by C. M. Sutter
“Well, Leslie’s workplace was in Milwaukee, so we just assumed most of her caseload was there as well.”
“True, go on.”
“We need to know how long Tyler Rauch lived in Washburn County and where he worked before Gold Star Ambulance Service. Maybe he’s from Milwaukee too. They could have even been neighbors.”
We turned at the sound of the beeps from the security keypad at our door. Jan Seymore from the front desk and dispatch cubicle popped in. “Lieutenant? Mrs. Rauch is back, and she’s a mess. Should I show her in?”
Jack raised his brows and looked confused. “Yes, right away, and have all my calls rerouted to Clayton’s phone until I tell you otherwise.” Jack waited at the security door for Mary Rauch to appear. When she did, he ushered her into his office.
“What the hell? Did you see how swollen and red her eyes were?” I said. “Something more has happened since Jack asked her about the blood type.”
We stared through the glass wall and saw her remove a set of keys and an envelope from her purse. She slid them across Jack’s desk.
“Crap, another envelope.” Kate went to the cabinet at the back of the room. She was already reading Jack’s thoughts. She took the glove dispenser out and walked it across the bull pen to Jack’s door. She held it up to the glass wall, and he waved her in. “Here you go, sir.” Kate turned and closed the door behind her.
“Damn, you’re good,” Billings said.
Clayton’s phone rang as we stared at Jack while he spoke with Mary Rauch. He picked up and spoke to the person on the other end. “Yes, definitely, I’ll take care of it, and tell Steve we appreciate his and Yolo’s assistance.” Clayton ended the call. “They didn’t find anything more at the scene. Under the circumstances”—he tipped his head toward Jack’s office—“I think we should have the Tundra towed into the forensic garage for further evaluation.” He made the call downstairs then hung up. “Dan said he’d take care of it.”
We turned our attention to Mary, whose face was buried in her hands. I assumed Jack had told her about our discovery on the ditch side of the truck. Minutes later, he walked her out.
“Grab everything you have about this case and head to the conference room,” Jack said when he returned. “I’ll be right there.”
I passed my notes to Kate. “I’ll start the coffee.”
Chapter 28
Everyone was gathered around the table when I entered. “Sorry, I thought we could all use some coffee. Give me just a second to grab the cups.” I was back within a minute and took my usual seat.
Jack waited as Kate filled a cup for each of us. He gave us a thank-you nod then put a fist over his mouth as he cleared his throat. “Before we get started, I want to say that Mrs. Rauch confirmed that Tyler has worked in Washburn County since he got out of paramedic school, nearly fifteen years ago. He began his career as a first responder and then as an EMT paramedic. That means Leslie’s and Tyler’s paths could have crossed, and we’ll get to that later. Mary’s latest visit is first and foremost on our agenda. She gave me an extra set of keys for Tyler’s truck and permission to go through it for clues.”
Clayton spoke up. “Boss, I’ve already put the order in to have the truck picked up. Supposedly there’s a thunderstorm heading our way, and we should preserve whatever evidence may be on the vehicle. Also, Patrol and Steve found nothing more at the scene.”
“Thanks, Chad. I’ll take the keys down to the garage in a bit.” Jack let out a deep breath and stretched. “Okay, I’m sure you all noticed that Mary Rauch passed an envelope across my desk. She said it arrived in the mail thirty minutes before she got here.” Jack tipped his head toward the cabinet behind Billings. “Adam, would you mind pulling out the glove box?”
“Yes, sir.” Adam placed it on the table.
“Go ahead and glove up. I’ll pass the envelope around. I made copies of this new letter for each of you. I believe everyone has their own copy of Leslie’s.” Jack opened his folder and pulled out the copy of the letter sent to Leslie McDonald’s house. He smoothed it on the table and set his copy of the latest letter next to it. We did the same. The envelope made it around the table to each of us then back to Jack, who placed it in the evidence bag with the original letter. “The only differences—other than who the envelopes were addressed to—was the postmark.”
