by Vakey, Jenn
He seemed to be considering the possibilities, but after a few short seconds his expression came alive. “There was another victim,” he seemed to be thinking aloud. “You said that they had cadaver dogs out in the area Christopher was discovered, but there was no sign of another body. Maybe he brought her down here.”
“That’s a long way to travel with a body,” she said. “I don’t know if he would have wanted to take such a big risk.”
“He was an officer, though,” he said. “Even if he had been pulled over, what are the chances that someone would request to search his vehicle?”
“True,” she mumbled. “But the other victim was killed nearly two weeks before Christopher. There’s no way he would still have had the trace on him after two weeks if he had brought her out here to bury her. I guess he could have gotten spooked and moved her, but that would have been very risky.”
“They were having an affair,” Ben blurted out. “He must have cared for her deeply if it resulted in him killing her, as sick as that sounds. He could have brought her straight out here after killing her, then came back either out of remorse or just for a reminder of what he’d done.”
Rilynne smiled across the table at him. “Now you’re just showing off,” she said playfully. Since shortly after meeting Ben, she had been telling him that he would make a good detective and it was for reasons like this. He thought beyond just scientific facts and was good at looking for the reasons why people behaved the way they did.
He grinned in an almost prideful way at her complement.
“We can talk to the detective about it tomorrow and see if they can get cadaver dogs out to search the areas where Penland beardtongue grows,” she said. Even as she said it, she hoped that it wasn’t true. If he had buried her body in Brooks Hollow, chances are he wouldn’t have wanted to stick around.
“What else is there?” he asked, not seeming to share her anxiety. “What do you know about Mifflin that would help to build a profile on him?”
“Let’s see,” she said, thinking back to the time she had spent with him. “He was always a bit of a drinker. It was never to the point of him having a problem, but he sure liked his whiskey.”
“Okay, what else?”
“He was a vegetarian,” she said. “He also was a golf fanatic. He played at least four times a week when the weather permitted or when we weren’t bogged down with a case.”
He nodded along with her.
“He also had a pretty distinctive scar on his right cheek.”
“So he’s a drinker, plays golf, eats a strict diet, and has a scar that people will recognize. That gives us a few places to start looking,” he replied.
The waitress seemed to bounce as she made her way back to the table to deliver their food. They waited until she was out of earshot before continuing, not wanting to risk word getting out around town as to why they were there.
“You didn’t have to come out here, you know,” she said as she picked up her burger. She dipped it into the small bowl of ranch dressing the waitress had set next to her plate and took a big bite. To her surprise, it was one of the better burgers she had ever had. Where a lot of places tend to serve their patties on the dryer side, this one was moist and perfectly seasoned. After each bite, her hands were left covered in its juices.
He looked up from his plate, studying her face carefully. After a few short moments, he looked back down and reached for his fork. “I know.”
Rilynne felt her cheeks burning as she grinned and plucked a shoestring fry from the basket.
Despite being a little before nine when they walked back to the bed and breakfast, Rilynne was struggling just to keep her eyes open. Ben appeared to be in a similar state. They walked quietly up the stairs and down the hall, Ben stopping at the door catty-corner from hers. After quickly saying goodnight, Rilynne closed the door behind her. With the heater turned off, the room was significantly cooler than when she had left. She changed into her pajamas and climbed into bed, pulling the thick comforter up around her. She took in a deep breath, the chilled air stretching into her lungs, and drifted quickly into a deep sleep.
Rilynne walked out of her room and down the empty stairs, not seeing anyone around. When she stepped out the front door of the bed and breakfast, she found herself back in Addison Valley, the police station in front of her.
“Everyone has been waiting on you,” Lori said, walking up behind her. Without another word, she walked up the steps and through the doors.
Rilynne looked up and down the street before following her in. Other than the officer sitting at the front desk, she didn’t see anyone else in the building. She walked silently back toward the elevators, a sense of anxiety building with every step. It wasn’t until the elevator doors opened on the third floor that she heard voices floating toward her.
The detectives’ office itself was empty, but she could see movement coming from the open conference room door. She placed her purse down on her desk, which sat just inside the door, and walked through the room. When she reached the conference room, she let out an involuntary gasp. Every seat at the large table, twice the size she remembered it, was filled except for one. There were also several people standing around the walls.
“It’s about time, Evans,” Detective Wilcome said as he rose from his seat. To his right, Chief Wooldridge nodded. “Take a seat so we can get started.”
Rilynne stood at the doorway for a moment, her eyes sweeping through the room. Every member of the Addison Valley homicide office was present, even several members who had been transferred out after the Pirate Killer case was closed. They had also been joined by the members of the Bodker office, including someone she hadn’t expected.
“What the hell is he doing here?” she asked abruptly. She made a movement toward him, but her path was blocked.
All eyes turned to her instead of Mifflin, who was seated at the opposite end of the table.
“Sit down, Rye,” she heard a familiar voice to her left. She turned to find Lori leaning up against the wall behind her, arms folded across her chest. “You look tired. Let’s get this meeting over with and you get the rest you desperately need.”
