“What about Barnsworth?” Andi asked.
“Definitely not a professional hit. More of an act of desperation. Could even have been a self-defense move.”
“What about the knives?” Shamus asked.
“Similar enough to be the same knife. I told Jerry to look at who had viewed the autopsy report. A description of the knife was in there. I’d prefer you not leak that item.”
Andi nodded. “Anything else?”
Frank closed the files and stood. “That should be enough to scoop Monday’s headlines.”
“Anything on the girls in the concrete?” Andi asked.
He sighed heavily. “I was hoping you wouldn’t ask that. The one from Sycamore hadn’t been buried long, so I was able to remove her body quicker. I’m still working on the one from Summit.”
Andi tilted her head and grinned. “And?”
“I’ve been asked not to release the findings yet, so this is strictly off the record. We found some DNA on the girl.”
“Was it Barnsworth or Marconi?”
He raised a bushy eyebrow and pushed his glasses up on his nose.
“Please, Frank, I’m talking to this girl. Maybe she didn’t kill Marconi and Grange, and maybe she did. We know she killed Barnsworth. If she’s killing people in self-defense, or who killed someone close to her, I can understand that. I can even sympathize with her. But if she’s just butchering men, then I need to know that.”
“You promise me it will be off the record?”
Andi nodded and took the notepad from Shamus’s hand. “Off the record until you tell me I can print it.”
“It was Marconi.”
Andi had everything she needed to reveal there were two killers, not one. She’d love to release the information on Marconi, but when she gave an off-the-record promise, she kept it. Andi stood, motioning for Shamus to follow her. “Thank you, Frank.”
“Be careful out there.”
“Always.”
She and Shamus were silent on the way back outside, where she savored the fresh air. “That place really is creepy.”
“Aye.” Shamus opened the car door for her.
“You know you don’t have to do that, right?”
“Me mum would box me ears if I didn’t. She says you treat a lady like a lady.”
Andi slid behind the wheel and waited for him to get in. “Well, thank your mum for me. I guess it’s time I finally cleaned the townhouse. We’ve done all we can do today, and I can write Monday’s post tonight. I won’t ask you to help, but…”
“Don’t get upset with me, but I might have forgotten to tell you a few things.” Shamus clipped his belt and stared out the passenger window. “Sinclair called and said he called in Joe and Randy to do a reprint of the special edition.”
Andi studied the back of his head, which was all he was allowing her to see. “Why would I get angry about that? It means the edition was a success, and hopefully Sinclair will make it a weekly thing now.”
“I sort of told me mum about your townhouse, and my brothers arrived early yesterday, so they went there this morning to clean it up.”
“Damn it, Irish, why would you do that?” She put the car into gear, backed out of the parking space, and pulled onto the main road. A hot flush crept up her neck and into her face as the memory of her bikini panties strewn across the floor seeped in. “It was my mess, and I would have cleaned it up.”
“Your landlord called the paper yesterday and left a message that he was getting complaints about the smell coming from your apartment. I told him we would have it cleaned today.”
Andi glared at the back of his head. “And you were going to tell me this when?”
“I was waiting for the right time.”
“Anything else you conveniently forgot to tell me?”
“Aye, that green van has been following us since we left the bar.”
Andi glanced in the rearview mirror. “Are you sure? There’s a lot of those around here. They cruise looking for yard work.”
“Aye, he parked down the street when we went in the morgue, and pulled in behind us when we left.”
“What do you think he wants?” Andi slammed on the brakes then smiled as the van behind her swerved into a ditch. “Maybe I’ll just ask him.” She was out of the car and walking toward the van before Shamus had time to stop her.
The driver gawked at her and took off down the ditch, his spinning wheels tossing dirt her way. In less than a minute, he was back on the highway and speeding out of sight.
Andi stomped to the car and flopped behind the wheel. “Bastard. I don’t suppose you caught the license number?”
“He didn’t have a plate. That wasn’t the smartest thing you’ve ever done. What if he had a gun?”
Still seething, she pulled the car on the road. What she’d done was stupid, and if Shamus told Palano about it, he would probably have her committed—or worse, he would put one of his own men on her tail. “I’m sorry. You’re right. It was stupid, and I won’t do it again. Let’s just forget about it, okay?” She turned and smiled at him. “No need to tell Palano.”
They drove for several minutes in silence. “Why do you think he was following us?” Andi asked.
“They want the girl, and they probably figure if they follow us, eventually we’ll lead them to her.”
“Are you sure you weren’t a cop in Ireland, Irish? Your instincts are good.” Andi pulled in behind her townhouse and parked. “Maybe we should let TK know not to go to the church, just in case they’ve been following you.”
Shamus nodded. “I’ll run something in the personals for Monday.”
Andi stared at the open door to her townhouse and the piles of garbage next to the wall. Shamus’s family had been working hard. A lump formed in her throat, and she tried to swallow it. “I do stupid things sometimes. Don’t be mad at me, Irish. I don’t know what I’d do without you right now.”
Shamus opened his door and climbed out. “We’ll talk after you meet me brothers and me mum. You may decide you want me to leave.”
A huge man with curly red hair stuck his head out the door and waved at them.
