After reaching the gate, Rowland stood on the other side of it and said nothing. The dogs stayed nearby but were sniffing the wet grass for game.
“These people are here from the FBI, Joey,” Chief Connors said.
“My name is Jude Rowland now, Chief.”
“Whatever you say, but open the gate, Joey, and let us in out of the rain.”
“Why are you here?”
“We have a few questions to ask you, Mr. Rowland. I’m Special Agent Novac of the FBI and this is my partner Special Agent Owens. We would appreciate a few minutes of your time.”
“Ask your questions and I’ll answer them.”
“Open the damn gate, Joey!” the chief shouted. “We’re not doing this out here in the rain.”
“Do you have a warrant to enter my property?”
“A warrant?” the chief said with a laugh. “No, we don’t have a warrant, but I can get one, and I wouldn’t mind searching this compound of yours. Lord only knows what you’ve been up to in there.”
Jude ignored the chief and spoke to Erica. “What is this about?”
Erica was blunt in order to get a reaction.
“Five people have been murdered and the trail leads to you.”
A guilty man could be expected to twitch, or perhaps display nervousness, while an innocent man might show surprise or blink in disbelief. Jude Rowland simply kept staring at her. Chief Connors was right. Jude Rowland was one cool customer.
After another beat passed, Jude pointed at the chief while speaking to Erica.
“I don’t want him or his deputies in my house, but I’ll talk to you and your partner. If that’s not agreeable to you then I’ll say nothing and hire a lawyer.”
Chief Connors shouted at Jude from a red face.
“You don’t dictate terms, asshole. I’m the damn Chief of Police. I’ll enter your house anytime I want.”
“Not today you won’t, Chief,” Erica told him. “This is a federal investigation and we accept Mr. Rowland’s terms. After he opens the gates, I want you and your deputies to stay outside the house while Special Agent Owens and I speak with Mr. Rowland.”
Chief Connors glared at her. “This is my town, lady, not yours.”
Erica was about to threaten the chief with a charge of impeding an investigation, but then decided to ratchet things back a bit. Chief Connors obviously held hatred for Jude Rowland and his family. The chief was also territorial and used to being the big dog of the pack. It wouldn’t help things to alienate the man, so Erica would use flattery to play nice. She moved closer to the chief and spoke in a voice only he and Owens could hear.
“Good job, Chief. Now that we’ve established that I’m the good cop to your bad cop, Rowland may speak more freely to me. Still, I don’t think we should overdo it, so why don’t you let my partner and I handle the interview, okay?”
* * *
Connors stared at Erica with uncertainty for a few seconds. He wasn’t sure if he was being played by her or if his motives had been misconstrued. He was wise enough to know when to back down. Connors knew he was not going to win a battle of jurisdiction with a Fed, even a lady Fed, not when it involved the hunt for a multiple murderer. The hot federal agent was either playing Rowland or playing him, either way, she was going to get what she wanted. The chief released a long breath then gave a single nod of his head.
* * *
“Yeah, all right, you two talk to Joey, but I’ll want to know what was said.”
“Of course, Chief.”
Erica turned away from the chief and sent Jude a smile. “The chief and his people will wait outside. Please open the gate.”
“First I have to place the dogs back in their kennel, then I’ll buzz open the gate.”
“Fine.”
Jude studied her a moment more, glanced at Perkins, then turned to head back to the house.
Owens moved closer to Erica and smiled at her. “You handled the chief well, good work.”
“I learned diplomacy from you. Before we partnered up, I would have been involved in a shouting match with the man.”
“I would have too when I was your age, but I learned that you catch more flies with honey.”
Everyone climbed back into the vehicle to wait for the gate to open. Three minutes passed before the sharp sound of the gate lock disengaging broke through the din of the rain. That was followed by the gate rolling out of the way on its metal wheels, then, Erica was on her way to interview Jude Rowland.
Chapter Eleven
SANGUINE, NEW HAMPSHIRE
Erica and Brad Owens stepped inside Jude’s home as he held the door open for them. After Jude gestured toward a coat rack they could hang their raincoats on, the two shed the wet garments.
Jude led the way out of the foyer and into a cavernous living room. It reminded Erica of a Colorado ski lodge she had visited while on a winter break in college.
The room had thick wooden beams, overstuffed furniture, and a massive fieldstone fireplace. A fresh fire was burning, filling the room with natural warmth and a soothing atmosphere.
Jude sat in a comfortable chair that was so big it swallowed him up. Beside the chair was a lamp and a small round table. There was a book on the table; Erica idly wondered what its title was. Across from the chair was a love seat, which Erica and Owens settled into.
After an awkward silence, Jude spoke to Erica.
“What is this trail that you say leads to me, and who was murdered?”
“Can you tell us where you’ve been the last few weeks, Mr. Rowland?” Erica asked.
“I was out on the road for a time, just driving around aimlessly. It helps me recharge myself.”