She looked at her dumbfoundedly, then back around the room. She didn’t understand why everyone seemed so relaxed, and why no one seemed the least bit bothered by the fact that Mifflin was sitting, unrestrained, in the room.
Before she could voice her concerns again, someone took her by the arm and directed her to the open seat directly in front of her. She was about to pull away when she looked up to find Sheriff Stigent.
“It’s all right,” he said. “We know exactly what happened now. Just sit down and we’ll get everything taken care of.” Despite his reassuring tone, the look on his face was something closer to sorrow.
After being lowered into the seat, her eyes darted around the room. She looked from face to face, and saw the same thing on each: concern.
Chief Wooldridge stood up and said, “Everyone here knows the situation at hand, and we’re here to try and find the best solution. Because this hits so close to home, we want to make sure it’s handled delicately so we have the best chance for a fair outcome. Does anyone have any questions before we begin?”
“I do,” Rilynne spoke up. “Why are you concerned with the delicacy of the situation? It seems rather cut and dry to me. Mifflin betrayed us, he betrayed me. He took the lives of at least two people, and should face the full force of the law. Being part of the department shouldn’t allow him any special treatment. If anything, he should face harsher consequences. He swore to protect, and he didn’t.”
The room was suddenly filled with a buzz of chatter. She looked around for any hint of support, but was met with only more apprehension and sorrow.
“It’s clear, isn’t it?” Mifflin spoke up. “We had hoped that having everyone here would help to snap the situation back to reality, but it doesn’t appear to. If anything, it’s only worsening the issue. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again.
We need to confront the problem head on. The truth is the only thing that’ll help.”
Rilynne was confused. She looked around again and saw that Mifflin’s statement had left many nodding and speaking out in agreement. She turned around toward Lori, who was now standing next to Sheriff Stigent, in hopes that someone would explain what was happening.
“He’s right,” Lori said, meeting her gaze before shifting away. “It’ll probably be best coming from you, though.”
Rilynne followed her line of sight as it moved across the room and found her mother standing in the corner. Her eyes were red and swollen. She’d been crying.
“Mom?” Rilynne asked. “What’s everyone talking about? Why’s everyone here?”
“Sweetheart,” she said, stepping toward the table. The room fell silent. “Rilynne, we’re all here to help you.” She could hear the tears in her voice. Rilynne looked quickly around the table again before returning her gaze to her mother. “I had been seeing the signs for years-since you were a child-but I’d hoped that it was nothing more than an overactive imagination. Nineteen months ago, you had been working on a case about a murdered woman, and I guess it just set something off inside of you. It was probably due to your failure to find anything useful. After that, you just seemed to change. Then two weeks later, Christopher was killed.”
“After that, you were a different person entirely. You were withdrawn and wouldn’t talk to any of us. When Mifflin left, you just seemed to lose it. You were obsessed with finding him. When you informed me about you intentions to transfer, I had hoped that it would be good for you,” Wooldridge stated.
“I had no idea what had been going on when I hired you,” Wilcome jumped in. “Being away from everything must have stabilized you, and you returned back to a relatively normal life. That is until you were called back to Bodker when they found Christopher’s body.”
“After that you seemed to enter back into your previous state. Then when no evidence was found, you created some just to give yourself somewhere to look,” Lori said.
She looked around the room, but if she was searching for reassurance, she didn’t get it. Instead, people were looking down to avoid her gaze, or giving her hateful looks.
“We found evidence and it led me to Brooks Hollow,” she said defensively. “Ben told me the trace he found could have come from there. We were in the middle of investigating it when you called me here for this meeting. Just ask him.”
Again, the room was filled with a burst of chatter. This time, there was a stronger note of anger than before.
“Ben informed me that you called him to say you were taking a detour to Brooks Hollow. He was concerned, so he flew up to meet you. A few days later, the owner of the bed and breakfast walked into the room after he failed to pay for the day. This is what she found.” Wilcome slid a stack a photos down the table toward her.
The room in the pictures was identical to the room she had been staying in at the bed and breakfast. The only difference was the color; everything was red. She looked closer and found that the entire room had been soaked in blood.
“What the hell is going on here!” she yelled as she pushed the chair away from the table. “Are you behind this?” she turned toward Mifflin. “It wasn’t enough for you to kill your own girlfriend, but you have to start coming after me. What did I ever do to make you want to take everyone from me that I care about? It took me so long to even reach the place where I could think about dating again, then you murdered him, too. I’ll make you pay for this you bastard!”
“You see what I’ve been saying,” Mifflin said loudly as he stood up. “We need to put her away for our safety as much as hers. She’s already killed two people just to support her delusion. We have to stop her before anyone else is harmed.”
There was a mumble of agreement around the room. Rilynne felt a surge of panic as she threw her chair back and rushed out of the room before anyone could stop her.
