Count to Ten (39 page)
“What do you have, Michaels?” she asked.
“Two adults, one male, one female. Both about fifty. Male’s been stabbed in the back with a long thin blade, woman’s had her throat slit. Both were in bed at the time. The bed was ignited, but ceiling sprinklers put out most of the flames so the bodies are burned, but not charred. I left the bodies in the bed until the fire marshals had a chance to look around. I understand they’re on their way.”
“I called Lieutenant Solliday as soon as I got the word. In fact,” she said, looking over her shoulder, “that should be him right now.”
Solliday’s SUV pulled to the end of the line of cars. He grabbed his tool bag before making his way to the fire truck. He stopped to talk to the company chief, flicking occasional glances up at the house. Once, he lifted his hand in greeting, as if she hadn’t just come from his bed. As if she just hadn’t told him her damn life story in the most embarrassing and humiliating of ways.
What was I thinking?
What was he, now?
His was the best way to handle it, she supposed. She turned back to the uniforms. “Who ID’d the -couple as the Doughertys? Last we heard they were in the Beacon Inn.”
“The homeowner. She’s sitting in the cruiser,” one of the uniforms said. “Her name is Judith Blennard.” He led Mia to the cruiser and bent down, speaking in an overly loud voice. “Ma’am, this is Detective Mitchell. She’ll want to talk to you.”
Judith Blennard was about seventy years old and didn’t weigh many more pounds. But her eyes were fierce and her voice boomed. “Detective.”
“You’ll have to speak up, Detective. They carried her out without her hearing aid.”
“Thanks.” Mia crouched down. “Are you all right, ma’am?” she asked loudly.
“I’m fine. How are Joe Junior and Donna? Nobody will tell me.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. They’re dead,” Mia said and the woman’s face crumpled.
She covered her mouth with a thin, bony hand. “Oh dear. Oh my.”
Mia took her hand. It was ice cold. “Ma’am, why were they staying with you?”
“I’ve known Joe Junior since he was five years old. No better people in the world than Joe Senior and Laura -Dougherty. Always volunteering with charities, taking in lost boys. When I saw what had happened to Joe Junior and Donna, it seemed right I should return the favor and take them in. I offered to let them use my addition for as long as they needed it. They refused at first, but... This was no coincidence, Detective.”
Mia squeezed her hand. “No, ma’am. Did you see or hear anything?”
“Without my hearing aid, I don’t hear much of anything. I go to sleep by ten and I don’t wake up till six. I’d still be asleep if that nice fireman hadn’t come in to get me.”
It wasn’t David Hunter’s company, Mia had noticed right away. As the firefighters packed up their gear, Reed finished talking with the chief and started toward them, talking into his little recorder. He stopped at the cruiser and Mia motioned him down.
“This is Mrs. Blennard. She owns the house. She knew Joe Dougherty’s parents.”
Solliday crouched down beside her. “The fire took out the addition only,” he said loudly. “Somebody was smart enough to build with firewalls and sprinklers.”
“My son-in-law is a builder. We built the addition for my mother. We were afraid she’d leave a burner on or something, so we installed extra sprinklers.”
“It saved your home, ma’am,” he said. “You can probably go back in a few days, but we’d like you to stay somewhere else tonight if you don’t mind.”
She gave them a sharp look. “My son-in-law’s coming to get me. I’m not a foolish old woman. Somebody killed Joe Junior and Donna tonight. I’m not sticking around for him to come back for me. Although it would be nice to get my hearing aid.”
“I’ll send someone in for it, ma’am.” Solliday gave the request to one of the officers, then motioned to Mia. “The sprinklers wreaked havoc from an evidence preservation standpoint, but the bodies weren’t burned.”
“That’s what Michaels said. Can we go in?”
“Yeah. Ben’s already inside and I’m waiting for Foster to get here with his camera.”
“And I called Jack. He’s sending a team.” She followed him around the back and inside where Ben Trammell was setting up the field lights.
“The fire only burned the bedroom, Reed,” Ben said. “And not that much. We could get lucky this time and get something to tie our guy to this scene.”
“Let’s hope,” Solliday said, shining his flashlight up at the ceiling. “Nice installation. The sprinklers wouldn’t have been noticeable to White.” The field lights came on and everyone stared at the bed. Mr. Dougherty lay on his stomach looking sideways and Mrs. Dougherty lay facedown in the pillow. Blood soaked the bedding.
