Charity Kills (A David Storm Mystery)

by Jon Bridgewater

  Everyone nodded.

  “This Peggy Wise was one hell of an amateur detective herself. First, I found this picture of her and the very first victim, Elaine Gage.” Storm laid the picture of Peggy and Elaine on the table for all to see. “This time I searched the entire house, even the garbage, but found nothing else.” Then, snap,” and Storm snapped his fingers, “I thought of her car, and sure enough, lying in the back seat was this blue three-ring notebook. Inside this notebook are pictures of all the victims, clippings from the newspapers on all their deaths, personal notes listing what she knew of each girl, and the details of each death. This girl was keeping a diary of sorts on a serial murderer.”

  “She was the killer?” asked Grady, confused. “If she was, why was she killed the same way?”

  “No, but she was one damn fine sleuth. Look at the last pages of the book.” Storm opened it to the last page. Peggy had written the name “Tess Stone.” Beside it her notes read: “From Victoria, Deputy Sheriff, and Houston cop, worked for Show since 1997.” He then flipped back a few pages so they could all see Peggy Wise’s notes:

  ____________________

  What I Know About The 7 Murders

  And What They Have In Common

  3/13/04

  All around same age

  All brunette, slender, cute

  All from small towns

  Not married

  Little or no family

  Some I saw out here in VIP clubs,

  married man hunting grounds

  All volunteers

  All found naked and raped in area of Dome

  All were killed near same time of year,

  only one killed later in Show season.

  Doesn’t appear they fought the killer,

  not beaten or cut up,

  just their throats cut.

  Some clothing found, but no shoes.

  All died on weekend night

  All killings are the same,

  but disposed of in different ways

  ____________________

  Ideas I Have

  Same killer,

  my cop friends think I am crazy.

  Didn’t fight so had to know killer,

  or have been knocked out with drugs,

  or passed out.

  Killer lives out here during Show,

  knows his or her way around or involved here.

  How did they meet the killer?

  Committeeman, staff or worker or big dog?

  A detective is here now.

  Am following him see what he knows.

  Maybe someone finally cares....

  ____________________

  Tess Stone

  I found the killer

  Show records list police officer

  working the door at VIP room in Stadium.

  Worked here for seven years;

  always worked security at door.

  The same blonde woman

  I saw at Elaine’s funeral

  She is also the woman who lived with a girl in Victoria when the girl disappeared 9 years ago. Her name was Gail Ponder. She disappeared from a trip to beach, never seen again. Tess was Deputy County Sheriff at the time. Rumor always had it that she knew something, but no one ever proved if she did or not

  Left Victoria after that.

  Now I know where she went.

  Got to get a hold of detective tomorrow and tell him.

  ____________________

  Everyone leaned over and read until Alisha spoke. “The blue thread found under Peggy’s nail matches the thread used in a HPD uniform shirt. I was waiting for the definitive reading on the match and it came back this morning. So, we know now it was a female and a cop, or at least someone wearing a cop’s shirt that killed Peggy.”

  Russell reached for the picture of Peggy’s body encircled in the pool of her own blood, “Now I see it, look.” He traced the letters in the crime scene photo. “She was trying to spell COP, she was trying to tell you it was a cop who killed her.” It was instant recognition from everyone—they could all see the letters now.

  “Hernandez, can you get into personnel records of Houston cops working patrol now?” asked Storm.

  “Yes, I can.” Pancho looked at Russell and pulled his laptop from the case and laid it on the table, booting it up so he could access the wireless network operating in Russell’s building.

  “Russell, while Pancho is looking up this Tess Stone in HPD’s database can someone use your computer to go on the Internet? If you Google someone’s name you can find anything ever written or published about them, right?” Storm questioned.

  “Yeah, not everything, but most things. Why?” asked Russell.

  “In the diary she mentions the disappearance of a girl in Victoria nine years ago. Do you think we can find anything about that?”

