Cold Case at Carlton's Canyon

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Cold Case at Carlton's Canyon Page 17

by Rita Herron

Finally the shower turned off, a relief as it was much too tempting to think of Justin naked in there alone. When he entered the kitchen, his hair was damp, and he looked sexy as hell.

  God help her. She was seriously falling for him.

  His dark gaze met hers, stirring erotic memories of the night before. His jaw tightened as he glanced at the table, and she suddenly wanted to forget breakfast and make love on the table.

  He cleared his throat, hunger flaring in his eyes as if he’d read her thoughts. But the look faded and his professional mask fell back over his chiseled face.

  “Thanks,” he said. “I’m starving.”

  So was she. But not for food.

  Still, she kept that comment to herself. Couldn’t invite more personal interaction today. They had to finish this case.

  So she handed him a mug of coffee and set their plates on the table. Still, the ordinary routine felt intimate, his masculine body taking up all the air in the room.

  He wolfed his food down, then studied her while he sipped his coffee. “I’m going to question Bernadette, make sure we tie up details while you hold the press conference.”

  His statement made her refocus. “I’ve been thinking about that,” she said. “Maybe I should postpone and go with you. We need to find out what she did with Lynn and Julie.”

  He shook his head. “No, go ahead with the meeting. The town has to be up in arms now and panicking. Talking to them is the right move. But I wouldn’t reveal Bernadette’s name.”

  “I don’t plan to,” she said. “But I do want to urge people to come forward if they have any information.” She stood, carried her dishes to the sink and rinsed them.

  “I’ll clean up while you shower,” Justin offered.

  Unaccustomed to having a man in her kitchen, she rushed to the bedroom to get ready for the day. After the conference, a family picnic was scheduled to jumpstart the reunion.

  She wanted to be there and study the group just in case they were wrong about Bernadette.

  Hopefully Lynn and Julie would show up safe and sound.

  As soon as she finished showering and dressing, she phoned her deputy to check on Bernadette.

  “She slept like the dead all night.”

  “Sergeant Thorpe will be there soon to talk to her. When he arrives, go home and get some rest. I’m heading to the office to hold a press conference with the mayor.”

  An hour later, she stood with the mayor in front of the county courthouse and greeted the media. Reporters immediately hurled questions at her.

  “What’s happening in Sunset Mesa?”

  “Did you find the missing girls?”

  “Is this a serial killer?”

  Amanda held up her hand in the universal signal for them to hold the questions. “At this point, we do believe that the disappearance of several women from this town and neighboring counties is related. The bodies of three victims have recently been found—Tina Grimes, Kelly Lambert and Suzy Turner. Police believe that they were kidnapped and murdered by the same perpetrator and that the upcoming ten-year class reunion at Canyon High triggered the perpetrator to escalate.”

  Hands shot up, but she waved them off and continued. “We do have a suspect in custody although I’m not at liberty to disclose the name yet as we’re still investigating. That said, there are still other women missing at this time. If you have any information regarding the whereabouts of Lynn Faust and Julie Kane, please call my office immediately.”

  “How were the women murdered?” someone shouted.

  “Do you think Lynn Faust and Julie Kane are dead?”

  Amanda gritted her teeth. “As I said, if anyone has any information, please call my office immediately.”

  She glanced at the mayor and turned to duck inside so he could smooth ruffled feathers, but another shout echoed behind her.

  “What if you have the wrong person? What if the women in town are still in danger?”

  Amanda slowly turned around to see who’d voiced the question and frowned at the sight of Kelly Lambert’s maid of honor, Betty Jacobs. “Are we still in danger, Sheriff?”

  Amanda wanted to tell the young woman no, that she was sure they had the right perpetrator. But she couldn’t lie. And if she assured the residents and her former classmates they were safe and another woman was abducted, it would be her fault.

  “All I can say is that we have a suspect in custody. Until we confirm that this person is the one we’ve been looking for, I would urge all the women in town to be on guard. Travel in pairs and don’t trust anyone.”

