“Yeah, I think so.”
There were crews combing the area between Brenda and Katie’s houses. So far they’d found nothing. They’d been working when the call came in to get to the Braddock house. They had been so close and yet it wasn’t close enough.
“You think he killed Brenda too?”
“It seems likely enough. Brenda was close to you and…” Wilson cut himself off. Katie had buried her head in her hands. Tears poured through her fingers.
“Perhaps it’s best if we switch to you, Mrs. Braddock.”
Sheila did not look at Wilson. She just continued to stare at Katie. Katie did not meet her eyes. “I told you I’m not saying anything until Detective Miles gets here.”
“Okay. Well then perhaps it’s best if we just take a break.”
Neither woman said anything. So Wilson stood up and walked out the door.
92.
Officer Klefus sat in front of Principal Sheath’s desk. The man walked in with a thin
folder under his arm.
“This is all I have on Brandon Mullins. He’s a fairly new student to us.”
Officer Klefus opened the folder. It was an official transcript from Brandenburg Preparatory Academy.
“He was a good student.”
“Yes,” Sheath said. “Excellent in fact. From the reports that I received from his teachers, he was a very bright young man.”
Klefus stood up. “Well thank you very much for this sir. We’ll be in touch if we need
anything else.”
“We’re here to help,” Sheath said.
Klefus pulled his cell phone out as he approached his car.
“I’ve got his previous school but not much else.”
“How long was he enrolled there?” Wilson asked.
“Two years according to his transcripts.”
“Okay, good. Go and have a talk with the people over there then.”
“Yes sir, I’ll call when I find something.”
93.
Dunham stood in front of the nurse. “Detective Miles needs to be released immediately.”
”Mr. Dunham, I just can’t allow that. He needs much more care before he can go.”
There was a beep over the floor’s intercom system.
“Bed exit room thirty-two,” a female voice intoned.
The nurse glanced into the room. Dunham followed her gaze. Frank was standing and ambling towards the door.
“Shit, again.” She rushed into the room, Dunham followed behind her.
“Mr. Miles, you aren’t allowed to leave your bed yet, we’ve been over this.”
Frank gestured at Dunham.
“You see he wants to leave.”
The nurse wheeled on him. “It isn’t about what he wants,” She whispered. “If he leaves here, he could die.”
“So he’ll sign a release,” Dunham said.
The nurse stared at him. “If you care about your friend, you’ll make him stay.”
“The fact that I care about him, is exactly why I want him to leave, as soon as possible.”
The nurse threw her arms up in the air. “Fine. I’ll get you a release, but he’s not going anywhere until he signs it.”
94.
Klefus sat in a hard and cold plastic chair in front of Principal Harris’s office.
“This is a very serious matter,” Klefus said to the blonde secretary. How long do you think he’ll be?”
“He’s at a meeting with the school board,” the secretary said. “But he left as soon as I called. He shouldn’t be more than fifteen minutes or so.”
Klefus nodded and looked at the chairs lining the wall. He felt like he was in high school again. He had not been a stranger to the principal’s office, and he’d only graduated nine years ago.
“Maybe I can help?”
“Not unless you know anything about Brandon Mullins.”
“Oh, sure. You’re probably following up on that. Wasn’t that a shame?”
Klefus’s ears perked. “What do you mean?”
The secretary’s face wrinkled in confusion. “You know, how the family was murdered. They still don’t know who did it.”
Klefus rushed to the desk. “Brandon Mullins is dead?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, if you didn’t know that, why are you here?”
“He’s a suspect in an investigation.”
“Oh no, not Brandon. He was such a good kid.”
“When was he killed?”
“Gosh, I guess it was a few weeks ago now.”
“Before or after he transferred schools?”
The secretary’s eyes lit with recognition. “You know, I forgot all about that. He was going to transfer wasn’t he? A principal called here the day before they found the bodies. He was very insistent. Wanted the transcripts sent over that day. I e-mailed him a copy, but he still wanted me to put a copy in the mail. I thought it was odd at the time.”
“The day before they found him dead?”
The secretary thought for a second. “Yeah, it was. I remember it was a Thursday because Thursdays are my yoga days. I dropped the transcripts in the mail on my way to class. No one thought anything was strange when he didn’t show up the next day, because of the transfer, ya know? But I guess the Dad, he was a writer, had some meeting that he didn’t show up for and his agent found him.”
“What did Brandon look like?”
The secretary smiled. “Very handsome young man. All the girls liked him.”
“Was he bald?”
She recoiled. “No. He had gorgeous hair. Why do you ask?”
“I have to go, thank you.”
Klefus fished his cell phone out of his pocket while on full sprint.
“He’s not Brandon.”
“What?” Wilson asked.
“The family was found murdered the day after he transferred schools.”
“Fuck. Okay, get back here now.”
“On my way.”
95.
Frank sat next to Dunham. There were no lights on Dunham’s car, but that didn’t stop him from doing eighty, weaving in and out of traffic.
