by Jo Davis
“How did Mark take the news of Vanessa’s murder?” Shane asked his partner. To an outsider, that might seem like a stupid question. To a cop, a person’s body language could be very telling.
Taylor knew what Shane meant. “The poor guy seemed truly devastated. Fell completely apart. Hard to fake that kind of reaction.”
“I trust your gut instinct, but we’ve got a weird connection here,” Shane told him.
All of them agreed that a talk with the boyfriend was in order. Taylor and Chris would conduct the interview while Shane and Daisy watched and listened on the other side of the two-way mirror. Daisy made sympathetic noises about the grieving boyfriend, and asked that the guys not go too hard on him.
For his part, Shane couldn’t wait to watch his partner and cousin shake the apple tree and see if a serpent fell out.
• • •
As Mark Weaver was ushered into the interview room, the door closing behind him to leave him alone for a few minutes, Daisy swallowed hard. She didn’t see how any officer ever hardened enough not to let the grief of the victims’ loved ones affect them. Mark was a total wreck.
He sat listlessly at the table and stared at the laminate surface, eyes red and swollen. Every now and then he’d sniffle, and another tear would trace down his cheek. He was holding himself together by the barest thread, and his suffering was painful to watch.
“Taylor’s right,” she said to the others. “That man isn’t faking.”
“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t know something,” Shane told her in a soothing tone. “Something that perhaps he doesn’t even realize he knows.”
“I get that. It’s just hard to watch someone suffer like this.”
“I don’t see the point in dragging this out.” Taylor looked to Chris. “Ready?”
“You betcha.”
She and Shane watched as their friends left the room. In moments, they entered by another door and approached the table. Mark glanced up at them, hope flaring briefly in his big brown eyes. The conversation sounded clearly over the speaker.
“Do you know who did this to my Vanessa?” he choked. “Did you catch the motherfucker?”
Taylor sat down across from the man, his expression and voice warm and caring. Nothing like his usual sarcasm when verbally sparring with his partner. “Not yet, but we’re working hard on doing just that.”
The light in the man’s eyes was extinguished, and he slumped. “Oh. Then why am I here?”
“We just need to ask you a few questions.”
“Okay.” Mark might be grieving, but he wasn’t unaware of what was going on. He sat up a little straighter. “Wait a minute. Am I a suspect? Do you think I killed Vanessa?”
“Did you?” This from Chris, who wasn’t quite as warm in his delivery as he hovered near the table.
“No!” Mark practically screeched. “She was my life! I would never have thought of hurting her in any way! I love her!”
“Okay, calm down,” Taylor said, playing the nice cop. “No one here is accusing you of anything. We do need to find out what you know, though.”
He stared at them, baffled. “What could I possibly know?”
“Mark, does the name Nikki Thompson ring a bell?” Chris asked.
“Who?” He glanced between the two men. “No, I’ve never heard that name.”
“Then you don’t have an explanation for why a call was made from your cell phone to hers on the night she was murdered?”
“What?” he gasped. “Someone called a woman who got murdered? From my phone? That’s impossible!”
“So you’re claiming you’ve never called Nikki Thompson?” Chris pressed.
“No! I don’t know any girl named Nikki. I—I don’t understand.” Mark was clearly confused. Hurting.
Chris paused for effect. “Nikki wasn’t part of your little sex group at the country club?”
Mark’s eyes widened. The man couldn’t have played poker if his life depended on it. “You guys know about the group? Of course you do.” He laughed without a trace of humor. “You’ve done some of your homework, it seems. So you already know there’s nobody by that name in our group. Would one of you please explain?”
Ignoring the jab, Taylor spoke again. “Nikki Thompson was found murdered at the beginning of the week. We’re confident that Vanessa was murdered by the same person.”
Mark took a moment to digest that horrible news. “I don’t see what that has to do with me, the club, or how a call could’ve been made from my phone to someone I don’t even know. Except . . .” Pausing, he stared at the wall for a few seconds.
“Did you recall something?” Taylor prompted.
“After the evening gets going really good, we ditch our clothes,” he breathed, looking back at Taylor. “We just sort of leave them lying wherever they are.”
Chris started to appear excited, like a hound on the scent of a fox. “That means your pants, wallet, keys, and phone are left discarded on the floor or wherever, for the evening. Unguarded.”
“That’s right.” Mark shook his head. “I gave someone in that group the opportunity to put the blame on me. Maybe to even lure my baby away from me. Oh, God.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Taylor said. “There’s no way you or Vanessa could have predicted anything like this would happen. There’s a predator out there who’s clever, but he’s not going to get away with what he’s doing. We’re going to catch him and put his ass behind bars.”
“Please,” Mark begged. “It’s the only way I’ll ever sleep again.”
“Before you leave, write down a list of names of everyone in that group.”
“Absolutely. I’ll do anything to help.” His voice and expression were eager, sincere.
“We’ll get you a piece of paper and something to write with.”
Standing, both detective shook his hand and then left. Seconds later, both returned to the observation room where Daisy waited with Shane. “What do you two think?” Taylor asked.
Daisy gestured to the stricken boyfriend. “He’s innocent, but he’s connected to the killer somehow. I think it’s someone in that group.”
