The Chilling Spree

by LS Sygnet

  “Are you saying that you didn’t murder Rick?”

  “I’m saying that the gun was never recovered from where his body was found because I was there. I panicked. I took the gun, stripped it down to parts, which I threw into several different locations along the Potomac River.”

  “Helen –”

  “I didn’t kill him.” Practice makes perfect. The lie became easier to tell the second time around, third if I counted the night Johnny pedaled my fiction to David Levine and put what I hoped was the eternal kibosh on the FBI’s glaring interest in me as a villain. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t hold myself responsible.”

  His fists clenched the steering wheel until the knuckles glowed against the green lights spilling from the dashboard. “I don’t think I want to hear the rest of this.”

  “You hate me, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know how I feel, so until I have time to process this and figure it out, let’s focus on the murder investigation at hand.”

  Foreshadowing anyone? I felt the executioner sharpening the blade poised above my neck and cursed myself for not devising plan B sooner. As it was, my rapid departure from Darkwater Bay was far from being ready at a moment’s notice. Why hadn’t I spent more time preparing for the inevitable exit from this cursed city when I had time?

  These were the thoughts that kept me from showing Johnny how completely he’d fractured my heart.

  Chapter 32

  Theo and Marion Goddard were escorted by two uniformed Downey Division officers to the tiny satellite division for Bay View on Hennessey Island. They waited until Johnny and I arrived before Mr. Goddard jumped up and demanded answers.

  “Nothing ever changes in this city. You cops think you can manhandle –”

  “Mr. Goddard, we’d like to talk to you about your son.” Ice leeched into my veins. Why shouldn’t it? Johnny proved that the little science experiment aimed at converting me into a normal human being was little more than a joke. Dad was right. Distance is the key to a successful life in the Eriksson family.

  “Kylie?”

  I saw Johnny’s jaw sag in the corner of my eye.

  “Then you’re aware of his life as an alter?”

  “Aware of it?” Disgust pillowed his words. “I don’t know what kind of parents you think we are, detective, but we know our son, and if he wants to live his life a certain way, we’re not going to be anything but supportive. Hell, if Kylie wants gender reassignment surgery, we’ll support that too.”

  “Is that something he’s considered?”

  Marion Goddard stared at the floor. “I don’t believe it is, detective. Kylie is very young. Decisions could change in the future.”

  I soaked up body language from one parent to the other. The father’s defensiveness, his blunt acceptance sat on one side of the scale. The mother’s reticence and seeming desire for her son to pick a role and embrace it balanced in contrast.

  “You’re right. Youth isn’t the time to make such drastic decisions, is it, Mrs. Goddard?”

  She peeked up at me. “No.”

  “I’m curious about his absence from your vacation,” I pried a little deeper into the family dynamic.

  Goddard snorted. “I fail to see how any of this is your business, detective. Or is that the new and improved Darkwater Bay police department”

  “I’ve met him, you know, your estranged brother,” I refused to pretend ignorance to the true cause of his affront, forced the issue and counted on Goddard’s reaction letting some of the family dynamic out of the tightly sealed closet door. “Scott said that he and Kyle saw each other regularly.”

  Goddard glared at his wife. “Is that a fact?”

  Bingo.

  “Commander Orion, perhaps it would be better if you talk to Mrs. Goddard while Theo and I discuss his brother in private.”

  I waited until Johnny ushered her out of the room to parts unknown.

  “He is not my brother!”

  “Biology would say otherwise, Mr. Goddard. Scott says that you’ve had a rather acrimonious relationship since the day he was born.”

  “The little psychopath would say that,” he muttered. “Everything is always about him, after all.”

  “Is that your official diagnosis?”

  He pinned me with a direct stare. “All right, so you know what I do for a living. You know that I have less than an ideal relationship with one of my brothers. You know that I don’t care if my son strongly identifies with the female gender. What I don’t know is how any of this is relevant to Darkwater Bay Police. Or the state police.”

