Death Notice

by Lolli Powell

“Maybe so, but now that he knows we’re on to him, he’s going to be even more unpredictable.”

  Reyna Lin had lived alone in a duplex on Collins Avenue. An angry crowd had gathered behind the yellow police tape. The coroner’s wagon and several marked and unmarked units were parked at the curb. As she and Will walked to the front door, she noticed that the windows in the other unit were bare. Vacant, she thought. I’d bet a paycheck on it.

  The scene was a replay of the four before it, the only difference being that the bruises weren’t quite as evident on Reyna’s smooth brown skin. A white pillowcase had been tied around the victim’s neck with a black satin ribbon. It now lay on the nightstand in an evidence bag, and Jen averted her eyes from the expression of horror that was frozen for eternity in the muscles of the young woman’s face.

  Al and Lonnie were leaning against a counter in the kitchen. Lonnie looked tired and sick. Al looked up, and his eyes locked on Jen’s. She stared back for a moment, reading his mind, before turning away.

  Lonnie filled them in on what they knew so far. Jen had been right about the other half of the duplex being vacant. A neighbor had been awakened by a woman screaming a little after four and had called the police. The neighbor hadn’t been able to tell dispatch where the scream came from. A squad car had been dispatched, but when they arrived, the neighborhood was quiet. They had cruised for a while, then left, writing it off as a domestic disturbance that had calmed down.

  Reyna’s mother had found her. She lived nearby and had a key to her daughter’s place. The two of them attended church together every Sunday, and she had come to pick her daughter up as usual. The woman had managed to give a statement and had then been taken off by relatives.

  The morning was spent going over the inside and outside of the crime scene, carefully looking for anything that might tell them more than the little they already knew about the killer. But they found nothing more than they had before—a wet towel and a few strands of hair. It was as if he had come out of thin air just as it had seemed the night before at Sue Carpenter’s house that he had vanished into it.

  When they got to the building a little after noon, Buchan’s car was in the garage, and Lonnie had a message instructing him to report to the chief’s office. Will asked to accompany him.

  Al waited until Lonnie’s office door shut behind the two men before turning to Jen.

  “What happened last night?” The tone of his voice bordered on accusatory.

  “What do you mean, what happened?” Jen felt her anger start to rise. “We didn’t get him, that’s what happened. He gave us the slip.”

  She slammed her purse down on the desk.

  “Where do you get off asking me what happened in that tone of voice? The way you sound, you’d think we let him get away on purpose.”

  Al looked at her, his eyes blazing, and then turned away. His shoulders slumped, and Jen was suddenly sorry she had unloaded on him. The strain was getting to all of them, but that was no reason to take it out on each other.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like I thought you all didn’t do your job. I just hoped…”

  He stopped and took a deep breath.

  “When I heard the radio traffic last night, I started hoping that it would all be over. That I wouldn’t have to think about it anymore.”

  Jen crossed the small office and put her arms around Al’s neck, hugging him close.

  “I’m the one who should be sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”

  She pulled back, her hands still on his arms, and looked him in the eyes.

  “Last night I kept thinking about the things you said. I don’t want them to come true, Al. If we’d gotten him, they wouldn’t have. They still don’t have to, but it scares me to think what you’ll do if you get the chance.”

  “It scares me, too.” He pulled away and walked to Lonnie’s file cabinet. He pulled several sheets of paper from a drawer. “We’d better get started on this last list before they get back. There’s over forty names here to check.”

  Looks like this discussion is over, Jen thought. She started to say more, to push Al, but she stopped. She could see from his face that he was done talking about what he might do if he came face to face with the killer.

  Lonnie and Will weren’t gone long. The chief was shifting operations into even higher gear. It was only a matter of time until the word got out that the killer had almost been caught before this last murder, but the police had let him slip through their fingers. Chief Buchan couldn’t afford to let such stories circulate for long. It wasn’t good for his image. He’d promised them all the manpower they needed to cover every name on every list. Whatever his personal motives, Jen was thankful for that.

  “Why not tell the women they’re in danger?” Al said. “Some of them would probably go stay with other people, and that would make covering the rest a little easier.”

  “For now, we’re not telling them anything,” Lonnie said. “If we did, somebody would be bound to talk about it, and he’d know we had it figured out.”

  “Don’t you think he does anyway after last night?” Jen said.

  “Maybe, maybe not,” Will cut in. “It could be he just thinks we figured it out about the one list. Or for all he knows, we could have been there on a routine prowler complaint. I don’t doubt that he’ll be more careful now, but I don’t think he’ll stop. I don’t think he can.”

  Jen knew they were right. Still, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for the women. It seemed immoral to not tell them they were being stalked.

  “So how do we cover all these targets?”

  “The chief has authorized all the overtime we need,” Lonnie said. “So has the sheriff. Both departments are also getting hold of the reserve captains. There’s close to forty reserve officers between the county and us. They can team up with a regular officer to work surveillance, or they can fill in on the street to free up our people.”

  The reserve units were made up of volunteer law officers. They received basic police training and had uniforms and weapons furnished; in exchange, they committed themselves to working a minimum of eight hours a month for a dollar a year. They were men and women whose real love lay with law enforcement but who couldn’t afford to give up lucrative careers in other fields.

