by D. K. Hood
Kane chuckled. “Sometimes we do good deeds, like finding the owners of valuables. I’m pretty sure the ring handed in to the sheriff’s department this morning belongs to him but he’ll have to prove he was at the right place at the right time to claim it.”
“He was out last night with Storm. They went to the Triple Z Bar, left ’bout six, came back sometime after ten.” His mouth turned up into a cocky grin. “Tell Lucky Zeke expects a reward.”
Not familiar with the place in question, Kane nodded. “Sure. I’ll go and find him at the fairgrounds. Thank you for your time.”
On the way back to his SUV, he called Rowley to ask about the Triple Z Bar. Raised in Black Rock Falls, the young deputy was a fountain of local information. “What else can you tell me about the place?”
“It’s off the main highway, past the campus, and open Monday through Saturday nights. It’s a dive, serves beer and hard liquor, probably moonshine, but not everyone can pay the Cattleman’s Hotel prices. Cowboys from the local ranches go there, and there are usually brawls. It’s not a place I would go to pick up a woman. Let’s say they are a little free with their favors, if you get my meaning.”
He rubbed his cheek. “How come nobody has mentioned this place before now?”
“No one is going to put in a complaint, are they? Trust me, they don’t want the law showing up there. If the mayor closes the Triple Z, there isn’t another bar for miles. The owner of the Cattleman’s Hotel runs the bar at the fairgrounds and the Lark’s arena. He has a dress code, and smelly, hard-working guys straight off the ranch are not permitted.”
“How far is the Triple Z from the college campus?”
“Three miles, I’d guess.”
“Which places Lucky Briggs and Storm Crawley in the area of Kate Bright’s murder at the right time. Sheriff Alton saw them at Aunt Betty’s Café on our way back from the murder scene.” He sighed. “I’m going to speak to Briggs and Crawley now, tell the sheriff what I’ve discovered.”
“Okay.”
Kane disconnected and climbed behind the wheel. As he drove toward his destination, his thoughts centered on the investigation. Following his profiling, the cowboys had moved down a few slots in his personal suspect list but the new information made things complicated. With little concrete evidence and suspects coming out of his ass, he had to narrow the field before the maniac struck again.
Although the cowboys appeared to stand out like sore thumbs, he doubted either of them had the brains to hack a computer, but both men moved around a lot and attracted young women. He could not discount that their meetings with both victims could have been verbal. After discovering Felicity and Kate loved the rodeo cowboys, it would not have taken too much persuasion to convince the girls to meet them at a secluded spot, but he doubted the men would be stupid enough to murder Joanne and leave her in a place they admitted to frequenting.
It would be conceivable to believe Kate had changed the time to meet Chad because she had made a date with Lucky Briggs. Jenna had mentioned Kate and Aimee had been star-struck by the two cowboys. If Wolfe had discovered one tiny shred of DNA, he would not be chasing his tail in endless circles.
At the fairgrounds, Kane maneuvered through the masses of people and checked the running sheet for the day’s events. His suspects had events for most of the day, and from the announcement, Lucky Briggs had won the bull riding. He ambled toward the group of cowboys leaning on the fence waiting for the next event, and Lucky Briggs climbed over the railing and landed two feet in front of him. Covered in sweat and dust and with a smile as big as Texas, he swaggered through the group of men. Kane moved to block his path. “Congratulations! May I have a word?”
“Most people want an autograph.” Lucky pushed a hand through his sweat-soaked hair then replaced his black Stetson. “Mind if I get a drink? It’s mighty dry work.” He strolled inside a shed milling with men wearing numbers pinned to their shirts and took a bottle of water out of a cooler, popped the cap, and drank the contents. “What can I do for you?” He dropped the bottle into a trashcan, reached for another, and wiped a filthy, gloved hand over his mouth.
Kane pushed his hat up and leaned casually against the doorframe. “The last time we spoke to you, did you go back to the rock pool that afternoon?”
“Nope.” Lucky wiped a rag over his sweaty face. “The local media was holding interviews all afternoon.”
“I hear you went to the Triple Z Bar last night with Storm.”
