by David, Kori
“We’re leaving a car and a team member here for Ms. Henner, but I know you’re ready to go. Shall we?”
Good ol’Madge. She never missed a beat. The feeling of being watched slowly faded as they left the arena, and Shelby shook it off as an over-tired imagination. All of their people were checked, and double checked. She had nothing to worry about as long as she stayed with her team. And she had no plans to do otherwise. She might be stubborn about doing these shows, but she wasn’t stupid. She was happy to have extra security. These concerts would be the best of her career. Her fans deserved the best that she had to give, especially since they were her last.
***
Mike was still at the scene as dusk darkened into night. The remains of Tara Shumway had been removed, and they had a positive ID this time, due to Tara’s love of butterfly tattoos. She had several on her body, and all had been found and confirmed.
Casey had packed up and her tech was more than ready to go. He’d been chain smoking by their van for an hour now, waiting on her to finish up.
Mike thought he’d quit about six months ago, but Casey said this case was stressing out the poor guy and he’d picked up the habit again. She had a betting pool going at work on how long he’d make it before he quit the job completely. Casey didn’t think he’d last a full year—he was at eight months now. Looking at him while he paced, Mike thought she might be right. That kid wasn’t cut out for this type of work.
“I’ve got everything,” Casey said, coming up behind him.
“Thanks. Call me if you need anything.”
She put a hand on his arm and squeezed. “You’ll get this guy.”
He looked down into her earnest face. The spikey red hair made her look like a rebellious teenager, especially since she wasn’t wearing any make-up. “Go home and sleep. Your eyes are the color of your hair.”
“Gee, Mike. Is that your way of saying I look like shit?”
“Yeah, it is. Go home. You can let someone else process everything tomorrow.”
“Are you going home?”
They both knew he wasn’t. But not for the reasons she thought. “I’ll get there . . . eventually.”
“Me too.” Then she nodded at Detective Wolfe and left.
“What’s our move, boss?” Daniel said, coming up next to him.
“Have the patrol sergeant start sending his guys home, as soon as a couple more swing shift officers arrive. I want this scene locked up tight in case this bastard comes back to visit.”
“You think he will?”
Mike looked around at the shadows lengthening between the buildings. Traffic horns intermittently blared on the freeway that curved away and to the south of their location. The air smelled like old diesel and rubber, due to the tire recycling plant a block away. It was a desolate place to die. Surrounded by more than a million people, and yet utterly alone in an abandoned warehouse-turned slaughter house. “No, I don’t. I think if he was inclined to visit one of his scenes, it wouldn’t be this one.”
“Because this one’s different?”
“This was about rage and hate. Nothing was staged about this scene. Nothing—beautiful—to him.”
Daniel’s face let Mike know he didn’t like the description, and he didn’t either. But this killer had taken so much time with the other two women, posing them in such a way, as well as tailor designing his own videos that he must consider himself a bit of an artist. To him, the carved-up women and the scenes he staged were his art.
What he considered the mess he’d left here, Mike didn’t know, but he hoped to God that Shelby didn’t get an email of this scene. She already had nightmares as it was, something he’d learned while they were away. “Let’s get out of here. You brought the case file with you?”
Daniel nodded. “I wanted to go over it with you in person.”
“Good. Follow me. I have a meeting to attend, and you might as well come along.”
The drive lasted longer than he was interested in, considering how tired he suddenly was, but the food and company were well worth it. From the truck, he’d called Shelby to make sure they’d made it home safely. The units stationed around her home for extra patrol had already reported in, but he’d wanted to hear her voice.
“I was hoping you’d make it here for dinner,” she said.
“I have some things to do before I can make it.”
“What happened? I can hear in your voice that something’s gone wrong.”
“I’ll tell you about it when I get there.”
“Okay, just be careful. I’ll be waiting up.”
“You should sleep, I can crash on one of the couches in the den.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it, Mike Hanson. You’re so goddamn stubborn.”
The steel in her voice made him smile. She was so feisty when she was riled. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I’ll see you soon.” Then she hung up.
He let her have her way. And she thought he was the stubborn one. That woman put mules to shame.
The lights blazed from the house where he parked. A rental, the house was one of the many his friends used when they all came into Phoenix. It wasn’t quite as large as the one Shelby was staying in, but it was big enough to house three families easily. Which it was at the moment.
Daniel pulled in and joined him at the curb. “Just what kind of meeting are we having?”
“Counsel of war is more apt, but the food will be great.”
The door opened, and a large shadow filled the entrance.
Mike almost started laughing when Daniel uttered a string of curse words under his breath. “Don’t worry, he’s almost over the fact that you had a crush on Elizabeth.”
“I don’t think he’ll ever be over that,” Daniel muttered. “If this comes to blows, I’m blaming you for bringing me here.”
“Come on, Wolfe. Don’t tell me you’re worried.”
“About another pissed-off Marine, especially one that’s bigger than I am? Hell yeah.”
“I won’t let him hurt you.” Mike laughed.
Zach’s frown was ferocious but Mike thought he saw a little bit of humor there as well. “You know Elizabeth will be pissed if you hit him,” he said as he passed the big man.
