Bring Me Flowers_A gripping serial-killer thriller with a shocking twist

by D. K. Hood

  “Half that time if Walters gives you a hand.” Jenna nodded. “Good thinking.”

  “Main suspects?” Kane lifted his pen expectantly.

  “We have one man in the vicinity seen coming out of the forest. Steve Rogers is a teacher, known to the victim. From his driver’s license, he weighs 195 pounds, five ten, age thirty-six. When I interviewed Aimee Fox and Kate Bright, Kate said they spoke to him on the morning of the murder around nine. She said he was looking for his dog and she made a comment about him being in a hurry.”

  “I don’t recall you mentioning him before.” Kane gave her an inquisitive look. “He ticks all the boxes and we should be shaking him down. Did they say anything else about him? Did they mention him being wet, for instance?”

  “No, she said he was in a hurry, sweating and had flowers stuck to his shoes.” She checked her notes. “I made a point of asking them about his appearance. They spoke to him close up and would have noticed, so for me that point alone is significant.”

  “I agree.” Kane scribbled notes in his book.

  Jenna made a list of suspects on the whiteboard. “Okay, I want boots on the ground today interviewing suspects. As we have already spoken to Lucky Briggs, Storm Crawley, and Derick Smith, that leaves the guy in the computer store, Lionel Provine, and Steve Rogers. Kane, you can speak to Rogers.” She glanced at Wolfe. “You will be with me today. The computer store is on the main street.” She turned to Rowley. “I want you to check Felicity’s social media.” She returned to her desk, searched for Derick Smith’s cellphone number, wrote it down, and handed it to him. “Then see if Walters has her cellphone records and check this number against incoming and outgoing calls Sunday through to Monday morning and check it against Kane’s notes. Make a note of any calls from Saturday through Monday. I want a list. I’ll give you her laptop from the evidence room before we leave and you can check her social media accounts.”

  “Unless Rowley has the necessary hacking skills, I would advise against allowing him near her computer.” Wolfe filled his cup with coffee and added cream and sugar. “Leave that part of the investigation to me, ma’am. Problem is these days most kids of her age use their laptops for schoolwork and their cellphones for social media. As we don’t have her cellphone, it will be difficult to follow her on social media without the necessary passwords. I’ll be able to get into her account.”

  “That sounds like a plan.” She glanced at Rowley. “We had better make our coffee to go.”

  “I’ll get some takeout cups.” Rowley headed to the kitchenette.

  Jenna looked from Wolfe to Kane. “I want everyone in the loop at every step of this investigation. I want you to add your interviews to the file and pertinent information to the whiteboard. I want to know at a glance where the suspects were at the time of the murder and the witnesses for their alibis.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Kane pushed his hat onto his dark head then his phone chimed. He pulled the device out of his pocket, and after bending over the screen, he whistled. “You have an email from Deep Lake’s sheriff’s department. Six months ago, they had two murders, two weeks apart, sixteen-year-old girls, almost the same M.O. They found the bodies of both victims inside their houses and believe the murders took place in the bathtub. They have no leads and all their suspects came up clean. They want to be in the loop if we find any new evidence. This could be the same man. If it is, he is escalating fast.”

  “If you forward the email to me, I’ll send them what we have on file to date.” Rowley walked into the office carrying a pile of takeout cups and lids.

  “Ask them to send the files and complete autopsy reports on both girls to me.” Wolfe frowned. “Two weeks apart.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and his pale eyes slid to Kane. “If this is the same killer, he had a break for four months before killing Felicity.”

  “If it is, then I wonder what happened to slow him down.” Kane keyed in a reply to the email and lifted his concerned gaze to Jenna.

  “Maybe he was in transit from his last killing ground?” She cleared her throat. “He has not murdered anyone here before, so we have to assume he moved here since his last kill.”

