Her Last Breath - Debt Collector 9 (A Jack Winchester Thriller)

by Jon Mills

  As they made their approach, a dog darted out from beneath a shady portion of the porch. It was a husky, vicious looking, and for a second he thought they were going to be attacked until the dog let out a yelp as a thick chain yanked it back. His heart slammed against his chest and Meghan looked equally startled.

  “Can I help you?”

  The commotion had caused the man to take notice. He now stood holding one of the earphones off his ear and gripping a paintbrush with his other hand. He had sharp features, a patchy beard and wore sunglasses. He couldn’t have been a day over forty.

  “Karl Fraser?” Jack asked.

  “Who’s asking?”

  “Jack Winchester and this is a friend of mine. I was hoping to have a moment of your time.”

  “You from the newspaper?”

  Jack wanted to approach the porch, but the dog was blocking his way. It was snarling, baring its teeth and wasn’t showing any signs of backing off.

  “Nope.”

  “Then what do you want?”

  “To talk to you about Jenna Whitmore.”

  He figured he would just drop her name and see what his reaction was. While he knew Jenna had taken photos of him from a distance, there was no statement from him, just snippets of articles from the newspaper about his questionable past.

  “Don’t know her.”

  “You ever meet her?”

  “Look, I don’t know what you are doing here but I told the press everything they wanted to know, and they just twisted my words. I’m done talking. Now go before I set my dog on you.”

  He turned and went back to painting.

  “I heard you were innocent,” Meghan blurted out. There were a tense few seconds as he glanced their way, peering between the slats of the porch. “We were hoping to set the record straight, get your side of the story. The truth.”

  Jack smiled ever so slightly as he glanced at her out the corner of his eye.

  “I already told them the truth,” Karl bellowed back.

  “Look, she was a good friend of mine and she’s recently gone missing. We just want a few minutes of your time and we’ll be on our way.”

  Karl didn’t respond. He set his paintbrush down, lifted his sunglasses and squinted at them before stepping off the porch and heading over to where his dog was chained up. Jack muttered to Meghan to get back in the truck, thinking he was going to set his dog on them. Jack slipped his hand around his back getting ready to grab the Glock. There were a few seconds of tension and then he yanked his dog back, unlatched him and hauled the furry friend into his house. He slammed the door behind him and the dog started barking.

  “Oh shut up, before I put you down.”

  He turned and beckoned them to come up out of the noonday heat.

  Jack breathed out a sigh of relief.

  Meghan smiled and looked all pleased with herself before leading the way.

  Karl motioned for them to take a seat on the porch rocker. It creaked as they took a seat. The paint was peeling on it, much like the home.

  “Trying to get on top of the work around this house before the winter. I was hoping to get it done today.” He pointed out towards the dark clouds. “But looks like we are in for a storm.” He sniffed hard. “Can I get you a drink? Iced tea perhaps? A beer?”

  “No, we’re good,” Jack said.

  “So who’s this Jenna Whitmore and why are you asking me?”

  “She is a local journalist from Marlinton investigating the case of the Green Bank Five. I know your name came up as a person of interest back when the first two bodies were found.”

  Karl leaned to his side and snatched up a can of Skoal chewing tobacco. He took a pinch and jammed it into the side of his mouth, closed the lid and fished around for a small, dirty spit bucket.

  “Yeah, well they got the wrong person. I told them that from the start.”

  “So what happened?”

  “My old lady told them that I did it.”

  “And did you?” Jack asked. He knew he would say no but a lot could be learned about a person when posed with an uncomfortable question. Jack had learned from years of dealing with liars the signs of someone trying to cover their ass. Even those who were good at remaining expressionless could still be caught out. There were common telltale signs, a person’s initial response when accused, changing their story, not answering with a yes or no but giving long answers. It was a means of stalling. Others would offer too many details, lying about smaller stuff, or referring to a missing person in the past tense. Of course, then there was nonverbal communication. Though many debated how reliable that was, Jack had found it extremely useful.

