by Lolli Powell
The air outside was cool, and the lot was empty of people. As she walked to her car, she caught herself swiveling her head, trying to see in all directions at once. You’re being silly, she told herself, but as she approached the first parked car, she slipped her hand into her purse and gripped her weapon. Because the truth was, she would be even sillier if she thought she was invulnerable. She saw herself as the hunter, but she could just as easily become the hunted.
CHAPTER 15
“You look tired, Dillon,” Lonnie said, grinning, when she walked into his office at seven-thirty the following morning. Al was there, the two of them going over the coroner’s report. “Didn’t you get enough rest last night?”
“My night was fine. Hi, Al.”
Al acknowledged her greeting with a grunt. It took three cups of coffee before Al could carry on a civilized conversation. Apparently, he was still on cup one or two.
“By the way,” Lonnie said. “Special Agent Anderson is across the hall talking to the Chief. He’ll be tied up for a while, so you’ll have to do without him.”
He made a show of scratching his head and looking puzzled.
“You know, it’s a funny thing. He looks a little tired, too. Guess thinking about these cases is keeping everyone up nights.”
He just doesn’t stop, Jen thought. And he won’t be the only one. She knew that their appearance together at Tango’s the night before would guarantee that she and Will would be linked romantically on the department’s gossip grapevine. Nothing had happened, but no one would believe that. She’d made a point of leaving before he did, but cops were suspicious by nature. They’d simply figure the two of them had been trying to disguise a later hookup. She could insist to Lonnie that nothing had happened, but that would only make it worse.
Maybe I should have had some fun, she thought. I’m going to be accused of it anyway.
“Oh, no.” Al groaned. It had apparently just dawned on him what Lonnie was talking about. “Tell me it’s not true, Jen. The FBI? Don’t tell me I’m going to have to keep my can of fed repellent handy just to keep my partner?”
“I’m not telling either of you morons anything,” she said. “It will do your nasty little minds good to wonder what’s really going on. Now, if you children don’t mind, how about telling me what the coroner has to say?”
Lonnie and Al smiled at one another. Al handed her the report.
“Not much more than I learned yesterday when Don and I viewed the autopsy. The hairs match the ones found at the other crime scenes, so we’ve got confirmation that it’s the same guy.”
“As if we had any doubt,” Jen murmured.
“I talked to the hospital this morning,” Lonnie said. “They expect Norton to be released after her doctor makes his rounds. I told them you’d be out.”
“You’ve been busy this morning.”
“I went to bed early—to sleep.”
Al chuckled. Jen glared at both of them.
“One of these days,” she muttered and turned her attention to the report. When she finished reading, she dropped the papers in her lap, feeling sick.
“How she must have suffered.” She felt her eyes sting and blinked hard.
“Yeah.” Lonnie wasn’t smiling anymore.
“We’ve got to get this monster.” The look in Al’s eyes was cold. “Let’s hope when we do find him, he doesn’t want to be taken alive.”
“Don’t let the chief hear you talking like that,” Lonnie said.
Al suggested that the chief do something to himself that was anatomically impossible.
“Damn it, Lonnie, you know as well as I do, we catch this animal, he’s going to get off on an insanity plea. They’ll lock him up in some hospital for a few years, pump him so full of drugs he couldn’t hurt a fly, then claim he’s cured and turn him loose on society again.”
“They got a criminal conviction in Minneapolis,” Jen said. “And Ohio has the death penalty.”
“Yeah, so maybe we get lucky and get a conviction here so he can sit on death row for ten or fifteen years while the taxpayers support him, and he files lawsuits every time a guard looks at him cross-eyed.”
Al shook his head, a disgusted look on his face.
“I feel about this like I’d feel if my dog had rabies. It would be a shame, but I’d take him out. Only I’d feel bad about doing it to my dog.”
“Let’s drop the subject.” Lonnie suddenly sounded like the sergeant he was. “There are certain things I don’t want to hear. Understood?”
