What did matter was that Roy saw the victim often. Did he see her before she was murdered? Could he have had something to do with it?
The thought sent chills down his spine.
Then he saw it. Roy had arrested Jo’s husband Joel two weeks before her disappearance on a DUI. Jo had come to the station and reamed Roy out for treating a neighbor in such a way.
Jake sat up straighter, his heart pounding unevenly in his chest.
Lynn had made the comment at the bottom of the report of the conversation she’d evidently overheard. “How could you do this? We’re neighbors. Doesn’t that mean anything?” Lynn had intervened, told Jo how Roy could have saved Joel’s life, or someone else’s.
Jake put the report down.
Roy had means, opportunity, and motive, the trifecta in a murder investigation.
Lynn liked Roy, trusted him——worked with him every day. How in the world could Jake present her with the theory that the man she’d known all her life——one who carried a gun, and a badge, could possibly be the villain?
For now, he’d watch the deputy closely and keep his mouth shut.
But not for long.
He got up, headed for Lynn’s office to see if she’d gotten back. Even without his suspicions about Roy, they had to discuss the case.
He knocked on the door and was pleased to hear her call out for him to come in. Not so pleased to see who was sitting across from her.
“You remember Roy Webb, don’t you?”
“Of course. Jake Mackenzie, in case you’ve forgotten.” They shook hands.
Jake gave the man a careful look. His face was open——his eyes clear. He didn’t look or act like a killer. Then Jake remembered all those who went before and hid their evil behind a smile, including John Wayne Gacy and Jeffrey Dahmer.
Taking the only other chair, he asked, “Have you come up with anything since I saw you?”
“I have,” Roy said, his voice low and troubled.
“Before he tells you his theory, I want you to know that I think he’s about as far off-base as one can get.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“I noticed the victims’ haircuts at the scene. I didn’t know until now, though I should have realized it, their hair had been colored as well.”
“And?” Jake asked, wondering where this was going.
Roy looked over at Lynn. “Remember when you had your hair cut the same as the victims? If I recall correctly you got it cut shorter just before the first victim, Sherry Miles, went missing.”
“What are you getting at?” Jake asked. “Whatever it is, spit it out.”
“Okay. Here goes. I know it sounds far-fetched, but it’s something. All of the victims were young. All pretty. Just like Lynn. Their hair and eyes weren’t the same color, but the killer didn’t let that stop him. He chopped off their hair to match Lynn’s, then dyed it for the same reason.”
“Are you suggesting the unsub is really after Lynn?” Jake froze at the thought.
Roy sat back, deflated. “I know it sounds crazy. But can you explain the similarities any other way?”
Jake was so stunned he couldn’t speak. When he’d first entered the office and seen Deputy Roy Webb, he was telling himself he’d found a viable suspect. Now that same deputy was putting out a scenario that sounded plausible. He hadn’t thought of the haircuts as being styled after Lynn’s. But it had been a long time since he’d seen her. Then, her hair was long, past her shoulders, and a pretty light brown. Now it was just as pretty, but curled at her neck.
He looked over at Lynn. Saw the denial on her face and in her eyes. “Why do you want to brush this off?”
“Because, as far as I know, I haven’t teed off anyone enough to make them want to kill me. I don’t see why we should waste time on something this far-fetched. We have a killer to catch; one who has been evading us for two years. We don’t have time for anything else.”
“Roy could be right, Lynn. Maybe the hair and hair color isn’t a coincidence. I don’t think we should ignore this.”
She dropped her head in her hands, shook it back and forth. “It’s simply not possible.”
“You don’t know that for a fact,” Jake told her. “Until we do, we’ll work under the assumption that the unsub is watching you. Maybe waiting for the right time to strike.”
She raised her head, looked at him. “We don’t even know how he’s killing his victims.”
“After what we saw today, what do you think?’
“Poison,” she said in resignation. “But what kind? Where did he buy it? How will we find him?”
