After talking to Maggie for some time, Lainie returned. “I told her to stay put, that there may still be a danger to you and your family, and I promised her I’d get you home safe. I’ll call her later if we have an update.” She looked closely at me. “Are you okay? I need to go in and—never mind, here comes the lieutenant now.”
“It’s Jennifer, all right,” he said. “The tattoo was right where you said it would be. I’m very sorry, Ben.”
I nodded. My heart clenched and my eyes filled with tears. Now where’s my daughter? Oh please God, don’t take her, too.
He continued. “I need to tell you, Ben, it’s pretty bad in there.”
“Can it be any worse than the others?”
“I’m afraid so,” he said. “This one is very different.” He paused, not wanting to say the next thing. “I’m afraid she was still alive when … well … you know.”
I put my face in my hands and looked up at the black sky. “Oh, good Christ!” I choked.
Agent MacKenzie interrupted. “Lieutenant, we need to send someone to the Marshak residence immediately. Plum’s taken a very personal interest in Ben. Who knows what he may try next.”
“I’m on it,” he said. Minutes later, he had dispatched two police cruisers to the Marshak estate with the sole purpose of guarding my family. Lainie called Maggie and told her they were on their way.
Netter looked at me. “We need to make a next of kin notification. Are you up to it?”
“No … I ’m sorry.”
“Can you give me a name?”
“Patricia Reardon on Leeks Avenue in Durham,” I said. “She’s Jennifer’s sister.”
“Okay. You stay as long as you want, Ben,” Netter said. “But I’d advise you to go home and be with your family. I can have someone take you whenever you’re ready.”
“I will,” I said, “but I think I’ll be able to drive in a few minutes.”
Lainie smiled faintly. “I don’t think so,” she said. “Your car has three flat tires. We need to call someone and have it towed away. Is it all right to do that, Lieutenant?”
Netter nodded, and Lainie called Don’s Towing Service and made arrangements to have my car taken to the Jaguar dealer.
“Hand me my phone please, Lainie. I want to try Amanda Jane again. I need to find her.”
As soon as I took the phone, it rang.
I looked at Netter, puzzled. “It says Jennifer’s calling.”
“We didn’t see her phone in the house. It must be Plum. Give it to me.”
But I didn’t give it to him. I answered it and began screaming into it. “You mother fuckin’ bastard! If you touch a hair on my baby’s head, I’ll rip your fuckin’ heart out! Do you hear me? I’ll rip your fuckin’ heart out!”
“Daddy? Is that you? Why are you so angry?” It was Amanda Jane.
CHAPTER 15
Amanda Jane had attended her violin lesson with Mrs. Ralston from six o’clock to seven o’clock in the evening. As usual, her mother dropped her off and was to pick her up afterward. My daughter had left her cell phone in her locker at school that day, which is why she hadn’t received my call, and Jennifer had given her own phone to Amanda Jane, so she could call when she was ready to be picked up.
But Amanda Jane had turned the phone off during her lesson, which is why she hadn’t received my call to Jennifer either. When her music lesson was over, Amanda Jane made repeated calls to the house with no answer, and then she finally called me.
I asked why investigators at the house had not answered my daughter’s calls and learned that Plum had cut the phone lines.
Agent MacKenzie and I went with two officers to Mrs. Ralston’s residence in Apex to get Amanda Jane, who still knew nothing about what was happening. I called Maggie and told her about this nightmare on the way. Apex police were already there when we arrived, but they had only told Mrs. Ralston that there was an event unfolding, and they were there as a security precaution.
We went to the door, and Lainie showed her identification to the uniformed officer who answered. I looked past him and my eyes filled with tears. There she was—my beautiful, precious, sweet baby girl. I was never so happy to see anyone in my life. She was radiant in a snowy white sweater and skinny black jeans and her coveted purple flowered cowboy boots. Her silky blonde hair was pulled into a ponytail, low to one side, and held in place with a simple black ribbon. Her fresh-scrubbed young face and gleaming blue eyes simply lit up when she saw me. She was mine and she was perfect—glowing and happy and innocent—and I was just about to shatter her world.