He and Al glared at each other for several seconds, and then Al nodded.
“I think I’ll grab another coffee and a roll, then head over to Finley and see if I can catch some of Kaufmann’s neighbors at home.”
He closed the office door hard behind him.
“Lonnie,” Jen started.
“Isn’t it about time you started for the hospital?”
“Yeah, sure.” Jen stood. “I’ll get right on it.”
“Jen,” Lonnie said, his voice softening. “I’m sorry.”
She turned, her hand on the knob.
“It’s just that there are some things it’s better not to talk about. At least not in daylight and not in this building.”
On her way to the garage, she thought about the exchange between Lonnie and Al. Cops always talked big about what they would do to certain types of criminals if they got the chance—cop killers especially. Jen supposed some of them even meant what they said.
There had been times when she’d felt the same way herself, but deep in her heart, she still wanted to believe that the system could work.
No, what Al had suggested was hardly new. But this time Al wasn’t just theorizing about what he might do in a given situation. He’d actually been suggesting it be done. Lonnie had recognized that and been frightened by it.
As Jen turned the key in the ignition, she realized she was a little frightened herself. And relieved. She was frightened of what Al might do if he found the killer first, and relieved that—for the time being at least—she wasn’t partnered with him.
CHAPTER 16
Sandra Norton was sitting up in her hospital bed staring at the television. An early morning talk show was on, but Jen doubted if Sandy was hearing or seeing any of it. She was a cute girl, with short blond hair styled in a wedge cut and a sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Her blue eyes were red and swollen. Jen identified herself, and Sandy flipped the OFF switch on the remote control.
“First,” Jen said, “let me say how sorry I am. Sorry that this awful thing had to happen and sorry for what you’ve had to go through.”
Tears welled in Sandy’s eyes. She reached to the bedside table for a tissue.
“I can’t forget it.” Her voice broke, and she swallowed hard. “It was horrible. They gave me sleeping pills last night, and I still dreamed about it. I kept seeing her laying there in that bloody bed…”
Her voice broke again, and she began sobbing. Jen waited till she had regained control.
“We need your help, Sandy. Maybe you can tell us something that will help us find Vicki’s killer.”
“Oh, God, I hope I can!” Sandy wiped her eyes. “I’m so afraid. I keep thinking of Vicki laying there, and then I think what if he saw me? What if he followed us, and he picked her last night and comes back for me?”
“Do you live alone?”
Sandy shook her head.
“I stay with my parents. They’re down at the cafeteria getting breakfast. They’ve been here all night.”
“Vicki and the others lived alone,” Jen said. “We think he watched them long enough to know that. But I still want you to be careful. Don’t go out at night alone if you can avoid it—that sort of thing.”
“Don’t worry. After what happened, my dad wouldn’t let me out even if I wanted to go.”
“We know you and Vicki went out last night,” Jen said. “I’d like you to tell me all you can about where you went, times, who you met, everyt
hing.”
For the next twenty minutes, Jen questioned Sandy about the previous night’s activities and Vicki’s life in general. Only one man had talked to them at The Factory. He’d asked Vicki to dance, but she had refused since they were getting ready to leave.
“Did either of you know him?”
“I’ve seen him in there before. He seems to be pretty good friends with the bartender.” Sandy’s expression grew worried. “Do you think he could be the one? I mean, he seemed so nice, and he was kind of cute, too.”
Where, Jen wondered, did the public get the common misconception that deranged killers all had deformed faces and drooling mouths and acted like something out of horror movie, when in actual fact they often turned out to be the boy next door.
According to Sandy, she’d heard the bartender with red hair call the man “Troy.” Jen made a note to ask Rick about his friend.
“Who had Vicki been dating?”
“No one special.” Sandy shrugged. “She’d had a few dates with a guy who works for the Health Department. City, not county. His name is Steve Cochran. I guess they dated about a month, but they stopped a few weeks ago. I know last week she had a date with a guy she used to go with in high school. His name is Ron Wilson.”