When she stepped through the doorway, she found her path blocked by a large, frosted tree. She pushed past it and ran as fast as she could down the snow-covered hill.
“You’ll never change their minds now,” Mifflin yelled out from behind her. “Who’s ever going to take your word over mine. You are crazy, after all. The moment I tell them all about your so-called visions, it’ll be you they go after. I was just running for my life. You killed Christopher and accused me. You told me at the hospital that you were going to kill me, so I ran. No one would blame me for a second.”
Rilynne screamed out of frustration, but didn’t stop running. “How could you do this? Why didn’t you just run? Why did you have to come after me?” she rattled off the questions, not waiting for answers. She had been asking the same question for nineteen months. However, now there was a new one. “Why Ben? He didn’t have anything to do with you; he was no risk to you.”
“I couldn’t let you get close without stopping you,” he said with a note of laugher.
As she ran, it felt like the flesh was being torn from her bare feet. It was the pain in her chest that nearly knocked her over, though. The thought of everyone now chasing her was nothing compared to what she had lost. First Christopher, now Ben.
Another large tree came straight at her, so she spun to the right to avoid it. As she did, she felt a sudden pain spread through her left side.
When she opened her eyes, it took several minutes to realize where she was. She lay on the floor in her room for several minutes-her heart pounding in her chest as the tears soaked her face-before she pulled herself back up on the bed.
“Only a dream,” she said aloud to herself. “It was only a dream.”
She fought the urge to walk across the hall and check on Ben, knowing he was surely sound asleep by now. She also knew how it would look if she were to knock on his door in the middle of the night. Instead, she lay down in the middle of the bed, listening to her heart thumping in her ears. “Only a dream,” she said again to herself. She repeated it several times until she drifted back to sleep.
Chapter Seven
“You’re back!” Nick seemed to be almost unable to contain his excitement when they walked into the station the next morning. “Did you find the fugitive? Is he really here in our town? Dad says I can’t tell any of the guys until your investigation is over, but they’re going to flip when they hear. Who’s this guy?” he asked, motioning toward Ben.
“This is Ben Davis. He’s come up from Addison Valley to help with the investigation any way that he can,” she explained. “Your father asked me to come back in this morning to speak with your detective. Is he available?”
“Yeah, he just got in. I’ll go get him for you,” he said as he jumped up from his seat.
“He’s an energetic little thing,” Ben said as they watched him rush to the second door on the back wall, next to the door leading into Sheriff Stigent’s office. After quickly rapping on the door, he pushed it open and entered. “Looks young too; shouldn’t he be in school?”
“I imagine he’s on a work program,” she replied. “I only had to go to school for one class a day my senior year. It was nice getting out around nine-thirty every morning.”
“I bet. I think I got out just after three. Then I spent at least two hours a day doing my community service. Add that to my after school job, and I was left with very little free time.”
Ben had caught the father of a fellow student attempting to take advantage of his girl friend as she lay passed out in his yard after a party. Instead of filing a report with the police, which would have meant telling his girl friend what had almost happened, he took matters into his own hands and vandalized the man’s house.
In lieu of jail time, he was sentenced with community service, which he completed at Addison Valley Hospital. It was his time there that motivated him to make something of himself and go to college.
Nick emerged seconds later followed by a man who was just over a head taller than him, which said a lot, because Nick had to be just a few inches shy
of six-feet. Instead of a uniform, he was wearing an olive green tee shirt and jeans. Unlike his clean-shaven colleagues, it looked like it had been several days since his last shave. The look wasn’t a bad one for his handsome face, though, nor was the untidy look of his short, light brown hair.
“I’m Detective Korey Byman,” he said as they stood up to meet him. “Sheriff Stigent told me to be expecting you this morning, but I’m afraid he didn’t give me much information as to why. Please come on back,” he motioned toward the door he had just exited.
The office was smaller than that of the sheriff, but only just. Both the right and left walls were lined in filing cabinets, leaving just enough room for a desk in the middle.
“Have a seat,” he said as he walked around and took his seat. “It’s Detective Evans, correct?”
“That’s right,” she replied. “And this is Ben Davis.”
“It’s nice to meet both of you,” he said as he extended his hand. “What is it that I can help you with?”
“We believe this man-” she slid the photograph across the desk, “-was here around nineteen months ago. He’s responsible for killing at least two people in Bodker, Wisconsin, and we’re hoping that someone in the area might know where he could be hiding out.”
He examined the photo carefully before looking back at Rilynne. “Sheriff Stigent said that you were from Texas,” he said curiously. “Why are you interested in a case from Wisconsin?”
She could see Ben tense up from the corner of her eye, but continued without acknowledging it. “I won’t lie,” she replied, “This case is very personal for me. The second victim was my husband, and this man was my partner. My husband’s body was found this week, and Ben discovered trace that led us here.”
“Okay,” he said smoothly as he dropped his elbows down on the desk. “Fill me in.”
Rilynne spent the next hour going over every detail of the case, from the first victim to the evidence recovered from Christopher’s body.