by Lynn Shannon
Weston’s stomach clenched as the image of Marianne Jenkins rose up in his mind. He didn’t want to imagine the fear and panic the woman had felt, but it was impossible to avoid. Worse yet was knowing the killer would strike again. And that Avery was in his sights.
Grady blew out a breath. “I reached out to Avery’s ex-fiancé, Jeffrey Strikes, to do a follow-up interview. The alibi he provided for the night of Debra’s murder is rock-solid.”
“Yes, he was at a conference,” Weston said.
“Correct, but I wanted to dig deeper to see if he could think of any possible suspects or leads. Jeffrey claims the reason he and Avery broke up was because she cheated on him. Avery had an impermissible relationship with a subordinate officer. Jeffrey says there was an Internal Affairs investigation.”
Weston frowned. “That doesn’t sound like Avery. At all.” His gaze shot to Luke. “Did you know anything about this?”
He shook his head. “No. And I agree with you. That doesn’t sound like Avery.”
Grady leaned forward. “I could request the Internal Affairs record, Weston, but that’ll take time. This may have nothing to do with the murders, but considering the circumstances, I think you need to question her again.”
Weston’s jaw tightened. “I intend to.”
Nine
Morning sunshine filtered through Nana’s lace curtains and splayed patterns on the kitchen tile. Avery stifled a yawn and poured herself another cup of coffee. Her eyelids felt gritty from a lack of sleep. The table was littered with the remnants from their breakfast. A plate had been set aside for Weston. Avery had heard him come in last night from his meeting with Luke and Grady around two in the morning, but they hadn’t talked yet.
Packing a bag and spending the night at Nana’s house had been the right thing to do. Avery was especially glad to have Weston staying in the guest bedroom and a trooper stationed outside the house. But she worried about the killer’s next move. Did the Chessmaster have a new victim already selected? What had happened to make him target Avery? It had to be something connected to her father, but what?
The back door opened and Savannah walked in. She’d taken the dog for a walk and was dressed for the cold weather in boots and a heavy jacket. A coffee mug was in her hand. Cooper raced in behind her. The dog’s nose twitched and he bounced on his front feet. Avery laughed, snagging a small piece of bacon and tossing it to him. “Nana’s spoiled you.”
“He’s the only great grandbaby she has at the moment. Spoiling is in order.” Savannah shed her jacket, placed it on the back of a chair, and added coffee to her mug. “Nana ready yet?”
“Not yet.” Their grandmother was going with Savannah to work today. Nana volunteered at the crisis center on a regular basis. “Weston has arranged for a trooper to follow you to and from work. Someone else will be stationed outside the crisis center. Still, I wish you would reconsider and stay home from work today.”
The threats had, so far, been focused on Avery. But if her father was the catalyst for the killer’s actions, the entire family was at risk. Avery wanted to ship them off to Siberia until this whole thing was over, but Savannah and Nana refused to go.
Savannah took a sip of coffee. “I can’t leave the crisis center shorthanded. Especially not at this time of the year, when so many don’t have heat. Volunteers are coming in to deliver blankets to vulnerable households. We have the elderly citizens’ lunch meals. Plus the food drive in a few days. The items on my to-do list aren’t something I can put off. People rely on the outreach.”
“Why do you have to be such a do-gooder?” Avery grumbled. “Why can’t you hide out like a normal person?”
Her sister laughed. “Blame Dad. It’s all his fault.”
“I dare say, I also had a thing or two to do with it, young lady.” Nana bustled into the kitchen on soft-soled shoes. She was dressed in a beautiful lilac sweater that made her blue eyes appear purple. “The women in my family are made of steel and faith.”
Avery wrapped an arm around her grandmother. “True, but it would be nice if you were a little less gutsy sometimes.”
Nana patted her cheek. “Pot meet kettle.”
