Third Chances

by Dan Petrosini

  “Good point. we need to check into it.” Vargas wrote victim’s glasses under GSR. Now, we’ve got a couple of calls and contact with the victims through the church.” She wrote knew all victims on the left, beneath victim’s glasses.

  My stomach growled. “Hagan’s father killed his mother. Can’t get harder than that.”

  “It’s a connection that’s difficult to explain, but we need something to prove it was revenge, and then we’d have to discover the motivations for the other killings.”

  “Maybe he was providing cover.”

  “Kill four others for cover?”

  I knew it was ridiculous, but the facts were showing we had nothing concrete on Dwyer.

  “He moved down here within months of Hagan moving.”

  “Hagan was in Wisconsin before that?”

  “Yeah, just like Dwyer.”

  “Why would he wait until Hagan moved to kill him?”

  “Man, I wish I knew. He could’ve tried, you never know.”

  “You think we should take another look at Hannah Booth?”

  I shrugged.

  “We’ve got her hair on a vic, and the gun used in two killings was found in her office. That’s miles more than we have on Dwyer.”

  “But when the last killing happened she was sitting in a Lee County cell.”

  “A, with the time of death, muddled by Hagan floating in the Gulf, she could’ve killed him and then got herself drunk. Drown out what she just did. And B, maybe we have two killers. Hannah Booth killed the first four and Dwyer the fifth.”

  I’d never considered that. Vargas one-upped me again. “Maybe Dwyer saw the heat on Hannah and used that to even the score with Hagan. It’s worth exploring, but don’t forget the second gun was used to kill Parker too.”

  “I forgot about that.”

  Score one for Luca. “Maybe Hannah used two guns. Dwyer was around the church a lot and had access to Hannah’s office.” It was a stupid thought. “Why don’t we look at any connections he might have had with Parker. Maybe it was Hannah for three and Dwyer for two.”

  “That would be crazy, Frank.”

  “Crazy is the business we’re in, sunshine.”

  Vargas’s face lit up with a smile that’d been missing since she’d been sick.

  “Let’s grab something to eat. I’m starving. What do you say we pick up sandwiches from Dolce & Salato and sit on a bench by the beach?”

  ***

  After lunch, Vargas headed to the coroner to discuss the time of death, and I worked the phone.

  “Mrs. Hagan? It’s Detective Luca, remember me?”

  I was hoping she’d say something like, ‘Sure, you’re the one who looks like George Clooney,’ but she said, “Hi there. I’m guessing this is about Bobby?”

  “Yeah, I’d like to ask you a couple of questions.”

  “Listen, sweetie, I told you when you were here I didn’t have much contact with him.”

  “I know, but it’s concerning his eyesight. As his mother you’d know the most about it.”

  “His eyesight? The uveal coloboma condition?”

  “Yes. Did he have to see an eye doctor regularly?”

  “He should have been going at least once a year. I used to be on his back about it.”

  “Did his prescription change? Did he get new glasses a lot?”

  “Sometimes he needed new glasses, but not all the time.”

  “Do you know which eye doctor he used?”

  “You don’t seem to understand, honey, I don't much see Bobby anymore.”

  “I understand. Last question. I promise. Who was the eye doctor you used to take him to?”

  “Dr. Brower, over at the Coastland Mall. He’d be over seventy, if he’s still around.”

  It was a long shot, but even if Hagan changed doctors they may have a record of who they transferred records to. Instead of calling, I hopped into the car, hoping to avoid having an eighteen-year-old receptionist try to blow me off.

  Chapter 45

  Walking through Macy’s to get to my car, I rolled around what Hagan’s ophthalmologist said when Vargas called. I quickened my pace as she spoke, “Frank, Hagan’s time of death isn’t firm.”

  “What changed?”

  “Coroner missed the fact that Hagan was taking blood pressure medicine.”

  “What does that have to do with it?”

