“That itself is another shift. Jenna walked back to her apartment after the concert. Tammy would have driven. And Tammy doesn’t live alone, not a setup for someone lying in wait. Then there’s the time gap. Tammy went to a concert on Friday night, but she didn’t disappear until Sunday evening. Why stick around? The building location and roommate presence can be explained away, but the time delay? Why stay from Friday night to Sunday if he came to town just for the concert?”
“It doesn’t make sense that he would,” David agreed, “unless this is where he lives, and Chicago—Jenna—was his road trip. He wants to target Tammy but has to work around the shared apartment, and it’s a hard crime to pull off. Maybe Tammy was always the real target and he used Jenna a hundred miles away as a practice run. Jenna was easier—lived alone, walked home. Then he came back and went after Tammy, his intention all along.”
Evie considered it and felt the case slide onto a new footing. “That would solve a lot. Jenna is a clean crime, so even if hers was a practice run, it’s still probably not his first. Let’s look through crime reports from this area for his first crime. Maybe the move to a college girl developed as a way to blend in when out of town. Your suggestion about music as his world still seems the likely way we tap him. We begin with Tammy and Jenna both at Triple M concerts. He’s choosing them because they’re overlapping into his chosen world of music. Maybe he’s a music major—not at Jenna’s college, but here in Milwaukee.”
David started the vehicle and kicked on the heater, let the engine idle while they talked. “I like the feel of it being a college-age guy. If someone sees Tammy with him, they just think ‘new boyfriend,’ not registering that this is someone to be worried about.”
“I lean toward young too,” Evie replied. “The more I think about Jenna Greenhill and why she went missing . . . it’s not her—the fact she liked strawberries and read philosophy and studied biology and wanted her postgrad work to focus on the genome—none of that is relevant. He wanted the outline of her. He wanted the female college student who liked Triple M music, who had a nice smile. I believe he chose her that night at the concert. He followed her home. And he took her. Tammy sort of fits that profile, but her disappearance . . . it feels different.
“Why Tammy?” she asked, continuing her deliberations. “What did he see that made him choose her? You’re talking serious premeditation to practice with a crime just to commit another crime. We need to understand a whole lot better who Tammy is.” And even as Evie said it, she found herself looking over at David and shaking her head. “No. It’s not this. Feel how complex the motive just got when I made that proposition. A college guy wanting Tammy picks her off coming out of work one evening; he doesn’t do a trial-run homicide to practice how to grab her. If Tammy was his target, he would have gone for her first.”
“Yeah, it gets complex with our proposed age of the offender,” David said. “It’s linear—Jenna then Tammy then Virginia, with a common motive threading through. Maybe a growing addiction to abduction and killing?”
“Which brings us back to the core question. Was Tammy one of his, or is this simply a girl who took off once again, looking for a different life but ran into trouble? She liked music, had even sung a bit to earn pocket money, yet the rest doesn’t fit Jenna.”
“Consider this possibility,” David offered as he checked traffic and pulled out of the parking lot. “Assume Jenna is his. He’s attending a Triple M concert the next state over, away from home, enjoying his night as a young man surrounded by college girls, and something clicks. He wants an even more exciting end to this special night. So he lifts Jenna’s driver’s license, stakes out her place, abducts and murders her, hides her body, and he gets away with it. It goes so well for him that the parts of that night form one cohesive whole. A year later when he goes hunting again, wanting the same thrill, he starts with the same band Triple M, same choice of a girl attending the concert, so he can experience it all again.”
“That connection works for me, David—the first murder setting the parameters he’s going to consider important.”
David nodded. “Part of the whole, the memory he’s trying to re-create. And it’s the outlier components that might make Tammy one of his. Assume for now this is his hometown. To act here is more risky, a place where he’s known. But Triple M is literally coming right to his doorstep. He wants that thrill again. So he goes to the concert, planning to re-create his success. He sees Tammy there that Friday night, lifts her license, wants to do something, but once he sees the building and the roommate situation, he loses the nerve. He walks away from the evening he had built up in his mind, totally frustrated. He thinks about it for forty-eight hours—stews about it. She’s right there in his hometown, drives by her place several times, getting more frustrated, and then he’s got up his nerve again. He’s able to snatch Tammy when she’s on her own, out of the sight of witnesses, does the crime in his hometown, gets away with it.
