Revenge of Innocents (27 page)

“Let’s say Drew gets out and goes looking for Jude,” Mary shouted.

“I still can’t hear you. Close the door.”

Mary did what he said, but she knew it was wasted energy. Forensics was starting to transfer evidence from the house to their vans. For the moment, though, it did reduce the noise level. “Carolyn claimed Drew didn’t act upset about the way things went down when she picked him up last night. Maybe he wasn’t upset because Jude was telling the truth. We need to take a look at Carolyn’s phone records, as well as the jail’s, see if Drew could have called Jude and threatened to get back at her when he got out. She fell apart after Thomas admitted that her father might be acquitted. Jude’s a smart girl, Hank. She knew her criminal record would detract from her credibility, along with her drug use and promiscuity. When we told her she was free to go, her demeanor changed. She was probably terrified.”

“I knew you were going to blame me,” Hank said, frowning. “How did I know she was going to sneak out the back entrance, or that she’d lift the court reporter’s wallet? I figured even if Gary Conrad lost her, without any money she couldn’t get far. The whole point was that she might lead us to Stockton.”

“Let’s say you’re right and Don Snodgrass and Drew were both pedophiles,” Mary went on. “They started molesting their daughters as children and somehow got together.” She snatched a coffeecup out of the hands of one of the forensic officers. “Thanks, Gretchen. I need this more than you. I’ll buy you lunch as soon as I find time to eat.” She took a swallow, moistening her scratchy throat. “It must be eighty degrees in here, Hank. Did the Santa Anas blow in again?”

“Body heat,” Hank said. “We must have fifteen people crammed in this place, along with a truckload of equipment. At least we got the corpse out. He was beginning to get ripe.”

Mary removed a red scarf from her back pocket and tied it around her head to use as a sweatband. “What if either Jude or both the girls started threatening to expose their fathers? There’s a good chance the men swapped them or forced them to have sex with each other, then made their own child pornography. This might be the reason they were inseparable. No one else knew their horrible secret. At the same time, a history like that could have caused them to be fiercely competitive.”

“Makes sense,” Hank said. “But where does Stockton fit in?”

“Stockton is the avenger.”

“Excuse me,” the detective tossed out. “This isn’t a comic strip.”

“Shut up and listen,” Mary said. “Both girls dated Stockton, probably slept with him, did drugs with him, maybe even at the same time. In case you don’t know, the greatest male fantasy is a threesome.”

Hank looked down at his shoes. He wondered if Martha had a girlfriend who might be persuaded. He was getting excited just thinking about it. He had to remind himself he was at a murder scene.

“Uh-huh,” Mary said, jutting one hip out. “Now you know why I’m not married. Can you get your mind back on police work?”

“I thought I saw something strange on the floor.”

“Sure you did.” She waited until she had his complete attention. “Stockton’s a handsome, fit black guy from New Orleans, a city that’s known to have more criminals than citizens.”

“That’s before Katrina,” Hank said. “Half of them either died, escaped, or set up business somewhere else on federal money.”

“I asked you to listen.”

He smiled. “No, you didn’t. You told me to shut up. You can’t talk like that to a superior officer. Keep it up and you’ll be back in uniform.”

“You can’t afford to lose me. I have the best handle on this case. Can I continue please? Say Jude and Haley tell Stockton their sordid stories. Stockton brags about how he escaped from jail, and maybe even describes some of the crimes he’s committed. These three had something in common. They all had things to hide. So either one or both of the girls ask Stockton to kill their fathers. Things go haywire somewhere along the way, and Haley and Veronica end up dead. Jude, coached by Stockton, tells us just enough to get her father thrown in jail.”

“Can’t kill a guy if he’s in jail.”

Mary scrunched up her face. “Drew didn’t stay in jail, did he? Stockton used Drew to take the heat off. Then when Jude retracts her accusations, knowing this will result in her father’s release, Stockton is poised to move in for the kill. Jude could have sweetened the pot with the cash and airline tickets. Stockton knew the jig was up once we got his fingerprints. He knew if he didn’t disappear, he’d end up in prison.”

