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Homecoming Homicides

Page 13

by Marilyn Baron


  “Some of the girls live in sorority houses, they go to classes, they go to bars until all hours of the morning, to parties all over the city, stay with their boyfriends at night,” Luke rationalized. “It’s tough to keep them in sight 24/7. We can’t lock down the sorority houses, although we’d like to. But we’re doing our best. You know how large the university is.

  “And we have a small police force,” Luke added. “But your department is helping, and we’re getting some assistance from the county PD, and the FBI is providing additional resources. We’ve put bodyguards on all the girls. A number of the parents have taken their daughters out of school until this case is solved. That’s helped. But as far as my chief is concerned, this is still a local case, and that’s the way we’re treating it. The FBI doesn’t automatically have authority. They’re only here in our jurisdiction by invitation, as a consultant. In serial crimes, the rule is that jurisdiction is based on where the crime occurred and sometimes the who or what. There’s no evidence the killer crossed state lines. This bastard is clever. He knows that.”

  “The parents are clamoring for the FBI to take the lead in this case,” Flippy noted. “If I were one of the parents, I would insist on it, too.”

  “We’ve asked for their help, but if this case doesn’t get solved soon, before we lose another girl, we won’t have a choice. Everything will be out of our hands. Chief Bradley doesn’t want to admit he can’t get the job done, and nobody wants to be told that another agency does it better. The chief wants our task force to solve this case. Nobody at the university or on the local level trusts the FBI. As soon as we called them in, the case turned into a media circus.”

  “News flash. It already was a media circus.”

  “This case has become personal,” Luke explained. “Chief Bradley’s older brother works for the FBI. Apparently the chief has something to prove, and he wants his people to bring in the killer.”

  “That’s silly and stupid. Sounds like your chief just wants to be a hero, at the expense of more girls who could show up dead or missing.”

  “Maybe, but he doesn’t like outsiders in his business,” Luke said. “After the service, we can go back to your office and go through the file of interviews with contestants and family members. The answer’s got to be somewhere in those transcripts, and we should definitely take a second look at the video of the program. Have you heard back from your contact about who produced the video?”

  “I told Misty to be expecting a call and to relay that information to me on my cell.”

  Flippy looked out of the car window. “What do we know about this guy?” Flippy wondered.

  “We don’t know anything about him specifically, but do know something about serial killers in general. Serial killers often exhibit latent criminal tendencies in their early years by torturing animals, wetting their beds, and setting fires.”

  “When I get back to your place, I’m going to search the archives of the Graysville Reporter. I can cover a lot of ground that way. I’ll look for stories about any reports of kids torturing animals, or starting fires, incidences of escalating antisocial behavior.”

  “Great idea. And I’m going to get someone down at the station to get me a list of anyone on the university payroll who might have access to our buildings. We might cross-reference your list with that one. I want to know how our guy managed to get into a locked stadium in the middle of the night.”

  “We’re going to find him, Luke. I know we are. What specifically have Jack and Katherine come up with?”

  “The chief says Katherine predicts a new body is going to turn up soon. Although that’s a little vague. New bodies have been turning up on a regular basis long before she got here. And…”

  “And, what?”

  Luke hesitated and shrugged his shoulders.

  “Like I said, she’s been getting visions about you. She insists you’re still in danger.”

  “Well, you’re with me twenty-four hours a day.”

  Luke turned to face her. “I don’t want you to worry, Flip. He’s going to have to go through me to get to you.”

  “That’s comforting, but I wish no one else had to get hurt.”

  “So do I.”

  Lucas pulled up to the next landmark on their list. Graysville Prairie Preserve State Park.

  “Gray’s Prairie isn’t actually on campus, but I think it definitely qualifies as an NFU landmark as well as a National Natural Landmark. A lot of the kids go out there to park, fraternities take their pledges on road trips, and so on. It’s really popular with students. Jack and I used to go there and—”

  “I don’t want to hear any more about Jack and what you used to do to each other, okay?”

