Spencer had expended a lot of breath trying to convince Jennings that it was one or more of the psychotic survivors doing the killing. If so then why would they have killed the two nuns that saved them? Why the priest? Were they that psychotic? Jennings doubted it.
What if the government was sending up a smokescreen, pointing the finger at those who could never defend themselves? What if they were just trying to protect their nasty little secret?
If so, then why had they waited so long to kill the priest and the nuns? They’d known where Byrne was from the beginning, and surely they had the resources to find the nuns long before now.
And why would they be killing and crucifying innocent young women?
Sinister thoughts were working their way into Jennings’ mind. He did not trust the government, or rather the men who used the government as a cover for their unspeakable deeds. Men were fallible, corruptible, and in this day and age the word patriot was used much too loosely. For the first time Jennings began to accept the possibility that there might be more than one killer. Perhaps the killers were linked in some twisted way. Suddenly a new way of thinking about this case had opened up in his mind.
Chapter 91
He picked up his phone and dialed. After three rings Persephone Wilder answered.
“Seph, this is Rick Jennings. How are you?”
“Just fine, Rick. And you?”
“I’ve been better. Listen, sorry to call you at home but I really need to talk to you.”
“No, it’s okay. I’m actually not at home. I’m on the road.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“No problem. Just working a story. What can I do for you?”
“Remember what we talked about the other day?”
“Sure. Why? You got something for me?”
“Maybe, I don’t know.”
“I’m listening.”
“This goes back almost ten years,” Jennings said. “Something you dug up about the Jack Higgins murder.”
“Ooh, that’s a tough one,” Wilder said. “Believe me, I’d love to talk about that, but I’d also love to keep my job.”
“You know I would never use your name in any official capacity.”
“What exactly do you have, Rick?”
“It occurred to me that there might be a connection between these murders and that one.”
There was a long silence on the line. “Really,” Wilder said and Jennings heard a decided tone shift in her voice.
“It’s just a theory but I’d love to explore it a little further with you, if that’s okay.”
“Sure,” Wilder said.
“Can we get together?”
“Not any time soon,” Wilder said. “It’ll be several hours before I get back in town. How about I give you a call later this evening?”
“I’m looking forward to it,” Jennings said and clicked off.
Chapter 92
“Yes, I know Ruben Van Horne,” Wolf said. “He’s your stepfather?”
Laura nodded. “Oh my god, Danny, what are the chances?”
“I’m a musician, remember? And I went to Berklee.”
“When you told me that this morning I didn’t even make the connection.”
“He was a student there the same time I was,” Wolf said. “He was a few years older than me but I got to know him. He was a wunderkind, very smart and aggressive, had major plans for his future. He stayed on for a few years after graduating and became a music professor. He even taught a few of the classes I was in. Then he left and started his own record company.” Wolf frowned. “He’s married to your mother?”
Laura nodded. “I don’t believe this.”
“Several years after I graduated he offered my band a record deal,” Wolf said. “I turned him down.”
Laura made a face. “Why?”
“Because he was an asshole, and I didn’t like the deal he offered. He and a couple of his A&R people spent a considerable amount of time and money romancing us when we were playing the Boston and New York circuits. We had a decent following and we wanted a record deal. He figured we were hungry enough to take what he offered. I won’t go into details but suffice it to say, the deal was definitely tipped in his favor. He got really pissed when I turned him down. Called me an idiot, said I would never amount to anything and that I had blown my only chance.” Wolf snorted out an ironic laugh. “Guess he was right.”
“No, he was wrong, Danny. You are an amazing singer and an extremely talented songwriter.”
“Well, here I am,” Wolf said. “Now I’ve got the creeps, hanging in his crib.”
“Wow, it is a small world,” Laura said, feeling as creeped out about the coincidence as Wolf seemed to be. But was it coincidence? The detective part of her mind began to work. She knew some things about Ruben Van Horne and wondered how often these kinds of coincidences actually happen in real life. “And by the way, you’re right about him being an asshole,” she added. “It seems you’ve got good instincts.”
“Hasn’t gotten me anywhere,” Wolf said. “I gather he’s not one of your favorite people.”
Laura made another face. She seemed to shrivel like a wilting flower as she hugged her arms to her body. “No. I’ve got a good sense about people and I believe he’s had several affairs since marrying my mother.”
“Wow, that sucks,” Wolf said. “You say your mother met him at a party?”
“A few months after my father was killed they were introduced at a party.” Laura paused in thought. “I don’t know. I guess she was vulnerable, or lonely, or both. My mother is a physically beautiful woman and she was smitten by Ruben’s attention.”
“She has to be older than him.”
“Almost ten years. Dad wasn’t even cold in his grave, but Ruben would not leave her alone...” Laura’s voice trailed off.
“How did you feel about it?”
“How do you think I felt? I was pissed off. I loved my father more than anything and couldn’t understand at the time how my mother could take up with someone else so soon. I was a kid. I suppose I expected her to pine the rest of her life away. I was naïve.”
“I see,” said Wolf. “How did you know about his affairs?”
