Don grabbed his notes from his conversation with Adam. “What was the name of that church?” He called St. James and left a message. Then he called the medical examiner’s office, but no one answered. He looked at his watch. “It’s already tomorrow.” In spite of his excitement, he yawned. “All right Belle, I’ve gotta get a few hours of sleep. But not too much because that killer has a taste for murder now and I don’t want him to hurt anyone else.”
Chapter Twenty-One
The killer stood next to his coffee maker, watching it drip. He glanced out the window to check on the sky’s progression as a lighter shade of gray unfolded from the deep black blanket of night. Ah, yes. Any moment now. He poured his coffee and looked outside again. His lips curled. It was there.
He opened the newspaper, and this time he was on the front page. He looked down at the headlines screaming out about the destruction and pain wrought by the “Serial Killer Stalking Denver Women”. His heart swelled with pride. He put his feet up on a stool and started reading, savoring each word. The smoke from his cigarette swirled around his head.
Paper in hand, he moved to his office and examined the corkboard. He cut out the article and pinned it up next to Alicia’s.
The phone rang and he picked it up. “Hi David, how are you? Yesterday’s meeting with the church finance committee was very successful. I just wrote your first commission check and will get it in the mail today.”
“Thanks. How about just giving it to me at the food drive?”
“Oh yes, the food drive. Sorry, I’m just waking up. I have that circled. Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Today is my birthday and I can’t think of a better way to spend it.”
“I didn’t know that! You don’t have to do this. I can tell Mr. Sutherland you had other plans.”
“David, I assure you I cleared my calendar for this. No other plans. This is important to me.”
He ended the call and looked at his calendar. There were no other appointments besides the food drive. So what else was new? He ignored the sinking feeling in the pit of his gut. He was used to it by now.
Just then his phone rang again. The caller ID showed his mother. Did she actually remember?
“Hi, Mother.”
“Hello, Dear. I’m just back from vacation, and I have something to show you today. Want to meet me for breakfast?”
“Yes, I can do that. Tell me when and where and I’ll be there.”
He even smiled when he ended the call. Could what she wanted to show him be a birthday gift?
He stepped into the shower with a sense of happiness. It felt good for a change.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
As he drove to Luke’s house, Don was lost in thought. He pulled up in Luke’s driveway and found Luke standing out in the cold, ready to go. “Hey Cheeto, you call the priest?”
“Yes, he’s waiting for us.”
A few minutes later the detectives arrived in front of St. James Catholic Church. A small building to the side was the rectory, the priest’s residence. Father Tim answered the door after the first knock and showed them in, poured them coffee, and offered muffins. “I’ll help you in any way that I can,” he declared.
Don sat down and got straight to the point. “Father, Adam Kendrick told us about Alicia’s Bible Study group. He gave us a list of the members. Gail’s name was on that list. Our medical examiner just confirmed that the markings on both Alicia’s neck and Gail’s neck were from a rosary and thought both victims were already dead when it was wrapped around their necks.” He paused. “Can you think of anyone that would have a vendetta against Alicia, Gail, or anyone else the Bible group?”
The priest shook his head. “No. Both women were wonderful ladies. I can’t think of anyone who would do this to them. It makes no sense.”
“What kinds of activities does the group do?”
“Over the years they have gathered food supplies for the homeless, toys for underprivileged children, supplies for poverty level newborns and their mothers, and they have assisted with the mentally ill.”
“What about social activities? Do they go out regularly or anything like that?”
“Yes, sometimes they meet for lunch or cocktails.” The priest smiled. “I’ve heard that margaritas have become a favorite of the group recently. Just a couple of weeks ago they went to a Mexican restaurant east of town and Alicia told me about all of the different flavors that they had. She said they were like smoothies for adults.”
In addition to the recorder, Don took notes. “Okay, I have a recent list of the group. I’d like some older lists as well. I’m countin’ on finding a former member out there who knows something.” He tapped his pencil on the paper. “Have they done any community service projects lately?”
“They organized a Thanksgiving dinner and gifts for the mentally ill at the hospital out east.”
“Okay, get us the information for the contacts there too. Thanksgiving wasn’t that long ago. Maybe we can find some sort of a connection.”
Armed with the information, Don and Luke split the list and went out to interview each member of the group. They met up in a coffee shop late in the morning to compare notes.
Don took a sip of coffee. “These are some of the kindest people I’ve ever met. They all live very normal lives. I haven’t found even a shred of a motive so far.”
Luke agreed. “Yeah, I guess one thing that you can say about the holy rollers is they do seem to be nice.”
Don raised an eyebrow at Luke but then thought better of his retort and glanced down at his list instead. “There is still one person I haven’t interviewed yet. Let’s go pay Kate Fitzgerald a visit.”
