by Jana DeLeon
“I understand, but you don’t have to be. Your room is secure and Jackson has arranged for an unmarked unit to be placed in the parking lot of your dorm. You’ll have two armed policemen only yards away.”
Tara’s shoulders relaxed a bit. “And you’ll let me know if they have to let Brett go?”
“Of course, and the police will put a tail on him if they release him. Trust me, Brett can’t even get near you without someone seeing him.”
“That makes me feel a lot better. And it will be nice to sleep in my own bed.”
“And not have someone interrupt you every hour to take your temperature and blood pressure?”
Tara gave her a small smile. “That too.”
“Then let me get the nurse and we’ll get you checked out of here.”
Shaye arranged everything with the nurse, Tara signed some paperwork, and she was free to leave. She was limping because of her knee, but refused a wheelchair.
“I’ve been trying to walk a little bit all morning,” Tara said. “It stiffens up something awful the longer I don’t move it.”
Shaye opened the car door so that Tara could work her way into the front seat without twisting her legs. “It’s good to move it some,” Shaye said. “Just don’t overdo or you’ll end up in worse shape. When you get to your dorm, you can start icing and heating it again. That will help a lot.”
Tara was silent the entire ride to the dorm and Shaye knew a million things were running through the young woman’s mind. She was alternating between fear and anger and sadness, and all of those emotions drained you, especially when you had no idea how to stop them. Shaye knew that finding the killer was key to Tara’s letting go of what was happening. It would take some time, but the girl was a fighter. Shaye had every confidence that she’d move on from this and do well. It would change her, but it didn’t have to restrict her.
It was lunchtime when they arrived and the dorm was quiet. A couple of students said hello as they walked past, but no one asked questions or seemed to notice anything out of the norm. Apparently, word hadn’t circulated everywhere on campus about Tara’s attack. Either that, or people weren’t sure who the victim was. Either way, it brought Tara some peace.
Shaye checked Tara’s room before allowing her inside and drew the dead bolt as soon as she closed the door behind them.
“Once people hear about what happened to you,” Shaye said as Tara took a seat on her bed, “some are probably going to want to talk. I think it’s best if you don’t answer the door for anyone but me or the police. At least for now.”
Tara frowned. “You still think Brett could be working with someone.”
“Yes. And that could easily be a woman, so don’t think you’re safe with one sex versus the other. I don’t want to scare you, and I think the risk is small, but we need to do everything we can to mitigate the ability for the wrong person to get to you.”
“I understand. If someone knocks, I just won’t answer.”
“If it’s me, I’ll tell you through the door. When I leave, I’ll talk to the officers and ask them to do the same.”
“They’re here? I didn’t even notice them.”
Shaye smiled. “Good. That’s the idea. They’re in the parking lot in a white work van with a plumbing logo on the side. They can easily see out of the side panels, and there are cameras facing all directions, but no one will be able to see them inside. It’s the kind of thing they use for a stakeout.”
“That’s cool. I really appreciate all the trouble everyone is going to for me.”
“We’re all just doing our job. You’re going to get through this. I’ll make sure of it.”
Shaye opened the refrigerator and took out the ice pack and a bottle of water and handed them both to Tara. “If that knee starts hurting, take something for it before it gets too bad. If your head hurts or you start to get dizzy or just feel funny, call me. I’ll get you back to the hospital. If you need anything else, call me. Even if you just need to talk.”
Tara let out a breath. “Thank you so much, for everything. I don’t know how I’m ever going to repay you.”
“Move forward. Have the great life you always intended to have. Maybe with someone you thought was just a friend.”
Tara’s eyes widened and Shaye could tell it wasn’t the first time the girl had rethought her relationship with Ethan. Maybe that was the silver lining in all this horror.
“Is it okay if I grab a water?” Shaye asked.
“Of course.”
Shaye snagged a bottle from the fridge and headed for the door. “I hate to make you get up, but you need to come lock this after me.”
Tara pushed herself off the bed. “Trust me, I’m happy to get up for this.”
“Call me if you need anything,” Shaye said. “Anything. And don’t leave unless you have to.”
Tara nodded and Shaye stepped into the hall and closed the door behind her. She heard the dead bolt slide into place a second later.
Shaye stopped to speak to the cops, then headed to Jackson’s car. She climbed inside and sat for a bit, trying to decide what to concentrate on next. The police might have the killer in custody and no one could argue about opportunity where Brett was concerned, but they were still missing the most critical piece of the equation. Motive. The reality was, tens of thousands of people probably had opportunity, but only one person had a reason for it.
During the entire investigation, Shaye had felt that the killings had a personal element to them because of the suffocation. She was certain it meant something beyond just method. Maybe it was symbolic. But why those particular victims? Were they the actual people the killer held a grudge against or were they representative of someone else?
