked around as though unsure what to do next, then shrugged and stacked his books. Grabbing his backpack, he said, “We can go outside on the steps.”
Kit flashed him a grateful smile. “That would work great.”
They followed him outside and he led them over to the corner of the steps where he dropped his backpack and sat down, legs stretched out in front of him. “What kind of questions?”
Noah started while Kit watched the kid’s expression. “We found a pocketknife at the crime scene of Bonnie Gray. One that was reported to have been won by you in a game of pool.”
Derision crossed Edward’s face. “Ah, you must have talked to Justin. I’m assuming you traced the knife back to him.”
Kit narrowed her eyes. “Right.”
Edward snorted. “What a loser. Yes, I won it off of him.”
“Wait a minute. You were at the crime scene. Did you see the knife there?”
“No, I never saw the knife. When I saw the body, I got a little nauseous and walked outside to get some air.” He looked at Kit. “Remember?”
“Yeah, I do. So, do you have any idea how the knife would have gotten to the crime scene? Why it would have the victim’s blood on it?”
He frowned. “No. I ended up giving the stupid thing back to Justin. I told him it wasn’t worth anything and I didn’t have any need for a knife that had his initials on it.” His frown tipped into a smile. “I just let him bet it because I knew I could win it and I wanted to see him squirm a little.” Another careless shrug. “But I didn’t keep the knife. You can ask anyone standing around watching the table that day. They all saw me give it back to him.”