“Yes, spot on,”SAC Smith says, and then nods toward Captain Meyers. “Your boy here’s on top of his game.”
SAC Smith returns his attention to me. “Detective, you interested in working for the FBI?”
Captain Meyers isn’t the toughest captain Newport PD’s ever had, but he’s our star administrator, and from his dark scowl it appears he’s unwilling to let me go, even if he hates me personally because of Darlene Laws, even if I do cavort with Megalo Don’s sister.
“He’s perfectly happy working here, Agent Smith,”the captain says. “I suggest we keep focused on the task at hand, not recruiting NPD officers for Quantico.”
“At least we got the Coke truck back,”Wes says. “Property logged it in to their inventory this morning. That’s progress.”
Ignoring Wes’ acid tone, SAC Smith continues,“Yes, well, so far Megalo Don’s collected fourteen teeth in Ohio”—he rakes his gaze around the room, letting it land on everyone—“and six in Kentucky and—”
Finally seeing his chance to interrupt, Sheriff Cornwell says,“Hold on a damn minute. Let’s back up, Nell. What does Doctor Verbote use to make these so-called renderings of his? How do we know we’re working with solid evidence?”
He’s the only sheriff left in Kentucky who hasn’t earned a high school diploma. He was re-elected before the state upheld the new law that all law enforcement officers must have at least a high school education, if not college. He’s been grandfathered in.
SAC Smith, seeing Captain Meyers’ threatening glare, his attempt to stop Sheriff Cornwell from putting his foot in his mouth and embarrassing NPD, stops and politely answers the old sheriff’s question. “It’s a nifty little computer program called TIDBIT.”
“Couldn’t he just eyeball the damn bite wounds and match‘em up?”Cornwell says, ignoring Captain Meyers’ stabbing glares.
Kudos, Old Boy.
I cheer Sheriff Cornwell on. Maybe I’ve been wrong about Megalo targeting Alaina as my next victim. After all, if he’s only collected twenty teeth so far, fourteen in Ohio and six in Kentucky, then he’s still got twelve to go. That means six more female vics before Megalo finishes his complete set of thirty two. That’s twelve more teeth he needs before he gets to the point where he takes his last two teeth and, maybe, before he thinks of targeting Alaina.
“As I was saying,”SAC Smith says, moving on,“seven vics in Ohio, three right here in Kentucky, and,”he adds, acknowledging everyone’s inhale as they hold their collective breath,“five vics in Indiana. So far he’s collected thirty teeth.”
Hellfire! Megalo Don’s got his thirty teeth!
“That means he needs only two more,”I say, my blood pressure skyrocketing.
The other commonality Alaina shared with Angie Miller and, maybe Meera—who knows at this point?—was the fact she danced at Omar’s. Megalo has a foot fetish, a thing for young dancers, and gets off on biting them ante moren and torturing them to death with sadistic sexual rituals. She must be next.
Quietly, I experience my ah-ha moment. Alaina works for Bite Doc. She has access to the materials Megalo needs to make his mouth grills, the retainers that not only hide his DNA from investigators, but which also enable him to get a sexual thrill by leaving his distinctive signature on his victims’ shoulders. Whoever knows this fact about Alaina could be Megalo Don. This narrows my suspect list considerably.
“Anything you’d like to share with us, Detective?” SAC Smith glances at me, interrupting my reverie, my private case review.
“Who the hell is Meera?”I ask. “Does the FBI know? As far as I know, she’s the first vic found in Kentucky. Other than our Jane Doe we found in the alley last night, she’s the only one we’ve been unable to identify.”
SAC Smith frowns. “We don’t know, either,”he says, apologetic. “Like you, she’s the only vic we can’t identify. We’ve identified the rest, including those from Indiana, but not Meera. And, of course, we’re waiting to ID your Jane Doe.”
“Guess that darn tiddly-wink computer program of Bite Doc’s can’t solve homicides, can it?”Sheriff Cornwell sniggers.
No one corrects him. Tiddly-wink. TIDBIT. No one cares any less than Sheriff Cornwell to know what Bite Doc does with his strange computer program.
“Sounds to me like we need some good old fashioned legwork to find this sonofabitch,”the sheriff adds. To his credit, and despite his rude manners, he’s got one of the highest solve rates in NPD history.
