“Portland? I knew it. Please tell me this guy was there at the time of the Towson and Valencia murders.”
“He was. Work records put him there for the next three years after college. He stays put in Portland where, between his job and whatever other unusual interests Frank has, he earned a Master’s Degree in biomolecular science from Oregon State.”
Josh stopped, noticed the expression on Skye’s face. “I told you the guy was smart. But add to that, he has an attitude problem, a major one. The pharmaceutical company canned him because he couldn’t get along with his co-workers, or management, mainly his immediate supervisor who claimed Frank was arrogant as hell and refused to listen to anyone else’s ideas. Frank’s yearly reviews—which the team managed to locate online and disseminate—show a guy with no ability whatsoever to get along with anyone.”
“I’m beginning to love this super team of yours.”
Josh nodded. “Leo, Winston, and Reggie are rock solid and so is the info they crack. Give them enough time and they can hack anything, get at any type of info.”
“I believe it. What else did they come up with?”
“Frank’s employment records indicate that at times he would simply go off on his own tangents. Prodigy or not, he couldn’t complete many of his assigned projects, deadlines would come and go, during which time Frank would get more irrational and illogical.”
“That says major loner to me. Fits the profile.”
“Yeah, but there’s more, a lot more. And here’s where it gets interesting. After they let him go in Portland, he relocated to Seattle where he took up Mixed Martial Arts or what’s commonly known as simply, MMA. He started out fighting locally, soundly won his weight division, moved up to regionals and onto nationals. Up and down the West Coast, Frank De Palo is known as a bit of a celebrity in the sport.”
Skye’s mouth fell open. “So we have our local celebrity athlete theory confirmed. That’s why he wears that creepy mask. Well, other than the fright factor so he can scare the bejesus out of his victims. He’s afraid someone will see his face and recognize it.”
“Right again. But get this? In high school De Palo was known on the San Caruso high school wrestling team as ‘Terrier.’ That was Frank’s handle because he wouldn’t quit or back down no matter how big his opponent happened to be on or off the mat. Reggie found a former teammate listed online, started emailing him. The friend remembered one night in their sophomore year when the wrestlers all got drunk and got tattoos on their upper arms, tattoos representing their nicknames.”
Skye gaped right before she started laughing. “Do you realize that means Janie Holliman’s son knew what he was talking about? Who would believe that so far our best witness has been a little three-year-old boy? David was right on the money about the picture of the dog that night.”
“Who knew? I guess we’re learning to accept the clues we get no matter where they come from. And I found out a little bit about Frank’s home life back in California.”
Skye narrowed her eyes. “While I was gone you and your team talked to the neighbors without me?”
“I didn’t. Not yet anyway. But I sent one of the members of the team down to San Caruso yesterday for a road trip and scouting expedition. Leo’s still there. Don’t look at me like that. While you were busy rehabbing your relationship with Travis, which you needed to do for both of you, I had this.”
She huffed out a frustrated breath knowing he was throwing her words back at her. “Travis and I spent most of yesterday on the phone, sorting out a few more things from the past. I got sidetracked. But just because you’re right, doesn’t mean I’m not upset that you did all this without me.”
“How does it feel to be shut out of a plan, Skye?” Josh pointed out.
She made a face. “Okay. I guess I deserved that. I get your point. What else did this Leo find out?”
“So far, Leo’s talked to people around the little town who knew Frank as a kid. People the guy grew up with, classmates, longtime business owners, neighbors who knew the parents, that sort of thing. He found out Frank was raised in a very strict environment by doting parents, especially his mother. Not saying either one is a bad thing or something that turns a person like Frank into a serial killer. Parents are allowed to spoil their kids. But when you combine an overly-protective mother with her over-the-top strict, church environment—”
“How ‘over the top’ are we talking about?”
