by Jenn Vakey
Chapter Thirteen
The station was quiet when she walked in the next morning. The majority of the officers were still out chasing down the reports that were coming in.
“Is there any news?” she asked Wilcome who was sitting at his desk in the back corner.
“The blood type on the bedpan does not match Derek Hartley. It’s possible that it could have belonged to one of the other victims, but we are going to start running it against the national database. If we are lucky, it will match someone already in the system,” he said. “Until then, we are just waiting to hear back from the owners of the cabin with the rental history.”
Detective Matthews had stated the night before that if he did not hear back from them today, that he would fly to California himself to track them down. Despite the joking tone in his voice, Rilynne actually thought he would.
“So,” Wilcome grinned up at her. “I heard there was a bit of a bar fight last night.”
“I wouldn’t really call it a bar fight,” Rilynne replied as she walked back to her desk. “Some men just got a little out of hand after hearing the news report about Hartley. They were drunk.”
“Well, I heard that our Ben Davis stepped in and dropped both men when they started to advance on you before anyone else could even react. It was a good show from what I’m told.”
Rilynne smiled at him, trying to figure out the tone behind his comments. “It was impressive, that’s for sure.”
“Excuse me,” she heard coming from the doorway behind her. Relieved to have a distraction, she turned around to see an older man with a newsboy cap in hand. “I had a message to come down and speak with a Detective Matthews. My name is Russell Turley.”
“Please come in Mr. Turley,” Rilynne said motioning him to a chair in the conference room. “Detective Matthews should be right in. Can I get you something to drink while you wait?”
He lowered himself slowly into the chair. “No thank you dearie,” he said sweetly.
Rilynne walked back to Wilcome’s desk. “I’m going to take a leap and say Mr. Turley did not have anything to do with the murders,” she said softly.
Wilcome chuckled. “I would have to say I agree. Call Matthews and let him know he’s here. I don’t want to make him wait too long.”
Mr. Turley was humming a little tune when Rilynne walked back in to tell him Detective Matthews would be just a few minutes away. “Oh, no worry doll. This is the most excitement I have had in years!” Rilynne had never seen someone so happy to be sitting in a police station.
“I really like him,” she whispered to Matthews when he walked in five minutes later. He gave her a curious smile and followed her to the conference room.
“Mr. Turley, I’m Detective Matthews,” he said, sitting down across the table. “And I believe that you have already met Detective Evans. We were hoping you would be able to help us out with the case we are working.”
Mr. Turley’s eyes widened as he sat up as straight as he could. “Of course, anything I can do. Oh the boys at bingo are never going to believe this!”
“Great,” Matthews said, looking over at Rilynne with a grin that said he now understood her earlier comment. “We were told you were in charge of maintaining this cabin.” He sat a photograph of the cabin down on the table. “Is there anything that you can tell us about the property? Did you ever find anyone who shouldn’t have been there?”
“Well, lets see. I maintained that property for close to fifteen years until the last owners hit a bit of a financial rough patch. Over the years I did find a few kids sneaking around, but they never went into to house. They liked to play around in the caves,” he said.
“Other than the caves and the cabin itself, are there any other buildings on the property? Any storage sheds or bunkers of any kind?” Rilynne asked.
“There are eight caves on the property. One of them had a cave in seven years back, though. There was a storage shed, but some kids were playing with fireworks when their family rented the cabin, and burned it down,” he replied. “There was always talk about a hidden bunker full of buried treasure, but I have never come across it. It would actually surprise me if it was real, and not just a campfire story.”
“Did anyone ever say where they thought it would be?” Matthews asked.
“Well,” he said excitedly. “I have heard that property was originally owned by a notorious bank robber, and he build the bunker in the woods to hide the loot from the coppers on his trail. It is said that he hid it under a twenty foot X. Now, personally I think it was a story told to try to boost up the rentals. But just between us,” he whispered leaning forward. “I may have spent a few summers out there with a metal detector. You know, just to make sure.” He winked at Rilynne and sat back up in his chair.
“Is there anything that you can remember about the people who rented the cabin over the last few years?” Matthews asked. “Did you ever see anyone with a leg amputation?”
Mr. Turley’s eyes lit up and he bounced in his chair. “Oh, is this because of the Pirate Killer case? Am I going to be part of the investigation for the biggest serial killer we have ever seen in this area? Oh, this is so exciting! Leg amputations? No, I have never seen any of them. Now, I didn’t see all of the renters. I was only called if something needed to be fixed while they were there.”
“Well Mr. Turley, you have been a big help,” Matthews said standing up. “If we need anything else, would it be alright if we contacted you?”
Rilynne helped Mr. Turley to his feet, and led him to the door. “Oh absolutely! If you need anything at all, please let me know.”
After seeing him to the elevator, Rilynne walked back to join Matthews. “You are right,” he said. “I want to be just like him when I’m older.”
“I told you,” Rilynne chortled. “So, do you think there is really a bunker full of treasure hidden on the property? That would be pretty awesome, even if it wasn’t related to the case.”
