by Karen Rose
Mrs Trask hurried down the steps, whisking past him to where her husband lay. ‘Ron.’ Too late she saw the gag. Then she saw the gun in Evan’s hand and grew deathly pale. ‘Please don’t hurt us. I’ll give you anything you want. Cash, credit cards . . . I have a few narcotics in my bag. You can take it all.’
‘That’s not what I want, but thank you for the offer,’ he said politely.
‘Then what do you want?’ she asked in a small voice.
‘I want what you stole from me.’ He shoved her face down on the bed, easily overpowering her. He taped her hands and feet together, then gagged her, all in plain view of her husband who had to lie there helplessly and watch. ‘I want my sister back. I want my parents back. I want the life that you ruined.’ He leaned forward, watched her eyes go wide with horror. ‘I want my mother’s necklace. But you can’t give me any of those things, can you? All you can give me now is my satisfaction.’
He also wanted his damn bracelet, but he knew exactly where to get that. ‘We need to pick up one more passenger. I need you to make a call for me, Sheriff.’ He loosened the gag from Ron’s mouth.
‘Go to hell,’ Ron spat.
‘You know, Malcolm Edwards didn’t want to do what I asked the first time either. So I cut off his wife’s finger, right in front of him. Then I slit her throat.’
A terrified mewling sound came from Mrs Trask’s throat and Ron was barely able to contain his fury. ‘You’re sick,’ Ron spat.
‘I’m sure many would say so. I really don’t care.’
‘She’s old and ill. She’s no threat to you. Let her go.’
His brows lifted. ‘Such tenderness. My mother was old and ill, too. I was with her when she died, and you know what the last things were that she asked for? Her mother’s necklace and her dead daughter. She didn’t get what she wanted and neither will you.’
Using Ron’s phone, he found the other number he desired. ‘Now you’re going to tell Sonny Westcott to get his ass up here. That those Baltimore detectives have come asking questions and the two of you need to talk. And you’re going to be convincing or your wife will start losing important body parts.’
‘We’ve seen your face. You can’t let us live. Why should I do what you say?’
‘I guess this is going to dictate how you die. Malcolm’s wife died relatively painlessly.’ He shrugged. ‘If you don’t count the finger. Last week I killed a PI who crossed me. Gutted her like a pig and she felt everything. So it’s up to you. I’ll have my revenge. Whether Mrs T here goes nicely or very painfully is entirely up to you.’
He put his knife to Mrs Trask’s throat. ‘I’m dialing now. Think carefully about what you say. I can have her gutted before you utter my sister’s name. I promise you she’ll feel every slice. Okay, here he is. Make it good, Sheriff.’
He put the phone far enough from Ron’s ear so that he could hear too. Ron sent him a glare full of hate. Right back atcha, boy.
‘Sheriff Westcott. Who is this?’
‘It’s Trask. I need to meet.’
‘Not a good idea.’
‘Don’t make me push you,’ Trask snapped. ‘Meet me at the Turlington place. Now. Or else I start saying things nobody’s gonna want to hear.’
‘Sonofabitch,’ Sonny hissed. ‘You and that daughter of yours can’t leave it be.’
Evan pressed the knife a little harder to the old lady’s throat and Trask’s jaw tightened. ‘Look,’ Trask said. ‘If you don’t come, I’ll tell the detectives what they want to know.’
There was a small pause. ‘Fine. I’ll be there.’
He closed the phone and nodded to Trask. ‘Very good.’
‘Now let her go,’ Trask said, somehow still holding onto his arrogance.
‘No.’ He took out their phone batteries, then leaned closer, so he could feel their terror. Smell it. ‘You ruined my life. Your son killed my sister.’
‘No. He didn’t,’ Trask said, desperately. ‘He didn’t touch her.’
‘And you’re a fool. You knew what your son did and you knew what he’d stolen from us. Knowing that, you actually stood in my father’s house and threatened him.’
Trask could say nothing. He lay there, a muscle twitching in his cheek. Mrs Trask had turned her head to stare at her husband.
She didn’t know. He’d assumed she had. ‘She didn’t know you went to my parents’ house and threatened to have him arrested because they wouldn’t “shut up about that damn necklace”. You ran us out of town. Made us move. We lost everything. I was there, hiding in my room, so scared of you. I’m not afraid of you now, old man.’
‘She didn’t know,’ Trask said. ‘Let her go.’