“Jeez, Irish, you really are the wee one.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“Where do you want me to put him?”
Cherese smiled at her benefactor. “Just sit him in the chair. I plan on waking him soon.”
“He sure is out of it. A pretty woman like you shouldn’t have to put up with the likes of that.”
She shrugged. “What’s a girl to do? He’s my brother, and my mom insisted that I take care of him. I’ll just strap him in until we get back.” She batted her eyes at him playfully and held up a rope. “Unless you’re in a hurry, I’d like to buy you a drink to show my appreciation.”
“No place else I’d rather be.” He took the rope from her hands. “Let me help you.” He finished tying Stuart’s hands and legs to the chair then stood. “My apartment isn’t too far from here. We could go there.”
“What did you say your name is?”
“Tom Jennings.”
“Well, Tom Jennings, why don’t you bring your car around? I’ll grab a few things and be right with you.” Cherese giggled as she watched him take the steps two at a time then listened to the door above them close. What a complete imbecile. It hadn’t crossed his mind to question why she was bringing her brother to an abandoned house and putting him in the basement. Nor had he thought about the fact that if she really wanted to screw him, there were plenty of empty rooms upstairs. Spending almost the entire day with Gambini, waiting for it to grow dark and for the right guy to help her to come along, had tried her patience. Her face was sore from all the fake smiles and laughter. She checked to ensure the ropes were tight then ran a hand down the side of Gambini’s face and whispered, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll be back to play with you soon. I need to go play with poor Tom at the moment. What do you think, knife or gun?”
Stuart stirred.
“We
ll, that makes it easy. I certainly don’t want to keep you waiting once you wake up.” She grabbed the bag she kept in the corner just for times like this, retrieved her duct tape, tore off a piece, and covered his mouth. The odds of anyone hearing him were close to zero, but she didn’t like taking unnecessary risks. The upstairs door opened, and she picked up her bag and hurried to the steps. “I’m coming, sweetie. Do you like to use handcuffs?”
“Never done that before, but yeah, I like that idea.”
Cherese joined him at the top of the steps, averting her eyes from his crooked and stained teeth when he smiled. She shuddered when she thought of the condition his apartment was probably in. His hair was grainy, with tiny flakes of dandruff sticking to the oily surface. If he really wanted a woman, any woman, he should start with some personal hygiene. “How far did you say your apartment is?”
He opened the door of a beat-up, fifteen-year-old Ford truck and raked the food wrappers and beer cans from her seat. “Not too far, honey. We’ll be there in less than thirty minutes.”
Cherese climbed in the truck, her mind running through her options. She didn’t want to kill him too close to her hideout, nor did she want to spend an excessive amount of time in his company. She had far more fun things to do with Stuart. The sign for the park caught her eye. “It’s a warm night. If we had a blanket we could go to the park and cure my urges.” She unbuttoned her top button and fanned herself. “I’m really hot right now.”
Tom did a quick U-turn in the middle of the street and gunned the motor. “I’ll take the ground and you can get on top. I’m about to bust a gut here myself.”
Cherese laughed softly and squeezed his thigh. “That’s just what I had in mind.”
Tom sped through the entrance to the park, spotted a line of trees hidden from the highway, and pulled in beside them. He was out of the truck and already unbuttoning his shirt before Cherese had time to open her door. Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she exited and walked toward the trees. “Hurry up, sweetheart, I’ve got a wonderful surprise for you.”
“I’ve got one for you too, honey.” He rushed up behind her and pulled her against him. “Before I’m done, I’ll make your toes curl. Been studying some new tricks.”
Cherese broke the embrace and walked quickly through the trees to a grassy spot. “This looks perfect. I’ll wait until you undress. I always like to see what I’m getting, and if I like it, I’ll give you a little something extra.” She swayed her hips back and forth, pretending to do a striptease as he almost tripped in his hurry to get rid of his pants.
Once he’d completely undressed and stretched out on the ground, Cherese walked around him, studying his naked body. She didn’t have to kill him. He probably wouldn’t recognize her tomorrow. But if Stuart’s body were found after she finished with him, Jennings might actually be able to describe her well enough for someone to make a connection or lead them to the house. It was another occupational hazard of staying in one place too long. People began to notice and remember small details.
“Close your eyes, and don’t peek.” She waited until his eyes squeezed shut and pulled the gun from the bag on her shoulder. Kneeling beside him, she chuckled as he quivered in anticipation. “Sorry, Tom. You’re just not up to my standards.”
~ ~ ~
Tracy stared at the knife. She’d spent the entire day in the motel room, her emotions traveling from depressed to furious and to depressed again. There was only one man left who she could recognize. Then there was whoever was behind the screen. She needed to be out there on the streets, looking for them before they found her. The problem was that her rage was gone, leaving nothing behind but an empty hole of loneliness and regret. She didn’t want to kill anyone else. She’d never wanted to kill anyone to begin with. Barnsworth had been self-defense. He’d been ordered to kill her, once he was finished with her. She wasn’t sure she could have killed Marconi if the blonde hadn’t shown up. Mollie and Erin were headed home, and there was no one left for her to protect. Except they won’t stop looking for Mollie and Erin. And they won’t stop looking for me.
