The Chilling Spree (37 page)

I nodded.

“But your dad, he took it a step beyond
imagining how good that might feel, didn’t he?”

“I’m not –”

“You don’t have evidence.  That’s not
the same as being sure.  I have no proof that you know
anything, but I’m sure you’ve got a lifetime of memories that make
you understand completely what your father was capable of doing,
what he really did while you were growing up.  Tell me I’m
wrong.”

“Johnny –”

“I get it.  He’s your dad.  He
loves you.  Did I tell you that he loves you?  He told me
when I visited him.”

Gravity pulled another tear to the
floor.  I nodded again.  My words fled.

“He knew.  He read me like yesterday’s
news.”  Johnny laughed softly.

“How is this funny?”

“C’mon, Doc.  Your dad sized me up,
knew exactly why I was there.  I wanted to believe that it had
to be something other than what it looked like.  He led me
down the path that he wanted, a surefire way to protect you from
the FBI while at the same time, he protected you from me.”

“What?”

“I bet he never imagined I’d come back here
and tell you what I did.”

“Technically, I don’t think you wanted
to.  But after David told me they found the gun they believed
killed Rick, I knew you had to have done something.”

“And what was the result of that
conversation?”

My eyes widened.  “We broke up.”

“Exactly.  At the same time, your dad
got to screw with someone else who slipped through the cracks in
the legal system.”

“He knew,” I whispered.  “He knew
exactly what I’d do.”

“Uh huh.  And I bet he counted on fear
to keep us apart.”

“But why?”

“Seriously?  He doesn’t know me from
Adam, Doc.  Maybe he thought I’d have an attack of
conscience.  Or maybe he thought you’d tell me the truth about
Rick’s true cause of death and I’d tell the FBI that I set up
Marcos’ to take the fall for a murder that never happened, and
there would go his chance to stop another bad guy from doing his
thing.”

Or maybe Dad knew that I was a chip off the
old block in more ways than the red highlights in my hair. 
What he counted on was my desire to avoid the same fate he
suffered.  Suicide was the only plausible explanation if Rick
wasn’t murdered.  He bet on years of subtle education to kick
in right on cue.

For months I wondered how Dad managed to
nudge Johnny into doing his bidding.  Maybe murder wasn’t the
only thing in our blood.  Johnny was right.  Dad profiled
him to a T.

Warmth enveloped me.  “Let’s go back to
bed,” Johnny whispered into my hair. 

“What about Belle?”

“CSD will be over there all night. 
Maya’s got to do her thing.  We’re following the leads on the
other cases, and I’m convinced enough that Belle’s murder could be
linked.  We gotta sleep sometime, baby.”

“I think Madden knows more than he’s told
me.”

“Hence the date.”

“Yeah.”

His lie detector eyes trapped mine
again.  “Is that all this dinner date thing is about?”

“Of course it is.”

“Helen, don’t lie to me.  Weren’t you
trying to piss me off a little bit because I told you I didn’t want
to hear your story about Rick Hamilton?”

Fine.  Maybe a little bit.  He
read my chagrin and laughed.

“God, how I love you.”

“Sure took you long enough to remember,” I
grumbled.

“Hey, I never forgot it.  I didn’t
understand why I felt the way I did, how I knew someone was missing
in the hospital, but in my heart, I knew it meant something
important.”

The door to the house opened, and
sleepy-eyed Devlin appeared.  “Oh, you are back.  Phone’s
been ringing off the hook.  Briscoe said he hasn’t been able
to reach either one of you on your cells but that he needs to talk
to you like right now.”

“We shut them off before we talked to the
Goddards,” Johnny said.  “I’d better call him back,
Helen.  It sounds –”

“Like we’re not getting sleep tonight,” I
said.  “Go ahead.  I’ll make sure Devlin gets back to bed
without falling down the stairs.”

Johnny stole a quick kiss.  “You’ve got
an elevator, sweetheart.  He’ll be fine.”

“You heard the man.  Be careful out
there.”  Devlin closed the door before Johnny had his phone
out to call Briscoe.

“Hey,” he engaged the speaker function
before Briscoe answered.  “What’s up, Tony?”

“We got another call,” he said. 
“Damnedest thing, Johnny.  Luke Napier’s wife just called Bay
View Division about half an hour ago.  He never came home from
the office last night and she got worried when he didn’t answer the
phone.”

