by D. K. Hood
“If the DNA comes back a match, I have a way of getting through to him.” Jo leaned forward in her seat. “I’ll need to speak to the DA, but as he was ten at the time of his mother’s murder, I might have a way to get inside his head and convince him to admit to the ski lodge murders.”
Fifty-Eight
The smell of fresh coffee greeted Jenna when she arrived at the office. In her absence, Kane had fed the prisoner, arranged his legal counsel, and ordered in a ton of food from Aunt Betty’s Café. He was currently waiting outside the interview room, to make sure the secured Grayson didn’t cause a problem for his lawyer, Samuel J. Cross. Maggie had returned to the office and informed her that Rio had written his statement and Kane had sent him home. He’d be back first thing in the morning to assist Rowley.
Jenna led Jo and Carter into her office and went to the coffee machine. “We might as well grab something to eat while Grayson is talking to his lawyer. There’s a ton of food here. Help yourself. It’s going to be a long night.” She poured coffee, grabbed some sandwiches, and looked at Jo as they returned to her desk. “So how do you want to do this?”
“I guess it all depends on how much Sam Cross allows him to say.” Jo sat down and placed her food and coffee on the desk. “A psychopath, and I’ve little doubt he is one, isn’t easily intimidated. They like to believe they have the upper hand. Reasoning with them never works, so we have to make it appear that we are offering him a way out of trouble.”
“He must know he’s facing serious jail time.” Carter collapsed into a chair and let out a long weary sigh before tossing his Doberman, Zorro, a few cold sausages and adding a few more to Duke’s plate. “I figure we suggest making a deal with the DA to take the death penalty off the table if he cooperates with us.”
Intrigued, Jenna sipped her coffee, allowing the rich brew to spill over her tongue. Kane had insisted on supplying the office with his special blend of coffee and she’d missed it being away for so long. She nodded. “Maybe suggest he’ll be immortalized in the FBI’s ongoing research into psychopathic behavior. It worked for James Stone, one of our other cases. He lapped it up.”
“Yeah, they sure like to be famous.” Jo smiled. “Grayson is particularly of interest mainly because he switched his MO for each victim and none of them resembled the slash, kill, mutilate cycle he had as a kid.” She nibbled at a sandwich. “We can use that fact… that interest in him to make him talk.” She looked at Jenna. “Kane should be involved. His insight is an asset and so is Ty’s.”
“Why thank you, ma’am.” Carter grinned. “I have interviewed a few psychopaths in my time, but I’ve learned a whole lot from you.”
“Sam Cross is waiting outside.” Kane walked into the office, closing the door behind him. He wore an exhausted expression and nodded to Carter and Jo. “He didn’t specify what he wanted. I guess he needs to discuss something with you, Jenna.”
Why would the defense lawyer, Sam Cross, want to consult with her about anything? They’d never gotten along, and had crossed swords many a time. Concerned, she nodded. “Send him in. He’ll be talking to all of us as Jo and Carter are officially involved now.”
“Okay.” He grabbed two chairs from alongside the wall and placed them in front of Jenna’s desk and then pulled open the door. “Come in and take a seat. You know special agents Jo Wells and Ty Carter. They’re involved in the case.”
Jenna waited for Cross to sit down and rested her aching arm on the desk. “What can I do for you?”
“My client is prepared to speak with you.” Cross drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. “I gather that in the rage of battle he said a few things. Eyewitness accounts of three law enforcement officers and Julie Wolfe’s testimony to prove attempted murder is all you have. I will fight to defend him against the other charges and have told him so.”
“He won’t be getting bail.” Carter pushed back the brim of his Stetson. “We’re prepared to hold him pending further evidence for a time, so he won’t be fronting a judge for a while.”
“And I’ll be determining if I consider him a risk.” Jo leaned back in her chair.
Jenna met the lawyer’s gaze. “Wolfe is running tests as we speak that will tie Grayson into the death of his mother.” She shook her head slowly. “I honestly can’t believe you want to defend this guy. He tried to strangle Julie right in front of us. He begged us to allow him to kill one more time.”