“So?” Lucky raised both black eyebrows. “No law in drinkin’. I’m over twenty-one.”
“Did you come back to town via Stanton Road?”
“Ain’t no other road back to town from the Triple Z, so I’d be lyin’ if I denied it, wouldn’t I?” Lucky’s brow crinkled into a frown. “Now I have a question for you. Why?”
“There was an incident at the campus, and as you and Crawley were in the area, we are speaking to everyone.” Kane straightened and took out his notebook and pen. “What time did you leave to go to the bar?”
“We left the motel just after six, I guess.” Lucky scratched at a drip of sweat, leaving a wet line on his dusty cheek. “We got back to town around nine and had dinner at Aunt Betty’s Café. I saw you come in and buy some takeout, it must have been closer to ten.”
“Did you see anyone walking along Stanton Road or cars parked in the area on the way to the bar or on the way back?”
“Hell, man, do you notice cars or people when you’re driving? Sexy chicks maybe but that’s about all I see.” Lucky snorted with mirth then held up one hand. “Hang on a minute. Yeah, I do remember seeing a chick, long legs, wearing tight jeans, cowboy boots, and a hoodie heading toward the college.” He stared into the distance for some moments. “That’s all I remember.”
He saw Kate. “What time did you see the woman?”
“It was on the way to the Triple Z, close to six thirty, I guess.”
Kane opened a clean page on his notebook and handed it to Lucky. “Write what you saw, the girl’s description, and time, then sign it. If you do this for me now, I won’t have to haul you into the office for a statement.”
“Sure.” Lucky took the pen, rested the book against the shed wall, and wrote the statement, signing it with a flourish. “Here you go. Anything else?”
Kane read the statement, signed as a witness, and pushed the notebook back inside his pocket. “Yeah, thanks, where can I find Crawley?”
“In the tack room, where you spoke to us before.”
Kane nodded and headed across the crowded venue, weaving around people and avoiding the piles of horse and cattle dung. Fairgrounds had the same smell no matter what state or country: fried onions, horses, sweat, and cow shit. He wiped the sweat from his brow and strolled into the stables. As Lucky had predicted, Storm Crawley was in the tack room cleaning his saddle for the following day’s events. He took the same line of questioning and he remembered seeing Kate as well.
“Do you remember the time?”
“Must have been around six thirty.” Storm’s lips thinned into a line. “She was on Lucky’s side of the car. I didn’t get a good look at her but I remember long legs and a hoodie. I didn’t see her face at all.” He rubbed his chin. “I did see a dark sedan heading off the road into the forest, some ways along Stanton Road. I thought it might be a couple looking for some privacy, if you know what I mean.” He smirked.
Holy shit! “What time would this have been?”
“I’m not sure, but it was still there when we went by later. We only stayed at the Triple Z for a couple of hours. Lucky was hungry and we got to Aunt Betty’s Café around nine.” His mouth slashed into a white smile. “Saw you there too picking up some takeout for the sheriff.”
“We all have to eat.” Kane smiled and pulled out his notebook.
He asked Crawley to write a statement and then thanked him. Dodging kids with balloons on sticks or eating huge hotdogs dripping with ketchup, he headed for the car then reached for his cellphone and c
alled Jenna. “I have a witness that puts Steve Rogers within walking distance of the college around six thirty and two eye-witnesses who saw Kate walking on Stanton Road at the same time.”
“With what we have, that’s enough to arrest him on suspicion. I’ll start the paperwork.”
Thirty-Six
The man’s mind was on the task of choosing his next girl. The thrill of killing Kate thrummed through him and the smell of her still lingered in his nose. He moved into the entrance to an alley and slid into the shadow of the bank then took out his cellphone. The images of his girls, all his girls, were a touch away, hidden in a special folder. He had to take a quick look and enjoy the surge of pleasure, seeing his work at its best.
The images of Kate lit up the screen and his heart pounded at the memory of a knife pressed in his palm. The fear in her eyes and the taste of her. He flicked through the images, and sweat trickled down his spine. Each time he looked at them, he wanted to add another to his collection. Breathing heavily, he relived every tiny detail.
So many girls, so much exquisite fun.
