by C. M. Sutter
Jack answered immediately and listened as Clayton explained the situation. “I just got off the phone with the North Bend PD myself. Vince has a lengthy criminal sheet but mostly for petty things like store theft and starting fights in high school. There’s been a few vandalism charges against him too but nothing as far as dealing drugs. Looks like he’s been up to no good since he was a kid, though.”
“That’s what Billy said. Maybe he’s leaving the drug-dealing business to Cory. No need to compete with somebody who lives in the same apartment complex in the same town.”
“Agreed. I’m heading out now, and I’ll meet you there in ten minutes.”
Chapter 35
I browsed through the records in the county’s database and came up empty for anyone who had been busted for selling fentanyl locally.
I massaged my forehead as I tried to think of another angle. “I’m not getting anywhere with fentanyl arrests.”
Amber leaned back in her chair. “Fentanyl is usually added to another drug, to make the high higher, isn’t it?”
I slapped my desk in an aha moment. “That’s what I’m missing. I’m looking for arrests for dealing fentanyl instead of heroin.”
“But Daphne didn’t have heroin in her body.”
“True, but it still could have come from the same person. Maybe they lace the heroin with fentanyl on higher-priced deals.” I went to the database and began jotting down every heroin arrest made in the last year. I’d go back further if I had to.
“I’ll see if anyone is in lockup for drug possession with intent to sell.” Amber pulled up the county jail log. “Sure as shit. Gunnar Tobias, our longtime drug-dealing punk, is right upstairs, awaiting his sentencing. This time he’s going away for at least a nickel term.” Amber jerked her head toward the door and grabbed a notepad from her desk drawer. “Let’s go pay him a visit and see if he feels like chatting.”
“Hang on. I’ll call upstairs first and have Josh pull Gunnar from the cell and toss him in box number one.” I made the quick call and arranged it. Josh said it would take ten minutes. “Let’s write down our questions first so we don’t overlook anything.”
With that finished and an update call made to Jack, we walked to the third floor of our building.
“Hey, Josh, is El Chapo ready for his interview?”
Josh chuckled. “Not willingly, but yeah, he’s in box one.”
I gave Josh a thank-you nod, and Amber and I entered the small green-walled interrogation room.
“What’s up, Gunnar? Waiting for that special sentencing day when you get to move to the big house?”
“Go to hell.”
“Sure thing, but I have some questions first.” Amber and I took seats facing Gunnar on the other side of the steel table.
“Why should I talk to you pigs? My trial is already over with except for the sentencing phase.”
I nodded. “That’s right, and you could get anywhere from three to five years behind those big boy bars, but we might have some say in that. We could recommend the max to the judge or ask him to be a little more lenient because you were helpful in a case we’re working on.”
He huffed. “Fine. What do you want to know?”
I smiled. “Glad you asked.”
Amber pulled out the list of questions we had prepared and dove in. I’d be the one taking notes.
“You were the heroin kingpin of the county for some time. There has to be competition in the area that was pretty happy when you got busted for the second time. Care to share names?”
“Hell no. I don’t intend to be locked up forever.”
“Right. So have you ever laced heroin with fentanyl?”
He stared at the table and kept silent.
“Okay, I guess we’re done here. Enjoy your five years in Waupun, and I promise you won’t be the same guy when you get out.”
We pushed back our chairs and turned toward the door.
“Wait a minute. I had to think before I answered.”
Amber looked over her shoulder. “Yeah, let’s hear it. We don’t have all day, and you’ll miss dinner if you don’t start talking soon.”
“Fine, I’ll admit it. I’ve laced heroin with fentanyl. It gives you a crazy high.”
We took our seats again.
“That’s nice,” Amber said, “and where did you get it?”
“You can order the shit right online. I thought you cops did your homework.”
“Limit your concerns to yourself. Who did you sell the laced heroin to?”
“Street guys who resold it. I never dealt with the final user. That’s what the minions are for. It limits my visibility.”
