“She’s my girlfriend!”
Cramer raced over, flashed his badge, and said, “Let him through.”
The officer complied.
“Where is she?” Todd glared at the detective.
Cramer kept his cool, not wanting to make a scene. And, although he could understand Todd’s apparent distress, Cramer still had to consider him a prime suspect in the murder of Cyndi Gordon.
He pulled Todd over to the side. “She’s still in the condo and I can’t let you go in right now. It’s an official crime scene.”
Todd sighed. “Did he kill her?”
“Yeah, it looks like it.”
Todd put his hands on his head. “Why? Why did it have to be Cyndi?”
“Looks like he might have followed her from the spa.”
Todd’s brows shot up. “What?”
Cramer watched his reaction. “She was at the spa today, wasn’t she?”
“Yeah, she was there. So were a lot of people. That doesn’t mean one of them followed her home or killed her.”
“Maybe not, but right now it’s a working theory.”
Cramer paused as the black body bag with the victim was brought out. He gazed at Todd and thought he saw hurt in his eyes, which may have been real.
Or damned good acting.
“I’m sorry, Todd,” Cramer said. “How long did you know Ms. Gordon?”
Todd seemed momentarily distracted by his thoughts. When he refocused on Cramer, he responded, “Uh, about a month. Why?”
Cramer chewed his lower lip. On the one hand, Foxworth was a friend and neighbor. As far as he knew, they had nothing on him other than his obvious connection to the victim. But a woman was dead and her killer was someone she willingly let in.
Like maybe a boyfriend.
Cramer looked at Todd. “You don’t happen to own a cap, do you? Like a baseball cap?”
“Yeah, I do. I play softball sometimes. So what?”
Cramer had been hoping he’d say no. Instead, his friend had only put himself into potentially hotter water.
“I think we should talk about this at the station.”
Todd stared at him. “Talk about what? You think I had something to do with Cyndi’s death?”
“I’m not saying anything,” Cramer replied. Not yet anyway. “We have to interview everyone who was associated with the victim. Unfortunately, we need to start with you—”
Todd sneered. “Do I need a lawyer?”
Cramer met his gaze head on. “You tell me...”
* * *
Hours later, Quinn sat across from Todd in a coffeehouse. He’d decided to support his friend who had just lost his girlfriend and was also considered a suspect in her death. He knew something about that in ways Todd could not possibly imagine.
“I never thought it would be this hard, man,” Todd said, looking a bit haggard and unshaven. “It’s bad enough that Cyndi was murdered. But for the cops to think for one second that I had anything to do with it—”
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Quinn said. “No one who knows you thinks you could have done such a thing.”
“Dennis Cramer knows me. At least I thought he did. Now he’s treating me like a damned criminal. Meanwhile, the guy who killed Cyndi is still out there.”
“Don’t be too hard on Dennis,” Quinn said. “He’s under tremendous pressure from all sides. He’s just doing his job to make sure all the bases are covered. I’m sure the police will realize they were barking up the wrong tree where it concerns you.”
Todd flashed angry eyes at him. “You mean when another woman is killed?”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“So how do I get back my reputation as an honest businessman?” Todd asked.
“By not freaking out about this as if you are guilty. It’s not like they’ve charged you with anything. Just go about your business and force the police to turn their attention elsewhere.”
“Easier said than done,” Todd grumbled. “Especially when I keep thinking about Cyndi and wondering what her last moments must have been like.”
Quinn thought about that, too. And it wasn’t a pretty picture.
Then he thought about Selene. Would he be able to keep her out of harm’s way? Or would she too eventually succumb to this murderer’s madness?
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
It was nearly six a.m. when Selene woke to the sound of the phone ringing. It took her a moment to regain her bearings, as she had been in a deep sleep. She looked beside her and saw that Quinn was not in bed. At first she was alarmed, thinking his absence was directly related to the chiming of the phone. But she quickly dismissed that, knowing Quinn was often up and at it early for everything from work to running.
Selene grabbed the phone. “Hello—”
“You’ve been a very bad girl,” the distorted voice said with irritation. “You disregarded my warning and now the man you call your husband has killed again—”
Selene’s heart skipped a beat. She’d heard that Cyndi Gordon was the latest victim of The Woods Strangler. She also knew that Todd Foxworth had been questioned by the police, but hadn’t been charged with anything. Now the caller was once again accusing Quinn of committing this brutal crime.
“You there?” the caller snapped.
Selene wanted to hang up, but she couldn’t. Not yet. Not till she tried to get something out of him that might tell her who he was. And what he wanted from her.
“Yes,” she answered. “How do you know Quinn did it?”
“Because I’ve been watching him, suspecting he was The Woods Strangler. I warned you twice before, but you wouldn’t listen.”
“Why on earth would I listen to someone who hides behind a muffled voice accusing my husband of such vile acts?”
The man coughed into the phone. “Because it true, even if the truth hurts.”
“No, it isn’t true! If you had the facts to back you up, you’d take your story to the police instead of continuing to harass me!”