  “He was taking a beta blocker, and they slow down digestion.”

  Stepping into the sunshine, I said, “I didn’t know that. What’s the bottom line then?”

  “Because Hagan was in the water, he based the TOD on the state of digestion from Hagan’s last meal, a Whopper from Burger King. But now he’s moved the TOD back two to three hours. Hannah Booth had more than enough time to kill Hagan, get smashed, and arrested for DUI.”

  “We’re gonna need to replot the time line, make sure what we have here. You headed back?”

  “No, I’m due in court in an hour.”

  “I’ll see you later, then.”

  “Okay. You get anything from the eye doctor?”

  “Yeah. Hagan was in a month ago, got new glasses. They were doing a buy one, get one free thing to compete with Vision Works, and Hagan got two pairs.”

  “He could’ve just dropped them in Dwyer’s car, then.”

  “Yep.”

  ***

  Tossing my jacket on a chair, I ripped off my tie and studied the board. I took the pin out of the picture of Hannah Booth and stared at it. Was I wrong about her? Was she really someone who could plan five murders without leaving much evidence? I pinned her photo next to Dwyer’s and sat.

  What about her son? Did he really die of an overdose, or was it suffocation? It might be easier to clarify her status by getting to the bottom of that death. If we exhumed the body, pinning a murder on Hannah, the other cases could come together.

  Serial killers were overwhelmingly thirty-to-forty-year-old males. Who was the last female serial killer? I remembered that Wuornos lady, a Florida hooker who ended up killing seven of her johns in the eighties. Tapping at my keyboard, a list of females who’d committed multiple murders came up. Scrolling down, I was surprised at the number of them, but most of these killers committed their crimes in the twentieth century.

  Closing the browser, I swiveled back to the board. Hannah was not only in the suspect pool but was in the deep end with Dwyer. Was it either one of them, or both? I remember laughing at Haines when he said the killer was intelligent. These two were frigging Einsteins at this point, and I had to find a way to give them a failing grade. Grabbing the phone, I put on my cheeriest voice,

  “Minister Booth, it’s Det . . . uh, Frank Luca.”

  “Hello Frank. How are you?”

  “Doing well. Do you have a couple of minutes?”

  “Well, I’m kind of busy.”

  “It’s not about Hannah, but Ethan Dwyer.”

  “Oh, sure.”

  “When we spoke the last time, I don’t think I asked about his relationship with Shaun Parker.”

  “I don’t believe you did. What would you like to know?”

  “Did they get along?”

  “Yes, I believe so. Why do you ask?”

  “I’m unable to discuss an active case, but I trust you enough to say there is strong evidence one of the victims was killed for revenge.”

  “Oh my God, that’s terrible, holding such anger against another individual.”

  “Are you sure they got along?”

  “Yes. We’re blessed with a close-knit group of people here.”

  He must have forgotten about his wife’s book throwing. “It seems that way, and you’re to be commended, Minister, but we humans are built in such a way that we can’t agree on everything. Why don’t you give this a little more thought, see if you can recall anything between them?”

  “Differences of opinion happen, but the key is to respectfully disagree. There’s
absolutely no reason to be nasty about it.”

  “I’m afraid we’re losing that ability.”

  “With God’s help, we’ll reverse the tide.”

  I heard myself say, “Amen.”

  “I’m sorry, Detective, but I have to get going.”

  “Thank you for your time.”

  Playing over our conversation, I wondered if he was hiding anything. If he was covering anything, it wouldn’t help his wife. Maybe he was concerned about how it would reflect on his church. A large part of his mission was directed toward giving people second and third chances. The publicity from a murderer in the midst of the church’s activities would dry up his funding. Then, how would they pay off the money they borrowed? He had a million-dollar reason to keep quiet, but was that what was going on?

  ***

  I grabbed a cup of java and made my next call.

  “Robert DeBlasi? This is Detective Luca. We spoke about your brother Ethan.”

