CRUEL DECEPTION (Det. Jason Strong(CLEAN SUSPENSE) Book 9)

by John C. Dalglish

  Jason quickly noticed Devin James, the longtime city crime reporter for the San Antonio news, in his customary position up front. Lieutenant Banks went to the podium while Jason, Vanessa, and Patton lined up behind her. She tapped the microphone twice, heard the thumps, and began.

  “Thank you for coming. On the screen behind me, you will see the faces of three women. The first is Nikki Bostik, the second is Lori Mason, and the third is Emma Perkins. All three have been murdered, the most recent being Emma Perkins, yesterday.”

  She looked up before continuing. “We have reason to believe there is a connection between these three women, and they may have been targeted because of that connection, but we have not been able to discern what ties them together.”

  A hand went up. “Have they all been killed by the same person?”

  Banks looked up to see that Devin James waiting for an answer. The muscles in her face tightened, but she kept going.

  “We believe the same killer may be responsible but until we make the connection, we are not prepared to release any more information. We are appealing to the public to let us know if they are aware of a connection between these three. An anonymous call can be made to the police station hotline.”

  She paused. “Are there any questions?”

  A hand went up in the back. “How were the women killed?”

  “We believe a knife was used in all three cases, but I’m not at liberty to discuss the any specifics.”

  James asked a question without raising his hand this time. “Do you consider yourself to be hunting a serial killer in this case?”

  Banks stared at the reporter before answering, her voice measured and restrained. “We don’t want the public concerned that these are random killings without evidence to support that conclusion. For now, we just want to see if there is a connection we haven’t found.”

  She folded her notes. “That will be all. There’s a briefing note on the table by the door. Thank you for coming.”

  The four filed out and Jason checked his watch. He showed it to Vanessa. “Seven minutes, pretty good!”

  Once in the elevator, Sarah Banks took a deep breath. Captain Patton winked at her. “Nice job, Sarah. Dancing around a question from James is never easy. You managed to do it without lying through your teeth.”

  The lieutenant gave her boss a wry smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “It was meant as one.”

  Chapter 8

  Jason and Vanessa spent the rest of the afternoon poring over the remainder of the phone records. Neither detective found any connection with Kansas City, but they still believed the killer had a purpose for the writing, especially since he had remained so long after the killings to do it. They just had to figure out what that purpose was.

  Vanessa sat back in her chair and rubbed her eyes. “That’s the last page. How about you?”

  Jason peeled back his stack. “Six or seven more.”

  Vanessa stood. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to call it a day. Rob promised to take me to dinner tonight and I want to look nice.”

  Jason waved his hand at her without looking up from the phone records. “Have a good time.”

  “Thanks. See you in the morning.”

  After she left, Jason took less than ten minutes to finish his stack. He pushed back from his desk and let out a sigh. Getting up, he tapped on the lieutenant’s door.

  “Come!”

  He opened the door and stuck his head inside. “Any calls to the hotline?”

  “Not yet. The story has only had time to run on the early edition news, and most people aren’t even home yet.”

  “Who’s on the phone line tonight?”

  “Diaz.”

  “Good. He’s solid. Okay, I’m out of here. Vanessa is already gone.”

  “Good night. See you in the morning.”

  Jason closed the door and headed downstairs.

  *******

  Sandy carried two cups of tea into the family room, Penny padding along behind her. She handed one cup to Jason before sitting next to him on the couch. He put his arm around her and she leaned back against his chest, sipping her tea.

  Penny dropped her huge white body onto the oversized pillow in the corner that served as her throne. Her eyes never left the two of them, and as Jason watched her, he was pretty sure she could see them through her eyelids when she slept. Still, it made him feel much better knowing Penny was here when he was forced to be away from home.

  Jason had the news on and the report from the press conference was next. The anchor led the story, and then threw it to a reporter in front of the police station.

  “That’s right, Tom. The police are asking for the public’s help in connecting these three women.”

  The photos of all three came on the screen, their names under each photo, along with their ages and the dates they were killed. Next, the screen changed to the film from the press conference while the reporter continued.

  “Police are not saying the deaths are the work of a serial killer, but they did say the manner of death was the same for all three. Why the women were targeted is where the public comes in. Police want to know if anyone has knowledge of what connects these three women to each other. If you have any information, call the number on your screen. Back to you, Tom.”

  Jason flipped the channel over to ‘Wheel of Fortune,’ his and Sandy’s favorite show, and hugged his wife a little tighter. Nina was already in bed, and he loved this time when the two of them could enjoy each other’s company. He let his mind wander to solving the bloody writing puzzle. It was frustrating that neither he nor Vanessa could unravel the meaning.

  “Back to the Future!”

  He looked down to see his wife grinning at him. She’d solved the puzzle before he’d even focused on it. She apparently noticed. “Hey, where are you?”

  He stroked her hair. “I’m sorry. Just distracted, I guess.”

  She made an exaggerated pouty face. “This is my time!”