  “Probably, or if not, we can go to the Victoria paper site and look for old articles about a girl disappearing,” suggested Grady.

  While Grady and Hernandez used the computers, Russell asked his friend, “So how did the meeting go with Houston’s finest example of the Peter Principle?”

  “Yeah, what did Flynn want to know?” asked Alisha.

  He told them about how his report had caused the color to drain out of both Lieutenant Flynn’s and Nagel’s faces. “They’re circling the wagons—and by ‘they’ I mean all of them, the police chief, the city, and the Show. They’re getting ready to fend off the wolves crying for blood when this story breaks.”

  “Got her!” yelled Hernandez. “Tess Stone has been a Houston cop since 1997. She’s assigned to Hebert on the south side of town.” The fact she worked for Hebert came as a surprise to everyone, because, as Hernandez pointed out, “Hebert’s not known for his ability to work with the opposite sex.” The whole department knew Hebert was the supervisor least likely to have a female patrol officer, yet here she was, reporting to him.

  Within a few minutes Grady had her, too. “There is a story in the Victoria Advocate about a girl who went missing in 1997 from the home she shared with her girlfriend, a Miss Shannon Teresa “Tess” Stone. It says the girl went missing the Fourth of July weekend and had not been seen since. There was some suspicion the girlfriend might know of her whereabouts or had something to do with her disappearance, but nothing had ever been uncovered. It also says the girlfriend was a Victoria County deputy sheriff. It goes on to say that the victim was last seen going on a boating and beach trip to Port Aransas, but she never arrived to meet her friends. Later, in another article, it says that search had been suspended but all hope for solving the case was not given up.”

  It was then, as everyone crowded around the computer, that the picture of Tess Stone and her roommate came up on the screen.

  The roommate was a cute dark-haired girl. “Oh my god, she looks like Leslie Phillips,” Alisha whispered.

  Storm felt his knees buckle and he almost fell over. Tess Stone was the cop working the door of the VIP room the night Storm and Russell went to the Rodeo. Staring at the picture on the screen, all Storm could say was, “Oh, shit.”

  He pointed to the screen. “Russell, this is one of the cops I talked to the other night when we brought all hell down on Joe Dresden. She was working the door of the VIP room. She said she had seen Leslie before—saw her come in with Joe—but didn’t see her leave. People, we know Peggy was killed by a woman, we know she had a thread from a cop’s shirt under her nails, and now we have a female cop, who was suspected in her lesbian girlfriend’s disappearance, working the door of the VIP room at the Show on the night of at least one of the murders, for sure. I don’t think it takes much of a leap of faith to begin to see the “how” to the pattern of all the murders, including Peggy’s,” Storm said.

  “She is a person of authority, she is a cop, so trusted, and since she worked the door they would have recognized her and been comfortable with her. Her training fits the modus operandi and now we’ve found a link to the disappearance of a girl who fits the common physical character
istics of the murdered girls,” added Hernandez.

  “OK, y’all, as bad as I hate to say this, I need to go see Hebert and see what he knows about Tess Stone. Hernandez, you are going with me. Russell, we need to go in under the radar so you’ve got to help us get in. Over half of Hebert’s people work overtime at the Show, so it’s pretty solid she will be there. Hernandez, go change your clothes. Try to look less like a cop and more like a cowboy going to the Show and meet me back here by 5:00. Grady, you and Alisha have to sit this one out; no way I am taking any chances on getting you involved in something that could go south in a hurry, ” said Storm.

  Both Alisha and Grady nodded. They argued the decision, but finally agreed they would wait in the courtyard outside the center near the food tents.

  Russell parked in his normal parking spot close to the center and stadium; after all, he did have perks. The three of them, Russell, Hernandez, and Storm, walked to the entrance to the chutes, flashing credentials and badges as they walked by the cops and security guards who were working the massive garage door that opened the way to the bowels of the stadium. Grady and Alisha took a park bench across from the massive doors, sat down, and began to watch as if they might be able to see anything. When Storm and his posse got near Hebert’s office, next to the football team’s workout room, Storm told Russell to wait outside; he and Hernandez would go see Hebert alone.