  “Hi, by the way, Detective, Ethan is technically my foster brother. I think I told you my parents took him out of foster care.”

  “Yes, I remember. I’ve got a question or two for you.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Does the name Shaun Parker mean anything to you?”

  “Vaguely rings a bell. I think there was a family who used to live a couple of blocks away named Parker when we were growing up.”

  “Did they have any boys?”

  “I think so, if my memory serves me.”

  “How about Hagan, Paul and Robert.”

  “That’s the scumbag who killed Ethan’s mother. I don’t remember the first name, but they weren’t from around here.”

  “Paul was the guy who murdered his mother. His son Robert moved down here right before your brother did.”

  “Really? What a coincidence.”

  “Could be, but Robert was murdered.”

  There was ten seconds of silence before DeBlasi said, “Don’t tell me you think Ethan had something to do with it.”

  “I’ve got my suspicions, but nothing more at this point. Getting back to Shaun Parker, did Ethan know him?”

  “I don’t know if there was a Shaun Parker.”

  “Ethan was in a bad accident. Do you know the name of the driver who hit him?”

  “Oh boy, you’re asking me to reach back. That was about twenty years ago. I don’t know, and frankly, I don’t even know if I ever knew the guy’s name. All I knew was whoever hit him was drunk and got arrested.”

  “Where did the accident occur?”

  “Tiny town called Greenville, outside of Appleton.”

  “You remember when it happened?”

  “October 2001, right before Halloween.”

  Chapter 46

  When Vargas updated Sheriff Chester about the change in Hagan’s time of death, he instructed us to bring Hannah in for questioning.

  While we waited on her arrival, I put another call into the Greenville police department.

  “This is Detective Luca with the Collier County Sheriff’s Office, in Florida. I need information about a DUI crash. You have a DUI patrol, Sergeant?”

  “No, sir. We’ve only got a dozen officers here. When did you say the DUI occurred?”

  “Back in 2001. Late October, the days before Halloween, between the twenty-sixth and thirtieth of October 2001.”

  “That’s a long while ago. I only started in 2007 myself. Hold on a minute. let me ask the chief; he’s been here forever.”

  I searched back issues of a newspaper, The Post Crescent, for articles on the crash Ethan Dwyer claimed he was in. A voice barked through the receiver.

  “This is Chief Lasster. Who’s this?”

  “Chief, I’m Detective Luca, Homicide, Collier County Sheriff’s Office.”

  “Homicide?”

  “Yes, sir. I’m looking into an old DUI car crash from October 2001 involving a person of interest, Ethan Dwyer. I realize it’s ancient, but I’m looking to identify the driver under the influence.”

  “It’s fuzzy to me, were there any fatalities in the crash?”

  “No, but I understand Ethan Dwyer was badly hurt and the drunk driver arrested.”

  “If there was an arrest I can look it up. You wanna hang on, or you want me to call you back?”

  “If it’s okay with you, I’ll hang on.”

  “You said it was late October 2001, right?”

  “Yes. I really appreciate this.”

  I sent a text to Vargas. She was in court, getting ready to go on the stand. I let her know I was waiting to hear if the driver who crashed into Dwyer happened to be one of the victims. I was reading a text from her when the chief got back on the phone,

  “Detective Luca?”

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “I remember this one now. I responded to the scene.”

  “Who was the driver of the other vehicle? The guy who was drunk?”

  “Jeremy Kelly.”

  “Kelly? You sure?”

  “Yep.”

  “I understand this wasn’t this guy’s first DUI.”

  “Yeah, habitual offender. I always thought he’d kill himself or someone else in a crash, but he was shot dead about ten years ago up in Appleton.”

  “He was murdered?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you find out who did it?”

  “Kelly was from around here, but the homicide occurred in Appleton. Last I heard, they never caught the guy, but with everything going on, I lost track of the case.”

