Homecoming Homicides

by Marilyn Baron

  “Then he needs you more than ever.”

  “He probably does. But if I take him back, he won’t do anything to help himself. He’s just depressed now, and he wants to bring me down with him. He doesn’t really love me. Maybe he never did.”

  “You dated him for four years, Philippa. You were engaged. I thought you two were going to get married.”

  “Well, so did I, Mom. Imagine my surprise when I learned he couldn’t keep his pants zipped.”

  “Philippa, don’t be crude.”

  “Sorry, Mother.”

  “Do you want your younger sister to get married before you do?”

  “If she’s found someone she loves and she’s ready to get married, why should I mind?”

  Talking to her mother was exhausting. Barbara was under the impression that you had to have a man to validate you, and Flippy was trying to extricate herself from all manly ties. The good thing was that Barbara had the attention span of a gnat. She was already on to the next topic.

  “Tell me more about Luke.”

  “Lucas is just a friend, Mother. You wouldn’t like him.”

  “Why not?”

  “He works at the city police department.”

  “He’s a cop?”

  “A part-time cop,” Flippy said.

  After enduring what could only be interpreted as her mother’s moment of silent disapproval, she added, “But he’s going to law school.” Why did she feel the need to defend Luke to her mother?

  “Oh?” At last, a glimmer of interest.

  She thought she’d throw her mother a bone. She could be cruel sometimes.

  “And we’re sort of um, dating.”

  “You’re dating your receptionist?”

  “That’s just temporary.”

  “I know what’s happening, Philippa. You’re trying to get over Jack. That’s understandable. And you’re settling for second best. Very well, then, I will take you and Luke out to dinner. I’m bringing you a housewarming present.”

  How about some money so I can afford to warm the house, Flippy thought.

  “The real reason I’m calling is about your sister.”

  “What about Natalie?”

  Natalie had always marched to the beat of a different drummer. She was the black sheep of the family, which worked out fine for Flippy. It generally kept her off Barbara’s radar screen. Her brother Neil had followed in her father’s footsteps. Barbara, a former Miss South Carolina, had tried her hardest to mold Flippy into her image. But her plan backfired and Flippy had turned out to be a big disappointment to her mother in almost every way. First runner-up was not Barbara’s idea of a success story. Natalie was the wild card. But thanks to Natalie, Flippy wasn’t the biggest screw-up in the Tannenbaum family.

  “You’ll never believe what she’s doing to me,” Barbara whined.

  She had a sinking feeling her mother was going to tell her.

  “She’s engaged. She was going to wait until you and Jack got married, but since that’s not going to happen...”

  Flippy frowned. She was happy for her sister, of course. But miffed that her sister had felt she needed to spare her feelings and wait to get married because she was the younger sister. Well, now she probably figured she’d have too long to wait.

  “You should be thrilled,” Flippy said. “You’ll finally get to plan the wedding of your dreams.” Left unsaid was the fact that her mother had just had to cancel all of her wedding plans and lose a sizeable deposit since Flippy had called off her wedding to Jack.

  “That’s just it. You know Natalie and Hugh both have unusual ideas about life. They can’t imagine spending money on a wedding when there are people around the world who are starving.”

  “Does she want to get married by a justice of the peace?”

  “Not exactly. She and Hugh have looked at some locations for the wedding, and they’ve settled on one.”

  “There are some great venues in Atlanta,” Flippy said, thinking especially of the one she and Jack had picked out for their wedding ceremony—the Atlanta Botanical Garden.

  “They want to get married at a state park,” Barbara said flatly.

  “Are you kidding? Well, there are some great state parks.” She’d never actually been to one. Her parents’ idea of a vacation had been a country in Europe. Roughing it was not the Tannenbaums’ style.

  “It’s called Hard Labor Creek State Park,” Barbara said. “And the wedding is right around the corner. June 13th.”