“These aimless travels, did they happen to take you as far as Colorado?” Owens asked.
“I didn’t go that far west. But tell me, what is this about?”
“Several people have been murdered in unusual ways. They all had you in common,” Erica said.
“Me? In what way?”
“The victims left negative reviews on your books, in particular, your first Johnny Revenge novel.”
“That novel received many bad reviews when it first came out; it hadn’t yet found its proper audience.”
“The book glorifies a man who hires himself out to get revenge for others, a criminal. It surprises me that it sells at all,” Owens said. He was playing the bad cop to Erica’s good cop, but unlike Chief Connors, Brad Owens was doing it on purpose. It was how he and Erica often worked with male suspects. Erica was an attractive woman; it flattered most men to think she was on their side.
Jude tilted his head to the left. “Are you telling me that someone is murdering people for leaving bad book reviews? That’s insane.”
“Insane but true,” Owens said, “and you don’t appear to have an alibi.”
“That doesn’t make me guilty, and I can account for some of my whereabouts. I remember staying at a hotel one night down in Florida.”
“Only one night?” Erica asked. “And where did you sleep the rest of the time?”
“When I travel, I use a van. It’s comfortable enough with the aid of a sleeping bag.”
Erica and Owens glanced at each other before continuing.
“You own a van?” Erica asked. “There’s no record of it.”
“I borrow it from my friend, Molly Jackson. It belonged to her late husband and she never uses it.”
“What sort of van is it?” Owens asked.
“It’s a Dodge Ram.”
“And it’s color?” Erica said.
“White,” Jude said. “The van is white.”
Erica pointed at the book lying on the table, as curiosity overcame her.
“What are you reading?”
Jude held up the book, which had a blue binding. Erica read the title aloud.
“An essential guide to nuclear power plants and the energy they produce. Why are you reading that?”
“For research purposes for a future novel.”
�
��Do you research many different subjects for your books?”
“Yes.”
Erica watched Jude carefully as she asked, “Have you ever researched vacuum chambers?”
Jude looked thoughtful, as if he were trying to remember something.
“I may have looked into that subject at some point, but I don’t remember off-hand.”
“You play chess, yes?” Owens said.
“Not as much as I used to,” Jude said, “and these days it’s done online.”
“Why only on the computer? Don’t you have any friends, Rowland?”
“I have one friend, but she doesn’t play chess.”
“That’s the friend who has the white van?”
“Yes.”
The two agents spoke with Jude for a while longer while gathering the sparse information he had regarding his recent travels on the road. He also recounted a history of such travels, claiming that it was a habit of his. Jude had given them no reason to strike his name from the suspect list, and in fact, had heightened their suspicions.
* * *
As they were headed out of the house, Erica told Jude that she and Owens would be back for a follow-up interview in the coming days. To her surprise, Jude smiled at her.
“I look forward to seeing you again, Agent Novac.”
The smile was electric. If Jude had smiled at her like that during the interview, Erica would have had trouble concentrating. Spree killer suspect or not, Jude Rowland was one sexy man.
* * *
Erica and Owens rejoined the chief and Deputy Perkins, then drove toward the town, where they had rooms waiting for them for the night. Along the way, Erica filled the chief in on the interview.
“I’m not surprised he doesn’t have an alibi,” the chief said, “and why would a man with as much money as he has sleep in an old van?”
“He might be eccentric,” Erica said.
“Stone cold crazy is more like it,” the chief muttered.
* * *
Jude had watched Erica and Owens drive off with the chief and Linda Perkins by looking at the monitor connected to his cameras.
He’d been distracted by Erica’s beauty and had to concentrate on what he was saying in order to not reveal too much. They would be back with more questions, he was certain of that. Maybe next time he would tell Erica what she needed to know.
* * *
The town’s only hotel turned out to be a quaint white brick affair that was built in the 1920’s. The rooms were a generous size and there was a restaurant nearby that the chief assured them served great food. It was a steak house owned by a cousin of the chief.
Erica and Owens walked into the hotel and looked around. When Erica spotted the desk clerk her mouth parted slightly as her eyes stared with wonder. The desk clerk was a young light-skinned black man with a scruffy beard. If his hair had been straighter and his skin a few shades lighter, Erica would have thought she was looking at Jude Rowland.
Her staring went unnoticed by the clerk because he was engaged in a conversation with another guest of the hotel. It did not go unobserved by Owens. When he followed her gaze, he echoed Erica’s thoughts.
“It looks like Rowland has at least one blood relative in town.”
“Yes,” Erica said.
They went up to the desk to check in and introduced themselves to the clerk. His name was Simon DeVeaux. When Simon discovered that they were FBI agents, his demeanor changed, and his smile faded.
“Um, how long will you be staying here?”
“It’s indefinite right now,” Owens said.
“Oh, okay, give me a shout if you need anything.”