Forty minutes later, Don sat next to Luke in Kate’s living room. As Kate put together a tray of cheese and crackers she insisted on making, Don took note of the framed diploma from Boise State University and a picture of Bronco Stadium. Kate brought out the tray and moved Don’s recorder and some travel brochures to an end table near Luke, so she could place the tray on the glass coffee table in front of them. The detectives sat on a tan leather couch, and she seated herself on a matching loveseat facing them.
Luke picked up one of the brochures. “Going somewhere?”
“No, not this year,” Kate looked at the brochure and shook her head. “I just finished budgets for my company and I usually go out of town right after I’m done, but for some reason nothing appealed to me this year. So, I decided to organize my house instead. You know, do a little spring cleaning in December.” She frowned. “Speaking of being organized, why the heck haven’t I thrown those in the recycling?” She glared at the brochures as though they had committed a crime.
“Where do you work?”
“The downtown Marriott. I’m the controller there.”
Don cleared his throat. “Kate, we are very sorry for your losses.”
Her lips tightened. “Thank you.”
“Tell us about Alicia and Gail. When did you meet them? How? Give us your history together.”
“We were acquaintances for years at St. James, but one exceptionally beautiful spring morning we all decided that we wanted to show God our gratitude for this beautiful world and the beautiful people in it. So, we organized our Bible study group. Since then we’ve become really good friends.” She leaned back in the loveseat and looked at Don. “That’s it. That’s the big story about how I got to be such good friends with Alicia and Gail.”
“Seems like someone out there has a deadly objection to your club. Can you think of any reason why anyone would have a grievance against you, Alicia, Gail, or St. James?”
Kate shook her head. “No, I really can’t.” She raised her eyebrows. “Unless you have something against margaritas.”
“Father Tim told us about the adult smoothies.”
Kate’s eyes crinkled as she thought
about going out with her friends. “Yes.” Then she frowned. “Come to think of it, we did deal with a less-than-courteous waiter at Jose’s a week or so ago.”
“What happened?”
“It was the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. We just finished putting on a dinner with gifts for the patients at the mental health hospital east of town. We decided to stop in at a Mexican place Gail knew about for cocktails. The waiter overheard us talking about church and Bible study and got irritated.” She paused. “We had designated drivers and a few of the non-designated drivers got a little loud, I guess.” She looked at Don and Luke. “But it wasn’t bad or anything. There weren’t that many people there. You’d think that he would have been glad for the opportunity to make a good tip, wouldn’t you?”
“What kinds of things did he say?”
“Oh, derogatory remarks about Christians and their beliefs and stuff like that.” She shrugged. “Not that big of a deal. People have their own opinions.” She paused. “Then he made a derogatory comment about Jesus Christ and that one didn’t go over well at all. Some shouting started. A couple of us jumped up and managed to get everything calmed down.” She raised a brow. “Then we just continued with our drinks and snacks. As a matter of fact, Vicki Zurn asked him to make some copies of the membership list so that we could organize a calling tree about our Christmas party.”
Don looked up from his notes. “What information was on that list?”
She stared at Don. “Names, addresses, phone numbers... oh my God.” She put her head in her hands.
Don leaned forward. “Which women were giving the waiter the hardest time?”
“I would say it was Alicia, Gail, and Wanda Benaducci. Vicki was a little noisy too.” She folded her arms. “I guess he could have listened to us talking to each other and figured out who was who.”
Don leaned back for a minute. “I hear what you’re saying. But it’s a pretty far stretch from complaining about Christians to murder, Kate. On the other hand, it might be a good idea to make sure everyone in your group takes some extra precautions. Tell them to lock their doors. Plus, they all need to be aware of their surroundings. Can you call them? Get the word out?”
“Absolutely.”
“Also, while we’re here, I’d like to take a look at your locks. Just see your setup, okay?”
“I guess so.” Kate blinked. “But I’m sure that I’m fine.”
Don walked into the kitchen and over to the sliding glass door that led out to a deck overlooking a pool. Kate had a nice corner unit and the deck stretched all the way back to another sliding glass door. “That your bedroom?”
“Yes.”
Don observed the fire escape near the deck and fiddled with the lock on the glass door. He turned around and walked into her bedroom with the others trailing behind.
Luke smiled when he saw more of the Boise State paraphernalia. “BSU, eh? Good school, good football team.”
“Awesome school. Awesome football team!”
Don examined the sliding door in her bedroom. He spun around. “This lock is pretty worthless. So is the lock on your other door. Plus, it’s easy to get from the fire escape into your place.”
“But the doors downstairs to the courtyard are locked, and there is a security guard in the lobby.” Kate put her hands on her hips. “I’m safe here.”
Don’s forehead creased. “If I were you, I wouldn’t want my life depending upon someone who is paid what those guards are paid with the kind of training they get.” He motioned outdoors. “Maintenance is done out there and doors can get left open.” He paused for a second. “You said that you work at the Marriott. Any chance you could stay there until we get this case solved?”
“I suppose.” Kate straightened her shoulders. “But I don’t think that I really need to. I even have a gun-with a permit of course.”