I gaze at the old boy. I agree with him, but I’ve also got to admit that Bite Doc’s computer technology set me on the path to discovering who Megalo Don is. “Without HVO,”I say,“I’d never have identified the Don’s signature or his MO. It works, Sheriff,”I say. “It works, but it’s got its limitations as prosecutorial evidence.”
“Mebbe so, mebbe so,”Sheriff Cornwell says, standing and holding his back against the crippling arthritis pain. “But I’ll wager the Don’s snickering right now behind them there whatchimacallits he wears when he chomps his victims—?”
“Grills,”I say. “They’re called Grills—”
Everyone’s glaring. The old sheriff has pushed his opinion too far. “Shut up, Boyd,”Mayor Darlene Laws says, aggravated. “If you can’t add anything, then leave.”
“Shut up yourself, woman. Don’t give me orders,”the old boy growls. He isn’t much for technology, or for long meetings, either. To his credit, he also doesn’t tolerate open hostility and rudeness from Mayor Darlene Laws.
I also hate long meetings, and this one’s turning murderously lengthy. Somehow, I’ve got to escape. I’ve got to figure out the answers to my questions about who knows Alaina and where she works. I’m sure as hell not getting that done sitting here. I toss DeeDee a scowl. If she’d done her leg work like I told her and found out who Alaina’s friends are, we’d be ahead of the game right now.
Captain Meyers once again comes through with a stroke of brilliant team leadership. “Let’s take a brief break. Everyone be back here in fifteen minutes.”
“Wait a minute,”Wes says. “We came to review evidence. Taking a break’s only going to make this harder, and I doubt Megalo’s taking any breaks.”
I shoot him a mental high five.
“Alright,”the captain says. “Carry on.”
“We have more evidence,”DeeDee says.
I groan. She’s probably going to talk about the garbage bag with the shoulder in it.
Go ahead. Make an even bigger ass out of your jealous self.
All I want to do is dispense with the bureaucratic bullshit and go find answers to the questions she should’ve already researched. Now I’ll have to listen to her rant, worried Megalo’s out there stalking my Alaina.
My Alaina? Did I just call her myAlaina? I sigh, gaze into my empty coffee cup. I have so little time. She’s due to be in her nine o’clock class shortly, but because of what’s happening, I’m sure she’ll not go.
I try imagining where she might be. Her apartment’s a crime scene, and ribboned off, so she’s not there. She’s got no other place to go that I know of, and her brother’s being hunted for murder. No doubt she’s looking for him.
“Break,”Captain Meyers repeates half an hour later.
This time, we don’t argue.
Chapter 44
When Wes and I show up back at the coffee pot, DeeDee’s kissing up to Agent Smith. Poor guy. I should warn him.
“You want‘ass’”—some ice—“for your Coke?”she asks the SAC.
“No, I’m good, thanks,”he says, distancing himself politely from DeeDee, yet still managing to elicit a smile.
Why can’t I be that smooth? Instead of distancing myself from her, I invited her into my life. I made the mistake of asking DeeDee to dinner to pick her brains for info about what she and Captain Meyers and Mayor Laws are up to.
At this point, watching SAC Smith politely rebuff DeeDee’s advances, I have to ask myself: who gives a damn?
I don’t.
“L
et’s go,”I say to Wes, enjoying DeeDee’s scowl. “We’ve got a meeting to finish.”
Wes and I leave them and rejoin the meeting. Sheriff Cornwell took off, a good thing since Meyers was close to shooting him. DeeDee arrives back at the meeting with SAC Smith, smiling and more eager to slam me.
“If y’all don’t mind, I’ll start us off.” She glances at the SAC. “I agree with Agent Smith. What’s important now is locking down evidence and linking it to a suspect. Well,”she continues brightly,“We have a suspect. We found Robin Colby’s overnight bag in a Coca-Cola truck stolen by his sister from behind Omar’s.”
Whoosh! Up go my hackles. “I think we need evidence other than an overnight bag to get a conviction,”I say,“especially now that we’re talking serial murders.”
“There was nothing but underwear and socks in that overnight bag, Miz Laws.” Wes, the quintessential sexist, emphasizes her stated role as NPD’s feminist dick and future administrator. “How’s that evidence?”
