by Greg Herren
I felt a cold chill go down my spine.
“Go on.” Jephtha urged.
The next page was another newspaper clipping. Six years ago, Tim Dahlke had been shot to death in his house. There were no signs of forced entry. Nothing had been stolen. There were no leads.
There was one more piece of paper in the folder. I looked at the last one. TWO KILLED IN MYSTERIOUS FIRE: Victims were Emporia State Dean and his wife.
“Holy shit.” I looked at Jephtha.
He nodded, his eyes dancing. “I tried to find out what happened to Karen Zorn, but she disappeared after she dropped out. I couldn’t find a trace of her anywhere.”
Freddy was the only one left alive.
“Thanks, Jephtha. Send me a bill.” I clapped him on the shoulder. “You should think about getting a private eye license. This is some really good work. I’ll be in touch.”
I walked outside and stood in the sunshine for a moment.
I had to find Karen Zorn.
There was no way it was a coincidence that everyone involved in the cover-up of the rape had died under mysterious circumstances.
By the time the killings had started, Freddy was a movie star and not easily accessible. His stardom had, in a way, saved his life.
So far.
Outside, I stood for a moment. I dialed Loren. I got his cell phone.
“Hey, Loren, this is Chanse MacLeod. Tell Freddy and Jillian I want to meet with them.” I took a deep breath. “Tell them I know about Karen Zorn.”
I closed my phone and went home.
Chapter Twelve
Maybe the reason Karen Zorn had disappeared was because no one had found her body.
The thought hit me as I was driving up Camp Street. It caught me so offguard I almost hit a parked car. But it made sense. Three of the men involved in the rape and cover-up were dead. She’d disappeared. Out of everyone involved, the only person still accounted for was Freddy Bliss—the one person who had the most to lose.
It made more sense that Karen had been killed than that she was the killer.
E-mails alluding to the rape had been sent from Glynis’s computer, and she’d been murdered.
All roads led back to Freddy Bliss.
The hyena pack in front of my house wasn’t as big as it had been when I left for the gym, but they still swarmed my car as I turned into the driveway. I turned up the stereo so I couldn’t hear anything they were shouting at me. I parked in my spot and ran for the back stairs. The shouting died away once I was out of their sight.
I headed straight to my computer, and logged into the Internet. I opened the folder Jephtha had given me. Damn, he’d done a good job. I did a directory search for Zorns in Olpe, Kansas. About ten listings came up. I started dialing. I struck oil on the sixth call.
“Karen?” a tired female voice asked in a flat Midwestern accent. “What has she done now?”
“I’m just trying to find her.” I replied. “Do you know how I can get hold of her?”
“I haven’t talked to her in years, and good riddance, thank you very much.” She sighed.
“Mrs. Zorn—”
“What has she done now?” The voice was resigned. “I can’t say as I’m surprised to hear she’s done something else. Lord, what a trial that child has been to me, she’s been nothing but trouble since the day I got pregnant.” She gave a great heaving sigh. “Them pro-life people can carry all the signs they want to, and I know it’s a sin and murder and all, but I should’ve had an abortion, is what I should have done. If I knew then what I know now…”
Whoa. “Mrs. Zorn—“
“You know, I got pregnant when I was in high school.” She went on as though I hadn’t said a word. I got the feeling she’d just been waiting for an audience to come along. Now that she had one, she was going to cut loose and let it all hang out. “Her daddy didn’t want to marry me, of course, but his daddy and my daddy made him do the right thing by me. And back then I thought abortion was murder, the nuns said so and the nuns were supposed to know, so I had that damned baby. Talk about being punished for your sins for the rest of your life! The marriage was a mistake—he made it clear he thought I got pregnant just so he’d have to marry me. Wasn’t that a nice thing to say to me? His wife? The mother of his child? And then he went and got himself killed in a car accident.” She made it sound as if he’d done it deliberately, to punish her. “So, what has she done now? Something terrible, I’ll bet. I was probably too easy on her. I should have beaten some sense into that girl. I don’t care what Father Manion said, it says right there in the Bible you spare the rod you spoil the child.”
