I did pick up a few clues on the rocky slope of the ridge. The killer has big feet. Tammy even got a photograph of a boot print in the soil. And he had a peculiar smell. Nothing I’ve ever come across before. Pungent but in an interesting way. A little sweet. And when he body-slammed Tammy, she may have ripped his jacket. I thought I heard something tear. Not much, but better than nothing.
Now I must comfort my princess. She’s upset and Deputy Aiden Waters is pulling in beside the tow truck. I’ve seen the way she casts glances at him. I’m sure she’d rather he offer her comfort, but she’s stuck with me. For the moment at least. Aiden and Tammy are perfect for each other, though they’re too scared to see it. She’s been hurt before by her own hand. She moved to D.C. with her fiancé but missed Wetumpka more than she loved him. She can’t see if her affections had been given to the right man, it would have had a different outcome. Bipeds complicate everything. And Aiden has obviously suffered some loss that’s taken a toll on his spirit. Both of them are terrified of caring—and trusting—again. Humanoids! I hate to say it but if they would just throw a leg over and get on with it, I believe all things would work out.
I’m not Cupid, though. My father, Familiar, often played Cupid to the bipeds he helped. I’m not so sure I’m versed in the romance department. But you never know. Time will tell.
Uh-oh. Tammy is trying hard not to cry in front of Aiden, and he’s too embarrassed to comfort her. I guess I will intervene.
Let me just take a running jump on his arse and voila! He leaps forward and embraces her. Mission accomplished. Maybe I do have a bit of Eros in me. My dad would be so proud!
* * *
Aiden looked back at the black cat sitting so innocently on the ground. Right. Instead of saying anything, he turned his attention to the woman in his arms. He’d had to embrace Tammy to keep from knocking her down when the cat attacked him. The animal was a menace, but Tammy felt really good in his arms.
“I’m okay,” Tammy said, looking up at him.
She wasn’t wearing her glasses, and her hazel eyes shifted between gray and green with golden brown flecks. “Of course.” He started to release her and step back, but his arms simply didn’t want to let her go.
She buried her forehead against his jacket and he felt her shudder as she collected herself. “I can’t believe Debby is dead. Who would do such an awful thing?”
“The sheriff only said you’d found a dead body. Why don’t you tell me what happened?”
As Aiden held her, she told him everything. “And she’s naked with a nylon stocking tied around her neck.”
Aiden couldn’t stop his body from tightening up. “Are you sure?”
“I am.” Tammy pushed back so she could see into his eyes. “That means something to you, doesn’t it?”
He nodded. “I’m going to let Barney take you home in the wrecker. He said he’d fix the tires or replace them, depending, and bring the car to you. I need to go up to the site and determine how to collect the body without destroying any evidence.”
“Trouble and I can help you.”
Aiden gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I’d better do this on my own. But I’ll check on you as soon as I can.”
“Thank you.”
He helped her into the wrecker and watched as Barney drove her and the black cat away. Trouble looked out the back window and licked one paw, as if he’d just had a very satisfying meal. That cat had an agenda.
Aiden started the trek up the incline and followed Tammy’s directions to the letter. When he came to the turn off, he went right. It wasn’t long before he saw the scuffed marks on the ground where Tammy had crawled to the edge of the drop-off. He tried not to disturb the area as he edged to the lip of the cliff.
When he looked below, he saw the body, some twenty yards down the incline where it had been stopped by scrub brush. Tammy was correct. The woman had been strangled with a nylon, and one with seams in it. Aiden’s conclusion came hard and fast. John Wexler was in the area, just as he’d feared. A rush of adrenalin made Aiden’s pulse pound. He’d been after Wexler for too long. He’d quit his job with the FBI so he could devote himself full time to pursuing the man who’d murdered his wife.
