by C. M. Sutter
Chapter 45
“Hey, partner, wake up. We’re in North Bend.”
“Huh? What did you say?” I rubbed my eyes and looked around, then pulled the lever on the seatback.
“We’re at the sheriff’s department. Go home and get a good night’s sleep. We’ll be hitting the conference room in the morning. We’ve got a lot of brainstorming to do.”
“Yeah, awesome. What happened to those days where we had the weekends off?” I yawned then rolled my neck to get the kinks out.
“I don’t remember those days. Surely you’re hallucinating.” Jack chuckled and killed the engine.
We both exited the cruiser and crossed the parking lot to our own cars.
“I’d suggest going in and seeing what Jamison and Horbeck know, but then we’d be in there for an hour. A good night’s sleep sounds more appealing right now.”
“I agree. Night, Jack.” I headed to my car and clicked the key fob. The lights blinked twice, and the door locks popped up.
“Night, Jade.”
I exited the parking lot and was thankful for the short drive home—I was exhausted. With a tap of the remote, the garage door lifted, and I pulled in. Inside the house, the lights were dimmed, and a note penned by my sweet little sister lay on the breakfast bar for me.
I’m glad you’re home, sis! Be prepared for a delicious breakfast of pancakes, bacon, and freshly brewed coffee. We have a lot of catching up to do.
Amber’s note made my heart ache. I loved her dearly, but I’d be lucky to enjoy breakfast and a cup of coffee with her before I bolted out the door and headed to work. Criminals didn’t normally take the weekends off, but I wished they would.
I tiptoed down the hall with my duffel bag in hand and closed the bedroom door at my back. A hot shower would be relaxing and hopefully send me off to dreamland. While the water heated, I checked on my beloved birds. Polly and Porky were sound asleep and snuggled side by side on the perch. I left them alone and smoothed the cover over their cage.
I remembered very little after my shower other than scrunching my pillow and burrowing my head under the blankets. Now, the morning light streamed in between the slats on the window blinds. I saw light through my eyelids and forced my eyes open even though it took some effort. The clock was blurry. I swiped at the nightstand for my reading glasses and felt them. I slipped them on and looked at the clock again—6:30. I had plenty of sleep.
With my robe’s belt cinched comfortably around my waist, I stumbled out to the kitchen. I hoped to beat Amber up and at least start the coffee. She sat at the breakfast bar with the morning newspaper, already sipping a cup of the brew.
“Who are you, the Energizer Bunny? Don’t you ever sleep?”
“Yeah, but yoga helps.”
I groaned and poured myself a cup of coffee. “No, thanks. Yoga isn’t quite my thing. Sorry, hon, but I have to leave for work right after breakfast. This Max Sims case just keeps getting worse and worse.” I saw the disappointment written across Amber’s face even though she tried to hide it.
“No problem, I get it. It’s all part of the job.”
I kissed her cheek. “Unfortunately, that’s true.”
“Okay, then, I better start breakfast.”
“And I’ll get showered.”
We enjoyed breakfast and conversation for thirty minutes before I had to leave. I pushed it as long as I could.
“Oh, by the way, Jade, I confirmed everything for Dad’s knee surgery. The doctor wants him at the hospital at seven o’clock sharp Tuesday morning. His insurance cleared the procedure. It’s a wrap.”
I grinned. “I have to give Mom and Dad credit.”
“Yeah, about what?”
“They gave me the best sister anyone could ask for. You’re so responsible, and your cooking skills aren’t half bad, either.”
“That’s all Mom.”
I glanced at the clock on the stove and pushed back my chair.
“Yeah, I know, you have to leave.”
I pulled a napkin out of the holder and wiped my mouth then hugged Amber. “Maybe tonight will be better. I’ll do my best to eat dinner at home with you.”
A half hour later, I was in the bull pen with the rest of the team. The only person not in attendance was Clayton, and he offered to pick up the doughnuts.
Clark paced. “There must have been a crowd at Pit-Stop this morning.”
Billings smirked then fastened the shirt button he’d missed that morning. “He’s probably waiting for the baker’s dozen special to start.”
“And that’s when?” Clark asked, becoming impatient.
Billings checked the time. “Eight o’clock. He should be here any minute.”
Jack and I cleared our desks and listened to voicemails as we waited.
We turned at the sound of the door opening. Clayton’s grin preceded him. “I got the baker’s dozen.”
“Good, let’s get down to business. Everyone, head to the conference room.” Clark pulled the whiteboard out of the coat closet and led the way.
Each of us had our hands full as we followed.
Jack and I explained the chain of events that took place in Green River Falls.
“To be honest, boss, it was a mess, but in their defense, they don’t know Max Sims and had no idea of the family history. His name likely wouldn’t have come up at all if I hadn’t been run down by the idiot and got a good look at him.”
“That begs the question, was he there because of Judge Gardino or because he needed to hide somewhere and that cabin used to be his uncle’s?”
Jack spoke up. “I’m leaning toward the latter. Does Max even know of the judge, or was Theresa a convenient victim? She was intoxicated, according to the bartender at the Last Stop.”