“He died immediately,” Michaels said from behind them. “Blade went right through his heart. She’s got defensive wounds.” He lifted her gown to show a large darkening bruise on her lower back. “Probably his knee.”
“Did you cut her nightgown?” Mia asked and Michaels shook his head.
“We found her that way. The fabric’s sliced clean through.”
“Do a rape kit, okay?”
He shot her a glance. “Doesn’t appear to be any evidence of force, Detective. This lady bruised pretty easily and there are no bruises on her thighs. But we’ll do the kit.”
“Thanks. Can he take them?” she asked Solliday and he nodded. Frustrated and sad, she stood with Reed at the foot of the Doughertys’ bed as Michaels took them away. Then shook herself back into focus. “He killed Mr. Dougherty first,” she said.
“Because he would have tried to protect his wife.”
“Right. He died painlessly. But Mrs. Dougherty... He tied her up, shoved a knee in her back and at some point flipped her over and cut away her nightgown.”
“But then it looks like he didn’t rape her. I wonder why. I can’t see him as merciful all of a sudden.”
“He could have gotten disrupted. Then he flipped her back over and slit her throat from behind. Spooked and run. Why?”
“I don’t know. Why the Doughertys to begin with?”
“It doesn’t make sense,” she agreed. “The Doughertys didn’t even know Penny Hill.”
“And we’ve been looking for ties that didn’t exist all week,” he added grimly.
But more than the wasted hours reading files, Mia was thinking about Roger Burnette and the grief in his eyes when he’d confronted her about their lack of progress. “We need to tell Burnette. He needs to know he’s not responsible for Caitlin’s death.”
“Do you want me to go with you?” he asked.
She thought about the drunken rage in Burnette’s eyes. Having Solliday along probably would be smart. “If you would.”
“When I’m done here we’ll go.”
“I’ll call Joe Dougherty’s father in Florida.” She was headed for her car when she heard her name. It was one of the officers and he held a white cat.
“Detective? We found this cat outside and Mrs. Blennard says it belonged to the Doughertys. She can’t take it with her to her daughter’s house.”
Mia stared at the cat. “What do you want me to do with it?”
He shrugged. “I can call animal control or...” He smiled engagingly. “Want a cat?”
Mia took the cat with a sigh. The ID tags on his collar looked remarkably like her dog tags. “You’re a lucky cat, Percy. You dodged a bullet twice this week.” The cat blinked up at her. “Kind of like me,” she murmured. “You can sit in my car for now.”
Friday, December 1, 5:05 a.m
He felt her behind him before she spoke. “Anything?” Mia asked.
Reed shook his head. “No. He didn’t use gas, because there isn’t any. He didn’t coat Donna Dougherty’s chest with the solid accelerant like Penny and Brooke.”
“He did use an egg with a fuse,” Ben said from the corner where he was sifting through debris. “That’s about the only thing he did that was the same.”
“I notified Joe Senior and did some door-to-door.”
Reed could see how much it cost her. “Did you ask him how Joe Junior and Donna were linked to Penny Hill?”
“I tried. After I told him about their deaths, he stopped talking.” Her brows crunched. “I called the local sheriff and they found him passed out on the floor, still holding his phone. They rushed him to the hospital. They think he had a heart attack.”
“This just keeps getting better,” Reed said. “That poor man.”
“I know. I wish I’d known he had a heart condition. I’ll get next-of-kin information on Donna Dougherty from her office when it opens in a few hours. On the plus side, I did get a description of a suspicious-looking car that sat on the street for about two hours tonight. A girl and her boyfriend were making out in the boyfriend’s backseat and every time they came up for air they saw this car. Light blue Saturn.”
“Did they get a plate number when they were coming up for air?” Jack asked wryly.
“Only half. Oh, and he let the cat out again.”
“Where is Percy?” Reed asked.
“In my car. He’s clean this time. If you’re ready, I still want to go to Burnette’s.”
“Let’s go.” He waited for her to leave, then groaned. An
Action News
van sat on the side of the road, a well-groomed Holly Wheaton standing in the street. He felt Mia tense next to him. “Don’t say anything,” he murmured. “Please. No matter how much you want to rip off her face. Don’t mention Kelsey or her story. Let me say ‘no comment.’”