  “Well, Office Boy, what are you doing here again? I hear you got a killer,” said Hebert.

  “Sergeant, I want to ask you some questions. Don’t get froggy with me and don’t you dare lie. This is serious and I don’t want any shit,” said Storm.

  Storm took out a piece of paper with Tess’s name written on it and looking straight at Hebert, asked him if he had an officer named Shannon Teresa Stone working at the stadium. Hebert began to fidget in his chair, clearly uncomfortable, unable to look back at Storm, instead staring at the floor as if deaf and dumb. The alarm in his eyes and face gave him away.

  “Bullshit, Hebert, I know she works for you on the south side. Is she here?” The tone of Storm’s voice and the way he leaned across the desk displayed his intent. He was not above pulling the old son of a bitch across the desk.

  Hernandez stood by the door, assuring nobody would be interrupting them now.

  “Yes, why?” was all Hebert could say.

  “I believe she is our killer,” said Storm, calming just a little, but still leaning over the desk.

  “Bullshit, you are just trying to find a goat. I heard about your serial murder theory and I think you are full of shit!” yelled Hebert. The cop looked like someone had kicked him in the balls. Storm could almost read his thoughts: This drunk has to be wrong. I personally took Tess under my wing when she came to work for HPD.

  “You can think what you want. I don’t give a shit. Is she here?” asked Storm, lowering his volume as he let his quiet voice kick in.

  “Yes. She works the door of the VIP room on the ninth level. You can’t tell me you believe she killed anyone. She’s a fellow cop.” Hebert was becoming more irate by the second.

  “We are about to find out. We have DNA from the last killing, the young lady who worked for the Show, and we found a notebook from her home that implicated Shannon Teresa Stone in her murder and those of the other seven girls in Houston, not to mention a girl in Victoria. All I want is a DNA test done to get her cleared of any suspicion. The M.E. is waiting for a sample that will clear her of any wrong-doing. Now that’s not too much to ask for, is it? You do want her cleared, don’t you?” Storm paused to let that sink in.

  There was no reaction from Hebert, his face still blank of expression. Storm moved on.

  “The ninth level is empty now, isn’t it?” Storm asked.

  “Yes, except for the people working there and for security,” responded Hebert in a voice barely audible.

  “Will she be there?” asked Storm.

  “Yes, she should be. They’re due on at 5:00 PM.”

  “Sergeant Hernandez and I are going up there. We will ask her for a DNA sample and we’ll be out of your hair. If you call her and warn her before I can get there I am coming back down and I will personally jump down your throat. Then I will arrest you for tampering with a homicide investigation. You got that?” Storm couldn’t believe how calm he was. He willed himself to slow down; he knew being too excited could lead to mistakes and now was not the time for errors in judgment.

  With that, Storm and Hernandez left Hebert’s office and headed back down the hall to get Russell and go to the ninth level. When they got off the elevator they told Russell to hang back and wait. As they approached the entry to the club, Storm motioned to Hernandez. “Move to my left and back me up,” he mouthed. Hernandez nodded affirmatively.

  Officer Stone was standing at the front door when she saw Storm coming. She turned and told him the club was not open yet and he would have to wait. She added, “Do you have credentials to get into this club?”

  Storm calmly pulled his badge and explained to her he was there on official business. “There’s been a break in the Leslie Phillips case and I need to ask you some more questions about the night you saw her in the club and get some details straight about her murder. Officer Stone, of course you are up to speed on the two murders that have occurred in the last week, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, terrible, isn’t it? The girl you showed me the other night and now the girl from the Show offices.”

  “Yes, it is. The last victim, Peggy Wise was her name by the way, left some very damning evidence.”

  “Oh, really?” replied Tess Stone.