“That’s why we’re here,” Roy put in. “We’ll keep you safe. And we’ll find this unsub, as the agent calls him.”
Jake shot a glance at the man sitting next to him. Roy had a gleam in his eyes. He was ready to get to the job at hand. Maybe he wanted to be the hero who found the killer. Or maybe he was the killer and determined to keep his identity hidden. Who would know which he was?
What Jake did know was that instead of thinking Roy Webb was guilty of wrongdoing, he was beginning to think the man was just as Lynn described him. Good at his job and gung-ho to make his mark.
He’d better be.
Jake’s brain was capable of holding more than one line of thinking.
He tucked Roy to the side of his head where he kept information he could pull to the forefront in an instant.
As Roy strode out of the office, Jake warned him, “No one other than the three of us is to know that Lynn could be the real target. Got it? No one.”
“Got it, Special Agent Mackenzie. Loud and clear.”
“I don’t think your deputy likes me,” Jake said when the door closed. “Actually, I don’t think he liked me when we were kids.”
“You were everything he wasn’t. It was a jealousy thing. You had it all. Good parents, money, a terrific house. He lived in a trailer with two drunken parents and had to scrabble his way out.” Her face turned stubborn. “I admire him for that.”
“I don’t think he knew back then that he had a lot going for him.”
Her brow wrinkled. “What do you mean?”
“Good looks, a bright mind, and a determination to better himself would put him right where he is. And who knows, he might make mayor yet.”
Lynn chuckled.
“Now, let’s get down to business.” Jake pulled his chair closer. “How the hell do you propose we keep you safe?”
Chapter Six
Lynn had been keeping herself safe for years; she didn’t need anyone to help her. Try as she might, she couldn’t fathom the scenario Roy had put before her. The coincidence could be just that. A coincidence. Perhaps the killer’s mother had light brown hair bobbed below the ear. Or, it could be a girl friend who had done him wrong. She simply wouldn’t accept the theory he was centered on her.
“You can move in with me until this is over.”
She jerked out of her thoughts to stare at Mackenzie in disbelief. “Are you kidding? As of this minute, this office will disregard any reference to the killer tied to me in any way. Is that understood? Roy can go thrashing about on his own, but you and I will stick to the facts.”
“Just exactly what do we know? Fact-wise, that is?”
She held up a finger. “We pretty much know the killer used poison. We know he has a fixation on a certain hair color and style. I think he’s a local. All of the victims disappeared before tourist season really began. So I have a hard time placing one of them in the role of a killer. They’re here to have a good time, not do something like this.” She paused. “I’ll have a deputy check the newspaper archives to see if they can find someone in the last five years in the news who meets the description of the victims.”
“That’ll take a while. We’re going to need more help. I sent my report to my boss. Your numbers are small. They’ll give us a hand. He got right back to me, said they were on their way and should be here,” he looked at his watch, “in the next hour. We have to get on
this fast.”
“Good. Even then, we’ll have to use our resources wisely. I’ll want the area where the bodies were found searched in a five-mile radius. I want the lake dragged for the missing vehicles. I want every house, every barn, every run-down hut checked out. I want the bastard found. I’ll need help in coordinating the search so we don’t step over each other.”
“It’s on my list.” He stood to leave. “I’ll get a graph going so the search will be an organized one.”
He stopped at the door when the phone rang.
She picked it up with an angry jerk. No serial killer in her county was going to get away with this.
“Sheriff Lawton,” she barked.
“What’s going on, Sheriff?” the mayor sneered in a loud, high-pitched voice that made Lynn wince.
She didn’t like the man. He was a five-foot-six overweight bully, at least around her. Around the locals, he was sunny and positive. Lucky for her, his term would be up next year.
“I think you know the situation, Mayor. We’re doing our best to find the killer. The FBI is on the premises and is sending more help.”
