A Killer's Daughter

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A Killer's Daughter Page 12

by Jenna Kernan


  Arleen’s vocabulary often led people to underestimate her and they did so at their peril.

  Her mother, the spider, she thought.

  “Did you always attack the man first?”

  Arleen finished opening the snack bag and peered inside, selecting a large chip, and lifting the golden oval to admire.

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  “I wasn’t there to get my lights turned out. ’Course I hit them first.”

  “You killed them in the water?”

  “Yes and no. Nearby. I liked it best when he was watching when I cut her.” She closed her eyes and sucked in a breath, her shoulders rising as she savored the memory. Then the cold eyes met hers. She was smiling now. “I’d drag them in, usually as they were bleeding. Once, I used a Taser.”

  She had, on her third victim, Nadine knew. Lacey Louder. The working girl sleeping with a forest ranger, one of Lacey’s regulars.

  “If you’re in water, it’s easy to clean up. Wash off the blood. Two birds with one stone.”

  “Where was the knife?”

  “In my hand or my shorts with the rope. It was small. You seen it. The carpet knife. Had blue paint on the handle from when we painted Arlo’s room.”

  Nadine had seen it in her mother’s tool kit in the carport. The curved blade was not small.

  “Your clothing was bloody. I saw them.”

  “So, you did look in the bags. I hoped you might.”

  Was it Arleen’s wish to pique Nadine’s interest? She’d succeeded in engaging her curiosity and then her revulsion. One week after her eighth birthday, a new bag of garbage waited. Smaller, because it contained only Arleen’s clothing, since she had killed the ranger in his jeep.

  “I testified that I did in court. Don’t you remember?”

  “I didn’t listen. Blah, blah, blah. Too much talk. Should have listened to that part, though.”

  Was that thrilling for her mother, knowing her daughter had looked inside? Did she think the sight of the blood would arouse or repel Nadine? Either thought sickened her.

  “And you deposited the bodies right there?”

  “‘Deposited’? No. I cut him and watched him thrash. Then I’d work on her, while he drank his own blood. Sometimes I’d give him a little shove, see him lose his footing, fall in the mud and wallow, like a pig. But one of ’em grabbed me, and I had to stab him in the stomach to get him to let go. So, after that, I cut and stepped back to enjoy.”

  “Didn’t they call for help?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Did anyone come?”

  She smiled and slowly shook her head. “Nope.”

  “Did you have a type?”

  “What do you mean? Like what sort of people did I pick?”

  Nadine nodded. Arleen worked on her chips awhile before answering.

  “That’s easy. I took homewreckers and the miserable scumbags who left their wives and kids at home while they fucked around.”

  “Did you target him or her first?”

  “Both. I worked with most of ’em. The carpet store. The marina. That whore lived in the trailer park. Got to stay home all day, while I was out cleaning swimming pools. Ranger Rick was always dropping by in his work vehicle, along with others. She told me that he was gonna leave his wife for her. The skank. I hate homewreckers.”

  Why didn’t Nadine know that Lacey Louder lived in their development?

  Arleen continued talking. “And you know how I found the last pair. Don’t ya?”

  Nadine did know. Shank was a classmate. White was Arlo’s dealer. Arleen knew them both. But how did she know they were sleeping together?

  “Did you follow them?”

  “’Course I followed them. It ain’t difficult, Dee-Dee. All you have to do is go where people fuck. Then you sort out the fumbling teens and the professionals. The married ones usually come in separate cars. Nice ones. They pick out-of-the-way places to be alone. That works for me. Quiet. Remote. All perfect for killing. And you know they’re cheating, because if they weren’t, they’d be home in their own damn beds instead of rolling around in the back room or the backseat. Sinners!”

  Murder was a sin, too, but Nadine kept that to herself.

  “Those bitches. Just like that bitch that stole my husband. Soon as I had kids, he started cheating. Men are men. So, I blame the women. If you take what’s mine, you pay the price.”

  Nadine leaned in. “What was the other woman’s name?”

