“Sheriff. Pat Lawrence with the San Antonio Telegram. Do you have a comment about Sylvia Horning’s claim you’re deliberately keeping information from the public?”
He laughed at the ridiculousness of the statement. “I’m sorry. Deliberately? I don’t know what you’re talking about. Neither my office nor I keep secrets. I do refuse to share clues or information that might compromise a case with the media.”
“Then you’re not concerned about the investigation she’s launched into your past and your department.”
“That’s news to me. I’m sure there’s been a misunderstanding.” Matt shared what he could without divulging too much. The fact that the larger market news agencies had picked up the story of the murders disturbed him. Will Brooking and his crew would stir things up enough without the press making it worse. Matt used all his charm to debunk whatever rumors Sylvia Horning had started.
Matt chuckled when he checked his messages. He’d been inundated with people trying to forewarn him. The TV reporter was the least of his worries. He needed to get back to the office and enter his notes. As with investigations of this type, one central file became the Bible, holding all the information in one place. Hopefully, at some point everything would come together and the answer would be revealed.
On the trip home, Matt organized his thoughts. Pictures of Julia and Annie were as vivid as though they stood in front of him. White faces, hair slicked back, painted lips, and that hideous red ribbon. Being their bodies were too clean, and the bow had been tied over the bruised neck, indications were this was all done post-mortem. His stomach cramped when he thought about their eyes. They’d haunt him for the rest of his life.
Matt waited to radio the dispatcher until he was closer. He was shocked when Sue answered. She seldom worked this late unless asked. Right away, she ragged on him for not returning her calls, warning him the media had been calling all day. Then she reminded him he hadn’t touched base with his deputies since morning.
Irritation simmered right under the surface, but Matt pushed it down deep. Sue’s extra gruff mannerism merely indicated fear, the same fear spreading like wildfire across the county. The pounding in his temples set him on the edge. He’d left Houston to get away from death and pain. And failure. The old adage held true, your problems travelled with you. Bow up and handle the situation, his daddy told him one time when a bully had tried to push him around at school. Good advice then and now.
“After quitting time, isn’t it?”
“Did I ask for overtime pay?” she fired back.
He smiled to himself, another woman in his life who made him laugh. “You brought me a pie today. Didn’t you?”
“What makes you think I’d bring you anything?” The warmth in her voice answered his question.
“You did the last time I went to San Antonio.” His stomach rumbled. “You didn’t give any to Ash, did you?”
“Course I did, but I saved you some. What kind of name is Ash anyway? Was his mother on fire when he was born?”
“I’d tell you his full name is Ashton Hilton Hunter, but I value my life too much.” Sue laughed and Matt relaxed a little.
“I can understand how he’d be upset. Hilton, huh? Any relation to the hotel?”
“If so, he’s always denied it.”
“How’d the autopsy go?” Her voice softened. “Pretty rough?”
“Worse than rough.”
“How far out are you?”
“Pulling in the parking lot.”
“Want me to make fresh coffee? Jake and Ash are waiting for you.”
“Good idea. We’ll be working late. Ask them to meet me in the conference room.”
“You got it.”
Chapter Eighteen
Tuesday, August 29th, 11:30 a.m.
Matt ended the call with Special Agent Noble and turned to Ash. He’d sat stone-faced, arms folded across his chest, lips clamped together in a rigid line through the entire conference conversation. The FBI had agreed to have the BAU review the documents and film. Sue would overnight the package to their office in Quantico. “Maybe we’ll gain some insight from the profile they’ll develop.” Matt received an eye roll and a look of total disgust from Ash. “What?”
“I had my say before you called the Feds.” Ash’s gaze went back to the pictures taken by the photographer at the morgue and by Jake at the park.
“Like you’re not getting ready to tell me again.”
Ash was miffed because his profiling abilities were as good as anything the FBI could provide. The BAU might notice something, hell anything that would help. Matt wasn’t too proud to ask for help.
