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Crushed

Page 23

by Kate Watterson


  “I’ll run it. Park Bench case?”

  “You got that right.”

  “Then flowers for you. Word gets around here.” Rob nodded. “Orders have trickled down to give it priority. I’ll get on this. Speak of the devil, here he comes.”

  Santiago sauntered into the lab and deposited the vase in front of Rob. “Here you go, old man. A gift for you as a token of my affection. It will probably involve a lot of trouble on your part with no results for us, but we don’t want you to be bored and I think I forgot you on Valentine’s Day.”

  “What a nice a gesture. You know you’re like the son I never had.”

  “I thought you had three or something like that.” Santiago furrowed his brow.

  “I have four, but none of them are like you, for which I thank the powers above, or below, whatever you choose.”

  They always interacted this way, which was why Ellie decided to leave. “I’m going to spend some much-needed time on my computer and you two can continue insulting each other without me.”

  Grasso was at his desk, so she stopped and told him about their interview with Marcy Drelling. “We now have an eyewitness I think we can count on for an absolute positive identification. All we need is someone we can bring in for questioning and a lineup.”

  He was dressed as usual like he’d be at home at a cocktail party in Manhattan. “Is that all we need? That seems to be harder than it should be. By the way, Georgia has a favor to ask of you for one of her patients if you can find the time. It’s a troubled young girl who is slowly turning around and might want to be a police officer one day. I’m sure she’ll call you herself, but I thought I’d mention it. She wonders if you and Santiago might sit down with her patient and let her ask a few questions.”

  “I talk to her frequently.”

  “But you are working a tough case. She knows that. This isn’t life or death, this is just a favor.”

  That sounded like Georgia. “I’m kind of dubious I’d recommend this job right now because this case is so elusive I’m going to lose my mind. He’s out there. We know what he looks like. I’ve heard his voice. He’s been to my house—been in my house—and leaves us notes. Why can’t we catch him?”

  “Oh, I understand. I’ll never catch who shot that street gang kid. I know it and I think his parents know it too. I’ve tried. Hopefully they know that as well.”

  “This looks like a cheerful conversation.” Jason walked up. “Let me guess, NFL draft picks?”

  “Some of us have more sophisticated interests,” Grasso said caustically. “We were talking about ballet and whether or not we enjoyed the movie The Turning Point.”

  He astounded them both. “Anne Bancroft, right?” He turned to Ellie. “Let’s go to Parkview Elementary now that school is back in session this morning and we can actually talk to someone who knows what they’re doing and see if they can do anything to push this investigation forward. I picked up the pictures. Let’s get there before lunch. Have I ever mentioned cafeteria ladies scare me?”

  She slanted him a glance. “Is there anything that doesn’t scare you? Spiders and cafeteria ladies are on the list. What else?’

  “It’s pretty long. Metzger when he’s pissed off is on it. Let’s go try and make him happy. Let’s not forget this wacko killing people and sending you flowers scares me. I believe I’ve already admitted that.”

  She didn’t disagree on that one.

  The school was a newer building and the sign out front announced that grandparents’ day would be on the fourteenth and all visitors needed to sign in. They both did so and went to the office, and when they produced their badges were given more badges to clip to their jackets before they could see the principal. She was on the phone but waved them into her office and got off the line promptly. Middle-aged and with a somber expression, Principal Albert said, “I’m absolutely heartsick to do this interview. Please have a seat. Counselors are dealing with the children. You have no idea how students become attached to their teachers, and to have one murdered … we are devastated. I have no words. How can I help?”

  Ellie said, “We are looking for a link and maybe the school is part of it. We need access to employment records, and we were wondering if you could help us identify this victim. I’m sorry that the pictures aren’t more pleasant, but no one has come forward to help us figure out who she is.”

  She handed over the photographs from the morgue. The principal immediately shut her eyes and handed them back before she opened them again. “That’s Patricia. Patricia Stine. She was a secretary here for a while. She retired because her husband had cancer. They had no children.”