Shaye had known Ross St. Claire through social events. He was the typical spoiled son of a rich man. Shaye knew Malcolm had a lot of enemies in business. Was Ross paying for his father’s actions? Then there was Amber, the next victim. Nothing Shaye had learned about the student caused her to believe that she had intentionally caused someone else harm, but then that boiled down to perspective, and sometimes the person you saw now wasn’t the same person that you would have seen a year ago. Then there was location. The other victims had been found in convenient locations—a hiking trail, an abandoned house—but the killer had risked breaking into a funeral home to seal her in a coffin. Amber, who was claustrophobic.
Shaye frowned. That couldn’t be a coincidence. All of the killings probably had a personal element, but Amber’s death seemed more personal than the others. It was almost as if someone knew about the claustrophobia, which meant someone who knew Amber well. Brittany had mentioned a boyfriend in high school. Maybe Shaye would have another conversation with the sorority sister and see if she knew more about the boyfriend or if there were any other guys who’d sought Amber’s attention and been shot down.
Starting with Brett Frazier.
21
Jackson looked through the window of the interrogation room and shook his head. “This is going nowhere.”
“Yeah,” Grayson agreed. “I thought for sure he’d break from that story once we got him in a room but he’s holding firm.”
Brett was drinking a soda and looking a bit nervous, but not nearly as nervous as Jackson thought he should be. He’d stuck, unwavering, to his original story of trying to solve the crime to boost his résumé, and nothing Jackson or Grayson had said could shake him out of his stance.
“I’m at a loss,” Grayson said. “If he’s the killer, he should be more scared than that because we’ve got him. If he isn’t the killer, he should be more scared than that because we think he is.”
Jackson frowned. “Most serial killers think they’re smarter than the cops. Maybe he thinks he’s going to get away with it. After all, we can’t disprove his story and him taking Ethan to the hospital gives our side a credibility issue. Why not just kill him?”
“If he’s not the killer, then why isn’t he shitting kittens in there?”
“B
ecause he’s a teen with an ego and thinks he can’t go down for something he didn’t do. He voluntarily gave us DNA. Clearly he doesn’t think it’s going to link him to the other cases.”
“Yeah, well, I’m about tired of all the egos.”
“Me too. So what do you want to do? The lab is rushing the tests. We might be able to hold him until the results are in.”
Grayson stared at Brett a while longer, then blew out a breath. “Cut him loose and put a unit on him. If he steps on a crack in the sidewalk, I want to know about it.”
“You think he’ll give himself away?”
“Maybe. If Brett’s our guy, then he saved Ethan and that doesn’t make much sense unless he did it to throw a kink in our theory. But Tara was attacked after Brett brought Ethan in.”
“So he spared Ethan but for whatever reason, isn’t extending the same courtesy to Tara.”
Grayson shrugged. “Someone wants her dead. If it was Brett, then maybe that ego will send him her direction again. The only difference is we’ll be ready.”
“I’ll call the unit at the dorm and let them know.”
“Good. And call Shaye and ask her to fill Tara in. I think this news will be better coming from her.”
Jackson pulled out his cell phone as he watched Brett lean back in his chair and stretch. What was going on in the student’s mind? They knew he was smart, but how smart? Was he a smart guy who’d made a stupid decision?
Or was he a smart killer who might walk away smiling?
Shaye put her phone on the passenger seat and blew out a breath. The phone call she’d just had with Tara, explaining that Brett had been released, was as hard as she’d thought it would be. Tara hadn’t taken it well. She’d tried to be brave, but Shaye could hear the overwhelming fear in her voice and prayed the girl would work on relaxing before she worried herself into a heart attack. Considering her medical condition, Tara had been extremely fortunate so far that her heart had shown no signs of damage given what she’d gone through, but Shaye had hoped Tara could avoid any more strain than she’d already experienced.
Grayson’s decision to turn Brett loose made total sense. Shaye would have done the same thing in his position. It just put added strain on Tara, but there was nothing that could be done about it. Tara had protection. Brett would be followed. Maybe they’d get lucky and he’d screw up and give them the evidence they needed to pin the murders on him.
Or maybe he’d been telling the truth and the killer was still roaming scot-free.
Shaye climbed out of the car and started up the sidewalk to the sorority house, hoping Brittany would be there but not counting on it given how empty the parking lot was. Most of the girls were probably in class, at work, or off for some fun with friends. She knocked on the door and was surprised when it swung open almost immediately and Brittany looked out at her.
“I was in the kitchen and saw you coming up the walk,” Brittany said and waved her inside.
“Are you on your way to class?” Shaye asked as she stepped inside.
“No. I have a night class, but this is my light day. I usually use it to catch up on reading and papers.”
“I don’t want to get you behind.”
Brittany waved a hand in dismissal. “I’m always ahead. The other students hate me. Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m in the sorority. I almost never do social things, but my mom was a legacy, and you know how mothers can be.”
“I definitely do.”
“We can talk in the room we used before,” Brittany said as she headed down the hall. “I met your mother at an art opening my mother dragged me to last year. She’s really pretty and super nice. I bet she’s a champion hoverer.”
Shaye laughed. “World champion hoverer.”
