Murder Stalks

by Sara York

  “I don’t understand it,” Ally complained, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “Men are difficult. Maybe you need to take a break from him.”

  “I don’t want to. What if no man ever wants me again?”

  “How can you think that?” Marissa said soothingly.

  “You don’t know what it’s like. I’m not cute or perky. I don’t do the girly-girl thing well. Men don’t like me.”

  “Maybe men are just intimidated by you,” Marissa said as she stroked Ally’s hand. Ally jerked it away. A mask of distrust marred her features. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Crap, everything. See, that’s the thing. I can’t talk about what’s wrong. Have you ever heard of a woman who couldn’t talk about her feelings?”

  “There are lots of women who don’t share the intimate details of their life with others.”

  “But it’s not that I can’t share my life, I’m afraid if I do, you’ll think I’m a horrible person.”

  “Ally, you are not a horrible person.”

  “You don’t know the truth of it,” Ally spat back

  “Tell me. Then we can decide together.”

  Ally stood and paced around the room, picking up magazines and putting them back down, her gait stilted and agitated. A scowl darkened her face.

  “I can’t tell you about this, it’s too...”

  “Too what?” Marissa asked.

  “Wrong.” A sob escaped Ally’s lips, leaving Marissa feeling horrible for pushing.

  “Maybe getting it out in the open will--”

  “Shut up,” Ally screamed. She picked up a book and tossed it across the room. “Getting it out in the open won’t help. Do you think you can help me? You’re just like those dolled up bitches that used to talk about me. You don’t want to help me; you want to make fun of me.”

  Marissa froze in place, suddenly afraid at the rage she saw in Ally. The couch blocked one side, Ally the other. She would never be able to make it past her. Another book took flight and smashed against a lamp, sending it tumbling to the ground. The hard crack of the porcelain against the floor stopped her tantrum. Ally looked around, her eyes wide and her breathing deep.

  “Oh, my God, Marissa, I am so sorry. I haven’t done that in ages.”

  “It’s okay,” Marissa said softly. She stepped sideways, hoping to get past Ally and find an escape.

  “No, no, no. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lose it. I do that sometimes. I can’t get control of my anger. Sometimes I just want to break everything in sight.”

  “Ally, I think I need to leave.”

  “No, you have to stay. I can’t be alone right now.”

  “Why don’t we call someone else to come over and join us?”

  “No.” Ally picked up the phone and yanked it out of the wall.

  ****

  “So, you’re telling me you don’t have Allison Underwood’s address? Doesn’t she work here?” Rex questioned, trying not to let his anger show. He’d tried the phone number the club had for Ally, but it had been disconnected.

  “Yes and no. She’s a private contractor. We help her to get appointments, but the money doesn’t really flow through the club.”

  “Did you do a background check on her before you hired her?”

  “Since we didn’t really hire her...you know how it goes.”

  “No, I don’t know how it goes.” Rex stared at the club manager, his eyes never wavering.

  Red-faced, the manager looked away and mumbled, “We run a clean company. Ally knows her stuff.”

  “Great.” Rex turned and stalked away. He wanted to tell the manager he had probably hired a mass murderer, but it was Tony’s word against the evidence. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and placed a call to Dickey Farris.

  “Dickey, we don’t have an address. You’re going to have to canvass the neighborhoods while I question Tony. Ask Michael Rains to help you.”

  “Sure, I’ll put out the word to look for Marissa’s car.”

  “Don’t approach Marissa or Allison until I get there. You understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Rex shoved the phone back into his pocket. Shit, he didn’t want to talk to Tony. He didn’t want to be wrong about his best friend. If Sekorski was right, then everything Rex had believed in was a lie.

  What if their suspect was someone else in the department? Sekorski could fudge the evidence. He’d been at every scene collecting fibers and doing the autopsies. Janice had also been there, as well as himself and Michael Rains. His head pounded and his vision blurred.