“I’m a defense attorney.” Sam Cross stood and leaned on the table, eyeballing her. “I’m here to keep you honest. It wouldn’t be the first time you arrested the wrong man.” He checked his watch. “Are you ready to interview my client? It’s getting late.”
“You know the way.” Kane got to his feet and brushed past him on his way to the coffee machine. “The sheriff will be right along.”
Jenna’s phone buzzed as the door closed. It was Wolfe. She listened and smiled. “Thanks, that’s going to change things. I’ll tell the team. We haven’t interviewed Grayson yet.” She disconnected and looked at Kane. “The DNA is a match. The suspect is without doubt Paul Tate, our missing kid.” She looked at Jo. “Ready? Let’s do this.”
“Sure.” Jo stood. “May I suggest you start in and then I’ll take over the questioning with Kane? Once I’ve established a rapport, you and Carter can ask questions.” She smiled. “I have an idea. Kane, can I have a word?”
“Sure.” Kane pushed away from the counter and followed her into the hallway.
Jenna stared after them. “I wonder what Jo has up her sleeve?”
“Whatever it is”—Carter smiled and stood slowly—“you can be assured she knows exactly how to handle psychopaths. I just sit back and watch her play them like a fiddle.”
Fifty-Nine
Thinking on Carter’s advice, Jenna paused to speak to Jo and Kane outside the interview room. “Would it be better for me to remain outside with Carter? We don’t want to crowd the suspect. He might get defensive.”
“No, I think it will work to our advantage.” Jo opened her notebook and scanned the pages. “If he thinks he intimidates us, I can use it against him. Just give me a chance to crack him open and then you can move in with your questions. But remember, play to his cunning side. We don’t want the monster coming out. If that happens, he’ll shut down—or try to kill us all.”
“Fat chance of that.” Kane slid his weapon into the drawer along with everyone else’s and locked it. “He might be crazy but he’s not going to hurt anyone. Not on my watch.”
They moved inside, leaving the dogs in the hallway and took seats opposite Grayson. Jenna set the video recorder, gave the date and time, and let everyone in the room identify themselves. She looked at Bexley Grayson and indicated to Jo. “Mr. Grayson, we tested your DNA against a woman by the name of Diane Tate and you came up a match. We have reason to believe you are her son, Paul Tate. Is that correct?”
“So what?” Grayson shrugged. “I was adopted after my mom died. I’m sure that is on the record somewhere.”
Realizing at once she’d already put Grayson on the offensive, Jenna pulled back and gave Jo a nod.
“But you kept it a secret, didn’t you? When Deputy Kane asked you if you knew Paul Tate? I can understand why you lied.” Jo looked up from her notes and smiled. “I’m conducting research on early childhood behavior patterns following a traumatic event. You may have blocked that period of time from your mind.”
“I remember everything.” Grayson stared at Jo with cold eyes and an expression that chilled Jenna to the bone.
“I do know something about your life in Black Ridge.” Jo’s expression was guileless. “We’ve spoken to your old friend Peter Burrows. He explained to us how you loved to sing in the choir, never missed mass, and spent many weekends sleeping over at his house. He was concerned for you and wondered why you’ve never contacted him.”
“Peter was the means to an end.” Grayson made a dismissive gesture with one of his secured hands. “I needed to get away from my mom at
the weekends and he was a convenience is all. When I left, I forgot he existed.”
So, the classic lack of empathy had started at a young age. Jenna exchanged a meaningful look with Kane. It was unusual for psychopaths to admit they didn’t care or had no feelings for the people they’d hurt. He’d explained only recently how although the lack of empathy was the primary trait of many underlying psychoses in a psychopath, but, being so smart, faking empathy was quite usual. It hid them in plain sight and many, even with the most antisocial behavior, could charm and cajole people.
“I see.” Jo turned to Kane. “Can we have Mr. Grayson’s restraints removed? It’s difficult speaking to him when he’s hunched up over the table.”
“Sure.” Kane stepped forward and removed the cuffs.
A prickle of apprehension raised the hairs on Jenna’s arms and, as if he’d felt her concern, Carter stood and went to lean against the wall closest to the prisoner. She held her broken arm and waited with bated breath for Kane and Jo’s plan to unfold.