  Ellie was sympathetic, but she had a feeling they’d just made a strong connection that couldn’t be ignored. “Those records are really important. We have another person that might be tied to the school. If he is, our search can narrow.”

  Santiago backed her up. “We don’t know how the school might be involved, but it looks like it is. Let’s find out. Can you look up Calvin Hanes?”

  “I don’t have to. I remember Calvin. In 2006 when he was fired for too many absences I felt bad, but it was what it was, a violation of policy.”

  That confirmed Ellie’s research.

  He said to Ellie, “Oh jeez, three people. We’re on to something.”

  “I wish it didn’t involve the school.” Principal Albert really meant it, her pale blue eyes alarmed. “Do you think it does?”

  Ellie gave her the other names. “Five murders. The young woman and the young man might have been students here, but you have a teacher, a janitor, and a secretary. We’ll look into it, but there’s an older lady we think is connected to the crimes. I know this is time consuming, but can you look at these names also and get back to us? We don’t think all of them are tied into the school, but for all we know maybe they are. We do know the older lady is the victim of the same killer, or at least believe she is. If anyone has information you think might be remotely helpful, I’m going to give you both my e-mail and phone number.”

  “We take security very seriously here,” the principal said. “I’ll have a staff meeting and warn them that on a private level they should also be very careful. Like any school, we’ve had our share of problem students and even disgruntled employees, but no one comes to mind immediately that would do anything remotely like this.” Her face was troubled. “I’ve been here for fifteen years and I do pay attention.”

  Ellie believed her. “If you think of anything, let us know. We appreciate your time.”

  “I appreciate yours.” She was already reaching for the phone.

  “No lunch ladies,” she said to Santiago as they walked outside.

  “Yeah, dodged a bullet there, but I’ve seen the inside of a principal’s office a few times too many, so that didn’t give me warm fuzzy memories. What next? Back to the Bat Cave to call the families and find out if the two younger victims ever went to the school? How come I have a feeling they did?”

  “Then what is his tie?”

  “He’s young. Maybe he went there too.”

  The day was hazy, smelled like spring, and the lilac bushes in the landscaping had leaves and even buds on them. They got into her car and drove back as Ellie thought long and hard about how the evidence piled up, but they were still getting nowhere. “This is insane. We have him. Witnesses, the school, the flowers … we have him.”

  Santiago agreed. “That break just isn’t coming. He’s made a lot of risky moves, but not the ones we need. I’d wipe out Las Vegas on betting that there are no prints on that card. A handwriting match, yes, but no prints.”

  She had the sinking sensation he was exactly right. “I wonder what that card says. I have a feeling I don’t want to know.”

  “It doesn’t matter. He’s going down.”

  * * *

  He was starting to feel it. A sense maybe they were closing in but still just sniffing around, and it was hard not to let it get to him. Jason could read the signs and they had a handl
e on this, but it was tenuous. If this guy decided to lay low, they might never find him.

  Ellie walked up and laid the card on his desk. “No prints. Rob scanned it and sent it off to the FBI for handwriting analysis, but he said though that isn’t his specialty, he’d say it matches the handwriting on the victims. He went into all the swoops and so forth in the letters, but I’m just going to take his word for it.”

  He picked it up.

  I’ve watched you sleep.

  There was no denying his entire body went tense, and he wasn’t exactly relaxed before. “I’m so tired of this that the desert island idea is really starting to appeal to me. I’ll join you. Is it okay if I wear a Speedo the entire time?”

  Ellie said emphatically, “No.”

  “That’s not kind.”

  “I wasn’t trying to be kind.” She pointed at the note. “If he hadn’t obviously been inside my home, I would think he was just trying to be theatrical and scare me, but we know he has been in there. The idea of being asleep and someone coming in who thinks we are playing some sort of macabre game makes my skin crawl. How could we not find him on the video?” Her phone beeped and she checked it. “It’s one of the cold case detectives. I’ll let you know if he can help us out.” She was already talking when she walked toward her desk.