  Flippy was silent. Luke was right. Her personal business shouldn’t enter into this investigation. And she shouldn’t even be thinking about Jack.

  “This spot is pretty much isolated, so it would be easy to dump a body here,” Luke said. “They’ve got alligators, birds, all kinds of wildlife. Someone might have seen something; one of the kids in a parked car might have noticed something suspicious. We’ll double back here at night, but I wanted to see the place during the day. We can climb up that observation tower near the visitor center and get a panoramic view of the preserve from fifty feet up. Our guy would have done that already.”

  Flippy got out of the car, and she and Luke walked first in one direction, then back in another. The Prairie was much too big to traverse on foot—21,000 acres according to the brochure she had taken from the visitor’s center. There were eight trails for hiking, bicycling, and horseback riding. There was a lake for fishing, too, with a boat ramp for canoes and boats, even campsites and a picnic pavilion. Plenty of places to get lost and blend in. The ground was as flat as you might imagine a prairie to be. You could easily bury a body there, say in a swamp, or in the sinkhole. The latest addition to the park was a 1,000-foot boardwalk that had been constructed from the edge of the Prairie to the County Sinkhole, but this killer wanted his grisly work out in the open for all the world to see. He’d get off on that.

  “Flip, over here. We’ve got footprints.” Luke followed the trail and stopped at a clearing.

  “Look at this. Someone has made a bed of pine needles, a resting place, just about the right size for a body. Wonder if this is the work of our guy? I’m going to get a squad car out here, see if they can gather some evidence.”

  Luke made a call on his cell phone. “What’s our next stop?”

  “The North Florida University Bat House,” Flippy said, scanning the list.

  “You know, in all the years I’ve been around here, I’ve never been there,” Luke admitted.

  “It can creep you out, if you spend any time there at night,” Flippy admitted. “There are zillions of bats swooping around. Well, it just seems like zillions. This bat house actually houses more than 100,000 bats. I took an elective course on bats once. Ours is the largest occupied ‘bat house’ in North America, maybe even in the world. It’s like something out of a vampire movie, seeing all these small woolly brown creatures flying like acrobats, arcing slowly across the sky.”

  “Is this it?” Luke asked when he pulled up to park and pointed at the structure. “It’s just an open, free-standing hut?”

  “Yes, the university and the University Athletic Association built it.”

  “It’s the perfect size for a body. Our guy could hide in the trees over there and when the coast is clear, he could drag out the body and place it right under the roof of the bat house. And watch the bats cover the victim and suck her blood.”

  “They don’t suck blood, silly, they eat insects. These are Brazilian Free-Tailed Bats and Southeastern Bats. Every night these bats eat ten to twenty million insects. Nursing mothers can eat up to 125 percent of their body weight in insects each night.”

  “Who needs pest control when you have your own bat force?”

  “That’s not a joke. That’s exactly what they do.”

  “We need t
o post a man here. Our guy has probably cased this place. It’s perfect for him. It’s simple and symbolic, symmetrical. Fits our guy to a T.” Luke made some notes. “The chief will want to hear about this.”

  “Where do we go next?” Flippy asked.

  “Well, there’s the museum, but it’s locked at night. It would be almost impossible for him to get in there.”

  “He got into the stadium, didn’t he?”

  “Well the museum probably has cameras, lots of security, but it may not be open enough for our killer,” Luke said.

  “And then there’s the chapel overlooking the lake,” Flippy added. “Another likely spot. Very romantic. That could appeal to a twisted mind.”

  “Nothing romantic about what this guy does to the girls,” Luke muttered. “It’s sick.”

  “But we have to get into the mind of the serial killer, Luke. He could find that location appealing for some reason.”

  “Let’s do that tomorrow. I’m getting hungry. How about you?”

  “You’re always hungry, Luke. But I could go for something.”