  “No, I didn’t do it. And I’m not sure I want to speak about this.”

  “Please,” Meghan said leaning forward with her hands clasped together. “Continue.”

  He sighed and spat into the tin. It made a popping sound and then he wiped his lips with the back of his sleeve. It was a gross habit. It certainly made his teeth look damn nasty. They were brown and one of the bottom ones was missing.

  “Look, you want to know the truth. I worked at the Lodge at the Edge of Green Bank for over thirteen years as a handyman. I even had a place there. When these women started turning up, I lost everything. Not just a job. I lost my family, my freedom but most of all my reputation. It’s shot. No one will hire me now.”

  “So how do you make a living?”

  “I have a few friends. Those who knew me well enough to know that I wouldn’t have done what they said I did. I do work for them from time to time. Farming and odd jobs. It doesn’t pay much.”

  “And this place?” Jack asked looking around. “How did you afford this?”

  He squinted, spitting again into the tin. “It was mothers. She’s dead.”

  The words lingered in the air and Jack wondered if this guy was capable of killing his own mother. If surface details revealed what lay beneath, no wonder the police had him as a suspect.

  “So they took an interest in you because your ex told them? Or because you had installed cameras in the motel you were working at?”

  He scoffed as if finding Jack’s question amusing. “Like I told the police, prostitutes used to use the motel all the time. My boss wanted them gone. Now I couldn’t just go kicking out every single woman who looked like a whore, now could I? But I had a job to do, and so I installed cameras in rooms.”

  “That’s an invasion of privacy.”

  He chewed hard. “My boss told me to do it. Of course, the bastard denied it later when someone found one.” He shook his head and reached over and grabbed up a glass of iced tea and sipped at it. Once he set it back down, he continued. “The whole story changed. Now I was a pervert.”

  “So you didn’t watch the videos?”

  “Of course I did. Didn’t you hear what I said? He wanted me to find out who they were and kick them out. I couldn’t do that without seeing what was taking place. Some of the women didn’t return and there were new faces all the time.”

  “And what about the images on your computer?”

  “When this all blew up, they confiscated my computers and then word got out I had porn on them. Like, who doesn’t?”

  “Did you?”

  “This is America, Mr. Winchester. The sex trade is the biggest business in the world. What I do with my time in the privacy of my home is no one else’s business, certainly not those who would point the finger but do the same goddamn thing.” He leaned back and took another sip of his drink before spitting again in the bucket.

  “So who do you think is responsible?” Jack asked.

  He sniffed hard. “You know what they call motels like the Lodge on the Edge of Green Bank?”

  He shrugged.

  “No-tell motels. And believe me, there is a lot that goes on in those places. If people knew the kind of men that frequented that motel to have sex with prostitutes, a lot of people in high places would be out of a job.”

  “So how did you learn about the Green Bank Five?�
�

  “It was all over the local news and papers. You couldn’t switch to a new channel without seeing something come up. I’d seen these girls. They came here on numerous occasions before my boss wanted them out.”

  “So it’s possible you might have seen who was responsible for their disappearances?” Jack asked.

  “Mr. Winchester. I can throw a few names out there, and I did but the police never looked into them. The media sure overlooked them. Why? Because no one would believe they were capable of doing it, except me. And that’s another story. Look, I was doing my job. Doing what I was told, and now what do I have to show for it?”

  “Names like who?”

  He sucked at his lips before spitting another black wad into the tin. He studied Jack’s face as if trying to determine whether he should entrust him with such information. In all the news clippings that he’d read so far, he’d seen the name Tim several times but there was no mention of anyone else except Karl Fraser. Though being fair, he’d barely scratched the surface of Jenna’s files.

  “Tim Mathers, the pastor of New Hope, Deputy Rigby, and Peter Dixon.”

  “Rachel Dixon’s husband?” Meghan asked.

  He nodded.

  “A pastor and a deputy?”

