With the Eyes of a Killer: A Jessica Roberts Detective Novel

by BJ Wingate

Vanessa sipped her drink as she looked around the room. People talked softly, some held hands across or under the tables. Most were as she feared, couples but there were a few men sitting at the bar alone. At the other end, farthest from herself, were four men talking and being a little loud. From what she could hear they had bet on a game earlier in the day and one of them had won. He was footing the bill for his and the other three men’s drinks.

  Vanessa watched them for a time then let her gaze wander again. One man seated in a booth across from another man was staring at her with a frown on his face. She blinked trying to think if she had ever seen him before but couldn’t remember. He didn’t look familiar but who knows. Perhaps in one of the many bars and taverns she had been too? She gave her head a small shake and looked back at the four men again in time to catch one watching her. He grinned, lifted his beer in a salute and took a drink. Vanessa smiled and sipped her own drink in response. The four men went back to talking and having a good time.

  Vanessa sat there for over an hour alone just watching people and waiting. Every time she glanced at that one booth the man was staring straight at her. It was giving her goose bumps. Finally, she shivered, got up and headed out to her car. As she crossed the parking lot, she heard footsteps behind her and turned. The man from the booth had followed her.

  “I know you, don’t I?” He said as he approached. He stopped maybe three feet away.

  Vanessa frowned. “No, I don’t think so.” She said as she stepped back a bit. He followed.

  “No, I’m sure I know you.” He mentioned a business and Vanessa shook her head.

  “No, I don’t know you or that place.” Vanessa considered turning to leave but was afraid to just turn her back on his guy. She backed up a bit more. There was a lot of empty slots in the parking lot close to her car but still a lot of cars close in. And that corner was fairly dark. She had chosen it for just that reason. She glanced over her shoulder and the man moved in another step. She slid her hand into her purse. “Please, I just want to go home.”

  The man moved suddenly, grabbing her left arm. He seemed angry for some reason. “No, I know it’s you.” He ran his eyes over her slowly and a gleam filled them. “You should dress like this more often. Who knew you hid such … talents?”

  As he moved to close the space between them, Vanessa yanked the knife from her purse and slashed it across his throat. He let go of her arm, grabbed his throat and turned as if to go back to the bar. She reached out, grabbed the back of his jacket and pulled him farther into the darkness. As he fell, she stood over him and kept an eye on the door to the bar. No one came out while the man lay on the ground at her feet bleeding out.

  Vanessa shook her head, leaned down a bit and whispered, “Guess you wish you hadn’t recognized me now.” His hand dropped loose, and his eyes glazed over. She went to her car, got in and drove off.

  Twenty-Two

  Jessica didn’t like being called in the middle of the night, but it was her job, so she got up and went to the scene of yet another killing. This out in the parking lot of a somewhat upscale bar. People stood around watching as Connor and the CSI team did their work even though it was now almost four a.m.

  Jessica walked over to Connor and looked at the victim. “Connor?” He glanced up.

  Standing up so he could keep his voice down, Connor glanced at the crowd behind the tape. “This one is a little different. From the slashing of the throat I’d say it’s the same weapon. But it wasn’t done easily or carefully. It was more of a wild swing if you get my meaning. And you can tell the person was standing directly in front of him. There are void spots.” He pointed them out and Jessica nodded.

  “So, maybe this guy knew the killer? Or approached for some reason and the killer got scared and slashed?” Jessica was looking around the small area as CSI moved around them. Two men came up with a body bag and after getting a nod from Connor, loaded the victim’s body up.

  “I would say so. It even looks as if after this guy’s throat was slashed, he turned and tried to go back to the bar for help. At least that’s my guess.” Connor looked at the crowd again. “Makes you wonder about people. How can they kill one another or even just stand around after someone is killed? Makes no sense to me.”

  Jessica put a hand on Connor’s arm. “Doesn’t make any sense to me either Connor. But it is what it is. Let me know if you find anything on this body, will you?” Connor nodded, packed up his gear and headed out to go with the body back to headquarters.