  She’s starting to look nervous. I wonder if Pancho notices the way her eyes are darting back and forth. Hope so. Looks like she’s looking for a way to escape. “Yes. But first, how did you get those scratches on your neck?” Storm asked, pointing to the area where he had already noticed some marks and waiting to hear how she would explain them.

  “Fought with a drunk in here last night. Why?” Officer Stone said, putting up her hand over the scratches.

  “Just an observance, Officer Stone,” added Storm.

  “I am sure you didn’t come here to ask about my well-being, Detective, so what can I do for you?”

  Storm looked over at Hernandez. He wanted to say, “Do you see the urge to flee building throughout her body as much as I do?” But he didn’t have to. Hernandez’s face betrayed no emotion but Storm noted that his hand was near his weapon and his stance telegraphed “ready.”

  “I need a DNA sample from you, Officer Stone, because, you see, Peggy scratched her killer and traces of skin from what the M.E.’s DNA tests indicate was from a female, traces we believe came from her killer, were found under her fingernails. Add to that, we have a blue thread that matches the fabric used in HPD uniforms.” Storm pulled a DNA swab from his jacket.

  Trained police officer Tess Stone began to back away.

  “Officer Stone, don’t do this, don’t make me come after you.” Stone spoke softly, encouragingly. “It is your choice but you can clear this up right now and right here. Let us have the M.E. come up to administer the test and eliminate yourself as a suspect.”

  Tess made another step back, further away from them and closer to the door.

  “Officer Stone, please stop! It’s just a test. We need to eliminate you as a possible suspect.” Storm’s tone was quiet, again trying to calm Tess so the situation would not become any more volatile.

  As Tess continued to back away, her hand fell to her side as if to unsnap her gun holster. Storm didn’t move—he barely breathed. He noticed Hernandez’s body language—he was on high alert, gun within a second’s reach. He knew now she was desperate, and God knows what she would do if pushed.

  “Officer, stop. Please. Let us help you. This is not the way for this to end. Did you love Peggy? Was it a love gone wrong? You can talk to me,” Storm assured her. Even as he tried to stay one step ahead of her, he had no real proof yet there was any involvement between Ms. Wise an
d Tess. Maybe talking about Peggy will calm her so she’ll say something concrete we can use as cause to take her in, he hoped.

  In mere seconds Tess’s actions seemed to become animal-like, feral. Like a cornered wild hog, her instincts seemed to take hold as she looked around for a means of escape, but with Hernandez now behind her and Storm in front, there was nowhere to go.

  Then her demeanor changed once more. A serene expression eclipsed her face, as if in her mind the only and perfect way out had just dawned on her. She unsnapped her gun holster, put the palm of her hand on her 9 millimeter, and smiling like the Madonna, she began to pull the weapon.

  Before Storm could react, a shot rang out of nowhere. He spun around, expecting to see Hernandez with his gun drawn and discharged; instead, he saw Hebert holding his service revolver at arm’s length, smoke still escaping the barrel.

  * * * *

  Hebert stood there horrified. He had been a cop for thirty years and had never had to shoot a living creature, let alone a human being. Now Tess, his protégé, had pushed for this end, the act that was known as “suicide by cop,” a last ditch effort to escape a bad situation, and he had been the one to shoot one of his own.

  During Storm’s confrontation with Tess, Hebert had snuck up a back elevator to get to the VIP room, hoping against hope Storm was wrong. When Tess had come to Houston and applied for a job with HPD, Hebert had been the one to vouch for her. It had been obvious early to him Tess floated her boat in a direction that was not generally accepted for police work, but Hebert also knew many of the department’s female officers’ sexual orientation wasn’t the norm. His own niece was a lesbian and he had seen the torment her lifestyle had caused her, but that didn’t mean Tess’s relationships away from work needed to be a problem as long as she kept her nose clean. Tess had proven to be a good addition, street smart, get-your-hands-dirty type of cop and she didn’t flaunt her personal lifestyle. He had added her to his cadre of officers working the Show as a reward for doing a good job and he knew she could use the easy money.