“Extraordinary. His mother made sure he went to what this group called ‘indoctrination camp’ where each summer the kids in the congregation would spend time learning the guidelines to stay on the straight and narrow. For three months while he was out of school, Frank acted as a counselor. Not a bad plan to keep kids engaged and busy. But some of the town thought this particular group went a lot too far. The extreme side was a little too radical for most of the residents in San Caruso.”
“Okay, so maybe the obsessive-compulsive took a detour with fanatical influences from dear old Mom’s group. Could this be the reason he hates women?” Skye wanted to know. “You have only to look at the crime scenes, the photos, to know he can’t stand females.”
“You’ve got a point,” Josh said.
“Mom’s group sounds a little like the same kind of church Aunt Ginny and Uncle Bob dragged me to every time the doors opened.”
“I don’t think so. This group was led by a guy named Jasper March, who called himself ‘the divine one.’ According to some of the neighbors Leo spoke with, Mrs. De Palo pretty much thought Jasper walked on water.”
“You’re kidding? That sounds almost like a cult.”
“Exactly. And who do you think contributed the most to Jasper’s coffers?”
“Mr. and Mrs. De Palo. But Josh, if Leo found all this out from the people in town in such a short time, are you sure this is all fact? I mean, are you sure the residents don’t have some kind of axe to grind against the De Palos?”
“I thought of that. Maybe a little of both, I imagine. Some of what Leo found out is a little hard to believe.”
“Like what?”
“Like the fact Jasper made up his own lingo to use in his sermons to the congregation.”
“You mean like speaking in tongues?”
Josh nodded. “Using their own made-up dialect, it seems this ‘divine one’ believed in retribution and preached regularly about the end of the world. And that his followers should do everything to get ready for it. They made up some of their own edicts along the way and preached no tolerance for the consumption of alcohol or drugs in any form. That includes any type of over-the-counter medicines.”
“Wait. You said Frank got drunk one night. Doesn’t sound like his indoctrination took for real.”
“Typical teenage rebellion. Probably.”
“I still say parts of that group sound a lot like Ginny and Bob.”
Josh gave her a disbelieving stare, ran a hand through his hair. “I guess in some way I can understand your anger at Travis then. Because what you went through with those people must’ve been—”
“Over-the-top? Extreme? Yeah, it was. And then some. But as you said, I’ll have to learn to deal with it to put all of it where it belongs—in the past—because it’s ancient history. I need to remember that and move on. So, De Palo is raised by a woman who dragged him to this place where ‘the divine one’ routinely taught him that retribution was the norm. That it was just a matter of time before the world ended and he’d better be ready to ante up. I’m beginning to think that kind of setting and experiences contributed to his hating women. Somehow.” Skye shrugged when she noted the look in Josh’s eyes. “You’ve seen what he does to their faces. It isn’t a leap in logic. You add it all up, you have a wealthy nutcase, who thinks he’s entitled for some reason. It might explain a few things.”
“No argument there. But during his stint at Stanford, Frank got bored with his chemistry curriculum and began taking a slew of criminal science courses.”
About that
time, Harry came through the door, catching the last part of the conversation. “Wanted to be a cop, did he? Well, that pretty much fits the profile, too. I got your email, Josh. Thanks for the heads up. Sorry I kept you both waiting. But it seems your prime suspect, Frank De Palo, is indeed a mental case, officially. When he was sixteen he got into some serious trouble with a female classmate.”
“Rape?” Skye frowned. “Our boy started young.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Harry stated. “His victim, a fifteen-year-old cheerleader accused him of rape all right. But with a twist. She said De Palo beat her senseless when all she did was question his taste in movies. Bashed her face in so badly, he put that girl in a coma for several weeks. When she finally woke up, and her parents learned who was responsible they insisted on pressing charges. But on the other end of the spectrum, Frank’s parents thought the girl was simply going after the rich boy in town out of spite. They didn’t believe her.”
“So De Palo did time?” Skye asked, sending Josh an incredulous look. “You didn’t get to that part yet.”
