Deadly Sins

by Stacy M Jones

  My mother was a nurse. She divorced my father when I was very young. He went back to Ireland, where he was from. He came back once, long enough to get my mother pregnant with my younger sister Liv, and then left the final time. She raised us.

  She came from a big Irish Catholic family herself, six sisters and one brother. They say it takes a village and that’s what my family is. They all live in the same neighborhood. No one ever left, except me. My mother liked me under her thumb, which is why she hated Little Rock so much. She blamed the city for my departure years ago. Liv still lived at home and probably would until she found a suitable husband.

  “Mom, it’s work. I’m on a case. What are they saying on the news?”

  “That George Brewer is a serial killer!” my mother yelled. Then she did what she always does, put me on hold to answer her call waiting.

  She kept me stewing on hold for at least two minutes, which seemed like an eternity.

  “You there?” her voice boomed into my ear as she clicked over.

  “Yes. Mom, is that what they really said or just what you think?”

  “Like I’m lying,” she said clearly exasperated with me. “Well I’ll tell you this, that man is no good. I said it from the beginning, but you don’t listen to me. So really when you’re dead - buried or cremated?”

  My mother was obsessed with funeral arrangements. She already had her wake planned. I got the shock of my life one Christmas when I went to the cemetery to visit my grandparents. Right next to their headstone was my mother’s, a small rose-colored stone with her name and date of birth engraved. A little warning would have been nice. But as she told me, it slipped her mind. I think she actually tended to her own grave when she visited the cemetery.

  “I’ll call you later,” I said, ending the call and avoiding answering her ridiculous question. She was constantly trying to get me to plan my own wake and funeral. She acted as if I were two seconds from death all the time.

  CHAPTER 34

  I SLID INTO THE DRIVER’S SEAT of my Jeep and was just about to turn the key in the ignition when an older model black pickup truck pulled up next to me going in the opposite direction. Ben, the reporter from the other night, put down his window, leaned out and asked, “How’s the case coming along?”

  “On or off the record?” I wasn’t sure what he knew about me but given his close relationship to Luke and the question, I’m guessing he at least knew I was an investigator.

  “Off. I got something you might be able to use. Let me pull over and we can talk. I was going to try to get your number from Luke so this is good timing.”

  He pulled along the curb as I got out and stood next to my car. I hadn’t really noticed the night before what he looked like. He had dark messy hair falling in his face, bright blue eyes and a disarming smile. He probably did well interviewing people for the paper. He was kind of a guy’s guy. Men would trust him and women would be attracted so they’d naturally tell him what he wanted to know.

  “Welcome back to Little Rock. I’ve been asking around about you. From what I hear you were a great journalist. Too bad you gave it up.”

  “This suits me better. You said you got something for me?”

  “I do. I already told Luke so I’m pretty sure it’s okay to share with you. George Brewer has had multiple affairs. He’s got motive to kill Maime. You should probably look into that angle. I heard the rumors at the golf course. I was even able to get a couple of names. I can’t share those with you but the police have them. I’m sure if you ask around you’ll get them too.”

  Ben was a pretty good reporter. None of the news stations had run the story yet. I wondered why. This was a scoop if I ever heard one. I wasn’t going to let on we already knew.

  “If you’re so sure about this, why haven’t you run with the story yet? If it’s true, this is a big break for you,” I said, testing him.

  “I haven’t been able to confirm it yet with any of the women. It’s all speculation right now. You know how that goes. Plus, I have a good thing going with police department. I wouldn’t want to piss off anyone by running a story too soon.”

  “You’re playing both sides of the fence.”

  “What do you think about all this? Ever had a case like this?”

  “A missing person’s case?”

  “A serial killer case. I mean, if it wasn’t for people actually dying, they are kind of cool to write about and investigate. Don’t you think?”