Aiden’s boss at the FBI had called him obsessive and encouraged him to speak with a professional psychologist, but Aiden had no intention of stopping his pursuit of the man who’d strangled his beautiful and loving wife. And at least seven other victims. Those were the bodies various law enforcement agencies had found and been able to link to Wexler. But there were hundreds of young women missing each week. Any of them could have fallen victim to Wexler and their bodies simply never discovered. The Ohio press had dubbed Wexler the Silk Stocking Killer, and it looked like the name was going to stick.
Aiden ran back over Wexler’s disturbing history. He was a long time serial killer who moved into a community, took his time selecting victims. Sometimes months would pass between kills. And Wexler was careful, never disorganized in his stalking and murdering. After a few years in a location, he moved along, thereby avoiding detection.
The FBI had him on their radar, but they’d been unable to apprehend him. The man had a sixth sense about those who pursued him and his frequent change of jurisdiction made it difficult for the local law enforcement to catch onto his game. It also appeared that once he made himself a part of a community, he was hooked into official channels. In the past he’d been a veterinary technician, a physical therapist, a medical receptionist, a bar owner, and a prison guard in a regional facility.
He picked carefully, young women who were living quiet lives, often what appeared to be happy lives. They had jobs and husbands. They each had a solid life. And they would simply disappear, leading loved ones and law enforcement to wonder if they’d packed up to start anew somewhere else. The bodies were rarely found immediately—which is why the recent killings in Wetumpka made Aiden hope that he was closing in on the killer. Debby Caldwell had been found immediately because of Tammy.
There were many angles to investigate. But first the body had to be brought from the ravine.
Aiden calculated how a body recovery team could tie off to some of the stout trees and lower themselves and a stretcher down to retrieve the body and collect evidence. He traveled back down the trail where he had phone service and could call the Medical Examiner and the CSI team. Thank goodness the weather looked dry and crisp. It would make the work much easier in bringing Debby back home.
He placed the calls and leaned against the fender of his cruiser. He didn’t move when he saw Tom Wells drive up in his vintage pickup wearing a scowl.
“What’s going on?” Wells asked angrily. “You don’t have a right to be here.”
“Sorry, Tom,” Aiden said calmly. “Someone dropped a young woman over the side of the ridge up there near Rook’s Vantage. She should have disappeared down the crater, but she got hung in some scrub brush. We’re going to have to get the body out.”
“A dead girl?” Wells had actually paled. “Who?”
“Debby Caldwell.”
“The bank teller?”
If Wells was pretending shock, he was a better actor than Aiden anticipated. “That’s her.”
“You say someone pushed her off the ridge?”
“I don’t know what happened. Not yet. But I’ll find out.”
“How’d the girl get up there?”
Aiden shook his head. “I don’t know yet. Once we get the body out and get the autopsy results, I’ll be able to make some educated guesses.” He didn’t want to give a lot of detail, but he also wanted to invest Tom Wells in the outcome. Wells could make it difficult--or much easier--if he chose to.
“Get her off my land and then y’all stay away.”
“We’ll do our best not to disturb you.”
“Where’s the sheriff?”
“He’ll be heading up this investigation, I assure you. I’m just waiting here to get the body.”
“Good. Do what you need to do but
then don’t come back.”
Aiden didn’t make any promises. “I heard at the café that you have a…guest on your property.”
“Those waitresses buzz like flies on a turd.” Tom shook his head in disgust.
“Do you mind filling me in on your guest?”
“He’s a friend who likes solitude as much as I do. He’s living in the little cabin by Windy Creek.”
Aiden’s interest rose acutely, but he hid it. “Does he have a name?”
Wells shot Aiden a long, mean look. “Not that it’s any of your business, but his name is Thad. Former Ranger. He’s here for some solitude.”
“Thanks. Would you ask him if he’s seen anyone strange about the property. If he can provide any information please ask him to give me a call.”
Wells’ lips curled in a grim smile. “Is Thad your first or second suspect?”
“Maybe he’s not one at all.” Aiden tried to play it cool but knew he’d given himself away.
“I can tell you Thad Brady is a good man who’s been through hell. Leave him alone.”
