“Did you get a hit?” Luke asked.
“It’s probably nothing. I just want to print something out for future reference, maybe fax it to Katherine for her take.” Luke came into the kitchen in his pajama bottoms and nothing else and hooked up his printer. She stared at his broad shoulders and his naked chest. She needed to stop thinking about sex and start focusing on serial killers.
While Luke went back to studying, she printed out the articles, folded them, and tucked them into her purse. Then she faxed them to Katherine and texted her to take a look.
She did some more research about fires in the city of Graysville and in the unincorporated areas, including the one where Rodney lived, and got several hits.
When she was exhausted, she tiptoed past Luke, who was asleep on the couch. She brushed her teeth and slipped into bed and then into slumber. Luke would probably wake up disappointed that they weren’t sharing a bed, but it was better that way. This relationship, if that’s what you called it, was moving a little too quickly.
At least now she wouldn’t be lying to her mother when Barbara asked about her involvement with Luke. They really were together, or had been. But right now her primary focus had to be on finding the killer. Was it Rodney Willis? I wonder where you are, right now, and just what you’re doing.
Chapter Thirteen
“Mary Louise Crabtree, what a beautiful name,” Rodney said, adjusting the patch he’d taken to wearing to hide the bulk of his burn scars. “It’s Southern, isn’t it?” A safe bet, since she was enrolled in a Southern university. But more than a lucky guess.
“Yes, we’re originally from Savannah, but my parents moved us down to Kissimmee, Florida, after I was in high school.” Miss Mary Louise Crabtree was just a veritable fount of information.
He had cornered pretty little Mary Louise in the campus bookstore when he brushed up against her and caused her books to tumble to the floor. Of course, being the gentleman he was, he naturally helped her pick them up.
She’d winced at his disfigured face, but only for a second, and she had the good breeding and grace to hide her disgust. Too late. He’d seen it and she would pay for that dearly when he got her alone. She was no different from the rest of them. Looks were paramount to women like that. Beauty queens were the worst offenders. All those platitudes about beauty being skin deep was just hype. Beauty was everything.
He was handsome, or had been before the fire. His mother had always told him so. “My handsome little man” this, and “my handsome little man” that. She’d said it enough times he’d come to believe it. But now that he had to live with his flaws, as he called them, pretty little things like Mary Louise Crabtree didn’t want to have much, if anything, to do with him. He’d been on a few dates with some mousy girls, but they weren’t his type. His type was the Mary Louise Crabtrees of this world. That was his birthright, his destiny. He just had to find the right one. The one who would appreciate him for who he really was.
“Thank you,” Mary Louise said, as Rodney handed her the textbooks. She glanced around the store nervously, like she was expecting someone. But he could read her body language. The little bitch couldn’t wait to get away from him.
“Go ahead, you can ask,” Rodney prompted in a near whisper. “You’re dying to know where I got these scars, aren’t you?”
“No, I wasn’t thinking that,” she denied.
“It’s okay. I’ll tell you. I’m not ashamed. I got these scars serving my country, in a firefight over Iraq.”
Mary Louise Crabtree turned to look at him. Not look past him. Not look away from him. But actually look right at him. She probably thought he was a flying ace. An officer. She never would have guessed he was just an enlisted grunt who’d served as a mechanic for the past year and received a dishonorable discharge for a little misunderstanding about a fire they accused him of starting but were never able to prove. He’d enlisted the day after the Melinda Crawford murder. It was a close call, but he had to get away. He’d shipped his brother off to an aunt in Jacksonville, and then he was home free.
“You poor thing. My brother is in Afghanistan. We’re all terribly proud of him.”
Gotcha, Rodney thought, looking back at the girl who had to be one of the stupidest, most pathetic of the homecoming contestants. She probably ranked just below his brother on the IQ scale. He was nothing if not prepared. He’d studied her, studied all of them, knew everything about them—where they were at night, what kind of naughty things they were doing and with whom, what their secrets were and their weaknesses, what lines would work on them and what lines wouldn’t. Mary Louise would be a cakewalk. He wouldn’t even need his brother to draw her out.
People warmed to Donny. They felt sorry for him. They genuinely liked him. They weren’t afraid of him. But back to unspoiled little Mary Louise Crabtree.
“Yes, well, you know I don’t regret what I did for my country, but I have to wear this patch because it covers up most of the scars. And these scars, they scare off most of the women I meet. Most of the women I meet wouldn’t even be seen with me, let alone be caught dead drinking a cup of coffee with me, or having dinner with me. But I have a feeling you’re different, Miss Mary Louise Crabtree. I have a feeling you’re braver than most people. That you see beyond the surface, that you can gaze at a person and see straight into their hearts.”
Mary Louise tipped her head in acknowledgement, offering that innocent, wide-mouthed smile that probably melted the hearts of the pageant judges.
“You would, wouldn’t you?” Rodney prodded. “Have coffee with a veteran?”
May Louise hesitated for only the briefest moment before her benevolent compassion and good Southern breeding got the better of her.
“Of course.”
“I’ll walk you to the checkout, and then—my chariot awaits.”