Holly walked up to them, a feral gleam in her eye. “This is the fourth fire the arsonist has set this week. What are the police doing to keep the people of Chicago safe?”
“No comment,” Reed said and walked faster, but Holly was not to be deterred.
“The victims here were Mr. and Mrs. Joe Dougherty, the same couple whose house was destroyed last Saturday night.”
Mia stopped and Reed wanted to protest. But he’d cut her off at the knees the last time the two dueled. This time he’d keep his mouth shut. As long as he could, anyway.
“We don’t release the names of victims until their families have been notified.” She looked directly at the camera very soberly. “It’s our department policy and it’s the humane thing to do. I hope you agree. Now, if you’ll allow us to get back to our jobs.”
“Detective Mitchell, Caitlin Burnette will be buried today. Will you be there?”
Mia kept walking and Reed started to draw an easy breath.
“Detective Mitchell, some have said the murder of Caitlin Burnette was related to her father’s career. Do you think a child should be punished for the sins of her father?”
Mia paused, her body snapping rigid. Her head turned, her mouth opened to spit out what would no doubt have been a scathing retort on Burnette’s behalf. Then Reed felt the abrupt change as her shoulders relaxed. She stepped up her pace. “Follow me,” she said, her voice low so that only he could hear. “Holly might have something.”
Friday, December 1, 5:40 A.M.
M
ia met him at the curb. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want her to follow us here.”
Reed looked around. It was a well-kept neighborhood. “Where is here?”
“Blennard’s daughter’s house. Something Wheaton said about the sins of the father made me think.”
“Wheaton was just trying to get a rise out of you, Mia.”
“I know.” She started walking up the front walk. “But what if the Doughertys were killed because of the sins of Joe Junior’s
parents
? And based on the way Donna Dougherty died, the sins of his
mother
? Blennard said the Doughertys were always taking in boys.”
Realization dawned. “Foster parents. And they’re both Joe Dougherty. Joe Junior never even needed to change the name on the mailbox. He killed the wrong couple.”
“I think so. I tried calling to confirm with Joe Senior, but the cops in Florida say his heart attack was really bad. He’s intubated, so he can’t talk. But maybe Blennard remembers something.” She rang the bell and a man came to the door. “I’m Detective Mitchell and this is my partner, Lieutenant Solliday. We need to talk to Mrs. Blennard.”
“Clyde, who is it?” Mrs. Blennard came to the man’s side, the hearing aid now in her ear. Her eyes widened. “What can I do for you, Detectives?”
“Ma’am,” Mia started. “You said the Doughertys ‘took in lost boys.’ Did you mean they were foster parents?”
“Yes. For ten years or more after Joe Junior moved away and got married. Why?” Her old eyes sharpened. “The other woman killed, Penny Hill... she was a social worker.”
One side of Mia’s mouth lifted in respect. “Yes, ma’am. Do you remember any trouble they had with anyone? The boys? Their families maybe?”
She frowned, thinking. “It’s been a long time. I know they took in a lot of boys. I’m sorry, Detective, I can’t remember. You should ask Joe Senior. I’ll get you his number.”
“It’s all right. I called him.” Mia hesitated. “Ma’am, he didn’t take the news well.”
The old cheeks went a shade paler. “His heart’s been bad for years. Is he dead?”
“No, but he’s not good.” She tore a page from her notebook and scrawled a name. “This is the officer I talked to in Florida. Now, we have to go. Thank you.”
“He spared Joe Junior and stopped in the middle of his revenge against the woman he thought was Laura -Dougherty,” she said when they were outside.
“Because he realized he had the wrong woman. It makes sense. Nice job.”
“Would have been nicer if I’d figured it out sooner.” She stopped at her car where the white cat lay curled on her seat. “Now we have to find a list of all the kids Penny Hill placed with the Doughertys.”
“And figure out which kid is connected to White.”
“Or whatever his name is. Move over, Percy.” She got in, shoved the cat to the passenger seat. “But first, I have to talk to Burnette.”
“I’ll follow you there.”
Friday, December 1, 6:05 A.M.
Mia was waiting at the curb. “The house is dark,” he said. “They’re probably asleep.”
Mia turned only her head, leveled him a sober look. “Reed, he’s going to bury his daughter today. Burnette thinks he’s responsible. If it were Beth... Could you sleep?”