  With that, Jessica turned and walked over to where Tony was asking the crowd if any of them knew the victim. One man kept staring at the spot where the victim had died so Jessica walked over to him

  “Did you know him?” Jessica nodded her head toward the scene.

  The man nodded and swallowed. “Yeah, we were sitting in the bar and he kept saying there was a lady that he thought he knew sitting at the bar. I never looked around, so I didn’t see her. But when she left, Charles followed her.”

  Jessica made a note on her pad. “Charles?”

  The man nodded. “Yeah, Charles Lawrence. We work … worked together once. He got a new job about a year ago, but we stayed friends.”

  Jessica nodded. “And you are?” She waited for his response.

  For a minute he seemed distracted as he turned to watch the victim’s body being loaded in the van. “Oh, ah, Vincent, Vincent Walters. My friends call me Vinnie.” He turned and looked back at Jessica.

  Jessica made a note of it then asked for his address and added that information. Finally, she glanced at Tony, saw his eyes drooping the way hers felt they should be and decided to finish up so they could leave. Not that Tony couldn’t go home if he wanted but he was dedicated to his job and would never leave her at a crime scene alone. She turned back to Mr. Walters.

  “Mr. Walters, can you tell me anything else? Did Mr. Lawrence say who the woman was? Mention a name? Anything?”

  Vincent shook his head. “No, just that she had everyone at work fooled. I have no idea how or why he thought that, but he was a bit drunk at the time.”

  Jessica nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Walters. I appreciate the help. We might have to contact you again in the future if that is okay?”

  Vincent nodded. “Yeah, sure. I live alone so it won’t be a problem. Here.” He took a business card from his pocket. “That is where I work and has both my work number and my cell number on it. In case you need to get hold of me.”

  Jessica took the card and handed him one of her own. “Call me if anything comes to mind.” Vincent nodded then headed over to a newer coupe that he got into and drove away, being careful of the people still milling or standing around the lot.

  Jessica told the uniforms there to disperse the crowd and to leave the tape up for now. It was a remote corner of the parking lot so was not a remarkably high traffic area.

  * * *

  Alyson went to work her usual time that Monday only to find out that one of their own had been killed over the weekend. Charles hadn’t been the nicest man, but no one deserved to be murdered. Not in her opinion at any rate. She did her job while others walked around talking in whispers and hardly doing what they were being paid for. She noticed the manager watching everyone, but he never said a word. Guess it was his way to let them all grieve a bit. She finished up her workload on time that day, went home and relaxed. She realized that she wouldn’t miss Charles that much. He had often been at the forefront of the verbal abuse she had received at work. Often enough that, in a strange way, she was glad to see him gone. She would probably have preferred he had been fired or simply found another job but still, it might be a little quieter around the office now.

  Twenty-Three

  Alyson got a call from the sleep study people three weeks after her doctor told her about it. They scheduled it for another three weeks away. In some regards that was a good thing, give her time to adjust to the idea of having someone watch her sleep all night or whatever. Yet, in a way, she wished they would have said
to just show up that night to get it over and done with. She marked the day and time on her calendar so she wouldn’t forget and continued her usual routine during the week. Go to work, come home, eat dinner, fall asleep in front of the TV, get up around two or so in the morning and crawl into bed for the remainder of the night.

  On Saturday, Alyson looked up the name and address of the place her mother had been sent to. She had been there roughly a month and a half by now and Alyson had still not gone to see her. Her mother hadn’t bothered to call Alyson either even though she did have phone privileges, so Alyson had been told. Alyson had called the place the week after her mother was admitted checking how she was doing and the nurse who answered had said fine. Then the woman had said that she thought Mary Elizabeth had told Alyson that on the phone. But Alyson had never received even one call from her mother. Now she wondered who Mary Elizabeth had been calling.