Brittany walked into the room and closed the door behind them. “It’s annoying, but I get it. And with your situation, things had to be a million more times intense, especially since you didn’t know who’d abused you. I think that’s the thing I admire about you the most. That you walked out of your house every day and went on with life, even though you knew the person who’d held you could be the guy who just sold you coffee or drove you in a taxi. What you did took serious balls.” She grinned. “Figuratively.”
“Thank you. It was definitely something I thought about all the time, but now it’s over.”
Brittany cocked her head to the side. “Is it? I mean is it ever really over?”
“In some ways it’s not. But in the most important ways, it is.”
“Good. Because I’d like to believe that the people I help in the future can move on to a great life, even after something horrible happens.”
“I believe they can.”
“Look at me babbling again. I know you wouldn’t come here again unless it was important. Did the police find something at the location? Can you tell me?”
“They found a shed and someone drugged inside it.”
“Another victim?”
“Maybe, or maybe a very clever killer.”
Brittany’s eyes widened. “And they don’t have the evidence to prove one or the other.”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Wow. That’s got to be frustrating. What can I do to help?”
“Earlier, I was thinking about the victims. The one thing I’ve been unable to come up with is a motive. I can’t find a connection between all of the victims, but there has to be a reason they were selected, even if it makes no sense to us. But the one that stands out the most to me is Amber. The killer took a big risk with the way he killed her. The others were left in easily accessible places with a much lower risk of visibility.”
Brittany nodded. “But he broke into a funeral home for Amber.”
“I think Amber might have been more personal than the others. You’re pretty sure she didn’t know Ethan Campbell, right?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“What about his roommate, Brett Frazier?”
Brittany frowned. “Jock dude? Sorta dumb?”
“That’s him.”
“I’ve seen him at parties, but Amber never mentioned him and I never saw him approach her. It doesn’t mean he didn’t. A lot of guys tried to talk to Amber. She was really pretty.”
Shaye nodded. She’d figured as much, but had been hoping one suitor stood out over the others. “When I first came here, you mentioned a high school boyfriend that her father didn’t approve of,” Shaye said. “I don’t think you knew his name, though.”
“No. She never told me.”
“Did any of the sisters go to the same high school as Amber?”
Brittany shook her head. “I don’t think so, but Amber’s things are still in her room.”
“The police didn’t restrict access?”
“No. Her roommate, Katey, is still using the room. If Amber really liked the guy, she might still have a picture or something. Let’s go see.” She paused. “I mean, if it’s okay that I help.”
“Of course. You have no idea how much I appreciate the help you’ve already given me. When this is all over, I owe you a steak dinner.”
“Deal.”
They headed out of the room and upstairs, where Brittany opened a door to a bedroom, showing two twin beds, one with a pink comforter with tropical flowers and the other a Star Wars comforter.
“Amber was the pink side,” Brittany said. “Her desk is the one with all the fingernail polish on it.”
“Great,” Shaye said, and went over to the desk. “I’ll start here. Why don’t you take a look in her closet and see if she has any boxes of old stuff, like maybe pictures or a high school yearbook.”
Brittany nodded and opened the closet. Shaye turned her attention to the desk and started going through the drawers. She found a bag of makeup and several containers of jewelry on one side. The other contained scarves and hair items and a small photo album. Shaye pulled out the album and started flipping through the photos, but all of them were of Amber in the French Quarter with other girls, some o
f whom Shaye recognized as her sorority sisters. The one framed picture she had on her desk was Amber with an older woman who looked a lot like her. Shaye assumed it was her mother.
“Nothing?” Brittany asked.
Shaye turned around and shook her head. “What about you?”
“Only clothes and shoes. Her parents could tell you his name.”
“Perhaps, but I’d hate to disrupt their grieving over something that might not be anything. Not to mention, cast suspicion on someone who probably isn’t guilty of anything but getting dumped. I can look at a copy of her high school yearbook at her high school. They usually have a copy of every year on file.”
“You’re hoping there’s a picture of Amber with her boyfriend?”
Shaye nodded and rose from the desk, slightly disappointed that her idea hadn’t yielded anything. It had been a long shot, at best, but long shots had become her trademark.
Brittany followed her to the front door looking as disappointed as Shaye felt. “If there’s anything else I can do,” Brittany said. “Please let me know.”
“I will.”
Shaye headed to her car and climbed inside. She opened the bottled water she’d snagged from Tara and took a big swig. She had time to go to the high school and request a look at the yearbook before the library closed for the day, and that was probably what she should do. It would be easier to simply call Amber’s parents and ask, but with Amber’s father threatening a lawsuit against the sorority, Shaye was going to guess he wouldn’t have any interest in telling her about an old boyfriend he didn’t approve of. And the last thing Shaye wanted to do was send Amber’s father chasing after someone else. The ex-boyfriend might be some perfectly nice guy who didn’t need the aggravation and Shaye certainly didn’t want to be the source of ignition.
She took another drink of water and started the car, then pulled out of the parking lot onto the street. First, she’d stop by and check on Tara, then she’d head to the high school and see if she could find a clue in the yearbooks. She was a couple blocks away from the sorority house when her phone signaled an incoming text. She glanced down and saw it was from Brittany.