  “What do I care?” She smiled then, a look of satisfaction that gave Nadine a chill.

  “Dad moved in with her?”

  “Run off with her, more like. Left us flat. No child support. Zip! And I wasn’t the only one he owed money. He ever turns up, he owes me a buttload of cash. Men are animals.”

  Nadine thought of Demko and felt a shock of realization. Was this the real reason she had not told him of the similarities she’d seen? Because she didn’t trust not only him, but any man, with the possible exception of Arlo? Her mother had been feeding her an anti-man rant for as long as she could remember. Suddenly Nadine felt cold right down to her soul.

  That tore it. Arleen was not silencing her any longer.

  She was telling Demko everything she’d noted on the similarities between the double homicide and her mother’s crimes at the first opportunity. She would not let her mother’s poison prevent her from doing everything she could to help him solve these murders.

  “You know how many men I slept with when you kids were little? How many made me promises? Then I’d mention you kids, and they’d turn into magicians. Poof!” She used both hands in an exploding motion. “They’d disappear. Men want us for one thing, and it ain’t to have kids.”

  Nadine rubbed away the chill that lifted the hairs on her arms.

  “It’s your job to survive, Dee-Dee. That’s what nature intended. Get what you need when you can. You gotta defend them from trespassers. Be tougher than they are, and you are, Dee-Dee. Trust me on that. You are.”

  This was the kind of toughness that Nadine had tried to crush. It was that part of her that asked questions like, “How much can I get away with?” and told her, “Laws were for losers.” It was her mother’s voice, the voice of true evil, whispering in her ear.

  Nadine continued with her questions, trying to learn all she could about Arleen’s method of targeting her victims and probing to see if there were any obvious triggers prior to each kill. The why and who were as important as the where and when. Understanding those could help her make connections between Arleen’s homicides and this new killer or they could eliminate Nadine’s copycat theory.

  Arleen had the chip bag up to her lips and poured the remains into her mouth.

  “Why the long gaps between the murders?”

  “Busy with work, men and you kids, mostly.”

  That didn’t quite fit. She’d been busy with all that when she’d killed each one of her victims.

  “You killed eight people.”

  “They convicted me for eight. Put them out of their damned misery. Save their wives the cost of divorcing their ass. One of them widows even got insurance money. You know that?” She drummed her greasy fingers on the tabletop. “Did them a favor.”

  The implication hung between them. Were there more than eight? Nadine resisted the diversion.

  Arleen smiled. “How about a chocolate bar?”

  The ease with which she went from speaking about murder to asking for sweets turned Nadine’s stomach.

  Nadine pressed her lips together, aware her mother’s attorneys were working on a plea deal involving additional murders. Nadine needed to know. Not for the case, but for herself.

  “Arleen, are you saying that you killed more than eight people?”

  She snorted and rolled her eyes. “You think I woke up twenty-five years ago and picked up a knife? That what you think?”

  This was a secret dread for Nadine. She always wondered, and even allowed herself to speculate on occasion
.

  “Who was the first?”

  Arleen gave her an enigmatic smile, but no answer.

  “Did you always use a knife?”

  She turned her hand over and motioned with her fingers, demanding food as payment.

  Nadine dropped a chocolate bar into her mother’s palm. Arleen took her time peeling the wrapper. She sniffed the chocolate. Her eyes closed.

  Nadine took the instant to glance toward the door, wishing she could leave, knowing she couldn’t. Not yet. When Nadine looked back, Arleen’s stare pinned her.

  “Tough, isn’t it? Gets claustrophobic. This here, today, is the closest I’ve been to free air in fourteen years. Now my own daughter treats me like some caged monkey. You ought to be ashamed. What do you do out there that gives you the right to judge what I done?”

  Nadine was ashamed every day, but not of this. Of her.

  She redirected. “The others?”

  Arleen ignored her daughter and gnawed on the chocolate bar. Her teeth were stained yellow like the teeth of a rodent. Nadine didn’t succeed in hiding her revulsion.