  “I’m familiar with case overload. I want to check on the proper spelling for Kelly. Is it double L Y, or does it have an E at the end?”

  “K, E, L, L, Y. First name Jeremy.”

  After thanking the chief, I send a text to Vargas and got back on the phone.

  “Homicide, Detective Harris.”

  “I’m Detective Luca, homicide, with the Collier County Sheriff’s Office. I understand you have an unsolved by the name of Jeremy Kelly. Case is about ten years old.”

  “I’d have to check the cold case files. What’s your interest in it?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “Aren’t they always.”

  “We’ve got a serial killer down here. A suspect we’re following was badly injured by this Kelly in a DUI incident.”

  “So, it’s a revenge hit, you think?”

  “Could be, we have him linked to another revenge killing, but the evidence is thin. Can you check?”

  “Hold on a sec, I’ll jump into the cold case archive.”

  I heard him tapping away on a keyboard when he said, “Okay, here we go. Kelly, Jeremy, thirty-five-year-old Caucasian found washed up on Little Chute Island.”

  “Where’s that located?”

  “Fox River.”

  “What was the cause of death?”

  “Looks like the guy drowned to death.”

  “Drowned? I thought he was shot to death.”

  “Cause of death is listed as drowning.”

  “Okay, but I’d like to look over the case file if that’s all right with you.”

  “Sure, make a request through the portal, and I’ll email it to you.”

  “Thanks. you’re a prince for helping.”

  “Always happy to help a fellow officer. We got to stick together if we’re gonna survive in today’s world.”

  ***

  Vargas walked through the door an hour later. “Hey Frank.”

  “How’d it go?”

  “Good. Steinberg tried to get under my skin on cross, but he came across desperate. Trillo did a good job. It’ll go to deliberations in a day, two at most.”

  “Be good to get that turd off the street.”

  “That’s crazy that the guy who hit Dwyer was shot dead. You think it was Dwyer?”

  “Yeah, well it seems the guy drowned to death.”

  “What? Your text said he was shot.”
/>
  “The chief of that shit-ass town told me he was, but Appleton homicide said it was a drowning.”

  “Oh. Say, while waiting to testify, I was thinking we should get another opinion on the time of death.”

  “You don’t trust Beasley?”

  “No, it’s not that. He’s good but not infallible. It isn’t an exact science, and with the politics, I think Chester will go for it.”

  “Good idea.”

  “You think so?”

  “It’s the right move. Maybe the DA could be helpful here. Explain how it could blow up in court and such.”

  “Yeah. Thume has Chester’s ear.”

  “Nothing gets you run out of office like losing a big case.”

  Vargas stood. “Come on, let’s go see them.”

  I had no interest in being reminded we were still grasping for answers. Getting in front of Chester about building a case on a suspect I had argued against going after was tough to stomach. A little white lie was the escape route I took.

  “I’m waiting on a call from some guy who knew Dwyer and Hagan up in Wisconsin.”

  Chapter 47

  Vargas had a frown on that didn’t quiet extinguish the glow from her skin. Confirming she was back to normal, she said, “You don’t get up now, I’m going without you.”

  “I’m almost done. I got a couple left.”

  “See you later. I’ll tell Chester you were too busy doing emails to see him.”

  I quickly read one more: a last warning concerning sensitivity training I had continually put off. It was a complete waste of our valuable time listening to people who never worked a day in the real world.

  I followed Vargas out the door, leaving two emails unread: one from the Appleton Police Department, and an autopsy report on a high schooler who hung himself. There wasn’t a doubt the poor kid took his own life, based on the scene and the background info we had developed. It was crazy to put the parents through one, but it was protocol.

  Sheriff Chester was talking with DA Thume as we entered his office. Chester needed a haircut and had the slightest of stubble growth. He was a couple of years older than me but looked a lot older when not perfectly groomed, as he normally was.

  Chester nodded but remained seated. “Detectives.”