With a heavy sigh, she slipped her feet into the boots she’d purchased the day before and picked up her purse, making sure to place the knife where she could reach it easily. The real problem was that she didn’t know the name of the other one. She knew his face, but the odds of running into him the way she had Marconi was a pipe dream. She’d never get that lucky.
Tracy glanced at the calendar on the wall. The next day was Sunday. Seeing Father Brennan, talking with him, and his offer of help had hurt her deeply. She hadn’t realized until then just how much she missed church. She’d always gone to mass with Mom on Sunday. She didn’t understand everything they did, or why, but she’d enjoyed it. A tune ran through her mind, her mother’s voice singing the Gloria. Sometimes, they’d simply recited the words, but Tracy liked it better when they sang. Her mother’s voice had been soft and sweet, but most of all it had been reverent and loving.
Father Brennan had offered her sanctuary, but he didn’t know what she’d done or that there was blood on her hands. Since Andi had posted the story, he would probably call the police if she showed up again.
Tracy dropped her purse and knelt beside the bed. She hadn’t prayed since her mother’s death. She wasn’t even sure she knew how. Closing her eyes, she struggled to remember the words until her mother’s voice filled her mind and she began to sing. Glory to God in the highest. And on earth peace to men of good will. We praise You. We bless You. We adore you.
I miss you, Mommy. The tears came in waves of grief before she finally drifted off.
Tracy woke several hours later, her body curled in a tight ball, cramped and sore. She’d held in the grief for her mother, afraid when the tears started they would never stop. She’d even contemplated suicide until she met Mollie. The two of them had quickly become friends, sharing their stories. Like her, Mollie had grown up in a loving family—they’d talked all about it. She’d been adored by her father and cared for by her stepmother. Like Tracy, Mollie couldn’t handle the grief of her father’s death or the pain in her stepmother’s eyes. She’d run from the memories, and as time passed, shame and guilt had kept her from picking up the phone and making the call that would have taken her home. Once she’d met Tracy and the others, though, she said she was going to make that call and take Tracy with her as soon as they found a safe place for the other girls.
If only we’d never gone to that warehouse.
Stretching out her legs, she groaned then stood up. Mom used to say what was done was done, and we simply had to buck up and move on, making sure we didn’t make the same mistakes again. She couldn’t go to the police, because she knew they were involved. She’d contacted Andi to tell their story and to provide the evidence to put away the men who had killed the others and who would eventually kill her. That was what she needed to concentrate on.
The clock struck 4 a.m. It was Sunday. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she pulled out the notebook and flipped through the pages. All she needed was the name of the other one, and her story was complete. She wouldn’t have to kill him if she exposed him. She turned to a blank page and grabbed her pen. A banker, rich construction worker, and two police officers. All men of importance. The other guy probably was too. She would spend Monday in the library going through old newspapers and city books, looking for pictures of him, but she needed one normal day around normal people. She was pretty sure Father Brennan wouldn’t recognize her, given the change to her hair and her new makeup. She was going to mass.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Jerry watched the removal of the third block of concrete. Unless the ME called in some extra help—which, knowing Frank Devers, he doubted would happen—it would take days, if not weeks, to remove the bodies and recover any usable evidence, if any existed. He turned as Cooper walked in and nodded toward the door. Jerry groaned. All he’d really wanted was to go home, take a shower, and fall into bed for the next twenty-four hours.<
br />
“What’s up, Cooper?”
“A couple of kids sneaking into the park stumbled over a body, sir. I thought you’d want to know.”
“Connected to this case?”
Cooper shook his head. “I don’t think so, sir. Guy was totally nude, with a bullet to the head.”
Crime had risen drastically in the last six months, but most of that was home invasions and theft. Until that week, there had only been one other murder, and now he was looking at nine homicides and one suicide. If the girl was telling the truth, there were seven more out there.
“Who’s on the scene?”
“Officer Gene Craig secured the scene. The ME is on his way, and I’m heading over there now.”
“Take care of it, and keep me informed.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jerry turned as the block of concrete was lowered to the floor. There really wasn’t anything else he could do, and without sleep he would be useless to anyone in another few hours. Worse, he would starting making mistakes. “I’m headed home, guys.”
“See you tomorrow.”
“Let’s hope not.” Jerry waved a hand and exited the semi-finished office building. The sun was rising as he made his way through the empty lot, and he stopped for a moment as the peace, quiet, and beauty of the early morning washed away some of the tension from the past twelve hours. Maybe that was why Andi had decided to stay here and chose to face her demons, instead of running away like I did. The sight of her had ripped open old wounds and memories of the scars she artfully hid, as had the minor limp that only those who knew to watch would ever see. Jerry shook his head, clearing the memories, and climbed behind the wheel of his car. She was in danger again. He felt it in every fiber of his being, but she was too stubborn to listen to reason. He needed a break in the case, and the only way to get that was to find the girl. They had to be exchanging the notes somewhere. If he kept an eye on Shamus, he could probably find out where.
The 13th Victim: Andi Carter Mysteries Book 1 Page 12
