Heinous (Faces of Evil)

by Debra Webb

  She shook her head. “After they dismissed me when I made that other report I didn’t see the point in bothering.”

  Wanda claimed Jess’s mother warned her that if anything happened to them to have the police look into it. Wanda had filed the report, that much was true.

  “Was there a music box or any other box that required a key for opening?” Jess asked, moving on.

  Wanda’s face lit up as if she’d remembered something important. “Helen did have a music box. She played it all the time for you girls.” Wanda started to hum that haunting tune that wouldn’t stay out of Jess’s head.

  “What happened to the music box?”

  Wanda frowned. “It wasn’t in the house. Either your mother did something with it or it was stolen. I never saw it after she died.”

  If the key wasn’t to the music box, then to what? And how did Spears or the reverend end up with it?

  The sound of her cell phone prevented Jess from asking her next question. Lori calling. “Excuse me a moment.”

  As she moved toward the kitchen, Jess appreciated the deep sound of Harper’s voice as he chatted with Wanda to distract her.

  “Is McPherson talking?” Jess certainly hoped so. At this point, he was the last known link to the Brownfields and all those murders. The families whose loved ones were buried on that farm deserved closure.

  “He’s dead,” Lori said. “Same MO as the others, lips sutured closed. Sheriff Foster’s on his way over here.”

  Damn. Jess shook her head. “All right. Have Foster call his coroner. We’ll need him. I’m on my way.”

  Jess refused to allow the defeat nipping at her to take hold. Both McPherson and Amanda were dead. Now Spears could tell his version of the story. Creating his own account of the past was easy enough if he silenced everyone who knew the real story.

  The stage was set with no unnecessary characters to get in the way of the outcome he desired.

  Spears wanted it just between the two of them.

  Tupelo Pike, Scottsboro, 4:15 p.m.

  Official vehicles already lined the street outside McPherson’s home when Jess arrived.

  Harper parked his SUV. “Looks like the gang’s all here.”

  “Let’s hope McPherson gives us more dead than he did alive.” Jess removed her sunglasses and tucked them into her bag.

  “After working this area for over thirty years, the idea that he didn’t know anything about the Brownfields is a little hard to swallow.”

  “So true, Sergeant.” Jess emerged from the SUV and started for the house. She flashed her badge to the deputy protecting the perimeter.

  Lori met them at the steps to the house. “The vic hadn’t been dead more than half an hour when we arrived.”

  “Has anyone talked to the neighbors?”

  “Hayes is canvasing the neighbors now. I stayed with McPherson.”

  “Is the coroner here?” Loren Adams, as Jess recalled.

  “He’s in the house.”

  “Good.” Jess hesitated again. “What about Roger?”

  Lori inclined her head toward the house. “He’s in the backyard. Foster called a friend who takes in homeless animals. He’s coming to pick him up.”

  Jess was glad the dog hadn’t ended up a victim as well. “I’d say it’s safe to speculate that the killer didn’t venture into the backyard.”

  “I know I wouldn’t have. How do you think that happened?” Lori asked. “The dog outside, I mean.”

  At the door, they donned protective shoe covers and gloves. “McPherson must have suspected trouble and put the dog out back to protect him.”

  “Doesn’t that defeat the purpose?” Harper shrugged. “What’s the point of a guard dog if he can’t protect you?”

  Lori rolled her eyes. “Can you tell he didn’t have a dog growing up?”

  “Who said I didn’t have a dog growing up?” Harper contended as they joined the ongoing activities inside. Two of Foster’s deputies waited on either side of the door inside the house. Both gave Jess a nod of acknowledgement.

  McPherson sat in a recliner, a Beretta nine millimeter in one hand. Glued there, if the MO from the previous scenes carried through. Harper checked the weapon as best he could with it clutched in the victim’s hand.

  “Has his weapon been fired?” To Jess’s way of thinking, an experienced lawman like McPherson would use his weapon to protect himself.

  Harper shook his head. “Fully loaded with a round in the chamber.”

  Didn’t make sense to Jess.

