Beautiful Maids All in a Row

by Jennifer Harlow

  She looked at me, fear and shame written all over. “I love him,” she said, her voice breaking.

  “He. Doesn’t. Deserve it,” I said, drawing out every word. “If you don’t help us stop him, he will kill another woman. Another child will be motherless. Do you really want that?” She weakly shook her head no. “Then talk to me.”

  “He scares me sometimes,” she said. “He was so sweet when we first met. He sent me flowers every day with little love poems in them. He listened to me. No man had ever done that before. But when I moved in, he…changed. He made me give up my friends, my job. I mean if I even tried to see a movie with my cousin he’d go crazy and say I didn’t love him. What could I do?” She wiped a tear from her face. “I haven’t spoken to my mother in over a year. He said he was all I needed, and I believed him.”

  “Has he ever hurt you or made you do anything you didn’t want to do?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered in a distant voice. “Sometimes we’d go to these clubs—bondage clubs—and he’d arrange it so I’d…have sex with a strange man while he watched. I told him I really didn’t want to, but he’d insist and say if I really loved him I’d do it.” Her eyes grew wide. “I didn’t want to, I really didn’t,” she said desperately, “but I wanted to make him happy.”

  “Has he ever raped you?” I asked delicately.

  “He…” She bit her lip, but then the tears returned. “He likes to tie me up and strangle me,” she sobbed. “Oh, God.”

  She hung her head and sobbed into her hands. She almost looked like she’d gone into some sort of fit. I just watched as the years of torture poured out. Poor girl, all the potential in the world and that was what she’d been reduced to. A sex toy for a psychopath. After a minute, the sobs lessened enough that she could breathe again. “Am I going to jail?” she asked through the sobs.

  “If you tell us everything you know and agree to testify against him in court, I’m sure the prosecutor will be very lenient on you. You’re as much his victim as they are.”

  She mulled this over for a moment. “Those nights…he wasn’t home with me. I didn’t know where he was, but he said if anyone asked, I was supposed to say he was at home with me or at the cabin.”

  “The two weeks you said you were at the cabin, was he there?”

  “No. It was just Henry and me. Jeremy said he wanted me to go up with Henry so I could relax while he worked on a secret project, and if anyone asked he was there with us.”

  “Have you seen a scalpel, ropes, or a gun anywhere?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head.

  “The hearts?”

  “God no.”

  I sighed. “You’re going to need to come to our office and make an official statement.”

  “He’ll be home any minute now,” she whispered. “If he knows I said anything…”

  “Then you need to go into your bedroom, grab a suitcase, and come with us. We can put you up in a hotel room with a guard. He won’t be able to touch you.”

  “This is my home,” she said.

  “This is your prison,” I said. “Please come with us. You shouldn’t stay another minute in this place.”

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay,” she finally whispered. I clasped her hand, helping her to her feet. She scurried out of the kitchen and I headed back to the living room, turning off my tape recorder. A taped confession. I was the master.

  As I was collecting the photos from the table, Luke walked back in. I was sure he’d spent the last few minutes looking around for evidence in plain sight since the occupant had invited us in. “I heard her packing. Guess it worked.”

  “Yeah, she cracked on the alibi. He wasn’t with her—surprise, surprise.”

  “Will she testify?”

  “I don’t know. He has her totally under his control, almost to the point of brainwashing. At least now, we have enough for search warrants. I just hope—”

  Without warning, the front door swung open and a confused Shepherd stood at the doorway with Mooney behind him, both looking mad as hell. “What is going on here?” Shepherd shouted. “What are you doing in my home?”

  “Do you have a warrant?” Mooney asked.

  “We were just questioning Ms. Hall, Dr. Shepherd,” Luke said.

  “In my home?”

  “We offered to take her to our office, but she declined,” I said with a wide grin.

  His mouth turned down into a frown. “I want you out of here. I have been more than cooperative with you, but I will not stand by as you harass us anymore. I’m calling my lawyer.” He stepped into the apartment and over to the phone.

