by C. M. Sutter
Jack sighed and leaned back. He stared at the ceiling. “So, nothing that actually helps.”
I tried to sound optimistic. “It helps eliminate our pool of suspects.”
Jack raised his brow and stared at me. “We have a pool of suspects?”
My shoulders dropped. “Oh yeah, I guess not.”
“All right, I’ll update Jamison and Horbeck when they get here. Lena should have a full report for us in the morning, and hopefully Forensics found a usable print in Leslie’s house. By the way, I didn’t get anything helpful from Montgomery PD.” Jack slapped his hands together. “Okay, enough for tonight. Go home and get some rest. Tomorrow will be another day of digging.”
Chapter 17
Keith stayed up half the night, plotting and planning his revenge. He wasn’t wronged personally, and it was a good thing that his name wasn’t on the tip of anyone’s tongue. He would remain under the radar and exact his revenge without anyone pointing a finger at him.
He attended his brother’s trial only twice and sat quietly at the back of the courtroom. Justice would prevail, and at the time, he thought it would be a no-brainer. Kevin would be deemed insane, he’d be locked up in a not-so-bad facility, receive a daily regimen of feel-good meds, and live out his life in a blissful state of mental intoxication. As Kevin’s legal guardian, Keith would be financially rewarded for years to come. Life would go as planned—until it didn’t.
The thought of being broke infuriated him. It wasn’t the life he was accustomed to, and he certainly didn’t want to find a job after eleven years of doing nothing but collect a monthly allowance.
He pounded the table as he thought about Leslie McDonald and what he’d overlooked that morning.
Why was I so stupid? I could have taken valuables out of that bitch’s house, or at least her cash. That reminds me. Tomorrow, the old man at Shorecrest Gold and Jewelry Exchange will see the last of me, and everyone else too.
Keith thought long and hard about Tyler Rauch now that he knew the man’s work schedule. Earlier that day, after spotting the red truck at the ambulance company, Keith parked out of sight and watched until Tyler finally left at six o’clock. An idea bubbled up in Keith’s mind as he followed Tyler home. Kevin had spent the last ten years at Holman Correctional Facility, locked in a six-by-eight-foot cage, his own personal tomb. Keith had the perfect plan for Tyler, but the old man needed to come first.
Back in the moment, Keith lifted his hip and reached into his rear pocket. He pulled out the jewelry store receipt from his wallet and smoothed it on the table. He read the signature under the itemized purchases. “George Wasserman, huh? Well, George, I guess tomorrow isn’t going to be your best day, but I’ll be as happy as a clam.”
Keith chuckled as he rose from the table and slipped on his winter jacket. He flipped the switch to the spotlight that illuminated most of the backyard, and he peered out the patio doors. “Not quite bright enough.” He returned to the kitchen and knelt at the cabinet beneath the sink. He pulled out the flashlight, opened the sliders, and headed outside. He crossed the yard to that spot, long forgotten until that moment. “Yeah, with a little work, this will be perfect.”
Back in the house, he locked the door behind him and turned off the light. Keith glanced at the clock before going upstairs—3:06 a.m. He needed sleep so he’d be at his best in the morning. Tomorrow would be a busy day.
Chapter 18
He woke to the same sound he’d heard every morning—the damn dogs. Even though they were nearly a half mile to his north and across the stream, their barking echoed throughout the countryside. No alarm clock was needed in Keith’s house. Their frantic yelps meant it had to be seven o’clock. That was when the mutts were fed breakfast.
That’s just great—less than four hours of sleep. One of these days, I’m going to feed that owner to those dogs. It’ll be poetic justice for caging them and treating them like shit all these years.
With a groan, Keith threw off the blanket and sat on the edge of the bed. He jammed his fists in his eyes and gave them a thorough rub. He pushed off the bed and hit the bathroom.
Downstairs thirty minutes later, he started the coffee and opened the refrigerator. He pulled out the half loaf of bread and the peanut butter. He popped two slices into the toaster, smeared the toasted bread with peanut butter, and poured himself a cup of coffee. He’d have to get groceries sooner or later.
At the table, Keith took a seat and looked at the list he’d revised last night. It still made sense. He’d head to Milwaukee at nine fifteen, after the morning rush hour had died down. The gold store didn’t open until ten o’clock, and he wanted to be the first, and last, customer through the door.
Keith pulled up the street view of the gold store on his computer. He looked for the nearest police station, just in case. It was twelve blocks away.
That isn’t bad considering they’re all city streets. I don’t intend on any alarms going off, though.
He opened a new search—how to spot fake security cameras and how to disable alarm systems. He had an hour before he had to leave. It was time for a quick course in pulling off a jewelry store heist and getting away scot-free.
Chapter 19
After we were seated in the conference room, Jack addressed us. “Morning, everyone.”
I took in Jack’s appearance as he stood at the head of the table. His eyes looked as bloodshot as mine felt, and I doubted that any of us got a good night’s sleep. After discussing our cases in the past, I knew that during an open investigation, none of us slept well. I wasn’t the only one who had a constant gerbil spinning around in their brain.