‘No. Even if she didn’t know that, she knew plenty.’ He sheathed his knife. ‘Even if she knew nothing, she lived a life my mother never got to have. When you ran us off, we lost our business, our house. We had nothing, no money. When my father killed himself, it got even worse. You destroyed my family. Now yours belongs to me.’
Tuesday, May 4, 4.40 P.M.
Higgins was waiting for them in the newspaper office. ‘I found the photos from the year Ileanna Bryan died,’ he said. ‘We’ve got home-coming, prom and graduation.’ He glanced at Lucy. ‘Plus some photos of Buck’s memorial service. I didn’t know if you’d want them or not.’
Lucy swallowed. ‘Thanks,’ she said and Fitzpatrick rested his hand on her back.
‘We’ll take everything you could find,’ he said. ‘Can we see Ileanna’s prom picture?’
Higgins took a folder from the top of the box. ‘This is their formal photo.’
The four of them crowded the counter to see. Lucy meant to go straight to Ileanna’s wrist, but was stopped by the handsome face of the brother she’d adored. That everyone had adored. In a few weeks he’d be dead, all their lives forever changed.
She forced her eyes to Ileanna, a pretty brunette with a smile just a shade naughty. Around her neck was a sparkling heart. But her wrist was bare. Lucy wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed. ‘It’s not there,’ she murmured.
‘No, it isn’t,’ Fitzpatrick murmured back and Higgins cleared his throat.
‘That,’ he said, ‘was the formal portrait.’ Lucy watched his gaze drop to her own wrist, now also bare. ‘My brother took some candid shots, too. Because Buck was Prom King, he and Ileanna are in a lot of the candids.’ He put them on the counter and spread them out.
And there it was. For a moment, Lucy couldn’t breathe. ‘Oh God.’
Buck and Ileanna were slow-dancing, her hand on his shoulder. From her wrist dangled a silver heart on a bracelet.
Fitzpatrick’s hand slid from her back to the curve of her waist. ‘Nobody ever asked about the bracelet? Ever?’ he asked.
‘Not to my knowledge.’ Higgins said. ‘It wasn’t in the police report.’
Fitzpatrick’s brows went up. ‘You have the police report?’
‘A copy’s in the box. My grandfather kept it after he wrote the articles about Ileanna.’
Lucy’s eyes were drawn back to the prom photos, while Fitzpatrick and Stevie viewed the old police report.
Berman pulled the photos closer. ‘Your brother seems . . . large.’
‘He was large,’ Lucy said. ‘He was six three before his fifteenth birthday.’
‘I mean his presence. He eats up the frame. He had “it”, whatever it was. Look at the expressions of the other boys. At least one of every two doesn’t like him. Look at the animosity in their faces and body language.’
Lucy frowned at him. ‘Everybody loved Buck.’
‘Everybody wanted to be Buck,’ he corrected. ‘Not the same thing. Look at this boy, his jaw. He’s tighter than a wound watch. And his fists are clenched. Eyebrows lowered, head slightly bent. If he were a mountain goat, head-butting would have commenced.’
Lucy gave a small smile as she suspected he’d intended. ‘That’s Russ Bennett.’
‘Ah. See? What about this guy?’ He pointed to an equally disgruntled-looking boy.
‘Malcolm Edwards,’ she said. ‘Where’s Ryan Agar?’
‘Not in this picture,’ Higgins said, looking until he found one. ‘That’s him.’
Agar appeared completely uncomfortable, standing alone by the wall.
‘He doesn’t look angry,’ Lucy said. ‘More like he wants to be anywhere else.’
‘His feet hurt,’ Berman said. ‘See how he holds his back? His shoes are probably too small. And he’s shy.’
She could see it when he described it for her. ‘Look at Buck in this picture. Ileanna is looking up at him like he hung the moon, but he’s not looking at her.’
‘Very good,’ Berman praised. ‘Who is he looking at?’
She traced his line of sight and a piece of puzzle settled. ‘He’s looking at Sara, the girl he’d just broken up with.’ Lucy tilted her head, looking at her brother with the eyes of an adult. ‘That’s an effyou look. He took Ileanna to get back at Sara. I wonder why.’ She looked at Higgins. ‘What happened to Sara Derringer?’
‘Her family moved after high school. She lives in DC and has six kids. I can give you her contact info.’ He started spinning his Rolodex before she could say a word. ‘Here’s her card.’