  This was getting her nowhere. If there was a trigger, Arleen hadn’t revealed it. And the only obvious common thread between the victims was that they had fallen under Arleen’s notice and she had learned of their affairs.

  She looked again toward the exit and considered walking away. Then her mother could fill that post office box with unopened letters, and she could get clear of her again.

  “I had others. A few. They never did connect them to me, and they can stay cold cases, for all I care. They aren’t going to come speak to me, they can go to hell.”

  Nadine faced her mother. Had Arleen noted her inattention? Perhaps rightly assumed Nadine considered leaving—and so she had told this final secret to keep her interested?

  “Couples?”

  “Most. Not all. Burned one in his bed. Used what was left of the whiskey and his matches. Soaked his shirt, dropped a lit match. He woke the fuck up then. Ran around screaming like a human torch.”

  “When was this?”

  “Let’s see. It was hot. And it was between when I worked at the carpet place and when I dumped that whore at River Forest Park.”

  Nadine sucked in a breath. No one had ever attributed this death to her mother.

  “Did they determine it was arson?”

  “It wasn’t arson. The inspector said he burned himself up. Not even a cold case. Accidental.” Arleen chuckled and reached for one of the remaining chocolate bars. “What about you, Dee-Dee? You ever think about it? What it feels like?”

  “No.”

  “Thought maybe your interest was personal. You killed yet?”

  Yet. As if the killing were only a question of when and not if.

  “I’m here to talk about you. Not me. You,” said Nadine.

  “My favorite subject.” Arleen laughed, the sound hoarse and grating, like a rasp on dry wood.

  “Do you know the arson victim’s name?”

  “‘Victim’?” She snorted. “Ha.”

  “Name?”

  “Clem or Mel, I think. He lived at the trailer park there. Don’t you remember? No, you weren’t even in kindergarten yet, and I was working at that carpet-cleaning outfit until I got caught stealing. You know that cocksucker left that money out there as a test. That’s entrapment. Bastard.”

  The name popped into Nadine’s head. “Milo Strickland?”

  “Yeah!”

  “Did you tell anyone, a detective or therapist, about any of the other people you killed?”

  “‘People’? He was a mean old drunk who screamed at Arlo. I did his family a favor. The state too. They were going to put him in a home. The whole neighborhood should thank me. Not a person there was sorry to see him go. Did them all a favor.”

  “You mention that arson to anyone else?”

  “I said no, didn’t I? You deaf? Quit now, you’re like a broken record.”

  Nadine quit. Arleen finished the next snack: salty vinegar-flavored chips. Her mother had said no, and maybe that was the truth.

  And maybe not.

  Nadine returned to the reason for her visit. If she could refute her suspicions, she could put the notion of a copycat to bed. And if she confirmed the parallels, she’d need to tell Demko.

  If they could catch this killer, everything could go back to the way it was. Then she could cancel that damned post office box and drive south.

  “Did you do anything to the women? Leave any marks, for instance.”

  Arleen’s eyes glistened. “Like what?”

  “Cuts or gashes. Something you did to each one of them?”

  Arleen sat back and folded her arms. Her smile broadened. She sucked air between her upper teeth as she regarded Nadine.

  “Don’t recall.”

  “Arleen. Of course you do.”

  “You’re like them now. Aren’t you? Want to know what I done. Why I done it. Why you want to know all of a sudden?”

  Nadine hesitated. She was not telling Arleen of her suspicions or of the current double homicide. So, what plausible reason could she offer?

  “I’m trying to understand you.”

  Arleen’s laugh echoed her skepticism. “Right. Then why not ask about the others? The ones no one ever pinned on me.”

  Nadine blanched. What others?

  Nadine tried to retain her focus and redirected. “I’d like to talk about the couple murders.”

  “Well, I don’t.”

  They faced off, Arleen blocking and Nadine looking for any cracks in her mother’s defenses. “What are you, a cop? You wearing a wire, Dee-Dee?”

  She should be. “No wire.”

  “How about you get me another soda and some more of those chips?”