“I have to agree with Jack. If we wouldn’t have come up on the body of the girl in the woods, I might have thought differently. Max was only there a few days, and he had already committed one murder. It’s an addiction with him. I think he was just trolling an easy mark, and unfortunately Theresa Gardino fit the bill.”
“Okay, we can’t change what has happened. What do we have on known associates?”
“He was a recluse, boss. Other than his weekly visits to Darryl, there wasn’t anyone he hung out with,” I said.
“So that’s a dead end? Then go with bank records, credit card transactions, and phone calls.”
Jack stopped writing and looked at Clark. “Max had a burner phone, remember?”
Clark groaned. “Didn’t we get a court order for those records?”
“Nope,” I said, “we went with the warrant for the newspaper ad instead. It was quicker.”
“Fine. Clayton and Billings, you two get on the credit card records and bank statements. Jade and Jack, call WSPF and get transcripts and video of the visits Max made to Darryl in the last month. I’ll get the TV stations to post his picture again on every channel and every newscast.”
“Hold off with that, boss. You’re going to need Marie to do her magic first. I saw Max, and he’s changed his appearance.”
“Really, in what way?”
“He shaved off his beard and cut his long hair. Of course, the height and weight will be the same, but the picture will have to be updated before any news releases are aired.”
“I’ll get Marie on it. I may need you to sit with her and tweak the drawing, Jade.”
“No problem.”
Clark smacked his hands together. “Okay, everyone get busy. Let’s meet back here at noon and compare notes. I’ll foot the bill for lunch. Billings, pass the menu around for Omicron.”
“You got it, boss.”
Marie was gracious enough to come in on a Saturday, which happened to be the same day as her niece’s high school graduation party. She hunkered down in the conference room with a cup of coffee and worked from the photo that was aired last week with no results. I hoped with Max’s current look, he might be more easily recognized. I explained the changes, and Marie began working. She sai
d she’d show me the updated drawing before it was finalized.
Back in the bull pen and at my desk, I waited until Jack was off the phone to talk. He hung up seconds later.
I took a gulp of my cold coffee. “So, who was that?”
“That was the visitor clerk at WSPF. She went through the records for the last month and said Max had signed in twice. The signature on one was questionable, but the video confirmed it was Max. There was a new guard stationed that day that didn’t know him personally. That visit was the last entry they have for Max there in person.”
“That’s odd. When was it?”
“Four days ago. Darryl made an outgoing call that same day at four o’clock that lasted ten seconds and then another one yesterday that lasted ten minutes.”
“So he was telling the truth about talking to Max. Can they track the number he called?”
“Nope, inmates can only use pay phones, and they’re collect calls. They record the conversations, though.”
I rubbed the back of my achy neck. “Yep, that much I know. Are they sending us any audio transcripts?”
“Yeah, they said they’d send them over this afternoon.”
“Good. Looks like Billings has the Omicron menu.”
“Got a minute, Jade?” Marie came around the corner from the conference room.
“Sure, give me one second.” I picked my lunch choice and told Jack to write it down, then I followed Marie.
The right side of the table was covered with drawing paper, facial templates, the original image of Max, several renditions of his style change, erasers, and a box of charcoal pencils. I sat next to Marie as she moved everything aside except the three drawings.
“Is there one that’s closer to his current look than the rest?”
“These are great drawings, considering they’re images of a lunatic murderer.” I studied each closely, then compared them side by side. A few subtle differences showed up in his face shape, eye depth, and nose size from one drawing to the next. I tapped the middle one. “This one is dead nuts on. That’s the current Max Sims.”
“Okay, good to hear. I’ll run a dozen copies off for your files, keep one for myself, and give this original one to the lieutenant.”
“Thanks so much, Marie. You’ve been a great help. Want to stay for lunch?”
She smiled. “Thanks, but I’ll take a rain check. I have a graduation party to get to.” She gathered her drawing supplies and left to make copies.
A half hour later, we congregated in the conference room. White bags filled with partitioned Styrofoam meal containers sat on the center of the table. A stack of napkins three inches thick, along with five tall sodas, accompanied the bags. We sorted through the bags and checked the abbreviations scratched on each container, indicating the meal inside.
My steak sandwich and fries would hold me over until dinner, hopefully at home instead of the table in the conference room.
“Okay, ten minutes, guys,” Clark said as he polished off his double cheeseburger. He still had an extra-large order of fries to finish. “We’ve got to get back at it.”
I slid all the empty bags and containers into the garbage can in the corner. Our sodas and half the stack of napkins were all that remained on the table other than our notepads and pens.
Clark stood by the whiteboard. “Clayton, what did you come up with?”
“Max’s credit card was used a few times at the hardware store in Green River Falls. It looks like he bought camping gear.”
I nodded. “Those were the items found inside the cabin. There wasn’t any electricity running into the property. He left behind a lantern, cooler, flashlight, rope, a shovel, and cleaning supplies.”
“Okay, no help there. Billings?”
