Beautiful Maids All in a Row (21 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Harlow

BOOK: Beautiful Maids All in a Row
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“He loves me! He doesn't use me! I do it because
I
want to. You're wrong about him—I know you are.”

I leaned back into the couch. “Diana, I'm trying to help you here.”

“No, you're not! I know all about you! You're crazy; Jeremy said so. You killed someone and now you're coming after Jeremy because he's better than you.”

God, he had her completely brainwashed. “He's sick, Diana. He hurts people—not just you, but total strangers. And by lying to us, and covering for him, you're letting innocent people die. Is that what you want?”

“He didn't do it! He couldn't!”

Time to get off the river Denial. I opened my bag and pulled out five file folders, slapping them down on the white table as hard as I could. Diana leapt off the couch, her breathing becoming even more ragged. I flipped open the top file, revealing a photo of Sarah Illes caked in mud with bits of her cheek torn away. Diana gasped.

“This was Sarah Illes, or what was left of her after your boyfriend was done with her. She was a lawyer right here in New York, only thirty-five when she died. She was drugged, kidnapped, then dragged into the woods. You know what he did next? He cut her clothes off with a scalpel.” I took out a close-up photo of Sarah's purple wrists. “Look familiar? They should. You have a matching set. Hers came from struggling while he was raping her. Three times. Her vagina was torn to shreds. If he hadn't strangled her to death with his bare hands she probably would have died from the internal bleeding.”

“Please stop,” Diana whispered.

I pulled out a picture of her chest with the red hole. “After he basically fucked her to death, he pulled out a scalpel and hacksaw. Cut a square in her chest, cutting away fatty tissue and red meat, just tossing it aside for animals to eat. Then he pulled out the hacksaw, slicing through her ribs and sternum He yanked her ribs out with his bare hands. Then he cut out half her heart, which I believe is somewhere in this ice castle with the other four. There's no way he'd get rid of them, right? Not after all that trouble.”

“Please stop,” she pleaded, tears falling down her cheeks.

I ignored her. “Finally, he dragged her dead body to the edge of the river and tossed her in, where she wasn't found for almost two days. By the time we did find her she was so bloated we almost didn't recognize her. When her ex-husband had to identify her at the morgue, he puked all over her body. Nice, huh?”

“I'm going to be sick,” she said, choking back vomit. She stood to leave.

“SIT DOWN, DIANA!” I roared, frightening both of us with my tone. “We're not done here!”

She fell back to the sofa, her whole body shaking. I yanked out pictures of each of the women and the ranger, slapping them down next to each other, one more gruesome than the last.

“Amanda Denker, age thirty-four. Patricia Curtis, thirty-two. Dr. Justine Romy, thirty-six. Dr. Audrey Burke, thirty-five. Park Ranger Bruce McIntyre, forty. And these are just the ones we know about. Six people dead, eight children under the age of ten without a parent. Your boyfriend did this, and
you
let him. You
knew
what was going on, didn't you? Those days he was missing and told you to cover for him—the days he was
stalking
them—you knew. Guess what, Diana?
That
makes you an accessory to six homicides. On top of the fact you lied to a federal investigator already. That's life in federal prison. You will
die
there. Is Jeremy Shepherd really worth your life?”

She was sobbing hysterically, each sob wracking her body harder than the last. A groan like that of a wild animal escaped her mouth. She sprung off the couch and ran to the other room, hand covering her mouth. A second later I heard vomit hitting the sink in the kitchen. I counted to five and stood from the couch, grabbing my recorder, and walked to the kitchen.

I found Diana sitting on the white tile floor clutching her legs to her chest, green vomit staining the corner of her mouth, and her red eyes still emitting tears in a steady stream. I walked into the kitchen and stopped by the roll of paper towels. I pulled off a sheet and crouched down to her level. I handed her the paper towel, which she took.

She looked at me, fear and shame written all over. “I love him,” she said, her voice breaking.

“He. Doesn't. Deserve it,” I said, drawing out every word. “If you don't help us stop him, he will kill another woman. Another child will be motherless. Do you really want that?” She weakly shook her head no. “Then talk to me.”

