All The Dead Girls
Page 8
Nick stood near the restaurant entrance, under the overhang of the second story and texted Harry: “I’m here.”
Did Harry believe him?
Will he ask me to murder someone to prove that I love to kill?
Will he meet me himself or will he send his partner?
Nick looked at the people approaching the motel/restaurant building and saw Sam among them.
Was Sam the killer after all?
Sam glanced at him and went into the convenience store.
Nick was staring at the bus when a dark-haired man in a gray T-shirt and blue jeans came up and stood beside him. He was in his late twenties, well-built, and as tall as Nick, who was six feet one. Nick recognized him: the guy had sat a few rows behind him on the bus to Houston, close to the restroom. He sat four or five rows behind Nick and Holly on the bus to Miami.
Was he Harry?
Nick had caught the man’s face on camera, but he had been wearing sunglasses when Nick filmed him.
“How’s it going, George?” the guy said.
He was the killer.
“Fine.”
“I’m Harry.”
“Nice to meet you, Harry.”
“Follow me.” Harry opened the restaurant door and stepped inside. Nick went in after him.
The killer kept his sunglasses on, perhaps because there were security cameras in the restaurant.
Nick could tell Harry didn’t have a gun in any of his pockets or his waistband. However, he might be carrying an ankle gun; the legs of his jeans were wide enough to accommodate it.
“Can I have my phone back?” Harry asked.
He didn’t want to do the exchange outside because he thought that Holly might be watching them, Nick guessed. He was sure Holly was watching them. Had she been able to make out the colors of Harry’s T-shirt and pants?
Nick pulled out the killer’s cell and handed it to Harry. The killer opened the message inbox, then tapped the Gallery icon, and then slid the phone into his pocket.
“Let’s go outside,” Harry said.
They left the restaurant and started walking along the building, away from the bus.
Where were they going? Was Harry’s partner waiting for them there?
They reached the end of the building and kept moving.
“Are you telling the truth, George? Are you really a killer?” Harry asked.
“Yes, I am.”
Nick kept an eye on Harry’s hands in case the killer pulled out a knife.
“Swear on your mother’s life?”
They stopped halfway between the motel/restaurant building and a group of parked eighteen-wheelers.
Nick said, “I never swear on my mother’s life. I swear on my life that I’m telling the truth.”
Harry stared at him for a long moment and then said, “So what’s your real name?”
“Nick.”
“Where are you from?”
“Dallas. You?”
“Irving.”
“Did you kill Veronica?”
“No. What makes you think she's been murdered?”
“She got off the bus in Buffalo and never came back. Holly thinks you killed her.”
“I didn’t kill her. She’s probably alive. By the way, where’s Holly?”
“I told her to stay in the bus.”
Chapter 21
1
He doesn’t look like a serial killer, Castor thought as he watched Osiris chat with the guy his partner believed to be a serial killer.
Well, Osiris and Castor didn’t look like serial murderers, either.
His van was parked about a hundred feet from the motel/restaurant building, and he had a good view of the area in front of it from his position. Castor hoped that Osiris’s new acquaintance couldn’t see him, but it was okay with him if he could: the guy had no way of guessing he was Osiris’s partner.
He had put on another wig and dress after telling Osiris about Veronica’s blood type. His police scanner was on, currently tuned to the Beaumont Police dispatch frequency (Osiris was afraid Holly Williams might call the cops). Castor also monitored the frequencies of the Vidor Police Department and the Jefferson and Orange County sheriff’s offices.
Castor put the binoculars down.
Was Osiris thinking about adding that guy to their team? Was that a good idea?
Three people could do much more damage than two, couldn’t they?
Three Amigos.
Castor smiled. He loved that movie. An oldie but goodie.
Would Osiris’s new acquaintance think that he liked to wear women’s clothes? Would he think that Castor was a closeted homosexual?
He would explain to the guy that male crossdressers were perceived to be harmless as far as women were concerned. When you saw a man in drag pushing a sleeping woman in a wheelchair, you didn’t think he intended to kidnap and rape her: according to conventional wisdom, crossdressers weren’t interested in having sex with women, and therefore they would never rape one.
Was Holly Williams watching the two men? She had been nowhere in sight when he last scanned the parking lot. The bus might be blocking her from his view. If she sat on the right side of the bus, she could watch them without leaving her seat.
Osiris was going to suggest to his new acquaintance that they rape and kill Holly. He had told Castor that they might do it without him.
What did Osiris’s new acquaintance like to do to his victims? Did he torture them? Had he ever eaten any of them? What was his favorite way to kill? Castor liked to strangle his victims with his bare hands.
2
A white semitruck pulled into the rest stop and rumbled toward the back of the lot.
“Is Holly your friend?” Harry hooked his thumbs in his pockets.
“No.”
“Tell Holly that if she calls the police and I get arrested, my friend will kill her parents.”
He does have a partner.
“Do you and your friend kill together?” Nick asked.
