His expression shifted and bordered on fury. “They’re making you solve that to make detective?! If no one has solved it in fifteen years, how the hell do they expect you to do it? They’ll tie you up for years, doing the dirty work of people who have retired by now!”
My eyes rounded and I lifted my hands in supplication. “I don’t have to solve it. I can pick another unsolved case to work on. Or,” I let out a bitter laugh, “I could finish digitizing unsolved cases that date back from before computers.”
Dad’s shoulders relaxed. “Then why pick the serial killer?”
“Because when I asked my supervisor what the granddaddy of all unsolved cases was, he told me about the case, with a disclaimer.”
“Ah,” Dad said, hanging his head again. “My name came up.”
I nodded. “He told me that you copycatted the serial killer and were their main suspect for a while, there.”
He nodded before looking back up at me. “I was so relieved when I was told that all the foster parents had told you kids that I’d just gotten depressed again. I’m still not sure how they kept you guys all away from the news coverage.”
I could only shake my head. “I was only ten, and couldn’t have cared less about the news, back then. The others were even younger. And, as far as I know, I’m the only one who looked it up and knows why you were locked up.”
“I wondered how long my past being in my past would last. Now, I know.”
“I don’t think any less of you, Dad. I promised myself when you came back into my life, ten years ago, that I would wipe the slate clean and judge you only on how you behaved from that point on.”
“I think that’s more gracious than I deserve.”
“You were sick when all that went down. Even I understood that, when I read the transcripts on the net. It was easier for me to grasp that concept because I had vivid memories of what you were like, before.”
“But would you be so understanding of that, had those officers not stopped me in time?”
I let that roll around my head for a moment. “I admit, it’d be more difficult to get past the idea of you having killed somebody. But you were still sick. And then you dedicated yourself to healing.”
He let out a chuckle. “There wasn’t much else to do in there.”
“You know what I mean.”
He let out a long sigh. “I was very aware of how fortunate I was to have been spared prison. And, it wasn’t lost on me how easily they could have pressed to pin the other murders on me, as well. But I need for you to understand it wasn’t me trying to copycat. I—”
I held a hand up. “I re-read the transcript from your testimony today. You were there that night for your own reasons. I get it.”
“And even knowing how wrapped up in it my name is, you still want to pursue this case?”
“I do.”
“Why?”
“Because there’s a cloud of doubt hanging over your head, in as far as a lot of people are still concerned. I’d like to clear that cloud away. I want you to be able to walk around with your head held high.”
“Honey,” he reached across the table for my hand and I reached out to let him hold it. “The other cloud above my head is that I lost all my children because I went ‘crazy’. Nothing will ever be able to erase that one. So, who cares if some of them still think I did the murders? The doubt held by other people doesn’t bother me.”
“Dad, you hardly go anywhere outside of your routine.”
“I don’t do that because of how others might think of me. Hell, those people see how you and two of your sisters have embraced me back into your adult lives.”
“Then you tell me why.”
“Because, the smaller and more predictable my world is, the easier it is to deal with and keep manageable.”
“I just remember how social you and Mom were.”
“Superficial relationships, at best. Who of that group came around after the first week of your mother being gone? Who among them offered to help, or take you and your siblings in, to spare all of you from being in the system?” He shook his head. “I’d rather have a few solid relationships, rather than a hundred superficial ones.”
“Your solid relationships consist of people you write paychecks for.”
“And how many people can say that? Having a team as solid as it is, is the only reason why we’ve all stayed together and have been so successful. How many people out there have to go to work with backstabbers, day after day? How many people out there hate their jobs? Max and I have cultivated a group of people with deep relationships. It’s something we’ve striven to hold together as we’ve expanded and taken more people on. It makes work a pleasure. No way am I giving that up.”
I smiled with a silent chuckle. “Okay, so if you don’t care about the doubt, then, fine.”
Dad raised an eyebrow at me.
“Then let’s just get to the truth.”
“Please.”
“I want to solve the case because I want to knock people off their feet with how good I am.”
Dad grinned. “Said just like every new detective out there.”
I nodded. “It’s how Dale knew to have a thumb drive handy with everything for the case on it. Everyone in the station has probably wanted to be the one to bring in the killer.”
“Everyone connected to the state police, in this whole corner of the state.”
I nodded. “And you think I’m wasting my time.”
He shrugged. “You know I believe in you.”
I nodded.
“But how many people have investigated it over the years? What are you going to bring to the case that’s any different? And what additional evidence can you gather now?”
I shook my head. “Yeah, I don’t know. I haven’t fully dug into it, yet. All I got through was reading the part of your file that pertained to your trial, because I wanted to see how they handled you. And, you’re right, they could have pressed to pin it all on you, just so that they could bring somebody, anybody, in for the killing spree. People were really on the state police to catch the guy.”
He nodded.
“And you’d still be rotting there, because no one has come forward with anything new.”