“He scares me sometimes,” she said. “He was so sweet when we first met. He sent me flowers every day with little love poems in them. He listened to me. No man had ever done that before. But when I moved in, he…changed. He made me give up my friends, my job. I mean if I even tried to see a movie with my cousin he'd go crazy and say I didn't love him. What could I do?” She wiped a tear from her face. “I haven't spoken to my mother in over a year. He said he was all I needed, and I believed him.”

“Has he ever hurt you or made you do anything you didn't want to do?”

“I don't know,” she answered in a distant voice. “Sometimes we'd go to these clubs—bondage clubs—and he'd arrange it so I'd…have sex with a strange man while he watched. I told him I really didn't want to, but he'd insist and say if I really loved him I'd do it.” Her eyes grew wide. “I didn't want to, I really didn't,” she said desperately, “but I wanted to make him happy.”

“Has he ever raped you?” I asked delicately.

“He…” She bit her lip, but then the tears returned. “He likes to tie me up and strangle me,” she sobbed. “Oh, God.”

She hung her head and sobbed into her hands. She almost looked like she'd gone into some sort of fit. I just watched as the years of torture poured out. Poor girl, all the potential in the world and that was what she'd been reduced to. A sex toy for a psychopath. After a minute, the sobs lessened enough that she could breathe again. “Am I going to jail?” she asked through the sobs.

“If you tell us everything you know and agree to testify against him in court, I'm sure the prosecutor will be very lenient on you. You're as much his victim as they are.”

She mulled this over for a moment. “Those nights…he wasn't home with me. I didn't know where he was, but he said if anyone asked, I was supposed to say he was at home with me or at the cabin.”

“The two weeks you said you were at the cabin, was he there?”

“No. It was just Henry and me. Jeremy said he wanted me to go up with Henry so I could relax while he worked on a secret project, and if anyone asked he was there with us.”

“Have you seen a scalpel, ropes, or a gun anywhere?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head.

“The hearts?”

“God no.”

I sighed. “You're going to need to come to our office and make an official statement.”

“He'll be home any minute now,” she whispered. “If he knows I said anything…”

“Then you need to go into your bedroom, grab a suitcase, and come with us. We can put you up in a hotel room with a guard. He won't be able to touch you.”

“This is my home,” she said.

“This is your prison,” I said. “Please come with us. You shouldn't stay another minute in this place.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay,” she finally whispered. I clasped her hand, helping her to her feet. She scurried out of the kitchen and I headed back to the living room, turning off my tape recorder. A taped confession. I was the master.

As I was collecting the photos from the table, Luke walked back in. I was sure he'd spent the last few minutes looking around for evidence in plain sight since the occupant had invited us in. “I heard her packing. Guess it worked.”

“Yeah, she cracked on the alibi. He wasn't with her—surprise, surprise.”

“Will she testify?”

“I don't know. He has her totally under his control, almost to the point of brainwashing. At least now, we have enough for search warrants. I just hope—”

Without warning, the front door swung open and a confused Shepherd stood at the doorway with Mooney behind him, both looking mad as hell. “What is going on here?” Shepherd shouted. “What are you doing in my home?”

“Do you have a warrant?” Mooney asked.

“We were just questioning Ms. Hall, Dr. Shepherd,” Luke said.

“In my
home
?”

“We offered to take her to our office, but she declined,” I said with a wide grin.

His mouth turned down into a frown. “I want you out of here. I have been more than cooperative with you, but I will not stand by as you harass us anymore. I'm calling my lawyer.” He stepped into the apartment and over to the phone.

“You call him,” Luke said, “and tell him to meet you at our office. We have
quite
a few questions for you. And you, too, Mr. Mooney.”

Mooney didn't say a word. He stared at us with utter hatred.

“Your girlfriend turned on you,” I said with satisfaction. “She told us what a perverted freak you are. Oh, and she recants your alibis. All of them.”

Shepherd's eyes grew wide from the news. “Diana!” he shouted. Immediately, Diana ran down the hall, stopping a few feet away from him, petrified to get any closer. “Diana, what did you tell them?” he asked in a calm tone.

She began to shake all over. “I…I…” she stuttered.

Luke stepped between them, obscuring Shepherd from Diana's view. “Ms. Hall is coming with us,” Luke said firmly.