  Jason picked up the note and walked purposely down the hall and was in luck, because the chief wasn’t in a meeting or on one of his endless successions of phone calls. Jason knocked and poked his head in the door. “Can I have a minute or two?”

  Metzger nodded and pointed a finger at a chair. “This saves me a trip down the hall. Funny thing, I want to talk to you.”

  Oh great. That was never good.

  Jason sat down, glad he had taken the time to get that haircut now. Metzger didn’t look any too cheerful, but then again, he rarely did.

  “You go first,” the chief ordered, leaning back. “This had better be good news.”

  What the hell had he done now, Jason wondered, but he had been the one to initiate a conversation, so he leaned forward and handed over the note. “This is just back from forensics. We firmly believe it is from our friendly Park Bench Killer, and Rob says the handwriting matches the notes on the victims, but we are having that confirmed. It was delivered to MacIntosh’s door along with more flowers. I think we need more manpower. Officers in her house maybe besides the ones outside … I’ve suggested she leave town, and she wants no part of it. I was not joking. Maybe you could order her to go on leave.”

  Metzger scanned it and looked even less happy than before. “Okay, done. I agree that it would be a wise move to put some officers inside. I was thinking about doing that already. Just imagine the media firestorm if this maniac killed one of the detectives investigating the case, not to mention I’d lose a competent police officer who usually has the sense God gave a goat, unlike some of the others I can think of.”

  Well, mission accomplished, but Jason felt a frisson of foreboding at the glower on his boss’s face. “Why do I think I am lumped somehow into the nongoat group you just mentioned?”

  “Oh yeah, you are the leader right now.” Metzger looked at him very directly. “You want to know why?”

  He suddenly wasn’t sure he did. “I get the feeling you’ll tell me whether I do or not.” He added, “sir.” He always did when he was in trouble and wasn’t positive if it helped or not, but it couldn’t hurt.

  Metzger opened his main desk drawer and extracted a photo. He pushed it across the desk. “Take a look.”

  Despite the trepidation that he wasn’t going to like what he saw, Jason really didn’t have much choice, so he picked it up. Involuntarily, he said, “Holy shit.”

  “That was my reaction too,” Metzger said grimly. “I completely believe the note is accurate.”

  Honestly, he stared at the picture and felt violated.

  Ellie was turned away from him, her face peaceful, and thankfully the sheet was tugged up enough her breasts weren’t exposed, but it was clear enough they were both naked since his bare chest was entirely visible, and no doubt obvious what they’d been doing, since they were in the same bed together, rumpled sheets and all.

  Well hell.

  “Santiago, what the hell were you both thinking?”

  He couldn’t speak for a long moment because his throat had tightened so much in anger. He finally managed, “I don’t believe there was a lot of thinking going on.”

  “I agree.” Metzger was not just brusque, he was furious. “I don’t need this shit.”

  There was absolutely no point in trying to get out of it.

  At least he could say with complete honesty, “If this helps, when you last asked if we were sleeping together, Ellie told the truth. We weren’t. She wouldn’t lie to you.”

  “When I last asked? Let’s not talk about that for now, but we will address it later.” The chief put away the photo and snapped the drawer shut.

  Wait a minute. Back the truck up. Jason said, “Can I see that picture again?”

  “Want to revisit the moment?”

  “I just want to look at it again.”

  Metzger huffed out a breath and got it back out. Jason studied it, thoughtful and disturbed. “This isn’t right. This is at her house. It’s been altered. I can tell you with all honesty that we didn’t do anything the night this was taken. I was worried that sleeping on her couch I would be too far away from her if he chose to break a window. She was wearing pajamas. In this she isn’t. There’s a hidden camera and this guy is pretty tech savvy. He’s gotten in and out under our noses. Maybe we can lift a print off the camera. It has to be in the ceiling somewhere.”