Hank held up a palm. “Slow down a minute. If Stockton shot Drew, who ran over Jude?”

“Drew,” Mary told him. “Don’t you see? Jude may have found a spare key to the house the night she overdosed. She hands the key to Stockton, then goes to one of her regular hangouts to wait for him to do the deed. Instead, her father shows up. Maybe it was a legitimate accident. She could have tried to get away from him and he chased her down with the car. Or maybe she was hiding behind the truck, then came out when she thought it was safe only to see her father barreling straight at her. As soon as he hit her, Drew took off. At the same time, Stockton is lying in wait for him here at the house. He uses the key to enter, and when Drew falls asleep, he shoots him.”

“There’s only one major problem,” Hank said. “Forensics says there’s nothing on Drew’s car that would indicate it was involved in an accident. The Explorer is white, Mary. The nurse said the car was dark. Some of the other stuff is good, though. We’ll run with it as far as it can take us. You’ve left out Snodgrass. What part does he play?”

“Well,” Mary said, “Snodgrass could have been the one who ran over Jude instead of Drew. Maybe he was afraid she would implicate him, and we’d find out he killed his daughter. He may also have been worried that Drew would spill his guts one day. If Snodgrass killed his own daughter, he could kill anyone.”

“What color cars does he own?”

“A white Mercedes and a blue Jag.”

“Sounds like the guy’s got some bucks.”

“Snodgrass is a CPA. He owns an accounting firm.”

Hank wasn’t buying Stockton’s role in the murders. The truth was in there somewhere, though, hidden among the thousands of loose ends. Brainstorming at the crime scene sometimes produced results. They were only a few feet away from the bloodstained sofa where Drew Campbell had spent his last moments. When you studied a homicide from behind a desk, you were removed from the stark reality, even in a series of crimes this brutal. “Why didn’t Snodgrass shoot Jude, then?”

“If he hit her with his car, he assumed she was dead. He doesn’t want to establish a pattern, so this worked out perfectly for him.” Mary paused and placed her hand on her head. “Now that you mention it, there is a pattern. Veronica was shot. Haley was beaten. Drew was shot. Jude was hit by a car. Maybe every other victim gets shot. That’s an easy death compared to what Haley and Jude have gone through. I hope to God she can keep that arm.”

“There’s two killers,” Hank said adamantly. “Drew and Don Snodgrass. Stockton is nothing more than a low-level thug, just some guy who took advantage of a disaster to escape from jail. Get cooking on the search warrant. As soon as you’ve got it, call me and we’ll pick up Snodgrass. I want to execute the warrant while he’s at the station.” He turned to walk away, then thought of something else. “What happened to the other car?”

“What car?”

“Jude had a car,” he said. “She said her parents wouldn’t let her drive it until she got a job to pay for the insurance. I think she said it was an older model Taurus. Don’t you remember? She mentioned it that first night in Santa Rosa.”

“I forgot, Hank,” Mary told him, a chastised look on her face. “It wasn’t here when she overdosed. The only car listed in the report was the Explorer. We towed Veronica’s county vehicle from the motel.”

Hank had been the first one at the scene that night. They’d both dropped the ball on this one. “Either Jude has the car, or the person who ran over her has it. Pull the license number off DMV and broadcast it immediately. Make certain the dispatcher cautions that the driver may be armed and dangerous. Use Stockton’s description, and send it out nationally. We know Jude isn’t driving it, and it’s highly unlikely a CPA knows how to hot-wire a car. If we don’t make an arrest soon, there won’t be anyone to arrest. At the rate we’re going, all our suspects will be dead.”

“I’m on it,” Mary said, elbowing her way through the throng of officers.

Rebecca was sitting next to Carolyn in the waiting room at the hospital, thumbing through a
People
magazine. Marcus had fallen asleep on the sofa across from them. She tossed the magazine on the table and stared at Marcus. “Why do guys sleep with their mouths open? It makes them look like old men.”