Shepherd moved to the left so he could see Diana again. “Diana, is this true?” he asked, each word getting firmer than the one before. His menacing eyes burned into hers. I tried to think of something to do to stop this but drew a blank, since shooting him was sadly out of the question. Diana gulped and looked around the room for salvation. I was about to open my mouth, but Shepherd beat me to it. “Diana?” Shepherd demanded again.

“I'm…I'm going to stay here,” she whispered, her voice hollow.

“What?” I shouted. “Diana, you aren't his slave! You don't have to stay here. We can protect you.”

Shepherd walked past an enraged Luke to Diana, placing his hand on her back. She almost jumped out of her skin at his touch. “We want you out of our home. Leave before I call the police.”

Luke stepped toward the unhappy couple. “Ms. Hall, are you sure about this?”

“She's sure,” Shepherd answered.

“She
can
talk!” I snapped. “Diana, please…”

She looked down at the carpet. “I'm staying here.”

“Dr. Shepherd, we're still going to need you to come to our office to answer more questions,” Luke told him. “All of you.”

“Tomorrow. We have dinner plans tonight,” he said. “I'm receiving the Humanitarian of the Year award tonight. My lawyer and I can be there at ten tomorrow morning. Is that sufficient?”

“No,” I croaked.

His gaze snapped over to me. “Then arrest me,” he countered. “Otherwise I'll be there at ten.”


All
of you,” Luke said.

“We'll be there,” Mooney said.

Luke sighed. There wasn't a lot we could do, which
really
pissed me off. Luke walked to the door and opened it, stepping out into the reception area. I glared at Shepherd once more before turning to Diana. “If you need
anything,
you call me,” I said, handing her a slip of paper with my number on it.

Shepherd snatched it from my hand. “That's very kind of you, Dr. Ballard, but she'll be fine,” Shepherd assured me.
Prick.
I slowly walked toward the door, making a point not to look at Mooney, who continued to glare as I passed. The feeling was more than mutual.

“See you tomorrow,” Shepherd called to me, “
Iris.
” I spun around and stared at him with utter contempt. He grinned at me with that all-knowing gleam in his eye. It felt like someone had poured ice water down my spine. “Pleasant dreams.”

Rolling my eyes, I quickly turned and walked out of that apartment, shutting the door quietly behind myself. “Did you hear that?” I asked Luke. “Did you hear what that ass said to me?”

“He's just trying to get to you.”

“That motherfucker,” I said under my breath, pushing the elevator button over and over again. “I should have told her to forget the packing and just got her out of there right then. She's going to come in tomorrow and recant.
Shit!

The elevator door opened. “We have everything on tape,” Luke pointed out.

“Cyrus Beaton will have it thrown out in a New York minute.”

“You got her to crack once; you can do it again.”

“We're not going to get anywhere near her from now on. He'll have her locked up in that prison, doing God knows what to her, until the trial.
If
it even gets to trial!”

“We still have enough for search warrants and for Agent Lamb to let us question other people. We're bound to uncover something.”

“I hope so,” I said with a sigh, “because if she's all we've got, we're fucked.”

I shut the door, listening until I heard the ding of the elevator. They were gone.

“Jeremy, I—”

She couldn't finish. I punched her hard in the stomach, causing her to collapse onto the floor. The bitch's face turned red and contorted in pain. She gasped for air as I grabbed her hair and began dragging her kicking toward the bedroom. Henry stood there like a good boy, guarding the front door. Nobody ever came when she was hysterical like this, but it was good to be cautious. Especially with Iris so close. The stupid cunt knocked against my end table and the crystal vase atop it fell to the ground and smashed into pieces. Oh, she was going to suffer.

We reached the bedroom, and I kicked the door shut. I could see the panic in her eyes underneath the tears. I lifted her by the hair, flinging her on the bed. She didn't even try to run as I stripped off my coat and unbuttoned my shirt.

“You let them into my home…” I tossed the shirt to the floor. “You told them about me…” I unbuckled my alligator belt. “You were going to leave with them…” I unzipped my pants. “And you say you love me.”

“I do love you,” she whimpered.

“Prove it.” I dropped my pants. “Scream for me.”

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