Cuts Like a Knife: A Novel (A Kristen Conner Mystery Book 1)
Page 33
Mom had watched the end of the movie with us but kept asking questions about what things meant and what she had missed and kind of ruined the mood. How do you explain that Captain Hook wasn’t really part of the story of the Three Pigs. Mom, you are confused, but I guess I have to keep you. It’s about ten now and she looks up at me as if she just remembered something.
“You had dinner at Klarissa’s house tonight. You must have left awfully quick.”
“Ha ha,” I answer. “Very funny. We were supposed to have dinner last night. She blew me off.”
“She told me that. Not that she blew you off but that she had to cancel. She got assigned to do an interview with someone from the mayor’s office, you know. But she said you two rescheduled for tonight. That’s why she didn’t come over with me when I called.”
Mom has things mixed up in her mind. Again.
“And when did Klarissa tell you this?” I ask sarcastically.
“There’s no need for that tone, Kristen.”
“Sorry, Mom, but for some reason this story feels like Klarissa shifting blame for us not getting together my way. We made no dinner plans tonight.”
“She wasn’t blaming you for anything, Kristen. Are you sure you don’t have things mixed up? Because you do have a lot on your mind these days with that awful Cutter Shark case. And you don’t always listen as well as you should.”
Even my mom is calling him the Cutter Shark?
“I guess it’s possible, Mom, but I still suspect she got a better offer than rescheduling with me and didn’t want to talk about it with you tonight. Her and Warren are talking again, you know.”
Why did I say that? I promised I wouldn’t.
“She told me,” Mom and Kaylen say in unison. So much for having the inside skinny. I was probably the last to know.
Time to change the subject from Klarissa. I’m still a little mad at her. Jimmy wanders off to the bedroom with a book. Mom, Kaylen, and I chitchat another thirty minutes. I’m not really listening and my head is starting to bob as I almost fall asleep. I look at my watch. If I don’t leave now I am going to end up sharing a room with James. I have to get some sleep. I yawn loudly, stand up and stretch—no pain in my lower back from the kidney shot anymore—and tell everyone I’m going to hit it. I go upstairs to say goodnight to James and Kendra. James is fast asleep. Kendra is about in la-la land too. She still has her Kristen doll held close in one arm. Her purple hippo that Dad gave her is in the other. I tell her I love her. I think she tells me she loves me back, but she’s so sleepy, her words aren’t clear.
I go back downstairs and give Mom and Kaylen a hug and kiss and head out the door. I press in the clutch with my left foot and fire up my Miata and shift into reverse. I back out of the driveway and shift into first to head up Oakmont Lane, across Belmont and up Clark toward my apartment.
I look in my rearview mirror and see headlights. I’m comforted and uncomfortable seeing them. My police escort is still on the job. I shake my head. How long will I have a security detail assigned to me? I’ve already told Zaworski he could cancel it, that I’m fine and can take care of myself. He and Willingham said absolutely not. But how long will that resolve last? I, too, have been forced to wonder if Dean has already fled town. If he has, does that mean I’m safe? He’s never returned to any of his crime cities. But who is to say he won’t break pattern? It’s pretty broken already. I wonder again how close I was to being his victim.
Van Guten is convinced I would represent a prize victim for Dean; a dramatic flourish to express his superiority over his pursuers. Might be wishful thinking.
Nope. He’s not gone. He isn’t done. I can feel it. And he did say the next killing will be in summer. Less than two hours.
Dear God, please don’t let him get away to start over somewhere else.
73
June 20, 10:05 p.m.
NOW I KIND of wish I wasn’t leaving tomorrow. It’s not been easy, but I think I’ve set the world to rights in the last few days.
Allen Johnson? No more self-aggrandizing ChiTownVlogger to clutter my story.
