by C. M. Sutter
Jade rolled her eyes. “Great. What’s in the Cop Training 101 manual?”
“Not to tell strangers anything about our personal lives.”
“Ding, ding, ding, you’re correct. Don’t encourage Kate to engage with him. Maybe her infatuation will fade away and they’ll never cross paths again.”
I nodded. “I promise, I won’t.”
Once Kate sat down in the living room with us, Jade took over the evening conversations. I knew Kate would let go of her anger with me by tomorrow, so for now, I’d give her the space she needed.
Chapter 14
Tuesday morning as he sat at the table in that less than luxurious attached room, he went over his plan of action. He believed the space had once been a screened porch that had been closed in and turned into a daily rental.
Warren checked the time; he’d leave in fifteen minutes. A sharp pocketknife, wire cutters, and a few minutes of privacy were all he needed to succeed in his plan to take Jade’s life. He’d wait at the intersection near the Eastside Mall. She had to pass that location as she drove to work. Once she was inside the building and their workday had begun, Warren would sneak in at the back of the parking lot and do what he needed to do. Jade Monroe would be checked off his list, and he’d have twelve thousand bucks owed him upon proof of her death.
It would be a long day of waiting and watching for her to leave, but by the time she hit the freeway, it would be well worth it. Kate Pierce would be next on his list. If she had an ounce of sense, she’d watch over her shoulder, especially after dark.
Chapter 15
Jack began the morning updates as he did most days. Once our meeting was over, Clayton and I would head to Milwaukee, and Billings and Kate would coordinate with the city officers and take care of things in North Bend.
Billings poured the coffee, and we pulled out our notepads.
Jack put a fist over his mouth and cleared his throat then began reading the coroner’s report. “Lena completed the autopsy report, and I’ve looked it over. The blood work has been sent to Madison to the toxicology lab, but it’s unlikely that Marvin had any illegal substances in his body. It’s just the typical formality.” He sucked in a deep breath and read the report aloud. “Okay, here we go. Victim’s time of death was likely between noon and three p.m. on Sunday. He was a seventy-four-year-old male that stood five foot ten and weighed one hundred and seventy-six pounds. His internal organs looked healthy for a man that age, and he had no signs of surgical scars. There are no visible tattoos on the body. Cause of death was a direct shot to the front of the skull with a .45-caliber bullet, according to the slug Todd pulled out of the wall. Two postmortem throat wounds were found, likely from a very sharp, smooth-edged pocketknife. The killer may have inflicted those injuries as a calling card, but we don’t know that for sure. There wasn’t a logical reason to cut Marvin’s throat at all since he was already dead, so that act must mean something to the perp.” Jack looked around the table. “Any questions so far?”
We shrugged and remained quiet.
“Okay, for now the police department has secured Kate’s old apartment. Todd and Billy fingerprinted every surface inside that unit—every doorknob and door, the stair railing, and the door at the building’s entrance and vestibule. A lot of people go in and out of that building, so it’s going to take a while to see if we get a hit to a known felon.” He tipped his chin toward Clayton and me. “Go to Milwaukee and see what you can learn about the son and daughter. Billings and Kate, head downtown, meet up with the city boys, exchange notes, and then head out.” He reached into his file on Marvin and pulled out the bagged house key that I had given him last night. “Here’s the key to the Myers home. There’s no need to break in when we have a key. Just don’t lose it. Go through Marvin’s paperwork and all his files. We could be barking up the wrong tree altogether. Maybe this is the work of somebody that Marvin could have been in business with or a disgruntled tenant in the retail sense. You never know.” Jack slapped his hands together. “Head out and keep me informed.”
As Clayton and I walked out, I glanced at Kate through the wall of glass. She didn’t look up. We crossed the parking lot to our cruiser, and I asked Clayton, “How do you feel about me mentioning Kate’s dream at our meeting last night?”
Clayton frowned. “What do you mean? I don’t feel anything about it. Am I supposed to?”
