Selene shared those sentiments. It was clear that Michel had become unhinged and may have gone to any lengths to try and get them back together. Including murder. Yet, in spite of the evidence to the contrary, she still had her reservations that Michel was The Woods Strangler.
Right now, Selene just wanted to get to know her husband all over again and rebuild the trust between them that had been damaged by miscommunication, outside negative forces, death, and mild hysteria.
She kissed Quinn softly on the lips and smiled. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. And I always will.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
Ashley Leighton was only too happy to be back on the job. She was serious about her goal to someday make detective rank. She was thankful to have survived the tumultuous years with Robert in one piece and that he had also pulled through his brush with death. She hoped he would own up to the pain he’d caused her and get the help he needed to deal with his issues of anger, power, and insecurity.
It had really thrown Ashley for a loop that Robert had set fire to S.A.W. House. Luckily, no one had been hurt. Robert had admitted to the crime and hoped to plea bargain his way out of it and somehow salvage his life and reputation.
But there had been far too much pain between them to ever get back together as husband and wife. Ashley suspected he was beginning to come to terms with that, no matter how difficult it was for him to accept.
She had gotten right back into her work, barely missing a beat after her self-imposed sabbatical and a mandatory internal affairs investigation following the shooting of her husband. She had been part of the team that discovered Michel Giovanni’s body in the motel room, seemingly wrapping up more than one investigation in the process.
Now she was determined to show the department that her personal problems did not affect her ability as a police officer.
Ashley made her way to Detective Dennis Cramer’s office. She knocked once on the open door, and saw that he was on the phone.
Cramer waved Ashley in. She was relieved that he had gone out of his way to welcome her back to the job and offer any help he could give, as had many of her co-workers. Now she hoped to give something back.
Ashley walked up to his desk, holding a folder.
Cramer cut short his conversation and looked up at her with mild concern. “Leighton. Everything okay?”
“Fine, Sir.”
“So how can I help you?”
Ashley could barely contain her enthusiasm. She had discovered some vital information she felt might reopen a case that had been officially closed. “I have something here that I think you ought to see—”
“Yeah...” Cramer watched as Ashley opened the folder and removed a couple of printouts, passing one across the desk. “What’s this?” he asked before looking.
“A partial thumbprint found in the apartment of Lynda Franklin that was accidentally misplaced,” Ashley told him. “When I found it, I ran it through the computer. It matched a print we lifted from Giovanni’s motel room. Apparently the investigators failed to follow up on it, with all the evidence pointing towards Giovanni...”
Ashley paused before delivering the punch line that she was sure would be a knockout blow.
“Both prints belong to one Eric Tyler,” she said. “Thirteen years ago Tyler served time in Nevada for the attempted strangulation of a woman he’d been stalking. And now his prints have been found in two places connected to our case, which causes one to raise an eyebrow.”
“Are you suggesting that Tyler was Giovanni’s partner?” Cramer asked.
“No,” Ashley said quickly. “I cross checked Tyler’s fingerprints and discovered that he’s been using an alias for over a decade, which is probably why he didn’t show up in our criminal investigations of The Woods residents. Along with the fact that he’s stayed under the radar in his new life.” She handed Cramer the other printout. “Mr. Tyler calls himself Julian McKenzie. He’s a local firefighter and—”
“I know McKenzie,” Cramer said. He looked at the mug shot and his record for a minor offense. “He lives down the street from me—”
Ashley wasn’t done yet. “Sir, I think there’s a good chance Michel Giovanni was setup up by McKenzie for The Woods murders. And even Giovanni’s so-called suicide has to be called into question now.”
Cramer stood up and muttered an expletive. “How the hell did we miss this?”
“You weren’t looking for it, Sir.”
“But we should have been,” he said. “You might be onto something here, Leighton. And I emphasize might.”
“I understand,” Ashley said, trying to keep from smiling.
“I need you to make some calls for me,” Cramer said, and gave her the names of who to call.
“I’ll get right on it.”
Cramer nodded. “In the meantime, I’m going to run this by Rawlings and the chief. And I’ll also be paying Julian McKenzie a little visit—”
“I’m sure he won’t be expecting it,” Ashley said.
“You did real good, Leighton,” Cramer told her. “Maybe too damned good.”
Ashley couldn’t resist a smile. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, Sir.”
Ashley had a feeling this case was about to break wide open, thanks to her efforts. She was happy to once again contribute to a job she loved.
* * *
Dennis Cramer could scarcely believe that what had seemed like an over-and-done-with investigation had suddenly been given new life. And a potentially explosive one at that. The task force had already been disassembled and detectives assigned to new cases. If there was even a slight chance that Michel Giovanni was not the killer, it was up to Cramer to go after viable alternatives.
And Eric Tyler, aka Julian McKenzie, seemed to fit the bill to perfection.
Cramer was en route to the fire station, where the suspect was said to have been. McKenzie had been more or less cleared in their earlier attempts to weed out the suspects living in The Woods. Without knowing about his criminal background as Eric Tyler, only a minor infraction for violating a local ordinance had appeared under Julian McKenzie’s name in criminal records.