  “Kyle didn’t go on the annual family trip because he wanted to spend time with his Uncle Scott. Is that what you refuse to discuss? Was the fact that Scott had a relationship with Kyle the reason you looked like you wanted to beat your wife a moment ago?”

  “I would never raise a hand to Marion! Why aren’t you answering any of my questions, Detective Eriksson?”

  “We’ll get to that in a little bit. Right now, I want to know why you can’t seem to stand so much as hearing your brother’s name, let alone facing the fact that your wife has apparently facilitated a relationship between Scott and Kyle against your express wishes.”

  One hand dragged slowly down Goddard’s face. “Will you at least tell me if my son is in some kind of legal trouble?”

  “Kyle is not under arrest, nor to my knowledge has he committed a crime. Right now, this is about his relationship with your brother, who I will say, appears to be at the center of a very nasty problem that has cropped up in Darkwater Bay over the past few days. I’d appreciate forthright cooperation, Dr. Goddard.”

  “I didn’t like the influence that Scott seemed to wield over my son,” Goddard muttered. “Kylie has known for years that he doesn’t feel like a boy. It probably started when he was a toddler. He wanted to be a princess at Halloween. Things like that.

  “I love my son. I’m not about to tell him to be anything less than a hundred percent who he is,” Goddard explained. “But Scott… he’s more concerned about the goddamned image of that stupid band of his. He thinks that Kylie should tone it down. He couches this advice to my son under the guise of concern for his safety. He fills my child’s head with the notion that Marion and I somehow have ensconced him in this bubble of false security. Scott thinks that the world is full of people who will target him and physically harm him for being different.”

  “And you don’t believe that’s true – in spite of what happened last October?”

  His eyes darkened. “Perhaps Marion and I do protect Kylie from some of the ugliness in this part of the world,” emphasis on this referring to Darkwater Bay, I supposed, which to my way of viewing the world was beyond naïve. “But other cities practice a much greater level of sophistication. Kylie insisted on remaining in Darkwater Bay. And he is uncertain about taking the next step in his transformation into who he really is.”

  “You’re talking about gender reassignment surgery.”

  “Of course I am. Marion quietly agrees with him on this issue, that Kylie is too young to make such a life changing decision. I on the other hand, believe that this decision was made years ago, when my son committed to living his life as a woman.”

  “You think that surgical alteration will make the world be more accepting of your son?” It had to be asked – officially – though I already knew the answer.

  “Of course it would! The beauty of it is that Kylie will be able to openly pursue relationships with men, without being deceitful, without having to pretend to be what he really wants to be.”

  And Goddard was beyond naïve. I thought of the ever growing number of men who committed murder after learning the original gender of women with whom they’d shared intimate relations. Galled as I was to admit it, I agreed with Scott Madden about his nephew. Still, it was the pretense that probably got Kyle murdered in the first place. Was he doomed to this fate no matter what he did? I silently wished for a world that had room for the random differences
in humanity, the ability to recognize the beauty of a richly diverse species.

  “Detective Eriksson, did my brother do something to my son?”

  “I’m not sure who did this,” I murmured. “The more information I learn, the more I feel that there are a number of people who bear responsibility, whether they were directly involved or not.”

  “That sounds like something very terrible has happened. Where is Kylie? Why isn’t he giving you the answers to your questions?”

  “It’s more complicated than one person’s perspective, Dr. Goddard. When was the last time you had an actual conversation with Scott?”

  He shook his head. “A couple of years ago. At least five. I made it clear that I wanted nothing to do with him or his entourage.”

  “You’ve met the people that work for your brother?”

  “Some of them, one in particular who I cannot believe my brother, who I hear now has had some sort of deep religious awakening, would keep in his circle of friends.”

  “Do you recall that person’s name?”

  “Underwood,” Goddard said with another grunt, “though my brother at the time called him something else. Underpants, I think. He was unkind to my son.”

  “In what way?” I imagined what sort of cruelty anyone could visit on a child at any age if Goddard’s memory was faulty.