Dad looked like he wanted to say something, but was holding himself back.
My eyes shifted over to Kelly.
She smiled and took in a breath. “Your father wishes that the serial killer had started the shootings sooner.”
I sat back in my chair and thought about it. “Because he targeted drunk drivers.”
He nodded. “I didn’t know that’s what the killer was doing, but once I found out, yeah. I wish he would have started the night your Mom died, and stopped her killer from crashing into her.”
I thought about that a moment, “Except, he didn’t kill them until they were in their own parking space, and Mom’s killer never made it home that night.”
Dad’s eyes moved around the room as he thought, “Huh, I guess that’s right. He’d have witnessed the crash, instead.” He shook his head, “Either way, once I found out that was who he was targeting, I found that I admired his intent to clear the roads of people like that. I actually kind of like that whoever it is has gotten away with it.”
“So do a lot of other people,” Kelly softly interjected.
“So, you object to my investigating it,” I said.
“No,” Dad said. “It sounds like a rite of passage around your precinct. Do what you need to do.”
“So… you’re okay with it?”
His forehead crinkled in surprise. “You came here for my blessing?”
“Well… yeah. I mean, it might be a part of your life you don’t really want me mucking around in.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m going to level with you, can you handle that?”
I know my eyes widened as I nodded at him.
“Okay. So, no. No, I don’t want you digging it up and asking questions, especially asking me questions abo
ut it. It’s not a part of my life that I’m proud of, and a period I’d like to forget ever happened. And yet, if it hadn’t have happened, I wouldn’t be here now. I’ve come a long way from where I once was, because of the five years of intense, in-patient treatment I received.”
“If you don’t want me to—”
His hand came up this time, to silence me. “If I tell you not to, you’re always going to wonder why. Wonder if there is something I’m trying to hide. Do I want you reading the rest of my file? No–”
“Why?”
He eyed me and cleared his throat as he shifted further back in his seat. “Because it wasn’t the last time I was suspected of murder. And, frankly, I’m not too awful proud of my alibi for that particular night, either.”
Kelly reached over and squeezed his hand even as she looked at me. “His alibi is perfectly fine, given the fact that he’s human.”
“I don’t have to read any more of your file. I just read what pertained to the unsolved case, that’s all.”
He nodded. “You do what you have to do, sweetheart. If you want to take a crack at it, go for it. Just don’t expect me to applaud if you’re able to put the killer in jail, that’s all I’m saying.”
“I understand. Thank you.”
He winked at me. “Anything for you, baby.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Everyone Has Skeletons in Their Closet
“So, what are you going to do?” Logan asked me as we sat down to a breakfast of toast, orange juice, and grapes.
“After my conversation with Dad last night, I want to leave the Driveway Shooter case file alone. As his daughter, I know enough about the bad parts of his life to know that I don’t want to find out about anything worse.”
“Like what?”
“Like maybe why people think it’s justified that he’s still the prime suspect.”
“He was cleared.”
“Based solely on having reasonable doubt.”
Logan leveled his eyes on mine.
All I could do was shrug. “He used to be pretty messed up. Years of inpatient treatment have turned him into such a mild-mannered person. Whatever he may have done in the past can stay in the past.”
“Okay,” he said with a nod, looking back down at his plate. “So, did any other cases grab your attention?”
I let out a whimper.
His head came back up, took in my expression, and smiled. “Uh oh.”
I let out a sigh. “As a police officer, I’m intrigued by the mystery. I mean, how can someone come out of nowhere, start shooting at people for Thursday night kicks, and then just stop and slink back off to where he or she came from? I just don’t get it.”
“You could look into other killings, in other areas or states, see if you come across anything similar. Maybe he moved on to another location.”
“Ugh,” I slouched back in my chair. “As a human, Dad has a point. Do I really want to see someone who targeted drunk drivers go to jail? That’s the real conundrum in this, for me. The victims were committing criminal acts.” I paused to shake my head. “People have argued that to drive drunk is the equivalent of attempted murder. And, honestly, I agree.”
He grinned. “So, don’t investigate and let the person go free.”
“But the killings were illegal.”
“But he or she was doing good deeds.”
“It was vigilante justice.”
“Justice, is justice.”
“But not gone about in a justified way.”
Logan shrugged, “That depends on who you’re asking. If someone had killed your mother’s drunk driver during one of his previous drunken outings, you’d have never lost you mother. Or your father, for that matter.”
I thought about that. “I wouldn’t know that the shooter had saved my mom, though.”
“Exactly,” he said with a wink. “How many people did that serial killer save? How many innocent people would have died at the wheel because of those drunk drivers?”
“We don’t know the answer to that.”
“And we never will. And that’s the crux of this case. We don’t know if or how many others those victims would have killed. What we do know is that he was killing off criminals who hadn’t been caught yet, because the police weren’t on to them.”