  “You call him,” Luke said, “and tell him to meet you at our office. We have quite a few questions for you. And you, too, Mr. Mooney.”

  Mooney didn’t say a word. He stared at us with utter hatred.

  “Your girlfriend turned on you,” I said with satisfaction. “She told us what a perverted freak you are. Oh, and she recants your alibis. All of them.”

  Shepherd’s eyes grew wide from the news. “Diana!” he shouted. Immediately, Diana ran down the hall, stopping a few feet away from him, petrified to get any closer. “Diana, what did you tell them?” he asked in a calm tone.

  She began to shake all over. “I…I…” she stuttered.

  Luke stepped between them, obscuring Shepherd from Diana’s view. “Ms. Hall is coming with us,” Luke said firmly.

  Shepherd moved to the left so he could see Diana again. “Diana, is this true?” he asked, each word getting firmer than the one before. His menacing eyes burned into hers. I tried to think of something to do to stop this but drew a blank, since shooting him was sadly out of the question. Diana gulped and looked around the room for salvation. I was about to open my mouth, but Shepherd beat me to it. “Diana?” Shepherd demanded again.

  “I’m…I’m going to stay here,” she whispered, her voice hollow.

  “What?” I shouted. “Diana, you aren’t his slave! You don’t have to stay here. We can protect you.”

  Shepherd walked past an enraged Luke to Diana, placing his hand on her back. She almost jumped out of her skin at his touch. “We want you out of our home. Leave before I call the police.”

  Luke stepped toward the unhappy couple. “Ms. Hall, are you sure about this?”

  “She’s sure,” Shepherd answered.

  “She can talk!” I snapped. “Diana, please…”

  She looked down at the carpet. “I’m staying here.”

  “Dr. Shepherd, we’re still going to need you to come to our office to answer more questions,” Luke told him. “All of you.”

  “Tomorrow. We have dinner plans tonight,” he said. “I’m receiving the Humanitarian of the Year award tonight. My lawyer and I can be there at ten tomorrow morning. Is that sufficient?”

  “No,” I croaked.

  His gaze snapped over to me. “Then arrest me,” he countered. “Otherwise I’ll be there at ten.”

  “All of you,” Luke said.

  “We’ll be there,” Mooney said.

  Luke sighed. There wasn’t a lot we could do, which really pissed me off. Luke walked to the door and opened it, stepping out into the reception area. I glared at Shepherd once more before turning to Diana. “If you need anything, you call me,” I said, handing her a slip of paper with my number on it.

  Shepherd snatched it from my hand. “That’s very kind of you, Dr. Ballard, but she’ll be fine,” Shepherd assured me. Prick. I slowly walked toward the door, making a point not to look at Mooney, who continued to glare as I passed. The feeling was more than mutual.

  “See you tomorrow,” Shepherd called to me, “Iris.” I spun around and stared at him with utter contempt. He grinned at me with that all-knowing gleam in his eye. It felt like someone had poured ice water down my spine. “Pleasant dreams.”

  Rolling my eyes, I quickly turned and walked out of that apartment, shutting the door quietly behind myself. “Did you hear that?” I asked Luke. “D
id you hear what that ass said to me?”

  “He’s just trying to get to you.”

  “That motherfucker,” I said under my breath, pushing the elevator button over and over again. “I should have told her to forget the packing and just got her out of there right then. She’s going to come in tomorrow and recant. Shit!”

  The elevator door opened. “We have everything on tape,” Luke pointed out.

  “Cyrus Beaton will have it thrown out in a New York minute.”

  “You got her to crack once; you can do it again.”

  “We’re not going to get anywhere near her from now on. He’ll have her locked up in that prison, doing God knows what to her, until the trial. If it even gets to trial!”

  “We still have enough for search warrants and for Agent Lamb to let us question other people. We’re bound to uncover something.”

  “I hope so,” I said with a sigh, “because if she’s all we’ve got, we’re fucked.”

