Killer in The Woods: A Psychological Thriller

by Flowers, R. Barri

  “Not sure I buy that,” Cramer said, leaning back in his chair. “From what I understand, writers have irregular hours that can’t always be corroborated. If Quinn had something to hide, I doubt he would have voluntarily come in to tell us about the calls, implicating himself in The Woods murders.”

  “Maybe that was his plan to throw us off,” Rawlings suggested. “Quinn Herrera’s name was not on the list he gave us.”

  “Maybe he didn’t feel we’d think it was necessary, all things considered.”

  “Or maybe he was hoping the omission might keep us from digging into his background.”

  “So dig,” Cramer told him. “If Quinn Herrera is hiding something relevant to this investigation, we’ll find it. In the meantime, I have to give him the benefit of the doubt that someone’s trying to falsely incriminate him for reasons that may have nothing to do with the truth.”

  Michel Giovanni came to mind. And Todd Foxworth had not been totally eliminated as a suspect in the murder of Cyndi Gordon. He recalled that Todd and Quinn had discovered, allegedly by chance, the body of Karlene Sullivan in the park. Could either one of them have known exactly where her body was? Or maybe they both did? Perhaps the killer was not one man, but two working in tandem.

  The whole thing sounded a bit farfetched to him. But he couldn’t be sure what or whom they were dealing with. Getting to the bottom of the anonymous caller might shed some light on things, Cramer thought. Either that, or he was just a crackpot leading to another dead end.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  Word somehow mysteriously leaked out from the authorities that Quinn Herrera was a suspect in The Woods Strangler murders. The news spread like wildfire in the community and suddenly Selene and Quinn found themselves on the defensive with friends, neighbors, and even strangers. Even at S.A.W. House, some wondered if Selene could possibly be married to a murderer.

  “This is exactly why I didn’t want to mention the caller to you, Quinn—and especially not to the police,” Selene said ruefully. They were sitting in the living room with the blinds drawn, practically prisoners in their own home.

  “It’s not your fault,” Quinn said. “You couldn’t keep it to yourself—and shouldn’t have. If anyone’s to blame, it’s probably Investigator Rawlings. Wouldn’t put it past him to have made sure the media had a juicy story. He treated me like a suspect the second he arrived in Dennis Cramer’s office.”

  “So what do we do now?” Selene asked. “Sit back with all eyes on us to see when and if they capture the real killer to let you off the hook?”

  “That’s about all we can do right now. I’m not willing to risk your safety just to take the X off my back. This will all blow over soon enough. Meanwhile, we have to be strong so it doesn’t ruin our lives.”

  Selene rested her head on his chest. “Oh, Quinn, I wish I were as calm about it as you are. But I’m scared. People in this town are desperate to find a killer and they seem perfectly willing to go with the flow, even when it makes no sense. First they went after Todd. And now you. Who will be next while the real killer plots his next murder?”

  Quinn put his arm around her. “We’ll get through this, I promise. We’ve both been through some tough times and survived. We won’t succumb to the caller’s lies and scare tactics. People are just scared. But common sense will prevail over paranoia and a rush to judgment. I’m not a criminal and I’m certainly not a killer. We just have to be patient and let the police do their job.”

  Selene took solace in Quinn’s words. She thought about the tragedy of his first wife’s death. He had developed an inner strength under adversity that he could fall back on. Selene supposed that her trials and tribulations with Michel had toughened her more than she realized. But she questioned whether any of that could prepare them for what they were dealing with now.

  She met Quinn’s eyes. “Do you think he’ll call again?”

  “I’m almost sure of it. He wants to terrorize you for his own twisted reasons. The fact that the police are calling his bluff will probably only make him more determined to play this game. He’ll want to keep messing with your head and feeding off your fear like a cocaine addict. Hopefully he’ll make one call too many and the police will catch him and clear me from suspicion—”

  “But what happens if they never get him?”

  “Then they’ll get someone else. If the caller’s not the killer, another man is—and he’ll likely kill again...”

  That was a tradeoff Quinn wanted no part of, but he couldn’t control the outcome of this nightmare. He had tried not to let it show, but he was afraid of what this could mean to them, his writing career, and their life in The Woods.

  In the meantime, there was something he had to do. He could only hope it was the right move.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  The Woods Citizens Against Crime meeting took place on a Saturday afternoon at the Community Center. There was a packed house, eager to hear what Quinn Herrera had to say.

  Selene sat next to Elisa and Marvin. Quinn had shared his feelings with her last night and, though she had argued against it, she knew what he planned to do was best for them and the community.

  She held her breath. Quinn exchanged a few private words with Todd Foxworth, before Todd took a seat next to Julian McKenzie and his wife.

  Quinn paused before addressing his audience. There was no easy way to do this.

  “Glad you could all make it this afternoon on such short notice,” he began. “I’m sure everyone here has heard the rumors and innuendos about me being a suspect in The Woods Strangler investigation. I want to assure you that there is no truth to this allegation...”