I laughed. “Not that well or you wouldn’t be sitting here talking to us. Give us names. Do you know Cory Norman?”
He stared at the ceiling as he let out a groan. “Yeah, but he’s a lightweight. Only deals Oxy. I did business with three guys in town. If there’s any more than that, you’ll have to find them on your own.”
I flicked his hand with my fingers. “Let’s get to the names.”
“John Cinq, Tony Wesley, and Marques Gates. What they did with the stuff is on them. They’re the only people I dealt with.”
“And do they all live in the county?”
“Yeah.”
We stood and walked to the door.
“We have a deal, right?”
Amber smiled. “Depends if your information helps our investigation or not. We can find two-bit drug dealers on our off days without your input. We’ll let you know.”
We returned to the bull pen, and I made a call to Jack. “Are you at Cory’s apartment?”
“Yeah, we’re just heading in. Why?”
“You need to ask if he has any connections to John Cinq, Tony Wesley, and Marques Gates. Gunnar gave up their names as the guys he used to sell the fentanyl-laced heroin to.”
“Got it. Nice work.”
“Thanks, Boss.” I hung up the phone and made a new pot of coffee. “Now we wait to hear what Cory has to say.”
An hour had passed, and I was fidgety—we needed answers. What we had given the press did little to ease the anxiety of students, their parents, and the university. Luckily the press wasn’t aware of Daphne’s initial toxicology results. They’d have a field day with that information.
We had already updated Horbeck and Jamison with what we knew so far when Jack and the guys finally returned at five forty-five.
I spun my chair toward them. “Well, what did you find out?”
Jack plopped down in my guest chair. “I had Silver transport Cory to lockup, and a warrant is being issued for his home. The mom had a choice to leave the house and stay somewhere else until the search is complete or join her son in lockup, for harboring a drug dealer. She surrendered the house keys.”
I looked at Amber and smirked. “I guess the noose is tightening around the necks of all the local players. What about the guys Gunnar gave up?”
“Cory knew their names but said they don’t run in the same pack. I’ll have Patrol shadow them for a few days and see what they’re up to. It’ll be much easier to make an arrest stick if we catch them in the act of selling the drugs.”
“What about a possible connection between Vince and Gunnar’s guys? Gunnar said Cory only dealt Oxy, but maybe Vince had a connection with them,” Amber said.
Jack fisted his eyes. “We’ll figure this out, but for now, go home and get some rest. Horbeck and Jamison are on the clock, so let them do their share of the work. I’m heading upstairs to drill Cory about Vince and to see if he has any knowledge of Daphne’s death.”
Chapter 36
Naomi couldn’t wiggle out of the agreement she’d made with him earlier that day. He’d promised her a failing grade if she didn’t show up at his house by six thirty, and that time, he’d accept no excuses. She was the last to go, and he had to come up with a good place to dump her body. With the hot days and early summer rains, the heat, humidity, and bugs would take care of her rotting c
orpse in no time.
Where to dump her is the question. I don’t want her found or connected to me in any way. I’ll have to get rid of her car too.
Mike remembered seeing her drive an old van. He would put his bicycle in the back of it, drive the vehicle to Riverview Park after closing hours, and leave it there. The parking lot wasn’t noticeable from the road, and all he’d have to do was drive to the farthest end of the lot, park the van, and ride his bike home. Since it was a city park and often patrolled, he’d have to act quickly and ride out from a different exit. Nobody would notice anything until the next day, when the park opened. The van would be ticketed and eventually taken to the impound lot if nobody claimed it. He’d keep Naomi’s phone handy and assume her identity in text messages to buy him enough time until her body was eaten away by the elements.
He heard a car door open and close just beyond the house. He pushed the kitchen curtain to the side and peered out. From where he stood, he could see the back end of the van.
Good, at least she brought the right vehicle.