  Alyson drove to the place on Saturday afternoon. It was close to lunchtime, so she was hoping to sit with her mother and talk over lunch. She wanted to see for herself just how Mary Elizabeth was doing. Besides which she was feeling just a little guilty for not having checked on her before this.

  The institute sat up on a hill and Alyson had to drive up a somewhat twisting road to get to it. Looking up at the place she found herself thinking it was the perfect location to film a horror movie. She smiled at that thought then drove around the last curve into a rather modern style parking area. There were quite a few cars there, most on the lower edges. Employee cars no doubt. She parked in the second row from the building, got out and walked through the main doors into a spacious lobby. Chairs and love seats dotted the area to the left of the door for visitors to relax on. A receptionist desk was straight ahead and a nurse in a white uniform and old-style cap sat behind it. As Alyson walked in, the nurse stood up expectantly.

  “May I help you?” The nurse said as Alyson approached.

  Alyson glanced at the name tag on the nurse’s uniform. The name read as Brittany Duncan. Alyson smiled.

  “Yes, Nurse Duncan. I’m here to see Mary Elizabeth Harding, my mother.”

  The nurse opened a book on a ledge behind the desk. “And your name?”

  “Alyson Harding.” Alyson waited as the nurse turned a page or two then watched as the woman frowned.

  “Your name isn’t on the visitor list.” Nurse Duncan looked up at Alyson and waited.

  “Well, I haven’t been here before this. Perhaps that’s why.” Alyson paused for a minute. “I was trying to allow her to get some real help before I came by you understand.”

  Nurse Duncan was shaking her head even before Alyson stopped talking. “No, you don’t understand. Your mother – if that is who she is – never added you to her visitor list. To me that means that either you aren’t who you say you are, or she just doesn’t want to see you.”

  Alyson blinked. Didn’t want to see her? Wasn’t who she said she was? Alyson pulled her wallet out and showed the nurse her id then flipped to a picture that she still carried of her mother and herself when times were a little better.

  “I am her daughter and I wish to see my mother. Now please.” Alyson could feel the tears welling up behind her eyelids and forced them back. She would not cry in front of this woman.

  Nurse Duncan sighed. “I can call back and see if she will talk to you but without you being on the list, I really can’t just let you go back. You can have a seat in the waiting area while I check.” The nurse smiled and Alyson nodded.

  Alyson walked to a chair that faced the receptionist’s desk and had a seat. She watched as Nurse Duncan picked up the phone and made a short call. The woman listened for a minute then said something to whoever had answered. Three more times that happened before she hung up the phone and retook her seat without saying a word to Alyson.

  Alyson sat there for maybe ten minutes before she pulled her book out of her purse and started to read. This one was a fantasy type about a vampire falling in love. Briefly she wondered if vampires, being dead as they were, could be capable of love. In the book they certainly seemed to be. She lost herself in the story for a time then, when she started feeling a bit cramped from sitting in the same position for a time, she glanced at her watch. An hour and fifteen minutes had gone by. She glanced at the nurse at the desk and realized it wasn’t the same woman. They had switched off while she was reading. She closed her book, stood up and walked to the receptionist’s desk.

  “Excuse me.” Alyson said. “I’m here to see my mother and the other nurse, Nurse Duncan? Was going to check on that for me.” She stood there and waited as the new person looked up then at a paper on the desk.

  “Oh yes, Ms. Harding? Nurse Duncan left this. It says that Mary Elizabeth Harding is refusing to see you. It says here that there are only two people on her visitor’s list, and you aren’t one of them. I’m sorry but I can’t allow you back.”

  Alyson’s mouth dropped open. Refusing to see her? Why? She didn’t put her in this place, she did that all by herself. Alyson took a calming breath.

  “May I ask why she is refusing to see her only daughter?” Alyson kept her voice soft but inside she was wanting to either scream or cry or maybe just throw up.

  The nurse shook her head. “I’m sorry but she didn’t give a reason. Just said she didn’t want to see you. I’m sorry. I wish you had called before making the drive up here.” The nurse turned her attention back to a computer on which she was typing something basically dismissing Alyson in the process.

