“We should be careful with Farmer. His reality isn’t
cogent. He ain’t right,” Carleton added dryly when everyone gave him a puzzled
look. “We need to consider what he says accordingly.”
“Right now he’s all we have,” Abbott said, “cogent or
no. Ian, anything?”
“The Bolyards were shot with the same gun, a nine-mil.
Harvey Farmer and Katie Dobbs were killed with a same, but different gun,
higher caliber. Katie’s face had lacerations and bruises, probably from a
fist.” He hesitated. “Katie had had intercourse an hour before her death.
Unlikely that it was consensual.”
Noah gritted his teeth. “Jack did not rape her. Dell
did,” he said even as a new wave of nausea rolled through him at the thought of
what Dell might have done to Eve.
“I told IA that,” Ian said quietly. “Based on the
blood spatter, Katie’s body temp, and the chemical levels in Jack’s blood, he
was already unconscious when she was shot. It might have been harder to
definitively say that, however, if we hadn’t gotten there when we did. That
open window would have muddied things considerably.”
“So,” Abbott said, “we need to at least ask the
question. Open windows at Harvey’s house and Jack’s. Any chance Dell could have
killed five women?”
Carleton shook his head. “It’s far more likely Dell
just picked up this element of the Shadowland killer’s MO. He seems like a
quick study, writing news articles that Buckland’s editor accepted as genuine.
He’s not a stupid man.”
“Just not cogent in his reality,” Abbott said
sarcastically. “Olivia, Katie was his brother’s fiancée, but he used her to
hurt Jack. There’s something there. Use it to froth him up. Get him agitated,
then get him talking. I want to know what Dell saw last night. Micki, anything
from the Bolyard house?”
“No forced entry. So far no forensics. Looks like he
caught them by surprise at dinner. The wife was probably shot from the doorway.
She fell face-first into her dinner. The husband was collapsed over her,
probably protecting her.”
“Would have better protected her by not confronting
Donner in a coffee house,” Abbott grunted. “What else?”
Micki produced a small plastic bag. “Cat hair, found
in Rachel’s living room. It matches cat hair we took from Martha’s carpet. It
doesn’t give us any more on the killer’s identity, but it’s a connection to
give the DA when we finally catch him, just like this one.” She put a photo on
the table. “Christy, leaving the diner. Look at her shoes.”
They did, everyone frowning. “And?” Noah asked.
“They’re Manolos, four hundred bucks a pair,” Micki
said.
“Spendy,” Olivia said. “I still don’t get it. Why are
the shoes important?”
“Because they weren’t in her closet, they weren’t
anywhere in her house,” Micki said.
“His souvenirs,” Carleton said. “It’s very common for
serial killers to take souvenirs, and shoes are among the most common things to
keep. Again, nice connection once you find him, but not terribly helpful to me
in forming a profile.”
Micki looked unhappy. “I’m done now.”
“It’s good work, Mick,” Abbott said, trying to smooth
over Carleton’s tone.
Carleton winced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be
dismissive. Knowing he collects things is just more of the same. It doesn’t
help me, help you.” He glanced at his watch. “I have a patient at nine. Call me
if there’s any change in Jack’s condition.”
“Will do,” Abbott said, then turned back to the team.
“Today, we focus on finding Donner and cracking Dell Farmer. Noah, you and I
will go to Donner’s office at Marshall and execute the warrant. Olivia and
Kane, you’ve got Farmer.”
“What about the coffee shop?” Noah asked. “The TV
reporter said that Bolyard saw Donner there. They’ll have tapes. Eve says
Donner eats at the Deli. Let’s start there.”
Abbott shook his head. “I went by the Deli as soon as
they opened this morning. Security video is only of the register and the
barista didn’t remember Martha, Bolyard, or Donner. Let’s meet back here at
two. I have a press conference at three, so get me something.” He met their
eyes, grim. “A killer would be nice. Web, you’re with me.”
Noah stopped at his desk to get his hat and coat and
found Eve staring at her laptop screen, her expression intent. “What are you
doing?” he asked.