  * * *

  JUSTIN BROUGHT A mini recorder in with him to see Bernadette. The deputy sheriff met him at the hospital room door.

  “I talked to Sheriff Blair and told her the suspect has been asleep all night.”

  “She didn’t wake and say anything? Talk in her sleep?”

  The deputy shook his head. “They must have given her some heavy-duty drugs. Not a peep all night.”

  “Thanks. I’ll handle it now.”

  The deputy left, and Justin stepped inside and closed the door. He walked over to the bed and studied Bernadette. Granted, she had suffered emotional problems and had killed her aunt’s cat, but was she a serial murderer?

  Considering her emotional issues, did she have the organizational skills and patience to wait months before abductions and to commit this many crimes without being caught?

  He touched her hand. “Bernadette, it’s time to wake up and talk.”

  Her eyes suddenly popped open as if she’d been faking sleep. They looked cloudy, hazed with drugs, but the same sinister smile he’d seen the night before stretched across her face.

  “Talk to me,” he said in a low voice. “You came back to town for the reunion to show off your new face, didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” she murmured. “But do you think those bitches cared?”

  “But you cared, didn’t you? You’ve been angry since high school. You decided to start taking your revenge out on them ten years ago.”

  Bernadette reached for the water on the steel table beside the bed, and he handed it to her. She took a long sip, then laid her head back down.

  “They should have noticed,” she said. “Should have let me stay at that inn. But they thought they owned the school, and now they think they own the town.”

  “That’s wrong,” he said. “I understand why you’re upset. They hurt you ten years ago and now they’re still doing it.”

  “I wasn’t the only one,” Bernadette said. “There were others. The geeks like me. Like Carlton Butts. You know he killed himself because of them.”

  “Yes, I heard that. But you decided to fix yourself and to make them pay instead of committing suicide.”

  “They’re not worth dying for.”

  “But they deserved to die. You said that.”

  “Yes, they deserved to die.”

  “So you practiced killing with your aunt’s cats?”

  Bernadette’s eyes widened. “You talked to that mean old hag?”

  “You hated your aunt, didn’t you? Like everyone else, she abandoned you.”

  “She loved those damn cats more than she did me. She threw me out, but she kept taking in those mangy strays. They pissed all over the place. Her trailer smelled like garbage and cat urine, but she chose that over me.”

  “She hurt you so badly that you killed one of her cats. Then the teens at school wronged you, so you retaliated by abducting and killing them one at a time.”

  Bernadette twisted sideways, clutching the sheet to her neck.

  “You can talk to me here or down at the station,” Justin said. “Either way, Bernadette, you have to tell me what happened. I’m on your side.”

  She pierced him with a look of rage. “You’re not on my side. No one is.”

  “I can stand up for you if you tell me what happened. Who was the first girl you abducted?”

  She looked down at her fingers where they were wrapped around the sheet. “I took them all,
made them suffer for what they did.”

  Suffer? She’d strangled them, but there was no evidence of torture or sexual assault. Or that the victims had been beaten.

  “How did you make them suffer?” he asked.

  She chuckled. “You know how. You found Kelly and Suzy.”

  “You humiliated them by leaving them in public places. But Tina’s body was found in a creek. What about Melanie and Avery and Carly and Denise? Why didn’t you leave their bodies for us to find?”

  “Because I had more on my list who had to pay.” A bitter laugh sounded. “And it was fun watching the police run in circles.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Who was the first one you took?”

  She shifted restlessly, then rubbed her temple as if she had to strain to think. “I don’t know, I get them all confused. It’s been a long time.”

  “Avery Portland, wasn’t it? Or was it Melanie Hoit?”

  A heartbeat passed and Bernadette breathed deeply. “Avery was supposed to be at the school dance.”

  “But she disappeared and no one heard from her again,” Justin said. “And Melanie?”