“The sucker is easy to profile,” Ash continued his protest. “We need to figure out what set him off. A traumatic experience, a trigger, something sent him off the deep end. He’s somebody these women recognized. Hell, man, Annie Travers looked nervous, but not afraid for her life. She got out of her car and went to him. Those two things, the trust and the tragedy, will lead us to him.”
Matt agreed. “The tragedy is the stressor and will tell us why he decorated both women to look like porcelain dolls.” The clock was ticking. How long did they have before another woman disappeared?
Ash unfolded his arms. He stared in silence, his eyebrows pulled close together. His focus seemed to zone in on Matt’s chest. That suited Matt. He had notes to finish. And he wanted to go over what Jake and Rey had added. The longer Ash studied and immersed himself in the case the quicker he’d pick up on something.
Ash reached over and tapped Matt’s badge. “You need to look internally.”
Matt stopped reading his notes. “For what?” His first chuckle of the day and he needed a good laugh. “You think I killed them.”
“Get real. Catherine’s got you goofy-eyed. And that’s a different conversation we need to have. I’m talking inside your department. Annie fucking trusted the bastard. She’d do that with one of your deputies.”
“Your turn to get real.” Matt dropped to his lower-octave voice.
Ash did another eye roll. “Don’t try your Billy-Bad-Ass tone with me. I’ve seen your ass. Talk about a traumatic break.”
“And exactly how did you pull that off? You have Superman’s x-ray vision?”
“After you came out of recovery. How’d you think you got those pink bunny pajama bottoms on?”
“You put those on me?” Matt swallowed a couple of times. Everybody had enjoyed the joke but him. Of course, back then nothing was funny.
“Me and the pretty blonde nurse. I’ll admit she did most of the work.”
Sue tapped on the door and entered without waiting. Something was up. She turned on the small TV and sat beside him at the conference table.
“I told you she was a bitch.” She lay her hand on Matt’s arm.
Sylvia Horning’s face filled the screen. “My continuing investigation into Sheriff Ballard and his policies continue on today’s show as promised. Through personal resources, I have confirmed the two dead women were killed in the same manner. Both Julia Drummond and Annie Travers were raped and strangled. Their eyes glued open and makeup had been applied to give them a doll-like appearance. Two tragic deaths and yet our sheriff refuses to talk to me. Refuses to inform the public. My question to Sheriff Ballard is this...what is your definition of a serial killer? And how many women must die before you admit you have no clues and no suspects? Here’s another question for our not-so-talkative sheriff. Why haven’t you asked the Texas Rangers for assistance? This reporter verified Sheriff Ballard has not been in touch with their office.” She leaned forward toward the camera. “Anytime the sheriff would like to drop by the station and answer these questions, I’m happy to make myself available. You, my viewers, can rest assured, my investigation into the sheriff and The Green-Eyed Doll killer will be in depth. For now, this is Sylvia Horning, RBS noon news.”
Matt turned the TV off and tossed the remote to the side. “So much for Reinhardt and his team keeping their mouths shut.”
“It sure didn’t come from here. My men are under strict orders to keep their comments to themselves.” He trusted his deputies. Jake and Rey were loyal and dedicated. “Hell, you’d be wasting time trying to get information out of them.
“I’m not worried about her broadcasts. She can dig all she wants.” Matt turned to Sue. “Call the County Record and the Curry Weekly, and ask them to send Steve Evers and Andrea Simpson over for an interview with me. At two today.”
“You got it.” Sue’s eyes flashed her approval, an indication she was as mad as he was.
“You’ll piss her off worse than she is now,” Ash commented.
Ash stared as if Matt had dropped in from Mars and antennae had sprouted from his head. No way was he running scared from Sylvia Horning. “And my belly will be full when I do. You buy lunch and explain how Catherine has made me—goofy?”
“You’re joking, right? I sat across the booth from you two last night. Remember?”