“I understand where you’re coming from.” Kane sat down and looked at Grayson. “No father in the picture, a kid looks to a priest or other male figure for guidance. They trust and love them as a father figure. Sometimes things happen and when you tell your mom they get mad. I’ve been there. You’re not alone in this problem.”
Trying not to gape at the crock of lies falling from Kane’s lips, Jenna opened her notebook and smoothed the pages. Her attention moved to Grayson, who blinked a few times and inclined his head as if assessing the man before him.
“You’re like me, aren’t you?” Grayson’s forehead creased into a frown. “Yet, how come you’re on that side of the table and I’m chained to the darn floor?”
“Yeah, I’ve killed.” Kane shrugged. “I figure everyone in this room has killed apart from your lawyer. We just have different reasons to kill, don’t we, Paul? What happened to the choirboy that made him kill? Tell us what happened way back then and you’ll be immortalized in Agent Wells’s book.”
“Why should I do that?” Grayson opened his hands wide. “I’ll walk free.”
Jenna looked up from making unnecessary notes. “No, you’ll go to jail. Ask your lawyer. At this point in time, you should be considering if we’re going to suggest or oppose the death penalty. We have enough evidence to charge you with the murder of your mother, and as it occurred in this state, if you were over the age of seven, you knew you were committing a crime.” She shrugged. “All this crap”—Jenna waved a hand to encompass the room—“is to give you the chance to tell your side of the story, for as sure as hell, once you get to court it will be lost in the process.”
“Paul…” Jo glanced around the room and everyone went quiet. “That is your name, isn’t it? Look, we understand how lonely kids are tricked into trusting adults. They’re young and vulnerable, but soon they come to realize something isn’t right. They confide in their moms or friends and are ridiculed. Then bad things happen. No one would blame you, a kid of ten, for wanting it to stop.”
“Tell them what happened, when you were a kid.” Sam Cross stared at his client. “We’d have the jurors on our side if you suffered abuse as a child.”
“This is what we call grooming.” Kane flicked a glance at Jo and then stared at Grayson. “You see, the adult lies to the kid, tells them they love them, and the kid believes them. They enjoy the attention until it becomes abuse.”
“Yeah, it was like that at first.” Grayson clasped his hands before him on the table and stared at them. “I loved being in the choir and the priest told me I had the voice of an angel. When he asked me to stay back and help him, I thought I was special. Later, I told my mom what he’d asked me to do to him and she thrashed me for speaking about such things.” He rubbed both hands down his face. “I refused to go back to church, but then the priest would visit my home and it all started again.”
“How did the other man become involved?” Jo placed her notebook on the table and folded her hands in her lap.
“Uncle Bob would visit as well on the weekends.” Grayson looked wildly around. “I fought and screamed so much that Mom had Uncle Bob take me into the woods. From then on, I went to stay with Pete to avoid them. I knew Mom would put a stop to it soon and I needed to do something.” He suddenly smiled as if recalling a sweet memory. “I made plans to meet Uncle Bob in the woods. I snuck out of Pete’s house late one night to meet him. I knew what he wanted, but this time I had the knife I’d stolen from Pete’s house on my belt.” He chuckled. “The moment he dropped his pants, it was easy. The knife was so sharp, it was like cutting off the head of a chicken. Uncle Bob ran about like a crazy man, clutching his groin, and then just died. I covered him with leaves and branches. They didn’t find him for weeks.”
“That’s self-defense.” Sam Cross was making copious notes. “Did your mom invite these men to abuse you?”
“She told me I must keep the secret because they put food on our table.” Grayson’s expression changed, going like stone, unemotional soulless eyes moved around the table. “I heard talk about her being a prostitute and didn’t know what it was for some time, but when I did, I realized I was just an added attraction. I did the same to the priest. It was easy to lure him to Uncle Bob’s cabin. I left him there in a pool of blood.”
“Killing your abusers is a defense.” Jo appeared so relaxed as if he’d just told her a fairy story. “Did your mom know you’d killed them?”
