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Catch Me If You Can

Page 8

by Mitzi Pool Bridges


  “Did you?”

  Jackie put her head in her hands, tears leaked between her fingers.

  “C’mon, kid. It can’t be that bad.” He went to her, hugged her shoulders.

  “It’s worse.”

  “Wanna tell me about it?” He couldn’t imagine what Jackie had heard that sent her here. It didn’t make sense. She should be talking to her mom.

  Jackie swallowed a few times, wiped her face, then looked him in the eye. “Mom and Lynn had been talking a while before I got to the door. The first thing I heard was Mom telling Lynn that I should be told something because I was old enough to know the truth. That Lynn was doing you an injustice. Then Lynn said something like she didn’t want you to suspect the truth and that’s why she didn’t want you there. She even said I had your smile.”

  What the hell!

  “Do you know what they were talking about? Are you my Dad? Is Lynn my mom and not my sister? I’m so confused.”

  Jake was so tense he couldn’t breathe, nor could he think. This couldn’t be right.

  No way! He and Lynn hadn’t had full-blown sex. Not really. But they’d come so close he supposed it could be true. But why didn’t she tell him?

  “It doesn’t sound right, does it? I’m sorry. I must have misunderstood the conversation.”

  She stood to leave.

  “Sit. I have to think.”

  Jackie took another sip of coffee. “This is beyond weird. I’m really sorry to have bothered you.”

  Jake was pacing the room now, angry as hell. Could he be this teen’s father? The age was right. When she’d smiled last night he’d thought her smile looked familiar. It should. He saw it in the mirror once in a while.

  But why would Lynn keep this from him?

  His heart sank at the answer. She wanted him to have his dream job. A baby would interfere. They could have had both. Others had.

  Dammit to hell. He was too angry to speak.

  When he looked over and saw Jackie huddled on the barstool, his heart broke. He went to her, took her hand and brought her to her feet. “C’mere.”

  She put her head on his chest and bawled. He held her closer. “I’m not that bad a guy, you know. If I had the chance, I’ll bet I’d make a pretty good dad.”

  She bawled louder.

  It took a good thirty minutes of comforting and coaxing to get her settled down. “I think you need a bathroom break. Why don’t you wash your face and comb your hair? Then I’ll take you to school.”

  “I want to know if you’re my dad for real. I brought a q-tip with a swab from my mouth. I brought hair from Lynn’s brush. If you’ll give me a sample, I’ll get them checked. I want to know for sure.”

  He stepped back to take a good look at this woman-child who could be his. “How did you know to do this?”

  She laughed. His heart hurt watching her. She had his smile, his chin, her mother’s eyes and hair color. She was a beautiful mixture of the two of them. And she was smart as hell.

  “I’ve always wanted to go into law enforcement. I thought it was because of my dad…granddad, maybe, and Lynn. Then you showed up.” She smiled again. “I guess it’s in my blood.”

  ‘I guess it is. Give me the samples. I’ll have the DNA taken care of.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. When I get the results, we’ll confront Lynn together.”

  “Cool.”

  “Jackie, I’m about as sure as I can be without the results that you are my daughter. I want you to know I’m proud of you. You’re beautiful and smart. You can do anything in this world you want. And I want to help you do it. Whatever I can do, however I can help, let me know.”

  “Can you help me get into the academy when I graduate from college?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  If only the restlessness would go away. Pacing didn’t help. Taking a drive in the car didn’t help.

  That bitch sheriff should have resigned by now. But no…she was going to give the media a show, act as if she knew something when she didn’t. It wouldn’t fly for long.

  They’ll be on her ass in no time. Same as that pissant Mayor. He needs to be replaced, too.

  There had to be a way to hurry this along.

  The wait was getting on nerves already stretched too thin.

  But how?

  Another victim. One who made life miserable for everyone.

  That should work.

  And it would make that crowd out there scream for their inept sheriff to be replaced.

  Catch me. Catch me. Putting the words to a tune, the killer sang, “Catch me if you can, Sheriff. Catch me if you can.”

