MAD AS BELL

by Jeremy Waldron

  “You know, you kind of look like the women being kidnapped,” the driver said, staring.

  Eva’s chest squeezed as she gave him a long, hard look. She was only a few blocks from her apartment, but she needed to get out of this car now.

  “This is fine,” she said, asking to be dropped here.

  “You want to get out here?” The driver hesitated.

  “Yes.”

  Eva unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the car door before the wheels came to a complete stop. She hit the ground running and didn’t look back. Her heart was pounding and her body started to sweat. Weaving up the block, she rounded the corner on the next street when she spotted a familiar face. What was he doing here? Why did it look like he was looking up at her apartment window?

  Eva backpedaled and dipped around the corner and out of sight before he saw. Her heart beat even faster. If only she knew who’d kidnapped her, then she would know who was dangerous and who wasn’t. This man was either here to help or here to destroy, and she couldn’t decide which of the two it was.

  Chapter Seventy-Seven

  Detective King put his unmarked police cruiser in park and killed the engine. He turned to face Detective Gray. She was on the phone while flipping through Sage’s case files, doing her best to track down Sage’s family to find out if she had a younger sister.

  “Okay, great,” Gray said into her phone. “Call me as soon you can confirm it.”

  The moment Gray was off the phone, King asked, “How did you know Sage looked like Jane Doe?”

  Without taking her eyes off her notes, Gray said, “She’s his type.”

  King glanced to the entrance of the medical examiner’s office. Indeed, she was the Woman Collector’s type. They all were. But if these cases were related, that meant their perp had been working under the radar for nearly a decade. Maybe Archie Smith was right. Maybe there was a serial rapist-killer the department didn’t know about. If so, how many women did he currently have, and how many had he killed? King was agitated by the thought.

  As if sensing King’s unease, Gray said, “The chances of finding Sage alive—”

  “I know.”

  “The case might be officially open, but from what I understand, her family held a private funeral years ago.” King turned his head and met Gray’s eye. “They needed closure,” Gray said.

  King opened his door and said, “And so do I.”

  They entered the medical examiner’s office, signed in at the front desk, and was escorted to the back where they entered the morgue. The smell of formaldehyde and death always got to King, but today he ignored the queasiness in his stomach and waved to Griffin through the glass. He assumed she was working on Megan’s corpse.

  When Griffin indicated she’d be right out, King moved to her desk and began browsing the files on top. She’d been working to locate Jane Doe, but it didn’t take King long to realize none of the unnamed victims matched Jane Doe’s profile.

  “Go ahead, make yourself at home,” Griffin said sarcastically as she entered her office, removing her latex gloves.

  King straightened and retrieved the picture of Sage from inside his sport coat pocket. “This is what she looks like,” he said, holding out the picture for Griffin to see.

  “Who’s that?” Griffin took a closer look.

  Gray explained who Sage was and how they matched her to what King remembered of Jane Doe.

  “The plot thickens,” Griffin said, eyeing King. “I’m sorry. I pulled an all-nighter and need to see the light of day to cure my sick humor. Anyway, I began looking for your girl, and you’re right, she never arrived.”

  King held up the file he still had pinched between his fingers. “I know.”

  Gray’s cellphone buzzed. She excused herself and took the call on the opposite side of the room. Griffin moved behind her desk.

  “This concerns me greatly,” Griffin said. “It’s imperative we locate her. I’ve put a call into the sergeant from CSI but am still waiting to hear back. I’m hoping he can give me details to the EMS team who bagged our body and can figure out where they took her.”

  King nodded and jutted his chin to the lab. “Is that Megan on the table?”

  Griffin nodded and said, “No surprise to either one of us, but I’m ruling her death a homicide. Death by strangulation—”

  “And, let me guess, she was sexually assaulted?”

  Griffin nodded again. “Unfortunately, I haven’t lifted a single strand of evidence off her. My guess is whoever killed her shaves his entire body. Either way, he was extremely meticulous when handling her. It’s clear whoever is behind her murder knows what he’s doing.”