“You were a Ranger, weren’t you, Tom?” Aiden had heard something to that effect.
“Yeah, about forty years ago. Too young for Vietnam and too old for the Gulf War. Thad Brady wasn’t so lucky. He did two tours in Iraq.”
“Do you think your guest would mind speaking with me?”
“If he wants to talk, he’ll show up at the sheriff’s office. If he doesn’t, my advice is to leave him alone.” Tom got in his truck and gunned the motor. “And stay off my land.”
Aiden tipped his patrol hat and let it go with a smile. Tom Wells was a crotchety old man, but he couldn’t stand in the way of an investigation. Maybe the sheriff would be able to finesse him into cooperating. Rob had a way with the locals that Aiden didn’t.
The ME and an ambulance pulled in and Aiden got busy showing them up the mountain. For the next several hours, he worked with them tying ropes and helping to pull the body up.
When he looked at his watch, he remembered he’d promised to help Frasier McNaughton with road blockades and his building project. He sent a quick text explaining his situation and then returned to the job at hand. It was lunchtime before he was ready to go back to town. He’d stop and interview Tammy again, see if maybe she’d want a bite to eat.
* * *
Trouble sat in the front window of the bookstore, watching the street like he expected the grim reaper to saunter into the store. Tammy pushed that thought out of her head. Cats didn’t spend time worrying about death. They lived in the moment. It was one of their endearing qualities. Still, she went to the window and stroked Trouble’s sleek fur. He’d stayed right with her while she was unconscious, and she had no doubt he would have done his best to protect her if the killer had returned.
And he had found the body.
He had a lot of his father, Familiar, in him. Eleanor had warned her that the entire litter of Familiar’s kittens were precocious. Tammy had picked Trouble for her pet because he looked so much like his dad. Now he was displaying those unique sleuthing skills. She was being as fanciful as some of the fictional characters she loved reading about.
“Tammy, shall I make you some tea?” Benjy, her part-time helper was at her elbow and actually startled her.
“That would be nice.” She smiled her thanks. “I’m still a little jumpy, sorry.”
“You’ve had a terrible morning. And poor Debby. I hope the law finds her killer quickly. Do they have any leads?”
She thought about the stocking tied around the victim’s throat but decided against revealing that detail. She didn’t want to step into the investigation and tell too much. “I don’t know. Barney took me home before the CSI people got there.”
“Did you actually see the body?” Benjy asked.
It was only natural curiosity. The whole town was buzzing about it and several people had stopped by the book store—people who’d never read a book in their lives. “I did, but it’s distressing. Let’s talk about something more pleasant.”
“Of course. I’m sorry. That was thoughtless. The shipment of Harry Potter books arrived and story hour is set for Saturday. I think we’ll have a good turnout.”
She appreciated Benjy’s swift change of conversational direction. “A new Potter book is always a good day for the store. Have you gone through any of those old books we picked up at auction?”
“I found a first edition of a Mary Ward Brown collection. Signed. And an ARC of Rebecca Barrett’s new romantic mystery. It’s a collectible.”
“Bravo!” Tammy high-fived him.
“Reverend McNaughton is coming by later today to search through them. Shall I let him take what he wants.”
“Of course. Tell him we’ll price them later and if he doesn’t care for the price he can return them.” She had a standing deal with the minister, who was an avid reader and collector of noir crime fiction. “I think there’s one Margaret Millar in there, maybe more. He’ll love that.”
The books weren’t monetarily valuable, but for someone who loved the California P.I. scene from the 1950s, they would be a joyful find.
Tammy accepted the steaming mug of tea Benjy offered her, aware that he’d prepared it just as she liked it. “I’m going to work on the bank statements. Would you keep an eye on Trouble?” The cat loved the window and would sit there for hours watching the town people pass by.
“Sure thing. I’ll unbox the new mysteries and shelve them.”