  “Or like Derick and the cowboys, he moves around a lot, like with a football team or in a rodeo and didn’t need to get his fix in his hometown. There could also be other victims in nearby towns unaccounted for, or something substantial prevented him from pursuing his activities for a while. Perhaps he was in jail. Psychopaths at this stage of madness don’t slow down, they escalate.” Kane frowned. “The fact we can determine Joanne Blunt was a thrill or opportunistic kill means he is out of control.”

  Jenna chewed on her bottom lip, thinking. “Rowley, get me a list of men recently released from jail. We have a list sent monthly, it’s in the files.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Rowley pulled out his notepad and pen. “Right away.”

  Gripped by the horror of finding another mutilated girl, Jenna pulled hard on the years of training she relied on to keep her sane and kept her tone calm and professional. She looked at Kane. “How long do you estimate we have to catch him before he kills again?”

  “It depends how much control he has over the beast.” Kane took one of the takeout cups Rowley handed him and reached for the coffee pot. “Maybe a week, maybe a couple of days, or maybe he has killed again already.” He gave her a long, steady look. “This animal enjoys killing and wants to show his skill to the world, and from Joanne Blunt’s murder, we can tell that although he prefers to plan his kills, if a suitable girl comes along, he’ll take advantage. He likes to shock and his next thrill ride could be hours away.”

  Her stomach cramped with concern for the safety of the local girls. “Then we need to move faster if we plan to catch this guy. I want you out there interviewing our suspects immediately.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Wolfe nodded in agreement.

  “Kane, when you talk to Rogers, I want to know why he was in the forest. He is married. Speak to his wife as well. Find out what you can about him, as in does he often sneak off during the day?” She picked up her car keys and coffee. “Okay, move out.”

  Twenty-Three

  He watched the girls as they chatted. The girl in the forest had been a gift but he’d wanted more time to play with her and now the ache inside was intolerable. He ran his fingers through the pile of carefully tied skeins of hair, enjoying the silky-smooth remembrance of his girls.

  His head filled with a colorful screensaver capturing their confused expressions as he gave them what they craved. Their pleas rang in his ears and he gazed down at his hands, imagining hot sticky blood dripping from his fingers. The moment Felicity’s flesh whitened, clean in the water, he felt empowered. Vivid images slashed across his brain, exciting him. I must choose another tonight.

  Aimee and Kate stared at their friends, unaware of his presence. They were so close he could almost reach out and touch them. He wanted to caress their cheeks and trace their lips with his fingers. “Eeny, meeny, miny, moe, which one of you is next to go?”

  His finger pointed to Kate.

  A rush of euphoria hit him, and in his mind, he traced his thumb across her delicate white throat, seeing the knife in his hand. He would taunt her with the glint of the sharp blade and enjoy her gasp of surprise as he cut deep. The spurt of crimson blood gurgling over his flesh would excite him, but he craved the delightful shudder they all made as life slipped away.

  Blissfully unaware of his presence, the girls chatted to their boyfriends as usual on Skype. Kate made plans to sneak out to meet Chad the following evening at the high-school football ground under the bleachers.

  “Someone will see us.” Chad ruffled his dark brown curls and grinned at her. “We could go into the gym for a time and maybe after go skinny-dippin’ in the pool. I have the combination to the locks.”

  Kate’s cheeks pinked. “I think we all have the combination. The cleaners are so dumb the janitor has to use the numbers one, two, three, and four on every lock.”
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  “So, I’ll see you tomorrow at six thirty? I’ll meet you outside the gym.”

  Kate smiled. “Sure but I’ll call you later.”

  “My dad confiscated my cellphone and laptop for twenty-four hours. I’m grounded tonight but I convinced Mom to allow Lucas to come over. He snuck in his laptop so we could talk to our girls.” His white grin flashed in a tanned face. “I’ll see you when I get out of jail.”

  The boys left and Kate turned to Aimee. “I can’t wait to see him.” Kate curled her long blonde hair around her finger. “His kisses make me tingle all over.”

  “All you ever talk about is boys. They are just boys, and Lucas looks good but he is a terrible kisser, all tongue. Now Lucky Briggs, he’s a man. All muscles and tight jeans. He is sooo hot.” Aimee chuckled.

