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All The Dead Girls

Page 7

by Tim Kizer


  Nick asked: “OK, I’ll take $25 000. Do we have a deal?”

  Harry was probably going to try to kill him instead of paying him.

  The killer responded: “Let me think about it.”

  Chapter 16

  1

  “I think he bought it,” Holly said.

  “Let's hope so.” Nick placed the killer’s phone on his lap.

  Holly glanced at her watch. It had been almost four hours since the police had arrived at the Sunrise Mart. They must have already finished searching the area and returned to the station.

  Holly opened the call log on her cell and dialed the Buffalo Police Department’s number.

  “Four hours ago I reported an assault near the Sunrise Mart at Main Street and I-Forty-five,” Holly said when the operator answered. “I’m calling to ask to if anyone was killed.”

  “Let me check.”

  A minute later the operator said, “Our officers found no body there, and they were unable to locate the victim.”

  “Thank you.”

  Holly hung up.

  Was Veronica alive? Had she simply missed the bus?

  Holly wished she had Veronica’s phone number so she could call and check on her.

  “What did they say?” Nick asked.

  “They found no body.”

  “Maybe he didn’t kill her?”

  “Maybe.”

  Had the killer murdered Veronica? If he had, how had he managed to hide her body so well that the police had been unable to find it? He hadn’t had a lot of time to do it, probably a few minutes.

  Maybe the police didn’t search the area thoroughly.

  Had Veronica’s suspected killer murdered anyone at the Houston bus station?

  Although they had kept an eye on the guy practically the whole time, Holly feared that he had somehow managed to kill someone in Houston. She believed it didn’t take him long to kill; he could probably do it in less than half a minute.

  Maybe she should call the Houston bus station and ask them to look for a dead body? Or just ask if they had found a dead body?

  “Any new messages from him?” Holly asked Nick, who was scrolling through their conversation with Harry.

  Nick shook his head.

  2

  Maybe he should just ask Sam if he was Harry?

  Nick supposed it couldn't hurt.

  Nick got up, walked to the row where Sam sat, and slid into the seat next to him.

  “Hi,” he said to Sam.

  “Hi.” Sam stared at him curiously.

  “Do you have a phone charger?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you think it will fit this phone?” Nick pilled out the killer’s cell and showed it to Sam, looking for recognition in his eyes.

  “I don’t know. I have an LG G-Four.”

  Nick leaned close to Sam and lowered his voice. “So when do you want to do the exchange?”

  “What exchange?”

  “You’re Harry, right?”

  Sam shook his head. “I’m Sam.”

  “You can trust me, man. I’m not a snitch. I’m a business-minded man. I’m just out to make a quick buck.”

  Sam looked puzzled. “I don't understand what you're talking about.”

  “You want your phone back, don’t you?”

  “What phone?”

  “The one you lost.”

  “I didn’t lose my phone.”

  Nick smiled. “I’m sorry, man. I thought you were someone else.”

  He stood up and returned to his seat.

  “You talked to Sam?” Holly asked.

  “Yes.”

  “About what?”

  “I asked him if he was Harry.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said he wasn’t.”

  “You think he’s telling the truth?”

  Nick shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  He went to Jay’s Electronics’ website and opened the Store Locations page. The company had no stores in Beaumont, Baton Rouge, or New Orleans.

  Chapter 17

  1

  What if she was dead?

  When Veronica’s suspected killer returned from the restroom, the woman he’d bought a drink for had appeared to be asleep. That hadn’t seemed important to Eric at the time and he had paid no attention to the woman after Veronica’s suspected killer took his bag and walked away. Now he wondered if Veronica’s suspected killer had roofied her drink.

  He wondered if the guy had poisoned her.

  Had he interpreted what he had seen correctly?

  That woman’s chin had rested on her chest and her eyes had seemed shut. She had appeared to be asleep, or dead, for sure.

  He should ask Ralph. Ralph had been in the waiting area when Veronica’s suspected killer returned from the restroom.

  Eric messaged Ralph: “The woman he bought a drink for in Houston, was she asleep when he came out of the restroom?”

  Why would Veronica’s suspected killer have poisoned that woman’s drink? Serial killers preferred to use knives, blunt-force objects, guns, or their bare hands to kill their victims, didn’t they?

  Ralph replied about ten seconds later: “I think she was.”

  Why had Veronica’s suspected killer put a sedative in the woman’s drink? If he had intended to kill her, why hadn’t he taken her to a secluded place? He hadn’t stolen anything from her, so theft was not a motive.

  Maybe she had dozed off naturally and no sedatives had been involved?

  Eric texted Ralph: “I think he roofied her.”

  Maybe he was going to kill her but changed his mind?

  Ralph replied: “You may be right.”

  Eric messaged: “What if he poisoned her? Did you see her move after she fell asleep?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  Eric texted Holly: “I think he roofied that woman at the terminal.”

  Ten minutes later it occurred to Eric that poisoning the woman would have been really risky for Veronica’s suspected killer. The police would have figured out that someone had poisoned the woman’s drink, and he would have been the prime suspect in her murder because her cup had his fingerprints on it.

