“Keep reading.”
I studied his eyes for a bit before returning to the letter. The issue ate away at him too, the conflict that was apparent in this case—we had to hold a killer responsible even if his motives seemed noble.
Turns out, I gave Benjamin more than a headache. They don’t expect him to survive. What have I done? But it’s done. I can’t reverse it. I blame the cocaine…coming down from it. I will never touch the stuff again!
And to think I got away with it...maybe I do deserve to die.
I am going to work at becoming a changed man. I was forgiven this time…or was I? And it’s all because I was after a high. Stupid kid.
Paige had told us Connie Sheppard heard Ellis say the exact same thing. Stupid kid.
There was a soft knock on the door.
“Come in,” Jack said.
“The box was taken out twenty-six years ago, almost to the day. The only time he was here, according to the records, is the day he took out the box.”
“Is there any way he could access it without there being a record?” I asked.
“No, absolutely not. Just like you had to sign in, Mr. Ellis would have been required to as well.”
“And there’s no way the record keeping would fail?”
The bank employee’s mouth contorted as if he were thinking of saying one thing but opted for another. “No.”
Maybe I was being difficult, but I found it interesting that Ellis would take out the box twenty-six years ago and never revisit it. Although, maybe his feelings of guilt had held him back.
“Okay, thank you.”
He left the room and I turned to Jack who was tapping his shirt pocket for a cigarette.
I was beginning to recognize it as an automatic impulse Jack had when he was stressed or didn’t like the direction a case was going. He also seemed to do it when we were narrowing in on closing an investigation. I dismissed my analysis. He was just an addict, plain and simple.
“So, Ellis took out the box and never came back,” I said.
“Seems to me he no longer felt threatened.”
“I was thinking the same thing at first. Except why hold onto the box? Why not get rid of it?”
Jack and I remained silent for a few seconds. With the quiet came the revelation that I had on the tip of my brain yesterday morning at breakfast. My heart raced.
“Jack, the bartender commented on Simpson and how he only went with friends he had known for a long time.” I paused, welcoming a verbal acknowledgment, but he said nothing and didn’t even give any visual indication he was listening. “To keep the box, Ellis thought the threat against him was still alive, but if he suspected a specific person he would have updated the contents with their name. He didn’t.”
“Hmm.”
I took that one as a good sign and went on. “Also, it didn’t seem that Ellis was under distress when he got into the Nissan with the other man, who we assume is our killer.”
The reflection in his eyes told me he understood where I was headed.
“Our unsub isn’t a stranger to the people he’s killing. They may very well know him.”
Chapter 30
The team was back at the field office discussing everything we had found out.
“We got the name of a park from Bowen, but there was no sign of Fields,” Paige said.
Zachery was across the table from me, his hands wrapped around a coffee mug. “He said that Fields had a dog before he and his father moved in with them. Bowen’s mother was allergic.”
“But that’s not the interesting part.” Paige’s eyes lit up. “Apparently the dog went to heaven not long before that. Good timing or orchestrated?”
“You’re thinking that this may have been the traumatic event that left Fields wanting to take revenge on these dog abusers,” Jack concluded.
“It’s possible,” Zachery said. “We also put a car on Fields’s father’s address. No sign of Fields there either.”
“If it was his father who basically started all this, why wait so long and why not just go straight to the father?” I asked.
Zachery considered my question for a second. “He may be building his way up to his ultimate target.”
“With us watching over his dad, he’ll never show up.”
“The kid’s got a point. Make sure that it’s an unmarked car and they allow some space.”
“Jack? Are you sure you want to do that? It doesn’t take long to kill someone.”
There was a fire in Jack’s eyes when he glared at Paige. “We have to bait Fields.”
“How do you propose we do that?” I asked.
It met with no response.
Paige picked up her cell to contact Denver PD with their revised approach plan. She hung up seconds later. “Done. They’ll hang back.”
“We’re still waiting on Nadia to finish working through the bar receipts. That needs to be rushed.” I thought I’d take a stab from another direction.
“And she still needs to update me about the politicians in the area from twenty-six years ago,” Paige said.
Jack glanced at me. “The kid had a good idea.”
On first instinct, I hated the nickname being in there, but the compliment faded its negative impact.
“He had the idea that maybe our killer isn’t a stranger to the men he’s targeting.”
“Interesting thought, Pending.”
Did Zachery think I needed his praise?
“Wait. Didn’t Jenna Simpson mention that her husband had a new friend he was spending time with?” Paige asked me.
“Yeah, a woman, remember? We have no reason to think our killer is a female.”
“No, like we’ve concluded before, it’s a male, based on victimology. He only kills men. A female wouldn’t hesitate to kill either sex,” Zachery said. “She’d exact vengeance on both.”
Paige laughed. “Remember that when you cross me, guys.”
Jack even smiled at that comment, but the expression was short-lived and he went back to business. “What else have we got?”