  If he believed Tony could be guilty, then he would have to investigate Sekorski, too. And if he pulled in Sekorski, then why stop there? He slammed his hands against the steering wheel and let out a string of curses. Women were dying and it was his responsibility to stop the monster. It would be easier if he could arrest everyone or set a dusk to dawn curfew. The main problem with that particular solution was the people policing the city were the ones he was most uncertain of.

  Chapter 36

  Marissa watched as Ally paced back and forth across the room. She stared at the door, waiting for a chance to escape. Fear curled through her stomach, leaving her feeling nauseated. The baby had grown in the last few days and her bladder was strained, about ready to empty itself.

  “Marissa, I need to talk to someone about this, but I don’t know who to trust.”

  “Ally, let me go pee and then we can talk.”

  “Sure, go ahead.”

  Marissa moved towards the hall. She would have to stop at the bathroom or she would never be able to escape. As she made her way down the hall, she prayed the window was big enough for her to slip out. Her heart sank when she stepped into the bathroom and saw the tiny window, no more than nine inches wide and about that tall. There was no way she would be able to sneak out.

  The base of her skull felt heavy, like a monster migraine had settled there, waiting for the perfect time to explode. She splashed water on her face, refreshing her body and her mind. To get out of this mess, she would have to think fast. Her body was smaller and slower than Ally’s, but surprise worked wonders when trying to throw off an attacker.

  Marissa opened the door to find Ally sitting on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. She held up a box and gave it to Marissa.

  “What’s this?”

  “It’s the truth. I can’t live hiding who I am. Open it.”

  Marissa’s fingers shook as she pulled the box top off. ‘What if Ally was a killer?’ Bile rose in the back of her throat, threatening to erupt. Marissa swallowed it down as she lifted a newspaper article out of the box.

  The headline read, ‘Girl found in boys’ home’. Marissa looked at Ally. “What does this mean?”

  “I lived in a boys’ home for about six months.”

  “Where?” Marissa asked, fear creeping to the front of her mind.

  “In Pennsylvania.”

  Pennsylvania. The same as Tony.... “Oh God. You. It’s you.” Marissa dropped the box and ran towards the front door.

  “Stop! Where are you going?”

  Ally’s hand landed on her shoulder and tugged her backward. Marissa was no match for Ally, but she wouldn’t die without a fight. She kicked out and her foot made contact with something solid. Ally yelped in pain. Marissa broke free momentarily, but Ally reached out once more and grabbed her by the wrist.

  “I’m not going to let you kill me without a fight,” Marissa yelled, jerking at the steel grip, now close to panic.

  “Kill you? What kind of idiot are you? Why would I kill you?”

  “It’s you. Someone from Tony’s past has come back to seek revenge. He grew up in that boys’ home with you.”

  “How did you know?”

  “You killed my baby, my Ashley.”

  “What? That’s insane. How could you think that?” Ally asked, tears forming in her eyes.

  “The box. Weren’t you going to explain to me how you killed each one of your victims i
n your sick little game of revenge?”

  “God, no! Yes, I was with Tony at the home. Eventually, I was going to approach him and thank him for being so nice to me, but I had some stuff I had to work through first. The only secret I have is that my father raised me as a boy and I’m still screwed up from it. I wear men’s underwear, and I use...” She hiccupped a sob and her voice trailed away. “I’m screwed up but I’m not a killer. I can’t believe you’d think that.”

  “What was I to think? You’ve been acting strange. You threw a book at me. Then I find out you knew Tony at the boys’ home. Someone has been... Oh God, I don’t know anymore.” Marissa threw her hands into the air, her voice rising with frustration.

  “I’m a freak, so sue me, but I’m not the killer. I could never--I think I’m gonna be sick.”

  “I need to leave,” Marissa said, heading towards the door.

  “Wait, you said someone from the boys’ home might be seeking revenge. What if he comes after me?”

  “I don’t know. Call your boyfriend.”

  “Marissa, if someone is out to get revenge on Tony, he’ll go after you. You’re safe here. Call Tony and have him come by.”

  “I don’t feel safe here.”