  I shut the door, listening until I heard the ding of the elevator. They were gone.

  “Jeremy, I—”

  She couldn’t finish. I punched her hard in the stomach, causing her to collapse onto the floor. The bitch’s face turned red and contorted in pain. She gasped for air as I grabbed her hair and began dragging her kicking toward the bedroom. Henry stood there like a good boy, guarding the front door. Nobody ever came when she was hysterical like this, but it was good to be cautious. Especially with Iris so close. The stupid cunt knocked against my end table and the crystal vase atop it fell to the ground and smashed into pieces. Oh, she was going to suffer.

  We reached the bedroom, and I kicked the door shut. I could see the panic in her eyes underneath the tears. I lifted her by the hair, flinging her on the bed. She didn’t even try to run as I stripped off my coat and unbuttoned my shirt.

  “You let them into my home…” I tossed the shirt to the floor. “You told them about me…” I unbuckled my alligator belt. “You were going to leave with them…” I unzipped my pants. “And you say you love me.”

  “I do love you,” she whimpered.

  “Prove it.” I dropped my pants. “Scream for me.”

  Chapter 20

  Henry Mooney was going to be a very tough nut to crack. I didn’t think he’d give up Shepherd even under torture. A tempting thought, though. Shepherd had brought him back from the brink of hell, and Mooney would probably follow him there if asked. Not good, not good at all.

  Just from looking at the man—his straight posture and stony face—I could tell he was a cop. We could sniff each other out. It was the eyes. We all had that shell-shocked, weary look from having seen it all.

  His career with the NYPD was mediocre at best. No commendations or citations, just a lot of complaints and reprimands for racial profiling and excessive force. He’d tried and failed four times to make detective, and then there was the problem of an arrest for domestic abuse. The former Mrs. Mooney phoned 911 after her husband broke her nose and knocked out her teeth. He was kicked off the force a month later and received probation. The wife took the kids and moved away. Smart woman.

  After he was fired, Mooney opened a P.I. firm. In the three months it operated he didn’t solve a single case and overcharged his clients, resulting in one of them taking him to court. With no job and no wife, Mooney sunk deep into depression and cocaine addiction. Four years ago he was busted for trying to buy coke from an undercover officer. The judge ordered Mooney to go to rehab at one of Dr. Shepherd’s clinics.

  At the time Shepherd was more hands-on at his clinics, actually meeting with patients for sessions. Mooney was one said patient, and within three months he was apparently a different man, according to a friend of Mooney’s we interviewed. It seems that Shepherd was so impressed with Mooney’s progress that he gave him a job as head of security at the clinic in Queens, where Mooney worked for a year and a half. During that time Mooney married one of the nurses at the clinic. When Live in the Now hit it big, Shepherd chose Mooney to be his personal head of security, paying him close to $200,000 a year. He was with Shepherd six days a week, which explained his divorce a year ago. Mooney owed Shepherd his life, and would probably gladly give it for Shepherd. So what was a little lying about an alibi?

  There had to be some way to trip him up, catch him in a lie. He was a former cop; he’d know our tricks and techniques for interrogation. I’d need to find some other tactic.

  The telephone rang across the room as I contemplated that. I turned to the clock next to my head. One twenty-seven A.M. “About damn time,” I muttered. I picked it up on the third ring, tape recorder in hand. Too bad he didn’t call my cell. We had a wiretap set up, but the recorder would have to do. “Hello?”

  “Did you like the flowers?” a familiar voice asked on the other end.

  “Hello, Jeremy.”

  “Did you like them?” he asked again.

  “I burnt them.”

  “They cost me a lot of money, you know. Almost two hundred and fifty dollars.”

  “What a waste. Though it’s probably nothing but pocket change to you.”

  “I’ve been blessed, what can I say?”

  I rolled my eyes. “What do you want? Some of us are trying to sleep.”

  “I called to congratulate you. You found me, and sooner than I thought. I am impressed.”