“Ruben was a womanizer. I wish my mother would have seen it from the beginning but she was blinded by his attention. I saw it, and I couldn’t understand why she didn’t. The moment we met he started hitting on me. I guess my mother never noticed and I didn’t want to break her heart so I didn’t say anything. He was always making comments, and the way he sometimes looked at me.” Laura shivered in revulsion. “Like he was seeing through my clothing. I figured if he was doing it to me—his wife’s daughter—then it wasn’t much of a stretch to believe he was fucking around on her. They spend a lot of time apart, as you can imagine. He’d come home and I could smell other women on him. He didn’t even try to wash them off. It was like a badge of honor or something, like he was doing it on purpose. I’m not sure if it was naiveté on my mother’s part or if she knew and just ignored it. One night he came into my bedroom. He thought I was asleep, but it wasn’t the first time he’d done it and I was waiting for him. He pulled the blanket down, hoping to catch me naked and I struck out and dug my fingernails across his cheek. I got him good, too. He fell back with a strangled little scream and quickly left my room. He never bothered me again, but I knew from that moment on that he hated me. It was okay, because I hated him too. Although I never forgave him, I eventually made peace with him. I rationalized that my mother deserved to be happy. I’m not sure she ever has been, though.”
“I got to know him quite well,” Wolf said. “Every time he’d come out to the clubs and try to make a deal with me he’d have two or three bimbos on his arm. Always a showoff, buying expensive champagne, cutting lines of coke backstage. Bragging. An unbelievable asshole.”
“That’ll never change,” Laura said.
“Why did you become a cop?” Wolf asked.
“It’s complicated. I think I wanted to prove something. I
lost my father when I was thirteen and I never got over it. His death devastated me. I think I did it because in the back of my mind I believed I’d have more of a chance of figuring out what really happened to him if I became a cop. After high school I studied sociology at Michigan State, then went on to the police academy. I’ve worked on some pretty high profile cases. When Rick Jennings asked me to come up here and help with this investigation I didn’t even hesitate, thinking it might be a chance to understand my father’s murder a little better, maybe even figure it out. Boy, what a mess I’ve made of everything.”
“I’m sorry this had to happen,” Wolf said.
“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault. I’m a big girl.”
“You’re also a beautiful woman,” Wolf said.
Laura smiled. “Gee, thanks.”
Wolf cleared his throat, and he could feel his face flushing. “No... I mean you probably hear that all the time.”
“Actually, I don’t...” She waited.
“Yeah, right.”
Laura frowned. “I’m serious. I intimidate men.”
“Well,” Wolf said, “what I mean to say is, there must be...somebody.”
“You want to know if I have a boyfriend.”
“Yeah, I guess I do.”
“I had one. Brian. A lawyer. We were planning on getting married but he didn’t like my job, thought I took too many risks and wanted me to quit. Wanted me to be his little trophy wife, show me off at lawyer parties or something. I told him he was out of his mind and that was that. He left.”
“And you didn’t try to stop him?”
“Hell no,” Laura said and Wolf saw the glint of unshed tears in her eyes. “He wasn’t for me.”
“Do you take a lot of risks?”
“What do you think, Danny?”
Wolf sighed. “Yeah, I guess you do.”
“Two years ago I was kidnapped by a serial predator,” Laura told him. “His name was James Patrick Darby. It was the worst experience of my life. He held me for days. He raped me and tortured me and I had plenty of time to think about my mortality. I thought about my dad, about how much I missed him and if it was really possible that I’d see him in the afterlife. I thought about how I’d let my mom down. How she’d been right not wanting me to be a cop. I thought about how short life is and about Brian and knew then that he’d done the right thing by leaving me. Besides, I didn’t love him enough to spend an entire lifetime with him.” Laura stopped and her throat worked as tears slid down her cheeks.
“Jesus, Laura.”
“Then something happened,” Laura went on. “I knew I was going to die and I began to accept my fate, and with acceptance I found this inner strength that amazed me. He had me tied spread eagled to a four-post bed. My wrists were raw and bleeding and my body was on fire with bedsores. Even so, I managed to get my mind into a place where I was at peace and I began working slowly at the bonds of my right hand with the tips of my fingers. I don’t know how I did it, but after what seemed an eternity, I managed to free myself. Then I tried to find a way out of his lair. It was a basement and he’d engineered it so well that it was virtually impossible to escape from. So I looked around for a weapon and found several loaded guns in a secret hidey hole. When he came through the door I shot him point blank in the chest. He rushed me and overpowered me and I shot him again, and again, six times. It was like he had this supernatural power or something. Like no matter what I did to him he wouldn’t die. But you know something? He did die, finally, with a sick smile on his ugly-ass face. It was like he was still wielding some sort of power over me. Like even in death he’d won. I still see that smile sometimes in my nightmares, and I wake up in a sweat because I imagine he’s whispering in my ear.”
Wolf was speechless for a very long time staring at Laura. “What does he say?”
“I’m still with you, Laura. I’ll never leave you.”