I kissed my daughter and wrapped my arms around her. She was confused and wary as we began to leave. Lainie remained behind to inform Mrs. Ralston of the situation and update the Apex officers. Our Cary police escorts met Amanda Jane and me halfway up the drive and ushered us back to the car. The officers stood guard with their hands on their side arms as we got into the back of the cruiser.
I held my daughter tightly and began the agonizing task of telling her about her mother’s violent death. I thought it best to be honest and tell her as soon as possible—it would be all over the news anyway. As expected, it did not go well. She fell completely apart and sobbed with such distressing intensity that I thought she might go into convulsions. All I could do was cradle her limp, trembling body in my arms.
When Lainie returned, the officers suggested taking Amanda Jane to an emergency room to be looked at. But she protested and said she “just wanted to go lie down at Daddy’s house.”
Jagged flashes of lightening in the distant sky were followed by the faint rumble of thunder. A storm was rolling in.
By the time we reached the six-acre estate on Meadow Rue Drive in Holly Springs, it was raining heavily. There were two police cruisers at the estate—one backed into the driveway by the guesthouse, and one parked in front by the main house. There were two officers in each car.
As we pulled into the driveway and stopped, Agent MacKenzie brushed Amanda Jane’s hair from her eyes, gently wiped the tears from her face with a tissue, and asked her if she was okay. Amanda Jane nodded wearily and failed at an attempt to smile. MacKenzie remained in the car as we got out. She was returning to the crime scene to meet with investigators and told me that she’d also check on my car.
One of the officers from the cruiser in the driveway got out of his vehicle, met us with an umbrella, and escorted us to the front door. He looked at us sympathetically as we thanked him.
Maggie had been watching for us and was waiting anxiously with the door open. She looked at me with worry and concern as she took Amanda Jane in her arms. “Come on in, sweetie. Let me get you out of your wet things.”
Julie threw her arms around Amanda Jane and tried to smile bravely, but I could tell she had been crying too.
Nora and Roberta stood nervously in the foyer, helpless, not knowing what to say or do.
Just then the phone rang, and we all jumped. Roberta headed to the kitchen to answer it. “Make sure you know who it is,” I said.
She nodded warily. Moments later she returned and said to Maggie, “It’s Mr. Bradley, returning your call.” Maggie looked protectively at Amanda Jane and reluctantly left to take the call.
“C’mon, girls, let’s go sit down and figure out what to do,” Nora said smiling. That’s my Nora. I was so grateful to have someone to help me begin dealing with this. She put an arm around each of the girls and led them into the great room.
Oscar, keenly aware that something was wrong, followed them and sat quietly at Julie’s feet.
Roberta looked at me sadly. “Has Miss Amanda eaten dinner yet?”
“I don’t think so,” I said. “We brought her straight here. She’s totally devastated, and I’m worried sick about her.”
“Pobre angelito. She just lost her mama, and she doesn’t know what to do. Well, she’s still got us, and we’re gonna take care of her. I’ll fix some soup, and I don’t know what else and see if I can get her to eat something.”
It was the worst day of my life–even worse than my eighteenth birthday. But I just might get through this with the love and support of my amazing new family. I tried to compose myself, and joined Nora and the girls.
Maggie hung up the phone and came into the great room. She knelt in front of Amanda Jane and tenderly took my daughter’s hands in hers.
“I’m so sorry about your mom, sweetheart. There’s nothing I can do to make this go away, but I will always be right here for you. Your beautiful mother is watching over you from heaven, and I’ll be watching over you from down here.” My wonderful wife. I couldn’t have spoken at that moment if my life depended on it.
“Thank you,” Amanda Jane whispered softly. And then she melted into Maggie’s arms and clung to her, crying soundlessly. Maggie helped Amanda Jane lie down on the sofa, covered her with a throw, and knelt next to her for a long time, gently rubbing her back as my daughter grieved for her mother. Oscar sat next to Maggie, watching them both.