  Flippy had to stop herself from laughing. She could just picture the invitations:

  MR. and MRS. ANDREW TANNENBAUM

  REQUEST THE HONOUR OF YOUR PRESENCE

  AT THE MARRIAGE OF THEIR DAUGHTER

  NATALIE BROOKE

  TO

  MR. HUGH ANTHONY DIXON

  SATURDAY, THE THIRTEENTH OF JUNE

  TWO THOUSAND AND FOURTEEN

  AT FOUR O’CLOCK IN THE AFTERNOON

  AT

  HARD LABOR CREEK STATE PARK

  Barbara must be horrified. It was priceless.

  “Where is this park?” Flippy asked wickedly.

  “It’s in North Georgia. It’s some kind of a Boy Scout camp, I think.”

  Oh, my God. Flippy was having trouble keeping it together. Go Natalie. You finally stuck it to Mom.

  “Well, Mom, maybe it’s a nice state park,” she offered.

  “I’ve seen it. They want to get married at a campsite.”

  “That sounds lovely. I’m sure it’s a nice wooded setting. The name implies there must be a creek.”

  “It’s a campground, Philippa. It has picnic shelters.” She could feel her mother shudder over the telephone line.

  “Well, you know, you could have it catered.”

  “She won’t allow me to spend money on food. She says her friends are going to provide peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches for the reception.”

  This was getting better and better.

  “There are communal bathrooms,” Barbara added.

  “Mom, is this a joke?”

  “No, it most definitely is not. She’s not budging. I thought after we talk this weekend you could call her and talk her out of it.”

  “Mom, this is between Natalie and Hugh. It’s their wedding.”

  “I know, and Hugh is a wonderful boy. He’s a great influence on your sister. I adore him. But instead of registering, they want guests to make a donation to a charity.”

  “Well, that’s a nice sentiment. Hugh is a good person.”

  “And they want your father and me to take the money we would have spent on the wedding and donate it, too.”

  Silence.

  “Mom, I know you’re disappointed. I know how much this wedding must mean to you—I mean, since mine is off the table.” Didn’t her sister know that weddings are mostly for mothers?

  “Philippa, I don’t know why she hates me.”

  “This has nothing to do with you.”

  “She’s always hated me. You both have.”

  “Mom, that’s not true. I’m sure we can compromise.”

  “You haven’t heard the worst. She doesn’t want paper invitations. Save the trees and all that. They want to e-mail the invitations and have the guests send their RSVPs only by e-mail.”

  Now Natalie had gone too far. Flippy tried to salvage the situation.

  “Is there a city near the park?”

  “It’s near Madison, Georgia.”

  “Well, there you go. Madison is a beautiful town. They have lovely bed-and-breakfasts and quaint little inns and fine restaurants. Maybe the guests could stay in Madison and you could turn this into a destination wedding. Doesn’t that sound promising?”

  “She wants the guests to stay at the campground and cook out for all the meals. I refuse to stay in a campground. I have to draw the line somewhere. I can’t invite our friends to a campground. Your father agrees with me on this. And that’s not all.”

  “There’s more?” Flippy said, stifling a giggle.
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  “After the wedding they’re joining World Teach and moving to American Samoa.”

  “I thought Hugh just got a job as a receptionist at a doctor’s office.”

  “He did, but that was just to earn some extra money, and he quit after one day.”

  “Why?”

  “They asked him to do some filing and the files were color coded.”

  “So?”

  “Hugh is color blind.”

  “Oh,” Flippy said, grinning.

  “After the wedding, they’re moving to some place called Pago Pago for a whole year, and I know I’ll never see her again,” Barbara complained.

  Flippy had stopped being shocked at anything Natalie did a long time ago and instead always tried to make lemonade out of lemons, a trick at which she was very accomplished by now.

  “Mom, it’s just a year.”

  “Did you hear what I just said, Philippa? Pago Pago. And they’re not even going to stay in Pago Pago. They’re going to be teaching in one of the out islands. Manu’a.”

  “Manure?” Flippy spit, trying to squelch a laugh.

