by D. K. Hood
When both men took the cards and nodded, Kane strolled back to his vehicle. He slid behind the wheel and turned the key, looking at Wolfe. “We have another woman who was molested as a child. Her name is Angelique Booval. The incident happened eight years ago in Blackwater. There would have been a trial—the man charged was Stewart James Macgregor. See what you can find out.”
“Do we add her to our suspect list?”
Kane backed the car onto the busy road then spun the wheel and headed out of town. “I think anyone with a motive should be considered. Angelique Booval became unstable after Macgregor kidnapped her, and if she noticed Price acting inappropriately with kids, she could be out for revenge.”
“Well, this is interesting.” Wolfe’s blond eyebrows rose above the screen of his cellphone. “I discovered where Macgregor last worked before his arrest and googled the company. It seems a company by the name of Party Time employs Macgregor and Price. The company’s main business is supplying acts, clowns, magicians, Santa Claus, and all kinds of characters for kids’ parties and for festivals in at least three local towns including here and Blackwater. I’ve checked out the list of employees on their website against the sexual offenders register and they all come up clean apart from Macgregor.” He held up the screen of his cellphone. “See, Stu Macgregor is still listed as available in a limited capacity street license entertainment, only no kids’ parties. He is a low-risk sexual offender. I doubt he gets much work.”
“That’s interesting.”
“Yeah, and I have Rosemarie Harper’s number.” Wolfe glanced at him. “Want to speak to her now?”
“Yeah.” He pulled the car to the side of the road and took Wolfe’s phone.
A woman answered after a couple of rings.
“Am I speaking to Rosemarie Harper? Good, this is Deputy Kane from the Black Rock Falls Sheriff’s Department. I need to ask you a few things in the strictest of confidence.”
He asked her a few questions then disconnected and handed back the cellphone. “That is too crazy to explain right now. I’ll fill you in after I’ve run it past the sheriff.” He turned the SUV back onto the highway and accelerated.
“Sure.” Wolfe took the phone and smiled at him. “I do understand the term ‘confidential.’”
About five miles out of town, Kane turned the SUV into the parking lot of the Triple Z bar and pulled into a space. He turned in his seat and stared at the cellphone. “I wonder how many of the men working at Party Time have priors.”
“I’ll check them out the moment we get back to the office.”
“From what we know about Price, he didn’t work alone. It’s more than likely he has been doing this for a long time and could have also been involved in the Angelique Booval kidnapping, but she only mentioned one man— Stu Macgregor. It is something we have to consider as they worked together and were both pedophiles.” Kane opened the car door. “He would have worked the festivals here and in Blackwater. Miss Booval might have caught sight of him in costume and it triggered a memory. Although his type of murder takes a lot of planning.”
“She could have identified him years ago and she’s had years to plan his murder.” Wolfe snorted. “It’s not something a person gets over easy.”
Kane led the way into the Triple Z and strolled up to the bar. In his peripheral vision, he noticed men slipping out the back door and smiled to himself. He had bigger fish to fry.
“What can I get you?” The man behind the counter rubbed a filthy rag over the bar, avoiding his gaze.
“Information.” Kane straightened. “Do you have a customer with a black widow tattoo on his hand?”
“If I did, I wouldn’t tell you.” The barman snorted in disgust. “We don’t rat on our friends.”
“Okay, I’ll take a look for myself.” Kane turned and glanced over the room. He moved closer to Wolfe. “Split up and take a look. I doubt we’ll find anything.”
After moving through the eight men in the bar, they returned to the vehicle and found a woman wearing tight cutoff jeans, a shirt that left nothing to the imagination, and red stilettos leaning against the door. Kane touched his hat. “Do you want to speak to me, ma’am?”
“You asked about a black widow tattoo?”
“Yeah, do you know the name of the man who has one?”
“Nothing’s free.” She pushed out her chest and winked at him. “Fifty bucks.”
Kane barked out a laugh. “Twenty.” He slid a bill from his wallet and dangled it in the air “Take it or leave it.”
