He stood and waved to the ME.
“Might as well do your thing, Viv.”
“Give me just a minute more,” Mia told him. “I think we need to check the cabin.”
“I’ll do that.” He removed the powder and brush from the kit, but hesitated at the tape.
“You finished with this?” he asked, holding it up.
“I will be in a minute. I’m afraid I’ve gotten all I’m going to get.” She stood up and rubbed the small of her back, then reached for the tape. She lifted the impression from the last bit of railing, then transferred the image to a fingerprint card. She handed the tape back to Beck.
He took it with him into the cabin, and when he emerged ten minutes later, he had a small stack of evidence cards under his arm.
“This should do it,” he told Mia, “though I suspect most of the prints we have belong to Hal.”
“We can print ourselves when we get back to the station for elimination, but I’m sure you’re right.” She began to repack the kit. “I certainly don’t expect any surprises.”
“Did you take any prints from the tarp?” Beck asked.
“No.” Mia straightened up. “I’ll do it now.”
“What do you use here for fabric? Ninhydrin, silver nitrate…what?” She poked into the kit and found the silver nitrate. “Ah, silver nitrate, it is.”
She looked up from the large black bag and asked, “Want to give me a hand? You spray, I’ll photograph?”
“Sure.”
She took the camera from the bag, then stepped back so Beck could get what he needed. As he sprayed the solution on the canvas tarp, several reddish-brown prints appeared, which Mia photographed immediately, before they faded in the hot sun. When they were finished, Beck packed the evidence they’d gathered along with the camera, and carried it onto the dock. Since he’d walked to the scene from the municipal building, he’d have to carry it back with him.
“She’s all yours, Viv,” he told the medical examiner.
“Thanks, Beck.” A somber Vivien dropped onto the deck with one of her assistants.
“I’m going back to the office.” Beck turned to Mia and held up the evidence bag.
“I’ll walk back with you.” She stood back and watched respectfully as Vivien directed the careful transfer of the body from the deck of the boat into a body bag. “There really isn’t anything to do here except wait for the press to show up.”
She fell in step with Beck, but stopped halfway across the parking lot.
“Crap. I changed in the ladies’ room at Singer’s and left the bag with my other clothes there. Give me a minute to run inside and grab it?”
“Can you make it fast?”
“Sure.” Mia jogged up to the door and went inside.
She was back in less five minutes. Beck started walking as soon as he saw the door open, so she had to hurry to catch up with him.
“Sorry, Todd was there. I hadn’t met him before. I told him you were trying to get in touch with Lisa, but hadn’t been able to. He said the last time he spoke with her was around an hour ago, but her phone was having trouble keeping a charge, said the battery needed to be replaced. Said he’s taking their kids to his sister’s in Annapolis today to spend the week and he checked in with Lisa to make sure their bags were packed and ready to go, since they’ll be leaving before she gets home from work.”
“I guess Lisa will just head back to the station when she’s finished. In the meantime, we’ll take a look at these prints.”
“You expect to find anything that will point us in the right direction?”
“No. But I want to make certain, get that piece out of the way.”
They completed the walk to Kelly’s Point Drive in silence. When they reached the building, Mia held the door for Beck, and once inside, he stopped to exchange a few words with Garland and Mia went directly to the conference room.
The first thing Beck did when he reached his office was check the fingerprints Mia had lifted from the boat against the prints he had on file for Hal. As suspected, the majority of the prints matched. He printed himself and checked against the remaining prints, and found two that matched his own. That left two other prints unmatched.
He went into the conference room and asked Mia for her prints. One matched a print that was lifted from the rail, which made sense. She’d grabbed onto it as she’d jumped to the deck that morning.
One down, this one from the tarp.
He was packing up envelopes holding the cards with the matched prints when Hal came in.
“You okay?” Beck studied Hal’s face.
“Damnable thing, Beck.” Hal shook his head and lowered himself into the nearest chair. “Damnable.”
“I asked if you were okay.”
“Yeah.” Hal got up and walked into the kitchen. “Want water, soda?”
“Nothing, thanks.”
Hal returned for a moment and stood in the doorway taking the lid off a bottle of spring water. He took a long drink, then asked, “You hear from Lisa?”
“No. She must have found someone at the gym who recognized Holly Sheridan or Mindy Kenneher, maybe she’s taking some statements.” Beck tapped his fingers on the desk. “Todd told Mia that Lisa’s having trouble with her phone losing the charge. Which would explain why she’s not getting our calls.”
“Damn cell phones. I’m forever forgetting to recharge my phone, then it makes that beeping sound in the middle of the night to remind me. Drives me nuts.” Hal nodded in the direction of the evidence envelopes on Beck’s desk. “You find anything there worth mentioning?”
“No. Most of the prints are yours. One print is Mia’s, a couple are mine, probably from last week when we took the boat out. One print from the tarp doesn’t match any of us.”
“Todd’s, most likely. He sold me the tarp, he would have handled it. I can stop out later and get his prints, just to make sure, but I’d bet money they’re his.”
