by C. M. Sutter
“You must be Deborah French. I’m Max Sims. Come on in. We can talk in the kitchen.” Max reached out and shook her hand, then moved aside and allowed her to pass.
Deborah French had long brown hair that glistened with the slightest bit of moisture from the outside air. He wanted to smell it then rip it from her head. Those large brown eyes would watch everything he intended to do to her. And that prominent beauty mark on the right side of her full lips? He’d cut that off her face. Max sized her up quickly. She couldn’t weigh more than one hundred and ten pounds.
Easy enough to carry wherever I want to take her.
Max pulled out the chair where his grandmother used to sit and offered it to Deborah. “Here, have a seat. Go ahead and ask anything you want.”
“Oh, okay. You said you’d tell me the kind of food you like. Am I supposed to shop for it or just prepare it? And the light housekeeping involves what?”
He smiled widely, and she blushed. “I buy my own food, so all you have to do is prepare it. The light housekeeping involves washing dishes, vacuuming, and doing laundry—nothing else. Want to start now? It is lunchtime. I have bread, cheese, and baked beans. How about grilled cheese sandwiches?”
“Okay, that’s easy enough. Should I just dig in?”
“Absolutely. What do you like to drink?”
“Do you have soda?”
“Sure do. I’ll get the drinks.”
Max watched as she prepared the sandwiches at the stove, her back toward him. Slipping the ground-up Rohypnol into her soda can was a cakewalk, and it dissolved immediately. He gave the can a swirl. Max put the sodas, plates, and silverware on the table, then placed a napkin to the left of each plate. The melted cheese sandwiches went from the griddle to a platter. Deborah set the platter on the table along with the bowl of baked beans.
“I guess that’s it. Does lunch look okay?”
“It looks perfect, and I’ll pour the sodas. I prefer glasses to cans on the table.”
He noticed how her speech began to slur after fifteen minutes. A double dose worked quickly on someone her size. At the half-hour mark, her head fell into her plate of beans.
“Yep, looks like you’ve had enough.”
Max pushed his chair back and stood, then yanked her head out of the plate by her hair. Her head flopped backward. He slid the plate to the side, wiped her face with the napkin, and lifted her off the chair. He planned to introduce her to his favorite tree in the woods.
Chapter 4
“How did it go at the Sims house?” Clark asked after Jack and I returned from lunch.
Jack huffed sarcastically and took a seat. He rearranged the pen cup and straightened the slew of files on his desk.
“Care to tell me what the huff means?”
“Let me explain, Jack. In a nutshell, I had to draw my weapon on him.”
“What the hell for?”
“I felt we were in imminent danger, boss. When a giant that weighs almost twice what Jack does comes at us with that look in his eyes—”
Jack interrupted. “Yeah, what she said. We gave him a warning to stop, but he kept coming.”
“And he knows we’re returning in two days, right?”
I nodded. “It’s going to be tough getting him to vacate, Lieutenant. I wonder what will happen to all his belongings. He doesn’t have enough time to clear that place out.”
“Not our problem,” Clark said. “He’s had plenty of warnings to leave. Everything will likely be sold at public auction, then the house and buildings will be torn down.”
“I’ll tell you one thing, he isn’t going to leave willingly. I wish he’d just disappear.” I looked around the bull pen. “Speaking of disappear, where did Clayton and Billings go?”
“They went to Waupun Correctional Institution to interview Tony Lynch one last time. If he doesn’t give up the location of Jillian Wiley, he’s getting transferred to Boscobel. He can play with the big boys there.”
“Wow—that place is no joke. I thought USP Atlanta was on the table so he could be near his family.”
“Not unless Jillian’s body is actually found and identified. Tony isn’t getting any deals in advance. You know, Darryl Sims is in Boscobel, and it was your own father that put him there.”
“My dad did? He was a rookie detective twenty years ago, wasn’t he?”