“He’s had two successes now. He’s enjoying this. But he’s learning. He goes farther afield for the next one, to Indiana. He keeps the constants he likes: Triple M concert, the driver’s license to see where she lives, get there ahead of her. But he’s out of the area quicker. He doesn’t take time to hide the body now. He’s deciding what is necessary to protect his identity and what he doesn’t need to care about. He’s has a third success with Virginia.” David’s voice turned hard. “But he doesn’t go quiet. Not for six years. Not if Jenna and Tammy and Virginia are all his kills.”
Evie was nodding even before David finished. “That fits, David. I really think you just nailed it. Illinois with a Triple M concert and Jenna. So target another Triple M concert in his hometown, select Tammy, persist even when it doesn’t go as planned, succeed again. Move on to Indiana and Virginia Fawn with what he’s learned. This time leave the body rather than take time to dispose of it.”
“He persisted with Tammy because he could. We shift our focus, as he likely lives around here,” David said. “So the question on the table now is how do we want to start that search?”
“Someone who lives here, has traveled to Illinois, to Indiana—let’s start with speeding tickets in Wisconsin heading south around the dates of interest. He’s got a long journey ahead, I bet he ignores the speed limit leaving town, wanting to get the road trip behind him. And music majors at the local college are still a good fit. Anyone in Maggie’s fan base who lives in Wisconsin? I think it’s the same set of questions we’re asking about Jenna, just changing venue. And we’ll want to add anyone who went to Brighton College who previously lived in Wisconsin, whether they graduated or not.” Evie had her notepad out. “Anything else come to mind?”
“Local crimes here. You don’t start at murder. It’s a small enough town the police probably knew the names of the teen boys they wanted to keep an eye on.”
“Saul had research material on a Wisconsin high school running back,” Evie said. “We need to look at why.”
“He’s here, Evie. Somewhere around here.”
“It feels good to have the sense we’re on the trail now.”
David glanced over, offered a wry smile. “Or we’ve just talked ourselves into a detour. Keep that in mind. All of this could be a rabbit trail.”
“I always keep that in mind. The most brilliant ideas can turn out to be errors. You just don’t know it until it plays out if you’re setting up to whiff the ball or hit a home run. A batting average of one in three is still really good, so I’ve learned to love brilliant ideas—eventually that’s where you succeed.”
“I’ve got a baseball fan riding with me?” David chuckled. “Nice. Where to next?”
She checked her watch. “Let’s head over to the police station and the conference call with Indiana. Then let’s talk to Tammy’s parents, hopefully get some more names of friends to talk with while we’re here. After that, back south. It’s time to start generating more lists. I’m going to shoot these ideas on to Ann, let her add more queries to t
he database work she’s doing for us.”
“Don’t tell me how many cases she’s found overlapping Triple M concerts. I want to see the details when I hear that bad news.”
Evie glanced over at him. “The last time I asked that question, Ann said, ‘Ask me later, and keep your focus on Tammy.’ She’s keeping us in the dark. But whatever the answer, we’re going to find the guy and end this. It could be soon with the thread we’ve got to pull.”
“I sincerely hope so. I don’t want to even consider the implications for Maggie if we haven’t resolved the case by her next concert. She’s got one at the McCormick Center on March seventh.”
Six weeks. Evie prayed it didn’t take them that long. “There’s time,” she said.
Just after seven p.m. they rejoined Ann at the Ellis office complex. “I’ll carry my backpack and your briefcase,” Evie offered, “if you can manage that box Tammy’s parents gave us.”
