Justified

by C. M. Sutter

  Chapter 43

  I clicked off Spelling’s call and set my phone in the cup holder then turned my head and stared out the side window while J.T. drove. I couldn’t get to Milwaukee fast enough. A million thoughts passed through my mind as he sped down the interstate. I didn’t want to go back to that dark place, the night Max had killed my dad and nearly ended Amber’s life. With my eyes squeezed closed, I prayed that screenshot would confirm Max’s identity. He needed to be stopped once and for all. Ten minutes later my phone rang. Spelling was on the line again.

  “Jade, we’re going to need all of that evidence brought to the FBI crime lab. The original letter Max wrote when your dad was killed, the letter your sister opened tonight, and everything related to Max Sims from the sheriff’s department’s evidence room. I want to have all of our ducks in a row once the tech department gets their hands on that flash drive. We’re going to move forward off your facial ID of him.”

  “Boss, I’d like Jack and Amber to give their opinions as well. They’ve both seen Max Sims in person. Would you mind if they sat in?”

  “Actually that’s a good idea, Jade. Jack can bring the evidence with them instead of us sending an agent out to retrieve it. That would definitely speed things up. Do you want to make the call, or would you like me to?”

  “I’ll do it, and they’d probably arrive just before we do.” I hung up and called Jack again.

  “Jack, are you still at my house?”

  “Yeah, I’m sitting here with Amber, keeping my eyes peeled and ears perked. Why?”

  “The FBI needs your help. Would you be willing to come to the downtown headquarters with Amber and help identify the man on the video?”

  “We’ll definitely do that. That maniac needs to be behind bars.”

  “I just got off the phone with SSA Spelling. They’re going to need everything from the evidence room and the letter from tonight. They can compare the handwriting on both letters and see if it’s the same.”

  “Hang on, Jade.”

  I heard Jack call out to Amber to get ready to leave.

  “Okay, I’ll have to fill out a few forms and clear it with Lieutenant Clark first. I can’t remove anything from evidence without his say-so. We probably won’t get there until you do.”

  “That’s fine. Just call me back when you have everything and are on your way.”

  “Will do.”

  “Make sure my house is locked up tight and the alarm is set. Did you request somebody to sit in front of my mom’s house?”

  “Deputies Ryan and Taylor are there. We’ll see you soon.”

  I clicked off and checked the time—we still had an hour drive ahead of us. I watched as the “Welcome to Wisconsin” sign passed the window on my side of the car.

  At eleven fifteen, J.T. pulled into the parking garage on East Kilbourn Street. He swiped his badge, and the gate lifted. He parked on the third floor, where the FBI’s designated and reserved spaces were located. We exited the car and took the enclosed footbridge to the bureau’s double doors, where he had to swipe his badge one more time.

  I had been on that floor only a few times and didn’t know where all of the departments were located.

  “This way,” J.T. said. “Let’s get that flash drive to the tech department while we wait for Jack and Amber to arrive. Spelling should be here already.”

  I had spoken with Jack just before we pulled into the parking garage, and he said they were about ten minutes behind us. J.T. called ahead and had an agent sent down to the building’s street entrance to allow Jack and Amber in once they arrived.

  I followed J.T. through several hallways until we reached a security door that led into the FBI’s tech department. J.T. pressed his thumb against the pad, and the locked doors parted. We entered a room where dozens of computers and landline phones sat on rows of countertops. Three wall-mounted televisions hung on each wall. I recognized the faces of a few people that I had interacted with occasionally in the past. Joe Williams and Penny Falk were among the twelve agents waiting in the room.

  Spelling pushed back his chair, stood, and walked toward us. “J.T., Jade, good to see both of you back home. Okay, everything is waiting for Jack and Amber’s arrival. A handwriting specialist is on board to compare those notes, and the forensics department is ready for that sock. They’ve already entered Max Sims’s name and pulled up his DNA profile.”

  I handed the bag of evidence from the hospital to Spelling. “The sock is bagged by itself, boss.”

  Spelling passed the bag to an agent standing by. “Get this evidence to forensics immediately. Have them compare the man’s sock to Max Sims’s DNA profile. Tell them to put a rush on it. With that new chip-testing process, we should have our answer tonight.”