“He said something about driving their kids over to his sister’s in Annapolis today. You might want to try to catch him before he leaves.”
Hal glanced at the wall clock. “I’ll do that now. I want to talk to him anyway. He’s been after me for the past couple of years to sell him the Shady Lady. After today…well, I think I’m going to be looking for another boat. Doubt I’d ever set foot on that deck without seeing that poor girl, all wrapped up like that.”
Hal stood with his hands on his hips.
“God damn him, why’d he have to choose my boat?”
“He’s taking another shot at Beck,” Mia said from behind him.
Hal turned to her and asked, “Why?”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about that. Maybe he’s just pissed off and this is his way of giving him the finger. He’s showing you how clever he is, how slick, that he can get that close and still elude you. It was a risk, both times-leaving one body in Beck’s car, and another on your boat, Hal. Risk is essential to him, it’s vital.” She sat on the arm of the chair so she could face both men.
“Why?” Hal asked again.
“It ups the stakes.” She shrugged. “Then again, it could be something deeper than that, something far more personal.”
Beck leaned forward, his arms resting on the desk. “Dr. McCall said that, too. That she thought it could be personal.”
“Maybe somehow he holds you responsible for whatever kicked this off, and he’s sharing the spoils with you. Laying the victims at your feet, so to speak. ‘See what you made me do.’”
Beck ran a hand over his face. The expression on his face was pure anguish.
“If I thought for one second that something I did or said somehow kick-started this madness…”
“No, no,” Mia told him, “don’t buy into it. Whatever his thinking is, it’s strictly his choice, all the way. He has to explain his choice to himself, remember, he has to have an excuse that permits him to do these things. His thinking is twisted. He could just as easily be mentally pointing the finger at Mot
her Teresa or Madonna. Whatever it is, it only exists inside his mind.”
“So he rationalizes…”
“Absolutely. He has to. He has to justify his actions to himself. And remember, I’m just speculating. We don’t know that you have anything to do with his motive.”
“But your gut tells you…what?”
Mia thought it over for a moment before replying. “If he’d left the second body someplace else, I’d say the first time, leaving one of his victims in your car was a tweak.”
“But…?”
“But…leaving this one on Hal’s boat…I’d have to say, yeah, it’s more personal.”
“Maybe it’s because I was the chief before Beck,” Hal said. “Maybe it’s something to do with that, something to do with not liking the police.”
“Maybe. Or maybe it’s because you’re his father.” She looked from one to the other.
Beck stared at her without comment for several seconds.
“Bastard,” Hal said and started out of the room. “I’ll be at Singer’s if you need me.”
Mia turned to Beck. “If that trace is ready to go to the lab…”
“How did you know?” He asked when Hal was gone.
“Someone mentioned it,” she replied.
“Why?”
“In reference to why the body may have been left on Hal’s boat. Does it bother you?”
“Not really.” If he did, he’d already dismissed it. “I’m going to run out to the gym outside of town and see if Lisa’s still out there. She might have found some witnesses to interview, and I want to tell her about finding Mindy before she hears it on the news. Want to come along?”
“Sure…”
Mia drove, Beck’s Jeep still being impounded. He’d been meaning to call for a rental, but kept forgetting.
On their way out of town, Beck said, “By the way, I had a chance to go over the cell phone records for both Mindy and Colleen.”
“I take it there was nothing of any great use.” Her eyes shifted from the road to him and back to the road. “Assuming you’d have told me if there had been.”
“A few calls to a number that turned out to be…”
“Let me guess…untraceable.”
“Right. Damn those prepaid phones.”
“I wouldn’t have expected anything less from this guy. He’s certainly not stupid enough to call his victims from his home or work phone. Though that would have been nice.”
She turned onto the highway. “You’re going to have to tell me which way to go here.”
“Straight, then make a right at the second light into the shopping center, maybe a mile down the road.”
“How about the victims’ computers?”
“Nothing. I had hoped we’d find there was some Realtor’s website that one or both of them had visited, but there was nothing like that, and nothing out of the ordinary. No e-mails from a Realtor-legit or otherwise-or from any of the same contacts. Nothing that rang any bells whatsoever.”
He pointed up ahead. “The shopping center is at the next light.”
She put on her turn signal and pulled into the parking lot.
“Stay to the left,” he told her. “The gym is the last building.”
“I see it.” Mia drove around and parked in one of the spaces right out front. She got out of the car and glanced to her right.
“Is that Mickey Forbes’s sporting goods store?” she asked.
He nodded and pointed to the gym.
“First things first,” he said.
“I was just wondering if he was working today, if he’d seen Lisa.” Mia followed Beck through the automatic doors leading into the gym. “He splits his time between here and the car dealership, right?”
“Yes, but I don’t know when he’s where.” Beck walked up to the reception desk. “I’m Chief Beck.”
The young woman behind the desk looked from Beck to Mia. “Can I help you with something?”
“One of my officers was planning on stopping out here today. I had someone call as a follow-up a little while ago. He was told she’d been here.”
“Sergeant Singer.” The girl nodded. “She was in a few hours ago.”