“Thanks.” David slid over his briefcase. “Don’t wait for me—it’s cold out here. The box is heavy, but I’ll be able to open the doors.”
Evie didn’t need further encouragement. She headed toward the building as he retrieved the banker box from the trunk. Everything Tammy Preston’s parents had pursued to find their daughter was highlighted in the materials. They pleaded with them to read through it—they hadn’t given up the hope she’d simply run off and might be out there, still alive.
The first thing Evie spotted as she pushed open the office doors was a large fruit tray on the first desk, then a tall bouquet of flowers and glass bottles of Carin County Root Beer chilling in a chest of ice. The flowers she could easily guess were from Rob, who loved sending arrangements to brighten her temporary offices. The fruit and cold drinks—Paul, she thought, a gift for Ann, with likely their mutual friend Gabriel Thane’s involvement. The local brand of root beer was one of the best exports Carin County offered. She scanned the rest of the room, and her sense of order settled.
The head of the Chicago FBI office, Paul Falcon, was sitting at her desk, munching from a big bag of M&M’s. The other desks were equally occupied.
“Welcome home. We migrated,” said Sharon.
“So I see, boss. Hello to all of you.” She nodded at Theo and Taylor, put down the briefcase and backpack, shed her coat, and stepped out of her boots. It felt . . . nice, walking in and finding friends at the end of a taxing day.
David came in and stopped, equally surprised.
“There’s room for that box over here,” Theo said, pointing.
Evie waved at Paul to stay seated and simply perched on the edge of her desk. “Where’s Ann?”
“Food run. I type faster than she does, and more people scurry around when I ask a question.” He smiled as he said it and reached over to pull up a nearby chair. “Sit, kiddo. We’re up to speed on Tammy Preston—Ann’s filled us in on your notes. We thought it would be useful to push the rest of this question into place tonight so that you and David can catch your breath.”
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” David stated, interpreting why everyone was here. “The number of Triple M matches?”
“Not so bad,” Sharon said firmly. “Sit. Drink. Eat. We’ll drag out the whiteboard with details after you’ve gotten some food in you.”
Evie was ready to hand the weight of the day off to the others. She settled into the chair Paul had offered. “Pass me a root beer, David, and someone tell me what Ann is bringing in.”
“Sautéed chicken, baked potatoes, coleslaw,” Theo replied. “Ann’s putting it on Paul’s credit card since the FBI is being nice to us tonight.”
“So you’ve solved your missing high school student?” Evie asked Theo.
He smiled. “No shoptalk for thirty minutes. But yes. I’m in a race with Taylor for who gets a closed file first.”
“I’m in the race for last,” Evie figured. “I want one-sentence updates before I eat. Taylor?”
“I’m ninety percent solved, but he’s dead.”
“Sharon?”
“Eighty, but only because I don’t want to show too much optimism. Mine are alive.”
“Three closed out of five, with people alive in one,” Evie summed up. “Not for public notice, but that’s a great outcome.”
“I certainly can live with it,” Sharon agreed. “We’ll get Jenna and Saul figured out and make it five for five.” She came over to offer a chocolate chip cookie from a bakery bag. “The flowers have your name on them, Evie. I’ve been dying to ask. Your guy?”
“I’ll look at the card later, but I would assume so. Rob likes sending beautiful arrangements.”
“Nice.” Sharon pulled over a chair, and Evie asked her about any new wedding plans, more than willing to stay with the no-work rule for a while longer.
The group migrated to the conference room for their meal, moving folders aside to make space. The chicken was delicious, and talking slowed as they enjoyed it. Evie was well satisfied as she finished her coleslaw and final dinner roll. She let the conversation drift around her, about sports and politics and family.
She already found the task force easy to be with. David was now involved in a detailed conversation with Paul and was more animated and relaxed than he’d been in days. Paul was drawing the rules of an aerial golf competition on the back of napkins. Drones would soon be changing sports, creating brand-new ones, if the people Paul talked with were to be believed. Drone golf, coming to the sky near you. Evie had to smile—such a guy thing. She’d impress Rob with her bit of insider sports information when they had their next dinner.