There was a pad and a pen on Frank’s lap, but he hadn’t used it since they’d left the hospital.
“The mom wants to see you,” Dunham said.
Frank scrawled on his notepad. He held it up. Dunham glanced over at it.
The little girl is gone?
Dunham nodded.
Frank put his face in his hands and began to cry.
Dunham turned back towards the road. Both to make sure that they didn’t die in a fatal crash and to avoid looking at Frank.
“There’s nothing that we could have done,” Dunham said. “Because of you, we know what he looks like and now we’ll get the bastard.”
Frank began writing again. Dunham didn’t want to look. There had been too much today, his heart didn’t want to deal with any more pain, but his head told him that Frank had valuable information and that was the only thing that mattered in solving this case. So Dunham glanced over and read the note.
I could have stopped him when I had the chance. I could have been more careful. I could have called for backup.
Dunham sighed. “You’re right.” His eyes were back on the road and thus he was spared from any reaction that Frank might have had to his words. “You could have done all those things, but you also didn’t know. You might have suspected, but you didn’t know.”
The road curved and the tires squealed as Dunham bore into it.
“You’re a good cop Frank. Probably the best cop I’ve ever worked with and you know that none of that shit matters now. It doesn’t matter that Braddock is dead, it doesn’t even matter that the little girl is dead. The only thing that matters right now is that there’s a killer out there. You and I both know that he’s coming back. He’ll come for the other two. He won’t be able to help himself. Right now we’ve got to concentrate on that. There’s no room in this job for bad feelings, there is only room for evidence and re
ason and we’re going to use both to nail this mother fucker to the wall.”
Dunham snuck a glance over at Frank. He was looking out at the road in front of them, but he was nodding.
Good, Dunham thought. Cause I’m gonna need someone that isn’t cracking up.
95.
Agent Conrad sat in the passenger seat. Carol drove. He kept looking at the blue, digital numbers on the radio. They marched ever onward, not slowing down, just because he had a plane to catch. Time didn’t care who you were or what you were doing, like the energizer bunny it just kept going and going.
“Bill, why do you have to go?”
“Because he’s my guy. He’s my assignment and it’s my job.”
“You told me that the FBI doesn’t investigate murders. Remember when you told me that? When we first started dating. I told you I didn’t date cops because of the danger and you said…”
“I know. I’m not investigating this murder. We don’t do that. I’m merely consulting with the local law enforcement.”
“Why do they have to have you there?”
“Because they can’t handle it themselves.”
Conrad had no idea if this was true or not, he hadn’t called the local police force to tell him that he was coming. Nor did he tell anyone that he’d programmed ViCAP to notify him when there was an unsolved murder with the same MO. Conrad hadn’t told anyone, anything. As far as his superiors knew, he was taking a sick day.
The control tower of O’Hare jutted up in the distance. Conrad looked down at the clock; they were going to make it after all. Fuck you, time.
“How long will you be gone?”
“Until we catch the guy. But you can stay at my place until I get back. That way you can feed Rochester.”
“Oh goodie, I get to baby-sit your cat while you’re gone? Then we can both worry if
you’re alive or not.”
“Carol, you knew this was my job when we got together.”
”No, I didn’t. You told me that you worked behind the desk mostly. You went over paperwork to see if mob bosses screwed up and gave you something that you could arrest them for. You told me that you rarely went out into the field and when you did it was to talk to informants.”
Carol’s face was flushed. Her hands griped the steering wheel so hard that it cut off the flow of blood to her knuckles and turned them pale.
She was right, of course. That was all he did, and he hated it.
“Well I guess I forgot to mention this part of it. But how was I supposed to know that a serial killer would pop up?”
“You’re fuckin’ right you forgot to mention it. I swear if anything happens to you.”
Carol stopped the car in front of the terminal doors. She turned and regarded Conrad with worried eyes.
“Just be careful. Stay back from everything okay?”
“I will.”
“And call me.”
Conrad leaned forward and planted a kiss on her lips. “You know I will. I gotta go.” He jumped out of the car and ran into the terminal. Carol looked after him, wondering if she’d ever see him again.
96.
Dunham walked into the police station. Frank trailed behind him. He walked with his back bent slightly forward, shambling like an elderly man.
“Good,” Wilson said. He looked at Frank. “When we go in there, I don’t want to hear a word out of you. You’re only here because she wants you here.”
Frank smiled.
Dunham put an arm on Wilson’s shoulder. The man took a step back, perhaps anticipating another attack.
“Before you two go in there, I need to talk to you in your office.”
Wilson searched the man’s eyes for some kind of malice and then nodded his head. “Okay, but let’s hurry, every minute we spend talking is another minute we’re not doing.”
Dunham followed Wilson to the back of the station; Frank watched them go and then headed for the interrogation room.
97.
Sheila tapped her foot on the ground. It rung out, making an echo in the room. Katie sat next to her, their shoulders almost touched. They hadn’t spoken a real word to each other since they’d been led into the room.