“It’s not,”she answers truthfully. In present company, any attempt to deceive would be met with ruthless resistance. She knows it, exploits it. “But that bag’s bound to have Robin Colby’s fingerprints on it, the same, possibly, as that garbage bag we found in their freezer. Withthat girl’s chewed-up shoulder,”she adds.
“Proving nothing,”Wes says,“other than the fact he touched his own overnight bag.”
“Proving he could have been in the Coke truck in which the bag was found, or from which it was taken,”DeeDee argues. “And we have a witness who places him in that truck the night Angie Miller’s body was dumped in the alley behind Omar’s.”
“Holy crap!”someone mutters. It’s Sheriff Cornwell, returning late from an extended bathroom break. He’s not keen on women, unless they’re barefoot and pregnant, but DeeDee’s old fashioned footwork’s obviously impressed him.
“It’s a circumstantial connection to Angie Miller’s murder,”I agree. The same as Wes and Sheriff Cornwell, I grudgingly admit DeeDee’s evidence, while circumstantial, will hold up in court. “But nevertheless it’s a decent one.”
“Sure thing,”Sheriff Cornwell pipes. “It could get Robin Colby a chemical cocktail in the hands of the right prosecutor and jury.”
He’s right. Alaina’s brother is in deep trouble, and Rookie Laws is going to make sure he stays that way. I gaze at her. Ass kicker. Boot licker. Bureaucrat, who’ll one day make a fine NPD captain.
“How do you think Jane Doe’s shoulder got in that fridge?”DeeDee asks, challenging everyone, especially me, to explain.
Wes’ dark eyes snap. “It could easily have been planted. I think we need more than a shoulder in the ice box of”—he turns to me—“what’s this Colby girl’s name? The suspect’s sister?”
“Alaina,”I say, wishing Wes’d quit asking as if I’m the Alaina Colby expert. If there was any doubt before about who the NPD detective hob-nobbing with Megalo Don’s sister is, there is none now.
Thanks, Wes. I shoot him a dark gaze. He smiles, continues chewing his toothpick.
“Detective Hawks is correct,”SAC Smith says, ignoring DeeDee’s glare. “We need to stay focused on linking the evidence, whatever we find, to the crime. And then we need to link our suspect—whether it’s Robin Colby or someone else—to the crime.”
“What’s going on with this Robin Colby?”Captain Meyers asks. “Has anyone been able to round him up for questioning?”
“Well, no, sir. We can’t locate him,”DeeDee says, her pointed stare making me shrug. I hope she’s getting my message: it’s not my turn to watch him.
“We’ve put out a BOLO on him early this morning,”Wes says. “Every law officer in Ohio and Kentucky is now on the lookout for him. We’ll add Indiana to our list.”
DeeDee, furious, shoots Wes a chilly glare. “Detective Gillam, why didn’t you tell me about the BOLO? I will notbe excluded from this investigation.” She glances at me, then back at Wes, accusing. Clearly, she believes Wes and I are colluding. It’s the farthest thing from my mind. “Sorry, I had no idea the BOLO was issued,”I say. “I’d have informed you.”
Wes cuts her no slack. “Why would you need to know?”he says. “It’s a BOLO for Christ’s sake, and you’ve not exactly been forthcoming with us, have you, Miz Laws?”
I’m worried. I could cut the tension between these two with a knife. If they keep it up, our review’s going to deteriorate into open warfare. That’s not why we’re here.
“Why don’t you sit down so we can move forward?”Wes says, and then turns to Mayor Laws, who’s been scowling at him for several minutes. “Don’t look so offended, Ma’am,”he says,“she’s the one who leaked to the Enquirer, not Detective Hawks. She’s a rookie, I know, but that’s no damned excuse. That’s not how we operate here at NPD.”
“Captain Meyers,”the mayor says, flying at Wes and defending her daughter,“I can’t believe you’d tolerate such behavior—”
“Hold it!” Captain Meyers slaps his hand on the conference table and points at Wes. “That’s enough, Gillam. And Darlene? You sit down and shut up.”
Mayor Laws glowers, remains standing. Wes looks smug. I just want to escape this incestuous fracas, but know I’ve got to see the meeting through to its conclusion. We’ve all got to work together. Alaina’s life depends on it.
“DeeDee’s got some valid points,”I say. “I think she can help us considerably if she’ll check Alaina’s friends, as I asked her to last night.”
