Laura’s mouth dropped open. “I’m shocked! What could he have to do with these murders? He worked every night except Wednesday, and these murders have taken place all over this city on different nights. I’m going to have to do a complete background check on this kid. Thanks, Ralph, but I think you just complicated things.”
“Maybe, but this is the first time that any of the evidence has connected directly to the crime in any way. Previously, the DNA from the butts has led to men who were complete strangers to everyone in the case.”
“So is this guy, so far. Now I’m wondering if the other men had any connections to the buildings involved in the other murders. Thanks, this gives me a whole new set of leads to follow up on. Six murders, six different sets of DNA and six locations to tie them to. I’m not liking that triple six thing!”
“It’s a good thing that I know you’re just yanking my chain.”
She gave him a sly look. “Come on, Ralph, would I do something like that?”
“My wife thinks you have a thing for me.”
“Tell her she’s safe. I’ve given up men. Especially after seeing the likes of this one! He’s far worse than my ex even thought about being!”
In the elevator, she laughed to herself as she rode back up to her office. Ralph was a short, skinny man in his late fifties. He was sweet, kind and extremely intelligent but not her type, even with his killer blue eyes. Of course her “type” had never gotten her anywhere in life. She always went for the bad boys and then wondered why it never worked out. That is why it was safer to be alone. The last guy she was with turned out to be bi-sexual, and she had caught him in her own bed with a man! Somehow he didn’t think he was cheating, since it was a man. He thought it had to be another woman before it was cheating! She was still getting tested for HIV every few months, just to make sure. So far, she had been lucky.
As the door to the elevator opened, she saw Murphy and Burns headed out of the break room with coffee. Murphy had a cup for her. He was always thoughtful that way, but part of her was suspicious that he was just kissing up to the boss. Still, he was gorgeous to look at, and no one could sue her for her thoughts. “Okay guys, we have a new twist to check out.”
Dan handed her a cup. “Something interesting from forensics?”
“Yes, Murphy, and thanks for the coffee. The DNA on the cigarette butts matches the dead security guard.” She could tell, by the looks on their faces, that both of her partners were as shocked as she was.
“I’m glad I came back from vacation in time for this development! How do you think this all ties in?”
“Not sure yet. Murphy, have we run a background check on the guard?”
“No, not other than contacting some of his friends and family, we considered him a victim.”
“Have we eliminated him as a connection to Sheila Lawson?”
Dan took a quick look through the file. “Yes, nothing in the cross reference so far. They had nothing in common, other than being at that crime scene.”
“Until now, can you please run a complete background, and let me know what you find, ASAP.”
Dan turned his chair around to his desk. “I’m on it!”
“Burns, we need to go over all of the last five cases. See if there is anything to tie the men whose DNA was found at each murder, with the building the body was found in. See if they were janitors, or worked there before. It may mean interviewing each of them all over again.”
“Peterson, I have a hit on the guard. He has a previous abuse complaint against him, just like all of the other men involved; only his was dropped by the girlfriend.”
“Fantastic, while Burns is researching the buildings angle, see if you can find a connection in the abuse cases. Did they all go to the same counseling center? Did they all have the same judge, or arresting officer? Something has to link these guys together! In the mean time, I’m going back to Sheila Lawson’s apartment and start digging deeper into her life. Have we gotten anything on her phone records yet?”
Murphy handed them to her, as she passed his desk on the way out. “Thanks, I’ll take them with me.” When she reached the elevator she muttered to herself, “If I was ten years younger, I just might be interested.”
The apartment seemed quiet and peaceful. Nothing had been touched since she was there last. When you die, all of your possessions just sit patiently collecting dust, until someone disposes of them. She had not talked to any family. Sheila’s work had provided an emergency name and phone for a sister, but it was disconnected. They were trying to find a forwarding address. She sighed to herself, “Someone must care for this woman, other than her married boyfriend.”
Closing her eyes, she tried to get a feel for the space. That was something she did only when she was alone. The department didn’t believe in psychics or things of that nature, but she had a sixth-sense, which she usually kept to herself. Most of the time it paid off, and right then she was feeling compelled to examine that walk-in closet more closely.
Everything was lined up so neatly and color coordinated. She started parting the dresses and saw a hidden shelf in the wall. On it she found books about Wicca, candles and two small statues. “Ah, the secrets people keep hidden!” Now she was even more curious about that Yale key. “Sheila, were you into something that got you killed?” There had been nothing that tied the other victims to witchcraft or the occult, unless the broom was a ride. Didn’t they dig deep enough, or was this just another one of those dead ends? She had to pursue it, even if it led nowhere. At least it was something different to try. Her first partner and mentor had told her to leave no stone unturned, and that was her motto.
She sat down at Sheila’s desk and took out the phone records she had brought with her. One number jumped out at her, because of the frequency that it had been called from the home phone. When she dialed it, she got a voice mail from someone named Janet. She left a message for this woman to contact her. A new lead had developed. “Who is Janet, and how does she fit into Sheila’s life?”