  Karl got this grin on his face. “Like I said, Mr. Winchester, all types showed up at that motel at all hours. That’s why they buried me. It was easier to just have me accused than for it to get out that two of West Virginia’s finest are getting blowjobs in some seedy motel on the edge of town.”

  Jack blew out his cheeks and ran a hand across his face. He was beginning to see why Jenna was so afraid. This went beyond the search for a serial killer; it reached deep into the heart of a community. A community entrenched in secrets, lies and a cover-up.

  “You wanted the truth. That’s it.”

  Jack gazed off across the open fields towards a large barn. He contemplated the distance it would have taken to get from Karl’s home to the pay phone. It was possible that she could have run. Jack turned his attention back to the house where the dog was barking non-stop. It seemed a little convenient that he would put the dog inside and not just leash it up elsewhere outside. Was he hiding something?

  “You know there are some who would say that you could have been behind the murders.”

  “Yeah? Who?”

  “What can you tell me about Bailey Montgomery?” Jack asked, remembering the audio he’d listened to between Jenna and Bailey. His name had also come up in one of the most recent statements Jenna had on the voice recorder from another escort who had been assaulted. Had two managed to get away?

  He snorted, spat the remainder of his tobacco out and got this really uncomfortable look on his face. His cheeks went flushed, and he reached up and touched a small scar on his neck. He then took out a packet of Marlboro Lights and tapped one out. “I met her online.”

  “She said you met up with her close to the Locust Hill Inn, you took her to a secluded spot, had sex with her and tried to kill her.”

  “I didn’t kill her. That dumb bitch tried to steal my wallet.”

  “So you tried to stop her.”

  “I tried to get my wallet back, she cut my face with a set of keys and raced off into the forest. I lost over three hundred and fifty dollars that night because of that whore.”

  Jack noticed Meghan’s demeanor change. Her jaw clenched and her hands balled. The way he talked about them as if they were nothing but meat didn’t exactly help his credibility.

  “So they gave you nine months for illegal videotaping. That’s it?” Jack asked.

  “Yep.”

  Meghan’s eyebrow arched. “Interesting how in those nine months no other women went missing.”

  Karl lit his cigarette and eyed her while squinting as smoke rose above him. He tapped his finger towards her. “I know you.” He tapped the side of his temple a few times. “Yeah, I remember now. You’re one of the whores that used to show up at the motel.”

  She shifted in her seat and Jack placed a hand on her knee and gave it a squeeze. She glanced at him and he shook his head. It was obvious she was insulted by the way he spoke about her, who wouldn’t be? But they had to tread carefully.

  “You think I can use your bathroom?” Jack asked.

  Karl’s eyes bounced from her to him. “Sorry, it’s not working right now.”

  Jack sniffed hard. “Well, I guess we’ll be going.”

  He didn’t have to tell Meghan, she was already up and marching to the Shelby. He rose from his seat, thanked Karl for his time and headed back to the vehicle. When he slipped in and started the engine, it roared to life.

  “Fucking nerve of the guy,” Meghan said. She was seething.

  As they pulled away, Jack looked in his rearview mirror and noticed Karl had come down off his porch to watch them leave. For someone who was apparently innocent, he didn’t exactly help himself. His weird behavior and clear disgust of prostitutes would keep him at the top of Jack’s list. At least now he had a few more potential suspects that he could cross-check with Jenna’s case files.

  Chapter 19

  Bonnie had her head in the rear of her vehicle when Aaron crossed the lot. He knew that rushing in might attract too much attention, so he moved in cautiously. They had parked a few vehicles down and Dale was ready in the driver’s seat if things went south. Aaron pulled the revolver from the back of his waistband and kept low, and out of view.

  This was going to be easy.

  She wasn’t going to know what hit her.

  Bonnie was bent over sorting through a load of washing when he shoved her inside the vehicle.