He had us all completely fooled. Cramer had believed that McKenzie—a church-going husband, father, and firefighter—hardly fit the bill of a cold-blooded serial killer, especially when the tracks always pointed in another direction. He held out hope that McKenzie could somehow explain his way out of this, but he wasn’t feeling very optimistic about it.
Cramer arrived at the fire station. Geoffrey Rawlings was meeting him there, along with backup officers in case the suspect resisted arrest. In the interim, search warrants had already been issued for Julian McKenzie’s residence and vehicle.
“You really think this guy is that clever to have planted the evidence on Giovanni, making him out to be a serial killer who then takes his life?” Rawlings shot Cramer a look of skepticism as they headed on foot past a newly washed fire truck.
“All I know is he isn’t who he says he is,” Cramer said sourly. “I also know McKenzie was in places he shouldn’t have been, and never bothered to tell us. And he’s also served time for attempting to strangle a woman. In my book, that’s more than enough reason to bring him in.”
“Yeah, I suppose.”
“If this is all some big misunderstanding, I’m sure McKenzie will clear it up for us. But I doubt it. My gut instinct tells me he’s bad news—and it could get much worse unless we catch up to him before he’s onto us.”
They went inside and were greeted by the fire chief, Larry Weaver.
“Julian’s shift isn’t for another couple of hours,” Larry said. “What do the police want with him?”
“We just need to ask him some questions,” Cramer said nonchalantly. No reason to create a buzz yet.
“About what?”
“Let’s just leave it at that,” Rawlings said tersely.
Cramer had another thought. “Has McKenzie’s work record been pretty steady? Regular hours
?”
“There’s no such thing as regular hours for a firefighter,” Larry said. “Much like with you guys. We work all hours as needed. But McKenzie’s been fairly dependable on the job, if that’s what you’re asking, except when he takes time off for church-related activities. Or when his wife or one of the kids is sick.”
Cramer handed the fire chief the search warrant, allowing them to go through McKenzie’s locker and any personal effects they could find that could be used as evidence against him.
A little later, detectives who were at the suspect’s house informed Cramer that Julian McKenzie was nowhere to be found. They put out an APB for his arrest as a person of interest.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
He waited patiently behind the thick cluster of trees that practically secluded the cul-de-sac from the outside world. It was twilight on a cool day and he pulled the jacket closer to his body. He had moved to the spot gingerly.
He glanced at Marvin and Elisa Bonet’s house. He had it on good authority that the Bonets were out for dinner and planned a movie afterwards in celebration as expectant parents. Now he honed in on the home of the Herreras. He expected Quinn Herrera to come jogging out of the house any moment now, having studied his routine.
That would leave his wife alone.
He’d always had a soft spot for Selene Herrera. The attractive Latina was too hard to resist going after with the same hunger that had propelled him to kill the other sweet looking women.
And Quinn would be blamed for it, now that the reporter had broken the news of his past misfortunes involving his last wife, which he’d gotten straight from the horse’s mouth. It had been one of those days when Quinn needed to unload and he was only too happy to be a listening ear. He’d known the information would be beneficial sooner or later. Acting anonymously, he’d called the ambitious reporter with the story.
Now the cops would assume Quinn had snapped, what with his soiled past, Selene’s past, and her dead ex-husband all mixed together into some kind of homicidal gumbo.
As for himself, Selene Herrera would be the last one to die by his hands before he retired from the business of killing fine bitches and got back to his normal life. Pressing his luck any further would only be asking for the type of trouble he didn’t need or want.
At least that was the plan.
He watched as, like clockwork, Quinn emerged from the house and began running down the street en route to the park.
So long, sucker. He grinned wickedly. Enjoy the run. It may be your last as a free man.
He turned his attention to Quinn’s house. He headed that way, eager to come face to face with Selene Herrera again.
* * *
Selene glanced out the bedroom window as Quinn left for his run. She had almost gone with him, but when he told her he was meeting up with Todd Foxworth, she backed out, figuring it was a man thing and she’d just slow them down.
Besides, she had a few chores that needed done and this was an opportune time to do them. She left the room and went downstairs.
Selene was on her way to the kitchen when the doorbell rang. When she opened the door, she was surprised to see the person standing there with a customary bright smile on his face.
* * *
The park was not especially busy this evening, for which Quinn was thankful. It made running easier when he didn’t have to dodge bicycles, dogs, and walkers. He looked for Todd Foxworth at the agreed upon place, but didn’t see him. He guessed that Todd was already rounding the park and would catch him on the back swing.
His cell phone rang. He assumed it was Todd, telling him where to meet up, but it wasn’t him.
“Hey, Quinn, this is Dennis Cramer.”
* * *
Julian McKenzie stood at the door with a brilliant smile on his face.
“Julian!” Selene’s voice raised an octave in surprise.
“Hi, Selene.” He met her eyes. “How are you?”
“I’m good,” she said, forcing a smile.
“Quinn around?”
“Actually you just missed him. He’s on his way to the park to go running with Todd.”
