by Jaden Skye
“Don’t worry, we’ll get him,” she whispered.
“You bet we will,” he replied gruffly.
Clay stepped over to where both of them were standing. “Heartbreaking to find a dead mother in a place like this,” he said. “I wonder if she brought her children here. Was this a place she loved? Did he know it?”
“The killer left her here for shock value,” Tracy responded. “He has a need to destroy beauty and innocence. He wants to terrify kids.”
“Are you saying his next victim will be a child?” Clay looked rattled.
“No,” Tracy replied. “This victim was a mother, though. He’s obviously getting to her kids through her, as well.”
“Good point,” Clay agreed.
“Let’s not talk about future victims right now!” Hunter sharply intervened. “We’ve had two already in a short time. That’s more than enough.”
Tracy looked down along the empty boat. They actually had almost nothing right now. They didn’t even know where Shannon had been killed. Tracy tried to put herself in the killer’s shoes, feel what he’d been going through. As she did, she realized that leaving Shannon’s body here was a victory for him. He must loathe the families who came to these rides, badly wanted to spoil it for them. Why? she wondered. Was a happy family something he’d always longed for and could never have? Was he jealous of the happiness of others? Determined to destroy it as best he could? Did it thrill him to leave others as wounded as he was?
“Do you see anything else here, Tracy? Talk to us,” Hunter went on.
There was nothing to see on the boat itself, but Tracy did notice that at the very edge of the boat near where the body had been found the paint was rubbed off. It looked edgy and raw—just like the killer. Tracy looked around at the other beautiful Swan Boats, bobbing in the wind, totally unaware of what had happened. She thought of the excited children who had boarded the boats that day, looking forward to a wonderful ride.
“The killer is most likely re-experiencing some trauma he went through as a child in a playground, camp, or at school, Tracy mused out loud. “He was probably bullied. He must have been different from others even at an early age. Now he’s doing to others what was done to him. He’s trying to gain power where he once felt powerless.”
“We should focus on finding someone who feels powerless?” asked Clay.
“This guy doesn’t feel anything.” Hunter’s lips grew tight. “This is the work of a psychopath if I ever saw one. No one who has the least strain of humanity in them could do something like this.”
“He once had feelings, psychopath or not,” Tracy asserted. “Something devastating happened to him that he couldn’t handle. He crumbled inside, became more and more twisted, and this is the end result.”
Hunter turned to Tracy with an odd look on his face. “Where’s all this psychologizing leading? You’re not excusing this guy, are you?”
“Of course not,” said Tracy. “I’m not blaming or excusing him. I’m a scientist. It’s my job to find out who he is, why he did this, and lead you to him as soon as possible.”
Hunter felt satisfied with her answer. “Okay,” he said, “let’s move on.”
Chapter 7
The next step was to speak to Shannon’s family and Tracy was looking forward to it. They’d gotten clearance to go to her home for just half an hour. Needless to say, the entire family was incredibly distressed and Shannon’s children were being guarded from the public.
“The family will be interviewed in depth a little later on,” said Hunter. “We’ve already started interviewing Shannon’s friends at acquaintances at the office.”
“Half an hour is good,” said Tracy, eager to step into Shannon’s world.
The FBI car drove up to a ranch home in a fine neighborhood, a few blocks away from the local church Shannon had worked at. As they drove along the neighborhood, all seemed to be in perfect order, the manicured lawns well cared for, the spring plantings in bloom.
“Once again, the killer struck disorder in the heart of an orderly world,” Tracy speculated. She tried to envision how he had ever run into Shannon. What possible connection could they have had?
Hunter, Tracy, and Clay got out of the car and walked to the front door. Hunter knocked loudly.
A pale young woman in her mid-twenties, wearing an apron over her dress, opened up.
“Please come in,” she said graciously, “you’re expected.” She seemed to work for the family. Obviously ill at ease, the young woman showed them into a simple, traditionally furnished living room and motioned for them to sit down.