Maybe he was laying it on a bit thick. Probably he was a little above her capacity to appreciate his wit and charm, but this was his game and he’d play it the way he wanted to. It had worked so far. And Mary Louise was Lucky Number Seven, one of thirty tantalizing distractions until he could find a way to hit the jackpot.
Chapter Fourteen
When Luke got the call on his cell phone about the seventh victim, he was heading out of the law school parking lot. This last test had been brutal. He hadn’t put in the time to study, but he had struggled through. Sometimes he wondered if going to law school was worth it. He enjoyed being a cop. He felt if he could just make detective, that might be the challenge he needed. But he had always seen the police department as a means to an end. Being a cop added a new dimension to, and a real life understanding of, the study of law. It would make him a better lawyer.
Of course, being a cop in Graysville was small potatoes. But as it turned out, Graysville was in the big leagues now that a serial killer was on the loose in his town. His law school buddies were more than curious about the case. It was a close-knit community. Many of them knew one or more of the dead girls personally. A couple of them were even dating girls who had competed in the homecoming pageant. The other students in the class were book smart, but they had no idea what went on in the underbelly of the city. He, on the other hand, was living the law every day he was out on the streets.
His mother wasn’t too keen on him working as a cop. She thought his law school schedule was rigorous enough without his being burdened with a job. She’d also been pretty upset that his name had been dragged through the mud when Melinda Crawford was killed on his watch. She didn’t understand that he would do whatever it took to make it right.
The memory of Flippy standing there over Melinda’s body, in shock, kept coming back to him. What if it had been her lying there? What if the killer had murdered Flippy instead of Melinda? What if he hadn’t gotten back just at that moment? Flippy might not be alive today, and Luke couldn’t have lived with that.
He’d been a little brutal with her, dragging her down to the station for questioning right after Jack had been hurt, but he was
more scared than angry. That’s just how he showed it. It had been a close call, one he didn’t want to repeat.
And if it was the same killer, what if he was still after Philippa? It made sense. He had discussed this at length with Chief Bradley and with Jack Hale and his wife. Actually, Jack Hale was not a bad guy. They had a lot in common. Both had backgrounds as cops; both were going to law school. And Crystal Ball Kate? What a knockout. No wonder Jack had been attracted to her and she was the world’s darling. And brains—the woman had those in spades. She was fixated on the idea that Flippy was the target, and she talked about the killer’s scars, although she didn’t know if they were real scars or psychological scars. Her predictions weren’t always specific, but since it was on her recommendation that Flippy was accorded police protection, he would always be grateful to her.
Chief Bradley had fallen under the spell of Crystal Ball Kate and would have given her the moon if she’d asked. So he had happily authorized the protective watch for Philippa. He had assigned Luke as her personal bodyguard, although Flippy didn’t think she needed protection. But then neither had Melinda Crawford or Traci Farris or any of the other dead girls.
Katherine was spot-on about the latest victim, a beauty named Mary Louise Crabtree. They had surrounded the site of the body dump but had missed the killer by minutes. The media hadn’t yet gotten hold of the news, but when they did, all hell would break loose, again. The vultures would be swarming around the girl’s apartment, picking over scraps of maudlin interviews with those who had known her and those who hardly knew her. He dialed Flippy’s number, then reconsidered. He wanted to tell her in person. Maybe he just wanted to see her again. She should be picking up her mother at the airport right about now, and he had arranged for his partner to tail her, although she didn’t know it.
Chief Bradley had insisted he take the night off, since he was logging in so much overtime. He was beat and decided to take the chief up on his offer.
Perfect timing, since Flippy’s mother was in town. Flippy would need to take action, hold a press conference, work her magic, kick some media butt. But not tonight.
He had to admit she was a pro at what she did. The reporters respected her, the families revered and depended on her. She was a natural. The university should be thankful they had her. But damned if he’d ever admit that to her.
He spent most of his time now scared to death someone was going to snatch her away. She probably thought he was gruff and uncaring, but he didn’t want to make her nervous.
He couldn’t wait until this whole ordeal was over, until the killer was dead or behind bars. And then he could breathe easy around Flippy.
Chapter Fifteen
Flippy watched the jet taxi down the runway at the Graysville Community Airport and then waited for her mother at baggage claim. It was a small airport, which made it easy to pick up passengers. Flippy typically traveled light, with only one carry-on bag in the overhead compartment and a purse. It didn’t matter if Barbara was traveling for one night or ten nights, she’d need to check her luggage.
Barbara’s face broke into a broad smile when she saw her daughter.
“Philippa,” she cried.
“Mom,” said Flippy, hugging her mother. “You don’t mind if I call you Mom, do you?”
“Not here. I don’t know anyone in this place.” Missing in her description, but understood, was the word “godforsaken.”
“It’s so nice to see you. Do you have a hotel reservation for me?”
“Yes, at the Graysville Inn. It’s not the Ritz, but it’s nice. They serve fresh chocolate chip cookies at night. I had to pull in a favor to even get you a room. The networks have taken every available room in Graysville.” Flippy took her mother’s bag and carried it to the car. As soon as she’d mentioned the networks, she knew she’d made a mistake.