A sudden crack of thunder gave us a start. Torrential rain was now battering the windows and pounding the roof. There was a blinding flash of lightening and another angry crash of thunder. The lights went out.
I jumped to my feet and listened. All I could hear was the sound of thrashing rain. “Everybody sit tight and stay right where you are!” I crept to the side of the large back window and peered out, scanning for anything out of the ordinary. I saw nothing and went to the dining room windows at the front of the house. One of the guarding police officers was running up the walk with a flashlight.
I met him at the door.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, sir,” he said. “I just thought you might want to know that the power is out over the entire area. It’s not just your house. Try not to worry—there are four of us out here watching for anything suspicious.”
“Thank you,” I said, and watched him return to his car as I closed the door.
A few minutes later, the lights came back on and we all began to breathe again. Maggie gathered flashlights, candles and matches, and stockpiled them on the great room coffee table, just in case we lost power again. She drew all the drapes and plugged her cell phone in to charge.
Roberta brought in a tray with mugs of steaming cream of tomato soup and a basket of grilled gruyere cheese sandwiches. She and Julie coaxed Amanda Jane into coming to sit with them at the breakfast table. Roberta poured hot chocolate for the girls and Amanda Jane reluctantly took a few sips. She thanked Roberta but didn’t say much of anything else, just sat, staring blankly.
Maggie asked Julie about her day at school, trying to take the focus off of Amanda Jane, and Julie chattered cheerfully as she ate. No one, including Julie, really cared about what she was saying. It was just a way to pass the time, trying to insert a little normalcy into the moment, hoping Amanda Jane would eventually try to eat something. It worked, and Roberta looked at me and smiled.
Normally when Amanda Jane came to visit, she and I would stay in the guesthouse. The second bedroom was made up for her, and she had clothes and personal things in the closet and bathroom. Often, if Maggie wasn’t working, she and Julie would join us, and the four of us would pop popcorn and watch movies and carry on. Sometimes Julie slept with Amanda Jane, and the two girls would keep me up all night with their whispering and giggling. Even though we would all be tired in the morning, I liked it.
No one would be sleeping in the guesthouse tonight, though. I didn’t want to separate the family between the two houses. The rain finally tapered off, and I got up and put on my jacket.
“Where are you going?” Maggie asked.
“To get some things for Amanda Jane from the guesthouse. We’ll stay in the main house tonight.” I saw relief on everyone’s face.”
“Can Amanda sleep with me tonight?” Julie asked. My daughter brightened a tiny bit.
“Sure. Do you want Oscar, too?” I asked. They both nodded. He was patiently sitting at their feet, willing something to be dropped.
“That sounds like a plan to me,” Nora said, “and if you want to, the two of you can always come and sleep with me.” She looked down at Oscar. “Okay, the three of you.” Nora kissed both girls, petted Oscar, and retired to her room.
When I turned on the back light and opened the door, Oscar was right behind me.
“C’mon, buddy. You might as well take a pee while I’m out here, but if you fall in the pool tonight, you’re on your own.”
We crossed the courtyard, stopping long enough for Oscar to smell a few things and make a deposit on the freshly spread pine straw. The officer in the driver’s seat of the cruiser parked in front of the guesthouse opened his window and asked if everything was okay. At the sound of the officer’s voice, Oscar went into a frenzy, and I picked the little twerp up to calm him down.
“Sorry about that, he thinks he owns the place,” I said. “Yes, thank you, things are fine.”
The door to the guesthouse was unlocked. Until this moment, I’d never felt the need to lock it. After opening the door, I cautiously peered inside. It was dead quiet—and dark. A chill ran down my spine as I held Oscar in one arm while I reached in and groped with the other.
“Where the hell is the damn light switch?” I finally found it and flipped on the entry light. We went in, and I closed the door behind us, realizing I’d been holding my breath.
I set Oscar down on the floor and stared into the quietness. I had never been afraid in the guesthouse before—but I was afraid now. As I started toward Amanda Jane’s bedroom, I didn’t realize Oscar was right in front of me, and I stepped on his little paw. He squealed like a banshee, and I jumped back against the front door.