Zach nodded once and turned back into the house, without saying anything to Daniel.
Mike ushered him inside. “That went better than I expected.”
“If you say so.”
“Just don’t make eye contact with her.”
“How am I supposed to do that?”
The frustration was there in the plaintive question.Mike couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing and patted Daniel on the back. “God only knows.”
The main room was filled with adults and kids running around. Damon and Dani were getting hugs from the kids, while Lily and Elizabeth handed out drinks. Zach hovered over his wife, and Jesse laughed over something Damon said. The atmosphere was happy chaos and Mike could feel his shoulders begin to relax. He’d been tense all day, but Shelby was safe at home and all his friends were in one place.
“Daniel,” Elizabeth exclaimed in delight. “I didn’t know you were coming.” She smiled and started toward him, only to stop, turn, and go back toward her husband. Planting a hand on one hip and using the other to beckon her husband’s head down to hers, she whispered in his ear.
Mike was amused to see that everyone in the room had gotten quiet just in time to hear her say that he’d better not hit the man who’d been heroic enough to take a bullet for her.
“And I love you,” she finished off her speech with a nod.
Daniel’s face was priceless and a little red around the ears. And then everyone started laughing and talking at once. A few moments and a couple of introductions later, they all settled down to have burgers and hotdogs, and no one ended up in a fight.
Mike separated his friends from their wives after dinner, and they headed out to the casita in the backyard.
The men were all business as soon
as the door closed. Even Zach.
“Thank you all for being here,” Mike said.
“Hey,” Damon said, “we all owe you one. This is what we’re here for.”
“Just tell us what you need,” Jesse said.
Mike looked around at his friends. The best group of guys he’d ever known. He was damned lucky to have these men on his side. And now that they were all together, he felt more confident that he could protect Shelby and Rebecca. Five ex-Marines against one psychopath.
That asshole didn’t have a chance.
Chapter 16
“So you think Rebecca’s father was this Charles Weston?” Mike asked.
He looked around the table at his friends. They had schematics of the arena, a plan for Shelby’s protection, and even an escape route if necessary. Nothing was left to chance. The wives and kids had been upgraded to the VIP section for the Sunday night show, per Shelby and Madge, so they would be in one place for safety.
And having Zach standing guard meant no one was getting through. Period.
With security settled, they’d turned to the mystery surrounding Rebecca’s father and how this killer was connected. Because it was becoming clear that somehow, this was all part of the same big picture.
Damon nodded and pulled out a piece of paper. “And if Shelby wants to be sure, we can match up Rebecca’s DNA to his because it’s on file now.”
Daniel pulled out the folder with his notes and a couple of faxes in it. “That’s the name I came up with while I was hunting down that chinchilla hair. Not much call for chinchilla pets in Nashville so the store owner still had receipts for his sales going back a couple of years. Charles Weston has a matched set, and he was fanatical about their food and cages. I wanted to run the details by you before having Nashville PD check it out, but if he’s dead, then I’m out of ideas.”
“So who has the chinchillas now?” Jesse asked.
“And who’s Nashville’s suspect in that homicide?” Mike asked.
“I think it’s the same person,” Damon said. “And I think he’s your killer here in Phoenix.”
“This sounds like the opening of one of Beth’s books. We need beer. Who wants one?” Zach asked. He returned with five long-necks and passed them around. “Okay, continue.”
Damon mock-saluted with his beer. “Charles Weston was a semi-talented musician with a drinking problem. He’d been fired from almost every job he had due to his alcoholism and history of violence. But, he was good looking and a ladies’ man, according to the folks we tracked down. So with a little charm, he talked himself into every job easily. Especially, when a woman was in charge of the hiring.”
“So he was on tour with Shelby’s opening act for about a year?” Mike asked. That must have been how he’d made contact with Abby. “Who hired him?”
“The stage manager at the time was a woman.” Damon looked through his papers and nodded. “But Madge had him fired for his constant absences and the other stage manager as well, because he wasn’t her first bad hire.” He flipped the page and looked over more of his notes. “He worked locally as a lighting technician when no one would hire him as a musician any longer.”
“So who killed Abby? Charles or the man who killed him?” Zach wondered.
“No way to know, but either Charles did in one of his violent moments or the new guy did, maybe because of Charles,” Mike said.
Jesse sighed. “Without her body, nothing can be proved anyhow. The theories are all supposition on our part.”
“The question is, who did Charles trust enough to let into his home for a good length of time?” Daniel asked. He’d been quietly reading the reports from the homicide scene. “Because the boxes of food and trash all around were there before the murder, not after like they originally thought. So his killer was living with him.”
Damon beamed at the man before he looked over at Mike. “I like him, he’s quick. Glad you’re on board with us,” he said to Daniel.
And if Zach rolled his eyes, no one said anything, but Mike grinned.
“That was my question as well,” Damon said. “So we started looking into his family and came up with very little. His parents are dead, but an estranged aunt had a son about ten years younger than Charles. Weird thing was that, we couldn’t find any information on the cousin. It’s like he’d just fallen off the face of the planet, until we started looking out of state.”