“Does Cochran or Wilson have a red Corvette?”
“Steve does. How’d you know?”
“Her ex mentioned having seen her in a red Corvette with a guy who had brown hair and a beard.”
“That sounds like Steve.”
“Why did they break up?”
“Sex. He wanted it, and she didn’t.”
“Would he have been upset about the breakup, do you think, or that she was going out with an old boyfriend?”
“I don’t know. Vicki told me their relationship wasn’t anything serious, but you never know about guys. They can get really weird about things like that.”
“What about her other activities?” Jen said. “I understand she belonged to the BodyFit Athletic Club. Did she go out with anyone she met there?”
“Now that you mention it, that’s where she met Steve. I’d forgotten about that.”
“How else did she spend her time?”
“That was about it…other than work.”
“What about weird phone calls or prowlers? Had she had any trouble with that sort of thing?”
“No, I’m sure of that.” Sandy shuddered. “Vicki would have told me. She was still nervous living alone.”
“How about her ex-husband? Had he given her any problems?”
“Not since she got rid of him.” Sandy snorted in disgust. “All that loser ever did was smoke dope and screw around. She said when she told him to get out, all he said was ‘okay’ and did she care if he took the recliner.”
“Well,” Jen said, standing, “You’ve been very patient with me, and I really appreciate it.”
“I just wish there was more that I could do.” Sandy eyes filled with tears. “She was my friend, and I loved her.”
Jen’s heart went out to the young woman. It was hard to lose someone at any time in your life, but to lose someone so young and in such a violent manner…on impulse, she stepped forward and hugged Sandy. Stepping back, she handed the girl her card.
“My cell number is on there, too,” she said. “If you think of anything—any time day or night—call me.”
“You really want to get this guy, don’t you?”
“In the worst way.”
“I’m glad. It makes me feel a little better.” Sandy smiled at Jen through her tears. Jen squeezed her hand and turned to go. “Detective Dillon?”
“Jen. Please.”
Sandy nodded. “Jen. Good luck. Please catch that monster. For Vicki. And for me.”
CHAPTER 17
Jen called Lonnie from the hospital and gave him the names she’d gotten from Sandy. She wanted to interview Cochran as soon as possible. Since he worked for the local health department, she knew Lonnie should be able to arrange it quietly. She didn’t want to cause a fellow city employee any more trouble at his work than necessary. A glance at her watch and the rumbling of her stomach told her it was time to head for her favorite diner.
After lunch, she found Lonnie had set up interviews with both Steve Cochran and Ron Wilson. Will had asked to sit in on them. By 1:30, Jen and Al were seated on one side of the conference room table, Will across from them, and Steve Cochran at the head of the table.
Cochran was, as Jamie would have said, a hunk. It wasn’t that he was especially handsome, although he wasn’t hard on the eyes by anyone’s standards. He was thirty and well built, with intense brown eyes and sun-streaked brown hair and short, well-trimmed beard. But his attractiveness was more than the sum total of his looks. It was more like what the marketing industry would call animal magnetism, and Jen could recognize it for the appeal it had.
However, with Will in the room, Steve Cochran seemed to fade into the drywall. Will’s attention was ostensibly on Cochran, but from time to time, Jen would look up to find his warm blue eyes on her. When that happened, she felt her heart do a little flip-flop and her breath quicken. She wondered how much time she would have to spend around the man before she became used to his presence.
“Yes, I dated Vicki,” Cochran said in response to Al’s question. “It was terrible what happened to her. I’d like to get my hands on the SOB that was responsible.”
“So would we,” Al said. “How did you meet Ms. Kaufmann?”
“At BodyFit Athletic Club. We were both members. I liked her, so I asked her out.”
“How serious was it between you two?” Jen said.