“The networks?” Barbara inquired. “Are they here for that Homecoming Homicides case?”
Flippy frowned but didn’t answer the question, and Barbara had already moved on to the next topic.
“So, when am I going to meet your young man?”
“Mom, you make him sound like something out of a Jane Austen novel. Actually, he does remind me of one of her characters. He’s a real Boy Scout. Or more like Dudley Do-Right.”
“Ooh, a Canadian Mountie. I can’t wait to meet him. He sounds interesting. Is he good-looking?”
“Actually, I never thought about him in those terms, but yes, he’s pretty spectacular.”
“Not as cute as Jack, I’ll wager.”
“Well, let’s face it, no one has a mug like Jack Armstrong.”
“Or a body.”
“Mom! You’re naughty. Jack’s available now, by the way, if you’re interested. But Luke has other qualities. The best one is he’s not a cheater. Or at least I don’t think he is.”
“Don’t bring up your father on this trip.”
“That was never my intention.”
“I’ve been reading about that poor girl, your friend Traci.”
“They had a memorial service for her yesterday. Actually it’s been a pretty brutal couple of days.”
“Well, I’m glad I’m here. I’m going to take you and Luke to a nice dinner. Did you make a reservation?”
“Yes. We really don’t have any time to spare, but I got us in at a restaurant I think you’ll like.”
Flippy pulled out of the parking lot and caught up with her mother in the ten minutes it took to get to the hotel.
“You’re looking good, Philippa,” Barbara said.
“Luke thinks I’m too thin and that I don’t eat enough. He likes his women to have some meat on their bones. That’s how he puts it.”
“Don’t let yourself go. You still have some good years ahead of you. You might want to do some modeling.”
“Mom, those days are over. I don’t want to model. I don’t want to enter any more beauty pageants, for heaven’s sake. I have a job I like and I’m very good at it.”
“Are we going to see your place first?”
“Well, I thought we could pick you up at your hotel later, then go over to Luke’s, I mean our place, for some drinks and hors d’oeuvres and then out to dinner.”
“That would be lovely. I’ll have time for a quick beauty nap. Did you talk to your sister about the wedding yet?”
“Yes, I called her and told her she needed to stop acting out and let you have the wedding you want, even though it is her wedding.”
“You didn’t call her yet, did you?”
“Mom, I’ve been a little preoccupied. But I promise I’ll do it tonight.”
“Have you eaten lunch yet?” Flippy asked as they pulled up to the hotel.
“I had something before I got on the plane. I’m not hungry. I think I’ll check into the hotel, freshen up, and wait for you to pick me up.”
“We’ll be by at around seven.”
Flippy hugged her mother again and brought the luggage in to the front desk while her mother checked in. Then they said their goodbyes.
Flippy drove back to her office, only a few minutes away, and greeted the homeless guys in the front.
“You’re back.”
“The police picked us up,” said a new man, a middle-aged guy who said his name was Chuck.
“Did they treat you okay?”
“They fed us, gave us some new clothes and blankets they had collected. But we couldn’t stay there forever. We wanted to come back.”
“That’s good.”
“I applied for a job,” Chuck announced.
“That’s wonderful. Doing what?”
“Well, working construction in one of those government works projects. It doesn’t pay much. It will barely keep a roof over my head.” Chuck laughed. “But it’s respectable. I’m glad to have the work.”
“What did you do before you got to Graysville?”
“I was an engineer, but I got laid off and I never could find another job.”
“All you need is a brea
k. Congratulations.” Flippy made a mental note to ask Luke if he had any extra clothes he could spare for Chuck.
“Are you warm enough out here?”
“It’ll be fine with our new blankets.”
Flippy went to the office, got her messages from Misty, and waited for Luke to come by. They were going to stop at the outdoor chapel on Lake Mary. It was a famous university landmark and a favorite place for weddings. The chapel was beautiful and so was the view. Students picnicked there and tailgated during football season. An unlikely place for a body dump, but this killer was unpredictable. He had managed to elude them so far.
Luke came by and popped his head into her office.
“Ready?”
“Yes. I just dropped my mother off at the hotel.”
“I’ve prepared the appetizers, and the wine is chilling.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“I had a cleaning service come by, so the place is spotless, except for Cruz. I hope she doesn’t make a mess. Does your mother like dogs?”
“Not on her own carpet, but she’s probably fine if they’re peeing on someone else’s carpet in someone else’s house.”
“Before I meet her, I need to ask you something. Are we supposed to be sleeping together?”
“What?”
“Well, I mean, I know we’re sleeping together, well, we haven’t technically slept in the same bed yet, but does she think we’re sleeping together? I mean what is our relationship?”
“I don’t know. What is our relationship?”
“Well, I know what I’d like it to be. You’re my girlfriend. Are you okay with that?”
“That was pretty sudden, but yes, I’m okay with telling my mother that.”
“But are you okay with that?”
“Yes.” Flippy smiled, and he leaned over and kissed her.
“I saw that,” Misty said. “Why is it all the good guys are taken?”
“I don’t know. You seemed pretty chummy with the owner of DaVinci’s.”
“Oh, Riley? He’s okay. But he’s married to his job. He’s too serious.”
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