“I spoke with Lena this morning. Leslie McDonald’s autopsy is complete, and the final report is right here.” Jack tapped the folder lying on the table in front of him. “Leslie suffered a broken nose and left jaw. I imagine those blows subdued her long enough for him to bind her wrists and ankles. We have no way of telling if she was conscious or not during the actual strangulation. Her height and weight are listed on the report, as well as her blood type. Blood evidence was found near the entryway and in the bedroom. Both samples proved to be Leslie’s.”
I spoke up. “Meaning the intruder didn’t injure himself during the attack.”
Jack nodded. “Exactly.” He looked down at the report again. “Her stomach contents were only breakfast food, which would be expected. All in all, according to the timeline, the killer was in and out in less than thirty minutes. Nothing appeared to be taken, according to what Tracy said. That’s telling us the killing was one hundred percent about Leslie, nothing more. It wasn’t meant as an easy target against an older, single, and vulnerable woman.”
Clayton spoke up. “So, do we have enough for a profile?”
“Only a vague one, I’m afraid. Without a car type, a sighting, or a motive, we’re going at this blind.”
Kate added her two cents. “Let’s start with what we already know. The man is obviously smart and thinks things through. He didn’t bring along a murder weapon, so no worry of leaving one behind. He used what was already in the house, but that in itself is telling us something. Anybody who just wanted to kill Leslie could have beaten her to death right in the foyer. If we find out what the knotted blouses mean, we may find our killer.”
Jack turned to the whiteboard at his back and began writing. “What else, anybody?”
I took my turn. “He has to be strong in order to lift her weight high enough and long enough to pull on the noose until she died. That would eliminate anyone over, what?” I looked at my colleagues.
“Sixty at the most,” Clayton said.
“Good, keep going.” Jack wrote down the maximum age.
Billings added, “He has bravado and doesn’t mind taking risks, yet he’s careful not to be noticed. The roses served two purposes. The first was to act as a prop in case anyone was watching from a neighboring window, and the second was to alleviate Leslie’s suspicion when she opened the door. Who wouldn’t be happy to
have a bouquet of flowers delivered? The pleasant surprise on her part was enough of a distraction to give him time to step in and overpower her.”
I shuddered. “Just the thought of the fear she must have felt. Being completely alone with that madman had to be horrific.”
“That’s why we need to find him as soon as possible. We have no idea if she was the only person targeted or if he has more people in mind. I want all of you to focus on her old cases. Make calls and interview the coworkers she had when she was a forensic psychiatrist. See if anyone can remember threats against her personally or against the practice. I’m going downstairs to see if Kyle and Dan pulled prints from the house or that letter.”
Billings spoke up as we were about to walk out. “Boss, I didn’t notice any of the deputies sweeping the street yesterday for clues. They did the knock and talks, but did anyone search for evidence along the curb?”
“They did that afternoon and came up with nothing. It makes sense now that none of the neighbors or the mailman saw anyone. The killer was watching from some other location until the coast was clear. That’s when he swooped in. Let’s get this round of work done and then start on a new approach. We need something to give to the media. With what we have now, nearly every male in the county who’s under sixty could be a suspect.”
Chapter 20
Keith carried the same jewelry case from the day before to his car. A wire snips was safely tucked in his left coat pocket and would be needed once he got to the store. He placed the case on the passenger seat, rounded his Lexus, and drove away. He would arrive at the gold store a few minutes early, do what needed to be done outside, then enter the building. He had plenty to show old man Wasserman.
As he drove, he visualized how it would go down. He was confident he could pull it off and get away with it too. A safe filled with cash was likely in the back, and likely locked, but the valuable merchandise in the showcases would hold him over for a while. There was probably a few hundred bucks in the register too.
Keith reached the store at 9:48 a.m. One car sat in the lot—the same one as yesterday, and it belonged to the old man. Keith circled the block to find the best exit then returned to the store. He pulled into the alley and parked alongside the dumpster next to the back door. From that location, he’d have a straight shot out and could turn on any side street off the alley and disappear.
He noticed the electrical box on the back wall of the building, and he’d keep that in mind in case he had to disable the power for some reason. For now, he needed to locate the alarm system box. He peeked around the east wall and then the west. There it was, on the west side of the building.
Keith checked his surroundings. A brick wall separated that property from the next—a perfect situation. Nobody could see what he was about to do. Keith opened the box and pulled the wire snips out of his pocket. He had no idea if the system was active or not, but he wasn’t about to chance it. He cut the wires and listened. Nothing happened, and no alarms sounded. He closed the box and returned to his car. Keith opened the passenger door, pulled out the case, shut the door, and pressed the fob twice. The door locks went down. He rounded the building and checked the time on his watch before entering—10:07. All was quiet, and still only one car was in the lot. He sucked in a deep breath and opened the door.
Keith gave the cameras a quick look. Still no red flashing lights, a good indication that they’d probably never been activated, anyway. He took in another breath and looked to his left—no George.
He must be doing something in the back.
That gave Keith just enough time to pull the plug on the Open sign and pull down the shade that faced the street. Seconds later, he called out George’s name.
The old man appeared from the back room. “Hello again. I didn’t hear you come in. I was hoping you’d be back.” George tipped his head at the case and grinned. “It looks like we have more jewelry to go through today.”
