by C. M. Sutter
He grabbed his coat and the information he’d gathered from the websites earlier, then he walked out through the garage. He had to contact somebody that day.
Chapter 37
J.T. and I headed to the police station. If we were lucky, we each might have gotten four hours of sleep at most last night. I always told myself I’d sleep between cases. Lately, that wasn’t working out so well.
The cup holder held J.T.’s coffee as he drove the usual twenty-minute route from our hotel to the downtown precinct. I cradled my cup between my hands. The warmth felt good.
A powwow was scheduled for eight thirty with Sullivan, Fitch, Andrews, and the four officers who were helping the detectives in the investigation. Everyone was bringing the information they had gathered to the table. Hopefully, a profile of our killer would be delivered to the press later that day.
We entered the police station at eight fifteen and went directly to the conference room. A whiteboard had been set up at the far end of the table. Sullivan sat there with a half dozen sheets of paper spread out in front of him. Fitch had already taken a seat two down on Sullivan’s left. We nodded our good mornings as we entered then waited for the rest of the group to arrive.
Stone walked in and closed the door behind him, and Sullivan began. “Okay, everyone, I want updates on everything we know so far, even if we’ve discussed it before. This assailant needs to be apprehended by the week’s end.”
“Sir,” Fitch said, “today is Thursday.”
“You’re damn right it is, so let’s get moving. I want to know what all of you have found, and then we’ll see if we’ve missed something and left a gaping hole that should be filled in.” He turned to Stone and Mills. “What have you got?”
Officer Stone began from earlier that week with the search for Heather Francis’s car. “Nothing ever popped with that, boss, even though her death was the most recent. Her car was never seen in Indiana, Illinois, or Michigan, at least as far as tollbooth cameras or plate readers. No law enforcement or private tow company has her vehicle.”
Mills added, “As far as monitoring the incoming tips, the only one that panned out was the clothing tip on Molly that came in from Erin McNare. That led Agents Monroe and Harper to Molly’s boss and finally to Mitchell Carter, a tip that fizzled out. His employer and wife corroborated his whereabouts on Monday, and the description of the man seen with Molly doesn’t fit Mitchell.”
Stone added, “Then I took the call from Bethany’s mom, and Clark here”—he pointed at Officer Mills—“took the call from Kristen’s mom. That’s where we’re at right now.”
After Sullivan finished jotting notes on the whiteboard with a green dry-erase marker, he turned his focus to Jeffries and Christopher. He jerked his chin at Jeffries. “You’re up.”
“Yes, sir.” He glanced at Officer Christopher and spoke for both of them. “We’ve been conducting extensive interviews with neighbors, friends, and acquaintances around the college Taylor went to and all of the places the young ladies frequented. We’ve gone through their social media sites with the tech department and re-interviewed best friends and the parents. We’ve also looked for connections between the girls, such as hobbies and clubs they might have had in common. Nothing popped. The only girls that knew each other were Kristen and Bethany, the latest abductees.”
Sullivan groaned and took a sip of the coffee that had been sitting on the table since we arrived a half hour earlier. “Fitch and Andrews, what have you got?”
Mel spoke up. “I did the initial phone interview with Erin McNare then gave that to Agents Monroe and Harper to follow up on. We went back to Marquette Park, where Heather was found, and to the running trails where Molly Davis went missing. Between six officers and ourselves, we didn’t find any additional evidence or clues. There aren’t any good leads coming in, sir. We’ve gone through all of them, and they’re dead ends.”
Sullivan placed a check mark on the whiteboard next to every lead that had been checked numerous times, then he turned to us.
I began by saying the only common link in the abductions of Molly, Kristin, and Bethany was a vague description of the possible assailant. J.T. and I weren’t in Indiana to assist in the abductions and murders of Corrine and Taylor. As far as we knew, no leads had surfaced and no eyewitnesses had come forward in their cases.