“This one came from Nashville,” I said. “It’s obvious that one person can’t be in two places at the same time. He can’t mail letters from other states and commit the crimes here too. Do you think he has an accomplice?”
Jack shook his head. “I’d have said he had somebody write and mail the letters from each city until I saw the penmanship—it’s identical on both. The same person penned those threats.”
“He could have written them and sent them to somebody to mail on his behalf. Hell, he could have had the letters stamped and addressed within another envelope he mailed to the people in Nashville and Montgomery. Once they received the outer envelopes, they’d only have to remove the stamped and addressed envelopes inside and drop them in a mailbox. The perp may have paid people to send them off. The recipient in each state would remain guilt free by only having to mail the inner envelope. They’d have no idea what was written on the letter,” Clayton said.
“Or—”
We turned our attention to Kate. Jack nodded.
“What if he was doing everything himself? He could be mailing them while traveling.”
“Hmm, not a bad idea, Kate. He wouldn’t have to get anyone else involved.” Jack pulled out both evidence bags and opened them again. He slid the envelopes out and checked the date of the postmark. “Write this down.”
We had our pens and paper ready.
“The letter from Montgomery was mailed on Saturday, and the letter from Nashville was postmarked on Monday. Today is Wednesday.” Jack scratched his head. “The math doesn’t work, because Leslie was killed on Monday.”
I pressed my temples. “Wait! The math does work. The letter was postmarked on Monday, but in reality that doesn’t mean anything. Mail doesn’t move on Sundays, meaning he could have dropped off that letter any time once he reached Nashville, then continued driving.” I pulled out my phone and talked into the microphone, asking for the driving distance from Nashville to North Bend. It was just over six hundred miles or a tad over nine hours on the road. “Totally doable. He could have left Nashville sometime Saturday and still had plenty of time to be back in Washburn County to commit Leslie’s murder at ten thirty Monday morning.”
Jack blew on his coffee. “You’re right, Amber. The person mailing these letters is trying to throw us off by making it appear that there are two perpetrators. In reality, he’s probably working alone. The question is, where was he prior to traveling north, and where is he staying now that he’s here?”
Chapter 29
Keith turned on the afternoon news. A breaking weather report updated the viewers about a late-fall thunderstorm approaching the area. Damaging winds could affect several counties. The radar screen showed a wide area of deep purple covering four counties and heading east. Keith looked out at the afternoon sky. Dark-gray clouds were moving into the area fast, and the wind was picking up significantly.
“Damn it, I haven’t gotten around to putting the dirt and grass over the vault.”
Keith had spent most of the day sorting jewelry. Everything was placed in individual bowls. Gold, separated by karat purity, went in three bowls, and the silver was placed in its own. Pieces with semiprecious stones and diamonds went on plates. Watches were separated by brand, and the antique jewelry was placed in a shoebox.
Keith turned up the volume and kept a watchful eye on the television as he worked. He was interested in seeing if there would be any coverage on poor old George that day. He hadn’t seen anything on television about him last night.
The least you could do is a short piece on him. The old guy and his store were a neighborhood landmark for forty years. At least, that’s what Georg
e told me while I was planning his demise.
Keith’s ears perked when the name George Wasserman was mentioned. “Here we go.” He walked into the living room and took a seat on the ottoman, three feet from the TV screen. An interview was under way with the son, Mark Wasserman. He told the story of his father and the well-known store, beginning when Mark was a child. “My pop was loved by everyone, and he had so many loyal customers. Why would anybody do something so heinous to a man as trusting as him? My father is gone, his merchandise is gone, and so are all the consignment pieces. My apologies go out to everyone in our community who was affected by my father’s brutal murder.”
The camera went back to the reporter. “So far the police are stumped. The store’s camera equipment, unfortunately, was never activated, and no eyewitnesses have come forward. Please call the number at the bottom of the screen if you have any information about this senseless crime.”