Harshly he cleared his throat. “No. I couldn’t.” They walked up the sidewalk to the door where the picture of the turkey still hung. Such a small thing, but it made his chest hurt. Time had stood still for this family. For a week, a father had lived with the knowledge that he’d been a tool in his child’s brutal murder. If it had been Beth...
Mia knocked. The door opened to Roger Burnette, his face haggard and worn.
“Can we come in?” Mia asked and he nodded wordlessly and led them inside.
In the living room, Burnette stopped with his back to them and Reed couldn’t help noticing that the room which had been so neat and tidy before now... was not. Mostly there was clutter. But in one wall there was a hole, waist-high and fist-sized and Reed could picture a father tormented by grief and rage and guilt putting it there.
Burnette slowly turned. “You caught him.” It was barely a murmur.
Mia shook her head. “Not yet.”
Burnette’s chin lifted, eyes cold. “Then why are you here?”
Mia met the man’s eyes without wavering. “We found out tonight that the real target at the Doughertys’ house was the previous homeowners. Joe Dougherty’s parents.” She paused, let it sink in. “Not Caitlin. And not you.”
For a moment Burnette stood, rigid and unmoving. Then he nodded. “Thank you.”
She swallowed. “Try to sleep now, sir. We’ll see ourselves out.”
They’d turned for the door when Reed heard the first sob. More like the cry of a wounded animal than a man. But it wasn’t the expression on Burnette’s face that stabbed Reed’s heart the deepest. It was the expression on Mia’s. A naked, desperate longing that before last night Reed would not have understood.
Roger Burnette had loved his child. Bobby Mitchell had not.
Shaken, Reed took her arm and gently pulled. “Let’s go,” he murmured.
“Detective.”
Drawing a deep, shuddering breath, Mia turned back. “Sir?”
“I’m sorry, Detective. I was wrong.”
Reed frowned, but Mia seemed to know what he meant. “It’s all right,” she said.
“No, it’s not. I said some terrible things. You are a good cop. Everyone says so. Your father would have been very proud and I was out of line to say anything different.”
The nod she gave Burnette was harsh. “Thank you, sir.”
Under Reed’s hand, she trembled violently. “We’ll be going now,” Reed said. “Again, our condolences.” He waited until they stood at the curb. “What was that?”
She wouldn’t look at him. “He came by last night. After you left. He was not pleased that we had not caught the man who mutilated and killed his child.”
Fury took him by surprise. “The bruise on your arm?”
“It was nothing. He’s a grief-stricken father.”
“That didn’t give him the right to put his hands on you.” Reed’s own hands clenched.
“No, it didn’t.” She started walking. “But at least he cared.”
“And your father wouldn’t have. I’m sorry, Mia.”
Her hand faltered on the car door. “Yeah. Well.” She sniffed at her sleeve. “I smell like a stale fireplace. I’m going back to Lauren’s for a shower before morning meeting. Do you think she’d mind if I brought Percy with me? He’s had kind of a hard week.”
The subject of Bobby Mitchell was closed. For now. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind at all.”
“Fine. I’ll meet you at Spinnelli’s at eight.”
He stood frowning as she drove away. She’d pulled away and he didn’t want to admit that it stung. But it did. This, he supposed, was the flip side to no-strings. He could walk away when he wanted to. So could she.
It was what he wanted. What she’d said she needed. Now he had to wonder if either of them truly knew what they were doing.
Friday, December 1, 7:10 A.M.
“There,” Mia muttered as she poured kitty litter into the plastic box as Percy watched. “Don’t say I never bought you anything.” She opened a can of cat food and dumped it in the bowl that said cat she’d thrown in the Wal-Mart cart on impulse on her way back to Lauren’s. She put the bowl on the floor and sat as Percy chowed down.
“I’m an idiot,” she murmured aloud to no one at all, cringing as she thought of all she’d told Reed last night. But in his arms it had seemed a natural thing to do. He was a good listener and... hell. She’d become a typical female, spilling her guts in pillow talk after mind-blowing sex. She rolled her eyes, mortified now.
“I’m an idiot.” She’d laid herself bare to a man who’d been honest enough to say he only wanted her for mind-blowing sex. This morning, standing in Burnette’s living room, Reed Solliday had seen and understood way too much. And he’d pitied her.
The thought rankled, burned deep. She’d wanted him on equal terms. Sex. No strings. Pity completely fucked that up.