“Okay. Some years ago, maybe as long as six, a biker gang called the Black Widows used to come here from Blackwater. They all had those tattoos on their hands.” She pointed one red-tipped fingernail between her thumb and first finger. “Right here but I haven’t seen any of them for years.” She plucked the twenty out of Kane’s fingers then turned and sashayed away.
Kane rubbed his chin and stared after her. “It seems every clue we have leads to Blackwater.”
11
She strolled in the park, and to all around her, she would appear to be one of the crowd eating cotton candy and enjoying the festivities. The smell of hotdogs and horse manure filled the air as she lingered at the pony rides. She had seen Deputy Kane chatting to the clowns earlier. He had given them his card and smiled then scurried away. She had stared after him and a shiver of hate ran through her. He could be one of the monsters. A man in a position of power was someone no one would ever expect. He had no wife and never dated. That made him a prime candidate. Maybe she would follow him for a while and see what he was doing in town today. I can see you, Deputy Kane, and I’m watching you.
She needed an excuse to move into the pony circle to keep Kane in sight and sidled closer to a clown lifting a child onto a small bay pony. Touching the horse’s mane, she feigned interest. “How long will you be here? I would love to bring my little sister for a pony ride. She just adores clowns.”
“For the entire festival.” The clown had a French accent.
“Oh, thank you.” She smiled warmly. “We always had clowns for my sister’s birthday parties. Do you do kids’ parties?”
“Sometimes, but we prefer the festivals.” He indicated to the line of kids waiting for rides. “I gotta go.”
“Oh yes, of course.” She smiled but inside her skin crawled.
Her attention fixed on Kane, she walked slowly back through the crowd and took a seat on the far side of the pony rides beside a frazzled mother with three demanding children. From here, she could keep a close eye on Kane’s movements. When he headed for his car, she got to her feet, intent on following him. She needed to know what he was doing and who he had on his list of suspects. As she walked to her vehicle, she glanced at her watch. Goosebumps rose on her arms with the thrill of anticipation. Soon she would meet the next monster on her list. He had been such an easy man to catch. She had played him at his own game, fed his ego, and the jerk had agreed to meet her.
By the morning, another monster would be dead.
12
Jenna lifted her attention to the two new deputies. Cole Webber, twenty-eight, with brown hair and brown eyes, introduced himself with a soft New England accent. He had transferred to Black Rock Falls from Boston, and having another experienced deputy would be useful.
Standing, she took in the man before her, noting his confidence. She offered her hand. “Welcome to Black Rock Falls. Do take a seat.”
“I’m glad to be here, ma’am.”
She turned her attention to Paula Bradford, five seven with blonde hair and green eyes. This rookie had started her career in law enforcement only six months previously in Helena. “It’s a big step for you to leave your family and come here.” She shook the woman’s hand.
“I come from a large family and solitude in a small town will be heaven, ma’am.” Paula smiled then sat down. “Thank you for arranging the accommodation. My apartment is very nice.”
“Yes, thank you.” Webber gave her a strange look. “Although, I
gather from the neighbor, the house once belonged to a deputy killed in the line of duty.”
Jenna cleared her throat. “Yes, Pete Daniels was a valued member of our team but he wasn’t killed in the house and his family donated the property to the department.”
“Are his killers in jail?”
“They’re dead.” Jenna’s mind flashed back to the crunch of bone as her heel killed her attacker. A knife held at her throat, the discharge of a weapon, and blood on her face. Her hands trembled at the disturbing memory and she bunched them into fists.
“Jenna?” Kane’s worried voice broke through the terrifying visions playing in a loop in her mind.
She blinked and, seeing him filling the doorway, noticed the confused expressions on her new deputies’ faces. Oh, God, how long have I been out this time? Forcing the horrific memories back into their box, she forced her lips into a smile. “Deputy Kane, I’d like you to meet Cole Webber and Paula Bradford. They will be starting tomorrow. I’ll need everyone pulling overtime this weekend. Can you ask Wolfe to bring them up to speed? I’d like an update from you as soon as you’re finished.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ve spoken to Rosemarie Harper.” Kane’s concerned gaze moved over her face as he placed a takeout cup of coffee and a paper sack from Aunt Betty’s Café on her desk. “I picked up your lunch.”