“I agree,” Shane said. “We have opportunity. Now what we need is motive.”
“And a connection to Nikki Thompson,” Chris put in.
That was the fly in the ointment. Nobody could figure out how she fit in with the big picture. But she would, eventually.
Chris went on. “I’ll pull the phone records for all the names on the club list Mark gives me and go over them with a fine-toothed comb. It’ll take a while, but I’ll be damned if I don’t turn up something.”
Daisy turned to Shane. “Maybe we should go ahead and blow our cover, visit some of our illustrious club members and see if anyone gets a bit too rattled?”
“I like the way your devious mind works.”
“That’s not all that’s devious about me that you like,” she murmured in his ear on the way out.
“You’re so right.” He laughed softly.
After getting the list of names from Mark, they spent a while putting together addresses to go with them. Shane pointed to one of them. “This one’s a PO box.”
“Some people don’t like using their home address for privacy reasons,” Daisy said. “And if the PO box is designated for private use and not business, we’d need a warrant to force the post office to give us the address.”
“Too much red tape. We’ll get it from the club, or one of the other members. Surely someone knows it.”
They decided to start with Ivana and Giorgio, who were a little put out by the deception at first.
“You’re both cops?” Ivana frowned, clearly unhappy. Her lover’s expression was puzzled.
But their tunes changed when Shane revealed the disappearances had turned into something much more sinister. They had never heard of Nikki Thompson, and were horrified by the murders.
“Oh, that poor lamb!” Ivana exclaimed, growing tearful. “Vanessa was such a bright gi
rl, so full of promise. And Mark must be destroyed.”
“We’re going to do everything in our power to catch the monster responsible for her murder, and find Valerie, Dan, and Jason.” Daisy hated that the statement sounded so cliché, but it was sincere.
“I know, love.” Ivana wiped at a tear. “Just do be careful.”
“By the way,” Shane said. “Jimmy mentioned a big shot in your group that he didn’t seem to care for very much, but he didn’t get to finish what he was telling me. Any idea who he was talking about?”
She thought for a few seconds. “I don’t know. Jimmy gets along with most everyone, and I haven’t noticed him disliking anyone in particular. The group does abound with important, powerful men, however. Mark being an exception.”
“How would you categorize Mark?” Daisy asked out of curiosity.
Ivana paused. “A good boy. But a bit too innocent and unsophisticated for our group, and especially for Vanessa. He loved her almost to the point of blindness, it seemed to me. He did everything she said, followed her everywhere.”
Interesting, but not very enlightening.
“Well, thank you for your help,” Shane said. “We’ll be in touch.”
“Do come back and join us. We’d love to have two sexy officers to keep us safe.” Ivana shot him a smile.
“We’ll keep that in mind.” He gave her a wink.
Daisy knew they’d never participate for real. That scene was far beyond anything she, for one, would ever want to play. “Where to now?”
“Let’s pay a visit to Jimmy. I’m anxious to finish that conversation we were having.”
“Sounds good.”
The doctor’s house was nestled in an upper middle class neighborhood about ten minutes from Ivana and Giorgio. Street after street of tasteful mini-mansions with perfectly sculpted lawns rolled by before Shane turned down the one they were looking for.
“Do these types of trappings appeal to you?” she asked, waving a hand at the area in general.
“Are you kidding?” He snorted. “I’m more than happy with my place on the river. It’s peaceful, quiet, and has a great view.”
“I agree. Your house is much more homey.” He shot her a look and didn’t comment again. Belatedly, she hoped he hadn’t read anything into her comment. She wasn’t trying to insinuate herself into his life—though she wouldn’t turn down an invitation to be with him more often.
Shane pulled into the Glenns’ long driveway and parked. “Let’s see what we can get out of these two.”
Nobody was more surprised than Marla Glenn to see Ashwood’s newest members standing on her front porch.
“Oh, hello,” she greeted them with a tentative smile. It wasn’t the warmest welcome Daisy had ever seen. “Shane and Daisy, isn’t it?”
“That’s right, Mrs. Glenn,” Shane said smoothly, holding up his black wallet and flipping it open to reveal his badge. “But I’m afraid that’s Detective Shane Ford and Officer Daisy Callahan.”
Marla’s eyes bugged and she looked like she’d been smacked. “I—I don’t understand. What’s going on here?”
“My we come inside?” Daisy asked politely. “We’d like to ask you and your husband a few questions.”
“Of course,” she said, standing aside to let them in. “I’ll go get Jimmy. Please, follow me.”
She led them into the spacious living room and left them for a few moments. The inside was as tasteful and expensive as the outside, and not to Daisy’s liking for all the class dripping from every surface. The Glenns were a nice enough young couple, but they were a world apart from anyone Daisy knew.
In moments Marla returned, Jimmy leading the way. His handsome face was faintly alarmed. “My wife tells me you’re both police officers? What’s going on?”
Shane stood, showing his badge again. “That’s right. I’m afraid I have bad news. Vanessa Hall was found murdered last night.”
Like Mark, their reactions were spot-on. If they were faking their horror, they were damned good.
