Killer Blonde

by Allan Evans

  “My name is Freddie Goodwin, Special Investigator with the Minnesota Bureau of Criminal Apprehension. The purpose of this gathering is to notify the public of a serious threat on our highways.” Cade could only shake his head in disbelief as Goodwin gave a dramatic pause, his eyes searching the room, before continuing. “Evidence has come to light of a serial murderer operating in the Twin Cities metro area.”

  The effect was immediate. Hands were raised, while other less-patient media people shouted questions. Goodwin held up a hand to silence the room, looking as if he were put out by the attention. The tightness at the corners of his mouth betrayed his actual pleasure.

  “Three women have been connected to the killings so far. The first, Jennifer Allard, was an attorney from Bayport. Her one-car fatality was investigated as an accident approximately 45 days ago. The second victim, Holly Janek, was an event planner on her way home to Stillwater. She was killed approximately 12 days ago. Our third victim, Stephanie Harding was killed yesterday just south of downtown Stillwater in the early morning hours. All three women died of blunt force trauma to the head.”

  Goodwin shuffled through his papers. After a moment’s hesitation, he continued. “State Patrol investigator Cade Dawkins, upon finding similarities between the three deaths, notified his superior, who in turn, notified the BCA. As we are better equipped to investigate murder cases, the BCA will own this case going forward.”

  Goodwin, with a slight smile, glanced in Cade’s direction. “Since the BCA has just taken over the case, we do not have a suspect at this time. My educated guess is we’ll have made substantial progress in the near future.”

  Looking around the room with the type of smile only other hyenas would recognize, Goodwin asked, “Questions?”

  A dark-haired woman in the second row was the first to her feet. “Cynthia Margolis, Minnesota Public Radio news. What evidence tied the three women together? Can you be specific?”

  “Well,” Goodwin began, “all three were eerily similar in demographics, and the physical evidence found at the crime scenes pointed to identical methods to disable their vehicles. Also, a crude tracking beacon was used by the killer to follow each of the victims. Obviously, in an ongoing investigation, it wouldn’t be prudent to elaborate further. Next question.”

  A reporter from the Fox affiliate spoke up. “I’d like to ask Cade Dawkins a question if you don’t mind.” Stunned, Goodwin simply shrugged.

  “As a former BCA investigator yourself, and having solved the infamous highway shootings case last fall, aren’t you equally qualified to work this case?”

  With a grin in Goodwin’s direction, Cade spoke. “Equally qualified? I don’t know about that. Would I like to remain active in this investigation? Yes. However, it’s not up to me.”

  Front and center, Reynolds stood as she commanded the room’s attention. “Reynolds DeVries from the Five. Mr. Dawkins, in the interest of public safety, will you share with us the similar physical descriptions of the victims you discovered?” She had a twinkle in her eye.

  Glancing at Goodwin, Cade spoke. “Each of the victims was female, ranging in age from 24 to 30, heights ranging from five foot seven to five foot nine. All three had long blonde hair and could be described as beautiful. Actually, as I think about it, all three looked remarkably similar to you, Miss DeVries.”

  That did it. The room went a little crazy after that.

  It was a cloudy morning in Woodbury as Mother Nature threatened one last snowstorm before spring made its presence felt. In Minnesota, the weather in March could be maddening. Just when you thought you’d seen the last of the snow and you finally felt the warmth of the sun on the back of your neck, the hammer dropped and the snow fell once again. Climbing out of his car, Cade glanced at the mass of gray hanging overhead and hoped the snowstorm would miss the Twin Cities.

  Ever since the press conference ended in pandemonium, Cade was adrift. He hated having the case taken from him. What made it worse was he knew the killer was out there stalking the same highways he drove every day. The same highways his Patrol division was sworn to protect. But there was nothing he could do about the case now. However, the media didn’t care and focused much of their reporting on him. In a deep, dark place inside, Cade didn’t mind the spotlight turning away from Goodwin.

  With his newfound free time, Cade shopped for a new truck. He’d found a Toyota FJ Cruiser on Craigslist that caught his eye. Hence his visit to the State Credit Union to meet with a loan officer.