Josh shook his head. “That’s because De Palo didn’t. He bypassed jail time due to Mommy’s and Daddy’s influence in the San Caruso community along with several glowing recommendations from Jasper March, Frank’s Sunday school teachers, and camp sponsors. No fewer than ten upstanding citizens wrote the judge about what a terrific young man Frank was at the time—some bullshit about what a great youth counselor he’d been—what a terrific role model to the younger members of the congregation he was. To make sure their little darling didn’t end up in prison, his parents agreed to a stint inside a cushy, private psych ward.”
“You mean like rehab?” Skye noted.
“That’s exactly right,” Harry replied, tossing a file folder on the conference table. “He stayed there four lousy months and fell off the radar. At some point though his parents, Elena and Frank De Palo Sr., must’ve known their pride and joy was a little off.”
“Because of the rape,” Skye reasoned.
Josh traded looks with the detective. It was Josh who answered. “It goes a little further back than that. I told you Leo nosed around some. Turns out the folks who knew Frank best in his old haunt reported that little Frankie showed a dislike for the neighborhood cats. Any time Frankie was around, they disappeared in droves. It seems the little mental case liked to practice dismemberment from an early age. And get this. He frequently spent time on a farm his grandparents owned. He had access to any number of animals. God only knows what the boy practiced on while he was there.”
“Ewww,” Skye uttered. “That’s a Jeffrey Dahmer trait. A lot of serial killers started out that way on animals.”
“Bingo.”
“Wonder why Frankie-boy didn’t go all dissection on his victims here?” Skye wondered.
Again it was Josh who spoke up. “My theory is the dissection isn’t what gets him off. While it’s gruesome, this guy likes the power, the control of surprising a woman alone as she sleeps, ties her up, rapes her, then strangles her or slits her throat. Maybe he bashes her face in. Maybe he takes out his trusty knife if he really wants to make a statement. That’s what gets him off. Killing and dissecting animals might’ve been what did it for him when he was eight, but not as an adult male with certain sexual urges,” Josh finished. “The way he treats the women makes me wonder if the guy ever had a normal relationship with one. I’d bet he didn’t.”
“You’re getting better at this, Josh,” Skye remarked. “A lot better.”
“Courtesy of very vivid dreams,” Josh said while taking the time to study Harry’s face. “If I were you, I’d check the same type of unsolved murders in and around the university during his college years. Skye’s already found two in Portland that fit the same pattern and MO.”
“You might’ve mentioned that, Skye,” Harry grumbled. “I would’ve listened this time around.”
“Good to know for the future, Harry. I kept my mouth shut that day we met with the FBI team because I could tell no one in that room wanted to hear about my half-baked theory. They didn’t think it was relevant that Bianca and Lisa lived only four streets apart, in identical townhouses with the same floor plans. I found the layouts on the Internet. Turns out, I think you should contact the detectives who investigated their original cases and let them know.”
“I’d say Frankie’s been perfecting his method for a very long time. He went to grad school in Oregon. So, I’d go all the way back to the area there and then around Stanford where he did his undergraduate work. The man considers himself a brain and superior to the rest of us, even though what I saw him do to Tracy and Julie was more like the actions of a wild animal.”
“Not just an animal, he’s a coward,” Skye said. “He sneaks in to confront a woman at her most vulnerable. Building up all this rage before the attack, then wham, he’s armed with a freaking knife,” Skye added. “What would make a man that angry? Surely it isn’t because he hates his mother.”
“Who knows? Who cares?” Harry pointed out, running a hand through his thinning hair. “Whatever it is, we have to catch this son of a bitch before he moves on. As Josh discovered he has the funds to fall off the map anywhere in the world.”
“Any idea where we should start looking?” Skye wanted to know.
“He hasn’t been seen at his luxury high-rise in over two weeks, which isn’t a good sign he’s still around. But Seattle PD put out an APB. It’ll be on the early news and we’ve got his face plastered all over the Internet. That’s including Facebook and Twitter,” Harry added.