Katie looked at the mirror. Thinking had become the enemy and yet there was no one to talk to. It was clear that her mother didn’t want to converse and this only brought about more thinking. Hateful thinking.
This is all your fault.
How could I know?
Don’t hide from it. You did this.
I thought he was my friend.
Your sister is dead and it’s your fault.
The door opened. Sheila turned her head. It was Miles. He looked different somehow, but it was him. The words that had poisoned her mind flew forward.
She stood up and walked over to him. She saw her hand fly from her side and heard it crack across his face before she knew what was happening. Frank turned with the blow and then met her eyes again.
“You son of a bitch! You promised me that you’d get him! Look what’s happened and where have you been. Who the fuck cares? You are a piece of shit!”
Sheila’s face was red, her hair hung stringy around her face. Her eyes were puffed out and Frank just looked at her.
“Say something you asshole!”
Frank reached into his pocket but Sheila slapped his hand away. “Answer me!”
98.
Wilson closed the door and turned to face Dunham. “What?”
“We’re dealing with a serial killer.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“Then act like it. This bastard has killed someone in my city, someone in your city and someone in San Stephan. Not to mention his assault on my officer in San Stephan.”
“I know that.”
“You don’t like me, I’m not sure why, but I know you don’t.”
Wilson opened his mouth to respond but Dunham put out his hands.
“It doesn’t matter. The point is, we have to work together. You have evidence, we have evidence. We’re going to have to set up a task force to get this guy. A joint task force. We can share information, ideas, manpower. I don’t know about you, but the only thing that’s important to me is bringing this guy in.”
“Okay,” Wilson said. “You’re right. Neither one of us can do this alone. We should call the guys from San Stephan too. I would suggest a six person base. Two people from each city. We’ll leave the investigation up to them, they can request manpower, money, whatever.”
“That’s fine,” Dunham said. “Pick your guys and we’ll arrange the first meeting in…” Dunham looked at his watch. “Say two hours. That should give you enough time to compile the forensics you got off that girl.”
“Okay, fine. But first can I finish with the Braddocks?”
“Be my guest.”
99.
“Say something!” Sheila screamed. The door opened behind her. Wilson walked in with another man that looked vaguely familiar.
“I told you to wait where you were,” Wilson said, but there was no enmity in his voice. He simply walked to the other side of the table and sat down.
“He can’t talk,” Dunham said.
Sheila turned. “Why?”
“The suspect cut out his tongue.”
Sheila turned her head back to Frank. It was more than just a mere muscle movement, it was a process. Watching it, Dunham thought he might hear the creak of rusty machinery.
Frank nodded at her gaze. Then he opened his mouth. He had not seen inside, but judging by Sheila’s reaction it was not a pretty sight.
She drew back and her hand rose to her mouth. “Oh dear God.”
Her ass bumped into the chair behind her and she reached a hand out to steady herself. Her eyes were saucers on her face.
“Frank found the guy, somehow. We haven’t had a chance to talk about that yet, he’s been in a coma. Guy shot him five times and cut his tongue out.”
Sheila sat down and faced Wilson. It was better than looking at D
etective Miles. “What do you want to ask me?”
“Can you think of any reason why this boy would target you?”
“No,” Sheila said.
Dunham took a seat next to the mother, Frank remained standing. He hung back from the crowd, listening.
“Think about it for a minute,” Dunham said. “It may be that you just got unlucky, but if not, it would go a long way to helping us locate him. Did either you or your husband make any enemies?”
Sheila bent her head in concentration. She remained that way for nearly two minutes, finally she raised her head. “No. I really couldn’t think of any reason.”
“Katie what was Brandon like?”
“That’s his name?” Dunham asked.
Wilson glanced over at the Chief. “Probably not, it’s the name that he gave Katie, but according to one of my officers he ghosted it.”
“What?” Katie asked.
“Brandon Mullins is dead. He went to a Preparatory Academy a few cities over. We have reason to believe that our guy killed him and his family and then stole his identity. This way he could pass as a classmate of yours. To get close to you.”
“He used me.”
Dunham cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should let the Braddocks go for now. They’ve both been through quite a bit today and I think there are several things we need to discuss before we go any further.”
Wilson nodded. “Fine, we’ll get you two a hotel room and send some of our men with you.”
“No,” Sheila said. Katie looked over, surprised.
“Would you prefer to leave the state?” Dunham asked.
“No,” Sheila repeated. “I want to go back to our house.”
“Not possible,” Wilson said. “Your house is a crime scene now. Besides this Brandon knows where you live, it won’t be safe.”
Sheila turned to her daughter. “Katie, honey, you can go wherever you want. It’s probably better if you stay at a hotel anyway, but I’m going back to our house.” Sheila turned to Wilson. “My husband and I bought that house when Katie was two years old. Karen…” She broke off into a fit of sobs. “Karen…was….born there. This bastard might have been able to take from us before, but he’s not taking any more from me. That’s my house and he’s not going to deny me staying there.”
Beneath the Mask of Sanity Page 19