Clark chuckled. “He sure was. We were both pretty green back then.”
“Yeah, and I bet you two have a lot of stories you could share,” Jack said. “Maybe Max is weird because of his old man. Darryl did murder the grandma and mom in the very house Max still lives in.”
“Yeah,” I said, “but wouldn’t that make you want to leave—like a long time ago?”
Clark raked his hands through his hair. “We don’t know what’s in his mind, even now. Max was still a teenager when those murders took place. Even young adults are impressionable, for sure. Could be why he’s a little off himself.”
“What happens if he’s still at the house when we go back?” I asked.
“We’re going in with four deputies and heavy-duty handcuffs. He’s going to sit in a cell for a while until he cools off. After that, if he causes any more trouble, he might become a permanent resident.”
My cell phone rang on my desk. I picked it up and saw that Amber was calling. “Excuse me, guys. I have to get this.” I walked down the hallway to the empty conference room and went inside. I closed the door behind me.
“Hey, sis, what’s the word?” I heard cheering in the background. “Is that Kate?”
“Yes, and we both passed every preliminary exam. We start classes next week. Yay! There’s a laundry list of supplies we need to buy before then.”
I laughed. “There sure is. I’ll help you guys out with that, and I’m so proud of both of you. Which academy are you going to?”
“The closest school is in Pewaukee. We’ll buddy up and ride together every day.”
“I can’t wait to hear more. Both of you meet me at the Washington House at six—my treat. You can tell me everything over dinner.”
“Sounds great. Talk to you later.”
I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face when I clicked off the call and went back to the bull pen.
“What’s up? You look like the cat that ate the canary,” Clark said.
“Amber and Kate just got accepted into the police academy. I’m so happy for them.”
Jack fist-bumped me. “That’s cause for celebration.”
“Then stop in at the Washington House after work and buy them a drink. I’m picking up the dinner tab.”
“Congratulations. We’ll both be there,” Clark said as he returned to his office.
I heard his chair groan when he plopped down.
Jack glanced at the clock.
“Got somewhere to be?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’m going upstairs to interview the punks from the Sanfrony Auto Mall break-in. Maybe sitting in a cell for the last few weeks has improved their memories. Six people were on those videotapes of the break-in, yet we only have three upstairs.”
“Want company? I’m not busy right now.”
Jack jerked his head toward the beverage station. “Sure thing. I’ll call John, and you grab the coffees.”
Jack held the door open and let me pass through with a coffee in each hand. We took the stairs to the second floor, where we exchanged wisecracks with John while a deputy linked up each of our car thieves in an interrogation room.
“Looks like you’re good to go,” John said.
Jack and I entered the first interrogation room and took our seats across from punk number one.
I sipped my coffee then smiled. “What’s up, Manny? Feeling like a bird today?”
He smirked at me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just wondered if you felt like singing. I guarantee you, there are two more of your punk friends in the next rooms ready to tell us a story. First one that talks wins the grand prize.”
“
Which is?”
“That’s decided after we hear the names. Three of your boys haven’t been accounted for yet.”
He stared down at the table without speaking.
“Time’s up. Let’s go,” Jack said.
We rose and walked to the door.
Jack looked back. “You snooze, you lose. We’re moving on to room number two.”
We went through the same process in the next room except we stretched the truth a bit. Actually we lied, but cops were allowed to do that.
Jack started the conversation with Mike Cross. “Here’s your last chance to come clean, Mikey.”
“The name is Mike.”
“That’s what he said, Mikey.” I smirked and elbowed Jack.
Jack went on. “Manny has already given us one name. Actually, he threw you under the bus and said you’re the ringleader.”
Mikey smirked and curled his lip. “Like I believe anything you pigs say. Whose name did he give you?”
“That shouldn’t be your first concern. I’d worry about what he told us about you.” I leaned in and whispered in Jack’s ear, just to unnerve our underage car thief and vandal.