  “Yes, sir.” The agent disappeared out the tech department door with the bag in hand.

  Spelling’s phone rang. “SSA Spelling speaking. Yes, show them up.” He clicked off. “Jack and Amber just walked in. Let’s get that video set up.”

  I pulled the flash drive out of my purse and handed it to Spelling. “Here you go, boss.”

  Spelling passed it off to Agent Williams, who inserted the drive into the port on the side of his computer. “Okay, with a little computer magic and a lot of luck, we should be able to get rid of the majority of the pixels and pull that image in closer. Let’s see what we have.”

  J.T. leaned in. “The image in the mirror is at the seven-minute mark.”

  When the door opened, we turned to look over our shoulders. Jack and Amber entered the room with a man who was addressed as Agent Wesley.

  “Jade,” Amber said as she gave me a quick embrace. Anxiety was written across her face, and I knew those horrific memories of Max Sims would be ingrained in her mind forever.

  I gave her hand a squeeze. “It’ll be okay, Amber. If this turns out to be Max Sims, I guarantee he won’t get away a second time.”

  I introduced Jack and Amber to J.T. and Spelling. They had never met in person even though Jack and Amber had had phone conversations with J.T. in the past. After the handshakes, Jack pulled out the newly bagged letter. We stood around a table centered in the room and read over the letter together.

  “You have the original one too?” Spelling asked.

  Jack nodded and pulled the blood-stained letter out of the evidence bag. He gave me a quick glance as I turned my head. “Sorry, Jade.”

  Spelling took both bagged letters and gave them to the handwriting specialist, Gladys Bindrich. She took them to the far corner of the room and sat at a table, alone with her tools of the trade. Spelling took the evidence bag from Jack, tipped his head to an agent sitting among the rest, and asked him to deliver it to the forensics lab.

  “Shall we begin?” Spelling said as he rolled additional guest chairs up to the computer Agent Williams was using. The video was paused at the seven-minute mark.

  I looked at the screen and gave a short synopsis of what had transpired so far. “At this point, our perp had done a bit of shopping. He wanted a new baseball-style cap and stationery. We’re assuming the paper, envelopes, and stamps he bought were for the sole purpose of crafting that letter to me. We’re coming up on the section of the videotape where he decided to try on several new caps. He wanted to swap out the one he had been wearing because it was easily identifiable. He told the clerk, Jane Weeks, that he wanted to buy a dark-colored cap without any markings on it.”

  Spelling smirked. “And his reasons were twofold. He wanted to stay hidden under a cap at all times, and he didn’t want one that would show blood or be easily recognized with writing or an image on it.”

  I looked up at Spelling. “That’s correct, sir. Anyway, he always stayed behind the camera lens, especially when he took off his cap and tried on a few new ones. Thankfully, J.T. caught his image on the opposite side of the room as he faced the clerk. It was right when he took off the new cap to go pay for it. That’s coming up in just a second.”

  Agent Williams progressed the tap
e at quarter speed. “Tell me when to stop.”

  J.T. watched over my shoulder. “Okay, right now.”

  Agent Williams paused the tape, made several adjustments to the software program he was using, and click by click, he was able to reduce the pixels as he brought the still shot in closer.

  I saw the image sharpen. “Wow, that’s becoming a lot clearer. How much more can you zoom in?”

  “We’re nearly maxed out. A few more clicks to reduce the pixelation and it will be as good as it gets. Okay, that’s it.”

  Jack, Amber, and I crowded around the screen as Agent Williams moved his chair out of our way. I realized from the expression Amber wore that we were staring at the face of our father’s killer. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I quickly brushed them away. I needed to be strong for my sister and my job. I knew Amber recognized him. Her fingerprints were embedded in my forearm.

  “It’s him,” she said.

  I turned my head. “Jack, your opinion?”

  “It’s definitely Max. I’m one hundred percent sure.”

  “Okay, now we just need confirmation on the handwriting comparisons and the DNA match. As soon as those are confirmed, we’ll get an APB out on him and make sure all law enforcement agencies know we have a fugitive that’s on the FBI’s Ten Most Wanted list, likely within a one-hundred-mile radius of Milwaukee.” Spelling addressed J.T. and me. “Did anyone ever get the plate number that went to Todd Johnson’s Buick?”

