by catt dahman
“You betcha!”
Nick felt the sheriff was being honest and that he was probably correct. “Coach, considering his two friends were recently killed, did Jasper have concerns he voiced, or did he act strangely before this? Did he act as if he were worried in particular? Did his behavior change?”
“He was sad, just like the rest of the ball team and all the students. Like I said, he was a quiet type.” He stopped and tilted his head, “But I remember this one thing just now. We were talking, and I told them we had to call off the next game. He looked over at Wayne, and it looked as if he were moving his lips, but not saying anything out loud. I remember that ‘cause I called his name and asked him to pay attention, which I never had to do. I don’t know what he said, but they both looked…I dunno….” Coach Cervantes held his hands out. “Not worried…but….”
“Afraid? Concerned?”
“No. Flummoxed. He looked real confused. Wayne had the same look.”
“Thank you.” Nick chewed on his pencil. He repeated, “Flummoxed.”
Fin smiled. He was a good looking man and aware of it, but he wasn’t snobbish; he was a smart mouth at times and full of mischief, and that balanced his good looks so that everyone liked him. He thought that had he been there going to school, people would have described him the same way: good kid. He smirked and said, “I guess Wayne was a good kid.”
Coach Cervantes matched the smirk and replied, “No, he was a real ringed-tail-toot.”
“Oh, in what way?” Fin was surprised.
“Ehhh, Wayne was a lady’s man, brilliant, funny, and had a knack for getting in trouble with everyone, but not bad, evil stuff, just dumb stuff. He caused a couple of girls to fight over him, he broke curfew a few times, he popped bubbles in class, and then he got sassy, swallowed the gum and acted innocent and disrupted class…those things. He soaped windows on Halloween. He put tacks in seats and switched salt and sugar shakers. He was almost a good kid, and he wasn’t a bad one for sure. He was silly.”
“Enemies?”
“Like any normal kid with a sass mouth. He was a great football player and an A student. He took that for granted. On the other hand, if anyone needed a loan of lunch money, he went to Wayne. If someone felt bullied, Wayne took up for him. He had a huge heart, and people genuinely respected and liked him. His teachers loved him. He was a leader and would stand for no cutting up, other than his own. He was just a show off.”
After Wayne was reported missing, he was found hanged. The sheriff himself looked in the theater and found him hanging by the drama group’s prop. The weights were from the football weight room and were tied to the rope and the noose was slung over the rafters. While the rope had never been tied to weights, it was that day, and when they were dislodged from a tall shelf, they caused the noose to tighten and jerk him just off his feet, a foot above the floor.
“No prints,” Sheriff Briggs said. That was a well-used area, so everyone had touched everything. We went over it with a fine-toothed comb, and there wasn’t anything to find. It was as if Wayne went into the auditorium, went onto the stage, and was hanged immediately. There was nothing to suggest a fight or a struggle. No defense wounds and he wasn’t beaten.
Nick thought. “So maybe he and whoever killed him were there, and he was clowning around with the noose, thinking it was safe, and was hanged all at once. That is the only one I think could be an accident.”
“Four boys who were mostly good kids and had no enemies were murdered in four dramatic ways, and no one has a clue what we’re dealing with?” Fin asked.
“They had something in common.”
“I agree, Sheriff. I just said the things…and football. The thing they had in common which led to their deaths doesn’t look to be related to those things we know. Someone is really angry, the reason unknown. However, I can say the person is someone you know, is intelligent, knows the boys well, uses conveniences to kill, and must be hiding this anger well. Each case is well planned but not overly thought out or hidden.”
“That’s not an ordinary profile, Virgil. Age? Gender? Reason? Personality?” Vivian asked.
“Ages...around the boys’ ages or the ages of their parents. If older than that they are a person of strong authority. Leaning to male.” Virgil sighed. “That’s all I have. Coach, who do you suspect? Anyone?”
“No, I haven’t got a clue who it could be, but if anyone is after my team, who’s next? I’ve got a bunch of scared kids now, and most of the school is in mourning. They’re just into their senior year, and it’s going to hell in a hand basket. What can I tell them?”
The room went quiet.
Virgil finally spoke, “Tell them to go places in threes. Tell them they have to open up and talk because this is a case that will be solved with words. Tell them to help us. It’ll be something a boy says or a girl doesn’t say. We can’t solve this without their voices.”
Vivian looked at Fin. Strange that Virgil said boy and girl; that implied he felt it was a young person who would help them break the case.
Fin shrugged.
Virgil was already putting pieces in place even if he didn’t say so.
Chapter Four: Questions and More Questions
Coach Cervantes wasn’t thrilled with being asked to have all the football players meet at the school that evening, but he had to comply. He wanted to load them on a bus and guard them, but that wasn't how things worked. It was difficult to step back and allow anyone to poke at his boys; they were his kids.
The sheriff said it would save time, make the townspeople feel more connected and supported, and people might respond more positively. Virgil was sure there was something that someone could add to the evidence. In a way, that scared the coach; what would the questions uncover that was best left alone?