  “Manu’a!” Barbara corrected. “It takes eight hours to get there by boat. Probably a canoe. Natalie says that the leading cause of death in American Samoa is falling coconuts.”

  “She’s just joking with you,” Flippy said, snickering.

  “No, I looked it up. It’s true. My daughter is going to be killed by a falling coconut.”

  “But I’ll bet the surfing is fantastic,” Flippy offered.

  “Philippa, stop trying to put a positive spin on the situation. There is no upside or bright side. There’s nothing remotely salvageable about this. I’m in a crisis. Aren’t you a crisis manager? I need your help.”

  “I’m a crisis manager, Mother, not a miracle worker. Why don’t you get Dad to talk to them? He’s pretty persuasive.”

  “Your father says if I stick my nose into their business I’m going to lose her.”

  Flippy could hear her mother’s muffled sobs.

  “All right, all right, Mom, er—Barbara, calm down. I’ll talk to her. When is your flight arriving?”

  “Tomorrow, at three in the afternoon.” Barbara sniffled.

  “I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

  “I can’t wait to see you,” Barbara said wistfully, and she actually sounded like she meant it. “And I’m sorry to hear about your friend.”

  Flippy hung up the phone and started cursing.

  “Damn.” Right in the middle of the most important assignment of her career. The timing couldn’t be worse. The last thing she needed intruding in her life right now was her mother.

  Luke popped his head in.

  “Everything okay in there?”

  “Barbara is coming to Graysville. Tomorrow. What am I going to do?”

  “That’s great.”

  “You don’t understand. She can’t see where I’m living. She’ll freak out.”

  “Well, you’re not living there now, are you?”

  She stared at Luke and brightened. The Boy Scout was right. She was currently living in a very respectable, actually, the most respectable place in the city. It was even up to Barbara’s standards.

  “You have a point there. Now all I have to do is move all the rest of my things into your place. She’ll snoop, believe me. Sherlock Holmes is a piker compared to my mother. I can’t just have one suitcase full of clothes. She has to really believe I live there.”

  “What are you going to tell her about me?”

  “I sort of told her that we were, um, dating.”

  “Could prove interesting.”

  “Don’t get any ideas.”

  “Too late,” Luke said. “I’ve already got ideas in my head about you. Does she want to stay with us?”

  “There is no us. And Barbara doesn’t stay with family. She prefers hotels. Even though there aren’t any hotels worthy of her in this city, in her estimation. She’ll have to settle. But she’ll only be here for one weekend. We’ll go out to dinner. You’ll stay away from the condo as much as possible. And she definitely can’t find out I’m involved in this serial killer case. She wasn’t too keen on you being a cop, but she perked up when I told her you were going to law school.”

  “Are we engaged?”

  “Absolutely not. Not yet, anyway. Look, we need to hustle if we’re going to pick up the rest of my things. If we start now, we can pull this off before she gets here. I’ll bring my car too, so we only have to make one trip.”

  “Oh, and by the way, Misty says she’s sorry. She’ll be right over,” Luke reported as he answered his cell phone.

  “Good. I need to go over some instructions with her for the service today. We need to hold it as soon as possible. Traci’s parents are anxious to take her home.”

  “After that we’ve got to go,” Luke said. “The vultures are already at the stadium, picking over the remains.”

  “The vultures?” Flippy wondered.

  “The media. The chief says you’ve got to issue a statement. Then, before the service, we need to hit all the sites where the bodies were dumped. And you said you had some other ideas about future dump sites, so let’s swing by those and take a look.”

  There was so much to do and so little time. She still hadn’t called Jack. He’d want to be at the service for Traci. It would be awkward, but she’d have to see him there. She decided to call one of Jack’s friends and see if he could pick Jack up and bring him back home. She made a quick call.

  “Okay, let me just leave instructions for Misty, and I’ll call her on my cell phone later. We’re running out of time.”

  Chapter Ten

  Miss Congeniality was running out of time. And the clock was ticking for Philippa Tannenbaum, too, only she didn’t know it.