They all laughed. Nana and Savannah were shrugging on their jackets when Weston stepped into the kitchen. His hair was still damp from the shower and a button-down shirt molded over his broad shoulders. The scent of his aftershave drifted across the room. Avery’s heart skipped a beat. It was ridiculous. He wasn’t the first handsome man she’d ever worked with. Or been friends with. But the more time she spent with Weston, the more she liked him. It was a notion she didn’t want to ponder too much.
“There you are, Weston. Did you sleep well?” Nana asked. “I hope the mattress was comfortable.”
“Yes, ma’am. Very comfortable. Before you go—” He reached into his pocket and took out two business cards, handing one to Savannah and then Nana. “Written on the back is my cell, along with my colleague's, Grady West. If you need anything, call one of us. The troopers have been ordered to keep watch over you, but it doesn’t hurt to have another means of communication.”
“Absolutely.” Savannah tucked the card in her purse. “I’ll add your numbers to my speed-dial as well as Nana’s.”
The women left. Avery pulled down a mug and poured Weston some coffee. She jutted her chin at the plate on the stove. A mountain of scrambled eggs was buffeted by bacon and slices of toast. “We saved you some breakfast.”
“Thanks.” Weston patted Cooper on the head before bringing the plate to the table. “Join me, Avery. We need to talk.”
The chair scraped against the tile as she sat down. “Did investigators find something during the search of Marianne’s house?”
“That’s not what I want to discuss. At least, not yet.” He poked at the eggs with his fork before setting it down and pushing the plate away. “We need to talk about Jeffrey.”
She reared back. “My ex? Why?”
“Grady contacted him for a follow-up interview. Jeffrey said you cheated on him with a subordinate officer and there was an Internal Affairs investigation conducted. I’m sorry, Avery, but I need to ask you some questions.”
Personal questions. Invasive ones. Heat rose in her cheeks. Avery gave herself exactly three seconds to have a pity party. Then she took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. Two women were dead. Whatever she was feeling didn’t compare with that.
“Jeffrey told you half the truth.” She took a deep breath. “Let me start at the beginning. Jeffrey was a prosecutor with the District Attorney’s office. I was a homicide detective. Dating isn’t easy when you work in law enforcement. Cases take over and it’s hard to maintain a personal life.”
Weston nodded, following along, but said nothing.
“Jeffrey was charming and very smart,” she continued. “He was fierce in the courtroom. It impressed me because it seemed we shared a passion for justice. We didn’t date long before getting engaged, but afterward, things started to crumble. I wanted to move home. Living in a bigger city was great for jump-starting my career and to gain experience, but it was never my intention to stay there permanently. I wanted to be closer to Nana and Savannah. Jeffrey, however, was determined to stay in Houston. He had ambition and wanted to pursue politics. There was a lot of fighting, but I thought we loved each other and would work it out. Six months after we got engaged, I discovered Jeffrey was cheating on me with his junior attorney.”
Her voice trembled and she fought to steady it. “I hadn’t realized how calculating Jeffrey was until it was too late. He didn’t care about truth and justice. He cared about appearances and had learned to say all the right things. Even his relationship with me was about strategy, not love. He wanted the right kind of woman to climb the ranks with.”
The heat in her cheeks intensified as she recalled the angry words he’d flung her direction. In one fell swoop, Jeffrey’s facade fell away, and it was humiliating to remember how she’d been bamboozled.
She traced t
he grain of wood in the table, unable to meet Weston’s gaze. “I was devastated. Of course, the relationship was over, and I told him so. The real issue I grappled with was what to do with the information I’d learned. Jeffrey’s junior attorney was a subordinate. Having a relationship with her was against department policy. I advised him to break things off and, if he did so, I would keep my mouth shut.”
“Let me guess. That’s not what happened.”
“No. Jeffrey went to my superiors and claimed I was having an affair with one of my subordinates. His accusation nearly ruined my career.”
The pain vibrating in Avery’s voice was almost too much to bear. Her hair was pulled back in its customary bun, and she wore her police uniform, but the professional mask she’d perfected for work was gone. Sitting in the chair across from him wasn’t a cop. It was a woman. A friend. And she was hurting.