“The common thread we’ve discovered is a blond-haired, medium-built man, average height and probably in his twenties. He was with Molly and was possibly sighted with Kristen and Bethany. The same man was described running through a backyard on the night the latest girls went missing. He would have been coming from the location where Kristen’s car was abandoned. We’ve been told blood was found in Bethany’s car, but it’s still being analyzed. We’re comparing it to Bethany and Kristen’s DNA. As of right now, Molly Davis, Kristen Henry, and Bethany Kelly are missing and possibly injured or worse.”
J.T. took over. “What we need to do is focus on any man these young ladies might have known who fits the description we just put out there. It’s the only common thread that we know of. The girls might not have known each other, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t know the assailant. Has anyone heard interesting chatter on Alex Everly’s phone line yet?”
Andrews spoke up. “Charlie in tech said no phone calls have come in from anyone wanting to sell blood.”
“Did Alex mention on his vampire rave sites that he was in the market to buy blood, like he agreed?” I asked.
“Excuse me, I’ll find out.” Andrews stepped out of the conference room with his phone in hand and returned a minute later. “Charlie is checking out the websites. He’s going to call me right back.”
Sullivan’s phone rang while we waited. “Yes, are you sure? Okay, thanks, Bob.” He clicked off the call and rolled his neck. He let out a long frustrated sigh.
“You look like you’re about to give us bad news,” I said.
“The blood came back positive for belonging to Kristen Henry.”
J.T. whistled. “Wow, that isn’t what I was expecting. We have to guess how that played out.”
I raked my fingers through my hair and tried to figure out why Bethany’s car was found blocks away from Paul’s Tap with Kristen’s blood on the passenger door. Since each girl drove herself to the bar, I could think of no reason Kristen would have been at the door of Bethany’s car, as if she was going to get in.
I voiced my thoughts while images filled my mind. “The forensics guys said the blood was on the doorframe, correct?”
Sullivan nodded.
“Then that sounds like the door was open, but why? Kristen and Bethany would have parted ways at whoever’s car was the closest to the bar’s exit.”
“Okay, I’ll play devil’s advocate,” J.T. said.
Andrews’s phone rang just as J.T. started to speak. “Sorry, but it’s Charlie calling back.” Andrews hit Talk and answered. “Larry here. What did you find out? I’m putting you on speakerphone. We’re all in the conference room.”
“I went through all the sites frequented by Alex, or Massimo, as he likes to be called. I even hit the dark web just in case he’s trying to hide something from us. There’s no mention anywhere of him hinting around about being interested in buying human blood.”
“That was our agreement with him—do it or be locked up. I guarantee we could dig up something on him that would stick,” I snarled. Alex Everly had wasted precious time we didn’t have.
Sullivan slapped the table so hard that I grimaced. I could almost feel the sting. He told Andrews, “Get someone out to Alex’s house and pick him up. I want a face-to-face with that punk.”
“I’m on it, boss.” Andrews pushed back his chair and left the conference room.
Sullivan was fuming, and his face glowed red. He poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher centered on the table. “Okay, where were we?”
J.T. spoke up. “We were trying to figure out how Kristen’s blood ended up on the passenger side doorframe of Beth
any’s car. There wasn’t blood evidence in Kristen’s car, so we know she didn’t return to it after she was injured.”
“Yet both cars were moved to different areas, and both girls are missing,” Mel added.
“What about that accomplice theory?” I said. “What are the chances that one guy could subdue both girls, move both cars at some point, and take the girls away without being noticed?”
Sullivan loudly swallowed some water. “The chances are slim but possibly doable. You said that bartender saw the girls leave, but only one guy walked out next to them.”
I doodled on my notepad as I thought. “True, and maybe they were impaired. Tuesday was ladies’ night—two-for-one drinks the entire time the girls were there.”