  Rodney took a good hard look at the latest homecoming queen candidate tied to the table in his workroom. She was so beautiful. She hadn’t come around yet. He hadn’t had the heart to wake her up. Like Sleeping Beauty, she was waiting for her Prince Charming to wake her with a kiss.

  Rodney bent down and brushed his scarred lips against the girl’s soft, pliant ones.

  “Time for your close-up,” Rodney purred.

  The girl startled and opened her eyes, realized she was restrained by ropes, and screamed.

  “Hush, now, you’ll wake the dead, darling. I don’t look that bad, do I?”

  The girl trembled and tried to struggle out of her bonds.

  “Who are you?”

  “Your worst nightmare, sugar.”

  Rodney touched her naked breast and she shuddered and screamed.

  “Now,” Rodney said, calmly, cruelly pinching her nipple. “If we’re going to get along, you need to stop screaming. No one can hear you anyway. Not way out here at the End of the World.”

  Rodney held up a silver hand mirror to the girl’s face.

  “You’re all made up, and my brother is going to get some beauty shots, and then we can start the pageant. Donny scares easily, so don’t raise your voice, or I’ll have to cut you.” Rodney drew a jagged knife and held it up to the girl’s face. “I don’t want to have to ruin that pretty little face of yours, yet.”

  Miss Congeniality looked at him with vacant eyes and passed out. The drug hadn’t worn off yet. And he was anxious to get started.

  He hoped this one had more spirit than the last candidate. She had whimpered throughout the whole pageant. Very unprofessional. She was no fun at all. But practice makes perfect.

  He administered the smelling salts, causing the girl to stir again.

  Rodney struck a match and held it up to the left side of the girl’s face.

  She tried to turn, but Rodney grabbed her roughly by the neck to hold her in place.

  “Please don’t hurt me,” she begged in a hoarse whisper.

  Rodney ignored her pleas.

  “Now, sugar, stay still. This will only hurt for a minute.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Flippy and Luke s
pent most of the day making the rounds of the places where the murdered girls’ bodies had been found, retracing the steps of a serial killer, trying to get into his mind. Crystal Ball Kate and Jack had already driven the route with Chief Bradley and were back at the precinct discussing their ideas.

  Flippy and Luke sat in Luke’s car outside the football stadium, studying a campus map, trying to determine where the killer would dump the next body. Once they crossed the body dump sites off their list, Luke’s plan was to visit the potential drop sites.

  “Where do you think he’ll strike next?” Luke asked.

  “What makes you think he will? Maybe he thinks we’re closing in, and he won’t want to take a chance on getting caught.”

  “Oh, he’s not finished, not by a long shot. He’s on a mission, and it’s not something he can control. He’s already killed six girls, he may even have one right now, and there are thirty girls on the list, plus you.”

  Flippy shuddered. “If I had to guess, maybe the B dome.”

  “But that place is a hive of activity,” Luke said. “Remember, it’s basketball season.”

  “But the place is cavernous, plenty of places to hide, you know, the body.” Flippy couldn’t believe she was talking like this, so nonchalantly, about girls she had known so well. “Or he could settle on a quiet place, like the chapel. Kids like to go there during the day, but it’s a pretty spooky place at night. A guy could move around there without being noticed.”

  “The chief has guards posted at those places,” Luke argued. “Let’s drive around and see if we spot anything suspicious. Maybe he’s been there scouting out the location. Or he could be scouting out his next victim. Do you still have the pageant booklet? Any feeling about who might be next?”

  “Other than the girls on the homecoming court, who are already dead, I don’t have a clue as to who would be next. Maybe Crystal Ball Kate can help us out with that one.”

  “Kate insists that you’re going to be the next one,” Luke said. “She hasn’t changed her story since she got here.”

  “He’s not going alphabetically. It makes sense for you to dedicate your resources to protecting all the pageant contestants. Whoever’s keeping track of them is not exactly doing a bang-up job, are they? He’s managed to snatch the girls right out from under us. If we know this psycho is on the loose and we know his targets, we should be able to stop him or catch him.”