by Ana Leigh
Her irritation at being awakened at two in the morning quickly changed to concern when she recognized him. "Did something happen to Jess?"
"No, that's not why I'm here. May I come in?"
"Is this an official visit, Detective?" she asked, stepping aside for him to enter.
"I need an immediate answer, and I know I won't get it from Jess."
"Then you're wasting your time, Doug. Jess is my best friend. I'm not about to tell you anything she doesn't want you to know."
Doug reached into his coat pocket. "It has nothing to do with the personal relationship between Jess and me. I'm hoping you might know where she got these earrings. They look expensive."
Liz examined them. "They are expensive. I've seen them on her many times, but I have no idea where or when she got them."
"You think your houseguest might know?"
Her eyes rounded in surprise. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Let me see them," Ben Kirkland said, entering the room. When Doug didn't even raise a brow, Ben laughed. "You aren't surprised, Doug."
"No, I figured it out a couple weeks ago."
"What gave us away?" he asked.
"I'll be straight with you. You two are the only possible suspects we've been able to come up with on these murders."
"You suspect us?" Liz groped for a chair and sank down in it.
"Good Lord, Doug! I've never even met any one of those victims," Ben said.
"And neither have I," Liz interjected. "I've only heard of Gilbert and Bellemy because they were two of Jess's cases. This Sands fellow I'd never heard of before until I read about him in the paper. Why in the world would you suspect us?"
"I won't go into the reasons why you're considered suspects at this time."
Ben Kirkland seemed more amused than shocked. "What does that have to do with figuring out Liz and I have a relationship?"
"As suspects, we've done some checking up on you and discovered both of your absences were unaccountable on the day Liz was a no-show at the courthouse. Which happened to have been the same morning we found Bellemy's body. So we checked back further. You'd be amazed what turns up when you start checking credit cards, gasoline charges and telephone calls. The two of you left a paper trail as wide as the Mississippi."
"I suppose I should be indignant for such an invasion of my privacy, but frankly, Doug, I've always been impressed with your detective skills."
"It wasn't difficult to put the pieces together. I should advise you that although they explain your whereabouts, they don't rule out the possibility of the two of you being conspirators in these murders. Especially the way you've been pussyfooting around."
"As much as I admire your tenacity, Detective, the only crime Liz and I have committed is deceiving my daughter."
"Which is a part of the puzzle that doesn't fit. Why the deceit? Jess is a big girl."
"It was my idea, Doug," Liz said. "Jess had just broken up with Dennis Wolcott. Ben and I got together to discuss her situation and found ourselves attracted to each other. We didn't want to say anything to her then, and the longer we put off telling her, the harder it became."
He never understood why people made things difficult for themselves by avoiding simple explanations. "Well, that's your business. Mine are homicides. What about these earrings?" He handed them to Kirkland.
"Yes, I recognize them. I had identical pairs made for Jess and Karen as birthday gifts. They both were born in June, and pearls are their birthstones. It had to have been—"
"At least eighteen years ago," Doug said.
Ben looked at him, surprised. "Yes, before Karen was … before she died. What do these have to do with the murder cases you're working on?"
"I can't tell you that, sir. It's just a hunch at this time." So Kirkland hadn't gotten over Karen's death, either. What is it about people that they continue to carry baggage around that fouled up their lives? Lord knows he was a shining example.
"Do you think the same man who murdered these men was involved in Karen's death as well?" Ben asked.
"No, I don't." Doug walked to the door. "Sorry to have bothered you so late. I'll get in touch with you if my hunch pans out."
Doug drove straight to the precinct. It was a quiet night, and the shift on duty welcomed his requests. One of the detectives got on the wire to check out unsolved murders similar to that of Karen Kirkland's: Caucasian, blond, campus student. Although not all cities report this information to the FBI, their database came up with eight identical cases: Berkeley, California; Gainesville, Florida; Carbondale, Illinois; Duluth, Minnesota; two in New York at Buffalo and Albany; the University of Wisconsin-Madison, which was Karen Kirkland's; and the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, the case that had involved Mark Sanderson.
They, in turn, transmitted copies of the earrings found in Sands's locker to the FBI and the police in those targeted cities for the possibility of recognition among the families and friends of the decedents.
Doug then put in a call to Vic, and as soon as his partner showed up they headed for the Property and Evidence Bureau warehouse where the file cabinets removed from Sands's locker had been stored.
With cities and dates to go on, they had a starting point. Marcus Sands's meticulousness and color-coding made it easier. His records did not go as far back as the New York slayings, but since Sands's roots had been in New York, Doug called Phil Evans at the precinct and asked him to check to see if Sands might have been a student at those colleges at that time. He also told him to check out the other colleges for the same thing.
It was a tedious job reading every paid receipt or bus ticket Sands had saved. By four o'clock they had established that Sands had been enrolled in state universities in Madison, Duluth and Carbondale at the time of the murders, but found nothing in his files that could link him to Berkley or Gainsville.
When they returned to the squad room they were met with interesting news. Evans had found out that Sands had been a student at the Albany and Buffalo universities at the time of the respective murders.
"Well that explains what Sands did during the day – he enrolled at colleges to stake out his victims."