“Sometimes.”
“Where is he?”
“Home.”
Was he telling the truth? His friend might be on this bus.
Maybe Sam was Harry’s partner?
I said he and Harry didn’t correct me. Is his friend a man?
“How many have you killed?” Nick asked.
“Ten.”
Ten victims wasn’t particularly impressive, which was why Nick thought Harry was not exaggerating.
“Do you only kill women?”
Was Harry going to stay in Beaumont?
Nick wanted to ask Harry if he would get back on the bus but was afraid the killer would get suspicious.
“Yes,” Harry said.
“When when did you start doing it?”
“Two years ago. You?”
“About two years ago.”
“How many have you killed?”
“Seven.”
Nick picked a number under ten so Harry wouldn’t feel inferior.
“Did you take pictures?”
“No, that’s too risky. Do you bang the women before killing them?”
“Yes. Do you?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you use condoms?”
“Of course.”
“You have to be really careful. Remember the Golden State Killer? He was caught because of DNA. What a loser.”
“Yeah.”
Harry scratched the back of his neck. “Two serial killers riding the same bus. What are the odds of that? I think the Universe wanted us to meet.” He smiled.
Nick smiled, too. “What was your original destination?”
“New Orleans. Why are you going to Miami?”
“To relax. I’m on vacation.”
Nick glanced at his watch. 6:49 p.m.
“Did Holly send the pictures to anyone?” Harry asked.
“She sent them to herself. Is that a problem?”
Was Harry going to stay in Beaumont?
“You want to do somethin
g together, Nick?”
“What do you mean?”
Nick had a good idea of what Harry meant.
“This Holly chick, do you like her?” Harry’s lips curved in a playful smile.
“Yeah. She’s cute.”
“Have you thought of having some fun with her?”
Nick nodded. “Yeah.”
“I’ll help you kill her. What do you say?”
Did he suggest killing Holly because he doesn’t believe I’m a serial killer?
What would he do if I refused to kill her?
“Sure. Is your friend going to join us?” Nick said.
“Do you want him to?”
He said him. His partner was a man.
“Yes.”
“I’ll ask him to join us.”
“When are we going to kill her?”
“Tonight.”
“Where? In Baton Rouge?”
Did Harry’s partner live near Baton Rouge?
“Let me talk to my friend. I’ll text you.”
“Okay.”
Harry would get back on the bus, and would be on it at least for the next three hours. Nick would have plenty of time to plan his next moves.
“Is Holly really going to Tallahassee?” Harry asked.
“No. She’s going to Miami. By the way, how do you know where she lives?”
“I saw her phone number on her suitcase tag and I did a reverse lookup on it. Is that her current address?”
Nick thought of asking if it was a cop who had done the reverse lookup for Harry, and decided not to.
Did he do a reverse lookup on my phone number?
“Yes.”
Was Harry going to get back on the bus after they killed Holly?
“Would you like to go to Miami with me?” Nick asked.
“Let me think about it.”
Nick checked his watch and said, “It’s six fifty-two. Let’s get back on the bus.”
“Go ahead, I’ll follow. I don’t want Holly to see us together.”
“Okay.” Nick started toward the bus.
What if Harry lied? What if he’s planning to stay in Beaumont?
Nick didn’t look back as he walked to the bus, thinking Harry might find that suspicious. When he reached the bus, he glanced back and was glad to see that the killer was following about fifty feet behind him.
Chapter 22
1
Holly was in her seat when Nick got on the bus.
“I met him,” Nick whispered to her.
A young woman and a little boy sat in front of Nick, an elderly man and woman sat behind him, and a middle-aged woman sat across the aisle from him. Nick was pretty sure that the old guy wasn’t Harry’s partner, and there could be no doubt that the boy wasn’t the killer’s partner, either.
“Did he stay in Beaumont?”
Nick handed the nail file back to Holly. “No.”
Harry appeared in the aisle, and his and Nick’s eyes met briefly as he walked to his seat.
“Did you give him back his phone?” Holly asked.
“Yes.”
Harry sat five rows behind Nick and Holly, on the same side of the bus. The seat next to him was empty.
Was Harry’s partner on the bus?
Had the killer sat alone on the bus to Houston?
Had Harry’s partner been on the bus to Houston?
“Where does he sit?” Holly asked.
“He just walked by. The guy in the gray T-shirt, that was him. Don’t look at him.”
A thin, black-haired woman in her thirties slipped into the empty seat across the aisle from Nick.
“Did you record the conversation?”
“Yes.”
“Did he confess?”
Nick nodded. “He said he’s murdered ten women. I asked him about Veronica. He said he didn’t kill her. I think he’s lying.”
“Of course he’s lying.”
Nick plugged his earbuds into his phone and opened the voice recorder app. There was one file in the recordings library and it was only fifty-three seconds long.
“I must’ve accidentally stopped recording,” Nick said.
He listened to the recording and found that it ended before Harry came up to him.
