Read Dangerous Mercy: A Novel Online
Authors: Kathy Herman
Tags: #mystery, #Roux River Bayou Series, #Chrisitan, #Adele Woodmore, #Kathy Herman, #Zoe B, #Suspense, #Louisiana
CHAPTER 33
Jude sat at his desk, reviewing the evidence they had so far in the bathtub killings. He heard a knock on the door and looked up, happy to see Special Agent Kyle Duffy in the doorway.
Jude rose to his feet. “Come in, Kyle. I was just about to have a Coke. Would you like one?”
“I would, thanks. I’ve come up with a rough profile. I was hoping to run it by you before you left for the day.”
“I was hoping the same thing. You think it’s someone who’s working alone?”
“I do.” She pulled out a chair and sat at the table. “Is there anyone else you want to sit in on this?”
“Not yet. I’d like to hear it first and get a feel for what we’re dealing with.”
Jude took two cans of Coke out of his minirefrigerator, went over to the table, and popped the tops. He handed one to Kyle and then sat across from her.
She folded her hands on the table. “Let me start by saying there was a lot to consider. The perp’s MO changed with the fourth
victim
—but just enough to tell us his story. Or what I believe is his story.”
“Go on,” Jude said.
Kyle took a pair of round glasses out of her briefcase and slipped them on. “The perp is male, thirty to thirty-five years of age. He’s physically strong. Left-handed. He’s highly intelligent but plays it down as part of his cover. He’s likely self-employed so he can control his time. Early in his life, he suffered the loss of someone close to him. He has control and abandonment issues. This is a man filled with rage and who’s a master at concealing it. He’s friendly, but only to mask the anger that’s eating him up. He’s on a mission to take back control of his life by destroying those who have controlled him—those whom he holds responsible for his pain.”
Kyle turned the page and took a sip of Coke. “His MO with the first three victims tells us a lot. He cleaned out their safes, which symbolized his stripping them of their wealth. He drowned each of them while they were dressed in business attire, symbolizing his washing away the injustice done under their authority. He drugged them just enough to render them helpless, yet leave them fully aware that he was taking back the power they once held over him by taking their lives. That’s why he made sure their eyes were open when he drowned them. He made sure he had their full attention. It was essential to him that his victims understood what he was doing—and why.”
Jude leaned back in his chair. “So you concur that he targeted these CEOs because they were behind the layoffs and foreclosures?”
“Not necessarily. His grudge is personal. Each of these victims caused some kind of trauma in his life, real or perceived. I believe he numbered them to humiliate them. Having the power to turn them into murder statistics and knowing that’s the way they will be remembered was more satisfying to him than the brief but excruciating pain they experienced in a wet drowning. I haven’t been able to establish that the order in which he killed them represented anything specific. It’s possible. But more important is the matter of how Jeanette Stein figures into this.”
“Go on.”
“She wasn’t a CEO. She was wearing a nightgown, not business clothes when he drowned her. He didn’t sexually assault her. He didn’t take her money. Or take the lives of her children. All he wanted was to take back control—like he did with the CEOs.”
“What control did
she
have over him?”
“I’m guessing romantic. Either they were involved or he fantasized that they were. Your report indicates Jeanette LaBelle Stein had a boyfriend when she worked at Aubry.”
“Yes,” Jude said. “And we’ve talked with the employees who knew her. She was private about that relationship. No one remembers meeting him. Not even her sister, who was away at college. Unfortunately, we can’t question her parents. Her father’s dead, and her mother has Alzheimer’s. We’re talking with relatives, but so far, no one can remember the guy’s name or what he looks like.”
“Someone does,” Kyle said. “You need to make finding that someone a priority. The boyfriend could be our killer.”
“So what was the stressor that set him off? Do you think he was laid off?”
Kyle shook her head. “He’s young. I’m not sure being laid off at this age would be devastating enough to trigger this kind of reaction. He didn’t have a lot to lose yet. He wouldn’t have had time to build up a pension. And if he owned a home, he probably hadn’t had it long.”
“So what are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that someone close to him was laid off and lost their home. Possibly a parent or a close relative. It was likely tragic and affected him deeply.”
“I don’t get where Jeanette LaBelle Stein fits into this.”
“I’m still trying to piece it together. But I believe she broke his heart.”
“Based on what?” Jude took a sip of Coke.
“They were almost the same age, considerably younger than the other victims. Romantic involvement would be the perfect stressor if she ended it and he didn’t want to.”
“And what makes you think that’s what happened?”
“Because no one close to Jeanette can remember ever meeting the guy. That tells me that perhaps the relationship meant more to him than it did to her. I think the stressor was her ending it.”
Jude scratched the stubble on his chin. “Makes sense.”
“There’s more. It’s significant that, before he drowned her, he didn’t defile her.”
“Why is that significant?”
Kyle’s eyes grew wide. “Because unlike the others killings, ending Jeanette’s life wasn’t about revenge, it was about it being
his choice
to break it off with her. It wasn’t his choice before. She left him and broke his heart. But this time, he was totally in control. He wanted her to know that he didn’t need her anymore. That he was no longer dependent on her emotionally. That he was no longer in bondage to the debilitating pain that had controlled him since she ended the relationship. Her death—his act of letting her go—was the finale. He had to take her life in order to get his life back. It’s complicated.”