“How many more women are going to disappear on your watch? You couldn’t find the victims when they first went missing. What makes you think you can find their killer? I won’t have this in my town. Understand? Lobster Cove relies on the tourist trade. Without it, we’ll lose money, lots of money. We can’t afford for them to pack up and leave.” He snorted. “Never thought you’d be good at this job in the first place. Women have no business wearing badges or carrying guns.”
“Thank you for your input, Mayor.” Quietly she put the receiver down.
“I heard that,” Mackenzie said. “Sorry.”
“He’s an ass. I have no intention of wasting my time on him.”
The phone rang again.
She stood, then nearly knocked Mackenzie down as she went to the door and stormed over to the dispatcher’s desk. “No more calls from the mayor,” she told Patty. Patty had been doing the same job for twenty years and knew everyone and everything that went on in Lobster Cove. Lynn reminded herself to have a quiet conversation with Patty later.
Patty looked up at her with distress. “What about the reporters? I’m bombarded with calls. If this keeps up, we’ll need more lines and more people to answer the phone.”
Mackenzie had followed her out. “Add that to your list, Mackenzie. We need those lines and the people to man them, pronto.” She turned back to Patty. “No calls from the press either. We have a killer to find.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The outer door opened and people streamed in. Lynn recognized a reporter from the The Lobster Cove Anchor. A newscaster from a Bar Harbor station she watched. Angry townspeople. In the back, she saw Beth trying to elbow her way in with a box in hand. Lynn looked at her watch. Where had the day gone? There was one man behind bars and it was time for his meal.
She looked around for Roy. Saw him talking to Deputy Janie Seabrook. Smart and pretty, Lynn was glad to have her. Especially now.
She waved the deputy over. “Help Beth through the crowd.”
Janie went to do as she was told.
Lynn’s gaze swept over the crowd. A loud buzz of voices demanded her attention. She didn’t have time for this. She glanced out the window. More reporters were camping outside. Wanting answers, she was sure. She didn’t know where they had all come from, but she had to get them out of here.
“Do you want me to handle this?” Mackenzie whispered.
“No.” She held up a hand until there was quiet. “I know you have questions, but right now we’re in the middle of an intense investigation. If you don’t have direct business with this office, please leave us to do our job.”
“Doesn’t look as if you’ve done a very good job so far, Sheriff,” a voice rang out.
“Yeah.” Others chimed in.
Mackenzie motioned for Roy and Janie. “Get them out of here. Now.”
In minutes, the place was clear of all but those who belonged there. Beth stood beside Roy. She looked shell-shocked.
“Sons-of-bitches,” Roy exclaimed. “How do they expect us to do our job with them breathing down our necks?”
“Do we still have men at the scene of the crime?” Lynn asked.
“You bet. Around the clock.”
“Good. Get a team to the lake. Have them dredge for the missing cars. If we find them, we might find something that will help.”
“On it,” Roy said, leaving his wife standing there. He went to his cubicle and picked up his phone.
“How many deputies do we have for the search?” Mackenzie asked Lynn.
She looked out the window at the chaos, confusion, and fear on the faces in the crowd. And prayed they’d find the killer before he killed again.
“Lynn?”
She turned back to see Mackenzie staring at her. “Sorry. What did you say?”
“How many deputies do you have for the search?”
She looked over at Roy. He’d be good, but she needed him in a dozen places. Two men were at the scene. “I can pull a few off other jobs. That’ll give us four. If you have to have him, you can have Roy But that leaves us with nobody to take normal calls.”
The door opened again. Everyone looked up. “Arrest every reporter who comes in without a legitimate reason,” Lynn said, raising her voice. Then realized that a dozen or more men and women in suits and ties had entered and were standing at attention. One of the men came up to her, handed over his credentials. “FBI. Name’s Larsen, Special Agent Gary Larson. We’re here to give Special Agent Mackenzie a hand.”
“Good to have you on board,” Lynn shook his hand, her feeling of relief profound. Everything was crowding in on her. The murders. Reporters. All of it. She needed stability. Seeing this bunch of trained professionals gave her hope. “Special Agent Mackenzie here is familiar with the area and will organize the search. Bring your findings to him or to me.” She gave out her cell number, had them put it into their phones. “No matter how insignificant a find, let one of us know, so it can be checked out.”