“Thanks.” Tammy closed the office door, which had a glass pane that gave her a good view of the store, and pulled up the accounting program on her computer. She hated doing the books but it was a necessary evil. The store made a modest living for her, and enough to pay Benjy part time. But only because she closely watched her spending.
She set to work and an hour later was almost finished when she heard the bell on the shop door jingle and Aiden Waters walked in. His dark gaze sought her, and when he found her, butterflies tumbled in her stomach. She couldn’t say if it was because of Aiden or because of the topic he’d come to discuss.
“Do you have some time to answer a few questions?” Aiden asked after he’d opened the door to her office. His broad shoulders tapered to a narrow waist and long, lean legs.
“Yes. Come in.” He hadn’t come to flirt. He was there because a lovely young woman was dead.
Aiden took a seat in front of her desk. “I hate to do this, but I have to ask.”
“It’s fine.” Her palms were sweaty. Seeing Debby’s body had upset her more than she realized.
They went over the details, and Tammy told him everything except one fact. She hadn’t retrieved the telescope from Rook’s Vantage. Which meant she was going back there to get it. If she told Aiden, she knew he would try to stop her. She should have asked him to recover the telescope when he was recovering the body, but she hadn’t. And now she didn’t want to. She’d get it herself. She’d read enough serial killer books to know the murderer was unlikely to use the same body dump and was too smart to go back to the scene of his crime.
Even though she knew she was rationalizing in the worst possible way, Tammy also decided she’d have to take a chance. If she told Aiden her intentions, he would stop her, or at least force her to ask Tom Wells for permission, which would result in the same thing—a dead end to her plans. And that telescope was expensive.
“Tammy, are you okay?” Aiden asked, a frown touching his forehead. “You seem distracted.”
“A little,” she said. She could have added that lying was hard for her. Even lies of omission. “I’m fine, though.”
“Did you get your head checked?”
“It isn’t necessary. The headache is gone, and I’m not sleepy.”
Aiden sighed. “Would you have it checked, just to give me peace of mind?”
She did a tiny double-take. Was he truly that worried about her? “I promise, if I feel bad or sleepy or nauseated, I’ll go straight to the E.R.”
; “I could drive you now,” Aiden offered. “Then we could get something to eat if you’re hungry.”
“Clever, but not clever enough to trick me into going to the doctor. Go and find your killer. I need to finish these books and help Benjy restock the romance section.”
“You’re a hard-headed woman,” Aiden said.
“I’m aware. It’s part of my undying charm.” She pushed her glasses up her nose and picked up her pen as he exited the shop. Now it was time to finish the books and move on with the day’s chores.
* * *
Aiden stopped at the corner of the Book Basket and hesitated. He’d been very aware that Benjy Miller was hovering just outside Tammy’s office the whole time they’d talked. Benjy had opened boxes and pulled out books and otherwise kept busy, but Aiden had the sense that the employee was doing everything he could to eavesdrop. Maybe idle curiosity, or maybe because he had something to hide. Benjy seemed like a pleasant enough guy, but some things didn’t add up about him. He was an enigma. Benjy’s skulking had kept him from telling Tammy his worst suspicions about Tammy’s killer. And that troubled him. Tammy had physically bumped into the person who might be the SSK. She needed to know the extent of her potential danger.
Aiden sat in the patrol car and radioed the sheriff’s office. “Would you run a background check on Benjy Miller?” Alma would give the request to the first deputy back in the office.
“Sure thing. Is he a suspect in the murder of Debby Caldwell?” Alma asked.
“Maybe.” He liked the dispatcher, but she loved to gossip like everyone else in town. “Keep it on the down-low, Alma. This is important.”
“You got it, Aiden.”
He pulled into traffic and the radio squawked into life again. “Code 10, Crater Bar.”
He picked up the mic. “10-4. I’m on the way.”
Just what he needed, some yahoos skunk drunk before lunch and duking it out. Or worse, knives. Knives were always worse. Luckily, the roughnecks who patronized the Crater Bar generally weren’t armed with guns. Generally.
A Box Full of Trouble Page 3