Any one of the people sitting at the conference table could knock DeeDee over with a feather. They’re not expecting me to defend her. She’s not, either. She stares at me, looking uncertain. I shoot her a smile. I’ve caught her off guard by being nice. Maybe she can learn something. Maybe. You don’t roll over on your partner: you support her, no matter what. She’s shrewd and calculating, but I can hope she’s getting the lesson I’m trying to teach.
“As it happens,”she continues,“I did exactly what you asked, Detective Hawks.”
I nod my approval. There’s a first time for everything.
“And what did you come up with?”Wes growls.
SAC Smith looks equally impatient.
“What did you find?”Captain Meyers adds, apparently losing patience with his golden girl.
“She hangs out with a character called Stokley Farrel.”
“Does she have any other friends?”Wes demands, chewing hell out of his toothpick.
“Not any more,”DeeDee says. “Megalo Don killed her other friend, Angie Miller.”
When I hear the name, Stokley Farrel, I smile at DeeDee, approving. She’s put me on the hot seat by giving Tim Stewart theEnquirer’sscoop on the shoulder in Alaina’s fridge, and worse, by fingering me for being at the suspect’s apartment at the time of the bust. She’s also wasted my time in the parking lot with her harangue and, if Captain Meyers and Wes were watching as I suspected, made me the laughing stock, the butt of conference room rumors and jokes. But DeeDee’s really trying hard to be a good cop. While she’s got a lot to learn, she’s trying.
“I’ve heard Alaina mention his name,”I say, recalling I’d dropped her off at Stoke Farrel’s apartment. “Calls him‘Stoke’ and hangs out with him on campus. He’s her college classmate. I’d call him more of an acquaintance than a friend.”
Hearing myself making the remarks, red flags go up in my mind. Stoke Farrel’s suddenly theimmediate person of interest to me. Does Stoke know Alaina works at Verbote Dental, where the material for those horrific retainers Megalo Don uses could be obtained? He’s bound to know, if he spends any time at all with Alaina. And I know he does.
“Where’s he from?”I ask, putting DeeDee through her paces. Even though she’s disowned me, swapped me for a new partner, I’ve still got to ensure she gets her training.
“He lives in Cincinnati, off Madison in a drug house near campus,”she says, flipping through her notes, making me proud. She’s actually done the work I asked her to do, but she’s been behaving
so stubborn, and she’s so jealous of me and Alaina, that she neglected to mention that she had done as I’d asked. She and I won’t be best buds, but I give credit where it’s due.
“However,”she continues,“I’ve also learned Stokley lived in Goshen with his mother, and one summer when he was a boy something bad happened. But—” She gazes at me, anticipating my next question. “—I don’t know what it was. It’s buried in his juvie records. I’m getting it unsealed now.”
My radar goes on even higher alert. “Goshen? That’s where Alaina’s from.”
“Does she have any other friends? Anyone else at all?” Wes keeps hammering away, and DeeDee, finally starting to earn her keep, says,“Not that I’ve been able to find so far. But Robin Colby has a friend . . .”—she checks her notebook—“who goes by the handle of Squeal. His name is Timothy Dettwiler.”
“How’d you find this out?”Wes asks.
I catch Captain Meyers frowning, discouraging DeeDee from answering in front of me.
It’s alright, though. I know what they’re hiding. The snitch, who’d called in the anonymous tip about the garbage bag in Alaina’s freezer, must’ve also fingered Robin Colby and Squeal, aka Tim Dettwiler, placing them in the alley. Someone’s sure as hell got it in for Robin Colby, but I’ve got my doubts it’s Tim Dettwiler. Yet the person who knew about that shoulder in the garbage bag is also the one who put it in Alaina’s freezer.
Is it Squeal. Or Alaina’s friend, Stoke? The thought numbs me. It also provokes me to immediate action.
I’ve got to find Alaina before the Don does.
“I’ve asked Detective Laws to interview Squeal,”Captain Meyers says, turning to Wes and introducing him to his new partner, my replacement, DeeDee Laws. “You’ll be working with her to conduct the interview.”
“Like hell I will.” Wes squares off with the captain. “Put me back with Hawks.”
“Work with Rookie Laws, Detective Gillam,”Captain Meyers says,“or I’ll put you on a desk indefinitely, or however long the rest of your stay here at Newport PD lasts.”
“Go ahead, Wes,”I say. “Go with her. I’ll brief you on anything I find.”
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