“Dammit!” I shouted. Once my heart began to beat again, I looked down at Oscar who was standing in front of me, wagging. “Thank you very much! Jesus!”
CHAPTER 16
A few minutes later, Oscar and I were back in the main house with Amanda Jane’s things. Maggie took them from me and started up the stairs. My daughter ran to me and hugged me so tight it hurt. I wrapped my arms around her and gently kissed her on the top of the head.
“Good night, sweetheart.”
“Good night, Daddy.” She looked so small and pale as she walked wearily upstairs to join Julie and Maggie, who was helping them get settled for bed. Oscar hobbled up the stairs after them.
So exhausted I could hardly move, I slumped in a chair at the breakfast table. It had been a long, bad day. Roberta walked in.
“Can I make you coffee, Mr. Ben?” she asked.
“Actually, Roberta, I could use a drink. Is there any scotch in the house?”
She nodded. “Si. On the rocks?”
“Yes, please.”
She came back with a fifth of Johnnie Walker Blue and two glasses, set the bottle in front of me and sat down. I poured about a half-inch of scotch into my glass. She frowned.
“That is not a drink for a man,” she said. She took the bottle and poured another two inches into my glass.
“Now that is a drink for a man, si?”
I smiled. “Si.”
She poured the same amount for herself, and we clinked glasses.
We each took a long sip. “You were right, Roberta, I brought evil to my family.”
“No, it was not you,” she huffed. “It was that mannyak. You don’t geeve up. You help the police … and you get that bastard son of a beetch! Your family needs you. We all need you.”
Roberta finished her drink in three more swallows and stood. She squeezed my shoulder, turned, and went upstairs.
I had learned two things from that brief interaction. First, and most important, Roberta cared about me. A person’s true feelings come out in times of crisis. The second thing I learned was that Roberta could out-drink me any day of the week. It took me another fifteen minutes to finish my glass of scotch.
I turned the TV on to channel fourteen. Maggie came down about twenty minutes later and joined me on the sofa. “The girls are down,” she said. “Amanda’s drained.
She’s going to have a rough time.”
It was eerie watching coverage of the crime and seeing my old house surrounded by police and crime scene tape. My Jaguar was gone, probably towed to the dealer. Lieutenant Netter gave a statement at midnight and took questions. He kept getting asked if the murder was the work of the Headless Corpse Killer, a.k.a. Jack Plum. Netter was non-committal, saying, “there are substantial similarities, and it cannot be ruled out at this time.”
The reporter gave the name of the victim and stated, “she was the ex-wife of Benjamin Franklin Tucker, renowned author and member of the police task force recently formed to stop the killings that have plagued the southwest Raleigh suburbs.”
“Jeez! How’d they find that out so quickly?” Maggie asked.
“It’s not really very difficult,” I said. “You can do a search on public records that contain Jennifer’s name and find my name on the same records, like marriage or divorce records. They could also have interviewed neighbors. It’s pretty easy.”
“What about tomorrow?” Maggie asked. “What about Amanda’s school?”
“No one’s going to school tomorrow,” I said. “Not Amanda Jane … and not Julie. And you’re not going to work. Nobody’s leaving this house until I find out what’s going on at the task force meeting. You’re going to sleep right here on the sofa, and I’m going to pull this armchair over in front of the stairs.”
I went with Maggie as she retrieved a couple of blankets and pillows from the master bedroom. I opened the closet, reached up on the top shelf and pulled down a blue plastic pistol case. I set the case on the bed and opened it to reveal Pure Reason.
It was the nickname I had given my Smith & Wesson Model 329PD, .44 Magnum caliber revolver. I opened the cylinder and inserted six .44 Special copper jacketed hollow point cartridges.
Maggie was watching me. She hated guns, and we’d had a terrible fight the day I told her I bought it. But she said nothing. This was different—one of our own had been murdered.
Vengeance is Mine - A Benjamin Tucker Mystery Page 8