He had given it more thought as he prepared dinner. Once she was dead—and it wouldn’t take long—he’d dump her deep in the Jackson City marsh. At that time of year, the place was rarely visited since there were too many mosquitos and the ground was still soggy. He wouldn’t have to drag her far off the trail, maybe fifty feet in. The underbrush was dense enough to engulf her, and she’d never be found. He’d strip her clothes off to speed the decomp and to allow the forest animals easy access to her body. He’d burn the clothing in his firepit, and he’d check her messages only when he was in the center of town and around dozens of other people.
The doorbell rang, and he dried his hands on the kitchen towel, tossed it on the counter, and walked to the foyer. He pulled the door open to see Naomi dressed as he’d insisted—in a tight-fitting low-cut red dress that came well above her knees.
“Now aren’t you a sight? And you dressed to please me, yes?”
She muttered a quiet yes.
“I must admit, Naomi, you really stank up your final exam. You’re lucky I’m willing to give you a passing grade, but no promises yet. We’ll have to see how the evening goes before I make my final decision.” He led her to the master bedroom and pointed at the bed. “First things first, you seem tense, and I have the perfect way to relax you. Take off that dress,” he said as he unbuttoned his shirt and closed the door behind them.
They emerged from the bedroom forty-five minutes later. Mike stretched and walked to the kitchen.
“Have a seat on the couch, and I’ll get you a glass of wine.”
She did as she was told.
“I hope you like spaghetti and meatballs with mushrooms. I made salad and garlic bread too. Dinner should be ready soon. I just have to warm everything up.”
“I don’t feel well, and I’m not really hungry.”
He peered around the corner and stared at her. She wasn’t about to ruin his plans, and if she didn’t eat the poisonous mushrooms in the spaghetti sauce, or the belladonna berries in the salad, he’d have to administer the old standby—fentanyl in her wine. He’d insist she have dinner with him. Her grade depended on it.
“I’m sorry, Naomi, but the night is going to go my way. You understand the consequences, don’t you?”
“I’m just not that hungry. Maybe it’s nerves.”
He handed her the glass and sat down next to her. “Then drink this wine and loosen up. I didn’t make a special dinner for nothing. We have to celebrate you passing your botany exam, right?”
“I suppose so.”
“Good, otherwise I’ll fail you.” He stood and walked to the kitchen. “We’ll eat, drink, and be merry, and then we’ll retire to the bedroom again.” He glanced at the mantel clock. “You can leave at midnight. How’s that?”
She remained silent.
In the kitchen, Mike dished up two plates of spaghetti. Hers was tossed with slices of Destroying Angels mushrooms. His wasn’t. He carried both steaming plates to the table and set them down then returned to the kitchen to get the salads. He made sure to place the one with belladonna berries next to her.
“This salad is to die for. Baby greens, feta cheese, walnuts, and blueberries drizzled with my homemade balsamic dressing. Please, dig in. I’ll get the garlic bread and the wine.”
Mike took a seat across from Naomi. He wanted the perfect view of her facial expressions. He watched as she swirled the pasta around her fork and lifted it to her mouth.
She nodded. “It’s very good.”
“Great. I aim to please.” Mike filled his fork with baby greens and took a bite. “These blueberries are fresh from the Farmer’s Market downtown.”
Naomi speared a mushroom and popped it into her mouth. “I had no idea you liked to cook.”
He smiled as he watched her dig into the salad. “I enjoy it on special occasions.”
It took only fifteen minutes for him to see the confusion begin. Mike attributed that to the berries. The mushroom symptoms would take longer to kick in—five hours or so. She’d have waves of violent nausea and vomiting before her liver was destroyed and she died. Waiting that long wasn’t necessary since the berries were already taking effect. Naomi’s speech had begun to slur, and her fork fell to the table. Mike watched with interest. He hadn’t witnessed the effects of the berries before.
“You’re a living test subject, Naomi, and it’s amazing how fast the poison is working.”
A string of drool ran from her lower lip to her plate.