Keith mirrored the old man’s smile. “We sure do. I’m really intrigued by the online auctions your son does. Do you think he’d ever need help with that?”
George shrugged. “I can call him and ask.”
“Let’s take care of business first. That can wait.”
“Sure thing. You never did tell me your name yesterday.”
“Sorry about that. It’s Larry, Larry Grimes.”
George stuck out his hand and shook Keith’s. “It sure is nice doing business with you, Larry. Okay, open the case. Let’s see what you’re going to surprise me with today.”
Keith lifted the case to the counter and unlatched it. He turned it toward George. The smile that covered the old man’s face quickly changed to confusion.
“I don’t understand. What’s this?”
Keith turned the case back toward him and looked in. “It’s a hammer, George.” He pulled it out and slammed the old man over the head with it. Blood ran down George’s face.
George stumbled backward and tried to grab the phone, but Keith was around the counter in two seconds. He pulled the knife from his pocket and plunged it into George’s gut then gave it a hard, deep twist. He yanked it out and jammed it in again. Blood poured from George’s wounds and pooled on the floor around his feet. He slipped in his own blood as Keith gave the knife a final plunge to George’s heart. Their eyes met for a second, then the old man slumped to the floor and took his last breath.
Keith ran to the front door, turned the lock, and pulled down the rest of the blinds. He snatched the hammer off the counter and began smashing every showcase in the room. He didn’t have time to waste. He scooped up everything he could manage then emptied the cash register. With the jewelry, cash, and hammer in the case, he snapped it closed and headed to the back room. In a moment of clarity, Keith turned back and grabbed the inventory log book from behind the counter. He put it in his case and continued on. The safe had to be in the back room somewhere. It took only a minute to find it, hidden within the cleaning supplies in the utility closet. He gave the handle a hard jerk, but it wouldn’t budge. Keith looked around one last time before sprinting to the alley. The surveillance equipment sat on a shelf to his left. He ripped out the tape and ran for the back door. Within seconds, he was gone.
Chapter 21
Jack entered the bull pen just before noon. He had been downstairs for more than an hour. “Okay, everyone, listen up.” He had our attention. Jack took a seat on Clayton’s guest chair. “Forensics was able to pull some prints from the rose leaves, of all places. Guess being gloved while handling them slipped the killer’s mind.” He sighed. “Either way, they weren’t in the system.”
A group moan sounded from all of us.
“It would sure be easier if we were dealing with a known felon,” I said sarcastically.
Jack checked our expressions. “Anything from the coworkers?”
“Nothing helpful,” Kate said. “Leslie had been retired for five years and worked at that facility for twenty. Over the course of her career, she wrote hundreds of reports and recommendations, plus gave expert testimony on dozens of court cases. From the people I spoke with, there was never anyone who stood out as a threat in their minds. To be honest, the current employees at that facility seemed like they were of a younger generation. According to their responses, it didn’t sound like any of them have hit the ten-year mark yet. They don’t remember much about Leslie’s cases at all.”
“What about the retired coworkers or even the archived files?”
“What I was told, sir, is that every closed case file over seven years old gets destroyed.”
Billings spoke up. “I did follow up with some of the old-timers. None of them could recall receiving threats aimed at the clinic or any psychiatrist during their employment there.”
“All right, let’s move on.” Jack opened the folder that had been sitting on the desk since he took a seat. “I had Dan print out a bird’s-eye view of Leslie’s home and a mile radius around it. Nobody, even with a good set of binoculars, would see anythin
g well enough beyond that.” He set the printout on Clayton’s desk and had us gather around. “With the tree cover and houses, I don’t see where anyone would get a good look other than on her street.”
“We’re looking from above, though. At ground level, the trees wouldn’t be blocking much of anything.” Clayton tapped the sheet. “Which is Leslie’s house?”
Jack pointed at the rooftop of the home at the first curve. “That one is hers.”
“Okay, there’s only one way in and one way out, so the golf course would be the logical choice. The backyards on Leslie’s side of the street face the fairways. The course is fifty yards behind the homes, and at this time of year, nobody is golfing. It could be the perfect place to spy from.”
Jack waved his hand toward the door. “Billings and Clayton, head over there and see what you can find. Measure the driving distance to Leslie’s house from the golf course too. Ask around. The course might not be open this time of year, but I’m sure the bar and grill and clubhouse are.” The guys left moments later, and Jack turned to us. “Have we missed anything on our to-do list?”
I spoke for both of us. “I don’t think so, sir.”
“Okay, then head out. Eat your lunch as you drive.”
Kate looked perplexed. “Where are we going?”
“To the county park behind Friends for Life. I’ve reviewed your camera surveillance, and many of those dogs look sickly. You’ve captured footage of ones with scars, and the question is, if they’re all caged individually, why would they have scars at all?”
“Outside playtime turned rough?” I suggested.
“Possibly, but you have until one o’clock to do some snooping. Make it worth your while but stay out of sight. Do not—and I repeat, do not—enter any building.”
“We can’t, anyway. Remember, the stream separates the properties.”