“I realize this is a hard time to talk to law enforcement,” Tracy offered as she sat on the beautiful formal sofa. Tracy wanted to see if she could get anything out of the young woman.
“Of course it is.” The young woman looked straight at Tracy.
“How are the children doing?” Tracy jumped at the slight connection between them.
“They’re fine. You can’t see them.” The young woman became startled.
Just then an attractive man in his early forties walked in. He looked tired, but clean and well groomed. This had to be the victim’s husband, Jeffrey Glaze, thought Tracy.
“ That’s enough, Alba,” Jeffrey said to the young woman. “You can go to the children now. They need you.”
Alba nodded deferentially and rushed out of the room, not looking back.
“Thank you for taking the time to speak to us at such a terrible moment.” Hunter stood up and extended his hand to him.
“You’re welcome,” said Jeffrey, bypassing the handshake. Instead, he sat down on a dark green upholstered chair and looked them over.
“We wouldn’t be here so early on,” Tracy spoke, “except that we fear another killing is about to take place. Anything you can tell us could help prevent that from happening.”
“I realize that,” said Jeffrey. “That’s why I’m talking to you now. What can I tell you?”
“How could your wife have possibly come into contact with the killer?” Hunter started boldly. “Any ideas at all?”
Jeffrey looked at Hunter coldly. “None at all. Absolutely none. In fact, it’s out of the range of my imagination.”
Clay picked it up from there. “Can you tell us about your wife’s patterns of movement, how she spent her days, where she went, who she spent time with? Who did she inadvertently run into?”
Jeffrey cleared his throat. “There was nothing noteworthy about how Shannon spent her days, nothing at all. She took care of the children, prepared the meals, kept the house in order. She worked half days at the nursery school in the church, a few blocks away. Shannon had many friends, they had lunch occasionally. Other days they arranged play dates for the children. Believe me, the full range of her activities covered a finite number of blocks. She was happy, though, she liked it this way. As my law firm began to grow we hired Alba to help out. It was all going well, no glitches. Nothing to ever warn us of something like this.”
Jeffrey spoke in a methodical, lawyerly fashion and as Tracy listened to him she scanned the room they were in. There was nothing unusual or questionable here either. A few toys were scattered in one corner, and framed pictures of the family were everywhere. The home was no different from many others in the neighborhood, Tracy supposed. A large photo of Shannon caught Tracy’s eyes. She was lovely to look at, in the bloom of life, with ash-blonde hair..
“Where did Shannon go missing from? Who was the last one to see her?” Tracy asked methodically. It was all in the record, but she wanted to hear it directly from him.
“We don’t know who last saw her exactly, yet,” Jeffrey replied, looking at Tracy oddly. “Several of the other nursery school teachers mentioned seeing her walk down the hallway and leave school as she did every day after work. Nothing unusual. Shannon walked out the front doors to go home, and that was the last anyone saw her. The search for my wife went on for about two weeks. Everyone’s heard about it.”
Tracy nee
ded to hear Jeffrey talk about it, see his reaction, get a flavor of their relationship.
“What time did she leave work?” asked Tracy.
“The same as always, about twelve thirty in the afternoon,” Jeffrey replied.
The killer had to have grabbed her in plain daylight, thought Tracy. It was unlikely that she was grabbed, though. It had to have been someone she knew and was familiar with. There was no struggle at all. She had gone with him gladly.
“Did Shannon usually get a lift home with someone?” Tracy asked.
“Not that I know of.” Jeffrey shrugged. “I suppose she might have, once in a while, but it never came up. Her co-workers and friends would know more about that. They’re speaking to the police directly.”
“Yes, that’s true,” Hunter confirmed.
Jeffrey looked at them quizzically. “What else can I add?” he asked. “Shannon was a fine, upright woman, a fabulous mother. She loved kids, all of them. She was a favorite teacher at the nursery school. All the kids wanted to be in her class.”