“Not until I stabbed her in the throat.” Grayson didn’t as much as blink. “I can still see her face, but I didn’t care. I cleaned up, burned my clothes, and went back to Pete’s house. They didn’t even know I’d gone missing.”
“You were just a little boy in an untenable position.” Jo shook her head. “I’ve seen a picture of your mother. Did seeing Julie, trigger a memory of her?”
“It was the red nails and the way she played with her hair.” Grayson leaned back in his chair and smiled. “All I could see in my head was my mother bleeding out. Watching her die was the best thing in my life. I was free.”
“So, after killing the people at the ski lodge, you figured killing Julie would purge you again?” Jo’s pen hovered a few inches above her notebook.
“Yeah.” Grayson chuckled. “I really enjoyed those.”
Jenna held her breath. Jo had extracted a confession of guilt from Grayson, but Sam Cross dashed her hopes when he jumped to his feet.
“I think that’s enough questions.” Sam Cross stared at his client both eyebrows raised in disbelief.
“Nah, I’ll tell them. I might as well go to jail and be respected.” Grayson smiled at Jo. “If she immortalizes me in her book and agrees to take the death penalty off the table, I’ll be the King of County.”
“Just wait one darn minute.” Sam Cross glared at Grayson. “I make the deals.”
“Not this time.” Grayson smiled. “I’ll have the recognition I deserve.”
“Okay, that’s a deal.” Jo lifted her chin. “What was the reason behind the ski lodge murders?”
“Revenge.” Grayson steepled his fingers, loving the attention. “They’re all responsible for the rejection of my book in one way or another. Not one of them or the authors they represented had my flare for the written word. So, I demonstrated the flaws in the murder scenes by re-creating them. I showed them how they could’ve been written through the eyes of the victim or the killer.” His gaze moved over Jenna and then settled on Jo. “Those idiots were nothing, a mere inconvenience. I have so many stories to tell you, Agent Wells. I hope you’ll be a frequent visitor and we’ll become friends.”
“Oh, I’ll be speaking to you in the future, but I’m not finished here yet.” Jo narrowed her gaze at him. “Why didn’t you kill Julie the night you broke into her room?”
“It wasn’t time and I wanted to play with her some more. Mind games, Agent Wells. Building up the fear before the kill makes it so much better.” Grayson wet his lips. “She was going to be my reward for a job we
ll done.”
There was one thing Jenna had to know. She kept her voice conversational. “What was the significance of the pen?”
“Miss Storm bought that pen after earning her first million in commissions. She used it to sign all the contracts, so I used it in her final contract with death.” Grayson grinned. “A nice twist, don’t you agree?”
“Just one more question: Why leave your mom’s earrings at the first two murder scenes?” Jo leaned forward. “You did remove them from your mother’s body post-mortem, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I ripped them out of her ears. You see, when it’s really good—the killing—I keep things to recall what I was feeling at the time.” Grayson giggled almost childlike. “You want to know why I left the earrings, the ring, and the scarf behind? That’s so easy. I bet most of the authors at the convention could’ve given you the answer. I’m a crime writer. Don’t you know only the very best of us leave a ton of red herrings?”
It took hours to complete the statements and it was three in the morning before Jenna had everything squared away. She’d dragged the DA out of bed to explain everything and he’d arrived at the office to discuss the case with Sam Cross. The deliberations led to Grayson deciding on a guilty plea to all the ski lodge murders and to manslaughter for the cold-case murders in Black Ridge. He would face a judge in the morning and be transferred to county. Jenna’s broken arm throbbed but, exhilarated, she looked round at her exhausted team. “We did it. A full confession.” She hugged Jo. “You are amazing.”
“I’m convinced he’s killed more people.” Jo rubbed her forehead. “I’ll need to delve into his background more closely. Maybe investigate some cold cases in California and I believe he was in Florida for a time too. I’ll get Kalo onto it when we get home.”
After Jenna checked that the deputies from Louan were ready to take over guarding the prisoner overnight, she grabbed the others and they headed for the front door. She looked at her team. “I’m sure looking forward to taking something for my arm and crawling into bed. We don’t have to be in the office until ten. The hearing isn’t until eleven and I have people to cover for us.”