Keith smirked. “I don’t think it was senseless.” He smiled as he looked over his shoulder at the bowls of jewelry on the table. “Having money makes perfect sense to me.” He clicked off the TV and returned to the kitchen. He would take some pieces to pawn shops in other towns, and some pieces he’d sell online. Little by little, the jewelry sales would help keep him afloat. He sat at the table again and pulled the sheet of paper closer. “Let’s see. What can I come up with for the next victim on my list?” He crossed off Tyler’s name and began plotting his next attack.
Chapter 30
Jack pushed back his chair and stood. He turned and pulled down the United States roller map attached to the back wall. “Okay, the first letter was sent from Montgomery, Alabama.” He stuck a red pushpin in the city’s name. “The next was sent from Nashville.” He repeated the process. He stared at the map and scratched his chin. “That doesn’t give us much to work with.”
I spoke up. “Sure it does. Let’s go with the south-to-north route according to when the letters were postmarked. Interstate 65 goes through both cities and continues on to Gary, Indiana, where it ends. The other major cities it passes through are Louisville, Kentucky, and Indianapolis. It appears that he’s sending the letters as he’s traveling north. So, was he leaving his home in Alabama and going north or leaving whatever took him to Alabama and driving back home to Wisconsin?”
Kate took a swallow of coffee then added her opinion. “Think about it. He’s already killed Leslie and possibly Tyler. We need to find out what the connection is between the three of them. I’d say he lives in Wisconsin. He has a home base here somewhere, but what took him to Alabama?”
“And why the letters at all? It looks like he intended to kill these people, anyway,” Billings said.
Jack spoke up. “He’s taunting them. The letters went to different people from different states. Why would anyone think they were from the same person? They wouldn’t even know somebody else was sent one. He’s trying to instill fear in his victims, but he’s jumping the gun. Neither Leslie nor Tyler had even opened the letters before he attacked them.”
“So he’s in a hurry?” I asked.
Jack turned toward me. “Possibly, but we may never know why unless we catch him. At this point, we don’t even know if Tyler Rauch is dead.”
“Do you want us to head back to the ambulance company? They said there are two cameras that face their parking lot,” Clayton said.
“Yeah, go ahead. At this point we have nothing else. Who knows, we might get lucky and see that black sedan lurking around. Speaking of that, we need to put something together for the press. A black car and our idea of this guy’s age and build are better than nothing. Kate, call Tracy McDonald again and see if her mother knew anyone in Nashville. Also ask her if the name Tyler Rauch rings a bell. That’s it for now.” Jack gathered his papers and slid them into the folder. “I’ll run these keys downstairs and show the latest letter and envelope to Forensics.”
We returned to the bull pen minutes later. Clayton and Billings headed out, Kate was on the phone with Tracy, and I twiddled my thumbs. I opened my folder and, for the fifth time, began reviewing everything we knew. The list was short. An idea sprang to mind. The only thing we had inquired about was Leslie’s case files and expert testimonies in Milwaukee because that was where she lived and worked.
Oh my God, we’ve had our blinders on all this time. As an expert in her field, she could have testified anywhere, like in Alabama, Nashville, or even here in Washburn County.
If Tyler had never worked outside of Washburn County and he and Leslie were targeted specifically, then the connection had to be something that happened in our own county and under our own noses.
The door opened at my back, and Jack walked through. “Boss, I have an angle to check out.”
“Sure, let’s hear it.”
Kate scooted her chair over to my desk and listened in as well. She had just gotten off the phone with Tracy, who said Tyler’s name didn’t ring a bell with her. As far as she knew, Leslie didn’t have any acquaintances in Nashville or anywhere else in Tennessee.
I waited until I had their full attention before beginning. “Okay, we checked out what we could on Leslie’s client list and case files during her years working in Milwaukee. Everything over seven years since her retirement had already been destroyed. So that’s actually dating back twelve years from now.”
“Correct,” Jack said.