She glanced at the clock; it was past two. “Thanks, I’ve been busy.” She glanced at her two new deputies. “See you in the morning.”
When the door closed, Jenna covered her face with both hands. The flashbacks of her kidnapping and near death had lessened but obviously sat in the back of her subconscious waiting to pounce at any given moment. She felt such a fool, acting like an idiot in front of her new deputies, but Kane would cover for her—he had been her rock throughout the entire ordeal.
She leaned back in her seat and sipped her coffee then peeked into the bag and smiled. Turkey on rye, her favorite. She took a bite and the door opened. Kane walked back in and dropped into a chair. Swallowing, she smiled at him. “Thank you. I didn’t notice the time.”
“Are you okay, Jenna?”
She waved his question away. “Fine, we were discussing Pete’s death and I had a flashback. I hope it didn’t last too long.”
“I don’t think so.” Kane’s lips twitched into a half smile. “Webber thought you were grief-stricken discussing Pete’s death and feels like a heel for bringing up the subject. I know we are all sorry about what happened to Pete but you really need to see someone about the flashbacks and nightmares. Post-traumatic stress disorder isn’t a myth, it needs to be treated.”
“You can talk. The other night during the movie you dozed off then woke up and grabbed me by the throat, if you remember.”
“That was a nightmare, not PTSD.” Kane grinned at her. “I wasn’t in Afghanistan. I was defending you against a zombie. I shouldn’t watch shows with zombies. Next time you want to come over to watch a movie, I’m picking it, okay?”
“Sure.” She sucked the mayonnaise from her fingers and looked at him. “Forget movies for a minute. What else did you find out today?”
Kane gave her the details of the clown’s sister, the Party Time connection between Macgregor and Price, and his visit to the Triple Z Bar. “We checked about half of the local businesses and asked the waitresses at Aunt Betty’s Café. Susie Hartwig came up with someone with the tattoo. She danced with a blond man at the rodeo dance last summer with a similar tattoo but she can’t recall anything else; she thinks she has seen him in town. She said he was rough and smelly. He had strange eyes. I tried to push her to give me a more detailed description but she only said he was around fifty and had a beer belly.”
“Okay, that’s a start.” Jenna heaved a sigh. “I couldn’t get into the sealed files of Lizzy Harper’s court case, so I have zip.”
“I have another bit of information.” Kane’s eyebrows furrowed. “I called Rosemarie Harper and told her we were investigating a case similar to her daughter’s and needed her help. She backed away at first but when I mentioned more than one man appeared to be involved, she opened up. She recently discovered her husband was not the father of Lizzy’s son. The kid became ill a year ago and has a genetic disease. The doctor performed a DNA test and the kid has a different father. As Lizzy refuses to tell anything about her ordeal apart from a few sketchy details, her mother believes this is proof she was subject to more than one man’s abuse.”
“That’s frightening.” She nibbled at her sandwich. “Anything else?”
“Since killing her father, Lizzy is under treatment and on medication for behavioral problems. I can place her in the area during the time we have for Price’s death. The Harpers live one block away from the crime scene.”
Jenna sighed. “All circumstantial. I need proof.”
“I don’t have proof but a theory. Many people in town use the Harpers’ cleaning service for kids’ parties and it is reasonable to assume they would run into the entertainment. It’s possible, and as Price’s contact details are online, maybe Lizzy pretended to be a kid he’d met as a clown and asked him to meet her at the house.”
Jenna nodded. “It’s feasible. She did have a master key to the house but how did she lure him there? Would she know about those online chat rooms you mentioned?”