  Nadine’s legs wobbled as she made the trip to and from the vending machines. On her return, she handed off one bag of chips and another soda.

  “You know they’ll strip-search us as soon as we get through that door. Make sure you didn’t pass us anything. But you could give me that twenty. I might get it through.”

  What would twenty dollars buy in here?

  “That’s illegal.”

  “Shit,” her mother said, and sat back with her chips.

  “The marks?” Nadine asked.

  She snorted. “You know I killed one by accident. First man I ever killed. Just went over to talk. He owed me money. Wouldn’t pay up. Kept sayin’ he was out of work. Meanwhile, he was dealing. All cash business and giving us nothing.”

  Arleen was leading her off track. But Nadine could not resist the bait.

  “Name?”

  Arleen pressed her lips tight. Should she push her or move on? Nadine judged her mother’s expression and decided she needed to find the name another way.

  “What happened?”

  “He told me to go fuck myself and I stabbed him in the stomach. Then in the neck. Bled all over everything. We were outside on his driveway, fighting, like always. Afterward, I used a hose to clean up the blood. It rained, too. That helped.”

  “His body?”

  “Buried it. Not too far from that hooker that landed at Hontoon Island State Park. But far enough. They listed him as missing. He owed folks. Not just me, but the wrong sort.”

  Nadine thought her mom fell into the category of “wrong sort.”

  “Police figured he skipped town. They’re still looking for him.” Arleen’s smile was wicked and self-satisfied. “Good luck with that.”

  “Did you use your car?”

  She shook her head. “His. Stuffed him in one of those big tubs where he kept his camping gear. Then I hosed down the outside and put him in his truck.”

  “Wasn’t he too heavy to lift?”

  “He was. But I was stronger then and I had help.”

  “Someone helped you move a dead body?” That was a big ask. “Who?”

  “Guy.”

  “Guy? Your brother?”

  “No, I called some stranger named Guy. Of course my bro
ther. We drove out there and buried him. Used his shovel. Was gone all night. Covered with bug bites and dirt. When I brought his truck back to his place, we swam in his pool. Then we left.”

  “Didn’t they question you?”

  “Sure. But not for more than a week. I was cutting lawns then. Scratches and dirty fingernails wasn’t anything to bother about. And he wasn’t dead. He was missing. And he owed me money, too. I told them they better find him, because I had kids to feed. They never bothered me again.”

  “What about Guy?”

  “What about him?”

  “Was he questioned?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Arleen chugged a third of her soda, then lowered it to the table. “Easier to let the water take them. So, I did that from then on. But it’s nice to know that one is just where I left him.”

  Nadine sat in uneasy silence as her mother smiled.

  Finally Arleen snapped her attention back on her daughter.

  “I learned two things that night. It’s safer if you don’t know the guy, and it takes a long time to bury a body.”

  Nadine believed her mother had learned something else that night. Her mother enjoyed killing. This was not what she’d come here for. She led Arleen back to the first couple murder. “This was before the two from the carpet place, DeNato and Rogers?”

  Arleen snorted and lifted her drink.

  “So, you dropped Gail DeNato, Charlie Rogers and Lacey Louder in the water. But not Drew Henderson.”

  “Geesh, Dee-Dee, you got them all memorized? All right, put this in your book, it’s a kick to watch him realize what I done. See that light come on in his brain when he understands two things—he’s bleeding, and I’m going to kill his bitch before his eyes. But it’s quick. Too quick. And sometimes the water would take them, and I couldn’t see it happen.”

  The pause stretched as Arleen sipped at her soda, waiting.

  “See what happen?”

  “The moment they see that I did this to them. That I killed them, and they can’t stop me. The rush… there is nothing in this world like that moment. So, I started thinking, what if I took them somewhere more private? I could make that moment last.”

  “You’re talking about torture.”

  Arleen rolled her eyes. “These women are scum, Dee-Dee. They don’t see us at all, except to spit on us. Think they’re so much better. Mean bitches and homewreckers. I done the world a favor. Believe me.”

 

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