“What we didn’t think of was, as an expert in her field, no different than any other specialist, Leslie could have been called in to testify on any case, anywhere. It doesn’t necessarily mean she was the doctor for anybody specifically. She could have been called in to give expert testimony in Montgomery, in Nashville, or even in Washburn County. I’m leaning toward the latter because of Tyler. Maybe that’s the connection. She and Tyler both gave expert testimony in a case here in our town. Tyler could have been the first person on the scene of a horrible car accident that some whack job caused. Leslie could have given her opinion about that person’s state of mind. See where I’m going with this?”
Jack nodded enthusiastically. “That might be exactly what this is about. Whoever caused some kind of accident could have ended up in prison because of expert testimony at their trial. Now that he’s been released, he may be coming after people involved to seek his revenge.” Jack rubbed his temples.
“What are you thinking, boss?” I asked.
“I don’t know. It feels like we’re missing something even though that scenario makes perfect sense. I called Montgomery PD, and they told me they didn’t have any unsolved murder cases or a killer at large. I didn’t ask about recently released prisoners, though. That could be the connection with Alabama, a starting point and heading north.”
“What about old case files here at the courthouse?” Kate asked. “How long are they kept?”
“I’m not sure. They’re either destroyed or archived, but I want both of you over there now to find out. You have to go back at least five years, when Leslie was still working. Tyler has been employed at Gold Star for six years, so a case involving both of them could have been further back than that, maybe when he was a first responder.” Jack jerked his head toward the door. “Go ahead and begin by asking how long they keep files from criminal court cases. Work your way through the system and see if Leslie’s name pops up anywhere. Meanwhile, I’ll call Montgomery PD again and find out where the nearest prison is. I’ll try to get a contact name. Hopefully they’ll share information about their most recently released inmates.”
Kate and I left the bull pen. Normally we’d take the sidewalk to the courthouse, which was right around the corner from our building, but the rain had started and was getting heavier by the minute. We each grabbed a rain slicker from the supply room and made a run for the cruiser. At the courthouse, I parked as close as I could to the side doors, and we ran to the building.
“Watch your step,” I said as we walked the marble floor with our wet, slippery shoes.
We took the elevator to the second floor, where the a
rchives and records department was located. Inside the room, several people stood in line ahead of us. We’d have to wait our turn.
“Next in line.”
“That’s us,” I said as we approached the counter.
“How can I help you officers?”
The clerk was direct and to the point. She pursed her lips and waited for our response. I was sure she thought we were expecting preferential treatment, and she wasn’t about to give it to us. I changed my mind. There was no need to smile at her after all. I sighed before speaking. “We need information about an old court case. How far back are the files saved?”
“Since the old courthouse opened.”
I stared at her and felt my mouth drop as if my jaw hinge let loose. “You can’t be serious. That courthouse opened in 1890.”
“Nice work. You know your history.” She pointed at the third door on the right. “Go in there. All court transcripts are filed by year and case number. Once you find what you need, you can order the digital recordings.”
“How else are they accessed?” Kate asked.
“I don’t understand your question.” Her beady eyes pierced a hole through Kate.
I took over. “We don’t have a date or case number. Is there any other way to access old court files?”
“Of course there is.” She smiled, and I was relieved. “Go through the transcripts manually. Next in line.”
I gave her my best sneer as we walked away. “Let’s do some quick mental math then begin searching the records.” I pointed at a grouping of chairs. “Come on. Let’s sit for a minute and figure this out.” All that was left were two seats near the west window. The rain pelted the glass. I looked out before sitting but couldn’t see anything. “Good thing we searched around Tyler’s truck before this storm hit. A couple hours later and the blood would have been completely washed away.” I took a seat with Kate across from me. “Okay, so Tyler has only been working for fifteen years in total, and Leslie has been retired for five years. That means if there’s any chance of them ever being called in as witnesses on the same case, it would had to have happened sometime between 2003 and 2013. That’s correct, isn’t it?”