****
Tuesday, August 29th, midnight
He shoved the trailer door open and stormed out into the darkness. Outside, away from Jessie. Bent over, hands on knees, he filled his lungs with warm night air. He had to stay away from her until he calmed down, else he’d beat the bitch to death. Goddamn her. The hornets stung his brain, setting him on fire from the inside. His hands shook like some fuckin’ old woman. He was sick to his stomach with lying women. He’d have been better off going with Will Brooking and his patrol tonight, but Vince being out of pocket made tonight the perfect time to pick up Jessie.
Surrounded by nothing but woods, he let the sound of crickets calm him. This far out you couldn’t hear the whine from the big rigs on the highway. This peaceful minute or two would be good for Jessie. She’d be wise to spend time considering her options. She’d be his doll or suffer more punishment.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this pissed. A dark laughter bubbled up from deep in his chest. Sure he could. One of Mama’s “guests” had tried to play his dirty little game with him. If it had happened years later, it might not have been such a big deal. ‘Cause you stay in lockup long enough...you’ll stick your dick in a knothole for relief. Back when he was a kid, the idea had made him furious. The feel of his twelve-year-old foot when it connected with the bastard’s crotch was still a favorite memory. The sonofabitch was probably still looking for his nuts.
He swiped his hand at the sweat on his neck. It stung. Why were his fingers sticky? He sniffed. Blood? The bitch had scratched him. His ears buzzed. The hornet’s rampage worsened. Shit, his mind raced while he paced back and forth down the long driveway.
Maybe he would kill her. He jerked the door open and stormed inside.
He straddled her, leaned down in front of her swollen face, and pulled his shirt away from his neck. “You bitch!” She cried out when his fist crashed into her swollen jaw. “You fuckin’ scratched me.”
He stood and went to the kitchen, rummaging through the drawers. Finally, he found what he was looking for. When he returned to the bedroom, Jessie was jerking at the cuff around her ankle. A futile exercise that brought a chuckle to the surface. No way could she get loose. Her eyes widened and a scream ripped from her throat when the tip of his boot sent her sprawling across the bed.
He sat on her. Pinned her with his knees while she tried in vain to buck him off. She froze stiff when he waved the pliers in front of her. “You won’t need those fingernails anymore.”
“Please, no.” She begged. A river of tears shot from her eyes. “I won’t fight anymore. Look, I’m sorry. Fuck me. I want you to. Really.”
“You’re babbling.” His nose flared at the odor coming from her. She stunk with fear, sweat, and piss. Why would he want to fuck somebody who smelled like a pig farm? “Why should I believe you? You haven’t done anything but fight me since I picked you up.” He wanted to believe because he was horny as hell. His cock ached and balls were ready to explode. After all the trouble she’d caused, she owed him something.
“I’ll prove it. Let me show you. You don’t have to hurt me again.”
He studied her face. Maybe he’d cut her fingernails off with some scissors to prove a point. The fear and submission behind her eyes said he’d won. A light opened in his mind, washed over him, filled him with knowledge. The hornets calmed. He’d found the answer. From now on, he’d establish the doll’s role and who was boss right up front. Besides, he wanted her alive long enough to watch Vince suffer knowing somebody was slipping it to his wife.
“First you shower.” In the back of his mind, he’d resigned himself; one false move from her, one hint she was lying about cooperating, and he’d kill her.
****
Tuesday, August 29th, 1:00 a.m.
Matt slapped for his cell when it did the vibration dance across his nightstand. The damn thing shot from under his fingers and slid across the floor. Could another woman already be missing?
The warm hand on his back offered no consolation. He’d have to go, but he’d worry about her less when he drove away. She was safely tucked in his bed.
He found the phone and quickly left the room, hoping Catherine could get some sleep. “Who?” he growled.
“This is Valerie Knox, sorry to bother you—”
“Val. Who’s missing?” Matt shrugged himself awake, sending the cobwebs to the outer edges of his mind.
“It’s not a missing person. There’s trouble at the Saddleback. The owner called it in and insisted you be contacted.”
“Who’d you send?” His sigh of relief was audible.
“Charles Ray and Ernie.”
“Thanks. Let them know I’m coming.” His racing heart slowed. What the hell happened? He stepped back into his bedroom to grab his clothes.