I let out a sigh. “You’re a lawyer. You know damn right well this guy may have felt justified, but in the eyes of the law it wasn’t his place to go out and dole out death sentences. Those victims were robbed of their due diligence and justice.”
“You know I love a good debate. And as a lawyer, it’s my job to look at the whole picture and defend a client, no matter what side of the law they sit on.”
I chuckled softly. “And the murderer is your client?”
He laughed. “No. I’m nowhere near experienced enough to even think of defending a serial killer. At least, not on my own. I’m just saying, the roads are safer without drunk drivers on them. Even if someone knows the truth of the killer’s identity, they may not talk.”
My head came up on that one. “You know what? You may have a point. That could be why it was never solved.” I wiped my mouth with a napkin and started gathering dishes.
“How much of this is personal for you?”
I paused and turned towards him. “Why?”
“Look,” he said, before glancing at the time and downing the rest of his juice. “Your father went after a drunk driver and ended up doing five years for it. He did more time than the drunk driver he was following did, because she’d completed the drive without crashing. But, those five years were crucial to your father’s mental health. Would he have been able to find the peaceful life he’s living, without the forced inpatient care?”
I could only shake my head. “I don’t know.”
“And that’s my point, we don’t know. We don’t know if those people would have ended up killing anybody, or who those people would have been. We don’t know if the killer was fighting his own mental health demons, or if treatment would have helped. We don’t know if one of the drunk drivers somehow fought back and killed the killer and knew what to do with the body. We don’t know a lot of things about it. What I do know is that bringing attention back to this case is going to open a public debate, and something like that can go well, or it can go very bad.”
I let out a sigh. “So, I should let it go and dig up another case.”
“Listen,” he stood and wrapped an arm around me, placing a kiss on the top of my head. “There’s no way of telling which unsolved cases you’re capable of solving, and which ones you aren’t. Be prepared for some trial and error as you wade through files. I believe in you. You know I do. I just don’t want you getting so personally and obsessively involved in this that you can’t deal with not being able to solve it.”
I looked up at him in confusion. “When have I ever gotten obsessively wrapped up in a case?”
His eyes gentled and worry clouded in. “Alcohol entrenched itself in your grandfather’s life, which messed up your father’s life. And then, it took away your mother. You, yourself, won’t touch it for fear of inheriting alcoholism. That’s aside from you father’s connection to the case, a father you love. So, yeah, I don’t want you obsessing over the case, if you take it on.”
I drew my head back. “You’re afraid I’ll figure it out and then not turn the person in, because he was offing drunk drivers?”
“Don’t put words in my mouth. I’m afraid alcoholism has affected you more than you acknowledge, and I don’t want a case like this triggering something in you.”
“You’re worried about my mental health.”
“A bit, yeah.”
I wanted to get defensive, but if I were in his shoes I’d worry about me, too. “I’ll try to keep a close eye on myself, okay?”
I was sitting at my new post, in The Land of the Lost, reading through all the notes in the file for the Driveway Shooter.
Don’t ask me why I was becoming more and more determined
to start pulling it all apart and digging a trench around it, to do battle, because I didn’t know why.
…Ah, hell, yes, I do.
I wanted to prove who did it, so I could prove that my father didn’t.
I know, I do, I know what he said. He said that he didn’t care.
Here’s the thing… When I went looking through the portion concerning my father, I found that the reason they didn’t charge him wasn’t because he’d proven he couldn’t have done it. It was solely because they couldn’t prove that he did.
No one was living with him. The location on his phone was habitually turned off during those time periods. His therapy sessions and subsequent dinners out would have still left him with time to get to the sites in time to fish for a victim, despite having parking lot footage of him leaving in the direction of home.
Sitting across from Dad last night, listening to him calmly talk about what happened, nothing struck me as suspicious. So, I didn’t feel like I was poking at a murderer. I felt like he’d just rather I not know about all the things he wasn’t proud of, as anyone would feel about their own kid digging through their ill deeds.
But he’d been mentally ill, and after fifteen years, may feel so emotionally and physically detached from his crime, that he may have disassociated himself from it
Not that I wanted to find that Dad was guilty of all those murders. Far from it.
I wanted to prove that he was innocent. Because if any information were to ever find its way to the police, I knew Dad’s story would be the first thing they’d compare it to.
I didn’t want this to come back and bite him in the ass again, every time it came up. I wanted to lay this to rest for him, and for me.
I wanted to be able to stop worrying that something would happen, at some point, to drive my father straight back into his depression. It’s something I’ve feared since the first time I’d spotted him in the car, outside of my high school. It’s a fear I’ve lived with every day of my life, since.
I wouldn’t be able to stop another tragedy like my mother’s, if one was on the horizon. But this case hanging over his head, the weight he bore on his shoulders, knowing he’s still the prime suspect, this was a weight I could lift from him. This was a potential trigger that I could remove.
We're All Broken Page 18