  Gray rushed over, her eyes wide. “You’ll never guess who just walked into the station.”

  King knitted his brows and shared a quick glance with Griffin.

  “Jessica Hinojos. Our Amber Alert.”

  Chapter Seventy-Eight

  Lewis Stark was getting into his expensive sports car when we arrived. His four-car garage caught my attention as I curbed my Subaru in front of his house.

  “What do you think is parked inside?” I asked Erin.

  Erin replied, “Four-to-one: a red pickup truck.”

  Our shared smile quickly turned to parted lips of surprise as we both noticed the young college-aged girl exit Stark’s house. Her hips flared as she bounced her breasts toward Stark.

  “This can’t be happening. I’ve got to capture this,” Erin said, snapping photos with her phone to be used as evidence if we ever needed it.

  The woman looked like Eva. I wouldn’t have believed what happened next if I didn’t see it with my own eyes. Stark sauntered over to her, took her by the waist, and planted his lips on hers. They tongue kissed and he pressed his pelvis deeper into hers.

  “Are you getting all this?” I asked Erin.

  Erin said, “Every single ugly second of it.”

  We were each disgusted by the clear difference in age, making our first impression of the man neither of us knew quite negative. As Stark pulled away, he slapped her ass and got her to smile.

  Stark was a sleaze ball who made my skin crawl. Had he cared about Eva at all? Could he have been the one who abducted Eva? My mind was busy making wild assumptions as I reminded myself to slow down.

  We watched the woman get behind the wheel of the sports car, back out of Stark’s drive, and speed away.

  As soon as she was gone, I opened my door and Stark paused when he saw me wave at him. I called out, “Mr. Lewis Stark?”

  Stark gave me a funny look. “Who’s asking?”

  I shut my car door and rounded the hood, closing the gap between us so I wouldn’t have to yell. “My name is Samantha Bell and this is my colleague Erin Tate. We’re friends of Eva’s.”

  Starks expression eased. “Is she okay?”

  He was quick to pick up on why we were here. Did he know she had been kidnapped? Was he expecting us? It seemed impossible, but I could assume nothing. A part of me kept thinking Eva would arrive any minute, or at least call him like she’d told Erin she was going to.

  “When was the last time you talked to her?” I asked, hoping he would say today. When he didn’t, I wondered if Eva had anticipated our move.

  “You thought she’d be here?”

  Erin said, “We did.”

  Stark’s eyes glossed over as he seemed to be staring at nothing in particular. I wondered what it was he was thinking, if I was looking at a dangerous man or not.

  “No,” Stark snapped out of his head, “I haven’t spoken to Eva since last Thursday evening.”

  “What did you two discuss?”

  Stark looked to his neighbors and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I’ve been worried about her.”

  My brow furrowed. “Why is that?”

  Stark rolled his shoulders back and visibly tensed. “It’s complicated and deeply personal.”

  Was he purposely avoiding having to go into detail, or just naturally obtuse? I couldn’t decide. “
You two are dating?”

  “Were dating,” Stark corrected me.

  Erin asked, “What happened?”

  “I loved every minute I was with Eva. She’s a fun-loving girl and she brought great joy into my life. We were wonderful together for a time, but there was another man in her life.”

  “And did you find this out before or after you two slept together?”

  Stark cocked his head and glared at me. “Did something happen to her?” When we didn’t respond, Stark lifted his head and said, “I knew that asshole Carr would hurt her.”

  “Carr?” Erin played coy.

  “Oliver Carr.” Stark’s tone hardened. “The other man. And, just to be clear, I never slept with Eva. Though I would have liked to. It was Carr she was sleeping with.”

  Erin and I shared a look. This was not the story Eva had shared. We kept our mouths shut to see how this would play out.

