by R. Jean Reid
“Not a time when rich white boys took a fall for girls who put out,” Nell said disgustedly.
“But here’s the real interesting part. Wendell hadn’t wanted anyone to find her around campus, so they drove all the way back to Pelican Bay. And dumped her body in the old well in the woods.”
“Where Rayburn Gautier was found.”
“Exactly,” Jacko confirmed.
“That’s very interesting. Think maybe the son heard about dear old dad’s ways and got ideas?”
“You think it’s Boyce?”
“I’d like to think it’s Boyce and Wendell. I wouldn’t mind seeing them both in jail. How solid is this story?”
“Enough to put on the front page,” Jacko replied, answering her question. “Most of this came up at the inquest, so it’s public record, although buried public record.”
“Maybe it won’t get him arrested. The statue of limitations may have passed. But it might make people buy their cars somewhere else,” Nell said.
“Wendell got his money early, his father died shortly after this incident, and his only brother was killed in an accident when they were teenagers. He seemed to have gone through most of the money by his late twenties, because that’s when he started the car dealership and had to actually work to earn his way.”
“What kind of accident?” Nell asked. “Could it have been not so accidental?”
“I couldn’t find out. It was brought out in what seemed to be a ploy to gain sympathy for Wendell. You know, ‘family tragedy, the only surviving son,’ that sort of thing.”
“That’s great work, Jacko. Ace research. What else is in that stack? Or is it all about Wendell?”
“I researched Sheriff Hickson but found nothing you wouldn’t expect. The usual campaign stories. Married his high school sweetheart. A few stories where he comes off as not the most enlightened being, but since you wrote most of those, they can’t be news to you.”
“No, they can’t. Too bad you didn’t find anything as interesting on him as you did on Mr. Jenkins.”
“In contrast, it seems that Chief Shaun is a remarkable hero. He solved a couple other baffling murders during his career. He was an only child and his parents died young.”
“That’s an interesting contrast. Maybe on next week’s front page we’ll do stories comparing the two of them.”
“Wish I could be here to see it,” Jacko said wistfully.
“Damn it, Jacko. I wish you could be, too.”
“This stack is my parting gift to you,” he said as he stood up. “It’s ‘hit the road, Jack’ time.”
“You’re leaving now?” Of course, he’s leaving now, Nell answered her question.
“I’m packed and ready to go. I want this to be one of the last things I do. Say goodbye to the Crier office.”
“I wish …” Nell started, but Jacko cut her off.
“Me, too.” Then he wrapped his arms around her and gave her a tight hug.
Nell returned it, not wanting to let him go. Then she did.
Jacko grabbed the bag that contained his person effects and turned to go. “Look out for Kate” were his parting words. Then he was out the door, leaving Nell alone with his empty desk and the final pile of reporting he’d left for her.
She resolutely picked up the stack of paper and took it to her office. She trusted Jacko, but she wanted to read it for herself. Besides, she’d have to write the story on Wendell Jenkins, and it seemed a fitting way to spend the remains of the day.
thirty-three
What a difference feminism makes, Nell thought as she finally looked up from the pages in front of her. Seen through that prism, what Wendell Jenkins had gotten away with became an ugly crime. But back in the sixties, when it had taken place, a privileged upper-class white boy wouldn’t go to jail for what would be considered a girl’s bad judgment.
Nell glanced out the window, surprised at how late it was. The sun had almost set; only a lingering evening light remained.
Time for me to get ready for my date, she reminded herself. But instead she glanced at the information that Jacko had gathered on Doug Shaun. In the last town where he’d worked, he’d solved the brutal murders of three members of the high school cheerleading team. It was some place in New Mexico; Nell didn’t recognize the name of the town.
Let’s hope he can solve Marion’s murder, she thought.
When she looked up from the sheet in front of her, Doug Shaun was standing in her doorway. She tried not to appear startled, but his quietness had once again taken her by surprise.
“Nell, I saw your car out back. Should you be here alone?”
“Why not? The Crier is in the middle of town. And most people can’t manage to be as quiet as you are.”
“Any word on the book? Is your friend willing to talk?”
“Yes, to both. She said anytime.”
“How about now? We get business over with and then have dinner.”
He was still in his dress uniform. Nell, now wearing a comfortable pair of jeans and a cotton sweater that used to be Thom’s, had intended to go home again to change for dinner.
“You’ve caught me in old jeans.”
“You look fine. I was thinking about a seafood place across the bay. It’s homey, but the food is great.”
“Okay. Let me close up shop here.”
Nell scooped up the pile Jacko had given her and put it in her briefcase. She could continue reading it tomorrow. Tonight she was going to be an adolescent girl struggling through her first official date in almost two decades instead of the intrepid girl reporter.
Doug waited patiently as Nell closed and locked up the office.
“I should drive my car home,” she suddenly said.
“We’ll get it later. Why don’t we take care of the book now and swing back by?”
Nell nodded and followed him to his car, a late-model red sports car.
“Where are we going?” Doug asked as they got in.
“To the bike shop. Kate Ryan and Marion were partners. Kate has the book,” Nell told him.