“Then let’s hope we get lucky.”
Skye waited until they got outside the police station. When they were walking to the car parked in the lot, she stopped and said, “Okay, what didn’t you tell Harry back there? What are you holding back? You recited all the right things, even shared what you’d discovered about De Palo’s background, told him about Leo in San Caruso. But what did you not tell Harry back there? And why?”
Josh grinned. “I love it when the mind meld works.” He reached for her hand, kissed the palm. “When De Palo got fired from his job and got into MMA, he started training with Mick Hyatt.”
“The fitness king? Well. If it turns out Frank De Palo is definitely our guy and Mick is linked to him, the fitness guru might need to find a new turf. But Harry must already know about Hyatt. That isn’t what you held back in there, Josh.”
“No, it isn’t, because Hyatt’s been missing now for several days. His wife reported that he left for work as usual and hasn’t been seen since.”
“You think Frank did something to him?”
“It’s entirely possible. Either that or Mick ran off with his longtime mistress. But there’s no evidence of that. The thing is, Leo emailed me this morning right before the meeting. He discovered the De Palos, Elena and Frank Sr., haven’t been seen or heard from in eight years. Eight years, Skye. They disappeared off the San Caruso scene and no one seems to know where they went.”
“Maybe they went back to Italy, Josh. Did you think of that?”
“For that long? I don’t think so. Think about the message we’ve been getting, over and over again.”
Skye stopped walking and turned to gape at him. “You think those are the bones in question? You think that has something to do with Elena and Frank Sr.?”
“Yeah. Are you up for a road trip?”
Skye cracked a smile. “If that road trip means you want to go to San Caruso and poke around Frank’s old stomping ground to find these bones, then I’m in. When do we leave?”
Chapter 23 Book 2
Trying to book a flight out to little San Caruso posed a problem. So Josh leased a corporate jet to fly them down to the tiny town squeezed up against the Pacific Ocean. With less than fifteen thousand residents, the nearest airport, turned out to be nothing more than a landing strip. Most of the clientele seemed to be business travelers who either owned small aircraft or their own jets, or leased helicopters to fly back and
forth to seven-figure jobs.
Leo Martin was waiting for them outside the one and only hangar.
The programmer wasn’t at all what Skye expected. For one thing, Leo couldn’t have been more than twenty. Tall and gangly, he had dark, chestnut-brown hair that draped past his shoulders in dreadlocks. Two gold earrings hung from each lobe. Leo looked more like a drummer than a hacker. According to Josh, Leo had been recruited by Todd Graham right off the floor of the Underground Hackers Convention. At the time the sixteen-year-old had turned Todd down cold using the excuse that he’d never been much of a joiner. So Todd had managed to talk the kid into a sometime-contractor gig at Ander All Games.
“I spent yesterday beating the bushes hunting down former neighbors. I didn’t have a chance yet to drive out to the De Palo estate. To be honest, I didn’t want to go out there alone,” Leo admitted.
“I don’t understand,” Skye said. “Josh said you talked to his neighbors.”
Leo traded glances with Josh. “It’s a little complicated. The De Palos own about a dozen houses all over the county. Frank still takes care of most of them. Some of them he now rents out. But it wasn’t always that way. When Frank was much younger, the De Palos kept four homes for their personal use. I’ve checked out three of those because Josh had me focus on the ones in San Caruso near all the schools Frank attended—primary, middle school, and high school. But the De Palos’ main place of residence is located about twenty miles out of town in an unincorporated part of Monterey County where Frank spent his summers. And because the school district didn’t offer bus service at the time that far away, the family stayed in town during the school year so Frank could walk to school. I haven’t been out to this other place yet. Rumor has it the place is spooky. People tell me it’s been abandoned for years. I’m assuming that’s where we’re headed now.”
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