  ****

  The morning was chaos.

  Reporters, microphones, and demanding voices greeted Lynn’s arrival when she got to work. This had to stop. They were too distracting.

  When she’d made her way to the door, she held up her hand to get their attention. “If you will all act like the ladies and gentlemen you are, I’ll be back out in fifteen minutes and give you a statement.”

  A few grumbled their approval. Others glared.

  She stuck her head in Mackenzie’s office only to see he wasn’t at his desk. Darn man, she couldn’t get him out of her head. She’d either dreamed or thought about him the entire night. Not good.

  She went over to her deputy, Janie Seabrook, whom she’d assigned to check the archives for anything or anyone in the past that resembled the victims. “Find anything?”

  Janie turned bloodshot eyes to her boss. “Nothing. And I’m going blind.”

  Lynn patted her shoulder. “You just think you are. Want me to get you relief?”

  “No. It would take too long to clue in a newbie. I’ve gone back ten years. Do you want me to go further?”

  Lynn shook her head. “I think it’s a dead end. Check with Roy. I’m sure he has something more useful he can put you on.”

  “My eyes thank you.”

  Chuckling, she turned to see Patty busy answering phones. She went over and tapped her on the shoulder. “Take a break.”

  Patty finished her conversation and followed Lynn into her office. “Take a seat, Patty.”

  “Have I done something wrong?”

  Lynn wished all her employees were as punctual and thorough as Patty. “Not in the least. I respect your good sense and your intuition. I want to ask you to give me a five minute rundown on anyone in town you think might be capable of this.” Seeing the look of astonishment on Patty’s face, she continued, “I know you well enough to know you’ve thought a lot about this. Even with a full-time job, you belong to every club in town, including three book clubs, the Altar Society at church, and others you’ve mentioned that I’ve forgotten.”

  Patty smiled. “I’m an old maid. I have to stay busy or the house gets to me.”

  She was exaggerating; Patty hadn’t had her fiftieth birthday yet. “Tell me what you think.”

  “You know me pretty well. I’ve thought about the murders until my head about bursts.” She frowned. “I’ve thought of every person I’ve ever met and seen here in Lobster Cove. None of them fit. Whoever it is has to be either crazy or, if Roy is right, insanely jealous of you. I don’t know who that might be. I’m sorry. I really wish I could help.”

  So, Roy couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Who else had he told? “Never mind. It was worth a conversation.”

  Patty went back to her desk. Lynn followed her out the door only to see Mackenzie hurrying her way.

  “I don’t have much to tell the reporters,” she complained. “But I have to tell them something.”

  “You know the drill. Just don’t mention names of anyone we may suspect.”

  “I’m not stupid, Mackenzie.” She was tired of men thinking she was. Every day she had to prove herself all over again.

  “I’ve called a meeting with the coroner, the forensics people who went over the vehicles, and those who searched the area.”

  “When?” she asked, looking at her watch.


  “One this afternoon. It gives me time to pick up Ted Underwood.”

  “Big mistake. But let me do it.”

  “Go with the maybe-you-can-help idea. It’ll get him in here and we can sneak in a few crucial questions.”

  “I’m anxious to see how that goes,” she said before she headed out to meet the reporters. “Wish me luck.”

  “Always.”

  But the way his voice sounded more gruff than normal gave her pause. He’d never used that tone with her before.. Straightening her back, she went to talk to the reporters.

  Right now, she wanted to find a killer and keep Jackie from learning the truth. She didn’t know which she wanted most.

  It was after one by the time Lynn had settled Ted Underwood, a deputy at his elbow, in a small office at the end of the hall. She was running late for the meeting. Convincing Ted’s parents she only wanted him to come in to see if he could give her a hand in the investigation hadn’t been an easy sell.

  “What can Teddy do?” his mother had asked.

  “I’m calling my lawyer,” had been his father’s response.