“Jesus,” Wolf breathed. “That is totally creepy.”
“Yeah, well the asshole will never hurt anyone else. Two weeks later I was back at work on a new case. Yeah, I’d say I take some risks.”
Chapter 93
There was a long silence in the room before Laura said, “He tortured and killed eight women. I hope he’s burning in hell right now. Christ, what time is it?” She looked at her watch. “Six o’clock.” Laura picked up a remote control from the coffee table and snapped on the television set, which was in the corner to the right of the fireplace. The local news was just coming on and as she’d suspected, the lead item had to do with the explosion at the abandoned building, the dead cop and the body that had been discovered there. The announcer said that police had identified the body before the explosion had vaporized it, along with the police officer and the building. Police were giving few details other than the two victim’s names. The officer’s name was Jeremy Myers, a one year veteran of the force, and the murdered woman had been identified as Kaleigh Jarvis from the town of Rockport, Maine, a corrections officer at the Maine State Prison in Warren. The next thing Laura saw was hers and Wolf’s pictures flash on the screen. “Two people are wanted for questioning in the recent string of deaths.” The announcer went on to give their names and to say that Laura Higgins was a police officer and that Wolf was a local musician who was on parole from the Maine State Prison, that Wolf was a suspect in the murders and that it was possible that Higgins was being held against her will. Citizens should take care, the announcer said. Wolf was most probably armed and dangerous.
“Shit!” Laura said.
Wolf was staring at the television screen. “I know the dead woman,” he said.
“What?”
“I know her.”
“Oh, Christ, Wolf. She’s the prison guard, isn’t she?”
Wolf glared at Laura. “Yeah, that’s what they just said.”
“No, I mean the one who wrote you the letters.”
“How the hell did you know about that?”
“Why didn’t you answer her letters?”
“You read my fucking mail?”
“Yes. It was my job and I’m not going to apologize for it. Come on, answer me.”
“Because she was a sweet kid and I didn’t want her to get hurt. In case you didn’t know, all the women I come in contact with end up dead.”
“The letter said that she was planning on coming to see your band play last night. Did she?”
“No,” Wolf said. “At least I didn’t see her.”
“Well, wouldn’t she have said something to you?”
“She’s shy. Maybe she saw me with you and kept her distance. I don’t know. Did you see me talking to anyone else?”
“No, but the place was packed and I wasn’t watching you every second.”
“You weren’t?”
“Screw you, Wolf.”
“Quiet!” Wolf said. He’d turned around and his attention was now focused back on the television set. The newswoman on the screen said, “In an unrelated story, Bishop Patrick Byrne, head of Portland’s Catholic Archdiocese was found murdered outside his rectory house this afternoon. Details of the case aren’t being made public pending further investigation. Parishioners have been gathering at the site all afternoon to pay respects to their beloved priest.”
“Jesus Christ,” Wolf said.
“Don’t tell me you knew him too.”
“No, but I went there the other morning.”
“What? Why?”
Wolf told her about the dream, how he couldn’t sleep so he’d gone out for a walk and just ended up there. He told her what the priest had said to him.
“Let me get this straight,” Laura said. “The priest said he knew you?”
“Yeah, he did.”
“And he was surprised that you were there?”
“It was almost as if he was surprised that I was alive,” Wolf said. “He said, and I think these were close to his exact words, ‘It has been a very long time, but I do remember you. I just don’t understand...’”
“What didn’t he understand, Danny?”
“He didn’t finish the sentence, but then he said, ‘You were a child. There were other children. All of you were special. Do you know if any of the others—?’”
“That’s when his voice faltered, and he turned white and said, ‘Oh, dear God, it’s true.’ And that’s when I turned and got the hell out of there.”
“Why didn’t you ask him what he meant?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it was because down deep I knew what he meant.”
“Tell me.”
“I think he wanted to ask me if any of the others survived.”
“You mean children, don’t you, Danny?” Laura said.
“Yeah, I suppose I do. But I didn’t want to hear what he had to say. I didn’t want to think about it. I couldn’t get away from him fast enough.”
“He had something to do with it, didn’t he?”
“I think he might have.”
“And he’s dead too,” Laura said. “Good God everyone you come in contact with ends up dead.”
Chapter 94
One of the two killers stood motionless in the shelter of trees near the lake shore watching them through the wide, tall windows. It was sickening to see them together like this. There was Danny, with his long, shiny hair, his magnetic personality and his startling good looks. Oh, but he was such an arrogant asshole.
And then there was Laura, the little tramp. She’d only known him a few days and already they were rutting like a pair of savages. The killer continued to stare, paying special attention to Laura. Actually it was difficult taking his eyes off her. She was so confident, so self-assured, so amazingly superior. She needed to be taught a serious lesson. He wanted nothing more than to butcher the little bitch like the pig that she was. But sadly, it was not to be. She would die eventually, oh yes she would, but for now he had a special surprise her. She would cry and beg and piss in her pants with fear before he got through with her. Oh, this was going to be such fun. The killer left the shelter of trees and began moving slowly toward the house.
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