The local detective bureau in Duluth had immediately gone to work on Evan's request, and interviewed a woman who had shared a dorm room with that decedent. She recognized one of the earrings as belonging to the victim, because she had often borrowed them from her.
Vic gave Doug a high five. "Good detective work, partner. Thanks to your lead, Sands is definitely tied to the Duluth, Madison and Milwaukee murders, and he can be placed in Albany, Buffalo and Carbondale at the time of those murders. With a little more police work, I bet you the local departments will turn up an identification of the other two earrings. You've uncovered a serial killer, Doug. The department should give you a medal."
"A dead serial killer, Vic," Doug said. "We still have to find the live one we have on our hands."
Reality had crashed back down on him again. Jess.
He hoped Ben Kirkland and Liz Alexander weren't involved in the murders. He liked them both, and he knew what they meant to Jess. His gut feeling was that they weren't. But as Vic said, he couldn't let his emotions cloud his judgment.
He dialed Jess's number again and left another message. Then on a hunch, he dialed the security desk.
"Charlie, McGuire. Did you see the judge leave?"
"Yep, earlier this morning with suitcase in hand."
"Did she tell you where she was going?"
"Nope. Most of the people usually don't, unless they want me to take in their mail or water their plants. I figure she was going off with you. You know, a little lovers' tryst for the weekend."
"Nobody can pull anything over on you, can they pal?" Doug hung up.
* * *
I listened to his message, Jessica. McGuire sounds pretty desperate. I wish you wouldn't go away like this, Jess. I'm very lonely when you go away. At least you're not with him. If that McGuire has upset you again, he's go
ing to have to pay for it. I won't tolerate him making you unhappy. Detective McGuire is living on borrowed time right now.
* * *
Doug left the precinct, drove home, shucked the suit and tie for jeans and a T-shirt and then tried Jess's cell phone. He slammed the phone down and tried the courthouse but got Liz Alexander's answering machine, so he dug through his files and came up with her home phone. Same result. Next he dialed Ben Kirkland's number. When he struck out there he left his apartment and drove to the Water Street Bistro.
Ben and Liz must have decided to come out of the closet about their relationship, because they were having dinner together and smiling at each other like two people in love. At least some relationships were going smoothly.
"Well, good evening, Detective, would you like to join us for dinner?" Ben asked cordially when Doug approached their table. "Or did you come here to make an arrest?"
Doug wasn't amused. "Where's Jess?"
He shrugged, "I really can't say." It was clear the news that she was gone didn't come as a surprise to him.
"Can't or won't, Kirkland?" He turned to Liz. "Is that your story, too, Ms. Alexander?"
"She didn't tell me where she was going," Liz said.
"And you didn't ask, of course. You're her secretary. Do you expect me to believe she went away without telling you where she was going?"
"It's the truth, Doug. I'm as upset about it as you are. Jess left me a note that she'd cleared her docket and would be back Sunday." Liz dug in her purse and handed him the note Jess had written. "I thought she'd probably gone away with you."
"At least sit down, Doug, and have a drink or are you still on duty?"
He sat down, and a waiter immediately appeared with a glass and a menu. Doug waved aside the menu as Ben filled the glass. After taking a drink of it, he was no wine connoisseur but had to admit that something could be said for the taste of hundred-dollar bottles of wine.
"What's going on between you and Jess?" Ben asked. "The last time I saw the two of you together, you looked pretty cozy."
"You missed the last time Jess and I were together, Kirkland. It was anything but cozy."
"So you had a lovers' quarrel."
"Jess never wants to see me again." Ben and Liz exchanged surprised glances. "She didn't take the news too well when she found out the three of you were our leading suspects on these murder cases."
Ben's gaze sharpened. "Are you saying you suspect her, too? Dammit, Detective, that's carrying suspicion too far."
"Now I understand why she doesn't want to see you again," Liz said. "I'd feel the same way in her place."
"Ms. Alexander, you are in her place. As I told you before, you are a suspect, too."
Irritated, Liz spoke up, "And as a woman, McGuire, it would be too shattering to hear from the man I loved that he suspected I was a murderer, much less a serial killer on top of it."
"I don't give a rat's behind what you two think of me personally. For the record, I never considered Jess a suspect. But that's my personal opinion. Others will until I can prove to them otherwise." He shoved back his chair to leave.
"Doug," Ben said, "the only place I can think where she might have gone is up to Rhinelander. We have a cottage up there."
Doug pulled out his notebook. "Write down the address and directions."
"Wouldn't you be better off letting her cool off?" Ben suggested. "Jess has a level head, Doug. Once she has a chance to—"
"The address, Kirkland," Doug said. Ben sighed and wrote down the directions. "Off the record, Ben, I have some information that is of concern to you. Since you are one of our suspects, you may have known this long before I did."
Ben looked quizzical; Liz appeared engrossed in what he was saying. "You understand, this is off the record and not to be repeated beyond this table until it becomes official."
"For heaven's sake, man, what is it?" Ben asked.
"We have a positive identification on the man who murdered your daughter."
"Oh, dear God," Ben murmured. Tears moistened his eyes.