Being a great mother was one thing, and a great wife another, thought Tracy. “You had a good marriage?” she asked.
“The best,” Jeffrey replied, offended. “Are you suggesting otherwise? Has anyone said anything like that?”
“No, not at all,” Tracy answered, when suddenly an older woman came into the room. From the look on her face, it had to be Shannon’s mother. Although stalwart in appearance, she was now slightly bent over.
“The children need you, Jeffrey,” she said in no uncertain terms.
Jeffrey got up quickly and nodded. “I’m going, Agnes,” he responded and then turned to Tracy. “That’s all I have to say,” he continued, before going to the door and leaving Agnes behind with them.
“I’m so sorry for your terrible loss,” Tracy said to Agnes.
“For everyone’s terrible loss.” Agnes’s voice cracked. “No one will ever replace my daughter, not for me or her children, ever.”
“Of course not,” Tracy murmured, feeling the old pit in her stomach. “One person can never replace another.”
“How can I help you?” Agnes looked kindly at Tracy, seeming to appreciate her understanding.
“Anything you can tell us about your daughter’s life that could have possibly led to her death would be greatly valued,” Tracy spoke softly.
“Of course it would,” Agnes answered under her breath. “I’m not sure if I knew everything about Shannon’s life, though.” She looked down at the floor. “I always lived near my daughter, came to help often, but about a year ago, Shannon stopped speaking as freely as she used to. I figured something was going on she might be upset about.” Agnes turned her startling gray eyes on Tracy then. “But how would I know? It just thought so.”
Tracy took a step closer. “Like what could have been going on?” she asked confidentially, one woman talking to another under the cloak of secrecy.
Agnes took a step closer to Tracy as well, seemingly glad to have the opportunity to talk.
“I actually thought Shannon’s husband, Jeffrey, was having an affair,” Agnes said in a grating tone. “He was gone a lot more than usual and came home later at night, too. That much Shannon told me. What else should I think?”
Tracy took a deep breath. “Did you ask Shannon why he was out so much?”
“She just said his business was growing,” Agnes replied. “Shannon was very proud of Jeffrey’s law firm.”
Tracy wouldn’t let it go at that. “What reason did you have not to believe your daughter? What made you think Jeffrey was having an affair?”
“No reason that I can point to.” Agnes’s voice grew murky. “Just sometimes mothers feel these things. And how do we know? Maybe the woman Jeffrey was with was jealous of Shannon, wanted her life? That’s all I can think of day and night now.”
The door opened swiftly then and Jeffrey marched back into the room, right over to Agnes, putting his arm around her.
“There’s no reason for you to be upsetting Shannon’s mother,” he spoke abruptly to Tracy. “She has enough to deal with right now, doesn’t she?”
“She’s not upsetting me, Jeffrey.” Agnes stood straighter. “We’re trying to find Shannon’s killer! Aren’t we? Aren’t we?”
“Enough is enough,” Jeffrey repeated, overriding her comment. “It’s time for law enforcement to leave.”
Tracy had no choice but to back off, and Hunter and Clay as well.
“That’s fine,” Hunter responded. “We appreciate being here at all. Thank you for your time.” “If there’s anything else you may think of that can help, please let us know.”
“I will,” Jeffrey replied as he quickly showed them all to the door.
Chapter 8
The atmosphere was tense as Tracy, Clay, and Hunter got back into the car. Tracy immediately told them what Agnes had said about Jeffrey which only intensified their emotion.
“Everyone wants to blame someone after a death,” Clay responded, “especially when it’s a murder. I’d take what Agnes said with a grain of salt.”
“Think she’s imagining things?” asked Hunter.
“Most probably,” said Clay, “but her daughter’s just died. She’s trying to make sense out of it.”
“We have to look into her claim,” Tracy insisted. “Find out if Jeffrey had affairs and who they were.”