Weston’s fingers twitched. He longed to reach across the table and take her hand. To give Avery some small measure of comfort. He resisted. Although they were in her grandmother’s kitchen, this was an interview. He had to maintain a level of professional distance.
Even if it hurt him to do so.
Weston pulled a small notebook out of his shirt pocket, along with a pen. “What happened after Jeffrey accused you of having an affair with your subordinate?”
“An Internal Affairs investigation was started, per department policy. The accusation was bogus, of course, but that didn’t stop the rumors.” Her hand tightened on the coffee mug. “The man Jeffrey named as my love interest, Scott Carpenter, was happily married with two children. I was labeled a home-wrecker. Colleagues were whispering behind my back.”
“And because there was an active investigation, you couldn’t defend yourself.”
“Correct. Jeffrey was calculated in naming Scott. The officer had worked in my unit, but he’d left to pursue law school. Tracking him down for an interview took time. Which only dragged out the process and added fuel to the gossip. I was eventually cleared of any wrongdoing, but the damage had been done.”
Weston didn’t need her to explain why. Police departments, even larger ones like in Houston, operated in many ways like a small town. Reputations were everything. Adding fuel to the fire was the fact that Avery was a woman. Weston had been in law enforcement long enough to know that sometimes his female counterparts were treated as less than. He didn’t subscribe to the philosophy. His own superior and the leader of Company A, Lieutenant Vikki Rodriguez, was a woman.
“When the IA investigation was opened, did you share the information you’d learned about Jeffrey and his junior attorney?” Weston asked.
“I did, but Jeffery was prepared for that. Both he and the junior attorney lied. I don’t think the investigators found any proof to support my claim. Which was the entire point, of course. Jeffrey lied about me, because it would discredit my own assertion about his affair. He did it to protect his career and neutralize any threat.”
He tapped the pen against the paper. “Why didn’t you tell me all of this?”
“Because Jeffrey had an alibi for Debra’s murder. I didn’t think it was important.”
Weston nodded. “Still, we’re going to dig more into your ex. Jeffrey is a District Attorney, so he knows the law and he’s familiar with police investigations. He also holds grudges and he’s got money. We could be looking at some kind of murder-for-hire situation.”
“Weston, Jeffrey told Grady about the IA investigation out of spite. He wants to cloud my reputation and make you doubt my skills as a police officer. He’s also a liar and a cheat. But I have a hard time believing Jeffrey would hire someone to commit these murders. He has very little to gain and an awful lot to lose.”
“Understood. Jeffrey isn’t my top suspect—it’s Victor—but I also can’t overlook anything.” He paused. “I’ll also have to check into Scott Carpenter’s whereabouts. Just to eliminate him from the suspect list.”
She licked her lips. “Can you do it personally? And quietly? I don’t want to cause him any more trouble than Jeffrey already has.”
“Absolutely. In the meantime, I’ve requested our behavior specialist take a look at the case.”
Avery’s forehead creased. “A profiler?”
“Yep. Her name is Emilia Sanchez. She’s FBI trained and an outstanding investigator. Hopefully, she can give some insight into the type of perpetrator we’re looking for. It’ll take her a couple of days to put together a profile though.”
Weston ran through the rest of what he’d learned last night. While he talked, Avery picked up his breakfast plate and popped it in the microwave. The scent of bacon made his stomach rumble. When she set the plate back down in front of him, Cooper rose from his bed in the corner and nudged Weston’s arm.
“No, Coop.” Avery shook a finger at the dog. “You’ve had enough bacon.”
Weston chuckled as Cooper turned his big brown eyes on him. “Don’t get me in trouble, pup.” He patted the dog’s head, then said a quick grace before picking up his fork. “Avery, have you heard from Mike about your father’s notebook?”
“He and I went over it last night. Dad would use one notebook until it was finished, so he often mixed cases together. Several were mentioned. One was a bar fight, another a hit-n-run, and a domestic battery. None of them seemed familiar to me. Mike’s going to pull the files so we can look at them.” She shrugged. “I’m not convinced the cases in the notebook mean anything. It’s the connection to my dad that’s important.”