“Yeah, if she watched TV, I’m sure she would be aware of the danger of chat rooms for kids.” His brow creased. “It’s common knowledge predators pretend to be kids online. There are so many groups on Facebook alone and the FBI can’t monitor them all. She would just use a ‘come get me’ username and they would flock to her.”
Jenna sipped her coffee and observed him over the rim. “The problem is widespread. I researched the frequency of cases today and there are literally thousands ongoing in the state. It’s like an epidemic.”
As a shadow darkened her doorway, she glanced up to see Rowley. “Yes?”
“I have Mr. Stickler in the interview room.” Rowley’s eyebrows rose. “He came in without a problem but seems a little confused about why you want to speak to him.” He walked toward the desk and placed a sheet of paper in front of her. “Here is the list of tradespeople the real estate agency uses for the properties they manage. The ones highlighted are those who worked at the crime scene.” He met her gaze. “Another thing I found interesting: The properties owned by Rockford were all rentals and managed by the agency. The same master key accesses them all. The cleaning service has one of the keys, and so does Stickler.”
“Okay, thanks.” She glanced at Kane and stood. “I’ll add that info to the whiteboard now and add it to the case file later. We need to speak to Mr. Stickler without delay.” She scribbled on the whiteboard then hurried from the room.
In the interview room, Stickler sat hands clasped on the table and looking nervous. The smell of sweat drifted toward Jenna as she entered the room. Stickler, in his early twenties, was lean and muscular. Jenna sat down and smiled at him. “Thank you for coming in. This is Deputy Kane.” She waved a hand toward him. “Do you mind if we record the interview?”
“What’s this all about?” Stickler’s expression was grim. “I haven’t done anything wrong.” He brushed at the beading sweat on his upper lip with trembling fingers. “Okay, record the interview but I want it known you haven’t read me my rights.”
You sure look like you have something to hide. She turned on the recorder. “I haven’t arrested you, Mr. Stickler. This is just a friendly chat. If I did arrest you then I would read you your rights. What you tell us today would not be admissible in court.” She smiled. “For the record, it is two thirty and in the room with Mr. Adam Stickler is Sheriff Jenna Alton and Deputy David Kane. Mr. Stickler has volunteered to speak to us today.” She glanced at her notes then lifted her gaze to Stickler. “Miss Alison Saunders, from the real estate office, discovered the body of a man in the house at 3 Maple Lane. I gather you did some work there recently?”
“A body? Anyone I know?” The color drained fr
om his face.
“Just answer the question.” Kane crossed his arms across his wide chest and glared at him.
“Yeah, I had to attach new handles to the kitchen cabinets. I finished last week on Friday morning.”
Jenna leaned forward. “Were you there before the cleaners? I mean, did the place look as if it had been cleaned prior to an inspection?”
“Nope, I was there before the cleaners. Miss Saunders told me to be out of there by noon. I left around eleven.”
“Can you account for your movements between Friday last week and Wednesday of this week?”
“Yeah, I worked Saturday over at Blindman’s Peak on old Mr. Starkey’s roof. I was there all day. Spent Sunday with my folks. Monday through Thursday I went back to finish Mr. Starkey’s roof.” Stickler eyed her with suspicion, took out his cellphone, and scrolled through the screen. “I can give you their numbers and you can check.”
Jenna took down the numbers. “Do you know a man by the name of Amos Price?”
“Nope.” Stickler stared at her and a small shadow of doubt crossed his eyes. “Just a minute, yeah, I do know that name. I’m pretty sure he is the clown my parents hired for my sisters’ birthday parties when we lived in Blackwater.” He narrowed his gaze. “I’m the eldest of seven, six girls and me.”
“Yeah, that’s him. He was found dead in the house on Maple.” Kane rubbed the dark stubble on his chin. “Are you aware Amos Price was a pedophile?”
“No!” A look of anguish crossed Stickler’s face. “Sweet Jesus, do you think he was involved with my sister’s disappearance?”
Jenna filled a glass with water and pushed it toward him. “I’m not sure. Did you know your mother filed a complaint against him for inappropriate behavior?”