Luke Napier?  Why was that name
familiar?

“As in Reverend Luke Napier, one of three
people that Belle quoted in her article in the paper yesterday?”
Johnny dragged the article back to my thoughts.

“Shit.”

“My thoughts exactly, Helen,” Briscoe
said.  “We got a car headed over to Crevan’s folks place right
now.”

“What the hell is going on?  How can
this guy be killing gay boys on one hand, and killing those who
condemn them at the same time?”

“Well, Napier is as dead as poor Belle,”
Tony said.  “There’s another message.  They figured
they’d run it up the flag pole and see if the two of you want to
take the lead on this one too.”

“Where’s the body?” Johnny asked.

“Foundations Baptist Church,” I said. 
“It stands to reason, if he was found where his wife expected he’d
be.”

“She’s right, Johnny.  Only the poor
guy didn’t keel over dead at a desk.  Guess they found him
splayed out on the alter like the proverbial sacrificial lamb.”

“Do me a favor, Tony.  Meet us at the
church, and call whoever’s got the scene over there and let them
know Doc and I are on our way.  We’re not far, maybe twenty
minutes away.”

“Does Crevan know what’s going on?” I
asked.

“Nope,” Tony said.  “Lou sent him
home.”

I glanced at Johnny.  “Do me a
favor.  Let’s get someone over there tonight too,” I
said.  There was no way to explain the niggling sense of
unease uncurling in my belly, but I had a distinct feeling that
things were going to get a lot worse before the case closed.

“Do you think he’s in danger?” Johnny asked
as we climbed back into my Expedition.

“Crevan?  I’m not sure.  He’s
probably more capable of defending himself than our other victims,
but something about this just doesn’t feel right.”

“Talk to me.”

“I already said it.  There’s a huge
dichotomy going on here.  What do two young men who favor
living as women have to do with a reporter and a fundamentalist
minister?  What did we miss?”

“We won’t know that until we find out what
Napier and Belle had in common with our first victim,” Johnny
said.  “I could be wrong, but I’ve got a feeling that this
whole thing has been about Kyle Goddard from the moment the kid
stepped out of the closet.”

I couldn’t disagree.

Maya nudged the middle of my back with her
shoulder.  “We gotta quit meeting this way, girlfriend.”

“Have you ever seen anything so
bizarre?”

Her mouth twisted into a pucker.  “Give
me a break, Helen.  We’ve seen women beheadings, guys kicked
to death by cancer ravaged cows, a man that was embalmed before he
was dead.  What’s so weird about a pastor being gutted on the
alter of his church?”

“His mouth is sewn shut,” I pointed to the
crude stitches. “And could that be the missing appendage from the
Tippet crime scene on a shish kabob uh… where the sun don’t shine?”
Napier’s pants weren’t removed, just ripped crudely through the
seam of the rear-end.

Maya wrinkled her nose. “Uh-huh, but I
guarantee, that wasn’t the cause of death.  Unless of course,
the idea of finally shutting him up made him keel over dead or the
notion of taking it up the keister did the trick.  I hear this
guy isn’t the shy, retiring type, especially where his Old
Testament laws are concerned.”

“I wasn’t aware he had a reputation.”

“Briscoe told me,” she grinned.  “So
what’s your take on the whole mess?  I don’t see any more
creepy scripture scrawled in blood on the walls.”

“No, he just used Napier’s blood to
highlight the bible passage he wanted me to see at the pulpit this
time.”

“What was it?” she asked.

Johnny appeared on my other side. 
“Isaiah 53:7,” he said.  “
He was oppressed, and he was
afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth: he is brought as a lamb to
the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he
openeth not his mouth
.”

Maya shuddered.  “Ok, you win,
Helen.  This one is the most bizarre.  What the
hell.”

“We’re not going to find a message for Kyle
Goddard,” I said.

“Why not?”

“I think she’s telling you that Kyle was the
message, Johnny,” Maya said.  “It was the semen, wasn’t
it?”

I nodded.  “If Kyle had physically been
Kylie, there wouldn’t have been a murder.  Dammit.  This
has been staring me in the face since the beginning.  I can’t
believe I missed it.”