  “Listen, I’m sorry. I’m one screwed up bitch, but I’m not a killer. You’re safe here. Call Tony.”

  Marissa jerked her phone out of her purse and started to dial. The screen was blank. “Crap, its dead. Do you have another phone?”

  “In my bedroom. Call him from there.”

  Marissa walked down the hall, fear making her steps short and crisp. She entered the small bedroom at the back of the house and saw drawers spilled out onto the floor. Piles of men’s underwear littered the place. She stepped around a box filled with dildos and leather straps. Her head began to pound harder. Ally had been telling the truth, she was one messed up chick.

  The machine at her house picked up on the first ring. Tony hadn’t checked the messages. She dialed his cell phone, but it rang through to voicemail. Sighing, she slammed down the phone. What to do now? She had to find Tony.

  She heard a man’s voice coming from the front of the house. Hesitantly, she peeked down the hallway and saw a tall man dressed in police blues. Was this Ally’s boyfriend? He may be a jerk, but he was a jerk with good timing.

  “Excuse me,” Marissa said as she entered the living room.

  “Hi Marissa, I’m Michael Rains. I think we met once before.”

  “Yes, I remember.” She smiled and let out a breath. “Maybe you can help me. I need to get in touch with Tony, but I can’t find him.”

  “Tony sent me over here,” Michael said, “He’s tied up and wanted me to wait with you until he could get here. He’s concerned about you.”

  “When will he be here?”

  “I’m not sure. He’s with the chief. They’re talking about reinstating Tony. Apparently, they’ve had a break in the case and they’re close to finding the killer.”

  Marissa almost wilted with relief. “Oh God, that’s great.” She flicked a glance at Ally, ashamed of her earlier thoughts, but still not entirely comfortable with the side Ally had shown her today.

  Michael held up a DVD. It was ‘Titanic’. “Tony said this was your favorite movie. He suggested we watch it. He hoped it might calm you, help keep you occupied until he could get here.”

  “I don’t know...”

  “Sure. Marissa, please stay.” Ally stepped in front of Michael, blocking his view of her face. The desperation in her eyes convinced Marissa.

  “I’ll stay for one movie, and then I’m going to go to the station and wait for Tony.” Marissa noticed relief wash over Ally’s face. Confusion muddled Marissa’s thoughts, leaving her wondering how much of Ally’s tale about last night had been true.

  If Michael had been rough with her last night, Marissa should urge Ally to back away from this relationship. Maybe staying and watching how they interacted would make their problems more clear. Marissa wondered if Ally thought she needed the emotional boost from having a boyfriend. She vowed to get Ally involved in a support group for battered women. It would be difficult, because who would believe that Ally would put up with abuse? But abuse affected all types of women, not just small, defenseless waifs.

  “Would you ladies like something to drink?” Michael asked.

  Ally stood. “I’ll get it.”

  “Don’t bother.” He looked at Marissa. “Wine? Soda? Water?”

  “Water would be great,” she said.

  Michael returned and twisted the lid off a bottle of water, then handed it to Marissa. She thanked him and settled in the chair next to Ally’s. The movie started, but she couldn’t concentrate. She wasn’t in the mood to watch a movie, but she had to do something while she waited for Tony. Hopefully, this whole mess would end soon, and she and Tony could discuss starting over without the shadow of a killer hanging over them.

  Chapter 37

  Jackson Spade wasn’t satisfied. The Juniper Police Department had made a mistake when they took Tony into custody. It was possible Tony had been lying this entire time, playing him for a fool, but Spade didn't believe it for a minute. He prided himself on how easily he could read people. From his first impression, he thought Tony was a straight shooter, no funny business and no hidden secrets. He laid it out on the line and if you didn’t like him, then so be it. But Tony as a serial killer was hard to believe.

  Spade thought about going to his supervisors, but having Tony in jail threw a glitch in his plans. The FBI had agreed to help the Juniper PD with Ally Underwood, but once the news of Tony’s arrest had come across the wire, his supervisors had pulled back. Damn, he hated being turned down. If he asked for manpower to investigate and his boss said no, then he’d be off the case. But if he called in more favors, looked deeper and found something, then he could present the evidence to his boss and they would have to let him press forward.

