Killing Mind: An addictive and nail-biting crime thriller (Detective Kim Stone Crime Thriller Book 12)

by Angela Marsons

  Kim marvelled at how parenting had changed in the years since.

  She knocked on the door of the last known address for Tyler Short already forming her bad news face. Luckily the expression wasn’t too distant a cousin from the look that shaped her features naturally.

  She was surprised when the door was answered by a woman in her mid-twenties with a baby suckling at her breast. Did the lad already have a young family?

  Bryant glanced away as the woman hitched the baby back into position. Kim got the impression she didn’t care one bit. She liked that. Baby needed fed, baby got fed.

  ‘Mrs… Miss… Err… Ms Short?’ Kim asked.

  She shook her head. ‘None of the above.’

  Kim checked the number on the plaque to the side of the door. Yep, definitely the address on the driver’s licence.

  ‘Are you any relation to Tyler Short?’ Kim asked.

  She shook her head and winced as the baby obviously got rough.

  ‘Sorry, little bugger’s got hard gums.’

  ‘We have this as the last address for a twenty-year-old male who…’

  ‘Hang on. There was a kid that lived here before us with his nan. She died, which of course we weren’t told before we took the place, but I don’t know what their names were. We’ve been here about two and a half years but it was empty for a while before that.’

  ‘So, you’d have no idea where he would have gone after that?’

  ‘None, sorry. I assume the council kicked him out when his nan died cos she was the tenant not him.’

  ‘Okay, thanks,’ Kim said, walking away.

  She took out her phone right at the second it started to ring.

  ‘Stace, tell me you’ve found…’

  ‘Can’t find any evidence of any friendship between our victims,’ Stacey said, getting straight into it. ‘But Tyler was at Dudley College too. Dropped out almost three years ago.’

  ‘Around the time his nan died,’ Kim observed.

  ‘Apparently, cos his last post on social media was a poem to his grandmother.’

  ‘His last?’

  ‘Yep,’ Stacey said. ‘Just like Samantha his presence on social media came to an abrupt end on the last day he attended college.’

  Two victims, both at the same college, Kim thought.

  ‘Thanks, Stace, could be a coincidence but see if you can find any other missing persons linked to the college, maybe talk to a couple of tutors and…’

  ‘Hang on, I’m not done yet, boss. Talking of social media I’m not too sure about what Myles Brown told you about Sophie.’

  ‘That the sisters weren’t close or that she’s in Thailand?’ Kim asked.

  ‘Both, either,’ Stacey answered. ‘Sophie isn’t a massive sharer but there are definitely old photos of the two sisters together having fun, but nothing that would indicate she’s travelling abroad.’

  ‘Okay, Stace, thanks,’ Kim said, ending the call.

  ‘That’s a bit weird,’ Bryant said, hearing most of what Stacey had said.

  Kim sat in the car for a moment, chewing over the facts.

  In two days they’d had two victims under the age of twenty-two. One male, one female. Both had had their throats cut. Both had been students at Dudley College. Both had suddenly stopped using social media three years ago. And both had been emotionally vulnerable.

  Stacey’s findings about Samantha and Sophie confirmed to her that Samantha’s parents were holding something back, which was bad enough if they were trying to protect something that only affected their daughter, but now she had a second victim whose murder commanded the same level of attention.

  Kim decided that the Browns had guarded their secret for long enough.

  Twenty-Five

  Penn had chosen not to mention to the boss how much he enjoyed a good post-mortem for fear of appearing a bit weird, he thought, as he headed through Russells Hall Hospital.

  It wasn’t that he felt nothing for the person being dissected. It was quite the opposite. He was a firm believer in respect of any living thing. If you killed a chicken to eat, then give it the honour of using every last ounce of it. Don’t just eat a breast or a drumstick; use it all and then boil the bones for a broth. The animal had died for it.

  It was the same for the poor soul on the slab. If their bodies were going to be violated for clues then do it good; look everywhere, search every nook and cranny then find the bastard responsible.

