Vicious (10 page)

Read Vicious Online

Authors: Debra Webb

Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Suspense, #General, #Southern Crime, #Police Procedural, #Faces of Evil Series, #Sibling Murderers, #Starting Over, #Reunited Lovers, #Southern Thriller, #Obsessed Serial Killer

So far, he was doing an exemplary job.

The neighborhood was quiet. Most of the residents were either still at work or caught up in the commute home. Kids squealed and chased after a basketball in a yard at the far end of the block. No dogs barking. Too hot, she decided, and the humidity was stifling. Jess blew out a big puff of air and wished for cooler days.

“The Tide’s first game is next weekend. Which side do you stand on, Chief? Alabama or Auburn?”

“I prefer staying neutral when it comes to sports.” Jess considered her newest team member. “I didn’t take you for the college football type, Lieutenant.”

“Looks can be deceiving.” With that, he motioned for her to lead the way.

Valid point. Just because the box was pretty didn’t mean what was inside would be. Eric Spears was proof positive of that adage. She booted Spears out of her head. The Bureau was focused on finding him and the Stinnett woman. Jess had a job to do here. Staying on track was tantamount to getting that job done.

At least that was what she told herself every few minutes when he tried to strong arm his way into her head. She was here and this was her case. As much as Jess wanted to, she could not help Rory Stinnett. But maybe, just maybe, she could find justice for Lisa Templeton and Alicia Burgess.

The forensic techs had already made the second sweep, inside and out. On the stoop, Jess slipped on shoe covers and gloves while Hayes did the same. He finished first and opened the door. The stench of death lingered in the air, mingled with the humidity and filled her lungs. She stepped inside and moved through the house, taking her time despite the sickening odor. A second look always provided a few more details.

“No signs of forced entry,” Hayes commented.

“The front door wasn’t locked. In fact, it wasn’t even closed.” She perused the few magazines and other items on the coffee table.
Cosmo
and
Glamour
. A couple of Red Box rentals lay near the small flat-panel television. Templeton’s purse had sat on an end table, right where she’d left it when she came home that last night. Nothing had appeared missing. Not even the twenty bucks in her wallet had been taken. Burgess’s bag had been found in the bedroom on the dresser. Her credit cards and forty dollars in cash remained in her wallet. A couple of old cocktail napkins with names and phone numbers littered the bottom of both bags. The lab was analyzing the purses and contents, along with anything else from this house that might yield useful evidence.

The laptop that had been found on the counter had provided some insight to the victims’ social calendars. The perp or perps hadn’t bothered to take any of those items on the way out the back door. Told Jess the killer or killers either left in a hurry or weren’t interested in fast cash.

No cigarettes or ashtrays lying around. Both vics went to the gym four or five times a week, according to the personal trainer Cook had interviewed. No close family. Lots of friends. Two happy, beautiful, adventurous women.

The back door had been left open, whether by the victims or the killer was irrelevant. The point was breaking and entering hadn’t been necessary. Jess added too trusting to her list of adjectives about the victims.

The killer was most likely female. Small footprints and the lack of seminal fluid or other trace evidence indicating a male presence pretty much solidified that scenario in Jess’s mind.

She turned to Hayes. “Give me your impressions, Lieutenant.”

“No empty beer cans around. No drink glasses.” He surveyed the kitchen side of the living space. “The party ended here but it didn’t start here. Whatever alcohol the victims had consumed, they did it some place else and they brought trouble home with them.”

“Very good.” Jess headed toward the bedrooms. “Chuck’s Roadhouse was where the evening started. They closed the place down. According to witnesses, they drank a lot and danced a lot. The party was moved here for fun of a more intimate nature.” She paused at the bathroom. “The killer or killers showered off before leaving. Hair was removed from the shower drain as well as the sink. Forensics is still working on separating what belongs to the victims from any that doesn’t.”

“When the party arrived they didn’t spend much time in the front part of the house,” Hayes offered.

“They came straight here.” Jess moved on to the bedroom where the women had been murdered. “There are boxes of sex toys in the closet. Handcuffs. Whips.” Her attention shifted to the bed. “They wanted to play hard and rough.”