  “The chief’s getting in touch with some of the surrounding towns,” Lonnie continued. “He’ll probably be able to get a few people out of the ones that haven’t already committed officers to the task force.”

  Jen was impressed. For the first time since the fiasco of the night before, she felt hopeful. It might take a small army to do it, but with all that manpower, they were bound to get him sooner or later. She hoped it would be sooner.

  CHAPTER 46

  The rest of the day was routine activity, but by four that afternoon, they knew which women on all the lists lived alone. There were thirteen besides Carpenter from the first two lists. The final list, the one with Reyna Lin’s name, contained eleven who lived alone and had initiated their divorces. Deleting Lin’s name, that left ten more women to guard for a total of twenty-three. Lonnie assigned officers to cover the women, and then the four of them went home to get ready for an event that none relished.

  Trish’s body had not been released yet, and when it was, it would be cremated per Trish’s wishes, but a memorial service and reception was scheduled for that evening. The service was at six, with the reception to follow. Will dropped her off on the way to his motel, promising to pick her up at five-thirty.

  Brandon had returned from his trip and was sitting in front of the television playing his Xbox. Based on the score, he was on his way to breaking a personal record, but he turned off the game when she came in.

  “Hey, Mom.” He hugged her tightly. “Are you okay?”

  “Of course I’m okay.” She hugged him back. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “We heard about the new murder on our way back from the river. They said the killer almost got
caught last night, but he got away. Were you there?”

  So the word was out. Jen was surprised it had taken the media this long.

  “Yes, I was.” She kicked off her shoes and dropped onto the couch, suddenly feeling very, very tired. “We’re pretty sure it was him. He went after the girl that Vic Hensley and a deputy were watching.”

  “Where do you think he went?”

  “No idea,” Jen said. “Vic said the last thing he saw was a man moving toward the rear of the house. That’s where Hank and I were, and he never came past us.”

  “Maybe Vic imagined he saw him.”

  “I don’t think so. We found a place in the bushes where the branches were broken and the grass smashed down. Someone was standing there, all right.”

  “He couldn’t have just disappeared.” Brandon sounded exasperated.

  “I’m beginning to wonder,” Jen said, more to herself than to Brandon. “So, sport, what do you say we fix some dinner, and you tell me about your weekend?”

  “Sure.” Brandon hesitated and then looked at her shyly. “Are you going to stay home tonight?”

  “Not all night, I’m afraid.” She watched his expression change. The killings had him scared, but his fear was more for her than for himself. “Tonight is the memorial service for Trish. I’ll only be gone a couple hours or so. Then I’ll be home, and I’ll bring Will with me.”

  “Good.” Brandon perked up at the mention of Will’s name. “Mom, do you think I could go to the service with you? I’d kind of like to.”

  Jen was surprised. She hadn’t even thought to ask him. She realized now that was because she still thought of him as a little boy. But he’d always liked Trish, and he was involved in this case because he was her son and worried about her. It was only natural he would want to be with her tonight.

  “Of course you can go,” she said. “I’d like that. I just didn’t know if you’d want to.”

  “Mothers don’t know everything.”

  No, they sure don’t, Jen thought, ruffling his hair while he ducked and protested.

  She fixed hamburgers and frozen french fries. While they ate, Brandon regaled her with stories of his adventures at the lake. Afterward, she showered and dressed in a conservative black pantsuit with a grey blouse.

  Brandon was waiting for her in the living room. Earlier she had started to choose his clothes for him but stopped, reminding herself that he was no longer a little child requiring constant supervision. He had lived up to her expectations. He was dressed impeccably in his good—and only—suit, with a white shirt and a clip-on tie. Will arrived a few minutes later, and the three of them left for the funeral home.

  The service was crowded, both with police officers and civilians, many of them the families of officers. Trish’s mother was pointed out before the minister spoke, and they went to offer condolences. Jen saw resentment in the woman’s reddened eyes. She didn’t know if it was resentment that Jen was alive while her daughter was dead or resentment that Jen had gotten Trish involved in this case. Trish’s mother had no way of knowing that Trish had been marked for death the day she filed for divorce. Jen offered brief condolences and turned away from the accusatory eyes.

  The minister kept his talk short, and afterward people mingled, sharing reminiscences about Trish. The time sped by with people coming and going. Brandon didn’t seem bored, and Jen was impressed with how mature he acted. She also did not miss the way he looked at Will with open admiration or the way that Will patted his shoulder from time to time and smiled at him. She realized that, to a stranger, the three of them looked like a family. The thought warmed her.

  They drove home in silence. Even Brandon seemed subdued. He excused himself soon after they got home, pleading fatigue. Jen suspected the experience at the funeral home had bothered him more than he let on, but she decided to let him work it out for himself.

  She got two cold beers from the refrigerator, and she and Will settled down on the couch, the stereo turned low to a blues station. She squirmed in under Will’s arm, laying her head on his shoulder.

  “Tired?” He kissed her on the forehead.

  “A little,” she said. “Bummed out, more than anything.”

  “I know the feeling.”