“Kate is still pissed at me for bringing it up. She thinks I spoke out of turn.”
“She’s a psychic detective, for Pete’s sake. It’s her job to talk about those things.”
I let out a long sigh. “I thought the same, but I told her I’d never talk about her dreams again. I figured that would end the cold shoulder treatment I’m getting, but it hasn’t. Either way, from now on, she’ll have to decide if her nightmares are something worth sharing.”
Forty-five minutes later, Clayton pulled into the Bayside driveway of Megan Shultz. Megan’s home, only five blocks from Lake Michigan, looked like a typical 1980s-style ranch— except that it was a sprawling one. Each home on Liberty Lane appeared to be custom built with a beautifully landscaped yard and large trees. The neighborhood was obviously an established one, well kept, and the homes were likely owned by upper middle-class people. We climbed out of the cruiser and walked up the driveway.
“Either her husband has a great job or Megan was good at pulling Daddy’s heart and purse strings.”
Clayton smirked. “This house looks like it’s worth a half million bucks.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, “they all do.” I pressed the bell, and a woman with a toddler wrapped around her leg answered the door.
“Can I help you?”
Clayton took over. “Ma’am, we’re from the Washburn County Sheriff’s Office. We’re Detectives Clayton and Monroe. We need to have a few words with you.”
Megan sighed yet appeared a bit agitated. “My mom told me to expect you.” She pulled the door open wider. “Come in.” She picked up the little girl and carried her to the kitchen. We followed at her back. “Have a seat. I hope this won’t take long.”
She seemed detached and distracted. It was obvious she knew of Marvin’s death since she said she had already spoken with Nancy. I didn’t notice red, swollen eyes or any other signs that she had been crying over the loss of her dad.
“Mrs. Shultz, are we keeping you from something?”
“Yeah, my morning TV shows and my daughter’s playtime.”
“You are aware that your father passed away yesterday, aren’t you?” I asked.
“I am, so why are you here?”
“We need information. We understand you and your brother stand to inherit everything. Is that correct?”
“Yes, except his million-dollar life insurance policy. Mom guilted him into keeping her listed as his beneficiary.”
“A million dollars?” I glanced at Chad. “Does that make you angry?”
She shrugged. “I know where you’re going with this.” She bounced her daughter on her knee. “Shawn and I will get plenty from Dad’s estate. Mom won’t have a reason to bug us about money if she has her own little pot of gold.”
“So you don’t get along with your mom?”
“I didn’t say I don’t, and I didn’t say I do. It is what it is. I’m sure Shawn feels the same way.”
I leaned across the table. “And how do you feel, Megan? You’re indifferent about your mother, and you don’t seem to care that your dad is dead.”
Her lip turned up in a snarl. “My relationship with my mother and father is none of your business.”
I looked her straight in the eye. “It is if you had anything to do with your dad’s death. You do realize he was murdered, don’t you?”
“That’s what Mom said. Dad was a tough businessman and pissed off a lot of people. Go interrogate them.”
Clayton set his pen on the table. “Where were you Sunday afternoon?”
“Right here at home between grocery shopping and running errands.”
>
“Can anybody corroborate that?” I asked.
“Of course, my husband can. He stayed home with Bethany while I was out.”
“So you were actually alone. How long were you gone?”
“A few hours. Are we done here?” She stood and motioned us toward the door.
“We are for now, but don’t leave town. We may need to speak with you again.”
Megan smirked. “I hadn’t intended to go anywhere.”
Clayton and I returned to the car and headed to our next location—Mattish Industries. Shawn was about to be questioned just as his sister had been. The fact that he was at work made no difference to us. He could find his own way to explain our visit to his boss.
“Megan was a piece of work, don’t you agree?”
I looked at Clayton as he merged back onto the freeway. “Yeah, I don’t get a warm, cozy feeling from her, but she is a woman, and the upstairs neighbor swears she heard two men talking from Kate’s old apartment.”
Clayton nodded. “She can go on the back burner for now, but that doesn’t mean she’s innocent.”