Lucy slipped it in her pocket. ‘Thank you.’
Fitzpatrick and Stevie looked up from their conversation. ‘Lucy,’ he said, ‘your mother was the first responder. Ileanna wasn’t dead when she got there. She died about fifteen minutes later, but she was conscious for the first few minutes.’
They’d had to learn her mother was the town doctor from Mrs Westcott. Why Lucy hadn’t just told them herself, she didn’t know. ‘She took calls all hours of the day and night back then. That she was the doctor at the scene makes sense. But Ileanna’s body would have been sent to the state morgue, even then. I’ll look it up. What about Ricky Joyner, the suicide?’
‘Him I don’t know about,’ Higgins said. ‘You might check with the state police.’
‘I’ll do that,’ Fitzpatrick said, taking the box of photos. He and Lucy thanked Higgins, then went out to the car. On their way out of town they drove past the marina, just to see if her father’s boat was back, but it wasn’t.
‘I know we need to talk to him for this case, but I’m relieved,’ Lucy said. ‘I’m filled up and washed out, all at once. I know that makes no sense.’
‘It makes a lot of sense. What I did wonder was how you knew he’d be there.’
‘I saw his truck parked in his driveway last night when we visited the Bennetts, then in front of the marina when we drove into town today. I knew before we got here that I’d have to see him, but I just couldn’t make myself do it right away.’
‘Having met him, I understand.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘I’ve got to call into Hyatt’s office for our status meeting now. Just relax for a while. You’ve had kind of a busy day.’
Tuesday, May 4, 5.05 P.M.
‘I’ve got a press conference in less than an hour,’ Hyatt said when JD and Stevie phoned into the status meeting from their cars. ‘Morton, Skinner and Miss Montgomery are here with me and Drew is on the line from his office. The press knows about Bennett, Gordon, and the valet. I’m expecting one of them will have figured out that the dumpster woman is connected. So please tell me this little “field trip” of yours gave me something I can use.’
‘It did,’ Stevie said and she and JD debriefed everything they’d found that day. ‘We’ve got motive. Ileanna Bryan was murdered and somehow this group of boys was involved.’
‘And Dr Trask’s brother is at the middle of it, thus putting the doctor in it too – by what, association?’ Hyatt asked, but for the first time he didn’t sound suspicious of Lucy.
‘And by the bracelet,’ JD said. ‘Whether Buck put it where she found it or not, we don’t know. If he took it off the dead girl or obtained it another way, we don’t know.’
‘And there’s the missing diamond,’ Stevie added. ‘The family moved away a few months after the murder, but nobody we talked to knows where they went. It’s like they disappeared.’
‘Nobody just disappears,’ Hyatt said. ‘Why now? It’s been twenty-one years.’
‘We don’t know yet,’ Stevie admitted.
‘So what do we know?’ Hyatt snapped.
‘That the current sheriff of Anderson Ferry is involved,’ JD said. ‘His name is Sonny Westcott. He definitely reacted when he saw the bracelet. But he’s avoiding us. We got the original police report and Dr Trask will search for the girl’s autopsy report.’
Lucy held up her phone. ‘I already requested Ileanna and Ricky Joyner’s autopsy reports.’
‘I heard her,’ Hyatt said. ‘Tell her thank you.’
‘I will,’ JD said. ‘Have we ID’d Jane Doe yet?’
‘Yes,’ Drew said. ‘Her prints were in the system. Her name is Sue Ellen Lamont. She was arrested three years ago, credit card scam.’
‘So far,’ Elizabeth Morton said, ‘nobody’s reported her missing. She’s got a closet full of condoms in her apartment. I think high-class call girl is a good guess. We can give her driver’s license photo to the news and see if anyone’s seen her around town.’
‘What kind of car does she drive?’ JD asked, thinking of the black Lexus.
‘Ford Focus,’ Elizabeth said. ‘And we haven’t found it yet. We’ve also been unable to track the black Lexus that took Ryan, if that’s what you were thinking, JD.’
‘I wish I hadn’t lost the guy tailing me earlier,’ JD said, annoyed with himself. ‘It was probably him and I let him get away.’
‘You didn’t know,’ Hyatt said grudgingly, surprising him. ‘Elizabeth, get the woman’s picture ready for me to give to the press at six. We’ll get some extra staff to man the phone lines. I’d rather announce it than make it look like we’re hiding something.’