“Trying to keep busy. Natalie won big at the casino
last night because Dasich and one other player got thrown out for cheating
and—” She pursed her lips. “I’m babbling. Dr. Pierce stopped by on his way out.
He said he had dinner with Dean Jacoby last night. They know it was me. He said
Jacoby wants to see me this morning, but I told him you’d made me promise to
stay here.”
He wasn’t sure what to say. “Eve, you did the right
thing. Whatever happens.”
“I know,” she said, then smiled, ruefully. “Luckily
I’m a damn good bartender so I’ll still have one career. You take your desk. I
know you’ve got work to do.”
“It’s okay. You stay here. I’m on my way out.”
“Noah?” She stood as he buttoned his coat. “They’re
releasing David from the hospital this morning and I have to take him home. I
can’t stay here forever.”
Yes, you can.
The thought rose above the worry and he tucked it away. There would be time for
that later. He looked at Abbott, who was waiting impatiently. “Bruce?”
Abbott looked irritated. “I’ll have someone drive her
over later. Now let’s go.”
“Captain, wait.” Faye hurried up to them, a paper in
one hand. “Donner’s LUDs. His last call went to 411 at 10:40, but the one
before that went to his mother, around 6:00 p.m. Here’s her address. You want
me to have the locals meet you there?”
Abbott grabbed the papers greedily. “Yeah, call ’em,
but tell them to stay back until we get there. Thanks, Faye. Noah, let’s roll.”
Thursday, February 25, 8:30 a.m.
Olivia and Kane were preparing for another go at Dell
Farmer when Olivia got a call from narcotics that left her smiling, albeit
grimly.
“What?” Kane asked when she hung up.
She told him about the call from Tom Hunter in the
middle of the night and the dealer Damon who might have license plate info.
“Two SUVs could be a coincidence, but we can’t afford to assume. That was my
old pal in narc. They have Damon in custody.”
“How much did he have on him?”
“Recreational. But that violates his parole, so we’re
in business. I want to know if he saw the license plate on that Navigator.”
“He’s gonna want a deal,” Kane said glumly, in his way
that reminded her of Eeyore.
“I know. Let’s go to the DA, see if he’ll give us
wiggle room.”
Kane paused at the bullpen door. “What about her?”
Olivia turned back to look at Eve, who sat at Noah’s
desk, hunched over her computer. “She’s digging in that game, hoping to find
something we can use.”
“Wish I’d never heard of that damn game,” Kane said as
they walked to the elevator.
Olivia punched the button so hard her finger buckled.
“Don’t we all?”
Thursday, February 25, 8:45 a.m.
Liza screamed. She was running, couldn’t get away.
Lindsay chased her, her face gray, gaunt.
Dead. She’s dead, she’s dead
.
But the scream never made it out of Liza’s mouth, coming out as a muffled
grunt. Her body wasn’t moving. She was tied, she realized. Her hands and feet
were tied. She breathed through her nose.
Her mouth. It was taped shut. It came back in a rush.
The man, his hand over her mouth, the sting of a needle on her neck.
What
did he give me? Where am I?
She opened her eyes a slit, relieved when her lids
obeyed. It was dark, and they were moving.
A car
. She remembered his
car.
I’m in the trunk.
Do not lose it now
, she commanded herself. She focused on the breaths she took. And as
her pulse steadied, she knew she was not alone. She could smell… blood.
Oh my God. Lindsay
. She clenched her eyes shut, refusing to look.
Maybe he lied, to
scare you, to make you obey. Maybe she’s alive, maybe she needs you. Open your
eyes and look
.
Dammit, girl, look
. Her heart pounding in her ears,
she made her eyes open, blinking to see in the darkness. Then saw what she’d
smelled.
She froze, the scream trapped in her throat.
Eyes.
Open eyes. Staring at me
.
Lindsay was dead.
I will be, too.
Thursday, February 25, 9:15 a.m.