Mattish Industries was six exits south in the heart of Milwaukee’s Menomonee River Valley. We exited Interstate 43 and took surface streets the rest of the way.
Clayton cracked his neck as he pulled up to the guard gate and showed his credentials.
The guard allowed us through and pointed toward the expansive parking lot. “The visitors’ entrance is right next to that American flag.”
Clayton nodded a thank-you, and we continued on.
“So what does Mattish make?” I asked.
“Nuts and bolts, I guess. Isn’t that what most factories make?”
I chuckled, then we climbed out of the cruiser and entered through the main set of doors. Beyond a nice lobby with potted plants were several offices to our left and right. We entered the first office on our right, which had a plaque above the door that read Human Resources. We had to start somewhere. A large room stood in front of us with at least six desks separated by cubicles. One woman sat behind a desk at the entrance—the gatekeeper and likely the one we needed to speak with, anyway.
We pulled out our badges and introduced ourselves, then Clayton told the woman we needed to speak with Shawn Myers.
“Do you know what department he works in?” she asked.
Clayton furrowed his brows. “Why would I? This is Human Resources, correct? There’s a computer right in front of you.”
“One moment.”
I looked at Clayton and rolled my eyes. I couldn’t understand how our generation had become so lazy, especially with modern technology at their fingertips.
“He works in production, sir. He can’t leave the area until break time, when they shut down the line.”
“He needs to speak with us now, so tell his boss to replace him until our conversation with Shawn is complete.”
“Do you know—” She stopped herself before she finished the sentence. “It’ll be a few minutes while I track down his supervisor.” She pointed at the lobby. “You can wait out there for now. I’ll let you know when you can expect him.”
I sighed and walked out as Clayton tipped his wrist and checked the time. “She’s got five minutes, and then I’m going back in there.” He plopped down on a love seat and grabbed a home improvement magazine. I pulled out my phone to check for messages—there weren’t any. I reached for a fashion magazine just as we were called back into the Human Resources office.
“That’s more like it, less than five minutes,” Clayton said as we approached the counter.
“Joe Saxon, Mr. Myers’s boss, is on his way out. He wants to know why you need to disrupt his production line.”
I could almost see smoke coming out of Clayton’s ears. I had to hold back my laughter. Seconds later, a slender man, seeming overly stressed, rounded the corner and stood in front of us.
“What is this about? I have quotas to meet every day and no extra people to fill in.”
“Sorry for your problem, Mr. Saxon. Now where is Shawn Myers?” Clayton asked.
“He’s on the assembly line where he’s supposed to be.”
“I’d suggest getting him right now. We aren’t here to waste anybody’s time, especially our own.” Clayton tipped his wrist again. “You’ve got five minutes to produce Mr. Myers or I’ll have the Milwaukee police arrest you for obstruction.”
He snarled at Clayton. “You’ve got to be shitting me!”
“Not even on your best day. Your time begins now.”
Chapter 16
“That guy was a real tool,” Clayton said as we walked out of Mattish Industries.
“Which one, Shawn or Mr. Saxon? They both seemed like tools to me.”
Clayton smirked. “They both were, but mostly Shawn. We need to call his buddy Larry and ask if Shawn was actually at his house watching football all day Sunday.” Clayton climbed into the driver’s seat and fastened his seat belt. “Guess we ought to head back to North Bend. It’s already one o’clock.”
I fastened my belt too and settled in. “Seems like sarcasm runs in that family, but I wonder why. You’d think Megan and Shawn would feel fortunate for everything Marvin had given them throughout their lives. Now they get the whole enchilada, yet they’re both snobs.”
“I’d call that spoiled and feeling entitled even though they did nothing to deserve the money they’re about to inherit.”
I nodded. “I know one thing for sure.”
Clayton glanced at me. “Yeah, kiddo? What’s that?”
“Jade and I have earned everything we have, and it feels good.”
Clayton squeezed my shoulder then pulled out onto the street. “What’s your take on Shawn?”