Carrie? I may not hold my big brother in high regard, but he is my brother. First Detective Conner dumped him. Then the stupid, giggling blonde cut him off. It was a bad rebound date for you, Dell. You deserve a lot better than her. She wasn’t worthy of your attention or the full extent of my craft. So I just knocked on the door, pushed my way in, and broke her neck. That was quick—and different. Not satisfactory by any means, but interesting. That’ll give the FBI something to chew on for a while.
Detective Conner? Sadly, the girl has too many sets of eyes watching her. Might be pressing my luck at the moment. I like to keep a neat pattern. But Chicago is such a mess I will stop back through sometime in the future to rearrange the pieces. I’ve always left kids out of my work. But maybe that little niece of hers would show the Conner family what happens when you mess with the Woods boys.
Today was pleasant and relaxed. Klarissa drove off in her shiny silver sports car at noon and I spent the rest of the afternoon in her place. I wish she’d been more considerate and stocked the refrigerator better for me. She got home later than I thought she would. But when she opened the door and saw me standing there, the look on her face was priceless. I wish I had had a camera to capture the moment.
She was terrified by the tattoos and stubble. She was petrified when she saw it was me behind the disguise.
I planned to go easy on her. I gave her just enough pentobarbital to keep her docile—but awake. Maybe I should have just done the deed then. But I sent the FBI and CPD a clear message that my next victim would be done the first day of summer. I want to leave town with them knowing who was in charge of this game, the whole time. So I have to wait until the clock strikes midnight to get started.
But now I’m not sure I should stay in her house any longer. Her mom called three times. What a meddler. I finally let Klarissa pick up and tell her mom she already had plans. And she did good. A sharp knife held against her throat made sure of that. I think it’s funny she said she was with her sister. Can’t wait for that to get back to Kristen, once Klarissa’s dead.
But what now? I really think I need to move her. Where should we go? A hotel? I don’t think I’ll be recognized with my new look. But they’ll want a credit card, and the cops will track it after they find her body. I don’t know how long I’ll need to use it once I hit the road.
I can’t believe Dell has cut me off from my accounts. He and I’ll need to chat about that.
No, a hotel room won’t work. Hotels are too impersonal anyway. I want this to be special.
There is Carrie’s apartment. She obviously doesn’t need it anymore. But that might be even more risky than a hotel. Someone is going to start looking for her sometime and it could be tonight. The whole block where her apartment is located is mostly empty with DePaul out for the summer. Most of the primates have gone home. But no, still too many street lights and I might be seen carrying an unconscious news reporter into an apartment complex. And there is the matter that there is already a dead body in her apartment. That’s not a pleasant thought.
There is Dell’s place. I checked again this morning. The easy-to-spot unmarked police car hasn’t been out front—or back—for two days. All the furniture is still there. And Dell is almost as neat, clean, and orderly as I am. Almost.
I think I’ve just come up with the obvious solution. Ah, yes. Perfect. It’s a dark, quiet street. People lock their doors and mind their own business.
I wonder if Dell has ever felt my eyes on him? This isn’t the first city I’ve followed him to. Sometimes he would stay too long in one location and I’d have to pack up and move on without him. But we’ve been together more than he knows.
Someday I’ll thank him for what he did for me in Chicago. First he introduced me to Kristen. He didn’t know he did, of course, but I saw her out with him. And that led me to Klarissa. My soulmate.
Time to get moving.
 
; 74
I PULL INTO the parking lot of my apartment, find a spot close to my place, turn off the engine, and glance at my cell. I missed a couple of calls and have a text from Reynolds.
You ever going to talk to me again? Meet me for dinner. You can’t stay mad forever. Let’s talk.
I look at the time stamp. It came in about the time I was arriving at Jimmy and Kaylen’s. Not tonight, Austin. And who are you to say how long I can stay mad?
Missed a call from Klarissa—so maybe she was going to invite me for dinner. Though I can’t remember the last time I saw her cook. No message. Reynolds called before texting—no message from him either. Another missed call—and message—from a private number. Dell? Must have called while I was watching Shrek. I am tired. I haven’t paid attention to anything tonight. Not good.