  Quinn talked about the anonymous phone calls and their decision to go to the police. Selene tried to gauge the faces of those in attendance as to whether they supported her husband’s presumed innocence or feared him as a possible killer. She saw Robert Leighton sitting smugly in judgment.

  “I’d like to think that you would have done the same thing had you been in our shoes,” Quinn continued. “How this turned into my somehow being a suspect in the killings, I don’t even want to guess.” He paused deliberately. “Because I care so much for this community, I don’t want there to be even a hint of doubt in your minds that I’m the right man to head this group. On that note, until I am fully absolved of any wrongdoing, I have decided to step down as director—”

  There were murmurs throughout the room, followed by questions, which Quinn dutifully answered as candidly as he could.

  “If you don’t have anything to hide, why quit?” Robert Leighton challenged him.

  “Because I don’t want to put my wife through the second-guessing and gossip. It’s not worth it, especially when someone else can take over the job without the excess baggage.”

  “The truth will come out sooner than later,” Robert said.

  “You mean like with you and your wife?” Quinn retorted.

  “That’s between me and her,” Robert said. “This involves all of us.”

  “Beating a woman, even in the privacy of your home, is something that involves the entire community,” Quinn said.

  Robert offered little defense. “I wouldn’t go spouting my mouth off about something I know nothing about, Herrera.”

  “My sentiments precisely,” Quinn said.

  Robert grumbled without further response.

  “I’m not willing to wait until the truth clears me,” Quinn told the group. “Not while speculation hangs over me like a dark cloud.”

  “I hear you,” Marvin said. “You don’t need the hassle. Neither does Selene. That said, I want to go on record as saying that Elisa and I stand behind you one hundred percent.” He rose, as if to make his point. “Anyone who knows you knows that it’s ludicrous to think you could be the killer!”

  “Thanks, Marvin, I appreciate it.”

  “I agree with Marvin,” Elisa said, standing up. “We’ve become close friends with Quinn and Selene over the last few months and they’re go
od people. It’s obvious the caller is just trying to stir up trouble and make us turn against each other. Is that what we really want? I don’t think so.”

  Todd stood. “She’s absolutely right,” he said. “Pointing fingers is the last thing we need. They put me through the same torment of guilty till proven innocent when my girlfriend Cyndi was killed. People still look at me funny, like I’m responsible for her death or the others. The police seem to be grasping at straws by going after innocent men like me and Quinn instead of the real killer.”

  Julian got to his feet in a further show of unity. “We need to stick together, no matter what. This is our community and infighting and paranoia is only going to undermine the efforts to make The Woods a safe place to live again.”

  One by one, people seemed to rally to Quinn’s defense.

  “We think you should stay on as director,” an elderly woman said. “Don’t let anyone or anything drive you away.”

  “Thanks for saying that,” Quinn said. “And thanks to everyone for your support. But I think it’s best all the way around if I vacate the position. To that effect, I’d like to nominate Julian McKenzie as the new director...”

  Julian approached the podium with his wife Loraine. He was a logical choice, especially after Marvin, Elisa, Todd, and others had turned down the job, preferring to keep their contributions to the community on a behind-the-scenes level.

  Julian and Quinn shook hands and then Julian gave his predecessor a bear hug. It didn’t take long for the citizens of The Woods to approve the new director and stand solidly behind the old one, save for a few.

  “We’ve all got your back,” Julian said. “As soon as this thing is over, you can have the job back if you want it—”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Quinn said.

  Right now, he just wanted to focus on the important things: his wife, his writing career, and trying to get his good name back.

  * * *

  Dennis Cramer was impressed with the sense of community he felt at the meeting, in spite of the fact that it was him and his department who were in the hot seat by seemingly going after all the wrong men, while unable to hone in on the real culprit. But Cramer was not about to let his job be dictated by public sentiment.

  He found it hard to believe that Quinn was the man they were looking for. But he had been wrong before. Why couldn’t the killer be someone who seemed above suspicion?

  The department was videotaping the meeting. With any luck, they would find something or someone that hadn’t shown up previously in the investigation that would point them in the right direction.

  Meanwhile, Cramer was hoping the killer had gotten so full of himself that he was bound to make a mistake that would prove to be his last.

  * * *

  He watched with satisfaction as the gathering disbanded like cockroaches scattering when the light was turned on. It had gone pretty much according to plan. The good men and women of The Woods were more confused and apprehensive than ever. He chuckled. The Woods Strangler was alive and well and not done with this community yet.

  Keep them off guard, looking over their shoulders and under their beds, wondering if they’ll be next.

  He left the building calmly.

  Let the anonymous caller play with their heads, pitting neighbor against neighbor.

  Friend against friend.

  Husband against wife.

  Wife against husband.

  Which one of them was greedy enough to do whatever it took to pocket the reward money? That was something the cops would have to find out for themselves.

  They needed no help from him. Not voluntarily anyway.

  For now, he would lay low and let things play out as they were meant to. And when the time came, he’d do what needed to be done.

  He spied a nice looking, leggy redhead eyeing him with a “let’s hook up” look. Very tempting, but not the right time or place.