  “Okay, why don’t we swing back by your office? You can touch base with Misty, see if everything is lined up for the service, and then we can grab a bite at DaVinci’s and still make it to the service in plenty of time.”

  “And you can get another look at Misty, if I’m hearing you correctly.”

  “I’m not interested in Misty. I mean not in the way you mean. I mean, what normal guy wouldn’t be, but...”

  “Which proves my point, that you’re just a typical guy interested in only one thing.”

  “You’re confusing me with Jack. I am not a cheater. If I had someone like you, I’d never look at another woman.”

  “I’ve heard that line before.”

  “If I said it, I would mean it, Scout’s honor.”

  Flippy smiled. She was starting to believe that Luke meant what he said.

  When they arrived at the office, Flippy noticed something was different, but she couldn’t place the discrepancy. When she walked into her outer office, Misty confronted her.

  “They’ve run them off,” Misty said furiously.

  “Run who off?” Flippy wondered.

  “The homeless men. The police came earlier this morning and picked them up in a van and took them somewhere with all their bags and things, and now they’re gone and I don’t know where. I tried to stop them.”

  Flippy swerved on Luke.

  “Do you know anything about this?” she accused.

  Luke blushed. “I did call the office yesterday to complain about the men. I was only concerned for your safety.”

  “Luke, I asked you not to interfere. They were not hurting anyone, and now they could be out in the cold somewhere, hungry, helpless.”

  Luke looked helpless himself. “I’ll call the office and see what I can find out. But I told you the city has an ordinance against them. They’re not supposed to be here. You’re not supposed to harbor them.”

  “For heaven’s sake, they’re not criminals, Luke.”

  “And you know that how? This city is running scared. The last thing the mayor wants is a bunch of homeless men wandering around unsupervised.”

  Flippy shook her head to transmit her displeasure to Luke. Then she and Misty went into Flippy’s office to review the list of items for Traci’s memorial service.

  “I’ve contacted the Farrises, the clergyman, sent out an all-campus e-blast inviting students to pay their respects. We should have enough seating. I’ve made arrangements for the media to be there. I’ll have everything they’ll need. We’re going to have light refreshments.”

  “That’s great, Misty. You’re doing a wonderful job, and you’re a big help to me. It sounds like everything is taken care of. Can you stay until I get back from the service?”

  “Yes.”

  “Any other calls?”

  “A Terrence Scott called and said he was going to pick up Jack Armstrong and bring him to the service. And Jack Armstrong called several times. Wanted to know if you’d be there. I hope it was okay that I told him yes. Also, I postponed a couple of your meetings because I knew you’d be busy.”

  “Thanks, Misty.”

  Hiring Misty was beginning to pay dividends. She was proving to be less ditzy and more of a real asset.

  Flippy and Luke walked to DaVinci’s and sat at the bar. Flippy had a salad and Luke had a large pepperoni pizza. He offered her a slice. She removed the pepperonis and ate the cheese pizza plain. It tasted good. She washed it down with an entire glass of diet soda.

  “My treat,” Luke said.

  “You don’t have to buy my lunch.”

  “I want to. You’ve had a rough couple of days, and it’s no big deal.”

  “Thanks, Luke. I enjoyed it.”

  “It looks like you’re getting your appetite back,” said Luke, after she lifted another slice of pizza from his plate.

  “I figure I’d better eat now. Who knows when we’ll get to eat dinner?”

  “We. I like the sound of that.” Luke smiled.

  “Well I’m still mad at you for displacing those poor homeless men. I actually felt safer with them here.”

  “I’m looking into it,” Luke acknowledged, adding, “And I’m still steamed that you arranged for Jack to be at the service. That’s the last place he should be.”

  “I thought it was the right thing to do. Jack needs some closure. We both do.”

  “Well, I hope you’re not going to let him sweet talk you back into his bed.”

  “That will never happen. I promise you that.”