I feel guilty as I admit to myself that I am relieved. I don’t want to listen to a message from Dell. I want to sleep. It’s game on, Kristen. Pay attention in case he calls back. Tired is irrelevant.
I latch the top closed on my convertible and get out. I look up at a beautiful full moon. Summer is here but the temperature has dropped into the low seventies or upper sixties. A light breeze blows from Lake Michigan. It feels great.
My bodyguards pull up behind me and the passenger window slides down. It is Carter, the buzzcut, riding shotgun. I don’t recognize the driver. I’ll meet him in the morning.
“I’ll walk you upstairs, Detective,” Carter says gallantly.
“I’ll be fine.”
“I’m sure you will. But I think I’ll walk you up anyway.”
“Captain’s orders?”
“Yes ma’am.”
He has been calling me ma’am all week. I know thirty is upon me, but come on, do I look like his mother?
“Carter?”
“Yes ma’am?”
“I am honored to be protected by a clean-cut, conscientious, and very polite all-American young man.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
I sigh and continue. “But despite my admiration for a man with good manners, if you call me ma’am one more time I am going to—”
“Don’t say it,” he says laughing, his hand held up in the universal stop sign. “I am pretty polite but I didn’t grow up in the South. Your, uh, partner, incentivized me to call you ma’am and let him know how long you would put up with it before saying anything.”
“Incentivized?”
“Well, just a JavaStar card.”
We’re at the door. Oh, the things I want to say. Don is so dead. I just shake my head, give him a little half laugh and smile, and shut the door behind me.
I twist the dead bolt to the locked position and turn to head for my bedroom. A sheet of paper is folded and on the floor of my tiny foyer. Someone slid it under the door. If my downstairs neighbor is complaining about my workout routine again . . .
I bend over and pick it up. It’s a take-out menu for a Chinese restaurant. I start to crumple it up to throw away but unfold it to make sure nothing is on the back. There is.
A handwritten note from Dell.
I skim it and can barely breathe.
Oh God . . . what is going on?
75
June 20, 10:45 p.m.
HOW IN THE WORLD did he find me? Did Detective Conner rub off on him? I can only wish. He would have matched her incompetence and not found me at such an awkward moment.
The Woods brothers are no dummies. Not bad Dell, not bad. But why did you have to get involved and make a mess of things? What were you thinking? What in the world did you think you could do against me? Is that how you treat a brother? You just barge into where he’s working and interrupt what he’s doing? Have I ever done that to you? Of course not. That would be rude. Unacceptable.
And then he had the audacity to insist I stop. Was he serious? I thought he was bright. I had hoped he would recognize my genius. But in lieu of that, I would hope he had enough common sense to bow out gracefully, or at least appreciate what I’d done for him. I am his brother after all. Doesn’t blood count for something? It does for me.
He tried to talk me into turning myself in. Letting Klarissa go.
I don’t need to do anything. I do as I will. And I finish what I start.
Klarissa was playing possum on me. Drugs must have faded while I dealt with Dell. I can’t believe she hit me on the head with that vase and bit me. She has sharp teeth. I might need a rabies shot.
None of my girls have ever hurt me like that.
I’ll have to show her that women aren’t allowed to hurt me anymore.
She’s sleeping quietly now. And soon she will enter the sleep of eternity.
76
I AM FROZEN in place and time. What have I just read? Why didn’t I see this coming?
The note from Dell read:
I hope someday you will forgive me. I swear to you, I never knew what he was doing. I should have come in and talked to you when you asked me to. I just didn’t want to believe my brother was capable of such atrocities. He’s had such bad luck in life, I wanted to know for myself what he was doing before pointing you in his direction.
I know I’m rationalizing. Here’s what you really need to know.