  He didn’t pick up her cup, did he?

  His duffel bag was the only thing the guy had been carrying as he walked away. He had left the woman’s cup behind.

  It was probably safe to say that Veronica’s suspected killer had not poisoned that woman.

  Chapter 18

  1

  Nick checked the messages on Harry’s phone and then opened the Notification Panel to see if the killer’s phone was on vibrate.

  They were only twenty miles away from Beaumont, and there was still no answer from Harry.

  Did Harry figure out that my asking for money is just a ruse?

  Perhaps the killer wanted to wait until they arrived in Beaumont to answer?

  Nick pulled a blueberry energy bar from his bag, unwrapped it, and took a bite.

  Maybe his brain would work better if he gave it some sugar.

  He needed to gain Harry’s trust. How did one gain a serial killer’s trust?

  Suddenly an idea came to him.

  They said that cops trusted cops. Did serial killers trust serial killers?

  There were not a lot of serial killers in the world; it was a small club. The guy might think that serial killers should stick together.

  Dog does not eat dog.

  “I have an idea,” Nick whispered to Holly. “I’ll tell him I’m a serial killer, too.”

  He liked his plan. There was no downside: Harry wouldn’t trust him less if he thought that he was a serial killer.

  “Okay.” Holly nodded. “Let’s try it.”

  “Don’t look at his phone. He might be watching us, and I don’t want him to see you reading the messages I send him.”

  “Okay.”

  Nick popped the last bite of the bar into his mouth, tucked the wrapper into the end pocket of his duffel, and texted Harry: “I love to ki
ll too.”

  Then he sent another message: “I’ve killed more than once.”

  Half a minute later Harry replied: “Who do you like to kill?”

  Nick texted back: “Young women. Let’s talk. Let’s compare notes.”

  Did Harry believe him?

  He might ask for proof. Nick would ask for proof if he were Harry.

  Harry answered: “Will you give me back my phone?”

  Nick looked back at the balding fifty-something man sitting four rows behind them across the aisle, who was one of the seven men from the bus to Houston. The guy was asleep, so he couldn’t be the killer.

  Maybe he’s pretending to be asleep.

  “Yes. We’re on the same side, man. It was Holly who found your phone. I took it from her to protect you.”

  “Do you still want money?”

  “No. You can buy me a beer, if you want.”

  “Can you text me from your own phone?”

  Why does he want me to text him from my phone?

  Perhaps Harry wanted his phone number, which he would use to find out his name and address.

  Nick had to comply with Harry’s request in order to gain his trust.

  “OK.”

  He pulled out his cell and sent Harry a message from it: “Hi. This is George.”

  Will he wait until he has my name and address to meet me?

  Harry replied: “Where are you headed?”

  “Miami.”

  “Not Baton Rouge?”

  “No. I can show you my ticket. Where are you headed?”

  “New Orleans. Is George your real name?”

  “No.”

  “What’s your real name?”

  “I’ll tell you when we meet.”

  “OK.”

  “When would you like to meet?”

  “We’ll meet in Beaumont.”

  Harry wanted to be able to flee when they met, which was pretty smart of him. You can’t be too careful.

  Nick texted: “OK.”

  “Don’t tell Holly about it.”

  “OK.”

  Nick stared at the screen for a long moment, waiting for another message, and then pocketed the phone.

  “What did he say?” Holly whispered.

  “He wants to meet in Beaumont. Don’t call the police yet.”

  “Okay. What are you going to do when you meet him?”

  “I haven't decided yet.”

  Harry might try to kill him after getting his phone back. Nick believed he could prevail over Harry if the killer was alone, but it would be harder to defend himself if there were two attackers (it was possible that Harry had a partner).

  Did Harry have a gun? You couldn’t beat a gun with karate.

  If Harry threatened him with a pistol, he might flee. His first priority was staying alive.

  Nick asked, “What kind of phone do you have?”

  He could replace the battery in Harry’s phone with another one and lift the killer’s fingerprints from it later. He couldn’t use his own phone battery as a replacement because his and Harry’s cells were of different makes.

  “LG,” Holly replied.

  The killer’s phone wasn’t LG.

  “You know what I’m afraid of?” Nick said.

  “What?”

  “The cops will arrest him and then let him go.”

  “Why would they let him go?”

  “The pictures alone don’t prove he killed those women.”

  He wanted Holly to realize that calling the police before he met the killer was not a good idea.

  “Dammit.” Holly frowned.

  “We need to get more proof.”

  “How are we going to do it?”

  “He said he’s headed to New Orleans. We arrive there at midnight, so we’ll have about five hours to figure it out.”

  “What if he stays in Beaumont?”

  “I’ll try to persuade him not to do that.”

  Nick unplugged the killer’s phone from the charger, pocketed it, and pulled out his cell. “I’ll record our conversation. Hopefully I’ll be able to get him to confess.”

  “Do you have a voice recorder app on your phone?”

  “I think so.”

  Nick scrolled through the list of apps installed on his phone, found the voice recorder app, and said, “I have it.”

  “What if we can’t get more proof?” Holly asked.

  “Then we’ll call the police and hope for the best.”