  The body had so much to reveal after death, he marvelled, entering the morgue bang on time.

  ‘Good afternoon, Penn. Your boss still out in the field breaking everyone’s b—’

  ‘Yep, as well as trying to find the murderer of Samantha Brown,’ he responded. If his boss was not so keen on breaking balls, the girl’s death would still be a suicide.

  ‘Yes, quite. Your garments are over there.’

  Penn climbed into the folded paper suit and then placed the mask over his face. ‘And the hat,’ Keats said. ‘With you, especially the hat.’

  By this time of day, the grip of the holding gel was no longer as firm and curls were starting to fall onto his forehead. He forced them under the blue hairnet.

  Satisfied, Keats turned on the tape recorder.

  ‘Commencing the post-mortem examination of Tyler Short, male Caucasian, aged twenty…’

  Penn stood away as Keats continued verbally recording the initial weights and measurements before reaching for the scalpel.

  He paused the tape as he held the blade above the waxy, bloated flesh.

  ‘You ready for this?’

  Penn rubbed his hands. ‘Oh yeah, let’s get this party started.’

  Twenty-Six

  There were some cases that Kim felt could be solved if she simply set up camp and waited long enough at one location. That’s how she was beginning to feel about the home of Myles and Kate Brown.

  She was surprised to see Kate Brown answer the door instead of her husband.

  ‘Have you caught them?’ she asked, wringing her hands.

  Kim shook her head as she stepped inside. She was unsure what the woman expected in the few hours since they’d last been here.

  ‘I’m afraid not, Mrs Brown. We’re here for more information from you and your husband.’

  Kate headed for the room they’d already graced on their two previous visits.

  ‘Myles is trying to work,’ she said, opening the door.

  Kim immediately noticed that the computer behind which he sat wasn’t even switched on. There was no attempt at work going on here.

  As he turned in the captain’s chair Kim could see his eyes were red-rimmed and a handkerchief corner peeped out of his trouser pocket. Kim felt a rush of sympathy. There was no doubt that this couple was grieving and that she was trampling on their grief every time she knocked on the door. It was also clear that they were hiding something. She had no choice but to put her sympathy aside.

  ‘Mr Brown, we…’

  ‘I’ll go and make tea,’ Kate said, heading towards the door.

  ‘Mrs Brown, I’d rather you stay…’

  ‘And I’d rather go and make tea,’ she said shortly.

  ‘I’ll help,’ Bryant said, seizing the opportunity to get her alone.

  For a second she saw fear in the eyes of Myles Brown but he quickly realised there was little he could do. To forbid a police officer from helping his wife make a hot drink would require some kind of explanation.

  ‘Mr Brown,’ Kim said, taking a seat. ‘I’m afraid to say that I don’t think you and your wife are being completely honest with us.’

  His face hardened as he opened his mouth to speak.

  Kim held up her hand to quiet him. ‘Before you speak you should know that any omissions up to this point I will attribute to the shock and grief of losing your daughter, but if you withhold information beyond this conversation I will assume that you are obstructing a murder investigation and will act accordingly. Do we understand each other?’

  He hesita
ted before nodding.

  ‘Does the name Tyler Short mean anything to you?’

  He considered for a moment before shaking his head. ‘Should it?’ he asked.

  Kim left the question hanging in the air. If he didn’t know the boy she would not go into detail.

  ‘But you do know a girl named Carrie?’

  He nodded without hesitation. ‘She was one of Sammy’s best friends.’

  ‘A while back, though, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, they were friends in college.’

  ‘Before Sammy ran away?’

  He had the grace not to nod in agreement as they both knew that story was a lie.

  ‘Mr Brown, we know that Sammy had a bad break-up with a boyfriend that hit her hard. We know that it caused her to withdraw from her normal social circle and from social media, but she didn’t run away. So, tell me, Mr Brown, where was your daughter for the last two years?’