Noah checked out the car in Adele Donner’s driveway,
his gun drawn. “Covered in snow. Been here all night.” He and Abbott went up
the front walk while two uniformed officers went to the back. They had the
exits covered.
Abbott rapped on the door, hard. “Police,” he called.
“Come out, Donner.”
The door opened, revealing two women, one about ninety
and the other perhaps fifty. “We’re both Mrs. Donner,” the older woman said,
her chin up. “What do you want?”
Donner’s mother and his wife. The wife’s eyes were red
and swollen and she cried quietly. The old woman’s eyes, though, were clear and
cold as ice.
Abbott looked over their heads. “Step aside, ladies.
Please.”
“Do you have a warrant?” the ninety-year-old demanded.
“Yes,” Abbott started, but Noah held up his hand.
“Mrs. Donner, you know why we’re here. Please don’t
make this any harder.”
Donner’s mother’s chin wobbled, her only sign of
weakness. “He’s not here.”
Abbott’s jaw hardened. “What do you mean, he’s not
here? His car is here. His wife is here. Where is your son, Mrs. Donner?”
Donner’s wife wiped her eyes. “He’s out back. At the
pond.”
Noah started to run. A single set of footprints marred
the snow and by the look of them, they weren’t fresh. From the snow that had
filled them, they were hours old. No footprints came back to the house. Donner
had left during the night and not returned.
Noah strode through the snow, motioning to the
uniforms to spread out. But when he got to the pond he abruptly stopped. His
breath hung in the air as he stared at the bench at the pond’s frozen edge. He
lowered his pistol. No need for it now.
“Goddammit,” one of the uniforms cursed, barely
managing to stop before stepping in what had been Donald Donner’s brains. “What
the fuck is this?”
Noah pursed his lips, swallowing back the bile.
Animals had done what animals do, but there was enough of Donner left to see
the pistol in his ringless right hand.
He turned to find Abbott staring as well. Together
they walked back to the house and knocked on the front door again. This time
Donner’s mother let them in.
“We want this to be over,” she said with dignity, then
placed their hats on a sideboard before leading them to the living room where
Donner’s wife sat in a chair, sobbing. Adele Donner lowered herself to a sofa,
looking every one of her ninety years.
“He had a brain tumor,” Adele said. “The doctors gave
him less than a thirty percent chance. All my son wanted was to see his work
published one more time.” She took a sealed envelope from the table beside her
and gave it to Noah. “He wrote you a letter, Detective. He told me to give it
to you.”
“He never would have hurt anyone,” Donner’s wife said.
“He couldn’t live with knowing that his study… That all those women died.”
“When did he shoot himself?” Noah asked softly.
“About eight o’clock last night,” Adele answered.
“That bench was his favorite spot.”
Eight o’clock,
Noah thought
. Before the last call from his home phone went to 411.
“You heard the shot?” Abbott asked.
Both women nodded. “And we knew it was over,” Adele said.
“It was what Donald wanted. He’d suffered so much, I couldn’t tell him no.”
“Why didn’t you call 911?” Abbott asked, more gently.
Adele Donner cast a quick look at her daughter-in-law.
“I don’t drive at night, and last night she… well, she just couldn’t drive. We
decided that we’d drive into town this morning, to see the sheriff.”
Donner’s wife closed her eyes. “My mother-in-law
wanted to call 911. But I didn’t want to be here when they took him away.”
Noah stood, his shoulders heavy. “We’ll get someone
out here to take care of him.”
In the car Abbott was grim. “He still could have done
all five murders, you know.”
“I know. But do you think he did?”
“No. What does the letter say?”
Noah scanned its contents. “What you’d expect. He does
give his regards to Eve.”
Abbott started the car. “I’m sure you won’t mind
passing that on.”
Noah’s jaw tightened. “Why are you being like this? We
wouldn’t have a case if she hadn’t come forward.”
“She didn’t come forward, Noah. We had to drag her in
here.”
“Not true. You’ve always been reasonable before.
What’s the problem now?”