“I don’t know,” Carolyn mumbled under her breath. Still in shock over the tragic events related to Jude, she felt completely devastated by Drew’s death. She should never have let him go inside that dark house alone. She should have stayed with him, insisted he come back to Marcus’s place. She wished she could talk to her mother. Marie Sullivan was a retired chemistry professor, and possessed the type of rational mind that had always helped Carolyn put things in perspective. Just when her mother had convinced everyone she was on her death bed, she’d sold her condo and taken off on a trip around the world.

She considered calling her brother, Neil, but she knew he might only intensify her hysteria. He was definitely not the type to deal with a severed limb. Until Marcus came along, Neil and Carolyn had either talked on the phone or seen each other every day. Moving in with Marcus had seemed like the perfect time to cut the cord. Her brother’s lively personality made him a delightful person to be around when things were good. When problems developed, he could be more irritating than supportive.

She looked lovingly at Marcus, remembering how disturbed he’d been after he’d found Drew’s body. Right now, there was nothing she could do but cope.

She’d insisted Marcus bring Rebecca to the hospital to make certain she was safe. Since Jude had slipped out of the house without their knowledge, she didn’t trust his bodyguards. Would the killer come after her now, thinking Drew had told her something when she picked him up at the jail? Not only was she at the end of her emotional rope, but she was legitimately frightened. Whoever had written her the letter and assaulted her that night in the parking lot had threatened to go after her children. “Can you call one of your friends and have them pick up your work from your teachers?” she asked Rebecca. “I don’t want you to go to school tomorrow.”

“But why, Mom?” Rebecca protested. “There’s nothing I can do. There’s nothing you can do, either. The doctor said Jude’s going to be in a coma. You can call and check on her from the house or your office. It seems silly to make us all sit here. I’ve worked so hard to keep my grades up.”

“I want you with me,” her mother told her. “I need you. These people were my friends.
Our
friends, Rebecca, not just mine. Sometimes you have to make sacrifices in life. You can do your schoolwork here.”

“Fine, I’ll call Anne Marie.”

Carolyn locked her fingers around her wrist. “Call someone else.”

“You’re hurting me,” Rebecca told her, jerking her arm away.“Why can’t I call Anne Marie? Her sister was killed. Shouldn’t I be there for her? I mean, you’re making such a big deal about Jude.”

“I can’t tell you everything that’s going on right now, but you may have to talk to the police about the things you told me about Mr. Snodgrass.”

“What things?”

“There’s a killer out there,” Carolyn said in a firm voice. “We don’t know who he is, or what he’s going to do next. Haley Snodgrass was sexually abused, more than likely by her father.”

Rebecca tossed her hands in the air in frustration. “You’re going crazy, Mom. You must be sleep-deprived or something. In my health class, we learned that going without sleep for a long time can make you delusional. Anne Marie’s father is a sweet man. He’d never do perverted things to his kids.” A sad look passed into her eyes. “I wish my father cared as much for me as Donny does for Anne Marie. He takes her to amusement parks all the time, gives her money, and lets her buy anything she wants. When Haley got her driver’s license, he bought her a BMW convertible. It was used, but not many kids get a BMW for their first car.”

“Do you call him Donny?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m not being disrespectful or anything. He tells all Anne Marie’s friends to call him Donny.”

Everything was gelling in Carolyn’s mind. “He didn’t buy Anne Marie a BMW, did he? You told me she has to borrow her mother’s Cadillac when she wants to go somewhere. That’s why she can’t come to see you at Marcus’s house, because the gas is too expensive.”

Rebecca shrugged. “Maybe Donny doesn’t have a lot of money right now. How do I know?”

“Has Anne Marie ever talked to you about her father?”

“He embarrasses her. He tells stupid jokes and tries to act like he’s a teenager.”

“Do you know what a pedophile is?”

“A creep who likes to have sex with kids. Good God, Mom, Donny isn’t a pedophile. You think everyone is a criminal. Take a pill and chill.”

“I need to check on Jude,” Carolyn said, pushing herself to her feet. “Don’t call anyone. Marcus will pick up your schoolwork.” Afraid Rebecca would call her friend and tip her off about her father, she stuck her hand out. “Give me your cell phone.”