  “He made Kylie cry, teasing him about wearing a dress to see his uncle,” Goddard said, “but only after Scott mentioned that Kylie was actually a boy.”

  My lips rolled inward. “I see.” Problem was, I didn’t really see. Why would Madden out his nephew to someone he long suspected was discharged from the military because of gay bashing?

  I changed the subject. “Do you think your brother’s religious experience might’ve changed the way that he behaves?”

  “Scott?” he snorted. “Hell no. I’m not even sure which flavor he’s eating this week. First it was Buddhist, which I think is what he still lets his public relations minions put out there to the press, then it was some sort of shamanism thing, probably because they turned him on to drugs that aren’t illegal – yet. Last Rham told me, he was dabbling in some sort of extreme sect of Christianity. I just thank God that our mother isn’t alive to watch him spit on the Church.”

  Did I really have to ask? “Let me guess. Catholic.”

  He shot me a look that sort of screamed, is there anything else?

  “Where is my son? Can I see him, talk to him, assess the damage that my hypocrite brother has inflicted this time?”

  “Unfortunately, Dr. Goddard, I’m afraid that won’t be possible.”

  “What? Why not?”

  “Your son Kyle was found murdered on New Year’s Eve. His best friend was killed a couple of nights later. We believe the deaths are related.”

  “No!” he rasped. “Why… why did you talk to me about my son and make me think everything was all right? You… you cold hearted…”

  The door swung open and Marion Goddard burst into the room. “This is all your fault!” she screamed. “Scott was right! We should’ve never let him leave the house dressed like a girl!”

  Johnny was right behind her. One red handprint blossomed on his left cheek. Mrs. Goddard must’ve taken him by surprise.

  “Where is he?” Goddard ignored his hysterical wife and in the process, clearly defined dysfunctional family. “Tell me where my son is.”

  “He’s at the Bay County Medical Examiner’s Office,” I said. “You’ll be notified when they’re ready to release him for burial.”

  Goddard nodded stoically. “Come along, Marion. It’s time we go home.”

  Johnny barely waited until they crossed the threshold. “Well? Did your interview go better than mine?” He rubbed his cheek ruefully.

  My wounded emotions where he was concerned weren’t quite distracted enough to have the buddy-cop conversation just yet. Instead, I pulled out my cell phone and dialed a number committed involuntarily to memory from New Year’s Day.

  “Scott?”

  He answered after one ring.

  “Helen Eriksson here. I’d like to take you up on the offer for dinner. Are you free tomorrow night?”

  Johnny slammed the door behind him.

  “Sure, but from what I’m reading in the paper –”

  “Lies,” I said. “You know how the media can be. From where I’m sitting, you’ve got the right idea.”

  “Do I?” Amusement spiked in his voice. “How is that, Helen?”

  “You’ve got publicists. The police have press officers. You wouldn’t believe the incompetence in that department.”

  He chuckled softly. “So that lovely picture on the front page of the Sentinel… Photoshop?”

  I laughed. “I never said I was a prude. It just didn’t mean what Mrs. Conall insinuated. I’m a single woman, Scott. I see who I please, when I please.”

  Whatever levity had blossomed died just as quickly. “So you’re not coming to talk to me about Kyle? I’ve been waiting for this Orion guy to follow up on our conversation the other night all week. Or word on when the funeral will be. Rham says that Theo and Marion aren’t back in Darkwater Bay yet.”

  “Scott, even if I knew anything, I couldn’t talk to you about it. I’m very sorry. Let me distract you from the brutal reality of life for a few hours. I’d like to do something to help. Will you let me?”

  “Sure,” he said softly. “I’d like that. You’re very kind, Helen.”

  Stupid man had no idea how far off the mark he was on that one.

  “Where would you like to meet?”

  Scott breathed heavily into my ear for a moment. “I’ve got a place here in Darkwater. Nobody in my world knows about it. The place is on Hennessey Island.” He rattled off the address. “For obvious reasons, I’d rather not have a public dinner. Is that all right with you?”