  Alyson took a single step back, blinked and felt like she was going to pass out. Her eyes closed for a minute, and everything went black.

  When Alyson regained her senses, she was in her car sitting outside her apartment building. How had she gotten there? What had happened? She remembered the nurse saying her mother refused to see her but that was all. She didn’t remember getting in the car and driving home. She didn’t remember a lot lately she realized. Every time she went to sleep, she forgot something. The car was still running so she turned off the engine, went into her apartment, sat on the couch and had a good cry. Maybe it was better this way. Alyson realized it was close to four p.m., so she finally cleaned herself up and made dinner.

  Twenty-four

  Jessica Roberts hung up the phone and sat staring out the window for a few minutes. Tony was tapping at the keys on his computer doing something, but her thoughts were with the information she had just received on the phone. She finally glanced over at Tony. He wasn’t typing per se since he did the one finger bit. Why he had never taken a class she had no idea. He finally realized she was staring and looked over at her.

  “What?” Tony said. “You are staring at me as if you had never seen me before.”

  Jessica shook her head. “No, sorry. Just had a rather disturbing phone call. Remember that woman we recommended for psychiatric help and who got sent to the institution? Well, apparently, her daughter showed up, wasn’t allowed to see her and went off on the receptionist.” Jessica shook her head again. “Just doesn’t sound like the daughter I met.”

  Tony frowned. “How so?”

  Jessica shrugged. “Alyson Harding was quiet, reserved and seemed more like a timid mouse than an angry lion, if you get my meaning. The manager at the institution said the woman they faced was angry, screaming and threatening. Just not quite the same.” She shook her head again. “Maybe we need to go back over some of the information we have on this case.”

  Tony nodded and took a sip from his coffee cup then grimaced. Jessica just shook her head. It was probably cold again. She watched her partner stand up and head for the breakroom to get a fresh cup of coffee.

  Jessica decided it was time to recall a few witnesses to try and get more information. She looked over her notes and realized that one witness had never been recalled for more questions. She picked up the phone and dialed the number she had written down. After a few minutes it was answered.

  “Hello?” A woman’s voice asked.

  Jessica smil
ed. “Hello. I’m trying to reach Robert Carver. Is he there?”

  The woman hesitated. “This is his wife. May I ask who this is?” Suspicion seeped through the phone and Jessica understood.

  “Hello Mrs. Carver. My name is Jessica Roberts. I’m the detective working Calvin Douglas’s case. Is your husband at home?”

  Relief sounded in the woman’s voice. “No, I’m sorry, he is at work at the moment. Is it very important? They don’t normally allow personal calls, but I can give you the number.”

  “That would be appreciated Mrs. Carver and yes, it is very important that I talk with him as soon as possible.” Jessica waited as Mrs. Carver found the number and relayed it to her over the phone. Jessica wrote it down and smiled. “Thank you, Mrs. Carver,”

  The woman hesitated. “You’re welcome Detective. I … ah … I hope my husband isn’t in trouble.”

  “No, not at all. Mr. Carver is actually a witness that I need to speak with. Thank you for your time.” With that Jessica hung up and then dialed the number Mrs. Carver had just given her. After talking with a receptionist, she was put through to a desk and got a voice mail for Robert Carver. She left her name and number on the voice mail and said it was urgent that she speak with him as soon as possible. By the time she had finished that, Tony was back in front of his desk with a steaming cup of coffee. She often wondered how he drank it that hot but to each his own.

  “So,” Tony asked after taking a sip. “What do we do next?”

  “Well, I just put in a call to Robert Carver so we can talk to him again. Brandon Jacobson is a dead end, I think. He was out drinking and having fun when his wife was killed. No one was around for any of the others except for that elderly lady across the street.” Jessica tapped her pen on the desk for a minute before looking up at Tony. “I’m starting to think it really is a woman doing all this.”

  Tony tilted his head and thought about it. “How so? We haven’t found any real evidence of it.”