“I figured out how he’s supporting himself, boss.”
Clark perked up. “Don’t keep us in suspense, just say it.”
Billings took a long draw of his soda through the straw. “His bank records show a large withdrawal from a trust account.”
“What do you call large?”
“Forty grand.”
“Shit. That can hold him over for a long time. Who in the hell would have left him that much money?”
“Wasn’t he living off his grandma’s money?” Jack asked.
“He was for years, but the banker said that account was emptied out a while back. This trust was from his mother. Max wasn’t supposed to have access to it until his fortieth birthday, unless it was an emergency. Either way, he still had to fork out a couple grand in early withdrawal fees.”
“Good work, Billings. So it looks like all we’re waiting on is the transcripts from the penitentiary?”
“That’s right, Lieutenant, and they’re supposed to show up in an hour or so.”
Clark picked up the stack of papers in front of him and passed them out. “Here are the composite sketches Marie put together. Divide up the counties in the state while we’re waiting for the transcripts from WSPF. Fax Max’s face out to every sheriff’s department in every county. They can forward them to their local police departments. This image is going wide to cover all of Wisconsin. If nothing hits, we’ll spread the net out farther. He isn’t going to be able to hide for long. With his face plastered in every county and on every news segment, it’s just a matter of time.”
I added, “Hopefully, a short matter of time.”
Chapter 46
Jack plunked down. The chair’s leather squeaked as he rearranged himself to find that perfect indented spot. He scooted in close to the desk and gave the mouse a jiggle to wake up the computer.
I glanced at the clock—2:00 p.m.
“I’ll see if that email has come in yet,” he said as he scrolled the roller wheel. “It’s about damn time.”
“It came?”
Jack nodded. “Let’s see what WSPF sent us.”
I rolled my chair around to his side and sat next to him at his desk.
“All right, it looks like they sent two audio files and two video files from the last ten days. I’ll play the oldest phone call first, which coincides with an earlier visit from Max that same day.” Jack opened the file and clicked the play arrow. We listened anxiously as the audio file began.
“What’s the number?”
“Fourteen.”
The call ended abruptly.
“What the hell was that?” I asked.
Jack hovered the mouse over the scrubber bar. “That’s the ten second audio file.”
“So we didn’t miss anything? It was one exchange between them, and that’s it?”
“Apparently so.”
“How weird was that? ‘What’s the number?’ in Darryl’s voice and ‘fourteen’ in Max’s? So that’s definitely code for something, and fourteen is a relevant number.”
“Maybe a room number, or the distance in miles to somewhere?”
I shrugged. “Weren’t there fourteen local women that went missing the years Darryl owned the farm?”
“Yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?” Jack frowned at me.
“Whatever—set up the next audio file.”
Jack closed out the first and opened the second. That file, a ten-minute one, made absolutely no sense to us.
I groaned my anger when I listened to their conversation. “They’re being careful, those dirty dogs. They know the phone calls are recorded, and they’re talking in code. None of that recording makes sense except the part where Max says, ‘Sure did, and her hubby isn’t going to be very happy about it.’ That has to be referring to Theresa’s murder.”
“What do you think the part where Max said he hadn’t ‘found the right vacation spot’ meant?”
“A new place to hide, I guess. Sounds like Darryl is going to call Max back at four o’clock on Monday. We’ll have to get those tapes and every tape going forward until we capture that maniac. Let’s get the lieutenant’s take on this.”
Clark joined us at Jack’s desk, and we played the recordings for him. He agreed with o
ur conclusions.
“They’re definitely talking in code. Did you watch the video files of their visits yet?”
Jack spoke up. “Nope, but that’s next.” He clicked the thumbnail files on his desktop. “The first video was taped the day before Max vacated the farm.”
We crowded in around Jack’s computer monitor. Max and Darryl appeared on the screen in a segregated visitation booth that divided them with a Plexiglas wall. The video showed Max taking a quick glance at the cameras, then he cupped his hands around his mouth to talk through the six-inch screen.
I grumbled. “Nice—he’s hiding his words, and we can’t hear anything they’re saying.”
“Must have been a last-minute meeting,” Clark said. “Those segregation booths are for special visits outside of the normal visiting hours. And that was the day before Max left the farm?”
Jack checked the file. “That’s correct, boss.”
Clark smirked. “He must have needed instructions from Daddy. Let’s check the next one.”
Jack clicked on the second video.
“Check that out!” I pointed at the screen. “He already has his hair cut and his beard shaved off.”
“Good thing his height gives him away,” Jack said. “Clean shaven like that, he could easily blend in with the crowd, otherwise.”
The visit took place in the regular visiting room. Other inmates could be seen in the background with their families. This time Max sat next to Darryl, yet he still covered his mouth to talk.
Jack checked the dates on the audio files again. “Okay, this visit coincides with that ten-second phone call Darryl placed to Max later that day, and it’s the last visit between them on record.”
I added, “That last coded recording from yesterday is the end of it, but Darryl did say he’d call again on Monday.”