Julian frowned and mumbled something under his breath. “Oh, I must have gotten my days and times mixed up. We were supposed to get together to go over some business.”
That was news to Selene. What business?
“Does he have his phone with him?” Julian asked.
“Never goes anywhere without it,” Selene said.
“I didn’t bring my cell with me,” Julian said. “Can I use your phone? I’ll just give him a buzz and promise to hook up with him later.”
Selene thought that was odd, but had no reason not to invite him in.
“Sure. You can use the phone in the kitchen.”
He grinned. “Okay, I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”
Selene let him in and closed the door. She watched as Julian disappeared into the kitchen. Though she had been headed that way before the intrusion, Selene didn’t want to encourage conversation and a prolonged stay. So she stayed put.
Selene listened as Julian cracked a joke or two on the phone and blamed the mix up on his wife. Then he promised to beat Quinn in a game of pool the next time around.
In the kitchen, Julian McKenzie said a few more words into the phone, certain Selene could hear him. He listened to the dial tone to which he had been speaking, before leaving the phone off the hook. It was time to rejoin his lovely and soon to be dead hostess.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
Ashley had called everyone Detective Cramer asked her to, except one. In talking to the relatives of the strangler’s victims, she came to the conclusion that none of the women had known Julian McKenzie. Some of the family members had heard of him from church or the community, but didn’t know him personally. Ashley did her best not to alarm anyone, and told them it was strictly routine follow-up. In reality, McKenzie had suddenly gone from practically invisible to the leading suspect in a serial killer case that had been officially reopened, due to her efforts.
Ashley dialed the home of Quinn and Selene Herrera. It’ll be kind of weird talking to Selene as a police officer and not as a victim of domestic violence.
The line was busy. Not too unusual in a busy world, Ashley thought. She would try again later.
* * *
“Sorry for bothering you, Quinn, but it’s important,” Detective Cramer said. “I’m looking for Julian McKenzie. I know he’s a buddy of yours. Have any idea where I might find him?”
Quinn sensed something was up. “Haven’t seen or spoken to him today. What’s going on?”
Cramer paused. “Well, you’ll hear about it soon enough. We’ve reopened The Woods Strangler case...”
Quinn flinched. “What does Julian have to do with it?”
The detective sighed. “I don’t quite know how to say this, but we now believe that Julian McKenzie is the killer...”
“What—? I don’t understand,” Quinn said, trying to come to grips with the shocking news. “I thought Michel Giovanni was the killer? Were they were working together?”
“I don’t think so,” Cramer muttered. “It’s starting to look like McKenzie set up Giovanni to take the fall. Under another name, McKenzie served time for a similar attack on a woman that resembled the strangler’s victims. Only that woman survived her ordeal.”
“Is that all you’ve got?” Quinn wanted to give Julian the benefit of the doubt that his past sins had nothing to do with the present.
“His prints were in Giovanni’s room and in the apartment of one of the victims,” Cramer told Quinn. “The bottom line is McKenzie could be a walking time bomb who could go off again at any moment—attacking any pretty lady whose path he crosses. We need to find him...fast!”
Quinn tried to digest Cramer’s words. Julian McKenzie a serial killer? The more he wanted not to believe it, the more Quinn had to open his mind to the stark possibility.
Then a darker thought entered his mind. Selene was home al
one.
What if Julian tried to go after her?
He wouldn’t dare...
Fear surged through Quinn at the mere possibility. He had to get home. Now!
Quinn relayed his fears to Cramer and ran as fast as he could toward home, hoping against hope that he wouldn’t be too late to prevent someone from murdering his wife for the second time in his life.
CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
Selene first started to feel that something wasn’t quite right when Julian sat in a chair in the living room and started to talk about Michel.
“He had the hots for you like you wouldn’t believe,” Julian said. “I met Giovanni in a bar not far from where he was staying. We drowned our sorrows—mostly his—with some cheap liquor. He was pretty tight-lipped about the juiciest stuff he had. But when I paid a whore to soften him up a bit, the man couldn’t stop talking. He practically bragged about the anonymous calls he made to you. Even talked about the reward money and how he and you were going to collect it and start your lives over in South America or something.” He snickered. “If nothing else, the son of a bitch was a dreamer, I’ll give him that.”
Selene, who had remained standing, was shocked. She wasn’t sure about where it was coming from or what it meant. But she certainly didn’t like where this was going. “I’d rather not talk about Michel, if you don’t mind. In fact, I really have to—”
“You know,” Julian cut her off, “Giovanni was the answer to all my problems. His obsession with you worked out beautifully.”
“What are you talking about?”
Julian stood, flexing his muscular arms. “I needed someone to be the perfect fall guy for the cops to wrap up in a nice, neat little package and boast about as their Woods Strangler trophy. I’d heard through the grapevine that your line was tapped, waiting for Giovanni to call. Once I encouraged him to do just that by making him believe it would send you running back into his arms, I knew the cops would be quick to show up and pounce on him like flies on rotted meat.”
Killer in The Woods: A Psychological Thriller Page 22