Mackenzie walked over to the agent and shook hands. “Good to see you, Gary. Did you ask for this assignment?”
“You bet I did. Not often we get assigned to a case where there’s a serial killer involved.”
A female agent stepped up. “Good to see you again, Jake.”
“Riley Sampson. It’s been a while. Did you ask for this assignment, too?”
“You bet your sweet ass I did.”
Mackenzie had his back to Lynn. She took the opportunity to check him out. Agent Sampson was absolutely right. Just how well did she know that cute ass?
Disgusted with herself for caring, she followed Mackenzie to his office where he gave the agents the specifics of the case, showed them the murder board he’d put up with the three victims pictures and all they knew about them so far. He told them to look for a place where the murders could have taken place, discarded hair, bottles or boxes of poison, even hair dye. He ordered one of his agents to canvass the local pharmacies, landscaping, and exterminating companies for suspicious amounts or types of poisons purchased over the last two years.
When he’d told them all he could, and there were no more questions, he told Sampson and another agent to stay to help with the phones. Sampson objected. Mackenzie insisted he needed her here. Did he? Or did he just want her close by?
Agent Riley Sampson sat down next to a phone with a pout. Undoubtedly, her conversation with Mackenzie wasn’t over.
The other agents followed him to his truck where they would follow him to the scene of the crime.
Lynn watched them leave with a knot in her throat and a tightness in her gut.
She turned away from the scene of the crowd gathering outside in the street, told Roy where to put the new lines for the phones, and assigned the two agents left behind to help Patty until the new lines were put in.
Patty’s phone never stopped ringing. It was going to dr
ive Lynn crazy.
She grabbed her keys and slipped out the back door to her cruiser. Several people she’d interrogated when the women went missing were going to get another visit from the sheriff.
Chapter Seven
Poor pretty sheriff. She doesn’t know what to do or how to do it. How great is that?
The killer studied the faces in the crowd. Some were anxious, some angry.
Didn’t matter. Those who thought the sheriff would come through were in for a surprise.
After tending to business, the killer walked through the crowd, barely able to keep a smile from breaking through.
This was way too much fun.
****
Clyde Orenson waved to Lynn when she opened the door of the B&B. He’d taken an old two story, added gingerbread trim, painted the house white, the trim dark green, and ended up with an attractive B&B that fit right in with Lobster Cove and its quaint shops.
In jeans, T-shirt, and sneakers, he seemed younger than forty-five. Lynn watched as he moved toward her. He was big. Biceps bulged under the T-shirt. Strong, too——strong enough to haul the body of a young girl from his car to the grave.
She shook the image from her head. She couldn’t allow herself to indulge in fantasies that could be just that. Fantasies.
Except that Clyde had come to town right before Sherry, the first victim went missing. Plus, Jo had worked for him. Twice a month she’d taken care of the books. Clyde’s records were meticulously kept, every last cent accounted for. Lynn had run into Jo on the sidewalk one day and confided that Clyde was a money-pincher. When she’d chided him over it, he’d told Jo that he had to make a success of the B&B or go onto something else. Evidently, Clyde was one of those men who had to be a success in life.
“Hi, Sheriff. With all that’s going on, I’m surprised you’re here. What can I do for you?”
“You heard about the bodies?”
His face wrinkled in concern. Or was it an act? She couldn’t tell. Was she losing her intuition?
“From at least three people.”
Lynn nodded. Of course he would. “The place looks nice.” He kept it that way. Clean. Neat. The sun’s rays brightened the big entry where a table stood with a vase of fresh flowers. A staircase led upstairs where he had remodeled four bedrooms for prospective guests. To the back, down the hall was a large dining room and a big kitchen. The plain two-story now looked more like one of the Victorian houses in the area.
Catch Me If You Can Page 4