  “I don’t think anyone said there’s a serial killer. But yes, they can be interesting cases.” In some ways Ben reminded me of myself when I was a reporter. He was eager, making good connections with law enforcement, and really had an interest in crime reporting.

  I wanted to know what else he knew and see if I could get any of the local gossip out of him so I asked, “Any chance you want to grab a beer and talk about the case? I got some time.”

  “Sorry, I can’t. I’m covering the other missing woman story, too. Laura Bisceglia. You know about that, right?”

  How did the media get a hold of this information so quickly? Cooper and I just left Laura’s house at two-thirty this afternoon. It was only closing in on seven now. Her parents hadn’t even arrived yet and no official report made. I couldn’t see Elaine or her parents calling in the media yet. I was starting to wonder if there was a leak in the police department. Then thinking back, my mother did say missing women, not just one.

  “How did you hear about that case already?” I asked cautiously.

  “I guess you haven’t been watching the news. It’s gone national. We got a tip about an hour ago.”

  “Who was the tip from?” It was a stupid question. I knew he’d never reveal his source.

  “I don’t know. Like I told Luke earlier, my editor Cathy gets the information and sends me out,” Ben explained as he turned to leave.

  I watched him go, wondering what to make of him. He turned back, flashed me a smile, ran his hand through his hair and said, “Maybe some other time we can grab that beer. I’m sure you’ve got lots of interesting stories to tell.”

  CHAPTER 35

  COOPER FOLLOWED THE GUY IN FRONT OF HIM desperately trying to keep up. He couldn’t lose him. The guy drove like he was the lead car in the Daytona 500. After leaving the LaRue’s house, where they didn’t provide any new information other than insisting George was guilty, Cooper made his way back to downtown Little Rock and picked up his surveillance case. He watched the guy’s condo until he left. Now he was flying over the streets of Little Rock. Cooper hated mobile surveillance like this. His truck wasn’t equipped, especially not on the curvy streets of the city.

  Together they climbed the hill on Cantrell, leaving downtown Little Rock behind. Cooper needed to stay close enough to catch all the green lights with the guy. But stay far enough back not to be suspicious. Luckily, it was dark out, and it would be harder for the driver to tell he was being tailed.

  This was the third time Cooper attempted surveillance on him. He lost him twice before due to the guy’s reckless driving. This time the guy was definitely working his way out of the city. Cooper had no idea where he was headed, but he was hoping it was to see his mistress. Cooper needed the evidence to give to his client, the guy’s fiancée.

  By the time they made their way out of the Heights neighborhood and out to Highway 10, the guy was easily doing sixty-five, a good twenty-five over the speed limit. It seemed to Cooper, he was leaving the city limits of Little Rock and heading to more rural areas. When they hit a straightaway, Cooper dropped back to give the guy some space. As he drove, Cooper tried to recall if there were any motels out this far. He expected the guy to stay downtown so he really had no idea where they were headed. Sometimes this was the more interesting part of his job. He rarely knew when he headed out on a surveillance case where he’d end up. He had to be prepared for anything.

  Several miles outside of the city the guy made a right onto a dirt road. Cooper flipped his lights off and followed a distance behind
. The guy’s break lights cut through the dark, allowing Cooper to keep track of him. Not being able to see what was in front of his truck on the stretch of road without headlights wasn’t the smartest plan, but Cooper knew it was a necessity. He slowed almost to a stop when the guy’s car pulled off to the left at an older style motel.

  Cooper pulled over to the side of the road just before reaching the motel. He parked and sat in total darkness with trees to the left and right of him. Just up to Cooper’s left the motel’s lights gave away the entire parking lot and the motel lobby. Through a big front window, Cooper saw one old guy sitting at the lobby desk, his legs outstretched and feet up on the desk while he watched a small television. A few cars littered the parking lot. Three of the ten rooms had lights on.