“It wasn’t. I liked her, and I guess she liked me. But we weren’t committed to anything. I guess you know she was divorced, but she hadn’t been on her own long enough to be interested in that even if I had been. I wasn’t seriously involved with her or anyone else at the time.”
Cochran paused and gave Jen a little smile.
“I’m still not.”
Jen got the message. Across the table, Will shifted position. She resisted the urge to sneak a glance at him.
“So it wouldn’t have bothered you,” Al said, “when she went out with her old boyfriend?”
“Which old boyfriend was that?”
“Let’s see, what was his name? Oh, yes, here it is. Wilson. Ron Wilson. They’d dated in high school.”
“Right. I remember.” Cochran’s jaw looked a little tight. “No, why should it? If she wanted to date the blue-collar type, that was her privilege.”
It always amazed Jen how quickly some men could lose their sex appeal just by opening their mouths. In the space of a few seconds, Cochran had gone from hunk to meathead. She glanced at Al, and he gave a slight nod. It was time for the only woman in the room to do a little prodding.
“How long have you been a member of BodyFit?” she said.
“Ever since it opened.”
“Do you go there often?”
“Nearly every day.”
“I suppose you dated some of the other women you met there?”
“Guilty.” Cochran smiled what Jen supposed he thought was a charming smile.
“Did you ever know a woman named Carla Edwards?”
“I don’t think so.” He laughed. “Is she good-looking?”
“She’s dead,” Jen said flatly. “Or don’t you read the papers? She was the killer’s second victim.”
Cochran was silent for a few seconds, looking from Jen to Al to Will, then back at Jen.
“I’m starting to get some bad vibes here,” he said. “Are you trying to connect me with both these women or what? Do you think I killed Vicki?”
“We don’t think anything at the moment, Mr. Cochran.” Al took over, his tone mild and reasonable. “But we have to question anyone and everyone that Ms. Kaufmann knew. I’m sure you can understand that. And since Ms. Edwards was also a member of BodyFit, we have to ask if you knew her.”
“Okay.” Cochran straightened in his chair. “I g
uess this is necessary, even if it does make me uncomfortable. As far as I know, I didn’t know this Edwards girl. Maybe I might recognize a picture, but the name doesn’t ring a bell.”
Jen handed a snapshot to Cochran. It was one they’d taken from the dead woman’s apartment. She would have liked to show him one taken at the crime scene to see his reaction.
“I don’t know.” Cochran swallowed rapidly a couple of times. His eyes shifted to Al, then Will, then Jen, and back down to the photo. “No, I don’t know her.”
He handed the snapshot back to Jen quickly, as if it were suddenly hot. Jen and Will exchanged glances.
“Are you sure you don’t know her?” Jen said.
“Sure, I’m sure. I mean, I may have seen her around the club, but I don’t recall.”
“Okay. Let’s go back to Vicki Kaufmann. When was the last time you saw her?”
“At least three weeks ago.” Cochran looked relieved at the change of subject. “We went out to dinner. I assume that’s what you mean. I did see her after that at the club, but we hadn’t gone out or anything.”
“Why so long?”
“She was busy. I guess her social calendar was full.”
“I thought you said you didn’t know she was dating other men.”
“I didn’t say that.” He looked angry. “I just said I didn’t know about that Wilson fellow. So what’s the problem?”
“I don’t have a problem.” Jen smiled. “Do you have one?”
He glared at her.
“No, I don’t.”
“So…you’re telling us that you hadn’t seen Ms. Kaufmann for approximately three weeks,” she said. “Is that right?”
“No, it’s not right. I said that was the last time we’d gone out. Like I told you, I had seen her at the club.”
“Is that the only place you saw her?”
Cochran nodded, his jaw clenched. He glanced at Al, as if looking for some support, but Al had busied himself with the papers in a folder.
“Well, now, you know that’s really strange.” Jen’s tone grew hard. “Since we have a witness who says he saw you parked in front of Ms. Kaufmann’s home a week ago.”