  He kissed her forehead. “You’re right. Watch out, you may not solve another puzzle tonight.”

  She rolled her eyes, and proceeded to prove him wrong on the very next puzzle.

  *******

  That afternoon, he sat in his tiny studio apartment watching the early news. He’d heard on the radio that there was going to be a news conference held in reference to a series of murders. As the faces came up on the screen, he smiled to himself.

  They don’t have clue. They’re hoping someone makes a connection that only I know.

  Still, he was disappointed there was no mention of the writing in blood. He figured they either didn’t know what to make of it, or they thought they had it figured out, which was not likely. And even if they did, it would only serve his purpose to a greater degree.

  The question was asked if the killings were being done by a serial killer. The cops tried not to say so, but it was obvious they were leaning that direction, and that was perfect. He looked over at the gloves and knife sitting on the coffee table, smiling to himself as he thought of the next kill.

  I think it’s time to set the next step in motion.

  He picked up his phone, grabbed a washcloth he’d kept handy for this purpose, and dialed the number of Sunshine Realty.

  “Sunshine Realty, can I help you?”

  “Yes, is Carly Simmons in?”

  “Yes. Can I tell her who’s calling?”

  “Andy Young.”

  “Please hold, Mr. Young.”

  A few minutes later, a female voice came on the line.

  “This is Carly Simmons.”

  He held the double folded washcloth over the mouthpiece. “Yes, Miss Simmons, I’m calling about your listing on Hunter Green.”

  “Yes, Sir. What did you say your name was?”

  “Andy Young.”

  “Okay, Mr. Young…”

  “Andy is fine.”

  “…Andy. Have you been by the house?”

  “Yes, I’ve driven
by, but I would like to see the inside.”

  “Very well, when did you want to see it?”

  “Are you available tomorrow afternoon, say around three?”

  “Yes, I can do that. Did you want to come by the office?”

  “No, I’ll meet you at the house.”

  “What was that? I’m having a hard time hearing you.”

  “I will meet you there!”

  “Okay, we’ll see you tomorrow at three.”

  “Three, good. See you then. Bye.”

  He hung up. His heart pounded with anticipation as looked at the glowing digits on his watch. His wait was less than twenty-four hours. He picked up the knife and ran his finger along the edge.

  I don’t think it’s sharp enough. I better spend some time making sure it’s as ready as I am for tomorrow.

  *******

  Michael Diaz had received several calls on the hotline, but nothing interesting enough to bother Jason or Vanessa at home. He’d just hung up with the latest call when the elevator doors slid open. A courier walked a thick brown envelope over and handed it to the detective.

  Diaz examined it. “What’s this?”

  The young lady looked at her clipboard. “Documents from Phillips Law Group.”

  He recognized the name. “Okay, where do I sign?”

  She held out the clipboard, Michael signed where she pointed, and she was gone.

  He took the envelope over to Jason’s desk and laid it there. As he did, the phone rang again.

  Chapter 9

  Both Jason and Vanessa were at the station early the next day. The hotline had brought multiple calls in, but nothing that connected the crimes. People had general information about the women, or they just called because they always do, but no one had come up with the magic answer: why these women were targeted.

  The files from Gary Phillips were waiting for them, and they had combed over them first thing, but found nothing to connect the three cases. The names on all the files matched what they already knew.

  They sat at their desks, staring at each other, trying to decide what to do next. Lieutenant Banks got off the elevator and stopped by their desks. “You two are early. Did they come up with anything from the news reports last night?”

  Vanessa shook her head. “Not what we were looking for.”

  “Alright, bring your files into the conference room. I’ll get some coffee and we’ll whiteboard this thing.”

  They nodded and started gathering their papers. Ten minutes later, Banks came into the room and sat at the far end of the table from the whiteboard. She handed Jason a sheet of paper.

  “That just came in on the fax.”

  Jason looked it over, then waved it at Vanessa. “The class files for Emma Perkins.”

  Banks was studying the information her detectives had put up on the board.

  “Where are the photos?”

  Vanessa shot her a confused look. “Photos?”

  “Yeah, of the writing. I see you’ve written the words as part of the scene descriptions but where are the photos?”

  Vanessa opened a folder and took out three large pictures, taping them across the top of the board. She turned to see Banks studying them with one eye closed. Vanessa walked over to where Jason sat and looked over his shoulder at the class list.

  “Are the names there?”

  Jason shook his head. “No Nikki Bostik and no Lori Mason.”

  “Dang it!”

  The two detectives looked up to see Banks standing at the board. She had erased a portion of their notes and written the bloody letters in a row, starting from the first scene to the next and the next. They stared at them. KCATTHE.

  Banks pointed at the letters. “Maybe they’re not independent messages. What if it’s meant to be a group of letters that have to be unscrambled?”

  Jason thought the lieutenant might be onto something. “Of course, let’s see what words we can make out of them.”

  Banks erased more of the board and started writing down any words Jason or Vanessa could see in the letters.