  “I told her to stay away from him, that he was no good, but she didn’t listen.” Stark told us stories of abuse at the hand of Carr, saying, “Each time he hurt Eva, she’d show up at my door, ask to stay the night, cry in my arms and be gone the next morning like it never happened. No matter what he did or said, she always went back to him.”

  “That must have hurt you.”

  Stark shook his head no. “I’d do anything for her. What you need to understand about Eva is that she doesn’t have anyone else in her life to love her. I showed her what love could be and she still chose him. While I disagreed with her decision, I accepted my roll to comfort and protect her.”

  “And did you protect her?”

  “You mean, did I ever take the fight to Carr?”

  I nodded.

  “No. But he brought it to me.” Stark flicked his gaze between us as he continued, “As soon as Carr learned about me, he came knocking on my door to lay claim to Eva. He told me to stay away from her, or else. You catch my drift? That’s why I moved on. I don’t need some psychopath up in my face about some girl we both found on a dating website. If you’re here because you think Eva’s in danger, I’d bet my house it’s Carr who’s responsible.”

  Chapter Seventy-Nine

  Nicholas Bennett’s blood was boiling as he peeked through the curtains. He’d somehow managed to get Heidi Mitchell and her cameramen out of his house and off his property, but Bennett could still see them parked and reporting from the street near the end of his drive.

  How much did she know about him and where was she getting her information? Something told Bennett his time was up.

  “I’m sorry,” Naomi’s meek voice said from behind.

  Bennett closed his eyes, his cheeks searing with anger. He needed to correct this, change the narrative and slow the pace before the tsunami hit. But how could he after what he knew? No matter what he did now, things would only get worse.

  His heart beat like a ticking time bomb inside his chest about to explode.

  It wasn’t only the accusations Heidi threw at him that had Bennett nervous, but now his house had been exposed. The world would know where he lived. That was unsettling. His life of solitude and privacy was ruined forever.

  “I didn’t know there would be cameras,” Naomi continued.

  Bennett opened his eyes and stared out over his lawn. He needed to get Naomi out of his house, but how? If she stayed, it didn’t look good for him. If she left, who knew what Heidi would do to twist Naomi’s words to make him look even worse? Bennett knew it was impossible for him to win.

  “I told you to stay put,” he said, releasing the curtains and letting them fall back into place.

  Bennett moved to the living room and Naomi followed. He turned on the news, flipped the channel until he found Heidi. Together they listened, and Bennett’s worries only ballooned.

  He turned to Naomi and asked, “Who told you to come here?”

  Naomi jerked her head back. “No one.”

  He didn’t believe her. “Then how did she,” he pointed out the window toward where he knew Heidi was, “know you’d be here?”

  Naomi took a step back. “I don’t know.”

  “You seemed to know everything before. What happened?” Bennett craned his neck and stormed over to Naomi. “Did you suddenly lose your mind?”

  Naomi started to cry. He was scaring her. But Bennett knew what it looked like, and it wasn’t good for him.

  “Dare I ask what the hell was on that phone?” He held up his hand before she could respond. “Forget it. I already have a good idea by the look on both of your faces.”

  Naomi followed Bennett to the couch. Resting his elbows on his knees, Bennett hung his head and listened to the echoes of Heidi’s allegations bounce between his ears.

  “The phone wasn’t mine,” Naomi said, getting Bennett to snap his neck toward her. “I know I said it was, but that was to protect you.”

  Naomi lifted her hand and was about to place it on Bennett’s shoulder when he gave her a look that made her stop. “Lying only makes things worse,” he said.

  “Coach, it’s Tommy’s.”

  Bennett straightened and stared. “Why say it was yours then?”

  “Because I’m on it.”

  As difficult as it was for Naomi to explain to her teacher and coach about the sexting photo of her spreading through the school like a virus, she did. Bennett listened and felt lightheaded. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It didn’t matter how he acquired it, even if it was a confiscated student phone, Heidi was accusing him of being in possession of child pornography.

  Bennett swept his gaze to the basement door.