  “It’s fine. I’d ask you to my place, but it’s turned into a convalescent home of late. Seven o’clock?”

  “See you then.”

  Chapter 33

  It was a tense drive back to my house in Beach Cliffs. Johnny clenched the steering wheel in a death grip, and I suspected that his teeth would be ground off to bloody nubs before we ever hit my driveway. The sweet intimacy that had shrouded us when we left home was now as absent as Darkwater’s trademark fog.

  I wasn’t about to soothe away whatever pissed him off now. I doubted it was jealousy. How could it be? He didn’t respect me anymore, probably thought I was a murderer. Well, I am, technically. It’s just so tangled up in my head anymore, I’m not sure what’s true and what’s fiction that I’ve created.

  “Marion Goddard insinuated that she believes her husband used the wrong approach with Kyle while they raised him,” he finally cut through the vicious silence with sharp words. “I’m inclined to believe she’s right.”

  I didn’t respond.

  “Goddard say anything important to you?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Helen, this isn’t the time for you to be reluctant. This is my case. I need to know everything he said to you.”

  “Fine, commander. He said many interesting things, basically confirmed that he ruled his family with an iron fist, and his wife’s opinion on how Kyle lived his life was never considered, and especially not his brother’s opinion.”

  “So Madden was telling the truth about why they had a rift?”

  “Yes.”

  “Anything else?”

  I filled him in on the substance of the conversation. My SUV was idling in the garage of my house by the time I finished the story. “In my opinion, it warrants another conversation with Scott Madden, particularly since Theo Goddard is under the impression that his brother is no longer the Zen dude his publicists want the world to believe he is.”

  “Is that why you called him for a date?”

  I opened the car door and cast a glare over my shoulder at Johnny. “What do you care either way?”

  Fingers strangled the hell out of my left bicep. “Is
this because I didn’t react to your little bombshell earlier?”

  Tears sprang to my eyes. “You didn’t want to hear it, Orion. Don’t worry. I won’t mention any of it again.” I twisted free of his grip and slid out of the car. Johnny had me pressed against the wall of the garage before I got to the door.

  “Like hell you won’t,” he snarled. “You sat there and told me you didn’t kill him, but you witnessed a murder, Helen. You destroyed evidence. You let me cloak your crime, and I’m supposed to just shrug and accept it?”

  “You could’ve let me tell you everything before you started judging me,” I wept. Why did this hurt so much? It wasn’t like I was confessing the truth anyway.

  “Then tell me now.”

  “Why? Haven’t you got enough excuses to walk away yet?”

  Johnny sucked in a deep breath. “Tell me because I love you, and I need to understand why you would protect whoever killed your ex-husband.”

  Our eyes met. “Johnny…”

  “I love you,” he said it again. “It doesn’t mean I understand how you could –”

  No way was I throwing away an opportunity that mended the crack in my heart. I raised my hand in a gun pose behind one ear. “He killed himself.”

  Something flickered in his eyes, memory, recognition, understanding, I wasn’t sure what it was. Not until he opened his mouth and spoke.

  “You argued. Oh God, Helen. He tried to blackmail you. That was when you found out Datello was his cousin.”

  “Yes,” I whispered. That was as close to the truth as I danced in the original lie.

  “He said he should kill himself and you told him…”

  “I wished he would.”

  “And he did it.”

  “Johnny, do you remember it now?”

  He nodded. “Oh, Helen. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have…” His hands fell away from my waist. Johnny stepped away and turned his back.

  “I panicked. I figured that nobody would believe that Rick killed himself. For all intents and purposes, it looked like an assassination. Maybe that was his final dig at me, I don’t know,” I said. “I figured if nobody could find the gun, they wouldn’t get any evidence from the scene either. They’d assume that Sully Marcos had him killed, that he was afraid Rick would talk to the feds, cut a deal, something.”