Oh my God, what a horrible woman. I broke into her tirade. “I’m, um, actually just looking for some background information—“
“Well, what do you want to know? Speak up. You want to know what she was like? She was a horrible child, always causing trouble. She cried all night when she was a baby. I used to pray for guidance, for some relief, but no, she would just scream and scream and scream.” She sounded aggrieved, like the baby had done it just to spite her. “And it didn’t change as she got older, you know. She was always a handful. Always into everything, always getting in trouble—and if she didn’t get her way, she would just scream and throw a tantrum, no matter how hard I spanked her. I could never believe a word that came out of her mouth. She lies as easily as she breathes. She believes her lies, even when you catch her at them, catch her red-handed, she’ll look you right in the face and lie to you all over again. Like that time she claimed she was raped.”
“I beg pardon?” My mind was reeling. This woman should have never been allowed to have a child. My sympathy for Karen was growing.
“I said, like the time she claimed she was raped.” Irene went on, her tone making it clear she thought I was an idiot. “I broke my butt working two jobs to pay for her to go to the college over in Emporia. She wanted to go to college, of course—getting a job and working hard wasn’t good enough for her, you know, even though she wasn’t a good student—she never was much good at anything, to tell the truth, wouldn’t even do her chores around the house, to help me out so I could come home from work and just relax, you know? I worked hard. And she could just drive there—even though the car I got her of course wasn’t good enough for her— and live at home to save money, so of course I sent her to Emporia State.” Her voice clearly showed she thought I was an idiot. “It’s only about ten miles down the road. But that wasn’t even good enough for the ungrateful little bitch.” She let out a heavy sigh. “And then after she was caught in her lies there, she dropped out and went to work. Wasted all that money, and you think she offered to pay me back? Of course not, not Little Miss It’s-All-About-Me.”
I interrupted her, before she launched into another tirade. “You said she claimed she was raped?”
“Yes, I said it twice, I believe. Aren’t you listening to me?” Her voice rose in agitation. “She went to some damn fool fraternity party. I told her and told her, those fraternity boys are nothing but trouble, everybody knows that. Find some nice Catholic boy, I told her, but oh, no! She couldn’t be bothered with a nice boy. Probably had some damned fool idea one of them rich boys would marry her. Huh. There’s only one thing rich boys want from girls like Karen, and it isn’t to marry them, I can tell you that.” She paused for a moment, and I could hear her breathing into the phone. I was about to ask another question when she started talking again.
“The Sigma Pis, I think it was. She came home early one morning and told me someone drugged her at a party and some boy raped her in his room while some other boys watched! How my heart broke for my poor baby! I was furious. So Monday morning, I marched right into that dean’s office and filed a complaint. Had to take the day off from work, and for what? More of her lies. Turns out she’d been stalking the boy, telling people they were in love, and threw herself at him at the party. There were witnesses. And not just the boys, either. Some of the girls at the party said so, too. Everything she’d said t
o me was a lie. That boy just didn’t want her, and she wanted to make trouble for him. I have never been so embarrassed in my life. Turned out she was doing all these things for him—and sleeping with him, and she made up her mind that he loved her and was going to marry her—and it was all in her head.” She snorted. “If only she hadn’t been too old to spank!
“The dean threatened to expel her…I lost a day’s work so I could go be humiliated. That was when I was done with her, you know. I told her to pack her stuff and get out of my house. And do you think she was even sorry? She wasn’t.” She sighed. “I’ll carry that boy’s name with me to the grave. It was Ricky—Ricky Osborne.” She made another noise. “I think he was from Newton? Such a nice, handsome boy he was. Very respectful to me, and apologetic. And once he got those braces off his teeth, he’d be a real lady-killer. I suppose that’s why Karen tried what she did.”
“Thank you, Ms Zorn, you’ve been very helpful. Do you have a picture of Karen you can fax or e-mail to me?” I crossed my fingers.