“Call it what you want, Selene. It won’t change a thing. He’s a merciless killer. It ain’t up to me to help the cops and make their jobs easier. Unless you take matters into your own hands, Quinn Herrera will keep strangling women in The Woods every chance he gets. You mark my words...”
Selene shivered. “Who are you? And why don’t you identify yourself?”
He laughed derisively.
Selene imagined it could be Michel. Or maybe that was wishful thinking—sort of. He still seemed like the most likely suspect. There was no getting around the fact that Michel was not happy she had married Quinn and she was convinced he would do just about anything to undermine their relationship.
Including trying to blame Quinn for the murders in The Woods.
“I’m your guardian angel,” the caller said smugly. “Trying to help you help yourself. And it ain’t about the reward money, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s about doing the right thing.”
“Right for who—you?”
“Right for The Woods and all the sweet looking ladies who are trying to stay alive!”
Selene stood up. Enough is enough. “You listen to me, you bastard, whoever you are. Don’t call here anymore! I’m not interested in hearing your lies about my husband or anything else you have to say. Do you understand?”
“You’re the one who has the problem understanding, bitch,” the caller said angrily. “Your husband killed someone last night. Maybe he’ll kill you next. Is that what you want? Think about it...”
The line went dead.
Selene put the phone down. Her hand was shaking so badly that she had to grab it to settle her nerves. After a few minutes, she turned on the television.
The early news was on and a female anchor was talking about the murder of Cyndi Gordon. According to the anchor, police revealed that before a pizza deliveryman discovered the victim, an anonymous phone caller had apparently tipped off the authorities about the crime.
Selene put her
hand to her mouth in dismay. She thought about the caller’s chilling words. His indictment of Quinn. Again.
And the anonymous call to the police.
Were the two callers one and the same?
Had she actually been talking to The Woods Strangler who was pretending to be a concerned citizen just to taunt her for some wicked pleasure?
Selene jumped when she heard the front door close downstairs. Maybe the killer was watching the house. Maybe he hurt Quinn and was coming to kill her.
Panicking, Selene ran to the walk-in closet where Quinn kept a baseball bat. Holding the wooden bat firmly, she waited in the closet. She heard someone mounting the steps quickly. The person moved steadily across the hardwood floor in the hallway toward the bedroom.
Selene’s heart was hammering ferociously against her chest. She held the bat up high, ready to swing it as hard as she could at the first sight of the intruder.
Selene saw a creepy shadow stretching across the floor and up the wall like something out of a slasher movie. Then a figure suddenly came into view and she screamed before focusing on him, bringing the bat down at the same time.
The man, in a defensive position, caught the bat before the wood could make contact atop his head.
“Selene, it’s me, Quinn—”
Selene stopped screaming long enough to catch her breath. It was Quinn. He was perspiring in his jogging suit and running shoes.
“Let me have the bat,” he implored, holding the front end of it. “No one’s going to hurt you.”
Selene continued to hold the bat against his resistance, as though still not sure if Quinn was the enemy. Then she came to her senses and realized he was the man she loved—not a killer. She let him take the bat from her and started to cry.
Quinn wrapped his arms around her protectively.
“Tell me what happened,” he said.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Detective Cramer looked across his desk at Selene. “So tell me about these calls...”
She was sitting next to Quinn, trying to calm her still rattled nerves. After nearly hitting Quinn with a bat this morning, and their belief that he was the target of a vicious smear campaign, they decided it was more than they should be handling alone.
She glanced at Quinn, who nodded at her for support. “The calls are from a man whose voice is disguised.”
“What does the caller say?” Cramer asked.
Selene hesitated. There was no easy way to say that your husband had been accused of being a serial killer.
Quinn spoke up. “He says I’m responsible for the murders in The Woods—”
“What? That’s crazy!” Cramer said.
“Yeah, that’s what I said,” Quinn grumbled. “Looks like he’s trying his best to convince Selene that I’m The Woods Strangler. This morning he scared her so much that she almost hit me with a bat thinking I was the caller or killer—or maybe both—”
Cramer winced. “The press would certainly have a field day with that,” he said humorlessly. “I can see the headline now: The Woods Citizens Against Crime Director Doubles As A Serial Killer. This town would probably never be the same again.”
“Well, let’s hope it doesn’t get to that,” Quinn said. “Of course, the whole thing is absurd!”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Cramer said thoughtfully, and turned to Selene. “Tell me everything you can remember the caller said to you.”
“I’ll try.”
“Wait—” Cramer held up his hand. He asked Geoffrey Rawlings to come in.
Rawlings stood by the side of the desk and peered at Selene, as if he could read her mind or was determined to try.
Holding Quinn’s hand, Selene recounted her conversations with the caller. She tried not to leave anything out, no matter how uncomfortable she felt repeating the tale.
“And you didn’t recognize his voice at all?” Cramer asked.
Selene thought about it, and shook her head. “No, it sounded like he was in a tunnel and covering his mouth at the same time.”
“You think it could’ve been Michel Giovanni?”
“It’s possible, but the caller was careful to keep his identity a secret. I think he knows he can keep scaring me and keep me off balance as long as he doesn’t reveal who he is.”
Cramer nodded. “Anyone else you can think of who might want to scare you or make you think Quinn is behind the murders?”