  “I’m thinking he was drugged,” Lori said. “Foster checked with the Liberty, a restaurant McPherson frequented, and he was there for lunch. He left the Liberty about one and we found him here at one forty-five. Foster is interviewing the restaurant employees. There was an open bottle of Mountain Dew in his truck. We’re sending it to the lab as well.”

  “I doubt one of Spears’s followers would have been able to ambush him otherwise,” Jess agreed.

  Blood had pooled on the floor around McPherson’s chair from the slash to his throat. His T-shirt and jeans were soaked in crimson. Blood spatter had showered on the rug in front of his easy chair.

  An evidence tech, on the opposite side of the room, was busy dusting various surfaces for prints. Adams, the Jackson County coroner, joined them in the living room and gave Jess a nod. “Since your detectives insisted I wait until you arrive, I assume I can begin now?”

  “Yes. Thank you for your patience.”

  Adams gathered the tools he would need and leaned over the body. He clipped the knots then carefully removed the sutures. McPherson’s mouth opened easily. Inside was the expected plastic baggie. He removed it and passed it to Jess. “There you go, Chief.”

  The note ignited the outrage she’d been trying to keep under control for days.

  Poor Jess. Now you’ll never know the truth unless you hear it from me. Eric

  Jess passed the note to Harper to document and log into evidence. She walked to the kitchen and stared out the window over the sink. Poor Roger. The big German shepherd trotted the perimeter before stopping to claw at something in the middle of the yard, and then he ran to the back door in hopes of his master letting him in.

  Who had McPherson been protecting by keeping quiet? She turned around and surveyed the kitchen. Buddy had searched this house and found nothing.

  It couldn’t hurt to have another look.

  9911 Conroy Road, 8:30 p.m.

  Jess thanked Lori for the ride home. Dr. Martin Leeds, the Jefferson County coroner, would begin the autopsy on McPherson tomorrow. He couldn’t guarantee he’d have a look tonight. Jess missed Sylvia. She hoped Nina would be found soon and safe.

  The sound of yelping and thumping drew her weary attention to the stairs leading up to her apartment. The puppy half ran, half tumbled down the stairs. He didn’t stop until he plowed into Jess.

  “Hey, fella.” What in the world was she going to do with this animal?

  The BPD cruiser was parked in its usual spot. It was almost dark and Dan wasn’t home yet. She’d spoken to him on the way home from Scottsboro. He was worried sick about Nina. Jess hadn’t been able to reach Sylvia. She could imagine the Baron family was terrified.

  “You look tired.”

  Jess whirled to face her landlord. “George.” She summoned a smile. “I am. I really, really am.”

  “You’ve been working a lot of long hours.” He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

  “I have. We’re on a big case.” She imagined he’d seen the news.

  “I didn’t know you’d gotten a dog?”

  Jess winced. “He’s not mine. I don’t know where he came from. He just showed up at my door last night.”

  “Would you like me to take care of it?” He shrugged. “Call Animal Control?”

  “Oh no.” Jess shook her head. “We’re trying to find his owner.” A frown furrowed its way across her brow. “Do you mind if he stays until we find his owner? I can pay a pet deposit if
you’d prefer.”

  He waved off the idea. “I don’t mind as long as he doesn’t keep digging up my flowers.”

  Oh Lord. Jess hadn’t thought of that. “He dug up some of your flowers? I’m so sorry. I’ll reimburse you.”

  “No real harm done,” George said. “That’s what puppies do. They outgrow the urge eventually. No need for you to worry. You should rest. You work too hard, Jess.”

  “Thank you, George.”

  Jess couldn’t wait to shed these clothes. As she unlocked her door, she glanced back down to the driveway. She hoped Dan would be home soon.

  Inside, she let the puppy explore. She armed the security system then stripped off her clothes and headed for the shower. She needed to wash away the smell of death and the chill of uncertainty.