“I don’t follow.  Why did Napier’s
death, and this message specifically, help you figure out what you
missed?” Johnny asked.

“I’ll explain later.  Right now, I need
to talk to Crevan.”

“Helen –”

“Not as a suspect, Johnny, but as the single
person I can think of who knows more about the last two victims
than anyone else.  We don’t need to be here.  I think the
cause of death is evident.  If we’re going to stop this guy
before he hits anybody else, I need to talk to Crevan.  Either
you’re coming with me, or you’re finding a ride home to get your
car.  I’m leaving now.”

“I’m in,” Johnny said.  It was for the
best.  I had no idea where Crevan lived since his legal
separation and near divorce from Belle.

He started pumping me for information before
we were out of the church parking lot.  “Spill it, Doc. 
What’s this thing you think you overlooked?  How can Crevan
tie these crimes together?”

“I need to know about Napier and Belle’s
history.”

“Because you already suspect something.”

“Yeah, I do.  See, the thing about this
case that seemed like such a slam dunk to me a day ago has gotten
pretty murky in light of Belle’s murder.  I’ve been
unconsciously bashing my head against a wall trying to understand
what the link is.”

“And now you know.”

“Honestly?  I’m not sure about anything
at the moment.  But I’ve got all these statements people have
made swirling around in my head.  The first murder seemed very
cut and dried to me.  Someone killed that boy after they
realized he wasn’t a girl.”

“So now it’s a crime of passion.”

“Fueled by homophobia and bias,” I
nodded.  “So Tippet’s death wasn’t far outside the same vein
of thought.  He was a female impersonator.  But after I
talked to Alex Waters, it seemed like it could’ve been the
parents.  They targeted the people they felt were responsible
for their son’s abomination.  His best friend Kyle first, and
then probably Alex if you hadn’t had the foresight to intervene and
put him in protective custody.”

“But we don’t think they would’ve killed
Belle, right?”

“I highly doubt it.  She had an opinion
someone didn’t like, if we’re to believe the message at the crime
scene.  There’s also her bias against homosexuals.  In
evidence is our dear friend Crevan and the way she has threatened
him and engaged in emotional blackmail to get everything she could
from him in their divorce.”

“Ok, I follow this far.  How does
Napier fit in?”

“She quoted him in the last story she ever
wrote for
The Sentinel
, and his disgust with homosexuality
was blatant.  He did something else too.”

“What?”

“He attacked the religious status quo in
this city.”

“Huh?”  Johnny’s neck twisted for a
quick stare at me.

“Catholics, Johnny.  He essentially
said that his religion is the only true church, because they
actively campaign against the moral decay in this city.”

“So now it’s a gay bashing Catholic
committing these murders?”

“I highly doubt it.  I need to talk to
Crevan.”

“Because…?”

“There’s a link, something that ties Belle
and Napier together, puts them in a guilty position in the killer’s
mind that is right on par with Bobbi Tippet and Kyle Goddard. 
I don’t doubt that there’s bias involved in these murders. 
I’m just not convinced it’s as cut and dried as I initially
thought.”

“So what’s this thing you think has been
staring you in the face since Sunday night?”

“We never found out who Fulk Underwood was
meeting for his little sex sandwich rendezvous,” I said.  “He
told me that two girls were meeting him in another building at the
performing art’s center that day.  I’d be curious to find out
their names and if they ever showed up.”

Johnny groaned.  “You think he was
meeting Tippet and Goddard.”

“I think it’s a distinct possibility. 
Chris and Devlin might’ve been right all along.”

“But why is he still killing people?”

“I need to talk to Crevan,” I said. 
“He’s younger than Underwood.”

“He’s a day older than you are,” Johnny
said.

I frowned.  “Underwood?”

“Crevan.  Didn’t you know?  His
birthday is a day before yours.  Same year.”

“You’re just remembering all sorts of things
about me now, aren’t you?”

Johnny chuckled.  “I did request
information from the FBI about you, sweetheart.  Did you think
I wouldn’t notice something as important as the day you were
born?”

“I suppose you can tell me if a Gemini and a
Capricorn are compatible too.”

“You don’t buy that crap any more than I
do.  Besides, other than your duplicitous nature, you’re not
very Gemini-like,” Johnny grinned.  “And I’m nothing like what
the silly horoscopes say I’m supposed to be.”