  I stood up and paced. “All we were told was that it was an Indiana plate. As far as I knew, Thomasboro PD was taking care of that.”

  “Okay, somebody pull up the DMV site for Indiana. Type in Todd Johnson’s name and gray Buick LaCrosse. See what shakes out. J.T., did you get an address for him?”

  “No, but I’m calling Thomasboro right now.”

  I was surprised to feel my phone vibrate in my pocket at that hour of the night. I stepped away from the crowd momentarily and answered it.

  “Jade Monroe speaking.”

  “Agent Monroe, it’s Lieutenant Peters from the Matteson Police Department. Sorry for the late hour, but this incident has been nagging at me all afternoon. I want to update you on something that happened earlier today around the time the call came in for the dead girl at the motel. Of course we were preoccupied at the murder scene, so this slipped under our radar. I don’t know if it’s relative to your case, but it being in the same proximity as the motel struck a nerve with me.”

  “Okay, you have my attention. Go ahead, sir.”

  “One of our rookie patrol officers took a report of a woman being carjacked at a grocery store.”

  “Do you have the details?”

  “All she could say with certainty was that somebody conked her on the back of the head. She didn’t see the person at all but woke up a few minutes later in a strange car, and hers was gone.”

  I groaned and squeezed my eyes closed. I knew where this was going. “And do you have the make and model of both cars?”

  “Yes, Agent Monroe, we do. The carjacked vehicle is a four-door 2010 black Ford Focus. Illinois plates A69-HHY.”

  “Hang on one second, please.” I called out to Amber. “Sis, bring me a notepad and pen.” Amber rushed to my side, ready to write. “Okay, take down these plate numbers. First one is for a 2010 black Ford Focus sedan, Illinois plate number A69-HHY. Okay, the next vehicle, sir.”

  “It’s a gray Buick LaCrosse. No plates.”

  I raked my hair with my fingers. “That’s what I was afraid you’d say. What happened to that vehicle?”

  “It was towed to our impound lot.”

  “Good. That vehicle is related to this case, and there may be evidence inside. Don’t let anyone mess with the car. Cover it up, and I’ll be in touch. Is the woman all right?”

  “As far as I know she is. She refused medical treatment at the scene.”

  “Okay, thank you, Lieutenant Peters.” I clicked off and joined the others.

  “What’s going on, Monroe?” Spelling asked.

  “That was Lieutenant Peters with the Matteson PD. It looks like Max changed vehicles. Apparently, a woman called in a carjacking this afternoon, relatively close to the motel where the dead teenager was found. The woman’s car was taken, and a gray Buick LaCrosse was left behind. He pulled the plates off the Buick, probably to buy some time. So, that makes the most recent vehicle Max is driving a 2010 black Ford Focus. Illinois tag number is…” I looked at Amber, and she read it aloud.

  “A69-HHY.”

  Spelling slapped his hands together. “Okay, folks, let’s get that information updated and put out across the wires.”

  Chapter 44

  Amber offered to make a pot of coffee while the five of us gathered around the table in the war room. We thanked the agents in the tech department for their help, and they left to get back to their usual duties.

  Gladys knocked on the glass door, and Spelling waved her in.

  “I’ve completed my analysis, sir.”

  “Please, come in, Gladys, and show us what you have.”

  She entered the room and set both letters in plastic sleeves on the table. Her notes were listed in bullet points on a legal pad to her right.

  “Okay, see how he capitalizes almost every E? Both letters are like that.” She pointed at the examples with her pencil. “He also uses a slight downward slant at the end of most words. His o’s are usually open at the top, and what I thought was the most telling of the same author was that sometimes he wrote in cursive and sometimes he didn’t. That’s unique to people who are distracted or have too many thoughts in their heads at once. The writing pressure appears the same in both letters too. My opinion is that the letters were written by the same author.”

  “That’s exactly what we needed to hear, Gladys. Thank you very much.”

  She smiled at Spelling, then at the rest of us around the table. She excused herself and closed the door at her back.

  The DNA comparison was all that remained. The forensics department told SSA Spelling that we should have the results within the hour. As we waited for word, we compiled everything we knew. Agent Spelling asked J.T. to name every area where people were found dead at the hands of Max Sims.