  CAT

  THE

  AT

  HAT

  KATE

  TACK

  TEA

  ATE

  Jason called out numerous things, but Vanessa was still looking at the jumble with curious eyes. Jason stopped. “What is it?”

  Vanessa moved toward the board and took the marker from Banks. She erased another spot. “What if the letters are in the right order, but the spacing was wrong?”

  She wrote it slowly, but Jason already saw it. He said it as she put it up.

  “KC AT THE…”

  Banks looked confused. “What does that mean?”

  Jason stared at Vanessa, shock painted across her face, and then turned to Banks.

  “Casey at the bat.”

  The lieutenant looked at him like he had gone off the deep end. “What?”

  “But there is no joy in Mudville—mighty Casey has struck out. It’s a poem by Ernest Thayer.”

  “What does that have to do with the murders?”

  Jason dropped into his chair, rubbing his forehead. “Likely nothing.”

  The lieutenant was getting angry. “Speak in full sentences, man! What are you trying to say?”

  “It is likely that the poem has no connection to the murders. My guess is he wanted to distract us, to deceive us into going down a pointless path. To cause us to strike out.”

  Banks looked from one detective to the other. “Are you sure?”

  Jason nodded. “I’ve known that poem since I was a boy. There’s nothing in it that could connect to these murders, at least not that I can see.”

  Vanessa set the marker down. “It does tell us one thing though.”

  Both Sarah and Jason looked at her. “What?”

  “It tells us he isn’t done killing. The title isn’t finished yet.”

  The silence in the room overwhelmed them as each detective tried to digest what they had learned. After a minute or two, Banks headed for her office.

  “If you’re right, then we’d better find what it was he was trying to lead us astray from, and fast.”

  *******

  Carly Simmons turned on Hunter Green. She knows very well not to get worked up over a showing, but with Christmas just around the corner, the sale of the Landry home would be fantastic. Situated on three acres, the house was set back from the road nearly four hundred yards, and it reminded Carly of the Mississippi Antebellum homes that she and Chris had toured on their honeymoon.

  Turning down the driveway, she noticed she was the first car, and she’d arrived before Mr. Young. The driveway did a loop in front of the house and she stopped by the front door. Checking herself in the mirror, she played with the rebellious blond curl hanging in her right eye for a minute before giving up and leaving it as it was.

  Getting out of the car, she pulled her jacket collar tight. The day was unusually cold and a north wind was making it worse. At the door, she entered the combination to the lockbox hanging on the knob, removed the key, and let herself in. Taking a quick look down the driveway before she closed the door, she still didn’t see Mr. Young’s car.

  Her heels reverberated off the empty living room walls as she crossed the solid wood floor to turn on some lights. The only furniture left by the seller was a dining room set and the appliances. Everything else was gone. Moving to the kitchen, she turned on those lights, and stood staring out the large window over the sink.

  One of the best features of the house was the view behind it. Instead of several neighbors’ homes, the property backed up on Salado Creek Greenway, a set of hiking trails along the bank of the river. Trees lined the edge of the property where it met the stream.

  Carly heard the front door open and walked out into the living room.

  “Mr. Young, is that you?”

  “Hi, Carly.”

  “Chris, what are you doing here?”

  “I needed to talk to you.”

&
nbsp; Carly tried to hide her irritation. Even though she and Chris were getting divorced, it had been amicable, and she didn’t want to be harsh with him.

  “I don’t have time now; I’m meeting a client here any minute.”

  “Andy Young?”

  “Yes…” Carly realized something wasn’t quite right. “How do you know his name, and how did you know where to find me?”

  “I’m Andy Young.”

  “You’re Andy…” She stopped as the face she had known for so long became unrecognizable. His eyes turned oil black and his features hardened. A gun came out from inside his jacket.

  “Chris, what are you doing?”

  “Shut up and sit in that chair.”

  She looked at the chair, but still not grasping the situation, she objected. “No, I’m not doing anything until you tell me what this is all about.”

  The booming noise that followed forced her eyes shut, and she covered her ears. When the sound died away, her head swam with the concussion of a bullet whizzing past her head. The gun was still pointed at her, a wisp of smoke leaving the barrel, and the smell of gunpowder in the air. She didn’t know the voice that came from inside Chris.

  “Sit…in…the…chair.”

  Carly was unable to move, frozen in fear. Chris walked around her, retrieved the dining chair, and forced it against the back of her knees. She collapsed into the seat. He produced a rope and tied her to the chair back.

  “Chris, I don’t understand why you’re doing this?”

  “You will…before you die.”

  *******

  Jason sat in the conference room with Vanessa going over the notes from the law office for the tenth time. There had to be a connection they’d missed. The hotline had still not produced anything useful and they were running out of options. Jason suspected they were running out of time as well.

  He looked up at the clock above the whiteboard. Three fifteen. The network stations were going to run the news report again this evening, but Jason didn’t like waiting for the other shoe to drop. He picked up the list from New Life Spa.