* * *
When she was settled into her room, Erica made plans by phone to meet Owens for dinner at seven. Afterward, she left the hotel and walked toward the police station. The rain was slacking off and had become more of a mist. Erica hated such rain, it tended to turn her reddish-blonde hair frizzy.
She spotted the person she’d been coming to see leaving the station and walking down the steps that led to the street. As Erica approached the station, she called out to her.
“Deputy Perkins!”
Perkins turned to look at her, then smiled. “Hello, Agent Novac, may I help you with something?”
“Call me Erica, and yes, I’d like to sit down and have a chat with you about Jude Rowland.”
“The chief can tell you anything you might want to know. He’s in his office.”
“I doubt the chief knows Rowland the way you do… or am I wrong about that?”
Perkins looked over Erica’s shoulder to eye the steps of the police station. There was no one there, but she appeared nervous.
“I was on my way home, but I can give you a few minutes over a cup of coffee,” Perkins said.
Erica smiled. “That would be great.”
* * *
The two women walked around to the side of the police station where there was a fenced-in parking area. An old patrol car was up on blocks. It looked archaic with its chrome bumpers and whip antenna. There was also a panel van with the words, EMERGENCY SERVICES written on the side. The vehicle appeared dusty and seldom used. Perkins input a four-digit code into a keypad and the gate slid open.
“My car is right over there, the blue Honda, and the coffee shop is nearby.”
As they strolled along, Erica spotted the front of a white van poking out from behind a corner of the building. When she asked Perkins about it, she was told it belonged to Chief Connors’ son. Zach Connors, a long-haul trucker. The younger Connors used the van whenever he was in town to visit.
Perkins unlocked her doors and Erica climbed inside the car, which was a new Honda. The engine started and 90’s rock music filled the air, until Perkins shut off the radio.
“So, Deputy, how long have you been a cop?”
“Ten years, and please, call me Linda. How long have you been a Fed?”
“Nearly seven years.”
“Being a small-town cop is enough of a headache. I don’t think I would want your job.”
“How’s the chief treat you?”
“Like a second-class citizen. You might have noticed that he’s not happy about having women in law enforcement. I’m one of only two female deputies on a force of twenty-seven.”
“He’s been unfair to you and the other woman?”
“No, I wouldn’t say that, and he’s tough on everybody, it’s just that the chief is a little old-fashioned.”
The conversation paused as a horn honking on the street made them look in that direction. A car that had been waiting to back into a parking slot lost the space to a driver who had come along and pulled right into it. The loser honked his horn, displayed his middle finger, and sped off.
Perkins smiled at Erica. “That partner of yours is good-looking, anything going on between you two?”
“No, but you’re right, Brad’s handsome.”
“You must be great at your job if they have you working serial killer cases.”
“I’ve had success.”
“Anything I might have heard of?”
“My partner and I helped to capture Anthony Salvo last year.”
Perkins had been typing at the keypad to close the gate as they left. She stopped what she was doing to turn and stare at Erica.
“You caught the Butcher of Baton Rouge? That was a huge case.”
“It was, and it took months of work to stop him. In the meantime, he killed six more women. I don’t want Wildcard to have a chance to claim any more victims.”
“I can understand that, but I don’t think Joey, I mean, Jude, is your killer.”
“Why not?”
“It’s just an opinion,” Perkins said.
The short drive to the coffee shop ended and Perkins parked in front. When they were inside and seated with coffee, Erica fought the temptation to order a slice of chocolate cake. The diner had desserts on display in a glass case near the counter, looking at the cake had made Erica salivate.
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br /> She pushed the thought of chocolate from her mind and focused on Linda Perkins. Playing a hunch, Erica asked Perkins a question.
“How long did you and Jude Rowland date in high school?”
Perkins looked up from the cup she’d been stirring milk into.
“Who told you about that?”
“No one, it was just a guess.”
After sending Erica a look of annoyance, Perkins shrugged.
“It’s not a secret. We dated for a few weeks in junior year… it didn’t work out.”
“Tell me about it.”
“It’s a bit personal, Erica.”
“I’m investigating a string of murders. I need to know as much as I can about the suspects.”
“Suspects? There are other suspects?”
“There are over a dozen. However, only one other seems promising. We’ll be leaving here soon to interview him.”
Perkins smiled. “I knew Joey couldn’t be a killer, I don’t care what the chief says.”
“Why does he hate Jude Rowland so much?”
“It’s more like he hated his father. My mother told me that the chief was dating Joey’s mother when Chet Revene stole her away from him. Her name was Sarah; I think the chief really loved her.”
“That doesn’t seem like a reason to hate the son.”
Perkins leaned forward. “You didn’t hear this from me, but I think the chief is jealous.”
“Why is that?”
“My mom says that the chief always wanted to be a writer. He’s even written a couple of crime thrillers but could never find an agent.”
“He could publish them himself these days.”
“The chief did, and given the bad reviews, they’re not very good.”
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