  His body visibly deflated before her eyes as though the truth was trying to find a way out of him.

  He took a deep breath. ‘Sammy joined a cult.’

  ‘A what?’ Kim asked, sitting forward. She could be no more surprised if he’d said she’d joined a travelling circus.

  ‘A cult,’ he repeated, and seeing the expression on her face he continued. ‘And that’s why we kept it secret. You don’t believe me, do you? You think cults only exist in other countries. You think they all look like Charles Manson or David Koresh?’

  Strangely enough both the insane murderer and the leader of the Branch Davidians in Waco had been two of the first faces that had popped into her head.

  ‘Not all cults are based on religion and not all are in the public eye or in any of the research books but it makes them no less real or dangerous.’

  Kim shook her head in disbelief. There were no cults in the area.

  ‘I can see you don’t believe me but you wanted the truth and here it is. Sammy was caught by a recruiter when she was at her most vulnerable. After Callum called it off once and for all she was courted and flattered and we saw her less and less. The more we tried to hold onto, her the harder she pulled away, until she stopped coming home completely. No conversation, no explanation, she just faded away.’

  ‘To where?’ Kim asked, trying to keep the doubt out of her voice.

  ‘Unity Farm in Wolverley. That’s what the place is called but it’s not really a farm. It’s a commune for people who want to step out of real life. Over time they’re brainwashed until they can no longer think for themselves and everything they do is for the good of the group.’

  Kim frowned. ‘But she was out of it. Did she come back?’

  ‘Y… yes, she ran away. We didn’t ask her too many questions because we were just pleased to have her back.’

  Kim was trying to get that information to gel in her mind as Bryant re-entered the room with a tea tray. Mrs Brown did not follow him in.

  There was something in Mr Brown’s explanation that was not making sense to her. If Sammy had joined some kind of group and had been influenced enough to leave her family, what would have prompted her to suddenly leave.

  ‘Surely Samantha must have offered some kind of explanation when she returned,’ Kim said as her phone vibrated an incoming call in her pocket. She ignored it.

  ‘She just said the group wasn’t what they had pretended to be,’ he answered.

  ‘Was she any more forthcoming with her sister?’ Kim asked.

  He coloured and shook his head. ‘I’ve told you they weren’t close. Sophie can’t tell you anything about her sister.’

  Kim knew that the man was lying to prevent her talking to the girl. But why, what exactly did Sophie have to hide? Kim wondered as her phone pinged a text message.

  ‘I’m sorry, excuse me,’ she said, taking out her phone. Someone wanted her attention badly.

  The text was from Mitch and said simply

  Need you back at the lake. NOW

  She held the curse on the other side of her lips. She really needed to pump Myles Brown for more information, but Mitch was the lead techie at a crime scene.

  She stood up, and saw the relief instantly rest on his features.

  ‘I’m sorry we have to go but we will need to speak to you further.’

  He nodded his understanding and walked them to the door.

  ‘Oh, Mr Brown,’ she said, stepping outside, ‘was Sammy a vegan?’

  He shook his head. ‘She wasn’t a massive meat eater but she couldn’t have survived without a bacon sandwich now and again.’

  ‘Was she on any kind of health kick?’ she tried again. Maybe she was detoxing.

  He shook his head impatiently as though this level of triviality was beneath his time. She thanked him and allowed him to close the door.

  ‘Get anything from the wife?’ she asked Bryant, as they headed towards the car.

  ‘Not a bean. Wouldn’t answer a thing. Made the tea in silence and then headed upstairs to prepare the bedroom for Sophie, who is due back any time soon.’

  Kim seriously hoped so. She wanted to speak to this girl now more than ever.

  As he left the driveway at speed Bryant almost collided with a vehicle turning in; a white Range Rover being driven by a burly man who appeared to be dressed all in black.

  Kim recalled the description Penn had been given by Samantha’s neighbour but had no chance to get the registration number before it disappeared around the bend.