  “From the mall. She was a shopaholic. A rich daddy’s girl.” Her eyes hardened. “Everyone wanted to be like Melanie.”

  “What did you do with their bodies?”

  Bernadette looked him straight in the face then gave a small shrug. “I don’t remember.”

  “How did you kill them?”

  Her eyes darted sideways. “I told you I made them suffer.”

  “How? Did you beat them? Stab them? Torture them before you ended it?”

  “I choked them,” she said. “I watched them beg for another breath, but I took it away.” She snapped her fingers. “And just like that, they were gone. The world’s a better place without them.”

  “What about Gina Mazer? Where did you abduct her?”

  Bernadette pinched the bridge of her nose. “I told you I can’t remember them all. They were all alike, one blending into another.” Her eye began to twitch. “The stupid meds the doctor gave me...they make me forget.”

  Or maybe she wasn’t the killer. Because there was no one named Gina Mazer in the case files.

  “So now you’re ready to finish it,” he said quietly. “You’re ready to go public. You did all this for the glory, to prove something. You can’t do that, Bernadette, if you don’t let everyone know you’re responsible.”

  “Then tell them to take my picture and put it all over the news. Bernadette Willis finally gets payback for the abuse she suffered.”

  Justin hesitated. “Okay, but for the record, you have to tell me how you carried out the crimes.”

  “I told you I choked them.”

  “How?” Justin pressed. “With your hands? A scarf? A rope?”

  Bernadette began picking at her fingernails. “With a scarf. One I took from my aunt’s house. It smelled like cat urine. I wrapped it around their throats and squeezed it so hard they choked on the odor.”

  A hysterical laugh echoed from her, and Justin silently cursed.

  Either Bernadette was just plain crazy and wanted to taunt him with her sadistic games.

  Or...she hadn’t killed the women.

  Because the killer had used a man’s belt to strangle the victims. That was one detail they’d held back from the press.

  The one detail that only the police and the real killer knew.

  * * *

  THE POLICE HAD a suspect in custody. Some classmate of all the dead girls named Bernadette.

  Another one of the odd ducks in school. One those mean girls had picked on.

  Bernadette understood the reason they’d had to die.

  Maybe when this was over they could be friends.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Justin met Amanda at the reunion picnic, surprised she’d shown up wearing her uniform.

  “You trying to make a statement to your former classmates?”

  She shrugged. “Yes, that they’re safe. And that I’m on the job.”

  “Not here to mingle.”

  “Not here to mingle,” she said in a wry tone. They walked across the field by the lake. Dusk was setting, the ducks nibbling for food at the edge of the water, a breeze stirring the trees and whipping Amanda’s hair around her face.

  He wanted to reach up and tuck it behind her ear, but they were in public and he couldn’t touch her. Although he imagined making love to her again tonight and need speared him.

  Not a good idea, man. One night was just sex. Two could lead to something more, could mean she is getting in your head.

  And your heart.

  No one got into his heart.

  “What happened with Bernie?”

  Justin chewed the inside of his cheek. “I don’t know, Amanda. She wants credit for the crimes, but when I asked her about the details, there were discrepancies in her story.”

  Amanda paused by a tree and looked up at him, her eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “She claimed the drugs made her memory foggy. I threw in the name of a fake victim to test her. And she said she couldn’t remember all the names.”

  Amanda shaded her eyes with her hand as she scanned the picnic area and pavilion where her former classmates and their spouses and kids had gathered. Grills were heating up for burgers and hot dogs, and one of those bouncy houses had been set up for the kids, along with face painting, music and games.

  “It is possible that the medication messed with her memory,” Amanda said. “Of course that will make it harder to get a conviction unless we find other evidence to support her story.”

  And so far, they hadn’t. “When I asked her how she killed the girls, she said she choked them to death with a scarf.”

  Alarm flared in her eyes. “Not a belt?”

  “No.”