His cell phone jangled, and he started the car and answered it at the same time. “I’m in the area, I’ll run by and sign them now” was his end of the conversation. He put the phone away and said to her, “A detour. I have to run by the station for a few minutes.”
“I’m not starving yet,” Nell said.
They were there in another half minute. Doug left Nell in the car to take care of his business. She sat still for several minutes, then pulled the pile of papers out of her briefcase. If I’m dating the man, I might as well read about him, she thought.
Doug had also worked somewhere in Iowa. While he was there he’d solved another brutal murder—a farmer, his wife, and their four kids had been stripped and tied up in the snow to freeze to death. The killer had died in jail.
Nell quickly glanced at the next story. Doug Shaun had solved the serial murder of young children in the next town he’d worked in, in North Carolina. The first victim was a girl, the child of a poor single mother whose occupation was listed as waitress. The last one was the son of the mayor.
In that case, Doug Shaun had killed the murderer in self-defense. Pieces of the victim’s clothes were found in the killer’s house. He’d been a loner no one liked or trusted.
Nell was jerked away from her reading by the opening of the car door.
She watched Doug get in, the braid encircling his arm turning orange in the ginger-hued sodium lights.
A yellow circle around his arm.
What if it hadn’t been a shirt but braid that Rayburn was trying to draw?
The night of Marion’s murder, she’d tried to call Doug on his cell phone.
He started the car.
But she hadn’t been able to reach him. He’d been “out of service area”—just as she hadn
’t been able to get a signal when trying to call from the motel where it had happened.
“What are you reading?” he asked as he pulled out of the parking lot.
I’m leading him to Kate. And my son.
“Some research that Jacko was doing for me,” Nell answered.
“Research on what?”
If Doug Shaun killed Marion in an attempt to get the book, then he’ll kill Kate to get it, and to keep her from testifying about Marion. And if he kills Kate, he’ll have to kill me. And if Josh is there … no.
“Doug, I’m not feeling very well. I’m sorry. Maybe you’d better just take me home.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I was looking forward to this. Okay, I will, after we go by the bike shop.”
Nell sat silently for a moment. But he was driving towards Kate and Josh and she had to do something.
“If I’ve figured it out, others will,” she said in what she hoped was a calm voice.
“Figured what out?”
“You’ve had quite a string of successes, always being there to solve brutal murders. Always in small towns, where murder is … uncommon. I’m not a genius, Doug, but I’ve caught the pattern.”
He was silent, but the air had changed, as if his anger and hate was coming for Nell, a slimy cold that made her want to rub her palm on her pants to get it away. She held still, pretending she was in control of herself.
“No, you’re not a genius. If you were, you might have caught it in time.” His voice had changed, the monster no longer hidden in human form. “But you are very intelligent, more so than most people. I’m going to solve another hideous murder after tonight.”
“You’re insane,” Nell spat out, fighting the fear that was reaching into the bone.
For an answer, he grabbed her by the hair and shoved her face down into the console between the seats. “No, not insane. Just powerful. Very, very powerful.” He jammed her hair under his thigh to pin her down. Nell heard the soft snap of leather. His holster.
She struggled to sit up but felt the cold metal of his gun against her temple.
“Admit it, Nell, you like power. You like your editorial pen. I’m going to be very nice to you and give you a little of my power. You know Kate Ryan is going to die—there’s no way around that. And I know your son is with her. I saw him when I drove through that part of town. Bad timing. But he might be better off dead than an orphan.”
“Goddamn you!” Nell yelled, hoping someone might hear. But Doug Shaun shoved the barrel of the gun harder against her head, forcing her face against the stick shift.
“You get to choose, Nell. It can be quick. Or it can be slow. I’m going to give you that much power.”
The car stopped. They were at the bike shop. He’d blown through every stop sign.
“People will know we went out tonight,” Nell said. “Right now it’s my word against yours, but if you kill us—”
He overrode her. “I’ll call in a missing person report, that you and I were to meet but you never showed up. Don’t bother, Nell. I’ve thought of all the angles.”
Nell burst into motion, twisting away from his gun. Someone will see, will hear, out here on the street. If he fires the gun, they’ll hear. Even if I’m killed, it might save Josh and Kate.
But he was strong enough to not really need the gun. He grabbed her hair again and twisted it, pulling her head back.
“Remember, it’s your choice, Nell. Slowly or easily. Right now I’d say you’re making the wrong choice.”
Then he whispered to her the things he’d done to Rayburn Gautier, and to Joey Sayton and Tasha Jackson. The way he’d put duct tape over their mouths, their muffled screams as he’d watched the fear each moment brought.
“I’ll do that to Josh. Remember, it’s your choice” was how he ended his litany of horrors. Then he grabbed her by the shoulders and backed out of the car, dragging her out the driver’s door. His hand clamped over her mouth and he roughly pulled her to the shop entrance.
Daylight was gone, and the bike store, with its closed sign, invited no more business. Nell couldn’t turn her head to look around. It happened so quickly, this brief second when they could be seen from the street. But there was no one there to see them, and then he was shoving the door open and taking Nell behind the walls of the store.