“Do you know if she spoke with anyone here?”
“She spoke with me. She had pictures of those women who were killed, the two who weren’t members but who worked out here sometimes,” the receptionist told him in a hushed voice, as if almost afraid to speak of the dead.
“You recognized them?” Mia asked.
“Sure. The older one, the one who worked at Sinclair’s Cove? She used to come in and only use the treadmill. Never did anything else. The other girl, the one from Cameron, Mindy? She came in a few times, she tried everything a few times before asking for a form to apply for membership. She never did bring it back, though.”
“Did you ever see either of them together?”
“No.”
“Did you know Colleen Preston?”
“Sure.” Her face grew sad. “Everyone knew Colleen. She was real friendly. No one could believe what happened to her. It just made us all sick.”
“Did you ever see her with either of the other two girls? Or with anyone? Any of them work with one of the personal trainers?”
“No. Sergeant Singer asked the same thing. I never saw Colleen with anyone. She just came in after work, did her thing, then left. The other two were just sort of sporadic.”
“Did you notice what time Sergeant Singer left?”
“Sometime this morning, but no, I didn’t notice the time.”
“I guess you didn’t see her leave the parking lot?” Mia asked.
“No, but you could ask over at The Coffee Counter.” Karen pointed out the door. “She said she was going to stop there.”
“Thanks,” Beck said. “You’ve been very helpful.”
“It’s so horrible, what he did to those girls.” A frightened look came over the young girl’s face. “Do you think you’ll catch him soon?”
“We’re doing our best,” Beck told her.
“Me and my friends, we’re scared to go out at night,” Karen confided.
“Good,” Beck told her. “If you’re not scared, you won’t be cautious. And being cautious could mean the difference between…”
The girl’s eyes widened.
“What he means is, it’s better to be safe than sorry. Stick with your friends and stay together if you go anyplace,” Mia told her, and nudged Beck toward the door. “Thanks again. You’ve been very helpful.”
Once outside, Mia asked, “What were you trying to do, scare the living shit out of her?”
“Yes. She should be scared.”
“But not paralyzed with fear.” Mia pointed up ahead. “There’s The Coffee Counter. Maybe we’ll find Lisa at some small table, knee-deep in an interview and strung out on caffeine and donuts.”
“With luck.” He pushed the door open and held it for her to follow him inside.
The shop was small, with a long counter lined with a dozen stools, a second smaller counter where orders were given and filled, and yet another long counter with more stools. There were two tables for four, and two tables for two near the front windows. A glass case held a variety of scones, donuts, and croissants. A middle-aged man stepped from behind the counter and waved to Beck.
“Chief, how’s it going?” He greeted Beck, and nodded in Mia’s direction.
“Not so good, Steve.”
“Yeah, I gathered.” The man nodded.
“Steve, you see Sergeant Singer today?”
“She was in earlier. Asking about those girls who got killed and wrapped up.” He shook his head. “That’s some bad business, Chief.”
“The worst. Listen, did you notice what time she left the shopping center?”
“No, sorry. We were talking about those girls for a while-they’d all been in here, one time or another. She had a bunch of questions, you know, did I remember them, did I ever see them with anyone, or talking with anyone, that so
rt of thing.”
“What did you tell her?” Mia asked.
“I said I never really noticed who they were with. I mean, the way we’re set up here, people are always talking to one another, and half the town is in here at one point or another on any given day. One of the reasons I set it up like this, nice way for folks to meet, you know? Sort of encourages conversation. People sit next to strangers, you never know who you’re going to meet.”
Mia and Beck exchanged a long look.
“Thanks, Steve.” Beck started toward the door.
“You might stop over at the Goal Post and see what time she left there,” Steve called to him.
Beck turned around and asked, “The Goal Post?”
“Yeah.” Steve nodded. “I told her that one of those girls-the little blond one, the girl from Cameron-had a big bag of stuff with her one time. I asked her if she wanted me to put it behind the counter while she had her coffee, the place was real crowded, and the shopping bag didn’t fit under the stool. She handed it over to me and I put it on the floor, right back there.” He pointed to the far counter. “I saw the name on the bag. The Goal Post. So when the sarge asked me about the girls, I told her she might want to try over there. See if anyone remembers her.”
“Thanks a lot, Steve, you’ve been a big help.” Beck pushed the door open and stepped outside. When Mia joined him on the sidewalk, he said, “Funny, I don’t remember Mickey mentioning that one of the victims was a customer of his.”
“He may not have known.” Mia hurried to catch up with him. “He may not have been in the store when Mindy was doing her shopping.”
“You’d think the clerk who waited on her would have remembered and would have mentioned it to him, and that he’d have mentioned it to me.” They reached the sporting goods store. “Let’s see what he has to say about it…”
They entered the store and went straight to the back. A young sales person in a white polo shirt and black soccer shorts approached them.
“Can I help you?”
“We’d like to speak with Mickey Forbes,” Beck told him.
“I’m sorry, he’s not in this afternoon. He owns the car place down the road, Bay Motors? Would you like me to call and see if he’s there?”
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