The tools the killer had used to remove the victims’ hearts had been analyzed. “Prints were found all over the tools used to remove the hearts, but no matches in any of the databases.”

“Why do you think their hearts were removed?” Hayes walked slowly around the room.

Good question
. “Since we know Templeton and Burgess were lovers, jealousy would be at the top of my list.”

“You think Slater had anything to do with this?”

Jess shook her head. “He’s a jerk. A taker. But he’s not this kind of killer.”

“What is this
kind
of killer?”

“All of us are capable of evil, Lieutenant. Maybe even murder.” Jess ventured to the closet and slowly rifled through the clothes, picturing the women in the racy outfits. These were women who kept in shape and liked showing off their bodies. They enjoyed the dangerous side of pleasure. “You,” she glanced at Hayes, “or I could commit an impulsive act. An act of rage that was driven by pure emotion at the spur of the moment, without premeditation.”

“But this was premeditated.” He paused at the foot of the bed.

“Absolutely. The tools confirm the killer thought out what she wanted to do before committing the murders. Even if murder wasn’t the intent when she arrived, she retrieved the tools from somewhere. Maybe from her car or maybe she went to a store and bought them. Either way, they were brought into the house with a certain intention. There is nothing here to suggest the residents kept or owned any sort of tools.”

“If the vics were drugged,” Hayes turned to Jess, “our killer had the run of the place. No worries about screaming or any noise associated with a struggle. He could do what he wanted and take what he wanted.”

“They were drugged.” That was the other part of this tragedy Jess felt confident in deducing. “Nothing, as far as we can see, was taken from the home except the victims’ hearts. The other organs were untouched suggesting it wasn’t about the black market. We can, I believe,” she moved to where he stood, “accurately conclude our killer planned the event to some degree. She intended to kill these two women. What we need now is to know why.”

“Hearts go for a nice price online for the discriminating palate.”

Jess had considered that avenue as well. “If that was the intent, the technique for removal was rudimentary and risky.” Even those who ate human organs preferred their purchases to be in good condition.

“I guess that leaves us with a more personal motive.”

“And when we find the motive, we’ll find our killer.”

Lisa Templeton had only just learned to pour her emotions into her art. Ellis’s comment about the victim sifted through Jess’s mind. Since Templeton had her coming out, was her murder, as well as her lover’s, a hate crime?

Jess needed air. The smell in here was beginning to overwhelm her. She sure hoped this queasiness didn’t last the duration of the pregnancy.

“I have to make a couple of stops before going back to the office, Walmart and my apartment. Will that be a problem?”

“I’m available for as long as you need me.”

“Good answer, Lieutenant.”

 

8

9911 Conroy Road, 6:45 p.m.

Hayes insisted on going in first.

Jess carried a badge and a gun too, but apparently that was irrelevant.

Thankfully her place was just one big room, not counting the bathroom, so his look around didn’t take longer than the allotted time she had to enter the security code before the cops were summoned. Like she didn’t have enough cops around already.

As soon as the system had stopped singing its annoying tune, she produced a smile for the man standing in the middle of her space. “I realize it’s late but I’ll be a few minutes more, Lieutenant. Feel free to call home. Check in with your girlfriend.” She waved her hand in dismissal. “Whatever you need to do.”

The idea of going to pee with nothing but a thin wall between them just didn’t work for her.

As if he’d abruptly realized she needed some privacy, he came to attention like a soldier falling into formation. “I don’t have anyone waiting for me at home, but I’ll step outside and check in with Detective Wells.” He started backing toward the door. “I’ll see if there’s anything new.”

Jess kept her smile tacked in place until he was on the landing and closed the door behind him.

“Finally.” She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and savored the smell of home. It was funny how fast this little garage apartment had become home to her. She stared longingly at her bed before letting go another sigh.

One day her life would be peaceful and normal. Ha! Now she was delusional. She hugged the overfilled Walmart bag a little tighter. Any hope of normalcy in the next couple of decades was long gone.

The bathroom made her smile again. She loved this little bathroom with its antique fixtures. After shutting and locking the door, she shouldered off her purse and let it drop to the floor. Hands shaking she dumped the array of feminine products she’d purchased on the floor and picked out the three test kits from the pile.