Liz Alexander reached over and clutched his hand. "Oh, Ben."
"Who is it?" Ben asked, swiping the moisture out of his eyes.
"Who was it," Doug said. "Marcus Sands."
Ben frowned. "Wasn't he the dead man pulled out of the lake?"
Doug nodded. "In going through the locker he rented, we discovered an earring identical to the pair Jess has. It seems Mr. Sands was a trophy killer."
"Trophy killer?" Liz asked.
"Collects an item belonging to his victims," Doug explained. "So we checked him further and came up with a lot more evidence that links him to other murders."
"I don't know what to say," Ben said. "All these years, knowing Karen's killer was still out there unpunished has been eating Jess and I alive. The heartache of it killed my wife."
"I know Jess would like to know this, that's why I have to talk to her."
"I suppose you've tried her cell phone," Ben said.
"She's not answering it."
"Well, if you get going now, it's a little over a four hour drive. You can still reach there before it turns dark."
Doug stood up. "I'm not afraid of the dark, sir."
* * *
Chapter 19
«^»
Jess sat on the front stoop, her head bowed, her shoulders slumped in despair. The heartache of her misery was so acute it felt like a vise squeezing the breath out of her. The pain in her chest burned like a fire, searing her very soul. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the railing post.
She felt so betrayed. She loved him so much – and he'd betrayed her. If he'd become bored with her, or even preferred another woman, she might have understood it. But his deceit was such a cruel violation of trust. Had she been so blinded by passion that it clouded her thinking? She'd always heard that no one knows a man better than the woman who shares his bed. How could she have misjudged him so terribly? She sighed and drew a deep breath. It even hurt to breathe.
Jess stood up. She had to stop rehashing these same questions again and again. It was over between her and Doug. She'd have to accept it and get on with her life.
Jess drew another deep breath. Pretty soon it wouldn't hurt. Pretty soon the hurt would go away. You'll get through this, Jessica. Just don't make the mistake of wallowing in self-pity. You went into it with your eyes wide-open – trouble was, your heart was wide-open, too. If only you could hate him. That would make it easier. So much easier.
* * *
Ben Kirkland had not exaggerated the remoteness of the cottage. Dusk had descended by the time Doug turned onto the dirt road Ben had indicated on the map he'd drawn. Cut through a thick forest of pine and birch trees, the narrow road was barely wide enough for the width of a car. After a quarter of a mile of cursing the bumps and ruts he came to an abrupt halt at a cottage. The last rays of the setting sun glistened on the waters of a small lake that lay beyond it.
Doug was relieved to see Jess's Park Avenue parked near the entrance. He pulled in beside it, and then removed his gun and shoved it and his cell phone into the glove compartment. As he walked to the door, he could feel his heartbeat quicken in anticipation of seeing her. He'd always felt it from the time they started going together and knew it took about thirty seconds for his hormones to stop hopping around. Then she'd smile at him and they'd kick into overdrive again.
The front door was open, but there was no light in the house, so he knocked on the screen door. Unlatched, it bounced each time he rapped.
"Jess," he called out, but sensed a stillness and knew the house was empty.
He opened the screen door and stepped inside. After a quick check, he went out the back door to find her. There was no sign of her outside or on the pier. A small boat was still tied to it, so he knew she wasn't on the lake, either.
"Jess," he called out again, and was answered with the cry of a loon.
The shed was padlocked. Which was the only thing he'd found locked u
p till then, because her car was unlocked when he'd checked that out.
Doug went back into the house. Jess's purse lay on the kitchen counter and her car keys tossed beside it. He checked out the purse and her wallet was untouched. There clearly was no sign of robbery or foul play, but the detective in him didn't like it. She was too damn trusting. How could she wander away and leave the house wide-open, and car keys and money as an invitation to anyone wandering by.
He sat down to wait. The longer he waited, the angrier he grew for her being so careless. And the angrier he grew, the more worried he became. What if she'd had an accident, or been attacked by some wild animal? And God knows who might be lurking in those woods.
He bolted to his feet just as the back door slammed.
Jess came into the room and gasped in alarm. When she recognized him, alarm changed to contempt.
"Get out of here, Doug. I made it clear to you that I never want to see or hear from you again. If you continue to follow me and break into my residences, I shall have you arrested for stalking."
"I don't have to break into your residences. Any fool and his brother can walk through the open door."
"I didn't realize you had a brother."
"What have I told you about not locking your doors?" he demanded. "For a person who is a felony judge, and has to deal with scum daily, you walk around like Pollyanna acting as if there's no evil in the world, even though you're torn apart by the heinous murder of your sister. If I live to be a hundred, lady, I'll never understand you."
"I'm not asking you to."
"Furthermore," he continued to rant, "what are you doing walking around in the woods without anything to protect you? You could have encountered a wild animal."
"The only wild animal I've encountered since I've been here is you, McGuire." She was so angry she felt wilder than any animal she might have encountered.
"I bet you don't even own a weapon, and if you did, it would be as worthless to you as door keys, door chains or car keys."
"Or as worthless as you, McGuire. If you don't get out of here, I will." She stormed out the back door and ran to the pier.