“Yeah, I agree,” Jack said as he opened the folder in front of him. “You could get an additional year or two at the state pen if what Manny said is true. Nice chatting with you, Mikey.”
We pushed our chairs back.
“Fine, I’ll give you the other names, but whatever Manny said is a lie.”
“The names?” I turned to the next blank page of my notepad and waited with a pen in my hand.
Mikey slumped lower in his chair with a mix of fear and defeat written across his face. “John Pensley, Andy Gomez, and Billy Handler—they all live in town.”
I smiled and cocked my head at him. “Now, doesn’t that give you a warm, cuddly feeling to come clean? Jack, call the city boys and have those punks picked up. We’ll get back to you soon, Mikey. I’ll even bring you a candy bar.”
Jack closed the door at our backs as we exited the room.
“Toss them back in their pens, John.” I jerked my head toward the interrogation rooms. “We have all the information we need for now.”
Downstairs, after Jack made the call to the North Bend PD, we returned to our usual routine when we weren’t on an active case—sorting files, signing off documents, and answering phone calls. I was anxious for Clayton and Billings to return from Waupun. With any luck, Tony Lynch would show some empathy for Jillian Wiley’s family and tell them where her body was located.
At four o’clock, I heard the beep of numbers being entered into the keypad on the bull pen security door. The boys were back.
I set my pen down and closed the file folder I was reviewing. Clark walked out of his office and pulled up my guest chair.
“Well, let’s hear it,” he said as he pulled his right leg to rest over his left knee.
Clayton ground his fists into his eyes. “No luck, boss. That bastard won’t tell us anything.”
Clark groaned. “I guess he can go rot in Boscobel, then, and serve his time there. Indiana and Illinois can have him after his life sentence in Wisconsin for killing Tamara Simpson.”
“Okay, guys, I’m heading home to change clothes.” I looked down at my feet. “And shoes. Guess the muddy driveway at the Sims homestead didn’t bode well for these tan flats. By the way, you two didn’t hear the news.” I grinned at Billings and Clayton.
“Yeah, what’s that?” Billings asked.
“Kate and Amber are beginning their police training next week. They both passed the interviews, background checks, and physicals. We’re having dinner at the Washington House at six. Stop in and have a drink.”
Clayton poured himself a cup of coffee. “Good for them. I bet they’re super excited.”
“Oh, they definitely are. Anyway, I’ll catch you guys later.” I walked out of the bull pen, said good night to Peggy and Jan, and exited the building. The clouds were breaking up, and the sky was beginning to clear. I inhaled a deep breath of spring air. This time of year always made me happy. Summer was right around the corner.
Chapter 5
He watched her as she finally regained consciousness. The sun had slipped behind the two-story farmhouse, and shadows filled the wooded area where she was being held. The rain had stopped, and a light breeze rustled through the budding trees. She lifted her head and looked around, groggy. The realization hit her quickly when she saw him. He sat on a chair in the woods, ten feet away, and smiled at her, a cigarette dangling from his lips. The smoke swirled above his head. Deborah couldn’t move. She couldn’t scream. Ropes held her tightly against the tree’s rough bark, and the ball gag kept her silent.
Max stood and walked over to her. He slapped the side of her face. “Here, let me help you wake up.”
Her eyes bulged with fear, and tears streamed down her cheeks.
He squeezed her face in his large hand. “Pay attention. Now, see this tree over here?” He walked three feet to his left. Her eyes followed. “These marks on the tree show how many women have died right where you’re standing. You’re tied against the sacrificial tree. Don’t you feel honored?” He laughed wickedly and approached her, his face only inches from hers. “This homestead is a killing field, Deborah, and a burial ground. It’s been in the family forever, and now it’s all going away. My old man has been in prison for years because of the cops in the area. I had to pick up where he left off. You understand, right? I have everything ready for you. Check it out.” He heard her rapid breaths and muffled moans as he forced her head toward the pit he had dug in the ground. The hole was the perfect size for a body. “See, nice digs, huh?” He roared out a belly laugh. “That was pretty funny if I do say so myself. Is there anything you want to say?”