  “He’ll never put his boots under your bed.” Kate ducked a slap from her friend. “I’m his type. My boobs are way bigger than yours and he prefers blondes. I heard him tell my brother last year.”

  “Oh, pleeeze, like I’d believe he’d turn me down. Lucas is always trying to get into my pants.”

  “I am so over watching you drool over Lucky Briggs.” Kate pulled a face. “I think I’ll head home, my mom is expecting me for lunch and if I’m five seconds late I’ll get a lecture. Since your mom told her about Felicity she won’t let me out of her sight. I want to do extra chores so she doesn’t bug me when I’m supposedly in my room playing games tomorrow night.” She bounced to her feet and tucked a strand of long blonde hair behind one ear. “Why don’t you call Felicity again, you might find out what happened to her.”

  “I’ve tried and I called the house, no one is answering the phone.” Aimee scowled as she watched Kate head for the door. “No one is saying anything.”

  A tingle of excitement skittered up his spine. Confidence flowed over him; he had chosen well and everything he needed would be at hand. He stared at Kate for a few moments longer. Her name lingered in his mind for a millisecond then faded. Once he had made his choice, their names vanished from his thoughts.

  They meant nothing to him.

  Twenty-Four

  Kane drove down the main street and noticed Jenna’s cruiser parked at the curb. She and Wolfe would be interviewing Lionel Provine. He checked the time then headed to Stanton Road. His next stop would be to interview Mr. Rogers—the teacher Aimee and Kate spoke to on the morning of Felicity’s death. The trip would give him an accurate travel time for Derick Smith’s car delivery on Monday morning. As the two people lived relatively close to each other, he would drop by to speak to Mrs. Bolton and check the timeline.

  Heading downtown, traffic slowed in a procession toward the fairgrounds. The influx of visitors and the number of people crowding the streets surprised him. The line outside Aunt Betty’s Café went halfway round the block. He smiled. Being a local deputy had benefits. Earlier, he’d walked past the waiting customers, and Susie Hartwig had filled his order at once, all smiles and blushes. The tempting smell of fresh coffee wafted through the window and the sign advertising apple pie à la mode called to him, but he ground his back teeth together, promising the ever persistent rumbling stomach he’d drop by later.

  He arrived at Mrs. Bolton’s address and an elderly woman was outside weeding her garden. “Mrs. Bolton?”

  “That’s me. What can I do for you deputy?”

  Kane took out his notepad and smiled at her. “I gather you had your car repaired at George’s Garage? Do you recall what time Derick Smith dropped it by and how long he was here?”

  “Yes, I do. I was eating breakfast so it was around eight.” She wiped her hands on her apron. “He was only here a few minutes. I had a check ready—they had given me a quote—and I gave him the keys to the loaner. He left straight away.”

  Kane made a few notes. “So, less or more than ten minutes?”

  “More like five.” She screwed up her eyes at him. “Is there a problem?”

  Kane closed his notepad. “No not at all. Thank you for your help.” He touched his hat and strolled back to his car. Next stop Rogers.

  The house at number 206 Stanton Road was an impressive log home with a wide veranda out front, similar in style to most of the homes in this end of town. He pulled his vehicle into the driveway, made a note of the time of arrival, and headed up the steps. A dog barked from inside and he could hear a man’s voice and footsteps. Before he had time to knock, the door opened and a man in his thirties stepped onto the porch.

  Dressed in uniform, Kane’s arrival would usually cause a modicum of concern, but Mr. Rogers’ expression gave no clue to his inner thoughts. “Mr. Rogers?”

  “I am.” The man folded his arms against his chest. “Lovely day, don’t you think?”

  Taken slightly aback, Kane nodded. “Yeah, it sure is pretty around here in the summer.” He reached inside his pocket for his notepad. “I’m Deputy David Kane and I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  “I know who you are.” Rogers let out a long sigh. “Which kid has got themselves into trouble this time?”

  “Why would you believe I’m here for that reason?”