  Probably for the first time in his life, Ted stood up to his parents. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. You won’t come with me and you won’t call a lawyer.” He’d left them standing there with their mouths open.

  Lynn had wanted to shout her approval.

  With two deputies as backup she’d gotten him to the office under a big, fat, lie. Like Mackenzie, she wanted answers to a few more questions.

  She’d handed him a pad and pen, told him to take notes of everyone who came in to see if he could point to the killer.

  She expected zero results.

  After giving the deputy assigned to him a quick look that told him his job was to keep an eye on Ted, she hurried down the hall to the office she’d assigned Mackenzie.

  The small room was full, but someone had put a pitcher of water on the table with paper cups. Note pads and pens sat in front of each chair.

  “Sorry I’m late,” she said, nodding to all.

  Doctor Dickenson Slade, the coroner, sat at the head of the table. His stern expression told her he didn’t have time for this.

  The forensics guy introduced himself as Agent Frank Steuben.

  Mackenzie introduced Special Agent Gary Larson again. He’d headed up the search team.

  “What have we got?” she asked.

  The coroner went first. He shuffled a few papers before he began. “The tox report proves it was poison that killed all three victims.” He paused as if for effect. Lynn wanted to tell him to stop showboating, but held her tongue. “Narcissus. Or to be more precise, Narcissus poeticus. It has other names as well. Daffodils and jonquils, to name two.”

  There were a few gasps of disbelief. Lynn’s included. She had no idea. Her grandmother had had daffodils in her garden every spring.

  Doc Slade adjusted his bifocals and looked up at them. “In case you didn’t know, every part of the plant is deadly.”

  “How much does one have to ingest for it to be fatal?” Mackenzie asked.

  “A few swallows will cause nausea, severe vomiting, convulsions, paralysis, eventually death.”

  “Jeez!”

  “Exactly,” the doctor continued. “All of the victims were relatively healthy, no other wounds, certainly no defensive ones, which leads one to believe the victims knew the killer.”

  Lynn’s stomach churned. How would they find a killer smart enough to kill over and over, and no one suspect them? Someone they knew.

  More paper shuffling. “The tracks were made by a wheelchair.”

  “What?” Lynn asked. “Are you kidding me? Someone actually pushed the victims to their grave.”

  “Think about it,” the doctor said. “Drive to the path, I wouldn’t call it a road, that leads to the lake, and you’re not that far from the dump site. Put the victim in the chair and off you go.”

  After another pause, he said, “That’s all I have at this time. Of course if snow had been on the ground that theory wouldn’t wash. Since all of the victims disappeared from early spring to late summer it does.”

  Special Agent Gary Larson gave his report. “We searched everything in a five-mile radius from the crime scene. We came up with nothing.”

  “Except for a couple of bottles of unopened beer in the Underwood car, and a dozen bottles of empties, we didn’t find anything either,” Frank Steuban, the forensics guy told them.

  “What about the Sherry Miles pickup?” Lynn asked.

  “Nothing except a couple of suitcases of clothes, a bunch of stuff like toiletries and clothes. Typical things you’d find with someone going back to school.”

  It was what Lynn had expected them to find.

  All eyes turned to Mackenzie. “We’ve checked every facility in town that might carry poison, but came up with nothing. The sheriff has interviewed the same suspects as when the victims first disappeared, Ted Underwood and Clyde Oberson being the main ones. We have nothing on either one.”

  “What led you to suspect the two of them?” Special Agent Larson asked.

  Lynn told them how the two men were investigated when the women disappeared, told of her interview with Ted, even the psychic part. “There are many scenarios where his sister could have angered him enough to kill her. He knew the other two victims.” She wanted to add that she didn’t think him guilty. “I talked to Clyde. Same thing. He knew the victims, Jo worked for him. He had several conversations with Sherry since she wanted to be a doctor, and Clyde’s brother practices medicine in Bar Harbor.”

  “What does your gut tell you?” Mackenzie asked.

  “That they’re both innocent.”