He leaned back with his hands behind his head. “I have to admit, I’m too curious not to look into it. At least from the records end of it. When I have a little time I will look into the owner history and see if anyone could have been involved in any bank robberies. In the meantime, let’s get a helicopter over the property with thermal imagining just in case there is one and our guy is hiding out in it.”
“You would think that if he found a hidden room full of cash he would have better things to do than butcher people,” she said. “Unless he lost it all in Vegas or something. That would leave me pretty steamed.”
He just chuckled and picked up the phone.
Rilynne had just sat back down at her desk when her own phone started to ring. She was only on the phone for a matter of moments before Rilynne slammed it down angrily and reached for her bag.
“What is it Evans?” Matthews asked.
“That was my landlord,” she explained. “Someone has broken into my apartment.”
Matthews grabbed his stuff and headed for the door with her. “I’ll have crime scene meet us there,” he said. “Wilcome will want to know, also.” Rilynne already had her phone in her hand. She knew the chances of this not being related to the case were slim, especially with the timing. “I’m calling him now,” she said as they stepped into the elevator.
Rilynne did not know what to expect when she stepped towards her apartment door. Her landlord had insisted on waiting outside of the door to make sure no one else entered it after Rilynne informed him not to close the door back up like he had wanted. Poor man, Rilynne thought to herself as she walked past him. This was the third time the police had been called to his building in just under a week. He seemed to be taking it personally.
Every inch of Rilynne’s apartment appeared to have been gone through. Even the kitchen drawers had all been emptied out into a pile on the floor.
When Ben walked in just behind her, he had a look about him that seemed to be almost an I told you so. “There is not sign of breaking and entering,” he said. “Was your door locked?�
�� he asked.
“Of course it was,” she replied. “I may leave it unlocked when I’m here, but I always lock it when I go out.”
“Who has a copy of your key?” Matthews asked.
“Just my mom, and the landlord of course. I checked and my copy is still on my key ring in my purse,” she said.
“Look into the landlord,” Matthews said to Detective Davidson quietly. “And anyone else who could have had access to his copy of the keys.”
After making a quick run around the apartment, Rilynne leaned against the kitchen counter, rubbing her hands on her face. She felt almost dirty inside. Then suddenly she saw it. Books were flying onto the floor, drawers were being pulled out and flipped over, and clothes were flying out of the closet by the handful. She shook her head as she stood back up. “It seems like they were more interested in messing everything up than anything else,” she said. “Maybe they didn’t like the way I decorated.” She tried to make light of the situation, but it didn’t make her feel any better.
“We are going to take anything that has a good surface for prints,” Ben said gently. “Because there is a possibility this is tied to the case, we are going to process everything in the lab instead of just doing it here.”
“I don’t even know where to start,” Rilynne said. “Look at this place. If they didn’t want to take anything, why would they tear it up like this?”
“Maybe they were looking for something specific and couldn’t find it,” he offered.
“I don’t know what they would be looking for,” she said. “It’s not like I would keep any important case information laying around. And the entrance to my secret room is hidden behind my other bookcase,” she added pointing towards the emptied bookcase in front of them. “Really?” Ben asked. “I keep mine under a hidden panel on the floor.”
Rilynne was still chuckling when Matthews walked back up. “We need a list of everyone who has been in your apartment since you moved it,” he said pulling a pen out of his pocket.
“Let’s see,” she started to think. “I hired movers to get everything in. I will have to look up their information. Then there was my mom, of course. Nicole Benson and Ben,” she said pointing down to Ben who was sorting through the content of the bookcase on the floor. “There was also…” she stopped abruptly when she watched Ben pick up her photo album. As he did, the photograph from the back of the book fell out and drifted to the floor.
Before she could reach out and grab it, Ben picked it up. He stared at the picture for what felt like an hour as if trying to make sense of it. Finally he handed it back to her and went back to sifting through the books.
After a few seconds he seemed to have determined that there was nothing of importance to be found, so he stood up without a word and walked out.
Despite feeling as though a complete stranger had violated her, the thing that was most upsetting to her at the moment was the confusion she had seen in Ben’s eyes. She knew she needed to talk to him about it, but this was just not the right time.
“Anyone else?” Matthews asked.
“Oh, um…” she tried to think. “Mrs. McGee across the hall came over to borrow a cup of sugar a few weeks ago. Other than that there have been a few delivery guys, but no one has come in.”
She had just started listing all of the places she had ordered food from when Detective Wilcome walked in.
“So, what has been taken?” he asked, also pulling out his notebook. “And you know the drill; be specific as possible.”
Rilynne had been walking around the apartment trying to picture everything the way it had been when she left that morning, so she would be able to know everything that was gone. She took one last look around the room before answering, “Honestly, nothing; nothing that really stands out, at least. All of my electronics are still here, and don’t seem to have been touched. My jewelry box has been dumped out, but nothing is missing.”
Wilcome looked as confused as she felt. “Did you have anything here that was related to the case?” he asked. Once she realized that nothing of monetary value had been taken, she had rushed to check on the copies of the case files she had. “I have copies of the files, but they were all in my safe, which hasn’t been touched,” she replied.