  Did Heidi know what was really on the phone, or was she only guessing? And who gave it to her? Was it even the same phone as Tommy’s, or did she just pretend it was to get a reaction for the cameras?

  Bennett turned to Naomi and asked, “Who was Jenny sleeping with?”

  Naomi tucked her chin.

  “Was it a teacher?”

  Naomi’s eyes danced inside his. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  Shoving his fingers through his hair, Bennett stood and moved to the kitchen, picking up the phone. “I’m calling your mother.”

  Naomi sprang to her feet and hurried to his side. “You can’t. She doesn’t know where I am, and she hates Jenny. If she knew I came here—”

  Suddenly, the phone started ringing inside Bennett’s hand. They exchanged a look of surprise. Bennett answered after the next ring. Allison said, “We need to get you out of there and somewhere safe where you can hide.” Bennett didn’t know what to say. Allison continued, “I know you didn’t do this, and I think I know how we can prove it.”

  Chapter Eighty

  Gray followed King to his car, leaving the ME’s office in a hurry. Griffin promised to call as soon as she learned anything new, and King drove with sirens blaring all the way to the station. They ran inside and found Jessica Hinojos sitting in the interrogation box alone.

  “Who brought her in?” Gray asked a detective from her division when reviewing Jessica’s file.

  “No one,” the detective said. “Came in by her lonesome self.”

  King stared at the young woman hunched over the chrome table, thinking what a sad sight it was. Who was this girl and what was her story?

  Gray lifted her head. “Is she talking?”

  “Waiting for you.”

  Gray glanced to King before entering the box. King position himself behind the glass, hoping Gray would be able to get Jessica to tell them enough to locate Jenny Booth. Gray settled in with small talk, befriending the girl, asking if there was anything she needed. “Are you hungry?”

  Jessica shook her head no.

  “Thirsty?”

  Again, Jessica didn’t react to Gray’s purposeful use of the word. That was a good sign, but it had King wondering if this case was related to Eva Martin’s, or even Megan Hines’s. Jessica did have the look of the other victims—jet-black hair, tall and beautiful—but was she intelligent and popular, too? King didn’t know, but her appea
rance said it all. She looked broken, a face full of shame and regret. And there was something about her eyes that worried him. Why didn’t she seem scared?

  “We’ve been looking for you,” Gray said to Jessica. “Your mother is worried sick.”

  Jessica folded her arms and looked to the mirror.

  “Want to tell me what happened?”

  King was thinking about Archie and the serial rapist Samantha said he was after when Lieutenant Baker entered the room. King knew he wasn’t supposed to be here. He acted like he was despite LT’s silence penetrating his thoughts, distracting him from Gray’s interview.

  “Nothing happened,” Jessica said, getting King’s attention. “I made it all up.”

  “Christ,” LT said after they listened to Jessica’s cry for help. It was a complete hoax.

  King said, “Good thing the department devoted more resources to this flake who’s only thirsty for attention than the chief did to our missing Jane Doe.”

  LT stepped closer and whispered into King’s shoulder, “I heard what you said last night and I’m as concerned about this missing evidence report as you are.” He pulled up his cuff and checked the time on his silver wristwatch. “But I suggest you get your story straight because I’m meeting the DA and deputy chief in an hour.”

  King looked his lieutenant in the eye. “What about?”

  “Why the scene was released before the job was complete.”

  “You know why,” King pleaded, hoping his lieutenant would go to bat for him.

  LT held King’s gaze for a beat before exiting the room without saying another word. King made a fist and cracked his neck. Could it be the upper brass finally saw the evidence was too overwhelming to deny? Or was something else going on that King couldn’t see? It didn’t matter. Alvarez was right. DPD wanted him to eat his gun.

  The door swung open behind him and Alvarez popped his head inside. “Good. I thought you’d be in here.” He paused to catch his breath. “You’re not going to believe this, but there is a woman here who believes her husband might have been involved in the murder of Megan Hines.”