Looking at the phone, she noticed that there were no messages. “How can it be that someone dies, and no one has called to try to contact her? Surely, not every person in her life knows she’s dead. What about Nancy? If no one at Sheila’s work knows her, and she hasn’t been back to the bar, why hasn’t she called?” Something about Nancy bothered Laura. That woman was like a ghost that no one knew anything about.
When Sheila’s phone rang it startled her. The apartment was so quiet that the ring seemed to pierce the air like an intruder. She picked it up cautiously. “Hello?”
“Sheila?”
“No, who is this?”
“This is Janet. Is Sheila there?”
“No, Janet, this is Detective Peterson. I just left you a message to call me.”
“Yes, I know that. I was calling Sheila to ask why the police would be contacting me and to find out if she is alright.”
“Could you please meet me at the station? I don’t like to conduct interviews over the phone.”
There was a hesitation on the line. “Why are you answering Sheila’s phone? Is there something wrong? Tell me!”
“Yes, Janet, something is wrong, and I am hoping that you can help me.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Walking back into her office, Laura saw a beautiful, stately, looking woman sitting at her desk. She had long, gray hair and wore a strange, caftan-type garment made of loosely, woven fabric. Around her neck was a pentagram hung from a large, gold chain. At last, some sort of strange link to the murder at hand! As she approached the woman, she watched for any reaction.
Murphy looked up from his desk and saw her coming toward him. “Peterson, this is Janet McGraw. She said that you had called her in to talk about Sheila.”
“That was very prompt of you, Ms. McGraw.”
The woman stood up and took Laura’s hand. She looked extremely worried. “Please, call me Janet. What has happened to Shelia? Something is wrong, I can feel it.”
“Please sit down, Janet. Other than a call from the police, is there any other reason that you suspect something to be wrong with Shelia?”
“Yes, she has missed our last two meetings, and it was never like her to miss a meeting.”
Laura watched Janet closely. “What meetings? Were you having dinner together?”
“No, we are Wiccans. She missed our weekly meetings. She’s dead, isn’t she?”
Laura was surprised at that remark. “Why do you think she’s dead?”
“Because I can no longer feel her spirit with us, and I haven’t for the last week or so.”
Laura thought that was either a very truthful answer or a really good cover up. “Where were you a week ago this past Thursday evening?”
“That was the night of the first meeting she missed. We meet on Thursday nights each week. That night was especially important because it was a full moon, and we were meeting at midnight for a meditation. I was worried when she didn’t arrive on time.”
“Were there just the two of you at these meetings?”
“No, there are about twenty of us, some more faithful than others, but Sheila was always there like clockwork.”
“I heard that she had a habit of being late for appointments.”
Janet shook her head adamantly. “Not as far as we were concerned. She always showed up on time and contributed to the meeting. She was our newest member and the most enthusiastic. Please tell me what happened to her.”
This was the part she always hated, and it didn’t get any easier no matter how many times she did it. “You’re right, Janet, she is dead. She was the sixth victim of the serial killer who is stalking the women of this city. You’re the first connection that we’ve been able to find to the crime scenes.”
Janet folded her hands, bowed her head, closed her eyes and stopped speaking. Peterson and Murphy glanced at each other and then just sat there watching her. She was quiet for an unusually long time, for someone who had just been given that kind of news. When she raised her head again, she had a calm determination on her face. “There, I’ve said my goodbyes. What can I do to help you, Detective Peterson? This monster must be put away.”
Laura was somewhat taken aback by this strange response but pushed on with the interview. “I’m surprised that you didn’t read about Sheila in the paper.”
“Negativity never helps anyone through life. I do not watch the news or read the paper. I prefer to focus on positive, life-affirming things. What did you mean by a connection to the crime scenes?”
“There was a pentagram drawn on the floor underneath the body, and you’re wearing one.”
Janet looked a bit startled. “It’s one of our symbols. We’re a very secretive and closed group, Detective. Sheila was new to all of this. Almost no one outside of our group would have known about her lifestyle change, and no one in our group would be capable of this cruelty.”
Laura wanted to believe her, but something wasn’t adding up. “If you don’t pay attention to the news, then how is it that you know about the serial killer?”
“When something like this happens, everyone is talking about it. Our group is comprised of women, and we all worry about our safety. Just because we don’t like to dwell on negativity, doesn’t mean we ignore what’s happening in our surroundings. That would be foolish. We must all be aware of existing dangers. A pentagram being found at the scene makes me wonder if the killer is someone she knew intimately enough to share her secret with.”
“Did you have any contact with Sheila that day?”
“Yes, she called to tell me she had someone she wanted to introduce to the group. She wanted to know how much she should tell them about what we do.”
“Did she say who that person was?”