“He could be a possible suspect. Working in a factory is a bit different than the lifestyle Megan has. Maybe he’s hard up for money and needed his inheritance sooner rather than later.”
“We’ll pull his financials when we get back to the office. They might tell us a different story than he did.”
Chapter 17
After a half pack of cigarettes and hours of watching the parking lot, Warren finally had a chance to make his move. Earlier that morning, as he was about to crawl under Jade’s Mustang, a group of backpack-wearing teenagers cut through the parking lot on their way to school. Twenty minutes later, two women left the FBI building in a personal vehicle. A half hour after that, a man left the building and drove away in a cruiser.
Warren was becoming frustrated. Now with everyone back from lunch, he waited fifteen minutes then crept out of his car and scurried along the fence line until he was at the back of the Mustang. The ravine at the edge of the parking lot hid him well. Even if somebody looked out the back windows of the building, they probably wouldn’t notice him with the cars parked side by side.
The task would take only a few minutes, and Warren slipped on the headlamp as soon as he crawled under the car. He found the front flex lines and made small punctures with the tip of his knife. Then he scooted to the rear of the Mustang. A partial cut in the metal lines with his wire cutters would make the brakes fail but not fully until she reached the freeway. He watched as slow drips of brake fluid puddled on the pavement beneath the car.
He inched his way out, brushed off the back of his pants, and left the way he had come in. Warren jogged across the street and climbed into his car. With another few hours to wait, he got comfortable with a bird’s-eye view of the exit and lit another cigarette. He’d sit there until her workday was over then follow close behind her on the freeway. He couldn’t wait to see the chain reaction of cars piling up that would cause her death.
Chapter 18
It was a long day of waiting, but the time had finally arrived. Warren watched intently, squinting to see clearer as the cars exited the FBI satellite office’s parking lot. Four cars had already left by the time he saw the black Mustang pull out. A smile crossed his face as he turned the key in the ignition and clicked his blinker. He entered the same lane of
traffic Jade was in. She’d merge onto the freeway in two blocks.
Warren moved to the center lane and fell back a few cars once they were on the freeway. He wanted to stay out of harm’s way when the realization hit her that she had no stopping power. She’d likely smack into the back bumper of the car in front of her and start a chain reaction of crashes. Crunched between two vehicles at freeway speeds wouldn’t be the best outcome for Jade Monroe.
Cars were slowing ahead near Brown Deer Road. Earlier that day, Warren had seen cars slamming on their brakes in both directions at that freeway entrance and exit. Now, with rush hour traffic, it was a sure bet.
“Here we go.” Brake lights flashed in the sea of traffic before him. The entrance to merge onto the freeway was a half mile ahead. People were cutting in and out of lanes. He slapped the steering wheel with excitement. Jade’s Mustang was still in the right lane, and the freeway was full of cars going fifty miles an hour as they neared the backup. The bottleneck was getting closer as more cars merged onto the freeway. The interstate would become a parking lot until everyone passed Brown Deer Road.
Warren let off the gas and slipped farther back in traffic. He’d rather be an observer than a participant. A quarter mile ahead, cars were breaking as others zipped across multiple lanes of traffic to exit the freeway. He watched Jade’s car closely. The Mustang’s brake lights flickered several times, then they turned solid red, but her car wasn’t slowing down. Warren scrunched his face and gritted his teeth. He couldn’t stop himself from watching the carnage that was about to begin.
The trunk of the car in front of Jade was getting dangerously close to her hood. She swerved toward the guardrail but smashed into the car’s right back fender, anyway. The car behind Jade veered left to avoid her and smashed into the car three lengths ahead of Warren. That car crashed into the one in front of it. The chain reaction was in full swing. A NASCAR-style pileup was under way. Warren hit his hazard lights and pumped the brakes just as the next car slammed into the back right bumper of the Mustang. He checked his rearview mirror and quickly swerved to the shoulder. He’d be the Good Samaritan and render aid.