  For a Tuesday morning, the bank was busy. A half-dozen people stood at the teller windows, while several others waited with Cade to see a loan officer. A conservatively dressed blonde woman approached and glanced between Cade and the other man sitting across from him. “Cade Dawkins?”

  “That’s me,” he said as he stood.

  “Lindsay Miller,” she replied as she shook his hand and led him back to her office, gesturing for him to take a seat. She rounded her desk and stopped, gawking at the lobby. “Oh dear.”

  Three heavily armed men had just entered the credit union and made a beeline for the teller windows. Cade was reaching for his Glock pistol when one of the men separated from the others and approached the office. He held a pump-style shotgun. Cade left the pistol in its holster.

  “Come out here.” He waved the others from the offices. “On the floor. Now.” Miller and Cade got on the floor. He was careful to keep his holster away from the men. The man moved into a position near the entrance, his shotgun leveled at the group of hostages.

  A woman cried out from the teller line as one of the men shoved her. “Over there. On the floor.” The man corralled the remaining customers, brandishing his shotgun. Cade noted his jerky movements, recognizing that the man was amped on something far stronger than adrenaline. This one would be more unpredictable, making a tense situation even worse.

  The third man was at the teller windows, swinging his weapon between the four bank tellers. The way the third man shifted his weight side to side, suggesting he might be on the same better living through chemistry routine the second man followed. Stepping close to a young woman in one of the middle windows, he yelled at her to hurry up. From the look on the teller’s face, she was terrified. He knew the bank’s protocol was to cooperate and hoped she would follow it to the letter. The combination of drugs and adrenaline in such an explosive situation could lead to a bad outcome.

  Cade glanced at his loan officer. A track of tears went down her cheek, but she held it together otherwise. Cade found he could get out of view by leaning back under the counter that housed the deposit forms, loan applications, and suckers.

  “Thirty seconds,” the man by the entrance announced. Cade leaned forward, startled by the man’s shout. At that moment, a woman entered the lobby and was immediately greeted by the gunman. He pushed her toward the others on the floor. Seizing the moment to take advantage of the gunman’s distraction, Cade slipped out his cell and leaned back out of sight.

  Cade hit the phone icon, glanced at the recent list and picked one to re-dial. He reached Capt. Rejene on the second ring. Before he could say anything, she was speaking. “Cade. Great, I’ll put you on speaker,” she said. “I’ve got Zink here, something’s come up.”

  Unbelievable.

  “I really can’t talk,” he hissed. Time was against him. “Listen carefully. I’m at the State Credit Union in Woodbury. There are three armed men, two with shotguns, and one…” he paused, sneaking a peek toward the third man at the teller windows, “And the third has an Uzi. Maybe a dozen hostages.”

  “Go notify dispatch,” Rejene said, obviously directing Rob.

  The second gunman moved into Cade’s view. Keeping the phone out of sight, Cade leaned forward, praying the man hasn’t seen what he was up to. The man took a step toward Cade and abruptly pivoted back toward the teller windows. Cade let out the breath he was holding. That was close.

  Leaning back under the counter, he heard Rejene speaking. “I know you know procedur
es, so lay low and don’t identify yourself. Leave the line open. Help is on the way.”

  “One minute,” the man by the entrance calmly announced.

  Cade lowered the cell phone and placed it on the floor against the counter. He leaned back out and glanced around at the hostage group. If anyone had seen him on his cell phone, no one gave any indication. The man who was waiting with Cade had his head buried in his arms and several of the women huddled together looking scared, while a mom and her young son sat on the floor as she bounced him on her leg. His giggle was surreal in the midst of the tense situation.

  Scanning the windows, Cade caught a glimpse of white flashing by. Woodbury police had arrived.

  “90 seconds. Time to go.” The first man announced as he peered out the entrance. He was joined by the other gunmen, each carrying a sack. “And we have a cop car outside.”