Weston took a bite of scrambled eggs. Even reheated, they were wonderful. “I’m inclined to agree, although we can’t discount anything at the moment. Did you ask Savannah about the yard sale?”
“Yes. It was a church bazaar and was advertised in Union County and the surrounding areas. Tons of people came.”
“So a lot of strangers.”
Avery nodded. “Savannah doesn’t remember anyone with a particular interest in Dad’s jackets, but she wasn’t looking for anything suspicious at the time. Savannah did recall selling different coats to several people, not just one, although she can’t be sure to who. The event was months ago.”
Another dead end. This case was full of them. Still, Weston would keep tracing any lead, no matter how small. There was no way to know which one would guide them to the killer.
Avery wrapped her hands around her coffee mug. “Why did the killer choose Marianne Jenkins as the second victim? Do you think she saw something on the night of the murder?”
“Maybe.” Weston stabbed at a slice of bacon on his plate. “It also occurred to me the killer wanted Marianne to find Debra’s body.”
Avery bit her lip. “Maybe that’s part of his pattern. Leaving the body for the next victim to find.” She inhaled sharply, her gaze shooting to Cooper. “Weston, we assumed the killer had left Marianne for me to find. But what if we’re wrong. If he’s been stalking my family, then he knows Savannah often takes Cooper in the afternoon and then brings him back in the evening.”
He reached across the table and placed a hand on her arm. “I know, Avery. I thought of that last night and ordered a trooper be assigned specifically to your sister. We won’t let the killer get close to her. And, keep in mind, I may be wrong. It’s hard to say exactly what the killer’s pattern is or how he’s choosing his victims.”
She nodded. “You’re right. We’ve got a lot of questions and not many answers. Like why did the killer chose Debra and Marianne in the first place?”
“Exactly.” Weston released her hand and picked up a slice of toast. “There aren’t many similarities between the two women. They both worked at Harrison University and were single, but that’s it. Marianne was in her 40s, white, divorced, and a professor. Debra was in her 20s, Hispanic, unmarried, and was a janitor. They don’t look alike. Debra didn’t clean the Fairman Building where Marianne had her office. I have investigators talking to their families and friends, but nothing else has come up.”
Avery frowned. “Mike and I loo
ked in the sheriff’s department database last night. Neither woman has a connection to my dad. While I knew Marianne Jenkins, it was only in passing. And I didn’t know Debra at all.”
“But somehow both of them caught the killer’s attention. Why?”
“Well, the killer left my dad’s notebook on the door for a reason. Victor Haas is our top suspect, which jives with the evidence. Debra knew the killer well enough to let him in. The missing link may be between Victor and my dad. Maybe I’ll see something in Debra’s house that will be familiar or jog my memory. Let’s go there this morning and I can look around. We should call Mike and have him join us.”
“It’s worth a try. Inviting Mike along is a good idea. Since he partnered with your dad for several years, something might jump out at him.”
He polished off his breakfast and chased it with the last of his coffee while Avery loaded the dishwasher. But Weston kept turning over their discussion about Jeffrey. Their conversation outside the Grimes Hotel about moving on made a lot more sense now. It bothered him.
He stood and picked up his plate, bringing it over to the sink. “You didn’t deserve what Jeffrey did to you. I hope you know that.”
“I do.” She reached for a towel to dry her hands but kept her gaze averted. “But no one forced me to date him. Or get engaged. I’ve been struggling with the fact that I was ever involved with Jeffrey in the first place, let alone so seriously. I’m a trained police officer. How could I have missed his true character?”
“Because you’re human and we all make mistakes.” Weston took a deep breath. This was a sensitive issue and he wanted to get the words just right. “When you learned about Jeffrey’s cheating, you didn’t try to destroy him or get even. He’d hurt you deeply. And you still treated him with fairness. Avery, you gave Jeffrey the chance to break things off with the junior attorney and put things right. Those are admirable actions. They speak far more about your character than anything else I’ve heard today.”