  After lunch, they walked to Luke’s car and drove to the memorial service. The auditorium was packed, a tribute to Traci. Flippy and Luke had just started down the aisle to talk to Traci’s parents when Flippy felt a tug on her arm and heard a familiar voice. Jack Armstrong’s voice.

  “Flip, honey, I’ve been trying to reach you. I need to talk to you.” Jack glared at Luke, and added, “Alone.”

  Flippy stared down at Jack in his wheelchair. She hadn’t known how she’d react when she saw him again, or how she’d feel. It hurt a little less to look at him today, but looking at him brought back reminders of the night she had walked in on the two of them—her fiancé and her best friend. Sometimes it felt like it was all a dream and Traci was still alive. But considering the fact that she was attending a memorial service for Traci, that was hardly possible.

  “Jack, we’ll talk later. I need to see if Traci’s parents need anything, and then I have to deal with the media. If you want to hang around, I’ll be available.”

  “Available? You’re treating me like another one of your appointments. I love you, Flip. You used to be in love with me.”

  “You loved me so much you had to sleep with my best friend?” Flippy started to walk away. “This is the wrong time and place. Later.”

  “Flippy, I can explain, if you’ll let me.”

  She shook her head and walked away. Luke caught up.

  “I’m proud of you. You were real cool. That couldn’t have been easy. And I will definitely be there when you two talk.”

  “I can talk to him alone, I don’t need a bodyguard or a babysitter.”

  “I just thought that...”

  They were approaching Traci’s parents.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Farris. Is there anything I can get for you?”

  “We’re okay. We’re going to take Traci home today. Your Chief Bradley is giving us an escort to the airport.”

  Flippy looked around and saw that a large number of uniformed officers from both campus and city police forces were in attendance. She would have to remember to thank Chief Bradley for that show of respect.

  The president of the university made the opening remarks, then introduced the dean of students. A member of the clergy read some passages, and there was a poetry reading. The Farrises were too distraught to do more than listen, and the tears flowed throughout the service. Flippy would have liked to talk at the serv
ice, but she too found herself in no condition to participate. She hadn’t broken down yet, but she was coming close to it now. Mrs. Farris had invited her to the actual funeral, which would be held in Miami, and she was considering going. She had been at odds with Traci the last time they were together, but the words of prayer washed over her and cleansed her, and she truly forgave Traci. They had been so close once.

  Ultimately, she blamed Jack, but he wouldn’t have strayed if she’d given him everything he needed. Maybe she had been too busy, not nurturing or sympathetic enough. She had to share the blame. Luke handed her a handkerchief to wipe eyes she hadn’t even realized were tearing.

  “A Boy Scout is always prepared,” he mouthed, as she wiped her eyes. She smiled her thanks.

  One by one, students got up and placed flowers on the stage, girls from Traci’s sorority, people Flippy knew and many she didn’t. Traci’s body was already being prepared for the flight home, so there was no casket. There was a police color guard. Everything was very low key.

  When the memorial service was over, she led Mr. and Mrs. Farris out a side door to where Chief Bradley was waiting.

  “Thank you, Flippy,” said Mrs. Farris. “Thank you for everything. You were a good friend to Traci.”

  Flippy winced and hoped they never found out what had gone on between the two girls in what were probably the final moments of Traci’s life before she was snatched.

  She and Luke walked to his car. Then she saw Jack’s friend wheeling him toward her. She had forgotten all about Jack. She noticed he still wasn’t using his crutches.

  “Flippy, you said you’d wait.”

  Flippy frowned.

  “Jack, I’m really busy now.”

  “I need to talk to you,” Jack said urgently.

  Luke hovered, and Flippy signaled it was okay to leave them alone.

  “What do you want?” Flippy asked.

  “You know what I want. I want you.”

  “A week ago you wanted Traci. I don’t think you know what you want.”

  “You’re still mad at me.” It was a statement.

 

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