  Special Agent Larson threw a pen across the table. “Then what do we have? Nothing. Who else knew all the victims?”

  “What do you want us to do? Bring in most everyone in town?” Lynn was disgusted with the agents. Where else would they go with this? How far out in left field would they get before they learned the truth?

  “You’re in Lobster Cove,” Mackenzie reminded them. “Every other person here would know the three victims. We can’t bring them in as suspects without having evidence of guilt or they have a really good motive. I want you to consider this one.”

  Everyone sat up straighter. Even Lynn. Who was Mackenzie talking about? Her stomach lurched when she realized who he was going to point his finger at.

  He wouldn’t.

  Mackenzie went to the board. “In July a year ago Josephine Nelson’s husband was given a DUI by Deputy Roy Webb, their neighbor. A good one, by all accounts. According to several witnesses, she came into the office and confronted him. Chewed him out for arresting a neighbor. The tirade lasted for several minutes.” He added Roy’s name, drew a line from Jo’s name to his.

  “Things like that happen all the time,” Lynn reminded him. “As you just said, Lobster Cove is a small town and we tend to know just about everyone in it.”

  “But do they have motive? You’ve told me yourself how ambitious Roy is. Maybe you don’t know the real Roy Webb. Less than a week later, Jo Nelson disappeared.”

  Mackenzie paused a minute before he continued. “A month and a half ago, Kacie Underwood caused a scene in Murphy’s Bar after Deputy Roy Webb arrested several of her friends for brawling. When they were hauled off, she came on to Roy. According to the sheriff’s report, she left lipstick on his collar. What if he got into trouble at home because of this? What if he confronted Kacie about it a couple of days later, told her the next time, he’d put her in jail? What if they got in an argument and he killed her?” He drew another line from Kacie to Roy’s name. “One week. That’s how long after their confrontation that Kacie disappeared.”

  By now, Lynn was fighting the urge to leave the room and throw up. Mackenzie was so wrong. The man he described didn’t fit with the one she knew.

  Not even close.

  He kept going. “Sherry Miles was the first victim. How did she enrage him enough for him
to want her dead?”

  Mackenzie looked over at the group. Lynn did the same. They were enthralled. Stunned, but accepting.

  He’s wrong! She wanted to scream.

  “Let’s see. A week before Sherry disappeared she had a flat on her new truck. Deputy Roy Webb changed the tire, cautioned her to watch where she was driving and went about his business. A couple of days later, Sherry brought him a cake she’d baked just for him as a thank-you. Now, you might be asking yourself, where is there a motive in being a Good Samaritan? But that’s not the end of the story. They were sharing that cake on Roy’s front porch with a cup of coffee when his wife drove up. Did he get in trouble? Did his anger get the best of him?” He looked over at Lynn. “Roy was a good-looking kid. That hasn’t changed. Women still find him attractive. It’s true, he’s pulled himself out of his poor beginnings, but how much of that is because he married the daughter of a successful attorney? He wouldn’t want his position jeopardized by scandal. Or divorce.”

  Lynn couldn’t take it another minute. “Roy Webb isn’t the man you just described. After Roy and Beth married, her dad became ill and her mom couldn’t take care of him, so Roy suggested they move into their house. That was over ten years ago. Both he and Beth took care of her dad until he died. When her mother collapsed and couldn’t get her health back, they took care of her until she passed away. He coaches his son’s soccer team, is a member of the church. I’ve never seen him do anything threatening or involving violence to anyone unless it was in the line of duty. You’re way off base, Mackenzie. You’re going to have to look further than the outer office for your killer.”

  “Sounds like the deputy had means, opportunity and motive,” Special Agent Larson offered.

  Everyone agreed.

  Except Lynn.

  They were wrong.

  She would prove them wrong. And in the process find the real killer.

  Mackenzie taped a large white sheet of paper across his murder board and warned them to keep their suspicions to themselves. He was going to ask the judge for a search warrant. Once they found the poison, they’d Mirandize and question the deputy.

  Not a word until then.

 

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