I drove over to my townhome earlier this week. I didn’t go in. I just wanted to see who was watching. I was expecting to see the police staking it out. Instead I saw Dean. That’s when I knew he was probably involved in these murders. I followed him when he left. I can barely write these words. I know how much they are going to hurt you.
Dean knows where Klarissa lives. He drove to her street and watched her home for a couple hours. It was Wednesday. I lost him when he drove off, but I can’t help but think she is his next victim. So I’ve been watching her home to protect her. I just haven’ t been able to bring myself to turn him in. But I finally came to my senses and realized I needed to let you know. When you didn’t pick up tonight, I decided to drive over and tell you face-to-face. You weren’t here so I’m leaving this note. I know it’s inevitable so I’m ready to be interviewed by authorities. I just want you to be present and I want you to know what is happening first. That’s why I didn’t leave a message on your cell for the FBI to hear.
I hope you get this note soon.
I’m driving back over to Klarissa’s home now. I promise to keep her safe.
I’m sorry. Please find it in your heart to forgive me.
How in the world does Dell think he can protect Klarissa against a serial killer? What is wrong with him? And he thinks he can dictate that I’m there for his interviews? He’s lost it.
I grab my Beretta from my handbag and drop it in the front pocket of my Under Armour jacket. I open the door, shut it with a bang, and run down the stairs. My eyes are scanning the parking lot for my protective detail as I hit the bottom of the stairs. Where did they park? I see them close to the entrance. I hop in my car, gun the engine, jam it in reverse, and lay down rubber driving over to them. Carter is out of the car, his hand held up to stop me. I roll down the window.
“Who’s the best driver between you two?” I ask.
“Me,” he answers. I remember him following me on the drive to Grace Mills’ murder scene. He is good.
“Get ready to run some red lights and stay with me. And get your weapons locked and loaded. We’ve got a potential situation that includes the Cutter Shark.”
His eyes get wide and he starts to ask a question. I interrupt with the first word still formed on his mouth. “I’m leaving right now. If you’re coming, you better get in that car and start it up.”
I’ve pulled out and am half a block away when I see the unmarked patrol car bounce out of the parking lot behind me in my rearview mirror. It’s not quite eleven. I need to get over to Klarissa’s now. Dell doesn’t know what he’s doing. I’ve got two pups to help me out. But I need the whole cavalry riding with me.
I hit Klarissa’s number. This might not be the night he is going to strike. I can hope. But she still has to get out of t
here. I don’t even get a ring. It goes straight into voice mail. I hit one to bypass the instructions and say to her, “Klarissa, listen carefully. You are not safe at your place. If you are home, you need to get out of there right now. But carefully. Turn off the lights. Do a quick outside scan. Then go out your back door if the coast is clear. I think that is probably best. Hit the alley and start running west. Call me when you’re a couple blocks away and I’ll pick you up.”
Please be on the phone with someone else. Let that be the reason I got no ring. Please be safe.
I hit Don’s number on speed dial.
“How are you, ma’am?” he asks with a chuckle.
“Don, do you have a piece of paper and something to write with?” I ask.
“Not in the mood for a joke?”
“Don, I’m on my way to Klarissa’s. I need to give you her address. I need backup. Now!”
“What’s going on, Conner?”
“Don, no time to talk. Don’t ask me any questions. Call back after you get our team moving and I’ll give you everything I know—which isn’t much. But you’ve got to get things rolling now. The Cutter has targeted Klarissa. He may or may not be in the proximity of her place. Ditto with Dell. I need the ponies running now. But they have to come in silent and invisible. Got that?”
“Give me the address.”
I repeat it twice and then hang up as he’s trying to say something to me. I already know he’s going to tell me to stand down until backup is present. He just needs to get the troops rolling and I need to handle whatever it is facing me at Klarissa’s. I wish Dell would call me now. He was on his way to Klarissa’s an hour ago. Call me, Dell. Tell me Klarissa is okay.