Ann caught her attention and nodded toward the outer office. Evie picked up her root beer, joined her friend. “You put together a really nice evening—feel free to do this anytime you like,” Evie mentioned.
“It sort of evolved when Paul decided he could spare a few hours of his Saturday to help out on the database work. Then Sharon called.”
With just the two of them in the room, Evie crossed to the flowers, pulled out the envelope, checked her name on the front, and drew out the card. She hadn’t done so earlier because occasionally Rob wrote delightfully personal messages she wouldn’t want to share with the others. She smiled, and because Ann was someone who would understand, offered her the card.
It was a sketched drawing of an archer with a bull’s-eye, an arrow in flight.
“You know I have my reservations about him, Evie, but this”—Ann held up the card—“Evie’s on target. Without needing to say the words, Rob is encouraging. I’m glad to see it.”
“He gets me, Ann, in some ways better than I do myself. I don’t have to wonder if he asked me to marry him with a misguided sense of who I’d be as his wife. We’re very much mismatched in other ways, yet he sees that as a good thing. He likes the counterbalance.”
“Well, the flowers are lovely, the message even more so. I see what you mean about his liking to brighten your life.”
Evie studied the floral arrangement. “I feel uncomfortable about the price tag, but I also have a sweet spot for beauty. I think these are tiger lilies,” she said, lightly touching a petal. “And whatever the purple ones are, they always make me smile.”
“I admit, I elbowed Paul. ‘Look what Evie’s guy sends her!’”
Evie laughed. “Yeah. It feels good to be romanced.”
The group came trailing in, and David leaned back against one of the desks. “I’m grateful to you all for the help, the hours of work on a weekend, and the meal. It’s appreciated. But it’s time. Let’s get the bad news over with.”
Sharon nodded. “Theo.”
Theo rolled a whiteboard out from the storage closet—Ann’s handwriting—neat, precise, accompanied by photos.
Not as bad as Evie was braced for. She glanced at David, saw fleeting relief on his face. Not nearly as bad as he, too, had been prepared to see.
“Five cases,” Ann said into the now-quiet room. “We’re pretty sure it’s only five, David. We’ve searched every concert date and location Triple M
has played in the past. We’ve been debating case details for a few hours, eliminating those we conclude didn’t align.
“In date order, Chicago, Wisconsin, Indiana, Ohio, and back again to Indiana. Jenna Greenhill, Tammy Preston, Virginia Fawn, plus now Emily Close and Laura Ship.
“The Triple M concert connection held for the five, though there were differences on other case details. Three bodies have been found, all smothered. Two still missing—Jenna and Tammy.
“He’s traveling. Even the crimes have a travel component to them,” Ann continued. “The bodies were on back roads outside of town. Lived here, found here. Lived here, found here,” she indicated on printed maps. “The yellow dots are the concert venues. Not all these victims walked home from the concerts—some lived miles away.
“He’s choosing reasonably big cities,” Ann suggested, “good-sized concert turnouts, college towns. He grabs and goes. That’s what it looks like on first review. Someone able to blend with the college crowd, maybe drives a van, likely a van. He’s waiting at her place, comes at her when her guard is down. Then hauls the body away in the middle of the night. There are no signs of a break-in at these apartments. But the overall essence of the crimes suggests he might be picking their locks and getting inside, lying in wait. Theo suggested we should be looking for a teen with a B&E conviction—where he got his confidence—or even a locksmith now in training. He isn’t worried about how to get access without witnesses.”
“What you two have theorized about Wisconsin and Tammy,” Sharon said, picking up the summary, “makes a lot of sense for the trigger. He was successful with Jenna, that set a pattern in his mind, and he’s been re-creating that evening. The concert, the lifted driver’s license, being at the apartment ahead of them. He wants to experience it again. The cause of death for the last three makes it very likely Jenna was smothered too.”
Threads of Suspicion Page 16