“Let me help you.” He took a seat next to her, stabbed more mushrooms, and forced them into her mouth. “Chew them.”
She tried to speak, but she couldn’t form words.
“Here, have more berries.” He filled her mouth with the deadly fruit.
Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she slumped in her chair. Seconds later, she slid to the floor.
“Damn, that was quick. I barely had time to enjoy watching you suffer.” He knew she wasn’t dead, only unconscious, but he’d address that after he finished dinner. Food that good wasn’t about to go to waste. Mike ate in silence, rose from his chair, then grabbed a pillow from the couch. No need to prolong the inevitable. He dragged her out from under the table and pressed the pillow over her face. He held it in place for a good three minutes before checking her pulse. She was dead.
He pushed off his knee and stood. “How about some dessert, Naomi? What, not hungry? Okay, well, I’m going to enjoy a dish of spumoni, and then you and I are going for a drive.”
Chapter 37
With his Explorer backed into the garage, Mike raised the liftgate then returned to the house. He carried out Naomi’s wrapped nude body and placed her in the back of the SUV, tossed a tarp over her as a precaution, then pushed up his sleeve and checked the time. Most people—other than cops and criminals—were fast asleep after midnight. Tomorrow was a workday, and the streets of North Bend were nearly empty as he headed east on Washington Street. He turned right at the highway entrance, merged onto the four-lane road, and drove south for five miles. He didn’t use his blinker when he turned east again on Pleasant Valley Road—nobody was behind him, anyway. At Division Road, he turned south and continued on until he reached the marsh.
I hate this shit—dark, eerie, and dead quiet except for the crickets and frogs.
He flicked the cigarette out the window as he shifted into Reverse and backed the SUV down the dirt and gravel trail. He passed the grassy parking lot on his right and continued as far as he could until the path narrowed to the point that branches were scraping the sides of his vehicle. From that point on, the trail was meant for pedestrian traffic only.
I guess that’s as far as I’m going.
Mike killed the engine and climbed out. He clicked on his headlamp and maneuvered through the branches and twigs as he made his way to the back of the SUV. He raised the liftgate, tossed the tarp to the side, and pulled Naomi’s body out by her legs. He panned the light left and r
ight as he looked for the best place to enter the woods. The forest was thick with brush and groundcover. Carrying her farther than fifty feet would be difficult. He was thankful she was tiny. He dipped down and, with a groan, heaved her over his shoulder and headed into the darkness.
It took a good half hour, but the deed was done, and he’d covered Naomi with sticks and rotting leaves left behind from last winter’s snow melt. He bundled the plastic sheeting under his arm and headed to his vehicle.
After climbing in, he pushed the plastic under the seat and fired up the engine. A cold beer, a hot shower, and a good night’s sleep were on his agenda once he got home.
That should do it. There’s nobody left that I had an arrangement with and nobody that knew about it. The timing couldn’t be better. The exams will be done in two days, and the semester will be over. UWWC will be nothing but a ghost town for the summer. I’ll move on to another city if I have to, but that depends on how smart North Bend’s cops are. From what I’ve seen so far, none of them can outsmart me.
Chapter 38
I stumbled up the stairs to the kitchen as my nose followed the scent of fresh coffee wafting through the air.
“Good morning, Kate. How’d you sleep last night?” Jade sat at the breakfast bar while sipping a cup of coffee and eating a toaster pastry.
I looked around as I poured coffee for myself. “I slept okay. Where’s Amber?”
“She woke up late, hence the quick breakfast. No time for real food.” Jade tipped her head toward the hallway. “She’s showering.”
I took a seat next to Jade. “Have you ever had a case where the serial killer poisoned his victims?”
She looked surprised. “You still think that was the cause of death for the two UWWC girls?”
“I think so but convincing everyone else has been a challenge. It doesn’t help that the tox results for poisoning haven’t come back yet.”
“So it’s a wait-and-see case?”