  The third gunman, the one with the Uzi seemed to be in charge. “A complication, but not unexpected. Send out the hostages and I’ll take the cop out in the confusion.” This complication changed everything for Cade. He could no longer wait for someone else to take care of the situation. Not when a cop’s life was in danger.

  The second man held up his shotgun. “Everyone up on their feet. Now.” He pushed the group toward the entrance where they were corralled at the door. “When I say go, you have five seconds to get out of here. You better run.”

  The man with the Uzi slipped into the group, the deadly weapon hidden inside his jacket. His plan obvious, he would blend in with the panicked group as they ran from the building. Most would run for the protection of the police car, and the officer would have little chance to defend himself when the Uzi made its sudden appearance.

  Cade knew he had to act soon. The gunman by the door shouted, “Go, go.” Everyone surged at the entrance, pushing out the door, a collective feeling of panic and hope driving them.

  At the rear of the group, Cade found himself next to the nervous second gunman. Seizing the opportunity, Cade stomped down hard on the man’s foot, pulling the shotgun from his hands. Reversing the shotgun, he drove the butt of the gun into the gunman’s belly, doubling him over and dropping him.

  Without hesitation, Cade moved to the man at the entrance, body slamming the robber into the wall. He ducked out the door, deperate to find the third man, the one with the Uzi.

  Panic gripped everyone, and the pack surged, screaming and running toward the police car. The young Woodbury officer had his gun out but lowered it as the crowd of panicking hostages descended upon him. It was sheer pandemonium. No way the academy had trained him for situations like this. The mother scooped up her child and was the first to reach the squad. A group of four credit union staff followed them, three of the women holding hands as they ran. The fourth woman shouting for the officer to save her, her hysteria made her voice come out as a high-pitched screech. The gunman was directly behind the women, his Uzi coming up.

  Cade sprinted forward, kicking the man’s leg out. The gunman hit the pavement hard, his Uzi sliding across the pavement. Cade dove on top of him, his elbow connecting with the gunman’s solar plexus, knocking the wind—and fight—out of the last of the would be bank robbers.

  The Woodbury officer caught onto the threat and stepped around the women, his gun leveled at Cade. “Don’t move,” he barked. The officer’s darting eyes betraying his nerves.

  Cade, who was sitting on the back of the fallen gunman, held up his hands. “I’m a cop,” he said. “State Patrol. There’s two more inside. Incapacitated.”

  A flurry of activity broke out as three more squads arrived on scene. Officers dragged the gunmen from the credit union’s interior. Rob and Capt. Rejene arrived shortly after, followed by the media.

  Cade found himself surrounded by people with questions. Had he known or even suspected the bank heist was coming and that’s why he was here? No, I was here for a truck loan. Why wouldn’t you get a hybrid vehicle instead of a truck? You can’t be a badass in a hybrid. Did the bad guys recognize him? No. Were you armed? Yes, but I never had a chance to take out my gun. Were you scared? No, just wanted to keep a low profile so no one would be hurt—these guys looked to be amped up on something. Was it dangerous to use your phone to call for backup? Possibly, but given the perpetrator’s agitation, I had to risk it. What made you step up into an obviously deadly situation? They were going to ambush the lone Woodbury officer and I couldn’t let that happen.

  The last question of the day came from the Woodbury police chief. There had always been a friendly rivalry between law enforcement divisions with playful banter being the norm. The chief was no exception to this. “We’d heard you’d been with the BCA previously. Why would you want to be a trooper, anyway? I heard the lobotomy hurts like hell.”

  Cade paused and grinned as he looked directly at the police chief. “Doesn’t hurt nearly as bad as the one you get when you’re promoted.”

  Cade, Rob and Rejene found themselves a coffee shop where they worked through the day’s events. Leaning back in a leather armchair, Cade shook his head. “What a day. Never did get to talk to the loan officer about my truck loan.”

  Rejene leaned forward, speaking quietly. “Something’s come up in Goodwin’s investigation. And it’s not good for the Patrol.”

  Cade moved toward his captain. “Really?”

  Rob nodded. “Really.”

  Rejene folded her hands. “Minutes before Stephanie Harding was killed, she’d been stopped by a Patrol officer. A DUI stop.”