“Okay. Let’s do this.”

One by one she opened the three boxes, removed the test sticks and placed them side-by-side on the sink. She stared at the seemingly harmless plastic sticks for a whole thirty seconds. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know the answer already. This exercise in futility was totally pointless.

“Just get it over with.”

She assumed the position and did the required business, returning each stick to the sink ledge as she finished. Accomplishing the job was a little awkward, but she managed. Then she washed her hands and waited.

Three minutes felt like a lifetime sprawling before her.

She bent down and fished her cell from her bag. She might as well do something while she waited. Thumbing through her contact list, she paused on Buddy Corlew’s name and gave him a tap. During the three rings that followed, she shoved the test boxes and pamphlets back into the bag. That reminded her, she’d hidden the first test she’d used in the toilet tank. She should dispose of it, too.

As she reached for the tank lid Corlew croaked a hello. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked. He sounded sick or like he had a hellacious hangover.

“Flu or some such nonsense.” He coughed. “What’s up, kid?”

As she stood there holding the evidence of her latest secret, she had a moment of déjà vu. She’d called Corlew yesterday morning just before she’d had to make that unexpected trip to Tennessee. She wondered why it was that her first instinct was to call him. Definitely not because she trusted him… not by a long shot. Maybe because they’d known each other since grade school and he was from the same neighborhood as her. As kids they had lived a world away from Mountain Brook and Dan’s crowd.

“Did you go to the doctor?” She sank onto the toilet seat. If Corlew was sick, he probably hadn’t been able to look into that other business she didn’t want to talk about.

“Vanessa took care of me.”

Another coughing jag echoed in Jess’s ear. She made a face. He sounded terrible! “Who’s Vanessa?”

“Quincy. We went to school with her. She’s a doctor.”

Oh yes. Jess remembered her. “The girl who stole my pink purse in sixth grade.” The one her mother had given her for her tenth birthday. “The same girl who poured paint in my hair before the sophomore dance!” The freshman class had been tasked with painting a backdrop for the dance. The guy Vanessa liked had asked Jess to be his date. Vanessa had not been amused. Jess couldn’t believe that pesky girl was a doctor.

“That’s the one. As a matter of fact, she asked me about you.”

Jess peered at the test result windows. She frowned, wished they would hurry. “Why would she ask about me?”

“She wondered if you were married and had any kids. Pediatrics is her specialty.”

Twisting away from the incriminating evidence, Jess made a sound of disbelief. “Did you tell her no on both counts and that my career has kept me busy?” But that was all about to change. Jess chewed her lip. “Does she have any?”

His laughter turned into another coughing jag. “I told her all about you and, yes, she has four kids.”

Jess’s jaw dropped. “She’s a doctor and she has four kids?”

“Yep.”

If Jess was lucky he didn’t hear her scoffing sound. “More power to her.” Her frown deepened. “Why in the world did you call a pediatrician?”

“She’s the only doc I know who makes house calls.”

“For you maybe.” Every female in school had been enamored with Buddy Corlew. Except Jess. She had been in love with Dan. Most of the time. She and Buddy had their moments. But nothing ever came of a single one. Thank heavens.

“What’s up, Jess? I know you didn’t just call to see if I was still breathing.”

She stood, put her hand on her hip. “If you’re trying to make me feel guilty for not rushing over with chicken soup you can forget about it, Buddy Corlew.”

“A guy can hope.”

Jess rolled her eyes. Why the heck had she called him? Oh yeah. Stop skating around the issue. “I guess since you’re sick you haven’t had a chance to look into the accident that killed my parents?”

“I started some preliminary searches,” he said, surprising her. “But it’ll take some time, Jessie Lee. You only asked me to do this yesterday, you know.”

The past twenty-four hours felt like half a lifetime. She understood what she was asking him to do would take some time. Her parents had died in a car crash more than thirty years ago. Jesus! Why had she even opened this Pandora’s box? Whatever her Aunt Wanda’s agenda, Jess should never have allowed the woman to burrow under her skin with her claims about the past. Wanda Newsom had probably killed most of her brain cells with drugs and alcohol. She’d never done one good or kind thing for Jess or her sister.

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