Jude combed his hands through his hair, his elbows planted on the table, his mind racing with the implication. “So you think he’s done killing?”
“I didn’t say that. He’s dangerous. He’s already killed four people to exact his justice. He would certainly kill again to keep from getting caught.”
“So it’s
not
over—at least not if he feels threatened.” Jude looked over at Kyle. “I’m still not clear on how Jeanette Stein is connected to the other victims.”
“Neither am I. Maybe she isn’t. Maybe the only connection is that she added to his pain and was last on the list of people to eliminate.”
Jude pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. “I’d better go tell my people to step up the questioning of everyone who knew Jeanette LaBelle when she was working at Aubry.”
“Jude, wait.” Kyle seemed deep in thought. “I want to talk to Jeanette’s mother. Even if she has Alzheimer’s, her long-term memory might kick in if we ask questions about Jeanette’s boyfriend.”
“You really think the boyfriend is the key?”
“I’m convinced he could be our killer.”
He glanced at his watch. “I don’t know what time they put the patients to bed at the Alzheimer’s center.”
“I don’t think we can worry about that. We need to find this guy. And we need to do it now.”
Adele unlocked the front door and went inside, Murray right behind her. She spotted an envelope on the floor. Before she could bend down to get it, Murray picked it up and handed it to her.
She saw it was from Danny, and her pulse quickened. Why didn’t he mail it? Did Murray notice the return address on the envelope? If he did, he didn’t react.
“Thank you, hon.” Adele stuck it in her purse and walked out to the kitchen. “I’ve still got some chocolate chip cookies that Isabel baked. Would you like some?”
“I don’t know where I’d put them.” Murray put his hands on his middle. “But I wouldn’t mind something cold to drink.”
“I’ve got a whole pitcher of raspberry iced tea.”
“That sounds great. I’d love some.”
“I had such a wonderful time,” she said. “And the rookery was amazing. I’d like to go back with my camera.”
“I had a feeling you’d enjoy it.”
“I’ve never seen that many shore birds gathered in one area. Goodness, the ground looked like snow.”
“It’s pretty amazing.” Murray glanced at the purse tucked under her arm. “Would you like me to put that somewhere for you?”
“I’ll just set it over there on the counter. I’ll get our tea.”
Murray sat at the kitchen table, seeming to avoid eye contact, his finger slowly tracing the floral pattern on the tablecloth. He was quiet. Too quiet.
“Are you feeling all right?”
Murray folded his hands on the table. “I couldn’t help but notice the envelope I picked up was from a private investigator. Are you having someone investigated?”
She felt the heat scald her cheeks. What should she say? Should she lie? How could she?
“I routinely get background checks on my household help.”
“Isabel?”
“Yes.”
“So, if I were to read that report, would my name be mentioned?”
Adele carried the glasses to the table and sat across from Murray. “For twenty years, I used Danny Clinton to do a background check on every person I put on the payroll at Woodmore. When I moved here, I hired you and Noah on a fairly routine basis. I invited you into my home. I didn’t know a thing about you.”
“So you had us investigated?”
“You make it sound like a bad thing, Murray. It really isn’t.”
“Then why don’t you read the report?”
“I already know what it says. This is just the written confirmation of my conversation with Danny on the phone. Neither you nor Noah had anything in your backgrounds that gave me cause for concern. But I had Danny do a background check for another reason too. I thought if I could understand what had hurt you, I could help you get your life back.”
“You couldn’t have just trusted me and waited until I
chose
to tell you personal information?”
“I didn’t think you were going to open up. But you did, and I’m glad.”
“But earlier, when I was spilling my guts, you sat there, already knowing everything I told you and just played me?” Murray’s voice sounded gruff.
“I certainly did not
play you
. Reports don’t tell the whole story.”
“But you already knew today was my birthday?”
“Yes, I did. I also know your given name is Robert Murdock Hamelin Jr.”
Murray tapped his fingers on the table. “Did your PI tell you where I worked?”
“Yes—for that big computer outfit that’s been in the news. I wasn’t surprised. It’s top-notch, and you’re very smart with computers.”
“Did he mention my fiancée?”
“Not by name. But I’m so glad you told me about her. It helps me to understand some of the choices you made.”
Murray threw his hands in the air. “Don’t presume to understand me. You don’t even know me.”
“But I do.”
“You don’t, Adele! You just think you do. I have a side you wouldn’t like very much.”
“So do I. Just ask Isabel.” Adele wrapped her hands around the cold glass of raspberry tea. “I accept you for who you are, Murray. I care about you. Surely you can see that.”
“Then why didn’t you just ask me this stuff, instead of hiring a PI to sneak around behind my back?”
“I did ask you,” she said softly. “I tried several times to get you to open up about your parents and your grandma Sophie, and you shut down.”
“But that was
my
choice,” Murray said.
“Yes, it was. I’m sorry. I truly am. I overstepped. I should have just trusted you to tell me when you were ready.”
“Which is exactly what I did.” His intense blue eyes narrowed. “Have you told anyone else what you found out about me?”
“Oh no. I would never do that. I hadn’t even planned to tell you. I just wanted to know enough about you so I could help you get on with your life.” Adele sighed. “Have I lost you as a friend, Murray?”