Janet thought for a moment. “Not really, only that it was someone that she associated with outside of work. I believe she said her name was Nancy. She was very worried that someone from her job would find out about this and get the wrong idea. Wiccans are very misunderstood people. Even though the Salem witch hunts took place centuries ago, the minds of men have not evolved. There’s always a threat of being discovered. Luckily, current laws prevent them from burning us at the stake! Did you know about her Wiccan background?”
“Yes, I just found out today when I was looking through her apartment. There’s a shelf hidden in her closet with books on the subject. If I give you a list of names, would you be willing to see if any of them are connected to your religion?”
“I would be happy to do that for you. And thank you for calling it a religion. Most people think we’re a bunch of soulless weirdo’s who worship Satan.”
“In my line of work we need to be informed about many different things, Janet.”
“I certainly hope you’re wrong about the connection to our group. That would mean that none of us are safe.”
Suddenly, Laura thought about the Yale key. “Did Shelia have a key to your meeting room?”
“No, I was the only one who had a key, why do you ask?”
Laura waved her hand in the air dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. We just found a key on her ring, and we don’t know what it goes to.”
Murphy brought over the list of women victims and handed it to Janet to look through. She said that none of them were familiar to her, but she would check with her group. She thanked Detective Peterson and left, saying that they could contact her any time they had questions.
Laura felt a bit hopeful. “Did you hear that, Murphy? Nancy was the person Sheila was trying to bring into their group. We have to find out something about this woman.”
Dan really didn’t want to be the one to kill her excitement. “That cell phone number was from a prepaid phone, and it was paid for with cash. That makes it untraceable.”
“Damn! I feel like a rat in a maze. Just when I think I’m headed somewhere, it turns out to be just another dead-end. I just about fell over when I saw that pentagram around Janet’s neck, but now it looks like she has about twenty witnesses to her alibi.”
“Yeah, she doesn’t look like the mass murderer type. She reminds me of my mother, into all that New Age stuff. After my dad died she went all metaphysical. I think it was a reaction to being married and taking care of us kids for forty years. She was never able to express herself as an individual before that, she was just an extension of the family.”
“That’s a very enlightened analysis for a man, Murphy.”
He pointed his finger at her playfully. “Now who’s the sexist?”
She laughed as she walked away. “I’m on my way to the morgue.”
There was something about Murphy that made her want to ruffle his hair. Maybe it was his boyish good looks, or that sense of innocence he had about him. For a seasoned cop, he didn’t appear to be very experienced, but looks can be deceiving. She didn’t know much about him, unlike Roy, whom she had worked with for years. He was a stable married man with two wonderful kids, Bethany who was ten and Ryan who was thirteen. They had just gotten back from a trip to Disneyland, because Roy had to use up his vacation time before it expired. She didn’t know how his wife Sara put up with the hours Roy spent at work. It would almost have to be like being a single mom. They had been married eighteen years. Laura couldn’t imagine saying goodbye to someone she loved each morning, and not knowing if she would ever see them again. It must be hell being a cop’s spouse. Whether she liked to think about it or not, it was a dangerous job, which was another reason to be thankful she was single.
When she walked through the door of the morgue, she looked for Ralph. As usual, he was bent over a dead body. “Don’t you ever get tired of hanging out with a bunch of stiffs?”
Ralph looked up at her with a big smile. “I’d know that cheery voice anywhere. What’s the matter, you stuck?”
“Actually, a new lead. It turns out our latest victim was a Wiccan.”
“Hmmmmm, that certainly explains the pentagram, but what’s the connection?”
“Not sure yet. The night she was murdered, she was supposed to be at a meeting for a full moon meditation. Also, she was thinking of bringing Nancy into the coven.”
Ralph covered up the body and came around the table to talk to her. “I thought you didn’t think Nancy had anything to do with this.”
“I still don’t, since we can’t connect her to any of the other victims, but something is just not right. Call it one of my crazy hunches. Her name keeps coming up when I track down a lead, and that makes me suspicious. Also, she just seems to have disappeared. The bartender is the only one who has ever seen her. Is there anything that we can get from those hair samples?”
Ralph shook his head. “I’m afraid not. They’re synthetic strands from a cheap wig, which explains why they were falling out everywhere. Do we know if Nancy wore a wig?”
“No idea. I’m going down to interview that bartender again later. I’ll ask.”
“Great, have one for me while you’re there.”
She smiled to herself, because she knew that Ralph didn’t drink. “That security guard turned out to have a record of abuse, just like the rest of the Butt Men.”
“I love the way you come up with these pet names.”
“Seriously, Ralph, I’m so frustrated with these cases that I could scream. It has been almost two weeks since we found Sheila, and we have had about one body a month. Every time the phone rings, I’m afraid to answer it.”
“This guy is like a phantom. No one sees anything but his handiwork. Never a witness, until the guard the other night, and he’s the strong, silent type.”
Her eyes opened wide. “Rather morbid of you, Dr. Foote!”
“In my line of work, if I didn’t find a way to joke about it, I would go crazy.”
“Okay, see ya!”
“Till we meet again, fair damsel.”
The Lady Killer Page 3