  The first call Spade made was to the Philadelphia Boys Home for Displaced Children. He hated throwing around the weight of the FBI without the search warrant to back it up, but time was critical. The director finally released the records to him after Spade explained how two former guests of the home were in mortal danger and one of them had already lost a child to a deranged killer.

  They had looked at the publicly available list of children who had lived at the home, but now Spade had their records. He searched for boys who had problems. The list was long, too long to make anything out of it. Most of the boys at the home had so many problems that the paperwork looked like the who’s who in juvie lock up.

  Next he ran the list against death records and came up with four people who were no longer living, Casey Beaven, William DeForest, Ronald Hugh, and Andrew Carson. Maybe a clue in how they died would help Spade to figure out who the killer was.

  He placed a phone call to the county coroner where Casey Beaven died. Casey had drowned in a pool. Nothing special, no sign of foul play, just a normal drowning.

  Next he called the coroner where William DeForest had died. DeForest had been impaled with a glass bottle at a concert. The man who had killed him was still behind bars and had no connection to the home.

  Ronald Hugh fell asleep at the wheel and died in a car crash. No drugs or alcohol in Ronald’s system, just exhaustion. Nothing strange there.

  When Spade called Louisa Gonzalez, the coroner in the city where Andrew Carson died, he ran into a snag.

  “I have a death certificate from the boys’ home where Andrew grew up. It was signed by you,” Spade told her.

  “Impossible. Andrew Carson did not die. I never signed a death certificate for him.” Louisa said with a Spanish accent, her tone crisp and professional.

  “Are you sure? Maybe it’s someone else you’re remembering,” Spade said.

  “Very sure. You can talk to Detective Hugo Gonzalez, he is my husband and I remember that case well. Andrew Carson disappeared. His mother insisted we issue a death certificate, but I refused.”

&nb
sp; “His mother?”

  “Yes. I’m not sure why she was so insistent. She’d never come in, just call and call and call. Very annoying woman. It doesn’t matter anymore, though. He will be declared legally dead in a few months. So, I guess his mother will finally get her wish.”

  “Andrew Carson grew up in an orphanage and his adoptive parents died in a fire when he was seventeen. He didn’t have a mother alive at the time.”

  There was silence on the other end of the line, then, “Well, shit.”

  “Do you have a picture of Andrew Carson?”

  “Yes, but I’ll have to look for the file. Give me an hour.”

  “Great, could you scan it and email it to me? Also, do you have his prints on file?”

  “I’ll look, but don’t hold your breath.”

  Spade recited back his email address and hung up the phone. He leaned back in his chair, wondering who this Andrew Carson person really was.

  Chapter 38

  Tony rolled his shoulders, ignoring the pain. “Rex, I swear, I didn’t kill the woman in my bed. I didn’t have her carve the letter ‘L’ into my flesh and Marissa didn’t do it, either. I’m telling you the truth. I’m being set up.”

  “Who is setting you up?” Rex asked.

  Tony ran his hand down his face. The pain from pulling his skin tight felt refreshing after being cuffed. Rex had finally taken the cuffs off, but Tony was still confined to the small interrogation room.

  “Allison Underwood. She’s the one. She was at the boys’ home with me.”

  “Wait, you’re telling me they let a girl stay there? No way.”

  “She disguised herself as a boy. It caused a big stink when they found out. She was there for a few months. We treated her like crap. Almost as bad as Wuss.”

  “Who?”

  “Just another boy at the home. We were jerks, asses, really. Horrible environment for anyone, much less a girl.”

  Rex shook his head and opened the door a crack to called out, “Sally, place a call to the gym, the one on Fifth Street, and get Allison Underwood’s schedule for the past month.” Rex closed the door and took the seat across from Tony. They stared at each other for a few minutes, neither one saying a word.