“It looks like Ellis had a bit of a gambling problem. His financial reports correspond with the past due bills found in his home. The guy was broke. More than broke. It seemed the only person getting paid was the lawyer. Besides the security box and bills to keep a roof over his head, everything else was in arrears.”
“What about the letters Brandon and I brought in from Ellis’s safety deposit box?” Jack asked.
Zachery spun his mug. “No update on the results at this point, from a forensic side of things. However, I’ve read all of them, including the ones received from Lyons. A lot of them were similar. Like the same people sent them out for all instances of animal abuse charges. There is one, though, that got my attention. Even more so after realizing Ellis received the exact same letter. While most of them didn’t hold back from describing how justice was going to be worked out, these letters simply read ‘You will pay for what you have done.’”
“If this is from our unsub, he’s shown a lot of patience.” My statement made me realize something. I sat up straighter. “What if Ball and Garner weren’t the first?”
“You’re forgetting that we checked into that already. Nothing came up, Kid.”
“Maybe we’re just missing something.”
Paige leaned forward on the table and clasped her hands. “Let’s go with the theory he bided his time. He isn’t an impulsive killer. He does a lot of planning, and doesn’t act on a whim. Each murder is premeditated. With Kent Fields, his career was just getting started. Reporting on these cases could have brought back what his father had done to their dog. He was angered, but willing to take his time in exacting revenge.”
“Like you said he’s not a natural killer. He was triggered.”
“Exactly.”
“And he was triggered by what?”
“We need to figure that out,” Jack said.
“There are only two other missing people before Lyons. Dean Garner, the first
reported, only dates back to two thousand nine,” Zachery said.
“And he was charged with what again?” Paige asked.
“Good thing for my wonderful memory, isn’t it?” Zachery smiled and received a playful glare from Paige. “He was charged with neglect. He had left the family dog, outside on a hot day. There was a heat advisory. The dog’s heart failed.”
“Gene Lyons left his dog unattended and tied, with a choker of all things, to a back deck. It strangled itself,” I said. “A coincidence or a pattern? Maybe this is what Fields’s father was guilty of? Then again, Simpson used poison.”
“Okay, but, going back to Garner. He was married, right? Seems I have a memory too.” Paige paused to flash a sardonic smile at Zachery. “His wife reported him missing after deciding enough time had passed and her husband should be home. Sounds like she’s a couch potato who doesn’t have much of a life. She’s just as responsible for what happened to the dog as her husband.”
“Yeah, she’s probably still well and alive.”
“Exactly, Brandon.” She bit her bottom lip. “Our killer is really fixated on male abusers who get away with it.”
“By the sounds of it, possibly just like Fields’s father, assuming he did play a part in the dog’s death.”
“All right. It’s time to pay Garner’s wife a visit.” Jack pulled out a cigarette. “Paige and Zach you go there. Brandon and I are going to talk to Fields’s father.”
Chapter 31
Jill Garner moved about the living room of her home, picking up stuffed toys. Most she threw into a toy chest at the side of the room, but she kept hold on a loosely stuffed bear. She played with its ears as she spoke. “My husband was a decent man.”
Paige had to wonder about how decent either of them were. Where was Jill when the dog was melting on the back deck?
Jill’s three-year-old granddaughter, Denise, sat at her feet playing with a Barbie. She was moving its arms and legs, and would periodically grab it by the hair and sway it side to side.
“The file notes that your husband was gone for three days before you reported him. I take it your husband was gone often?” Paige asked.
She kept tugging on the bear’s ear. “He was a,” she let go of the toy, letting it rest in her lap, and held up a hand to shelter her granddaughter from seeing her—as if she’d know how to spell at her age. She mouthed, “D-r-u-n-k.”
“And that didn’t bother you?”
“Of course it did, but what was I supposed to do about it? Leave him? He brought in the money. I had to get a job, thanks to him up and disappearing.”
Paige’s face heated. The woman had been around while the dog suffered. She glanced at the little girl. It was time that she left the room. She looked to Jill. “Is there a room where Denise can go play while we talk?”
The implication registered in Jill’s eyes. The subject matter was about to get a lot darker.
“Deni, why don’t I get you a juice and you can watch Aladdin in Grandma’s room?”
Her blue eyes lit and widened. “Okay.” The Barbie was tossed aside and forgotten.
When Jill returned, she no longer had the bear, and Paige surmised it got left behind with Denise to watch the movie.
“I’ve heard about what’s been happening around here lately. Those men who were murdered. The paper is hinting toward a serial killer targeting animal abusers from nearly three decades ago. Do you think this same person took Dean?”
“It’s too early to say for sure, but we suspect it may be a possibility. Do you know this man?” Zach extended a photograph of Kent Fields.
She took it and studied it briefly. “He looks familiar. He’s someone famous, isn’t he?”
“He’s an award-winning journalist.”
“Ah, probably why I recognize him.” She handed the photo back to Zach.
“Was your husband friends with him, or ever mention him?”
“No.” She slid her eyes from Zachery to Paige. “Should he have?”