  “Who was it?”

  “Sully. The thing is, Sully’s dashboard cam shows he missed several clues of impairment when Harding performed the walk-and-turn test, including taking the wrong number of steps, pivoting on her right foot instead of her left, and using her arms for balance.” Rejene winced in a my-migraine’s-going-to-make-my-head-explode sort of way. “The video shows a very short skirted Harding getting uncomfortably close to Sully right after she failed the test. And then he let her drive away.”

  Cade shook his head. “And it had to be Goodwin who discovered this.”

  Rejene pinched the bridge of her nose. “I know.”

  “We’re going to take one for not following procedure. Harding would be alive if Sully had followed procedure instead of his hormones. Damn him,” Rejene spat out.

  Cade held Rejene’s brown eyes. “You’re going to have to suspend him. Not that I’m telling you how to do your job, boss. But the public needs to see we’re taking this seriously.”

  “I know. I know.” Rejene rubbed her temples. “This hurts worse than my promotion lobotomy.”

  Cade looked up. “Oh, you heard that.”

  “I did.” Cade noticed Rejene had a hint of a smile for the first time that day.

  The killer turned on the news, starting with the 5 broadcast. The lead story was the Patrol scandal, with Harding’s picture plastered across the screen. The news anchor, John Mason, was reporting, “In a startling development, the BCA’s investigation into the murders of the three Twin Cities women has discovered the State Patrol had stopped victim Stephanie Harding just moments before her untimely death. A routine DUI stop became anything but routine when Harding failed her field sobriety test—yet was allowed to leave the scene.”

  BCA Special Investigator Freddie Goodwin came on screen, his face tanned, his hair perfect. “Trooper John Sullivan stopped Miss Harding due to probable cause of intoxication. Autopsy reports bear this out with a blood alcohol concentration of 0.2 percent, more than twice the legal limit of 0.08 percent.”

  The screen switched to a grainy black-and-white video, with Goodwin’s voice providing the narration. “The troopers own dashboard cam shows Harding taking—and failing—the walk-and-turn test. This is a divided attention test that is easily performed by most unimpaired people. It requires a subject to listen to and follow instructions while performing simple physical movements. Impaired persons have difficulty with tasks requiring their attention to be divided between simple mental and physic
al exercises.”

  On screen, Harding is seen walking and turning along a line, while a trooper stood nearby. “In the walk-and-turn test, the subject is directed to take nine steps, heel-to-toe, along a straight line. After taking the steps, the suspect must turn on one foot and return in the same manner in the opposite direction. The examiner looks for eight indicators of impairment: if the suspect cannot keep balance while listening to the instructions, begins before the instructions are finished, stops while walking to regain balance, does not touch heel-to-toe, steps off the line, uses arms to balance, makes an improper turn, or takes an incorrect number of steps.”

  The video pauses as the camera zooms in on Harding. “Notice how Harding uses her arms for balance. And right here she turns after only eight steps, using the wrong foot. These three indicators should have meant Harding failed the test and led to her arrest for suspicion of DUI.”

  Onscreen, the video resumed showing Harding standing right next to the trooper, clearly comfortable in his space. The video paused with Harding smiling up at the State Patrol officer. “Yet, this is the scene right after Harding should be arrested. Trooper Sullivan allowing an impaired Harding to get back behind the wheel. And moments later, Harding was killed.”

  Goodwin was back on screen staring intently at the camera. Shot from the rear, a reporter asked a final question. “So, what you’re telling us, if the State Patrol had followed their own procedure, Stephanie Harding would still be alive today?”

  Goodwin nodded gravely in a tight close-up. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you. In a major embarrassment to the state of Minnesota, the State Patrol let us all down.”

  The anchor was back on screen. “The fallout from this incident is sure to reach high into state law enforcement circles. The 5 news team will have developments as they come out.”

  Co-anchor Leah McLean: “The day’s other top story also involves the State Patrol, this time with a figure familiar to Twin Cities’ viewers. Reporter Susanna Song has the story.”