“Oh my God,” Marla whispered, hand going to her mouth. “What happened? Who could’ve done this?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out. How was her relationship with Mark?” Shane prodded.
“No.” Marla shook her head. “If you’re looking at him, you’re searching in the wrong direction. Mark loves—loved—her beyond reason.”
“Well, someone didn’t,” Shane said, studying the couple closely. “We’ve also learned that her murder is connected to a woman, Nikki Thompson, who was killed in the same manner earlier this week. Have either of you heard of her?”
“I’m not sure.” Jimmy hesitated, frowning, then his expression cleared. “You know, I read about her murder in the paper, but I didn’t pay much attention to the details.”
“She worked as a church secretary at the Lamb of God. I thought you might have been acquainted somehow, or seen her around.”
“I don’t think so, but . . .” The doctor trailed off, frowning.
“Remember something?” Shane’s posture tensed, and his gray eyes sparked with interest.
“Yeah.” Jimmy’s expression grew troubled. “This is probably just a coincidence, but one of our members works at Lamb of God—William Wakefield.”
“You don’t say,” Shane drawled, looking excited now. “What does he do there?”
“He’s the reverend. Not that he ever told us as much.” Jimmy laughed softly. “I mean, what minister would want it to get out that he and the wife are part of a sex club?”
“So how did you find out?” Daisy asked.
“By accident. I drove by the church one day and saw Will locking up. I did a little poking around and found out. Marla and I kept it to ourselves, though.”
Marla spoke up, appearing intrigued. “That poor woman worked for Will? I wonder why he would show up at our gathering this week as though nothing happened? Isn’t that strange?”
“Very,” her husband agreed with distaste. “And pretty damned cold, if you ask me. I’m not sure why they come at all. Maybe they hope to make friends and convert us all, or maybe they’re simply hesitant to get started. If word of their desires got out, they’d be ruined in the community.”
Daisy had a feeling their participation was much more sinister than that. A glance at Shane confirmed he was on the same wavelength. Shane held out the sheet of paper with all of the group members’ names and addresses on it, and pointed to the one they’d been curious about.
“I suppose that might be why Will and Allie gave the club a PO box for their address instead of their real one?”
Jimmy nodded. “I’d say so. Since he kept his occupation a secret, I’m not surprised he would be reluctant to list his church on Holly Street as his home address.”
“True,” Shane said with a smile. “Jimmy and Marla, you’ve been most helpful.”
“We hope so,” the doctor replied in earnest. “I’m not sure what the hell is going on, but please let us know if there’s anything else we can do.”
After saying their goodbyes, Daisy followed Shane back to the truck. “I think we’re onto something, Kimosabe. Are we headed where I think we are?”
He glanced at her, his grin feral. “I’m feeling the need to say a few prayers for the lost, how about you?”
The thrill of the hunt zipped through her veins. “Oh, yes. I’m thinking that’s a very good idea.”
Pressing on the accelerator, Shane headed the truck toward the middle of town, in the direction of the big church on Holly Street.
5
Shane drove as fast as possible toward the church, hyperaware of Daisy sitting so close. He was trying to keep his focus on their new lead, but it wasn’t easy. Now that he’d tasted her again and again, he only wanted more—which was the worst of possible ideas. He was going to break her heart.
Only he was starting to suspect his would take a giant blow as well.
Daisy cut into his morose thoughts. “So, Nikki Thompson wasn’t a swinge
r, just a nice girl who worked as William’s church secretary.”
“Maybe not as much of a good girl as it seems on the surface.”
“Possibly.”
“Now the question is, if she ran afoul of William or Allie, what happened? And how does her death relate to Vanessa’s, not to mention why the others were taken?”
“Good question.” Using his hands-free unit, he called Taylor’s cell phone. His partner answered on the second ring.
“What’s up?”
“The first victim, Nikki Thompson. Was she a member at Ashwood?”
“No. Chris and I had already checked that against our missing people and she still has no obvious connection to them that we can find.”
“She does now,” Shane told him. “Just found out from Jimmy and Marla Glenn that not only did Nikki work at Lamb of God—she was Reverend William Wakefield’s church secretary.”
He waited for the explosion. It wasn’t long in coming.
“What?” his partner practically shouted. “Fuck me! How the hell did I miss this?”
“Hey, don’t kick yourself. We were bound to connect them sooner or later.”
“Wakefield is a minister? I can’t believe this.” He huffed a breath on the other end of the line. “Makes sense with the rosary being left with the victims. It’s not nearly enough to tie him to the murders, though.”
“I know. Right now we’re just going to pay him and his wife a visit. See how they react.”
“Be careful. Call for backup if you need us.”
“Will do.”
Ending the call, he looked at Daisy. “Let’s go rattle another apple tree.”
“Can’t wait.”
Shane parked in the lot right in front of the church’s main doors and they got out, surveying the place. The building was big and beautiful in the sunlight, with a tall steeple pointing the way to heaven. A shiver went through him.
“Think they’ll be in the church?” Daisy asked. “I noticed there’s a cottage out back. Looks like it could be the reverend’s private residence.”
“We’ll try the main sanctuary first, then the cottage if necessary.”