  She piled her hair on top of her head with a clip. The feel of hot water sluicing over her body was almost enough to chase away the ghosts. Five or so minutes of pure pleasure under the water and she worked up the energy to wash her body. Fortunately, the morning sickness wasn’t plaguing her now the way it had last week. She still suffered with a touch of the queasiness and the fatigue, both of which were normal, according to her doctor.

  As she dried off, she refused to think about Amanda or her father or Maddie. She refused to let Spears invade the peace she so badly needed tonight. A little down time with Dan was exactly what they both needed. She peeked beyond the bathroom door. She wished he were home already.

  After pulling on jeans and a tee, she wondered what to do about food. She wasn’t really hungry though she knew she had to eat. It was too late for a real dinner. She wasn’t in the mood for pizza or Chinese. She poked around in the kitchen. There was milk and eggs. A fresh loaf of bread waited on the counter. Somewhere in the cabinet next to the fridge there was cereal. She could have cereal and maybe Dan would like eggs and toast.

  The puppy stared up at her, his head cocked in question.

  “Hope you like Cheerios.” She poured a pile on the floor for him. Since he gobbled them right up, he clearly didn’t have a problem with boxed cereal.

  No sooner than the milk hit the Cheerios in her bowl the chime sounded, warning she was about to have company. She checked the monitor. Dan.

  Bowl in hand, she hurried to the door, sloshing milk as she went. The puppy followed, lapping up the spills. She disarmed the security system and released the locks.

  The smile he gave her had her melting inside. “Man, it’s good to be home.”

  Jess set her bowl on the coffee table and scrubbed her hands on her hips. “I’ve been worried about you.”

  Dan pulled her into his arms and since the puppy had stretched out on the sofa, he carried her to the bed. He settled there with her in his lap. “We’re not going to talk about investigations. We’re going to finish what we started last night.”

  The sound of stoneware crashing to the floor had them both scrambling off the bed. The puppy had knocked the bowl of Cheerios and milk off the coffee table.

  “I guess we’re still dog sitting?”

  Jess winced. “Cook is trying to find the owner. No luck yet.”

  Dan sighed. “I should take a shower.”

  “Still no word on Nina?”

  “There’s been no ransom demand. Nothing.”

  Jess grabbed some paper towels. “It can’t be Spears. Nina doesn’t fit the profile.” There were plenty of others who didn’t but they were chosen for their connection to Jess. A connection didn’t exist between Jess and Nina. She stopped, turned around. Except Dan. “Oh my God.”

  Dan looked pale. “You think it’s him.”

  She nodded. The urge to cry came from somewhere deep inside her. “If there’s no ransom demand, it has to be him.”

  Dan’s arms were suddenly around her. “We will stop him.”

  She nodded. “We will.”

  He drew back, looked down at her belly, and then put his hand there. “No more talk about this tonight.” He managed a weary smile. “This baby is counting on us to make the right decisions so I made a decision today.” He dropped down on one knee, withdrew a black velvet box from his pocket, and opened it. “I don’t want to waste any more time, Jess. Let’s make this official. Will you marry me?”

  Jess tossed the paper towels. Her hand went to her mouth. The ring was beautiful, far too extravagant, but absolutely beautiful. The tears were scalding her cheeks and she wasn’t sure she could speak. Finally, she managed a nod. “Yes.”

  The puppy bounced over and sniffed the box as Dan removed the ring and slipped it on her finger. He stood, pulled her against him and kissed her so softly, so sweetly, she wanted to cry all over again.

  When he came up for air, he murmured against her lips, “We could put the dog in the bathroom.”

  “Or we could go in the bathroom.”

  “Good idea.”

  With a bowl of water on the floor and the puppy busy having the Cheerios and milk he’d scattered over the floor, they slipped into the bathroom. They stripped off their clothes. He took the clip from her hair and let it fall around her shoulders. Her arms went around his neck, her legs around his waist, and she pressed her body down onto his. She cried out with the incredible sensation of being filled by him.

  Dan carried her to the nearest wall and braced there. He kissed her face and throat, her shoulders. She touched his face, aching at the injury still healing on his forehead. She could have lost him. How did she make sure that didn’t happen? Before the worry could take hold, he found her breast and closed his mouth over her tender nipple. Then he started to move. She came immediately.