“His name is Larry Ashbrooke, and he’s been in and out of psych hospitals his entire life for schizophrenia with violent tendencies. His fingerprints were at the apartment, and he has a record with the state, so the police made the match. They have him down as a person of interest, but there’s no evidence he killed Charles, only that he was in the apartment. And since he hasn’t been located, he’s a dead end.”
“Damn,” Mike said. “That fits though. Two crime scenes were calm and calculated, but the last one was a nightmare, completely disorganized. A schizophrenic couldn’t control himself all the time, especially if he gets mad.”
“We found a retired case worker who opened up, doctor to doctor, with Dani. This kid was a mess and had some kind of hero worship of his cousin, Charles. Apparently, Larry spent summers with Charles and his parents up until the age of thirteen. At which point, something happened to send Larry into a psych hospital until he was eighteen and legally could check himself out, pending doctor approval.”
“Jesus Christ,” Jesse said. “Some doctor let that messed-up kid out into the world after being locked up for five years?”
“And how long ago was that?” Daniel asked.
But Mike had a feeling he already knew. It all made sense in some weird way. The hero worship, the mental instability, the violence. This was the guy.
Damon looked up from what he was reading. “Three months before Abby disappeared and Charles was killed.”
“I don’t suppose you have a current picture?” Zach asked. He’d been fairly quiet through the whole recitation.
“Wouldn’t that be easy? But no, not a single one,” Damon confirmed. “If his mother had anything, then it was lost long ago. She died when her house caught fire about a year after she had Larry committed. She was into mixing alcohol with her pain pills, so when she passed out with a lit cigarette, the whole house went up. And Charles didn’t have anything remotely sentimental. Not even pictures of his own parents.”
Mike finished his beer and started to pace. “So Charles was obsessed with Shelby Lynn for either a conquest or whatever, but he never acted on what he felt and instead dated Abby. Maybe he talked to his cousin about his obsession and his affair with Shelby’s best friend. Maybe he talked about it so much the obsession became Larry’s as well.”
Jesse picked up where he left off. “So if Shelby becomes Larry’s obsession, then Charles is now a rival because he talks incessantly about it. Probably even more when he’s drunk. So Larry kills the rival but takes the cuddly little chinchillas?”
“You want to make sense of crazy guy who just murdered his only living relative?” Zach, as always, cut straight to the heart of the issue. “He probably wasn’t allowed any pets in the psych ward. Who knows, maybe they’re some kind of present for Shelby.”
“We called the hospital where Larry lived,” Damon said. “One of those fancy places that look more like a country club than a sanatorium. His mother had plenty of money and as her beneficiary, he had his room paid for until he turned eighteen. At which time he inherited the bulk of the money left over.”
“They teach computer hacking at those places?” Daniel asked. “Because that email virus he sent to erase Shelby’s email was pretty damned sophisticated for someone in a psych ward most of his teenage years. And how has he stayed so close to her? Is he just following the tour, or is he involved in the process somehow?”
“Well, not hacking, but they do teach computer skills, as well as a host of other things. The place is like a technical school,” Damon said. “They prepared him for his adult life and an entry level posit
ion for a job. By all accounts, he was a very polite and apt pupil.”
“Until he started killing people,” Mike said. “We need to find out how he’s following her because if he’s with the tour somehow, then that’s more of a problem than we first thought.”
And something they needed to figure out immediately.
The casita-turned-war room was a studio-size apartment and was stocked with chips, beer, and other snacks. Perfect for five guys with a mission. Mike had the background checks on all the employees of Shelby’s tour, courtesy of Madge. They divvied them up, and each took a chair to start reading.
The night would be long, but it didn’t matter. They were helping Mike figure this out. And he was confident they would.
Two hours went by before they got something, and Daniel was the one who found it in the last file on his lap. The rest of the guys still had two or three to go. “I think this might be it.”
Mike looked up. “Whatcha got?”
“Guy by the name of Robert Charleston, goes by Bobby. He was hired on with the road crew one year ago, but that’s not what bothers me. His date of birth puts him in his thirties, but he doesn’t have any previous job experience. The note on the side of the application says he wasn’t qualified for anything more than baggage handling for the crew, but he was an earnest kid who looked like he’d be a hard worker.”
“So what’s a guy in his thirties doing with no job experience? And how did the age get overlooked? The note makes it sound like he’s a kid,” Zach asked.
Mike had a laptop at the table where he’d been sitting. “Give me the full name and date of birth.”
Daniel rattled it off and then kept reading. “I think we should call Madge and see if she knows this guy or can refer us to whoever the stage manager is.”
“In the meantime, keep reading through the rest of the files. I want to make sure everyone else is squeaky clean,” Mike said.
While the guys went back to reading, Mike opened up a secure email to a buddy that worked at the Pentagon. They’d been friends for a number of years, and Mike had given him some valuable intel a couple of times. Needless to say, when Mike asked for information, it came back quickly. About thirty minutes elapsed and by that time, the files had been read over thoroughly and no one else seemed suspicious. The background checks had been competent, but no check was full proof. Those checks were for criminal activity, current warrants, or time served, transgressions of that nature.