“Dammit,” he said. “I stopped recording before I met him.”
“Shit.”
As the bus pulled out of the rest stop, Holly asked, “Did he tell you his real name?”
“I didn’t ask.”
Nick played the video he had filmed this afternoon and found that an Asian woman in her thirties had sat next to Harry on the bus to Houston. She couldn’t be the killer’s partner because his partner was a man.
Harry had indeed been wearing sunglasses when Nick filmed him.
Nick opened Harry’s screenshot and showed it to Holly. “This is him.”
“Where does he sit?”
“Five rows behind us, on the right side of the bus.”
“Where is he getting off?”
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe we should call the Baton Rouge police?”
“We can’t call the police.”
“Why?”
“He said that if he gets arrested, his partner will kill your parents. I don't think he'll have any trouble finding them.”
Should he tell Holly about Harry’s suggestion? How would she react?
“Oh my God.” Holly frowned. “So what are we going to do?”
“I think his partner might be on this bus.”
If I were Harry’s partner, where would I sit?
If they were on a hunting trip, they would probably sit far from each other to make it look like they didn’t know each other.
“Nick, we have to do something. We can’t let him get away.”
He could get Harry to talk about his murders again and record the conversation (this time he would make sure his phone was recording).
“He suggested that he and I kill you. I think he wants me to prove I’m a serial killer.”
“Jesus Christ.” Holly’s eyes widened. “When does he want to do it?”
“Tonight.”
“Oh my God.”
They couldn’t kill Holly on the bus, and the next stop, Baton Rouge, was two and a half hours away.
He and Holly had at least two and a half hours to come up with a plan.
“I have an idea,” Nick said. “We could entrap him.”
“How?”
“I’ll pretend to go along with his plan, and when he tries to kill you, I’ll arrest him.”
Holly thought for a long time and then said, “I like your plan.”
“You know, when he attacks you, we'll be within our rights to kill him. Do you think we should kill him?”
“How are we going to kill him? You have no weapons.”
“I could borrow a knife from Harry.”
You didn't really need a weapon to kill someone; he could end Harry’s life by smashing his head against the pavement.
“Okay.” Holly nodded. “Let’s do it.”
“Can I borrow your tablet?”
“Sure.” Holly took out her tablet and gave it to him.
Nick opened Google Maps on Holly’s tablet, looked up the Baton Rouge bus station, and switched to satellite view.
“Where do you think we should lure him?” he said.
There were a gas station and a car service center across the street from the bus station. Its neighbor on the left was a vital records unit and on the right a convenience store. Behind the bus station was a halfway house, which told Nick it was not an attractive neighborhood.
It would be dark when they arrived in Baton Rouge, so they could stage the attack on Holly outside. The nearest woods were half a mile away, which was a ten-minute walk. Would Harry agree to go that far?
The bus stopped in Baton Rouge for half an hour, so he and Harry would have less than ten minutes to kill Holly. Was that enough for Harry?
“Have you been to Baton Rouge?” Holly asked.
“How about this place?” Holly pointed at a small cemetery three blocks from the bus station.
“There’s nowhere to hide there,” Nick said. “You can see the whole cemetery from the street. We need a somewhat secluded place.”
“Maybe there’s an abandoned house nearby.”
Nick brought up the street view of the bus station, looked around, then moved down the street to the vital records unit and discovered that its first floor was a garage with no walls. They could stage the attack on Holly in the garage. The unit would be closed when they arrived in Baton Rouge, so there would be no witnesses.
There might be security cameras in the garage and it was probably lit at night.
“I’m thinking of suggesting these woods.” Nick pointed at the woods near Spanish Town Park, half a mile from the bus station.
Holly nodded. “I think it’s a good place.”
“The problem is, it’s kinda far.”
“I don’t think it’s far.”
“The bus stops in Baton Rouge for thirty minutes. This thing might take longer than that.”
“That’s okay. Do you think we should call the police after we kill him?”
“You want to call the police?”
Holly shook her head.
“Let’s not call them,” Nick said.
“Okay. Can you look up the airport?”
Nick typed “airport” into the search bar and then clicked on Baton Rouge Metropolitan Airport.
“How far is it from the bus station?”
According to Google Maps, the fastest route from the bus station to Baton Rouge Metropolitan Airport was seven miles.
“You want to take a plane to Miami?” Nick asked.
“No. Airport car rental offices are usually open late. We can rent a car and catch up with the bus in New Orleans.” Holly pulled out her ticket. “The bus leaves New Orleans at half past midnight. How far is New Orleans from Baton Rouge?”
The fastest route from Baton Rouge to New Orleans was eighty-seven miles. If he ignored the speed limit, he could cover this distance in a little over an hour. They would have to leave Baton Rouge no later than 11:20 p.m. to make it in time.
Nick searched for car rental offices in New Orleans and found one only a third of a mile from the New Orleans bus station.
“I can return the car, if you want,” Holly said. “I just want to get my suitcase.”