Mills added his take. “Okay, how about this scenario? The drunk girls walk out with the friendly stranger. He escorts them to Bethany’s car. Maybe hers was the closest to the bar, who knows? Anyway, Bethany gets in behind the wheel, and Kristen is too drunk to drive herself home, so she’s going to catch a ride with Bethany. She’s standing at the passenger door with Mr. Kidnapper, and he whacks her in the head and tosses her inside.”
I frowned. “Then what? Bethany doesn’t scream for help or try to run? She calmly gets out, climbs into the backseat, and lets him drive the car several blocks away? He’d still have to move Kristen’s car and transport both girls in something else without anyone noticing. That theory doesn’t work.”
Stone piped in. “I think our guy drugged both of them and took them somewhere in Bethany’s car. Think about it. Kristen got there much later than Bethany, meaning she was likely less impaired from alcohol and maybe more combative. That’s why she got slammed against the car.”
I nodded. “I think you’re onto something, Stone. Keep going.”
“Okay, so he whacks Kristen and throws her in the car. If he did drug them and Bethany had enough alcohol in her already, she was useless to fight back. He drove them somewhere, dumped them off, and came back to move the cars. That’s why Mr. Simmons saw the assailant running through his backyard.”
“Bingo.” I reached out and fist-bumped Stone. “I think that’s exactly how it went down. The kidnapper obviously had his own vehicle there too. He blitz attacked Kristen, tossed her in Bethany’s car, and took them somewhere. Then he drove Bethany’s car back, dropped it off, ran back, and moved Kristen’s car too. When that was all said and done, he leisurely took his own vehicle home.”
Sullivan leaned back in his chair and exhaled a deep, pent-up breath. He stared at the ceiling tiles. “At least if we run with that scenario, we could eliminate the accomplice theory. I like it, but it isn’t helping us solve the case, only the mystery of how the cars were moved.”
Andrews returned a few minutes later. “Alex Everly is here. Officer Putnam has him sitting in interrogation room number two. There was a situation, though.”
Sullivan stood. “I don’t like situations. Care to explain?”
“Alex saw Putnam and Reynolds approaching in the squad car and made a run for it. Putnam said Alex was just climbing into his own car when they rolled up. He jumped in and gunned it down the street.”
“That sounds like a man with a guilty conscience if I ever heard of one,” I said. “I wonder why he felt the need to run.”
Sullivan’s face turned a deeper shade of red with every play-by-play detail. “Then what?”
“Then they pursued with lights and sirens engaged. Apparently Alex went over several curbs, sped through red lights, and finally smashed into the side of a guard rail right after taking out another vehicle.”
“Son of a bitch. Was anyone hurt?”
“No, sir, but there’s quite a mess out at the intersection of Fayette and Stevenson Roads. We have several patrol units out there cleaning up, and the tow truck was on its way when Putnam and Reynolds left. Alex is cuffed and waiting. He isn’t a happy camper, sir.”
“Neither am I, and I think it’s time to have a word with Elvira.” Sullivan tossed his notes and pen in the desk drawer and slammed it closed. He waved us toward the door. “That’s it for now, everyone. Keep doing what you’re doing, and let’s reconvene later today to complete the profile. I’ll schedule a press conference for tomorrow.”
“Sir?”
Sullivan turned just before he exited the room. “Yep?”
“I’d like to join you. Actually we both would. Alex needs to know this is his one and only chance, if releasing him is even on the table. You can always hold him on obstructing justice, fleeing, erratic driving, and endangering the life of a motorist if he doesn’t update those websites today. He’ll be sitting for a while, and he can stew all he wants behind bars.”
Sullivan jerked his chin toward the door. “Let’s go, then.”
Chapter 38
We took the elevator down to the first floor, where the city jail was located. That time, Alex sat in box two. I was too pissed off to bother watching him through the one-way glass. J.T. and I stormed into the interrogation room right behind Captain Sullivan.
Alex raised his head from the table and groaned when he saw us. “Not the head pig and the wannabe cops again.”