  He turned his attention elsewhere, focusing on Selene. She was talking almost conspiratorially with Elisa. When he walked up to them, they shut off their conversation and smiled at him. He smiled back and decided to play along just for the fun of it, even while strategizing his next move.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  Ashley Leighton had stayed at the shelter for nearly a week, trying to get herself together, both physically and mentally. Though she’d been assured that Robert had been forced to move out of their home under the watchful eye of police detectives, Ashley wasn’t sure she was ready to move back in. There had been no contact between them since she walked out, and barely any before that. Frankly, she didn’t know if she ever wanted to talk to her husband again, but realized it was inevitable at some point between another court appearance regarding a permanent restraining order and divorce court.

  Leaving S.A.W. House and the wonderful support she had received from Selene Herrera and the rest of the staff, along with other abuse victims, had left Ashley feeling slightly dazed. Yet she had been emboldened by the visits she received from other police personnel, including Dennis Cramer. The message had been the same:

  You’re not alone and you never have to be where it concerns being a victim of domestic violence.

  The sun was shining brightly when she stepped outside, causing her to squint. The swelling in her jaw had gone down and her bruises had started to heal. But Ashley’s spirit was still weak and disillusioned. It was time to face the world again, for better or worse. That included returning to work.

  But first things first.

  Ashley drove home in her BMW, an anniversary gift from Robert two years ago. The sweet gesture now seemed like a distant memory that Ashley wanted to forget, just like every other nice thing Robert had done for her that had masked his dark side.

  When she arrived at her home in The Woods, Ashley was half expecting to see Robert’s car in the driveway. She breathed a sigh of relief when it wasn’t there.

  The house was eerily quiet. Ashley had practically forgotten just how big the place was. And that it had become a prison to her for so long.

  She sat on the bed, welcoming its softness after the hard mattress she’d slept on at the shelter. Closing her eyes for a moment, Ashley tried to imagine her life as a divorced woman. Though only in her mid thirties and not bad looking, she knew it would not be easy going it alone. But what other choice did she have? Her man had beaten the living daylights out of her one time too many. This was where it ended and her new life began.

  When Ashley opened her eyes, she was horrified.

  “Hello, baby,” Robert said calmly. “Welcome home.”

  * * *

  Robert Leighton stood at the foot of their bed. He’d parked his car a safe distance away and waited for his wife to come home. Then he made his way there on foot. He’d resisted the temptation to go and drag her out of that damn shelter where she’d been holed up, knowing that would have been a stupid thing to do.

  Now it was just him and Ashley—like it should be. Robert was certain he could make her listen to reason. If not, he’d make her wish she had.

  “What are you doing here, Robert?” Ashley asked.

  Need you ask? “This is my house,” he said sternly, then added in a sweeter tone, “Our house. I just want to talk to you.”

  “You’re violating the protective order by coming near me.”

  “Forget the damned court order,” Robert spat dismissively. “This is about us, not a piece of paper.”

  He’d invested too much in this marriage to see it end on anything other than on his own terms.

  The sooner Ashley understood that, the better for both of them.

  * * *

  “You hurt me, Robert—hurt me badly,” Ashley blurted out. She watched him warily from the edge of the bed. “I can’t go through this anymore. I shouldn’t have to. You need help. And so do I for putting up with you hitting me anytime your fists needed a punching bag.”

  “I’m sorry that I hurt you, Ashley. I know I messed up, and now I’m paying the price. Ev
eryone knows our business. People who are just looking to stir up trouble or make a name for themselves are branding me an abuser. It’s even starting to affect my law practice.”

  “Well, what did you expect? That we could somehow keep this under the rug forever? I don’t think so. Not anymore—”

  Robert sighed. “Look, I’ll go to therapy this time, I promise—we can go together. You owe it to our marriage to try to work things out.”

  She stood, meeting his eyes. “It can’t work out, Robert. God knows I did everything I could to get you to stop hitting me whenever you felt like it. I even kept it from my colleagues for fear that it would ruin my career and end our marriage. Now I know my career will still be there, but the marriage is over.”

  “Not unless I say it’s over!” Robert approached her, the contours of his face rigid. “And I’m not about to!”

  “Don’t come any closer, Robert.” Ashley backed away. “I mean it!”

  “Or you’ll do what? Go running back to that damned shelter so that bitch Selene can fill your head with more lies?”

  “I’ll have you arrested for violating the court order,” she said, hoping he’d listen to reason. “Don’t make this any worse than it already is.”

  Anger coursed through his veins, though he tried to keep a cool head. “You’re making it worse by turning your back on everything we’ve meant to each other. I just can’t let that happen—”

  Ashley sensed that he would not back down and was about to become violent. Fearing being hurt again, perhaps badly, she tried to make a break for the hallway. She managed to get past him, but not for long. Robert grabbed her from behind, turned her around, and punched her in the nose. She reeled backwards but somehow managed to stay on her feet.

  “See what you made me do,” he grunted. “All I wanted to do was talk about this like adults. But, no, you had to mouth off...letting other people think for you.”