“What’s going on?” Kate called out as she emerged from the back of the shop.
Nell twisted away, getting his hand off her mouth. “Run!” she shouted. “Get out!”
“Don’t move!” Doug Shaun countered. He threw Nell to the floor but kept a booted foot on her shoulder. “If you want your mother to live, Josh, you’d better come out.”
“Mom?”
Nell couldn’t see Josh, but she heard his questioning voice. Then he yelled “Let her alone” as he saw her on the floor.
“I said don’t move. Your mother will be okay if you just cooperate. I need to see that book, Kate.”
“Stay in the back, Josh,” Kate said.
“No, come out here where I can see you,” Doug countered. “Just get the book, Kate, and everything will be okay.”
“Let her get up. I’ll give you the book if you let Nell get up.”
He didn’t reply, but Nell felt the pressure of his boot lift. She rolled away from him and slowly stood.
He had the gun trained on Josh. He didn’t need to say anything; the threat was so heavy in the air.
“I’m getting the book,” Kate said. “It’s in my office.” Keeping her hands up to show that she wasn’t going for any weapon, she walked toward the desk in her office. Doug shifted so he could keep her in sight.
“Are women and children your specialty, Doug?” Nell asked. She hated the man, she realized—hated how much brutal power he had over them. Her fear twined the anger into a rage. If it was just her life at risk, she would throw herself at him, scratching and clawing, going for the eyes, the genitals, turn into a screaming virago. She wanted him bloody, bruised—dead.
“I vary my routine, but I’ve found that women and children get the most attention.”
“And that’s what you want? Attention? Like some little adolescent boy?”
He jerked his head to look at her, then caught himself and turned back to watching Kate. “Don’t push it, Nell. Remember our bargain.”
“You’re too insane for me to have any hope you’ll keep your end.”
“Not insane, Nell. Powerful. Don’t forget that. Hurry up, Kate,” he yelled. He kept his gun aimed at Josh as a reminder.
Nell didn’t dare look at her son; she couldn’t bear to see the terror on his face. I can’t let Shaun do this, she thought desperately. But all his other victims probably thought the same thing. As slowly as she could, Nell put her hand in her pocket, remembering the cell phone there. If she could punch in 911, maybe they would have a chance. Or maybe it would upset the chief’s plans enough that this time he wouldn’t be able to execute the perfect crime. She ran her fingers over the buttons.
Kate came back out of the office, holding the children’s book. It looked so out of place in a room with a man holding a gun on them. She slowly walked over to Doug, holding out the book.
He reached for it.
Kate only gave the barest of nods as warning. She suddenly lunged, putting herself between the gun and Josh, shoving the pointed edge of the book into his face.
The gun went off. Kate had to know he would kill her. She stumbled back, blood flowing from the wound.
Nell threw herself at him, screaming “Josh! Run! Get help!” She grabbed the gun hand, forcing the second shot meant for Kate to blast through the glass counter.
I hate you, you fucking bastard—will do anything I can to hurt you. Trying to control the gun with one hand, Nell used her other fist to pummel his face in the same place Kate had hit with the book. Nothing mattered except hurti
ng this man as much as she could and saving her son.
For a moment Doug Shaun was off balance, but then he recovered and grabbed her hair, jerking her head around. Nell kept fighting, telling herself that no pain could stop her. She brought her foot down as hard as she could on his instep. He grunted in pain and loosened his hold for a second, but then jerked her head back again.
“You can’t win, you bitch,” he hissed at her.
“Let her go,” Josh yelled, grabbing the arm that was tearing her hair out. Nell saw Josh sink his teeth into Doug’s wrist.
It became a macabre dance, Nell holding on to one arm, Josh the other, Doug twisting and turning to fling them off. Nell kicked again at his instep, knowing it wouldn’t stop him but wanting to do anything that she could to hurt him.
She’d tried to punch in 911 on her phone, but she had no idea if it had gotten through or, even if it had, if it would help. Cell phones didn’t give one’s exact location.
Then in her peripheral vision, Nell saw Kate trying to stand up. She wrenched Doug’s arm toward her to keep him from seeing her.
He twisted again and managed to shake Josh off. But Kate was standing now, with a big wrench in her hand. She swung at Doug, landing a blow on the back of his neck.
He cursed at her and the gun went off again. Nell had still managed to keep him from aiming at anyone, and the shot skittered across the floor.
Kate swung again, this time hitting him in the shoulder. He used his free arm to knock her down.
She was bleeding heavily and went down roughly to her knees. But she swung the wrench one last time, this time bringing it hard against the soft back of Doug’s knees. He lost his balance.
Nell used her leverage on his arm to help pull him down on his stomach. Then she fell on his arm, letting her knee crash into his wrist and pin his hand and the gun in it down. Something inside her let go—the hatred and fury. With her other leg she kicked at him, not caring what she hit just as long as her foot landed. She put one knee on his back, grabbing his hair as he’d done with her and slamming his face into the floor. She found the blood-slicked wrench and smashed it repeatedly onto his hand.