  The guy Cooper had his eye on got out of his car and went to room number three and knocked. Someone answered. Cooper could only make out the bare arm of a woman. He wasn’t going to get any photos or video evidence out here. Cooper would wait until they came out so he could get a good description on the woman. Now it was just a waiting game. At least Cooper remembered something to drink, and he had some pretty good tree coverage to take a leak.

  The hours passed slowly. Cooper assumed they must be really going at it hot and heavy to be in there this long. His attention was starting to wane when suddenly a car zipped by him that looked like an unmarked police car. He sat up straighter to get a better look. The car pulled into the motel parking lot, joining a car that had just come in the opposite direction.

  Cooper grabbed his binoculars and zeroed in on the unmarked car. He was so focused on checking out who the cop was and what he was doing, Cooper almost missed the guy stepping out of the BMW parked next to the unmarked car. It was Dean. There was someone else in the passenger seat that Cooper strained to see. He couldn’t really tell, but it almost looked like Maime’s father Edwin. Edwin hadn’t mentioned a meeting to Cooper when he was just with him, but then again, he hadn’t said much at all.

  Dean walked around his car and exchanged a few words with a guy Cooper had never seen before. They both looked around somewhat cautiously before Dean pulled a thick white envelope from the inside of his sport jacket and handed it to the guy. The other guy pulled out a stack of bills from the envelope and began to count. As he started, Dean laid his hand on top of the money and shook his head no. The guy put the money back in, looked around again and went to the passenger side of the BMW.

  Cooper couldn’t see what he was doing. He practically jumped out of his driver’s seat and moved from side to side in an attempt to get a better angle. Cooper couldn’t no matter how he tried. The other guy moved back towards Dean, shook his hand, slipped into his car and took off in the opposite direction of Cooper.

  Dean stood for a few moments watching the car race off and then got in his car and turned out of the lot in Cooper’s direction. There was nowhere for Cooper to hide. Dean was going to pass right by him. Cooper did the only thing he could think of. He slid himself down into his seat and ducked his head low and hoped that Dean didn’t see anything more than an empty truck.

  After Dean passed by, Cooper sat up and looked around again. All was quiet and the subject of his investigation was still tucked inside his hotel. Cooper debated leaving or calling Luke. He had no idea what he just witnessed or even who the guy was that took what Cooper could only imagine was a bribe in the dead of night.

  CHAPTER 36

  MY MOTHER AND BEN HAD BEEN RIGHT. The story had broken on all the national news stations. After leaving Dean’s house, I came back to my own. Once inside, I started a fire in the fireplace, slipped off my shoes, threw on some comfortable clothes and sat down in front of the television. I ate the Chinese take-out I had picked up on the way home as I watched events unfold live on CNN. They were reporting from spots along the Arkansas River where the victims had been found.

  Captain Meadows was giving a brief but effective rundown of everything that had happened over the last day and a half and what they had uncovered so far. I must have missed it, but at some point Luke had identified one of the women found in the river. They showed a recent photo of her, told the public she was from Little Rock but worked out of New Orleans. She was the daughter of well-known Congressman Mike McCarty. The media speculated that she was a high-end call girl but the police weren’t confirming.

  I flipped from station to station and they were all saying the same thing. Three women found in the river and two more missing. The only possible suspect was George Brewer. His connection with both Maime and now Laura sealed the deal in the media’s mind that George must be a deranged serial killer. Law enforcement didn’t connect George to the cases of the deceased women, but they also didn’t say they weren’t connected, which was enough for the media to make the assumption. If George Brewer had connections to the missing women, he must be connected to the dead ones, too. They speculated that it was just a matter of time until Laura and Maime were found in the river.

  Maime’s friends, who refused to speak to me, were interviewed. Each of them had George arrested, tried, convicted and sitting on death row. I really couldn’t eat anymore. The whole thing made me sick to my stomach. I brought my dishes to the sink and debated when I was going to tell Luke about the bracelet. I should have done it today. I knew it would have been one more piece connecting George.