  She pursed her lips. “Maybe she’s trying to throw us off with the details because she still has plans for Saturday night.”

  “That’s possible. Either way, we have enough to hold her for twenty-four hours.”

  “She wouldn’t tell you where Julie and Lynn are?”

  He shook his head. “They haven’t turned up at the picnic?”

  “No. But I’ll keep watch.” She headed down the hill. “I guess I should canvass the crowd in case anyone’s heard from them.”

  Justin had a bad feeling that the women were dead.

  The question was—where were their bodies? And if Bernadette hadn’t murdered them, who had?

  * * *

  AMANDA THREADED HER way through the throng of classmates, listening to the normal chitchat about how much everyone had changed, or hadn’t, the questions about marriage and kids and jobs. She remained on the periphery, avoiding engaging in conversation, listening and hoping for information that might help with the case.

  Because if Bernadette wasn’t the murderer, one of her other classmates might be.

  Or was Bernadette just toying with them now? Dragging out the inevitable to make them wonder and throw suspicion off of herself?

  Two of Kelly Lambert’s bridesmaids cornered her by the sodas. “We saw the press conference,” Anise said. “You found the person who killed Kelly?”

  “Who was it?” Mona Pratt asked.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t divulge that information yet,” Amanda said.

  Anise touched her arm, her voice pleading. “But you’re sure you have him in jail?”

  “We think so,” Amanda said, then because these women might be in danger, added, “but until we have the evidence we need to confirm that we have the right person in custody, please be careful. This killer targeted our classmates. Watch your backs.”

  Worry darkened both women’s faces. “Is that why Julie and Lynn aren’t here?” Mona asked. “You think they’re dead, too?” Panic strained her high-pitched voice and several other people turned to her with questioning eyes.

  Amanda lowered her voice. “I don’t know, but if you hear from them, please call me.”

 
She moved to the edge of the crowd, feeling as out of place as she had ten years ago.

  But that feeling reminded her that the killer felt the same way. So she sipped her soda and watched the picnic—old friends reconnecting and rehashing memories, the couples introducing spouses and children, and the occasional whisper and somber expressions of sorrow and regret that several of the students at Canyon High had died or disappeared and were presumed dead.

  But as she studied the faces, she didn’t see anyone who looked suspicious. Carlton’s brother was there, laughing with a couple of guys he used to run track with. Donald Reisling sat in his wheelchair, although he wasn’t alone. Three of the former basketball players were crowded around him asking for financial advice, listening raptly to what Donald had to say.

  Raymond Fisher, the man who had been Kelly’s fiancé, had even shown up although he and Terry Sumter passed each other with mutinous glares.

  Then Renee cornered Raymond, hovering close, obviously consoling him for his loss.

  * * *

  WHEN JUSTIN AND Amanda left the picnic, they wanted to move Bernadette to the jail. But the doctor who’d treated her had called for a psych evaluation, and instead they transferred her to the psychiatric ward to stabilize her medication.

  While Justin called the crime lab to check on forensics and to ask if the tech team had found any leads on Julie’s and Lynn’s phones, Amanda called her deputy to ask him to stand guard by Bernie’s room again that night.

  Amanda didn’t know whether it was the meds or if Bernie had realized that she wasn’t going free and that, if she’d planned another murder for the big reunion Saturday night, that she wouldn’t get to follow through, but apparently she’d shut down again.

  When she and Justin arrived back at the sheriff’s office, Lynn Faust’s mother was waiting along with Julie Kane’s parents.

  “Where are our daughters?” Lynn’s mother cried.

  “You said you arrested someone. Where is he?” Mr. Kane demanded.

  Mrs. Kane swiped at tears. “Let us talk to him. Maybe he’ll tell us where our daughters are.”

  Lynn’s mother clutched her arm. “Please, Amanda, please find them. Lynn’s all I’ve got.”

  Emotions thickened Amanda’s throat. “We’re doing everything we can.”

 

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