Virgil McLendon asked for the cheer leading team to be there, as well as the boys’ close friends and girlfriends. In fact, he asked for it to be a meeting of all and any students, parents, and teachers. It was be faster to have them all there and they might feel safe enough to speak.
“What do you think about him? The coach?” Sheriff Briggs asked.
“I don’t feel he is involved or is withholding evidence about the case. He is defensive and nervous, but he admitted some pretty strong emotions and his eyes matched those memories. I watched his skin color and pupils; he was horrified at those deaths. He may have his own secrets and may keep some for the boys, but he'd tell if he knew...he seems to be hanging on by a thread.”
“Good. I don’t think he had any hand in it. I think he knows more but maybe doesn’t know what he knows.”
Virgil agreed. “He says they were all great kids. But someone doesn’t think they were great, and that is our killer. Now, we have to figure out who disliked the boys and why. I think the entire town is suspect, and certainly the students. You;d think we'd have plenty who were jealous or who had motive but we have the opposite.”
“Doesn't fit does it?”
“No. That makes me think it matters a lot. It's not normal.”
“Coach is nervous and uncomfortable.”
“I attribute that to the deaths and being questioned. I’m sure he’s wondering about his own safety and if he’ll be accused as well. He didn’t answer all our questions fully. He’s scared and he’s very protective of the boys and families and their good names.”
“I can’t imagine a kid doing this,” said the sheriff as he scratched his chin thoughtfully.
“It’s difficult. That’s bothering me as well,” Virgil admitted.
They had already checked into a hotel and they had sat and reviewed notes. The boys had to have something that connected them, and it was something that infuriated someone. What did the good kids do? Virgil wished he could share something with the sheriff, but he didn’t know what was going on in this little town.
Killers normally used the same methods. Virgil could have profiled this, but each time he started a profile, he lurched to a stop. His inability to describe the
killer actually was beginning to form a perfect picture in his mind, but on this case, he wanted to step back and watch those who were still training, and see how they arrived at a theory.
Some of the football team sat on the bleachers at the front of the gym with other students while others sat with parents, or sat alone. All looked very serious and concerned. Worried eyes followed the people at the front. Sheriff Briggs took over after the coach explained why they were there. He stressed how important it was to tell anything and everything they knew. He introduced the team. He said each name carefully and patted the agent, showing a partnership; there was no way he would allow a division.
The sheriff told them, “We want to stop whoever it is killing our people. We will not rest or give up until we find out who they are, remove them, and make our town safe again.” Everyone applauded. “A town where fear and worry abound is not my town, so my goal is to make this a place we are still proud of, and where we can feel safe again. I’m asking for your help so we will have that once again.”
More applause followed.
Marcus stood and faced the crowd first, trying to meet some eyes and make a connection, quickly. He gave nods and a few smiles when he could and introduced himself to them. He thought in some ways it was easier when he was just a small town deputy and not involved with a big case; however, the last case he worked with Virgil had almost caused him to die. One never knew.
“Hello, I want to see a show of hands of all who knew Michael Lordes.” Every hand went up. “Now show me your hands if you didn’t like Michael.” No one moved. “ Wow. Now, you all just told me a lot, all at once. I know that everyone liked him without having to ask each of you. Thank you. That's how easy this is. I can learn a lot with nothing more than a show of hands.”
A few people nodded.
“I've heard Michael was a great person and that makes this difficult. It would be far easier if people hated him so would have suspects. Let's move on. I think you all know that Michael was killed through electrocution while he was in the hot tub. Did anyone else ever use the whirlpool?” A few hands went up.
Coach Cervantes was there to record names of those who raised hands for questions. The first one he wrote: all. The second time he put a zero, and the third he wrote a few names.
Just for filler, Marcus asked who had private hot tubs at home and a few hands went up. “Does it help sore backs?” He rubbed his own back while a few nodded and said yes. He smiled and attempted rapport. “Normally they are perfectly safe, but someone made it dangerous. Does anyone know who might have done that? No? It's cowardly for someone to use that way to kill Michael. They didn't have to touch him, but they were very cruel.”
A few nodded.
“Raise your hand if you ever had a date with Michael.” There were titters and giggles, but a few hands went up.
“I ...well...we danced a few times when he took me to the fifth grade end of the year dance,” A girl giggled.
“Any problems? Was he a nice date?”
She giggled again “He didn’t kiss me. He was sweet and shy.”
Another girl laughed and held up her hand “One movie date in sixth grade. We held hands and he was a gentleman. We saw an alien movie and I got scared so we left halfway through,” She laughed more, “He didn’t ask me out again.”
A third hand went up, “Homecoming tenth grade. I had to be home early so it was hardly a date since we danced twice. He teased me and I decided to not date him again but we were friends. We joked about it later.”
“And who was dating him recently?”
“I am. I was.”
Marcus asked, “What’s your name?”
“Mindy Jacobs.” She preened.
“Thanks, Mindy, first, tell me about you, so I know who I am talking to. It helps me so I feel as if I am speaking to a person I know and not a total stranger. What activities are you involved in?” He tried to start with something she was comfortable with: herself. Teenagers were all the same, really, and liked to talk about themselves and their personal interests.