  Could I really have loved a serial killer? I wonder the number of women that have had to answer yes to that question. It was a club that I definitely didn’t want to belong.

  My phone rang just as I finished washing my dinner dishes. It was George. He needed to speak with me immediately and was coming over. I had to tell him I wasn’t at the hotel. He was surprised that I still owned the house. He stood at my front door less than ten minutes later. While logic should have told me to be afraid of him, I just couldn’t muster it up. The only thing I asked him was to dodge the media. I didn’t want them following him over.

  “You look awful. What’s the matter?” Obvious answer but George looked twitchy even for the circumstance. He sat down on the couch. I took the chair opposite him.

  “I have to tell you something. It’s hard for me to say. I need your help. I think I’m being framed,” George said, leaning back on the couch and closing his eyes.

  “Framed? Why do you say that?”

  He kept his eyes closed and said almost in a whisper, “I know one of the women they found in the river.”

  “I know,” I deadpanned. I wanted this explanation. I was ready for it.

  George sat up and looked at me like I had no idea what I was talking about. “You know? How could you possibly know?”

  “Just explain. I told you before, I can’t help you if I don’t know the truth.”

  “I’m not proud of this, but when I travel to New Orleans for work I hired her from time to time. I’d see her here in Little Rock, but we never meet here just when I went there. It was too risky at home.”

  I tried to hide the shock I felt. I must have done a good enough job because George kept talking. He explained how he had been given Madame Breaux’s number from a friend of his, one of her other clients. That was how Breaux worked, client referrals only. He explained that it was easier sometimes than meeting a woman. That hiring one meant no strings for sure. He paid what he paid, had a wonderful night and she never asked for more. George said it was worth the money to get what he needed and leave it behind until his next trip to the city.

  “Did you hire her this week, George? Did you hire her to come screw you while your wife is missing?” The anger just bubbled up. I could feel myself close to losing my temper in a way I hadn’t ever with him. I got up, walked to the kitchen and started washing my dishes again, slamming them around in the sink. I couldn’t even control my temper enough to ask about the woman wearing the bracelet. This made four women he was connected to.

  Shannon wasn’t the woman wearing the bracelet.

  He came up behind me, standing close enough to feel his breath on my neck. He r
eached out for me. I shrugged him off.

  “Don’t touch me. Don’t ever touch me,” I shouted.

  Turning to him with my hands soapy and wet, I shoved a finger into his chest. “Tell me, did you sleep with prostitutes before we were together? While we were together?”

  “No, I swear to you.”

  I didn’t believe him.

  “Did you kill her?”

  “How can you ask me that? Don’t you know me at all?”

  “All I know for sure is you don’t know what the truth is.”

  Out of sheer frustration, I knew I was going to cry, and I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

  Pointing to the door, I yelled one last time, “Get out of my house. I can’t even stand the sight of you right now.”

  CHAPTER 37

  LUKE LOOKED AT HIS WATCH. Ten-thirty. He was exhausted. He wondered where Riley was. Probably home. He regretted having been so terrible to her all day. He needed her on his side. She could get information from George he clearly couldn’t. If Luke was really going to be honest, he also missed her.

  There was a time not too long ago that he and Riley would have ordered dinner in, sat up all night and discussed his investigations. When things ended, he missed that. He missed everything about their relationship. Luke hated to sound so cliché but she really was one of his best friends. He didn’t want to admit it to himself but it had been the best relationship he had ever had. He still didn’t even really understand why it hadn’t worked out. He had too much to think about now to worry about it though.

  Luke sat at his desk and flipped through case file after case file. He talked to Shannon McCarty’s brother Devon. He knew even less than Breaux. A local New Orleans cop was working some local angles for them, interviewing some of the other girls to see if there was some way to use some political pressure to get the client list. Shannon’s father, who had the clout, was playing the public relations game, saving his own reputation. He didn’t seem to care his daughter was dead, just that his political career wasn’t destroyed as a result. He’d be no help.