  “I can’t tell you what that means to me.”

  “I should also congratulate you on making Diana betray me.”

  “She didn’t betray you,” I corrected, “you betrayed her. She loves you—God knows why—and you took advantage of that.”

  “She told you about me. She betrayed me, any way you look at it. It won’t happen again,” he assured me with a hint of anger under the surface.

  “If I find out that you’ve hurt her in any way…” I said through gritted teeth.

  “There are ways I can hurt her that leave no visible scars,” he said. I swear I could hear him smiling on the other end.

  “This conversation’s over,” I said. “Whatever you have to say to me can be said right before we arrest your ass for murder.”

  “Don’t hang up, Iris,” he commanded. “If you do, Diana will pay, and this time I won’t be as gentle.”

  “Then talk.”

  “Were you surprised to find out who I was?”

  “Not really. I saw one of your infomercials about a week ago. You seemed like a pompous ass then and you do now.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I saw that you didn’t give a damn about helping people. You just want them to worship you.”

  “You’re wrong, Iris,” he said. “I want to help others lead happy, productive lives.”

  “Tell that to the six people you killed.”

  He was silent. “I don’t want to talk about them. I want to talk about you and me.”

  “There is no ‘you and me,’ ” I said. “We are not in any way, shape, or form together. You are just a psychopath I’m putting in prison, nothing more.”

  “We both know that’s not true,” he said. “I’m more than just another criminal for you to catch. I’m your salvation, your redemption.”

  “You are my nothing,” I hissed.

  “Without me, Iris, you’d still be wandering around your empty house praying for death to come. I saved you.”

  “You’re nuts.”

  He ignored me. “How does that make you feel? It must be a mix of relief and guilt. Relief that everyone, most likely your father included, whose approval was the crux of you joining the FBI, respects you again. But also guilt that five women had to die for you to be reborn. Am I right?”

  I groaned. “Will you please can the Hannibal Lecter shit? It’s old, tired, and clichéd. You have not silenced my lambs, asshole.”

  “Haven’t I? You look better than you have in years. You have color in your cheeks again, Iris. You haven’t touched a drop of alcohol since you started, right? You’re yourself again, all because of me.”

 
“After that lovely speech, can you really not think you’re a pompous ass?” I asked with a scoff.

  “If you need to insult me so you don’t have to face the truth, go right ahead. It doesn’t hurt my feelings.”

  “Really? How about this? You’re a sadistic fuck with serious mother issues who can only get a woman by bullying or force. And it will be my great pleasure to watch as they stick a needle in your arm at the execution.”

  “Harsh, very harsh. And what was the point of that little outburst? To rile me up? Get me to rush over with a scalpel and ropes? I could come now if that’s what you want. You might actually enjoy me if you give yourself a chance.”

  “Putin has a better chance with me than you do.”

  He chuckled. “I admire your spirit. I bet it would take hours for you to break.”

  I sighed. “Look, stop the sex talk. You don’t want to rape me, and you don’t have the balls to try.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Because I scare the shit out of you.”

  “I could tie you up.”

  I scoffed. “You could try, but I’m not like they were. I trained in hand-to-hand combat. I could kill you with my bare hands. So stop the idle threats.”

  “They’re not idle,” he said.

  “Then bring it on, Jerry.”

  Silence, then, “No, you’re right. If I really wanted to hurt you, I wouldn’t lay a finger on you. No, I’d come slowly behind Agent Hudson, or perhaps your friend Carol, and just blow them away. She still works at Grafton College, no?”

  “I swear to fucking God if you touch either one of them, what your mother did to you will be a field day compared to what I’ll do.”

  “I am just making a point. I know where you’re vulnerable, and you know where I am. It evens the odds.”

  “You don’t scare me.”

  “Of course I do, as I should. You know I have the means and resources to get to them or you. Working with the indigent and criminal element has given me many connections. I could do it, and it would never be traced back to me. But we’d both know, wouldn’t we?”