  He brought her to that incredible place again before he came, too. The next thing she knew they were in the shower. He washed her so gently. She did the same to him. By the time they dried each other off, they were both too weak to speak.

  When they went in search of something to pull on, the puppy decided he wanted to join them. Jess laughed as she dragged on her favorite tee. She didn’t miss the hint of a smile at one corner of Dan’s mouth as the dog nipped at his heels.

  Her cell clanged. Maybe Leeds had decided to have a look at McPherson’s body after all. Harper. Jess frowned. “What’s up, Sergeant?”

  “Vernon called. The only things on Henshaw’s iPad were countless searches on Spears and you. Nothing else.”

  Another dead end. “Anything else?”

  “I also spoke with one of the evidence techs from the McPherson scene.”

  “And?” Jess’s instincts went on point.

  “His boots have that tread that picks up everything. The techs said the cracks were filled with dirt.”

  “Dirt?”

  “Lots of dirt. They’re checking on construction sites in the area. That’s all I have for now, but I thought you’d want to know. I’m thinking maybe McPherson was doing some investigating of his own on the Brownfield farm.”

  “Could be. Thanks, Sergeant.”

  Jess mulled over the news as she picked up the bowl the puppy had licked clean. She fished the spoon from under the sofa and teased Dan as he mopped up a puppy piddle with paper towels. She made peanut butter sandwiches instead of eggs and toast, grabbed a couple of bottles of water, and they collapsed on the sofa.

  “We used to eat these all the time in college.” Dan licked peanut butter off his lip.

  “And grilled cheese,” she reminded him.

  “Don’t forget the Ramen Noodles.”

  She sighed. “Those were the days. The only worry we had was making the grade.” The puppy tried again to jump up on the sofa with them. “No,” she scolded.

  “What’s he been digging around in?” Dan grabbed his bottle of water and gestured to the pup’s dirty paws.

  “George’s flowerbeds. It’s a wonder he hasn’t evicted me already.”

  “Puppies dig and chew. If you’re thinking of keeping the dog—”

  “Who said I was thinking of keeping him?”

  “Just saying,” Dan countered. “Puppies dig and c
hew.”

  Puppies dig. Jess frowned. “Why would an old dog be digging?”

  Dan looked confused. “Why do you ask?”

  “McPherson’s dog had been shut out of the house when he was murdered. It’s a German shepherd several years old. Lori thinks McPherson expected trouble and put the dog outside where he’d be away from the danger.”

  “What does that have to do with digging?” Dan stuffed another bite into his mouth.

  “The dog kept running to the back door and then he’d go back to the middle of the yard and start digging. Whatever he was clawing at probably wasn’t related to the killer.” She scoffed. “There was no way anyone went into that backyard with that dog without shooting him first. But why was a dog that age digging?”

  “Maybe he was trying to escape the fence,” Dan offered.

  “The spot he kept going back to was nowhere near the fence.” She considered what she did know. “We searched the house even though Buddy had already searched the house and the building in the backyard and found nothing.”

  Dan held up a hand. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

  “He didn’t find anything anyway and it’s not like I asked him to do an illegal search.”

  “And if he had found something?”

  “He didn’t. Harper called and said the treads of McPherson’s boots were packed with dirt,” Jess went on. “Maybe McPherson buried something. Something important. That he didn’t realize he needed to hide until recently. Like today just before he was murdered.” She got to her feet as the idea formed more fully. “Maybe he knew he couldn’t avoid what was coming and hid something. He put Roger out back to protect the dog as well as to protect what he’d buried. The killer wouldn’t have any idea McPherson had buried something and, therefore, no reason to go into the backyard—dog or no dog.”

  “The dog may have been after a gopher or a ground squirrel.”

  “But,” Jess narrowed her gaze, “what if there’s something important to the case buried there?”

  Dan sighed. “I take it we’re going to Scottsboro.”

  “I have to go.” Jess found her cell. “I’m calling Harper.”