He lifted his head to gaze at a group of girls chatting close by and smiled. After the thrill of finding a girl in the forest and taking her, his skill had proven invincible. He would snatch a girl off the street soon and display her for all to see, then the media would not ignore his art. He bit back a groan, remembering the intense satisfaction of killing his forest gift. Oh, she had fought well but none had ever escaped his knife.
No one ever would.
His mind shifted to the sheriff. A pretty woman and worthy of his art but she would take the brunt of his anger. He would have her soon and enjoy every second. The way she strutted around as if she owned the town made him more determined to tame her. They all beg in the end. Her deputies were no match for his skill, and he would be able to deal with them one at a time in his own special way.
Reluctantly, he closed the file on his cellphone. He had plans to make. He ran the faces of his chosen girls through his mind and trembled with anticipation. Who will be next?
Thirty-Seven
With the statements from Aimee Fox and Kate Bright plus Steve Rogers’ account placing him in Stanton Forest around the time of Felicity Parker’s murder added to the signed accounts from Lucky Briggs and Storm Crawley, Jenna’s application for an arrest warrant went through in minutes. She arrived back at the sheriff’s department to find Kane waiting in anticipation. Waving the document, she smiled at him. “Good work. I think we have our killer.”
“Just in time too, he was in town chatting to Aimee Fox and one of her friends, Julia Smith, earlier. I wouldn’t mind betting he is still in town. Wolfe is going through the surveillance footage for the last hour or so. I know he parked his car in the library parking lot, so he would have to return there eventually.” Kane’s mouth turned down and he cracked his knuckles. “I can’t wait to arrest him.”
“I know where he was about five minutes ago.” Wolfe strolled out of the back room. “He was buying a newspaper from the stand near the church.”
“It sounds like he is searching for information.” Kane’s blue gaze rested on her face. “That’s typical behavior for an exhibitionist psychopathic killer, he wants to read about the murder in the newspapers so he can relive the thrill. Not seeing his kills on the news must be driving him crazy.”
“Okay, I’ll handle the arrest with Kane.” Jenna checked her weapon and tucked a couple more zip cuffs into her pocket. “Let’s go.” She headed out the door and made for her SUV with the department’s insignia on the doors.
She drove the vehicle down the main street, noting the way Kane drummed his long fingers on the dashboard in an agitated fashion. She flicked him a glance. “We’ll find him, he has no idea we’re coming for him.”
She headed straight for the church, and seeing Steve Rogers strolling toward the computer store, she pulled the vehicle into a bus stop and leaped from the car. Before she had taken two steps, Kane had reached Rogers, spun him around, shoved him face first into the brick wall, and cuffed him. She gaped in surprise, then seeing the crowd gathering, she stepped forward. “Steve Rogers, I am arresting you on suspicion of murder.” She read him his Miranda rights then nodded at Kane. “Put him in the car.”
“Clear the way. There is nothing to see here.” Kane’s large frame cut a gap through the spectators on the way to her vehicle.
Jenna followed close behind and waited for Kane to secure their prisoner in her SUV. To her surprise, Rogers had not resisted arrest or uttered a word apart from agreeing; he understood his rights. She slid behind the wheel and headed back to the office. The moment she stepped inside, Rogers gave her a cold look.
“I want you to contact my lawyer. His number is in my wallet.”
She nodded. “Very well, and what about your wife?”
“She left me, and don’t go looking for her, I have no inclination to speak to her.” Rogers gave her a belligerent glare. “I know you have been talking to her behind my back, I heard the messages you left.”
That’s why she didn’t return my call. “As you wish.” She glanced at Kane, who had a firm grip on Rogers’ arm as he handed him over to Deputy Walters at the counter. When he returned, she straightened. “Take Wolfe with you, book him, and lock him up.” She gave Kane a long stare. “Don’t give him any reason to make a complaint—understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She had not missed Kane’s grim expression and the flash of anger in his eyes or the way his knuckles had whitened around Rogers’ arm. When Wolfe strolled out the back room, she touched his arm. “I know you both want to pulverize him but he is innocent until proven guilty and right now all we have is circumstantial evidence. I have a warrant to seize his car and I’ll arrange a tow truck to collect it now. Where is the best place for you to do a search?”