As relieved as she was that nothing was missing, it did not put her at ease.
“Everything has been gone through. Even the clothing tags on some of my clothes have been pulled out. My alarm clock has been smashed, and even my toothpaste was emptied out,” she said. “It seems like all they wanted to shake me up actually.”
“It could be that it was just kids trying to wreak a little havoc,” he said. “Although they usually will take money that has been left laying out.” He was right there. Rilynne had received the familiar envelope of cash two days before, but had not had a chance to put it in the bank. She had placed it in the tray by the door, where it still remained. Detective Wilcome was fidgeting with his pen in a preoccupied way as if he were trying to work something out. Rilynne just watched him without speaking. “I want the bomb squad called out,” he finally said. “And clear everyone out of the building. If nothing was taken, something might have been left.”
Rilynne was shocked she hadn’t thought about it herself. She grabbed her photo album off the shelf and followed everyone out to the hall. Detective Matthews pulled the fire alarm that was right outside Rilynne’s door, and stayed on the floor to make sure everyone made it out.
The bomb squad was just pulling up when they got the last person out of the building. The tenants seemed to be caught somewhere between curiosity and concern. With the number of people on their phones, Rilynne was surprised there was not a reporter on the scene.
“This is not how I saw today going,” Rilynne said to Wilcome and Matthews.
It did not take long for the bomb squad to come back out of the building. “We had the dogs go over the entire apartment. It’s all clear, you can start moving people back in,” the captain said as he walked up to the detectives.
Rilynne followed the rest of the tenants back into the building. “Are we about done here?” she asked Detective Wilcome as they stepped back onto her floor.
“The crime scene techs have collected everything they needed to collect. I don’t think there is anything else we can do here. You can take the day to get your things in order,” he offered.
“That will not be necessary,” she stated, locking her front door. “There is nothing I can do in my apartment that will help us get any closer to this guy.”
* * *
Every officer in the station seemed to be talking about the break in. Even people she had never spoken to were coming up and asking if she was all right.
She finally decided to spend the rest of the day hiding out at her desk. She was fighting the urge to call Ben and try to explain things when a voice came from the door behind her, causing her to jump.
“Have either of you seen Skinner?” LaShad asked, rushing in.
“No, but I just got back in,” Rilynne answered. Detective Matthews, who was sitting at his own desk across the room, just shook his head. LaShad looked around quickly and hurried back out of the room.
“He seems all excited about something,” Matthews said. Before they could follow him, Wilcome stood up and called everyone into the conference room.
“Okay, so here is what we have,” he said when everyone sat down. Rilynne looked around the table and saw that just over half of the detectives in the unit were in the office today. She was about to ask where the rest were when Wilcome started talking again.
“The blood type from the bedpan does not match Derek Hartley, or the previous four victims. As Hartley was injured and would not be able to make a speedy escape, it would be a good guess to say that he wounded the perpetrator. With any luck, we will find a match in the national database. If not, we have a good sample for comparison when we catch this guy.
“Based on a tip from the caretaker, we have a helicopter flying over the property now lo
oking for a hidden bunker. LaShad and Skinner are still going through the victims’ pasts looking for a connection.
“Hopefully we will hear back from the cabin owners today with a list of everyone who rented the cabin during the three years prior to foreclosure. When we get that list, I want everyone looked into. See if they are willing to provide a voluntary DNA sample. Anyone who refuses I want put on the top of the list until they can provide an alibi that clears them.”
Wilcome stood up and looked around the table. “We are getting closer to this guy, I can feel it. He is a creature of habit, and now that he has lost one of the pieces of his puzzle, he’s going to start making mistakes. These mistakes are what we will be able to use to put an end to…” Before he could finish his thought, the door burst open.
“We found it!” LaShad came running into the room so fast, he did not have time to stop before hitting the table. “We know how he’s choosing his victims.”
Chapter Fourteen
“There is only one thing they all have in common. They have all crossed paths with this police department in some way or another.” He laid out a stack of police reports for them to see. On top was a report that was filed by Derek Hartley when his apartment was broken into.
He was right. All of the victims had been connected to a case that was investigated in their station, whether they were the victim, perpetrator, or just a witness. And the police officer, who had been the third victim, had worked narcotics in their precinct before retiring. Although this narrowed their suspect pool, it delivered a heart-stopping blow; the perpetrator was more than likely one of their own.
“Who would have access to this information?” Matthews asked as the reports were spread across the table.
“That is what I want to know,” Wilcome announced. “I want a list of everyone who worked on these cases, as well as anyone who would have had had access to the reports once they were made. No one leaves until we are done.”
Everyone seemed to get up at once, other than Detective Wilcome, who did not budge from his seat. This was not going to be an easy task. In addition to the officers who handled the cases, there were also going to be crime scene investigators, reporters, attorneys, courtroom staff, and judges. Not to mention any hospital or medical staff if there were injuries involved.