  “Do you think anything will happen tonight?”

  “After last night, I wouldn’t expect it, but who knows? Something’s driving him to kill and kill more often.”

  “Maybe he just likes it.” Jen shivered.

  They sat for a while in silence, Jen leaning against the hard strength of Will’s shoulder. The music was soothing, and she closed her eyes, listening only to it and blocking out thoughts of the killer. The next thing she knew, Will was shaking her gently.

  “Let’s go to bed.”

  “Smooth talker,” Jen mumbled and let him lead her to the bed. He lay her down gently and began to undress her, but before he got to the good parts, she was asleep.

  ***

  The man who used to be Arthur Kelty did not feel good. The headache was there, but it was slight and bearable. It was something else, a vague feeling of anxiety, a feeling of something not yet finished.

  He watched the news at six but didn’t feel the usual thrill when he saw his exploits on the screen. Even the excitement of the kill itself had been short-lived. He suspected that just any kill could no longer satisfy now that he had found Will Anderson.

  He dozed during the evening but woke in time to watch the news at eleven. Still feeling little satisfaction as the newscaster recapped the story, his finger was poised on the remote’s OFF button when suddenly he saw his nemesis on the screen. The TV camera was aimed at the front of a funeral home, and the reporter delivered the news that this was the site of the memorial service for the slain police officer.

  The agent was entering the front door of the funeral parlor, one hand on Jen Dillon’s back as he ushered her in ahead of him, the other on the shoulder of a young boy. Just before he stepped through the door, the child turned and glanced back at the camera. He stared at the child’s innocent face and almost felt more hatred for the mother than he did for Anderson. Almost, but not quite.

  They would be his next kills. He knew that nothing less would still the discontent that ate at him. He would do them, and in so doing, he would free that young boy.

  He felt something on his cheek. Reaching up, he found to his surprise that it was a tear. He wiped it away angrily and switched the set off.

  CHAPTER 47

  The following week fulfilled their worst expectations. Nothing happened. The week after was the same. Although they didn’t voice their fears, Jen knew the rest of the task force was thinking what she was thinking, that Arthur Kelty—if that’s who the killer was—had followed in his father’s footsteps and gone to find other hunting grounds.

  The department received generous assistance from the surrounding towns in terms of loaner officers to assist in surveillance. The reserve units had proven their worth as well with many reserve officers using vacation time from their regular jobs in order to help out. Regular duty officers often looked down on the volunteer cops, labeling them hotshots who liked to play cops and robbers, but this was one time everyone was glad to have them.

  At the end of the first week following Trish’s memorial service, Will had moved out of the motel and in with Jen and Brandon. Jen could imagine her mother telling her in a shocked voice that she was setting a bad example for her son by living with a man in an unmarried state, but she refused to be a hypocrite. Besides, Brandon obviously felt that both he and his mother were far safer with Will on the premises. Jen refused to deny him that peace of mind, just as she refused to deny them both the pleasure of Will’s company.

  Their lovemaking grew more fulfilling with each passing day, but there were times they avoided it altogether and simply lay in each other’s arms, talking until they fell asleep. She loved the closeness, and she loved the way Brandon sparkled when Will was around.

  What would happen when the Spec
ial Agent in Charge of Will’s Chicago office decided he’d spent enough time on a case that didn’t seem to be going anywhere…well, that was something Jen tried not to think about.

  The weekend after Will moved in, the three of them drove to a small town thirty miles from Indianapolis. There she and Brandon were introduced to Will’s ex-wife, Gloria, and her husband, along with Will’s three children. Gloria seemed genuine in her welcome, and Jen warmed to the woman immediately.

  The children, Lisa, Michael, and Christina, were adorable. It was obvious Brandon liked them, too, especially Lisa who was a cute twelve-year-old with curly black hair. Jen and Will took the four children to a nearby state park for the day, and by the time they dropped Will’s kids off that evening, Jen was pretty sure her son was deep in the throes of his first dose of puppy love.

  The following Monday, Jen was relieved and happy to learn that Mary Tyler, the young girl involved in the hit-skip, would fully recover from her injuries, although she’d have a long road to get there. No lawsuit had been filed yet in connection with the accident. The law department’s attorneys had taken statements from Jen and Carter Holiday, her mailman witness, and they expressed their confidence to her that they would be able to win any suit that might be brought.

  Internal affairs had also started their investigation, and they had indicated to her that there seemed to be no cause for concern regarding disciplinary action. Still, having possible repercussions from her actions at the hit-and-run was a strain added to the tension of trying to find the killer.

  She and Will split surveillance duties for two reasons. Lonnie wanted them split up so one or the other would always be able to report in for day shift to continue the routine part of the investigation, but the other reason was personal. Will had suggested one of them be with Brandon as much as possible when he wasn’t in school, and Jen was touched by his concern for her child.

  Friday morning of the second week of surveillance found Jen, Will, Al, and Lonnie sitting glumly around the desk in Lonnie’s office. Will and Al had pulled surveillance together the evening before but had turned it over to other officers at midnight so they could be in the office at a reasonable hour the next day.The four of them had been there for an hour, drinking coffee and trying to decide on a course of action.