“We need a clean room but I guess the garage at the funeral home will have to do. I can set it up with plastic sheets. We don’t want to give the defense any reason to suspect we tampered with evidence.” Wolfe’s blond brows narrowed. “Make sure no one opens the car or touches anything without suiting up first. Maybe I should go and supervise?”
“Sure, but get Rogers processed first. The car can wait for an hour or so; it’s not going anywhere and I have to call his lawyer.”
Anxiously, she stared after Kane, hoping he would keep his cool. The number for Steve Rogers’ lawyer was in her daybook from the last time Kane had questioned him. She went into her office and made the call. After disconnecting, she contacted the tow truck company and asked them to wait for Wolfe in the library parking lot. She heard a tap on the door and Rowley strolled into the room.
“I guess you won’t need me to watch Mr. Rogers’ house tonight?”
“Ah, but I will need you to do a midnight until seven shift overnight. I’ll ask Walters to cover the early shift. I’ll need someone here to keep an eye on our prisoner.” She smiled at him. “You and Walters won’t have to pull a shift over the weekend; the Blackwater deputies will be on duty until Sunday. We can all go to the dance.” She smiled at him. “You and Walters can take the afternoon. I’m guessing Mr. Rogers’ lawyer will try to get bail, which will be denied and he’ll be taken to the jail and held until the hearing.”
She heard Kane’s voice in the hallway and glanced at the door. He strolled in and his dark eyebrows met in a frown.
“Rogers’ lawyer will be out for blood. We’ll need to have every shred of evidence with the prosecutor or he’ll walk out on bail. Wolfe has left to supervise the pickup and search of his vehicle. We have probable cause to search his house as well and need to ASAP. I have his house key.”
Jenna took a sheet of paper from a folder on her desk. “I have everything ready but I’ll need to be here when Rogers’ lawyer arrives.” She handed him the search warrants. “Take Rowley and head over to the funeral home to search the car with Wolfe, then go to Rogers’ house. It will be quicker with three of you working the scenes.”
> “Yes, ma’am.” He raised both eyebrows. “Are you sure you won’t need me here?”
She waved him away. “Yes, now go, then once you have written your report, send Rowley home, he is covering the graveyard shift.”
“I would advise you to ask the lawyer to interview Rogers in the cell.” Kane flicked his blue gaze over her. “Don’t give him an inch. He may be acting passive now, but don’t trust him.”
“I’m sure I know how to handle a dangerous prisoner. Get out of here, Kane.” She followed the deputies out of the room and headed for the coffee machine. There’s that overprotective streak again.
After collecting her coffee and a muffin then informing Walters of the change of shift, she had made it back to her office when Samuel Jenkins, Rogers’ lawyer, stormed into the department and appeared at her door doing a great impression of a raging bull. She gave him her sweetest smile. “Good morning.” She glanced at her watch. “You made it here in record time. Not speeding, were you?”
“Exactly what evidence do you have against my client to arrest him on suspicion of murder? Who is he supposed to have murdered?”
Jenna inhaled her coffee then took a sip. She needed to stall for time. What she had was circumstantial, but with luck, her deputies would find something else to use against Steve Rogers. “Close the door and take a seat.” She placed her mug on the table and leaned back in her chair. “I have copies of the witnesses’ statements but you’ll need the background information.”
“Witnesses to what?” Jenkins gave her a look to freeze hell, and placing his briefcase on the floor, he sat in the chair before her desk. “I am very close to making a complaint about harassment, but I doubt you would take much notice so I intend to take my complaint straight to the mayor.”
“I see.” Jenna met his gaze and collected the copies of the statements from the folder on her desk. “Three girls have been brutally murdered: Felicity Parker, Joanne Blunt, and Kate Smith. These witnesses—and I might add here that Kate Smith was a witness and I have her signed statement, which as she is also a victim is suspicious in itself.” She took a breath. “These witnesses can place Mr. Rogers at or close to the scene at the time of death. He knows two of the murdered girls and, as we believe the killer hacked their computers to discover their whereabouts, is an expert in the field.”