I grinned when I saw the cuts across his nose and the swollen lower lip. “Eat a steering wheel lately?” I leaned over his shoulder and talked into his ear. “We missed you, Massimo.” I puckered a big kiss and smacked it next to his cheek.
He pulled back angrily. “Get the hell away from me, bitch.”
“That’s Ms. FBI Bitch to you. Get it right, punk.”
Sullivan took a seat across from Alex. “Looks like we have a breach of contract here, Alex. You didn’t live up to your end of the bargain.”
“Yeah, what bargain was that?”
“Don’t act coy. It doesn’t become you.” J.T. rubbed his chin. “Actually, nothing becomes you with that greasy, stringy hair. Take a shower, man. Anyway, you reneged on advertising that you were in the market to buy human blood. You know, on your vampire websites, or rave sites, whatever you call that foolishness.”
Alex snarled. “That’s why your asshole cops chased me down the street? My lifestyle isn’t any of your business, and it isn’t foolish.”
J.T. looked at me, I looked at Sullivan, and we all laughed.
“What would you call a grown man who likes to wear fangs, has a god-awful hairstyle, only wears black, and drinks human blood? I’d call him foolish, or better yet, a horse’s ass. I mean at some point in life, don’t you want to grow up and act like a real man, or is that too tough for you, Massimo?” I wanted to get his goat, and I was succeeding. I saw the veins pop bright blue along his temples. “Am I making you mad, Elvira?” Alex jerked his head forward and tried to head-butt me but missed. I laughed. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. An attempted assault on a federal agent is a one-year prison stint. We can even throw in a thousand-dollar fine as a chaser. You’re lucky your aim sucks because that would have been an automatic eight-year stay in the house of corrections. We can haul your horse’s ass away now or you can cooperate. You have thirty seconds to decide or it’s off the table. If you think I’m joking, go ahead and try me.”
Alex pounded the table with his fist. “Nobody can know I’m working with you.”
J.T. piped in. “You don’t call the shots, we do.” He glanced at the clock above the door. “You have fifteen seconds left.”
“Fine! What do you want?”
Sullivan pushed back his chair. “I’ll be right back. Hey, Alex, why don’t you entertain the agents with some knock-knock jokes until I return?”
“Go f—”
I leaned across the table. “Excuse me?”
Alex placed his head on his arms and turned away without saying another word.
While we waited for Sullivan to come back, I texted Amber. At that time of day she was at work, likely running radar, but sitting in a patrol car still afforded her time to read a text. I let her know we hadn’t made the progress we had hoped for and said I’d try to call her late
r and catch up. I hit Send and tucked the phone back into my pocket.
J.T. stepped out momentarily and said he would update Spelling on the case.
Five minutes later, the door opened. J.T. walked through first. Sullivan followed, and Charlie from the tech department, who had a laptop tucked under his arm, came in last.
Alex huffed when he looked up. “What—now the whole gang is joining in?”
Sullivan dragged a chair across the floor and placed it at the table, just inches from Alex. “You try anything funny and I promise you won’t see the light of day for years. You’re going to tell Charlie every website that you frequent as Massimo or Alex Everly, whether it’s on the World Wide Web or dark web. You’re going to advertise on every one of those sites that you’re looking to purchase human blood and if anyone has some to sell, they should PM you. Charlie will set up the private messaging link that will come directly into the police department. That way you can’t intercept the messages and delete them. Everything you do and say will be monitored, so don’t try anything cute. If we see you’re violating the agreement, you’ll be in lockup for a minimum of a year. No more chances.”
“How long do I need to do this shit?”
“As long as it takes. Go ahead, Charlie. Set it up and buzz us when you’re done. Officer Putnam will sit in here with you.” Sullivan cocked his head at Alex. “You’ll recognize him, right? He’s one of the cops that chased you down earlier. Just an FYI, Alex, Putnam wears a Glock 22 and he’s a crack shot, so don’t piss him off.”