  “I’ll send in for a sweep. Tell me, Detective Santiago, what does ‘we didn’t do anything the night this was taken’ mean?” Metzger was direct, but he always was, so no surprise.

  Jason wasn’t at all sure what to say.

  Best to just keep his mouth shut. It had only taken thirty-plus years to learn that lesson.

  Metzger leaned on the desk. “There is a hard decision for me ahead, but for now, the two of you are still a team. Stay at your place or a hotel. I’m not even sure what to tell you. I’ve never had a detective targeted this way, and you are obviously the best person to protect her; that goes without saying, apparently. I thought she had better taste but I’ve been wrong before. I have an ex-wife to prove it. This stalker is very active. He’s hunting and focused. I expect you to solve this series of crimes as soon as possible and get it all out of my face. No more press conferences. I hate those, and I particularly hate them when they involve my detectives, got it? He could post that same picture on social media and quite frankly, God knows what else. With or without you in the game, he’s probably been taking pictures of her undressing. What’s more, he obviously has broken in. Keep her away from there.”

  The picture was certainly a nightmare Jason hadn’t expected.

  “Guess what, lover boy, you get to tell her, because my job is hard enough and I have no desire to tread that path with everything else I have to do. So you get to tell MacIntosh about the picture, you get to tell her about the camera, and I’m making this all your problem. I’m guessing it won’t be the easiest conversation you’ve ever had. Now get the hell out of here.”

  Jason left the office with a deep breath.

  Metzger was right. Ellie was going to be mortified and really ticked off. Not at him—she wasn’t unfair—but she was not going to be happy someone took a picture of them in bed together.

  He still couldn’t believe it.

  It happened, he knew it did, and with the technology out there, it was all too possible and you didn’t have to be a genius either to pull it off. That the killer could get in and out of her house was not just frightening, but petrifying.

  Thankfully she was still safe and sound at her desk, working away with a faint frown of concentration on her face. She glanced up. “How’d that go?”

  Chapter 26

  He sat and thought
it over.

  It had occurred to him that Ellie had a sister.

  The sister had children. Vulnerability all around. He wouldn’t kill a child—he wasn’t a monster—but just hinting at it would be enough, he suspected.

  Maybe he was a monster. The idea of it stopped him cold, but then again, it didn’t last for long. No, the people he’d killed were the monsters in their own singular way, and all he’d done was get his point across.

  He was cleaning his closets.

  Ellie was like him. She was a slayer. Sword out and unafraid.

  Maybe she didn’t have to be afraid.

  But Jason Santiago certainly did.

  * * *

  Four o’clock. Cindy was always on time since her father brought her and sat in the waiting room during the appointment. On cue the light went on signaling a patient arrival.

  This time, when Georgia went to open the door, Mr. Helt came in with his daughter. He’d never done that before and Georgia had to admit she was startled, but then again this wasn’t a usual session.

  He was midforties or so, a hint of silver in his dark hair. He was a civil engineer so the suit was no surprise. He said in a very moderate tone that spoke volumes about possible dissention over this decision, “My wife and I discussed it and agreed maybe I should sit in on this session. If Cindy is truly interested in a career in law enforcement, that is not at all my area of expertise, so I would like to hear what the officers have to say about it.”

  Not to Georgia’s surprise, Cindy looked resentful about the intrusion. Since their lack of communication had been the source of a lot of the family’s problems in her opinion, Georgia however was pleased to see Cindy was wearing again the worn jeans and wasn’t spilling out of her top. Instead she had on a high school T-shirt that said Go Falcons, which was certainly more appropriate for her age. Her makeup didn’t look like she was an extra in a vampire movie either. She said, “Of course. The detectives should be here in fifteen minutes. Please have a seat.”

  They did and Mr. Helt looked about as comfortable as his daughter, which wasn’t very encouraging.

 

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