She looked around Lauren’s kitchen. She didn’t belong here. That he’d manipulated her into coming here proved they’d never really been on equal terms. She should just pack her bag and leave. She eyed the cat. Maybe Dana would take him.
Dana owed her that much, with all that damn talk of hamburger and having it all.
She stood up. Dana would take the damn cat. Then tomorrow she’d find a new place. Give Lauren back her house. And as for Solliday... She had to be honest. No need to throw out the baby with the bathwater. She still wanted mind-blowing sex. So first, she had to get them back on equal terms. No more pillow talk. No more pity.
Friday, December 1, 8:10 A.M.
“Well, at least we finally have the connection,” Spinnelli said grimly.
“By noon we should have a list of names,” Mia said from the opposite end of the table, where she’d very deliberately placed herself. “Social Services is going through all the files from the period when the older Doughertys were foster parents.”
“Before we only took Penny Hill’s files for the last two years,” Reed added, trying not to focus on the fact that she hadn’t looked at him once. “We never would have found them listed. Once we get names, we can start matching them to his picture.”
Spinnelli went to the whiteboard. “Okay, we’ve got some irons in the fire now. I want to know who the hell this guy really is and where he lives.” He was making notes on the board as he spoke. “I want to tie him to the first two fires with something more than access to the plastic eggs and I want to know why the hell he’s doing all this.
“Murphy, you and Aidan find out where he lives. Continue showing the teacher’s picture in the area where we found the car he used to get away from Brooke Adler’s. Find somebody who knows this guy outside of Hope Center. Jack, have we found anything physical tying him to either the Doughertys’ house or Penny Hill’s house?”
“There’s nothing left in the houses that we haven’t sifted through,” Jack said.
“We never found Penny Hill’s car,” Reed said. “Maybe he left something there.”
“Penny’s boss gave us a list of the gifts she got at the retirement party.” Mia rubbed the back of her neck wearily. “If somebody found her car, they may have hocked them.”
“I’ll have someone check the pawnshops,” Spinnelli said. “Mia, anything from Atlantic City PD?”
“Not yet. I’ll call them to see if they found either of our guys on their tapes.” She squinted at the board. “We’re -missing something. We need to know why he’s doing this but also why
now
? Miles said that something triggered this to happen
now.
”
“What do you recommend?” Spinnelli asked.
“I dunno. But I still get a very strange feeling from that school. He taught for six months, then all of a sudden goes on an arson and murder spree. Why?”
“You talked to the teachers about Brooke,” Spinnelli said. “Ask them about White.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“I want to know how he knew where to find the Doughertys last night,” Reed said. “They checked into the Beacon Inn on Tuesday. Judith Blennard said they came to her house Wednesday afternoon. He found them Thursday night. He couldn’t have been waiting all day for them to leave because he was at Hope Center teaching.”
“The hotel must have told him,” Mia said. “We should go by on our way to Hope.”
“Aidan, you take Atlantic City PD. Mia and Reed will cover the hotel and the school.”
Aidan wrote it in his own little book. “Will do.”
“Anything else?” Spinnelli asked.
“Caitlin Burnette’s funeral is at ten,” Mia said. “Do you think he’ll go? Should we?”
“I’ll handle that,” Spinnelli said. “Jack’s got video surveillance planned and I’ll be in the congregation. I honestly don’t think he’ll be there. Caitlin was an accident, but I’ll watch. You’re all dismissed. Call me with any news. I have a press conference at two this afternoon and I’d like to look reasonably capable. Mia, stay for a minute.”
Reed waited outside the door, but he could still hear.
“Kelsey got moved at oh-seven-hundred this morning. She’s safe.”
Reed heard her tired sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Oh, and Mia, try to catch a few hours’ sleep. You look terrible.”
Her chuckle was wry. “Thank you.”
Reed fell into step alongside her when she came through the door. “I think you look pretty damn good,” he murmured.
He’d hoped she’d laugh, but the look she sent him was almost grave and sent a sudden shaft of panic through his heart. It was the first time she’d really looked at him since leaving Burnette’s house. “Thank you,” she said quietly.
He said nothing until they were sitting inside the SUV. “What’s wrong?”
“Just tired. I have to make some time to go apartment hunting tomorrow.”
He felt the breath leave his lungs. “What?”
She smiled at him, but it was cool. “I never expected to put Lauren out for more than a night or two. Reed, staying at your place was temporary. We both knew that.”