Selene stiffened. She mentioned Robert Leighton and a few other disgruntled abusers, but couldn’t think of anyone else who might be behind this.
Cramer and Rawlings talked amongst themselves as though Selene and Quinn weren’t there. When they finished, Rawlings gave Quinn a hard look. “Did you know Cyndi Gordon?”
Quinn’s stomach tightened. He had a feeling the investigator already knew the answer. “We met her at Denn—Detective Cramer’s picnic.”
Rawlings seemed unmoved. “Have you ever visited Ms. Gordon at her home?”
“No, never,” Quinn said.
Rawlings lowered his brows while gazing down at Quinn. “I assume you have an alibi for the time of Cyndi Gordon’s death? And, for that matter, for all of The Woods murders?”
Quinn had seen this coming a mile away and felt almost powerless to defend himself. A mysterious and self-centered caller fingers me, and now all of a sudden I’m a viable suspect in the murders. He wondered if the past was coming back to haunt him in ways he hadn’t anticipated.
Quinn sighed and met the investigator’s cold stare. “I don’t know if I have an alibi or not for the murders,” he said. “Forgive me, but since I’m innocent, I haven’t kept track of exactly when and where the murders took place in relation to my daily life.”
“No one’s accusing you of anything,” Cramer said. “But we have to do this by the book, Quinn. You understand, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I get it.” Quinn thought about calling his lawyer, but knew if that didn’t make him seem guilty, nothing would.
“Cyndi Gordon was killed sometime between seven and nine last night,” Rawlings said.
“I was home then.”
“Alone?” Rawlings looked at Selene and back at Quinn.
“Yeah,” Quinn said, glancing at Selene. He didn’t want her to lie for him. “My wife was visiting our neighbor till around ten, I think. I spent the whole time in my office.”
“Office?” Rawlings cocked a brow.
“Quinn works out of his home office,” Cramer said. “He’s a big time mystery author. Writes nonfiction, too.”
Rawlings did not seem particularly impressed. “So he could have conceivably paid Cyndi Gordon a visit, strangled her, and returned home with no one the wiser. No one who could speak up, that is—”
“I don’t like what you’re insinuating!” Quinn snapped, trying to keep his cool, but unwilling to just sit back and be railroaded.
Selene spoke up in support of her husband. “If you’re trying to say that Quinn killed Cyndi, that’s insane! He wouldn’t do that to her or anyone else—”
“Let’s all just calm down,” Cramer said. The Herrera’s were his friends, but he was a cop first and this was a murder investigation. “Rawlings is just doing his job. That means taking every lead seriously. And that includes the information you brought us this morning.”
Selene realized they had set themselves up for this line of questioning, no matter how uncomfortable and ridiculous it was. Now they just had to deal with the implications and hope that they would point in another direction.
Rawlings appeared unfazed by the break in his interrogation. “All right, so no one can vouch for your whereabouts at the time Cyndi Gordon was killed,” he ascertained. “What about the times of the other murders?”
Rawlings went through the murders one by one, asking Quinn detailed questions regarding dates and times.
Selene squirmed in her chair as Quinn either could not recall or indicated that he was likely alone during at least part of the times in question. She wanted to vouch for his where
abouts every second of the day, but realized she could not. Aside from her work at S.A.W. House, the fact that they were capable of being home at the same time for hours without seeing one another—with Quinn often holed up in his office—didn’t help matters any. But that didn’t mean he had anything to do with the murders, even if it seemed to play right into the hands of the crazy caller.
And maybe right into the hands of hard-nosed investigator Rawlings.
“So are you ready to slap the cuffs on me or what?” Quinn looked from Rawlings to Cramer. He hadn’t meant to sound glib, but he also didn’t want to give the appearance that he had something to hide.
“We’re not after you, Quinn,” Cramer said, as if trying to convince himself.
“Could’ve fooled me.”
Cramer leaned forward. “Look, don’t forget you came to us about the calls. Now it’s our job to follow up on it.”
“Got a problem with that, Herrera?” Rawlings asked.
“No, I don’t.”
Rawlings glowered at him. “Good. Then we understand each other.”
There was a moment of brittle silence in the office before Cramer said, “I’d like to put a tap on your phone line, in case he calls again. Is that okay?”
“We’re all for tracing the call, if it can catch him in the act,” Selene said. “He told me that he has no desire to get involved with the police, as if he’s already in trouble with the law. Do what you need to do, Dennis—Detective Cramer...”
He smiled. “We’ll get to the bottom of this one way or the other. Meanwhile, I suggest you both try to stick to business as usual. If the caller suspects anything, he might stop calling—or worse...”
Selene wondered how they could possibly pretend everything was normal, especially when someone seemed so determined to make things as difficult as possible for them.
* * *
After the Herreras left, Cramer asked Rawlings, “So, what do you think?”
Rawlings furrowed his brow. “I think your author and community leader has no rock solid alibi to account for his time during any of the murders. I also believe that by directing this citizens group, he’s put himself in the perfect position to outwit us.”
Killer in The Woods: A Psychological Thriller Page 17