  J.T. pulled out his phone and scrolled to the page of notes he had compiled in notepad form, which he intended to print out. “I’ll read them off my phone. It’ll go faster that way.”

  Spelling nodded the go-ahead while he stood next to the US map on the wall.

  “Okay, I’m beginning where we took on the case. We still don’t know what he did prior to that, other than killing John Pratt in Hensley, Arkansas.”

  “Hold on, J.T. I’ll stick a push pin there as our starting point.” Agent Spelling drove a red push pin into the map at Hensley, Arkansas. He motioned for J.T. to continue.

  “The semi belonging to Fred West was from Conway, Arkansas, and dumped near Bull Shoals-White River State Park.” Spelling added more pins. “From there, we don’t know how he reached Lake of the Ozarks State Park, but that was where Jade and I came in on the scene.”

  Another pin was pushed into the map. “We’re assuming that’s when he caught a ride with Ray Moore and continued north,” Spelling said.

  “That’s correct, sir. They went north on State Highway 54 to I-70, where they turned east. They took the interstate to Effingham then cut north on I-57. Brooklyn and Ray Moore were located a mile or so up the road. Jane was kidnapped south of Champaign at the truck stop she worked at, and the police officer and Todd Johnson were killed in Thomasboro, Illinois.” J.T. waited as Spelling added pins. “Jane was dumped in Danforth, Illinois, and the last known whereabouts of Max was at the motel in Matteson, where he killed the runaway. From that point on, we don’t have any information.” J.T. gave each face a concerned look. “We’re assuming he’s heading this way, especially because of the letter sent to Jade’s house and postmarked from Matteson.”

  Spelling ground his fist into his bloodshot eyes. “What I don’t un
derstand is why the heads-up.”

  I offered my opinion. “You’d have to know Max, sir. He’s fearless, or just stupid, and takes orders from his old man, Darryl Sims, who’s locked up at Boscobel.”

  “Yes, I know the story, but the father still controls what Max does, even as a grown man?”

  “Apparently so, and I must be the next person on his hit list. Max is calling me out, hence the second letter. He thinks he’s smarter than all of us and will get away again, and old man Sims is probably feeding right into that theory. He doesn’t care about Max’s welfare. Max is a tool for Darryl, nothing more. He’s a minion meant to carry out the deeds Darryl wants done from behind prison bars.”

  When the coffeepot beeped, Amber pushed back her chair. She brought the carafe and a stack of cups to the table and set them down. I gave her a quick smile and nodded a thank-you. She stared at me with concern written across her face.

  “Is there something you want to add, Amber?”

  “I’m just confused, that’s all. I know Max needed to stay scarce for a while until the attention died down and his trail went cold, but why resurface now? If you’re his main target, then why kill so many people in the process of coming back to Wisconsin?”

  “Good question, Amber,” Spelling said.

  “I believe the recent killings were something to occupy Max’s time, and he thought he could get away with it using the ‘bear killings’ ruse. When that fell apart, he tortured and killed people for the pure enjoyment of it. You’d have to know the Sims history, boss.” I poured several cups of coffee and passed them out. “They just like to kill. There isn’t always a trigger, especially with serial killers like them. Darryl Sims began killing twenty or more years ago and had Max assist him. He was only a teenager at the time, but I believe he grew to enjoy it. Taking somebody’s life gave him a sense of power that he didn’t get anywhere else. Max never had a girlfriend or wife, but he wanted to control women, and that’s how he did it, by killing them. Killing men wasn’t on his playlist, so to speak. It was only out of necessity at times. Women were his main targets unless Darryl specified someone in particular.” I sighed deeply then went on. “After Darryl was incarcerated, Max continued on his own. We only know of the deaths Darryl orchestrated for Max to carry out this past year. There may be more, but we don’t know that for sure. One thing we do know is that Max liked using a variety of torture and killing tools. In the past, he enjoyed silencing women with ball gags. He used hammers, skinning knives—tools of the trade, one might say, for their deaths. It seems like he’s continuing in that same manner, hence the backpack probably filled with those morbid types of devices. The Neko Te seemed to be his weapon of choice this time until he lost one of the claws.” I took a swallow of coffee and waited for somebody else to speak.