  Holly took her nail file from her bag, said, “It’s better than nothing,” and handed it to Nick, who put it in his back pocket.

  Who knows, the file might save my life.

  Chapter 19

  1

  Castor pulled into the rest stop where the Beaumont bus station was located at 6:23 p.m. He had twelve minutes to kill before Osiris’s bus arrived, and he decided to test Veronica’s and Lucia’s blood types.

  After informing Osiris that he was in Beaumont, Castor unfolded the two chairs he’d brought with him and placed them opposite each other. From his bag he took a box containing blood testing supplies, set it on one of the chairs, then turned Veronica over and cut the zip tie from her wrists.

  Osiris was looking for a woman with O negative blood. She was going to be murdered, but her death wouldn’t be in vain: her heart would be transplanted into Osiris’s friend.

  Castor had performed blood type tests for four women to date and had gotten pretty good at it.

  He retrieved a pair of latex gloves and put them on.

  “You have a very nice ass, baby.” Castor took Veronica’s right hand and massaged her ring finger for about ten seconds. After cleaning the tip of her finger with an alcohol pad, he wiped it with a cotton ball and pricked it with a lancet. A drop of blood appeared, and he used the cotton ball to remove it. Gently massaging Veronica’s finger, Castor filled a pipette with her blood.

  He sat down on the empty chair, pulled a blood typing tray (a two-by-three-inch plastic plate with three depression wells labeled A, B, and Rh) from the box, placed it in front of him, and opened the antibody vials. He put two drops of blood in each of the three wells on the blood typing tray, then added antibodies against A, B, and Rh antigens to the appropriate wells. Using toothpicks—a different one for each well—Castor mixed the blood with antibodies. All that was left to do was wait for the blood’s reaction to the antibodies. If blood had a particular antigen, it clumped when exposed to the corresponding antibody, a process called agglutination. Type A blood had only the A antigen, type B only the B antigen, type AB both the A and B antigens, and type O had neither. If blood contained the Rh antigen, it was Rh-positive; if not, it was Rh-negative.

  Castor’s heart skipped a beat when he saw that no agglutination had occurred in any of the wells.

  Veronica’s blood was O negative, a rare blood type that only seven percent of the population had.

  The O negative blood type had a major drawback: people with it could receive organs only from those with O negative blood, which dramatically diminished their chances of finding a donor. As a matter of fact, people with O negative blood had the lowest chances of finding a donor. Interestingly, they could donate organs to anyone, they were universal donors. Talk about getting the short end of the stick.

  Castor put the antibody vials back in the box (there was no need to test Lucia’s blood anymore), placed the blood typing tray in a plastic bag, and took off the gloves.

  Osiris will be so happy when I tell him Veronica has O negative blood.

  Castor retied Veronica’s hands, turned her over onto her back, and then called Osiris.

  2

  The caller ID read John Brown. It was the name that he’d saved Castor’s number under in his contacts.

  Osiris answered the call. “Hello.”

  “I tested Veronica’s blood,” Castor said. “It’s O negative.”

  “I'm glad to hear that. Is that all?”

  “Yes.”

  “Have a good day, man.” Osiris h
ung up.

  Veronica had O negative blood. That was great news.

  Rachel Sheridan would get a new heart, and her dad, Peter Sheridan, would owe Osiris one, a big one, for saving his daughter’s life.

  He and Castor wouldn’t get to have fun with Veronica, but it was okay. They had Lucia, and soon they would snatch Holly.

  Chapter 20

  1

  At six-forty p.m., running five minutes behind schedule, the bus exited the freeway, then pulled into a rest stop and parked at the curb in front of a truck gas station.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, this is Beaumont,” the driver said. “If this is your stop, be sure to claim your luggage. We’ll be here for fifteen minutes. We’ll leave at six fifty-five.”

  Several semitrucks were parked in the back of the lot and one at the pumps with a nozzle in its tank, an uncoupled semitrailer marked Koechner Logistics sat nearby. The yellow sign above the gas station price board announced GATEWAY TRAVEL PLAZA. According to the two signs below the price board, the travel plaza offered a restaurant called Roadhouse and a motel with free HBO and a free breakfast and a room rate of $49.99.

  There was a regular gas station in front of the two-story building that housed the restaurant and the motel.

  Nick texted Harry from his own phone: “Should I get off the bus?”

  Harry probably wanted to meet outside.

  The killer replied: “Yes.”

  Nick told Holly, “Stay in the bus. Don’t call the police.”

  “Okay.”

  Nick opened the voice recorder app, tapped the Record button, and got up.

  What if Harry doesn’t get back on the bus? Should I stay with him in Beaumont?

  As Nick descended the steps, Harry messaged: “Go to the restaurant entrance.”

  Nick texted back: “OK,” and started walking toward the restaurant.

  Was Harry watching him?

  Nick wondered if the killer was among the bus passengers moving toward the motel/restaurant building. One of the three men ahead of him, a wiry young guy with a buzz cut, had been on the bus to Houston. Was he Harry? Or was the killer following behind?

  Every one of the bus passengers ahead of Nick went into the convenience store that adjoined the restaurant.

 

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