The stench of his breath filled her nostrils. She nodded and pulled back against the tree.
He released the ball gag. “Nobody will hear you, so it’s useless to scream. What do you want to say?”
“Why? Why are you doing this to me? You don’t even know me.” She choked through her words.
“Because I like it.” Max plunged the skinning knife into her chest and watched as the life drained from her body. Her eyes remained open and fixed on him. He stared at her until her head dropped to her chest. “Guess that’s my last one for a while.” He loosened the ropes, and her knees folded. Her body fell to the ground, and Max rolled her into the hole then grabbed the shovel that was propped against the chair. He flicked his cigarette butt into the grave and threw the first shovelful of dirt on top of her.
The deed was done, and the earth accepted her body, just as it had with the dozens before her. Max took his seat on the chair and watched as the evening turned to darkness and the stars lit the sky. He had to get the incriminating possessions out of the house. Anything that once belonged to his father and had been passed down to him needed to go. He’d load the van tomorrow. The knife collection and bondage devices had been kept in the barn’s loft twenty years ago when the police raided the farm and took his father away. The collection was never discovered. Max had remained in the home all these years and continued where Darryl left off. Killing was in his blood, and he had learned everything about it from his father at an early age.
Chapter 6
The sun blasted through my window and woke me at six o’clock. My head pounded with every beat of my heart. I squeezed my temples and hoped the pain would stop, but it didn’t. I fumbled with the alarm clock until I found the shutoff button—I didn’t want to hear that shrill blast. A bottle of aspirin was calling my name, but I wasn’t quite ready to be upright.
Bits and pieces of last night came back to me as I lay with my head buried under my pillow—I needed darkness. What started as a low-key dinner held in honor of Amber and Kate’s acceptance into the police academy turned into a free-for-all that could have rivaled any sorority or fraternity’s alcohol-induced party. I chuckled through my pain and tried to remember how I got home. I gradually crawled out of bed.<
br />
With my arms outstretched, I walked forward and used the walls of the hallway for support, just in case I tipped over. Two bodies lay in the family room—Kate on the recliner, Amber on the sofa. They both slept, Kate with her mouth open and Amber with her arm dangling off the couch. I was sure by now she had lost all the blood flow to that limb. I prayed that someone had set up the coffee last night, but my prayers went unanswered. Kate stirred when she heard my banging in the kitchen.
“What’s going on?” She cranked the recliner’s lever and sat up, then groaned. “What am I doing at your house?”
I laughed at the wild mop of hair on her head while I searched for aspirin. “I bet we look the same right now, and I have no idea why you’re here. I don’t remember coming home.”
“Me, either. Is the coffee ready?”
“Can you give me a second? I still don’t have my bearings, and aspirin comes first.”
I heard Amber moan. “My eyelids are stuck. They won’t open.”
“Then keep them closed,” I said. “Where the hell are the aspirin?”
“Probably in your medicine cabinet.”
Kate got up and shuffled to the kitchen. “Go find your aspirin. I’ll make the coffee.”
“Does anyone know how we got here last night?” I asked as I went back down the hallway.
“Jack drove us home, I think. I’m pretty sure our cars are still downtown.”
I returned with the bottle in my hand and passed out the aspirin. “How the hell am I supposed to get to work?”
Kate plopped back down on the recliner. “Call a cab. You and Amber can split the cost since both of your cars are downtown. I walked to the Washington House—that much I remember. But I have no idea why I ended up here.”
After downing four aspirin, I took my coffee and headed for the shower. Maybe a dose of scalding water would revive my brain.
Kate yelled down the hallway as I dressed for work. Thankfully, my headache was starting to subside.
“Jack is here.”
“What?”