“Matt?” Catherine turned on the bedside lamp.
“A fight out at the bar. Marty asked for me specifically.” He slid into his jeans, grabbed his socks and boots, and then sat on the side of the bed.
“That’s ridiculous,” she snapped. “You’ve been working night and day. When do you get to rest?”
Her protective outburst came at the perfect time. His ego got one hell of a boost from her tirade. A warm hand wrapped around his heart and squeezed. Matt looked over his shoulder at her. Sitting straight up in bed, her wildfire red hair tumbled over shoulders and covered the top her breasts. A dark scowl cast a shadow over her beautiful face, and those fiery green eyes blazed. He couldn’t hold back a smile.
“I didn’t say anything funny. Did I?” She clamped her teeth together and crossed her arms across her chest.
He leaned over and kissed her downturned lips. “You growl like a mama bear, but look like a Playboy model. Quite a contrast...threw me for a second.” He slid his feet into his boots and walked around to her, stepping over his traitorous dog. Whenever Catherine spent the night, that hound slept on the throw rug next to her side of the bed. “I wish I could stay here with you.”
He gently lay her down and covered her. Damn, it was hard to leave her warming his sheets. He brushed her tangled hair across the white pillow and captured her lips for a kiss.
“I already miss you.” She rolled to her side and dangled her arm over the edge.
Benedict Arnold crawled over and nuzzled her hand. Matt pulled his jaw off his chest, turned out the light, and left with a smile. The dim-witted mutt wasn’t too stupid.
The drive from his house to the Saddleback was a short one. For the first time, he missed the all-night fast-food joints where he could’ve grabbed a coffee to go. Not only was the gas tank on his pickup low, his personal reservoir was running on empty. When the lights of the bar came into view, he packed away his lack of sleep.
He’d gone without rest a hell of a lot longer than this. When Elena’s cover had been blown, and they’d been captured, the bastards kept them both awake for days. After all, what was the fun of torture if she wasn’t awake a
nd her partner wasn’t watching the horrid scene unfold?
Matt’s health improved a lot when Ash told him Elena’s killers had fought back when the DEA raided the drug dealer’s hideout. The SWAT guys wiped them off the face of the planet. Must’ve been an awesome sight
Charles Ray Perkins and Ernest Mall probably had things under control. They were two of the most experienced deputies on the force. Matt thought it odd both preferred the late shift. Charles Ray had said most nights were peaceful. Hell, until five weeks ago peace was easy to find in Crest County.
Matt parked and joined Charles Ray, who was shaking his head from side to side like a pendulum. Marty and JC were on the front porch of the Saddleback bending over a prone figure. A quick count told Matt two men sat in the back seats of both cruisers.
“Sorry you had to come out. Marty insisted. She’s as big a pain in the ass as the men in the fight.”
“Who’s lying down?” Matt asked.
“Stevie Covington. They beat him up pretty bad, but he won’t allow anyone to call an ambulance.” Charles Ray’s breath reeked of chewing tobacco. At some point Matt might address his nasty habit, but now wasn’t the time. He could and did take a step back to avoid a direct hit when his deputy spoke.
“What the hell happened?” Matt stifled a yawn before he glanced in Marty’s direction. He hoped his relationship with Catherine didn’t make Marty feel entitled to call him every time something went wrong.
“Stevie’s been leaning on Harvey Coleman’s daughter pretty hard. Trying to pick her up, take her out on a date, but she don’t want anything to do with him. I guess they exchanged words tonight after the pool tournament. She called her daddy, who happens to be on Will Brookings new County Patrol Group.”
“What? Jesus, they’ve named themselves?” That got Matt’s eyes open and mind working full speed. “Shit.”
“Looks like. You want to talk to them?”
“Not yet. Let them stew. I’ll talk to Stevie and Marty first.” Which was a good decision, because Marty was headed his direction. The way her ponytail swung from side to side, it was a wonder she didn’t put somebody’s eye out. Matt met her halfway. “Evening, Marty.”
The Green-Eyed Doll Page 19