  “Don’t fucking say a word,” he said pressing the barrel into the soft portion of her side. He slid in beside her and shut the door. It was smooth, done in one go and with little commotion. Her face was distraught. Shock. Horror. Surprise. It was all there. She knew this was coming. He reached into his pocket and pulled out zip ties that were already looped.

  “Put them on.”

  “Aaron, please.”

  “Fucking put them on.” He pressed the barrel hard into her side. Scared, she complied, and he pulled the end tight so her wrists were bound. He took the other and pulled off her flip-flops and looped it over her feet. A quick tug and it cut into her skin. She let out a cry, and he smiled. That was nothing to what was coming.

  “Give me the keys.”

  “But — ”

  “The keys!”

  She motioned to her pocket, and he dug around for them, then squeezed from the back to the front of the vehicle and turned over the engine. He kept one hand on her head, keeping her down. Slowly he reversed out and pulled up beside his truck. Billy was at the rear waiting for him. He gave Billy a nod, and he hopped in the back to keep her from freaking out.

  That’s when the pleading began.

  It was a pitiful attempt at trying to appeal to his good nature. But it wouldn’t work as he didn’t have one. Not for her. Not for anyone in this Godforsaken town.

  “Aaron, please, I have a daughter now. I’m sorry about what happened.”

  “Sorry?” He kept a firm grip on the steering wheel as they pulled out and headed towards the highway. “Sorry doesn’t get me back the time I did inside. Sorry doesn’t do shit for me.”

  “Look, you want me back. I’m back.”

  He laughed and eyed Billy in the rear. “You hear that, Billy. She’s back. That’s it. All is good. She’s ready to spread her legs again and pucker up those lips. Just like that.”

  Billy chuckled a little but looked nervous. He wasn’t used to dealing with backstabbing whores. But Aaron was. He’d had plenty of experience with the little games they liked to play. They would say anything to get out of a beating. The times he would make them give him head before beating them black and blue was too numerous to count.

  “Well I’m afraid, sweet Bonnie, it doesn’t work that way. You see, there are rules. You break those rules, there are consequences. Just like I had to do time be
cause you opened your fucking mouth.”

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “No? Then how did Larson know it was me? You must think I’m stupid. Well, now you’re going to learn.”

  “Aaron. I’ll do whatever you want. You want me to turn tricks, it’s done. You want me to quit my job at the bar, it’s done.”

  “Oh it’s done all right,” he said heading south on Highway 219 for Watago State Park. He knew the area well. He and Merle had spent many a night camping out underneath the stars when they were kids. Back then life wasn’t as complicated. He smashed the wheel with his fists several times at the thought of his brother in custody. His eyes flitted to the mirror to remind himself of the one responsible.

  It didn’t take long to reach the narrow trail that weaved its way into the heart of the 10,000-acre forest. It was the largest one in West Virginia, a sprawling woodland that was frequented by campers, hikers, and youngsters looking to get their kicks. Oh, he was going to get his kicks today. The car soared over bumps, and through thick brush that hadn’t been touched. No one knew about this entrance, or where it led. People got lost out there all the time. He pressed the accelerator hard and gave it some gas so they could reach the destination faster. His heartbeat was pulsating harder from all the excitement.

  As he burst out of the dense path, they arrived at the spot that had once been their camping retreat. A place they caught rabbits, cooked them over a fire and mulled over their dreams of the future. Most of those dreams dissolved because life had got in the way, the police had got in the way, and whores like Bonnie. Well, now he was going to make it difficult for her.

  He brought the car to a grinding halt and turned around.

  “Time for some fun.”

  He let out a laugh and pushed his way out of the vehicle. Moving around to the back, he opened the door, grabbed her by the ankles and dragged her out. Her head hit the hard soil and she let out a groan. He pressed his foot on her back to hold her in place until Dale arrived. The truck emerged and fumes poured out the back. As soon as Dale was out, he went around to where Bonnie was and dragged her to her knees, pulled out his revolver and forced it into her mouth.