“What about any new friends in your husband’s life around the time he went missing?”
Jill patted the arms of the chair. “You never answered my question, but I’m supposed to answer yours?”
“We don’t know if they were friends, we’re trying to find that out,” Paige said.
Satisfied, Jill continued. “No, I don’t remember mention of any new friends, but who knows.”
“What about hate mail after the charges were laid against your husband?”
“Oh, now you’re stretching my mind to twenty-some years ago, but I think so.”
“You must not have taken them very seriously.”
“People spout things off all the time. It doesn’t mean they are going to act on them.”
“You wouldn’t still have them around, would you?”
Jill laughed. “Heavens, no. And at this point, I couldn’t even tell you any names that were on the letters. Although, I think one was from the animal activist group, Humanity Against Animal Abusers.”
Chapter 32
Shane Fields was an older version of Kent. His eyes were a brilliant blue and stood out in contrast to his light complexion. His eyebrows were nearly white with a tinge of blond, while the hair on his head was mostly gray.
He lived in an esteemed neighborhood and the house made me think of Jenna Simpson’s.
Shane hesitated to let us in, but eventually did and led us into his living room.
“Why are you interested in Kent?” he asked, as he lowered into a stiff-looking reading chair. He directed us to a matching sofa.
“Before we get into that, we have some questions about his childhood,” Jack said.
Shane angled his head. “I don’t understand why that would interest the FBI.”
It was apparent we’d have to provide this man more information to get him to open up.
“You’ve heard about the murdered men in the news, I’m sure.”
Shane didn’t say anything, or nod. If it wasn’t for his rapt attention on Jack, I wouldn’t even be sure he heard what Jack had said.
“Your son is a suspect.”
Shane’s face paled to a point I wouldn’t have imagined possible. He sat up straighter, pulling himself upright using the arms of the chair. “You’re telling me that my son killed those men?”
“I said he’s a suspect.”
“And why would that be the case?”
“We believe it all began with a childhood event—”
“Stop right there. I’m not going to allow you to come into my home and tell me that I raised a killer. And that I’m who made him that?” A tint of color was back in the man’s cheeks.
“We aren’t saying that. Your son reported on cases of animal abuse when his career started out.”
“That makes him the killer?” Shane glanced at me. “This is insane.”
“Do you know where you son is?”
“Excuse me?”
I was thinking the same thing. Jack had diverted the conversation with a sharp turn.
“He seems to be on the run.”
“Or missing?” Shane glowered. “Maybe the real killer has him.”
The angles of Jack’s features sharpened.
“I have no idea. We’re not really close.” The last sentence was spoken in a lower volume.
“Yet you’re certain he isn’t a killer.”
Sometimes I wondered if Jack said things to elicit a reaction.
“He bought me this house after his first Pulitzer. Said it was for raising him. It’s ironic how many parents give their kids money and gifts to offset being absent from their lives, and here, my son did that to me. Just thought of it that way.”
“We understand that you had a dog when Kent was young.”
“Yes, a Lhasa apso. Furry thing. This one shed like crazy and had a wild grin. Its bottom teeth protruded over the top.”
“What happened to it?”
“It died,” he looked between us and added, “of natural causes.”
“It was convenient timing with moving in with Bowen’s mother,” I said. “She had allergies and didn’t want the dog.”
“You think I killed the dog? That Kent knew about it? And then what? He became traumatized and is taking it out on other people? Is that why I’ve noticed a squad car outside my house more than once?”
Apparently we had been too late in giving the updated direction to PD to hang back.
Shane’s arrogance gave way to a nervous expression. “You think he might come after me?”
“We think it might be a possibility,” Jack said. “But if you had nothing to do with the dog’s death then—”
“I never killed that damned dog. It was already dying from heart failure. Kids don’t realize this but dogs don’t live forever. Checkers was eleven and had a heart murmur from the time she was a pup. I told Kent she went to heaven. In reality, heaven cost me a fortune.”
I stated the obvious. “You never killed the dog, but that’s not how a young boy might see things. To him you could have been responsible for its death.”
“Ridiculous. There was nothing that I could be done for it.”
“Where did you have it put down?” Jack asked.
Shane pushed into his chair. “Paws and Claws Veterinary Clinic. Check it out if you have to.” Shane’s jaw slid askew. “Now, is that all?”
“One more question for you. Do you know of any places your son might go to get away from things?”
Shane shook his head. “Like I said, we haven’t been real close. I know he liked Railyard Dog Park when he was young.”
“We’ve been there and there’s no sign of him.”
“Well, I don’t know what else to say.”
Jack’s cell phone rang.
“Thank you for your time, Mr. Fields.” I stood up and so did Shane.
Jack stayed seated and answered his phone.
Shane passed Jack an odd glance, impatience blanketing over his features. He wanted his solitude back.
“And you’re certain?” Jack asked his caller. His eyes latched with mine. He nodded, obviously in response to the answer he was receiving.
The Defenseless (Brandon Fisher FBI Series Book 3) Page 13