“In and of itself an affair means nothing,” Hunter insisted. “Lots of husbands have affairs. If we’re only looking for one killer, the question we have to keep in mind is how any affair Jeffrey had could be connected to Tina’s death, too.”
“You never know,” Tracy went with it. “If Jeffrey wasn’t satisfied at home, if he needed sex, for all we know he could have been Tina’s customer.”
“Please.” Hunter bristled. “Why would a man like Jeffrey need a prostitute? There are plenty of women out there who would throw themselves at him in a minute.”
“Could be he likes prostitutes,” Tracy suggested. “Plenty of successful guys prefer it. All business with no emotional ties.”
Hunter flinched.
“Or, if he was having an affair,” Clay chimed in, “could be his wife found out about it. Maybe it drove her straight into the arms of the guy who killed her?”
“We have to find out more about Jeffrey’s late nights out,” Tracy insisted. “We also have to learn what Shannon did all those nights she was alone.”
“As soon as they heard that Shannon went missing, the cops looked into Jeffrey,” Hunter said. “He came up as clean as a whistle. Friends said they had a picture book marriage. Jeffrey worked hard, was good to Shannon, and a great dad. Actually, if I remember correctly, when the first victim, Tina, went missing, Jeffrey and Shannon were out of town on vacation. There’s no connection between the cases. I’m sure of it.”
Still, Tracy didn’t like the way Jeffrey had gotten them out of the house so fast. There was something he was hiding, she was sure of it.
“Let’s look harder,” Tracy suggested. “Could be that Jeffrey Glaze has a whole different side to him. It’s worth exploring.”
“I’ll put someone on it again if you feel so strongly,” Hunter conceded.
Tracy was glad for the time they had together in the car, processing information. It helped to go over it bit by bit. She wanted even more time to go over Shannon’s death before they went to the alley where Tina had been found. “How about a quick bite of lunch before our next stop?” Clay suggested, looking at his watch.
“Not now,” Hunter responded. “We can stop, grab a sandwich at the local deli, eat in the car and not lose any time.”
“Twenty minutes sitting down in a diner isn’t going to make the difference,” Clay remarked.
“Everything makes a difference,” said Hunter. “I want to get to the back alley where Tina was dumped while we still have enough good light.”
The day had suddenly turned cloudy. and Hunter made sense, thought Tracy.
“There’s bee
n lots of rain this past week, too, so I don’t know what Tracy thinks she’ll see there,” Hunter continued.
“It’s the feel of being there that’s important,” said Tracy. “Each place talks to you in its own way. Let’s stop for a bite after we finish up there.”
The car turned off the next exit then and made straight toward a road that led directly to Dorchester. The streets got smaller and darker as they drove closer to the dark alley where Tina had been found.
“Look at it down here,” Hunter couldn’t help comment as they drove along. “Even if Jeffrey went to prostitutes, why would he come down here? It doesn’t make sense.”
“Nothing makes sense until it does,” said Tracy. “It will for us soon, too. I’m sure of it.”
*
They all became silent then as the car drove through dark, dirty streets, deep into the neighborhood that seemed more and more dilapidated with each passing block. Tracy took it all in. Shannon was left in daylight in a normative setting, much the way she lived. Tina was found in darkness, in a world where killings were common. Even with her mutilation, she wouldn’t stand out particularly, or make waves here.
The car stopped. They got out and walked gingerly into the back alley, which was dingy, empty, and bare. A few empty beer cans lay scattered around and against all odds, a lone tree in the back was trying to grow.
Hunter led them to the very back of the alleyway. Then he pointed to a corner Tina had been stuffed into. “Here, this is where he dumped her,” he said.
Tracy took a moment to experience it. Tina had been thrown here, like a piece of garbage. Before he was done with her, though, he needed to mutilate her. A final statement from a beast filled with hate, rage, and jealousy. What had she done to infuriate him so? Was it just who she was, or had they interacted? Had he been incapable of performing and then blamed her for it? There was a mustiness in the alley that made Tracy’s head spin.