“Gun or no gun I think if you saw the two murder scenes that we’ve seen, you would change your mind.” Don felt his eyes burning as he glared at Kate.
Kate drew in a breath. “Yeah, sure. Okay.”
As they walked into the living room, Don continued talking. “Luke and I are going to run out to Jose’s. You remember your waiter’s name?”
Kate pursed her lips, then held up a finger. “I’ll bet that I still have my receipt. Maybe his name is on that.” She left the room.
Luke watched her disappear and looked at Don. “What kind of a person has a receipt for a few margaritas from a couple of weeks ago?”
“She’s an accountant. It fits.”
Kate hastened back into the room and handed a piece of paper to Don with a flourish. “His name is Treavor.”
“Treavor, the Christian-hater, eh?” Don looked at Luke. “Let’s go pay this guy a visit.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The killer stepped into the elegant restaurant and scanned the room for his mother. When he didn’t see her, he asked for a table for two. Ten minutes later, she strutted through the door. She was wearing boots with heels giving her thin, five foot two inch frame an extra four inches in height. Her short, platinum blonde hair bounced along with her stride. Her granite gray eyes, which the killer always thought matched the color of her heart, searched for him. Her painted face displayed the usual dark red lipstick, but her eyes were shadowed in a soft plum color now. New fashion, he guessed.
The smell of her perfume wafted around the table as she walked up and gave him the required hug. He started to help her with her coat, but she raised her hand.
“Hold on for a minute. Let’s go out to the valet parking.”
They walked out and there it was: a brand Mercedes Maybach S550.
“It’s the new model. Isn’t it gorgeous?”
Bile rose up into the killer’s throat. She had no idea it was his birthday. She just wanted to show off her new car. Of course.
They sat back down in the restaurant, and his eyes fell to the blade of the knife placed near the sparkling white china plate. As his mother’s voice droned in the background, he stared at it. It seemed to be speaking to him.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Jose’s was a small, dark restaurant on the east side of the city. Don ducked the low hanging red lamps that hung down from the ceiling and noticed Luke doing the same. They stood next to each other at what appeared to be a hostess stand for a couple of minutes, then Don motioned to the bar. They walked past some plastic-lined booths to a small bar where a brown-haired burly bartender stood chewing on an unlit cigar. His green vest did little to hide his girth.
He pushed the cigar over to one side of his mouth with his tongue. “What can I get ya’?”
Don paused. “How about a couple of drafts?” As the bartender turned his back, Don and Luke exchanged glances and Luke gave a slight nod.
Don made a show of tasting his beer and smacking his lips. “Ah, that hits the spot.” He looked at the bartender. “Worked here long?”
“’Bout five years.” He responded as he wiped down some glasses. He didn’t stop cleaning or even look up.
Just then, a short, beefy waiter with dyed ink blue hair hustled across the room to the bar service station next to Don. “Hey Max, I need a couple of blackberry margaritas.” He handed Max a chit and drummed his fingers on the bar while he waited.
Don sipped on his beer and glanced sideways at the waiter’s nametag, which displayed “Treavor” in green lettering.
Treavor left and Don cleared out the tab with Max so that he and Luke could go sit in Treavor’s section. Soon Treavor came over and handed out a couple of menus.
“What’s good?” Don asked.
“Smothered burritos are a popular choice,” Treavor muttered.
“Sounds good to me,” Don said. “Put me down for that.” Luke asked for the same and Treavor darted away.
Soon he came back ca
rrying a big tray with huge plates of cheesy burritos. After placing each plate, he stood back. “You good? Need anything else to drink?”
Don waved a drink menu at him. “You’re the Baskin Robbins of margaritas.”
“Yeah. Brings in a lot of ladies. Sometimes they even buy the glasses the drinks are served in to bring home. Go figure.”
Don grinned. “Can’t argue with lots of ladies being around, right?”
Treavor shrugged. “Depends.”
Don nodded. “Yeah, I hear ya’. Sometimes they can really be annoying. That pisses me off. I mean, who do they think they are, ya’ know?”
“Yeah.”
Don waved his hand to include the restaurant. “How do you handle it when that happens in here? That must be tough.”
“Most of the time I just ignore them.”
“Yeah, but I’ll bet once in a while you get a group of ladies, they have some margaritas, then they have some more, then they start gettin’ all bossy or whatever. That would just drive me nuts, you know what I mean?”
“Sure bugs me,” Luke chimed in.
Don continued, “I couldn’t handle that. How do you do it?”
Treavor’s sooty gray eyes darkened and his voice became sharp. “I work for tips, I’m not stupid.” He paused for a split second. “Do you want anything else?”
Don shook his head and Treavor left. Luke dug into his burrito. Moving the food around in his mouth he mumbled, “How do you want to play this?”
Don moved his head from side to side, stretching his neck as he contemplated his answer. “I think we need to follow him after he gets off work. Let’s check out what he does. He definitely didn’t like it when I pressed a little.”
Deadly Gratitude Page 10