‘What about the PI?’ Stevie asked. She’d already updated Hyatt with the news of Nicki Fields’s death. ‘Will you include her in the press conference?’
‘No, I won’t include the PI,’ Hyatt said. ‘Not yet. Laurel PD’s handed the investigation over to us. I debriefed the two detectives assigned the case. They’ve tried to track the PI’s movements, but hit a roadblock. Her cell was prepaid. There are no files anywhere in her apartment or office and somebody took her computer.’
‘Could have been our guy,’ Stevie said.
‘Or her own co-workers,’ Hyatt said. ‘The Laurel detectives said her partner who called 911 was very non-specific about everything. They also talked to the secretary who says she just answered phones and got coffee. Laurel PD thinks they’re both lying, but they don’t know why. Could be nerves or could be that they’re covering up. I’ll have Debbie send you their info, Stevie. Check them out. The partner is Clay Maynard and the secretary is Alyssa Moore.’
‘Will do.’
‘Skinner, what do we have on the big-ass flash freezer?’ Hyatt asked.
‘Nothing yet,’ Detective Skinner said. ‘I’ve got a list of places that have gone out of business in the last few years that might have one. I’ll start on those tomorrow.’
‘We’ve spent most of the day on the alibis for the club personnel,’ Elizabeth Morton said. ‘Unfortunately, only two people don’t have alibis for all the murders. Both are women, and Ryan Agar was definitely abducted by a man.’
‘Any progress on getting the club’s client list from Thorne?’ JD asked.
Lucy looked up, a frown on her face. JD shrugged.
‘I’ve got the warrant written,’ Daphne said. ‘Grayson is reviewing it. I do have news, though. I talked to Russ Bennett’s partner. I mentioned the American Medical Association might have some issues with that cheek implant switcheroo. You know, his implanting Bennett with that other guy’s cheeks. I told him a little cooperation with me certainly couldn’t hurt him if he gets investigated. He was . . . persuaded to give me Bennett’s financials for one patient – Janet Gordon.’
‘And?’ JD asked, wishing he could have witnessed Daphne’s
‘persuasion’.
‘Janet got two procedures from Bennett. A facelift and a breast augmentation. She was scheduled for a tummy tuck next month. She didn’t pay him a single dime.’
‘Bennett did Gordon’s surgery for free?’ JD asked, astonished.
‘That doesn’t sound like the Russ Bennett we’ve heard about,’ Stevie said. ‘Why?’
‘The super said Bennett didn’t like her, so it wasn’t altruism. Could have been blackmail,’ JD said. ‘I wonder what Janet knew?’
‘Same thing her son knows, I’m betting,’ Stevie said.
‘It’ll be “knew” if we don’t figure out who’s got him before he ends up slumped over a chess table,’ Hyatt said grouchily. ‘Drew?’
‘We processed prints on the cars parked around the Mercedes where Janet Gordon was found. The prints on Thorne’s vehicles belong to him, Dr Trask, and the dead valet. There are at least twenty individual prints on Gwyn Weaver’s car. Still processing. So far nothing’s popped. Her apartment was also clean.’
‘There’s a boyfriend,’ JD said. ‘He’s probably one set of prints. I’ll get his name.’
‘Royce Kendall,’ Lucy said and JD passed it on.
‘Get him in to give elimination prints,’ Hyatt said. ‘Fitzpatrick, keep digging. Find out what happened to the Bryan family. Especially the son. Stevie, you take the PI and the secretary. I want to know what they’re hiding. Elizabeth, you get the hooker. Find out where she’s been and her client list. Somewhere the hooker, the PI and Ileanna intersect. And Skinner, I want that freezer. Yesterday.’ He paused. ‘And I still want the warrant for Thorne’s client list.’
‘Why?’ Daphne drawled. ‘Because Thorne’s a prick or because you think one of his clients is guilty?’
‘Yes,’ Hyatt snapped. ‘Both. Just do it. Keep me updated day or night. I want updates from everyone by eleven p.m. and everyone back here at oh-eight tomorrow. Agar’s life depends on how fast we move.’
Lucy tapped JD’s sleeve. ‘Can you ask when I can go back into my apartment?’
He asked and there was murmuring. ‘Drew says she can go back tonight,’ Hyatt said. ‘The suitcase from last night’s scene is still being processed, as is her car.’