“I don’t have a fax machine and I don’t have a computer.” She whined. “I guess I could have my brother do it. Where should I send it to?”
I gave her both my e-mail address and my fax number.
“If you see her you tell her to call her mother. I haven’t talked to her in at least ten years, and my health isn’t good.” She whined. “I’m ready to let bygones be bygones.
“I’ll do that. Thank you, Mrs. Zorn.” I hung up the phone.
I went to a search engine for private eyes, and typed in KAREN ZORN, OLPE KANSAS, and the year of her birth. My phone rang as I waited for the results to come up. It was Paige. I flipped it open. “Hey, Paige, you’re not going to believe…”
“I just quit my job.” She interrupted me. Her voice was shaking. “That fucking bitch Coralie…”
“What the hell happened?” I didn’t know what to say. Paige loved her job.
“She killed my story, that’s what. That has never happened to me once in all the years I have worked at that fucking newspaper. And when I asked her why, she told me that it wasn’t in the quote paper’s best interests to run a story so critical of Frillian unquote. I told her to shove Frillian up her ass, and then I quit.” She sighed. “It was a matter of time, really, and better to quit now than keep being driven insane by her incompetence.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Crescent City magazine offered me their editor-in-chief position earlier this week.” She exhaled. “I told them I’d think about it—thank God I didn’t just say no. Anyway, how did things go with the trainer?”
I filled her in on everything I’d uncovered thus far, and when I finished, she said grimly, “So our Freddy is a rapist? Can’t wait for that bitch Coralie to find out about that.”
“Accused rapist.” I corrected her. “And possibly a murderer, to boot.”
“Well, I didn’t get anything of use out of either the maid or the massage therapist.” She replied. “They liked Glynis, thought she was really nice, blah blah blah. They didn’t much care for Rosemary, though. There was nothing specific, really, they just didn’t like her. What’s next?”
“Well, I’m waiting to see if Loren calls me back.”
“Don’t do anything stupid, Chanse.” She warned. “You should give all of this to Venus and Blaine and let them handle it. Don’t go meet with Frillian. They’re dangerous, obviously.”
“Okay.” I said noncommittally. “What’s next for you?”
“I’m going to go interview Rosemary, I think.”
“Okay, well call me when you’re finished. I’m curious to know what you think of her.”
“All right, later.” She hung up.
I turned back to my computer. The information on Karen Zorn had finished loading. She’d been listed at her mother’s address until she got an apartment in Emporia—right around the time of the rape accusation. Well, that made sense—her mother had said she’d thrown her out. Poor thing, bad enough she was raped and then wasn’t believed, but to have your own mother throw you out over it. But that apartment was the last listing for her, and she had only lived there for a year.
Karen Zorn had disappeared. A year later, the dean and his wife had died in a fire. The next year, Tim Dahlke had died. Another year went by and Bobby Wallace had also died.
All right around the time Freddy Bliss had been launched as a star in Hollywood.
My phone rang again. “MacLeod.”
“Chanse, it’s Loren McKeithen.” He sounded perturbed. “Look, I got your message and I passed it along to Freddy and Jillian. They want you to come by their house. They want to talk.” He paused for a moment. “Who the hell is Karen Zorn?”
“That’s not for me to say.” I replied. “Call them and tell them I’m on my way over.” I hung up.
I made two photocopies of everything Jephtha had given me. I placed them into envelopes. I address one to Venus, care of the French Quarter precinct. The other I addressed to Paige. I stamped them. I walked back into my bedroom and got out my gun. I checked it to make sure it was loaded, and slipped on my shoulder harness. Once it was secured, I put on my black leather jacket and stood in front of the mirror. The jacket had been specially made for me to hide the shoulder holster. I smiled at myself. I would drop the envelopes in the mail on my way to the Quarter. So if by chance I disappeared, they wouldn’t get away with it this time.
I got into my car and drove out of the parking lot, being swarmed again by hyenas. I smiled and waved at them, the stereo blasting. This time I didn’t care if they followed me. There was going to be a much bigger pack of them in front of Frillian’s gate, anyway. In fact, I hoped they did follow me. The main witness, visiting the prime suspect?