“I’m a cheerleader, I’m in a few clubs, and I was voted most beautiful this year.” She smiled when she said that, aware that she was still the prettiest girl in the senior class. “Also, I am class president this year. I attend church and babysit. I’m on the homecoming committee, an office helper, a girl scout, and run track, and I volunteer at the hospital as a Candy Striper.”
“That’s amazing , Mindy. Being so involved in your school will help you get into a good college. What do you plan to be?”
“Maybe a teacher. I’d love to teach science.”
“ Fantastic. I know this is difficult, but did you and Michael get along?”
“We got along perfectly.”
“Was anyone jealous?”
“Some were jealous; I mean he’s...he was a great catch. And I’m…well… you know. Of course, there was some envy, but I tried hard to get along with everyone and show we wanted to be a role model couple. We made a good couple.” Her face turned sad, “I was in love with him.”
“Do you know who might have done this? How did you get along with the other boys who were killed.”
“I don’t know anything, but the other boys were good guys. I don’t know many people who would say one bad thing about them. They were funny, nice, and ….”
“Good kids?”
“Yes, sir.” Mindy began crying, and her mother shot Marcus a hateful look as she hugged her daughter. Now Marcus was the bad person for making the girl cry.
“Mindy, where were you when you heard about Michael’s death? How did you find out?”
“I was at home, and Mom told me. It was a shock; he was gone, and no one knew why.” She sniffed and wiped her nose on a tissue that her mother offered her. She blew her nose delicately. “It was not what anyone expected.”
“Mrs. Jacobs, how did you find out?” he asked Mindy’s mother.
“The principal called me and told me. I thought…well, it had to be some kind of terrible accident. I wasn't given details, but my first thought was it was an accident. We found out later it was murder, but I can’t imagine who would take the life of such a sweet, thoughtful boy. He was always a gentleman and was over at our house a lot.”
“You liked him?”
“Absolutely. Mindy has an early curfew, but we allowed him to stay and watch TV or talk to Mindy past the curfew, such a nice boy.”
“When is her curfew and when was his?” Marcus kept going, despite the building stress.
“Mindy must be home at 6:00 on school days and 10:00 on weekends. I know that's strict, but that's how we are. Michael was allowed to stay at our home until midnight on weekends, but he couldn’t stay later on weekdays. I can tell you this and save your time, the killer is from out of town, and you need to be looking at people from outside.” People muttered agreement.
“I will certainly keep that in mind. Why are you so sure?”
“Because everyone loved Michael. He was perfect.” Mindy’s mother covered her face as she cried. “He was…our star.”
Mindy looked at Marcus, awaiting a question, her eyes daring him to continue this line of questioning as the crowd became more defensive. When Marcus paused, Mindy spoke, “Do you have a suspect?”
“I have some ideas. What about you? Suspects?”
“None. As my mother said he was near perfect.”
“Thank you. Is there anything else? No? Okay. If you want to talk privately, leave me a message. I assure everyone I will find out who killed Michael Lordes and see they are prosecuted, town resident or outsider. ” He sat down to watch the townspeople. There was an answer here, but the truth was he had no idea about suspects. A few clapped, some nodded, and they muttered quietly.
Briggs stood a second, “I'm going to politely ask that you all don't play detective and grab suspects. We arrested a few for doing that and assaulting two harmless men who we cleared with a few hours. Because of that stupid crowd mentality, two innocent men were a
lmost beaten to death, but they'll live. If they had died, two townspeople would be charged a looking at the death penalty. As it is, they'll get time for assault and battery and all those...some of you in fact, lost cars, trucks, boats latched on your vehicles, and expensive equipment, and guns that you won;t be getting returned. I hope that's some true gossip getting around as a warning.”
“That hard core, Sheriff,”
Briggs glared, Well, you deserved it, Cooter Daniels. Next time, don't beat on people and don't do it when I have a game warden handy.”
“I isn't legal.”
“Sue me I need everything we took for evidence, okay? Sue me. But for the record, it ain't some outsider skulking around preying in the kids. That's stupid to even think that. Get your brains outta you asses, folks.” Briggs sat back down.
“Did the boys suffer?” Mindy asked.
“Some. They knew for about two to five minutes they were dying and were scared. There wasn't a lot of pain for much or for long, but they knew they were dying and they knew who was killing them. It hurt their minds and hearts the most.”
Vivian stood.
A boy raised his hand, “Ma’am?”
“Yes, I’m Agent McLendon. What’s your name?”
“Jerry Barber. Umm. Are you a real agent?”
“Yes, I am. I am still training, but I am an agent. Why do you ask?”
“Because you’re a woman.” He snickered, and the crowd laughed.
“Yes, Jerry, I am. Imagine that. The FBI recruits women and minorities now. Isn’t that amazing that the opportunities are growing? I am one of the first women to be admitted to the FBI and am in the new Behavioral Department. I work with the very first females in the FBI and her name is Fairalee Denton.”
Several girls took more interest.
“But it isn't about being a girl. The BAU is a new section and based on new ways to solve crimes. In the past, we looked at only evidence like blood and fingerprints, but there is a lot more ...there is behavior.”
“What does that mean?” A girl asked.