  “It’s summer break.” Rogers shuffled his feet, impatiently. “I’m not available to help them maneuver around the cyberbullying rampant online at the moment. I guess a parent complained and you came straight to me to sort out the problem?”

  Kane straightened and shook his head. “No, and we have resources to handle a variety of cybercrimes in the department. I came to question you about something entirely different. I need you to account for your movements between the hours of eight and ten on Monday morning.”

  “Monday morning?” Rogers appeared agitated. “In relation to what? I am entitled to know if I am a suspect in a crime before I answer your questions.”

  Why are you being so defensive? “We received a complaint about an incident that occurred between the hours of eight and ten on Monday morning and I am speaking to people seen in the area.” He met his gaze with a hard stare. “Would you mind telling me what you were doing in Stanton Forest before nine?”

  “I don’t have to tell you anything.” Rogers scowled at him. “I have the right to remain silent.”

  Kane nodded. “I wasn’t arresting you but I think we’ll take this conversation down town. Do you want to call your lawyer? He can meet us at the sheriff’s office.”

  “This is police harassment.” Rogers stepped back inside the house and Kane could see him punching numbers into a landline telephone.

  He reached for his cellphone and, eyeballing Rogers, called Jenna. “I need to bring in Mr. Rogers for questioning.”

  “The school teacher? Why?”

  “He refuses to answer my questions, is acting real weird, and we have two witnesses who put him in the right place at the right time. We have probable cause. I’m staying here to watch him. Will you send someone out with the arrest warrant? I want to do this straight down the line.”

  “Sure. I’m waiting for Lionel Provine to show. He’s had an ‘out to lunch’ sign on his door for over an hour. I’ll arrange the documents now and come out to your location.”

  Kane huffed a sigh of relief. “Thanks. Will you be able to take him to the office? I haven’t finished talking to people in the area.”

  “Not a problem. Wolfe is riding shotgun.”

  “Okay, I’ll be close behind you. I have to check on an alibi. It shouldn’t take long.”

  “I’ll bring coffee.”

  The line went dead and Kane leaned back against the porch railing and folded his arms. His gaze fixed on the movements of the man inside the house. Rogers fitted the profile and was as jumpy as a cat on a hot tin roof. Guilty men usually demanded their rights from the get go. Most people are happy to clear their names and answer questions to convince him they are innocent.

  The wide windows and open drapes gave him an almost unrestricted view inside the house. A nicely furnished family room with a Chinese rug led to an open-plan kitchen, and a staircase led to the
floor above. His attention moved over the man talking fast on the phone and he remembered Jenna mentioning Rogers was married. Yet with all the yelling, he had not seen a woman moving around the house. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. He wanted to kick down the door and do a complete search of the property but hunches did not constitute probable cause.

  His life had been easy before moving to Black Rock Falls. Find the target, one bullet, one kill, or hang around and protect the president. Now, living as deputy, following procedure, and making a solid case to hand on to the prosecutor, he had to do everything by the book. He scowled at the man cowering in the hallway, his telephone fixed to his ear, and he wanted to scream in frustration. If this maggot is our killer, I hope he tries to run.

  Twenty-Five

  With Mr. Rogers safely locked in a cell, Jenna headed back out with Deputy Wolfe to see if Lionel Provine had returned to his store. Kids ten years old and up packed the computer store, which appeared to be an old feed supply conversion. The vast display of various devices on sale and the flat screens devoted to the latest games filled the front of the store. Toward the back area, groups of kids huddled around samples of the latest devices. Jenna noted the chains connecting each device to the tables and smiled. Mr. Provine was no fool. Along the front window, kids sat along a long bench engrossed in games, no doubt taking advantage of the free Wi-Fi on offer.

  She glanced around, searching for the proprietor, and her attention landed on a tall man wearing glasses, bending over a computer, and surrounded by teenage girls. Raising her voice over the noise of battling gameplay, she turned to Wolfe. “That’s Mr. Provine. As you know more about computers than me, will you take the lead on this interview?”