I was sure www.tarnishedtinsel.com would have a really good time with that.
I dropped by the post office on my way downtown and dropped the envelopes in the one of the outside drop-boxes. I found a place to park on Touro Street, just inside the Marigny. I crossed Esplanade quickly. Some of the hyenas had followed me, but they were trying to find parking. For the first time in my life I was happy that parking in New Orleans was such a joke. And I’d been right—the pack in front of Frillian’s brick fence was at least five times the size of the one in front of mine. I pushed my way through the crowd, ignoring the cameras and the questions being thrown at me. The gate opened just as I reached it, and I jumped inside. It slammed shut behind me.
“Jeez, someone sure did a number on your face.” Jay Robinette said with a sly leer.
I resisted the urge to put my fist through his smug face. If there had been any doubt in my mind before about his guilt, it was gone now. “So, Jay, how long have you been doing their dirty work for them? It make you feel like a real man to attack someone from behind?”
His face flushed, and he clenched his fists. He stepped toward me. I didn’t flinch or back up. I clenched my own fists. Adrenaline coursed through my entire body. I forgot about the soreness. I forgot about the bruises. Come on, take a swing at me.
The door to the carriage house opened and out of the corner of my eye I saw a young woman walk out with several young children. “Jay! What are you doing!” Jillian shouted.
He relaxed his fists. “They’re waiting for you in the carriage house.”
I laughed. “She’s got you trained better than a pit bull.” I sneered.
His eyes narrowed. “Count your blessings, faggot.”
I walked past him. When I was a few yards past him, I turned back and said with as much contempt as I could, “This faggot is ready for you, fucker. Any time you think you can beat me in a fair fight, bring it on. And I will serve you your balls for dinner.” I waved my hand at him. “Go on back to the kennel. She’ll be whistling for you soon enough.”
I didn’t bother to knock. I just opened the door to the carriage house and walked in. Jillian was pacing in front of the bookcases, a cigarette in her hand. Freddy was sitting on the couch. “You smoke in front of the kids
?” I asked. “Nice.”
Jillian’s head whipped around, her eyes slits. “You can’t talk to me like that.” She hissed.
“I’ll talk to you any way I like.” I replied, sitting down in an easy chair and crossing my legs. I smiled at her. “After all, he’s a rapist and one or both of you is a murderer. Which one of you sent your thug after me last night?”
“What?” Freddy’s face went white. “What are you talking about?”
“Drop the innocent act, Freddy.” I shrugged. “Robinette did this to my face—and he doesn’t do anything without orders from you two.”
“I didn’t—“ Freddy started but Jillian cut him off. “Don’t say anything, Freddy. I’ll handle this.” She crossed her arms. “How much do you want?”
“For what? Keeping his dirty little secret?” I leaned forward in my chair and looked Freddy right in the eyes. “How did it feel to rape Karen Zorn, Freddy? Did it make you feel like a stud, like a man?”
He swallowed. “I didn’t rape her.”
“Shut up Freddy!”
“When exactly did Jillian cut off your balls, Freddy?” I went on. “Was it after Shirley Harris’ private eye found out the truth? Is that when you two decided to start killing people to protect your precious career?”
“I DIDN’T RAPE THAT GIRL!” Freddy shouted. He turned to Jillian. “And don’t you tell me to shut up. I didn’t rape that girl and I didn’t kill anyone.”
“She disappeared, Freddy.” I started ticking things off on my fingers. “Right around the time your career started to take off, Karen Zorn disappeared. Then it was the dean’s turn—he and his wife, killed in a mysterious fire that burned down their house. Then your old fraternity buddy Bobby Wallace—shot and killed in his house by a burglar who didn’t break in and didn’t steal anything. And poor Tim Dahlke—the brake fluid in his car just disappeared two days after it was refilled. And Glynis. People who have access to your secrets have this really strange habit of dying under questionable circumstances.” I shrugged. “Coincidences?”