  Damn it, she couldn’t hang about. She was needed back at the crime scene.

  She let out a long breath trying to expel some of the tension in her body.

  She had the feeling that Myles Brown had been telling the truth but not the whole truth. The man was still hiding something.

  Twenty-Seven

  Myles closed the front door on the police officers and stood in the middle of the hallway. He considered heading straight back to his study and closing the door on the wall of animosity that was building between himself and his wife. Ever since they’d returned from the morgue Kate had been unable to tolerate being in the same room with him for more than a couple of minutes.

  He began to climb the stairs, recalling the quiet sobs that had escaped from the lips of his wife throughout the night as she’d tossed and turned beside him. His efforts to offer comfort had been rebuffed as she had moved closer to the edge of the bed.

  His own tears threatened to break free every waking moment for the loss of his daughter and only the need to be strong for the rest of his family kept them at bay.

  He stood for a moment in the doorway to Sophie’s room watching his wife shake the quilt into the quilt cover decorated with a New York skyline print: Sophie’s favourite.

  Sensing his presence she stiffened but didn’t turn.

  ‘Did you tell her the truth?’ Kate asked, forcing a plump pillow into a fresh, crisp pillow case.

  ‘No,’ he answered, leaning against the door frame.

  She paused, mid-plump. ‘I think you’re making a mistake.’

  ‘We can’t risk it, sweetheart. It’s too dangerous. We don’t know what could happen if we involve the police now.’

  Finally, she turned to look at him. ‘I think we can trust her. She seems to know what she’s doing.’

  Myles hesitated, torn between wanting to bridge the gap between them and the gut instinct that told him he was doing the right thing.

  ‘We can’t trust that she’d understand how these things need to be handled.’

  ‘And we’ve done a fantastic job so far, haven’t we?’ she accused, her eyes blazing.

  He swallowed the emotion back down. He knew what this was costing his marriage, but the silence and distance lengthened between them because he couldn’t tell her what she wanted to hear.

  ‘You know, Myles, mistakes have been made and contrary to your belief I don’t blame you for all of them.’

  This admission tore at his heart. He stepped towards her, aching to take her into his arms.

  She moved to the
side, deftly avoiding his touch.

  Her eyes were now cold and empty.

  ‘But this mistake is completely yours and if it all goes wrong be sure you’ll be facing it alone.’

  Twenty-Eight

  Stacey ended her call to Dudley College with no more information than she’d had before. It had taken Sammy’s psychology professor a good few minutes to remember her former student, and even then had given her stock responses as though she was writing an end of year school report. She hadn’t even noticed the change in the girl after her break-up with Callum. Tyler’s mechanical engineering tutor had barely recalled him at all, leaving her hanging for ten minutes while he searched his records rather than his memory for the name.

  Stacey reminded herself that these people saw thousands of students every year and couldn’t be expected to remember everything about every one of them, but still there was a sense that they would be more noticeable for their deaths than their lives. Their names would now travel the halls of the facility on the lips of people who hadn’t even known them.

  Her search of missing persons had turned up two mentions of Dudley College but both teenage boys had returned home safe and sound and neither case had been reported in the years since Sammy and Tyler had been there. So far she had found no link to the college other than they had both attended at the same time.

  She sighed heavily and fought the urge to nip down to the canteen for a double chocolate muffin.

  Rosie often put one aside for her at the beginning of the day, so sure was she that Stacey would find her way down at some stage for her favourite treat. She’d resisted for two days now but it felt much longer.

  By her reckoning she had twelve weeks to lose the stone in weight that she’d like to shed before the wedding. Given that it had taken almost a month to lose two pounds the odds were not on her side.

  She’d never been a dieter and had always felt that all was well in moderation. If she had a few days where she felt she’d eaten plenty, she’d spend a couple of days just cutting back, which worked well for the odd pound or two that crept on while watching a bit of late-night TV with a chocolate bar, or two. But for shifting a chunk of weight she’d had to resort to more desperate measures.