Heinous (14 page)

Fifth Avenue, Redmont Hotel, 11:20 a.m.

A Birmingham landmark since the early 1920s, the Redmont Hotel had the customary tales of hauntings and mysterious deaths. The classic brick and terra cotta building stood thirteen floors high and sat at the corner of two of downtown’s busiest streets.

Jess had only been inside once. At seventeen she’d come with Lil to pick up Wanda. They hadn’t seen their aunt in years, but the police had called and said someone had to come pick her up. Wanda had been staying with some guy who’d left her at the hotel wasted on drugs and with two days’ rent due. Lil had been so embarrassed. Pooling every nickel they possessed it still wasn’t enough to pay the hotel bill. Jess had borrowed the money from her new boyfriend, Dan Burnett. She hadn’t told him what she needed the money for and he hadn’t asked. When the bill was paid, Wanda had refused to leave the room. She’d been sure her man was coming back. Jess had called Buddy then. He’d sweet-talked Wanda from the room.

Apparently, Jess had completely forgotten the unpleasant episode. No matter that twenty-five years had passed, as soon as she saw the building with its name standing high atop it like a southern version of the Hollywood sign, Jess remembered.

Lieutenant Hayes appeared on the sidewalk near her door, and Jess realized she was still sitting in the car.

Meredith Dority was dead.
Murdered
. Jess hated what she knew Dan was going through right now. Unable to reach him on his cell, she had called the office. His secretary explained that he was in a closed door meeting with Chief Black. Whether the meeting was about Dority or not, Jess doubted anything good for Dan would come of it.

She cleared her head and stepped from the car. She spotted Harper’s SUV. No other official vehicles had arrived. At the front entrance, Jess hesitated and turned back to the street. That tingly sensation that warned someone was watching her scaled her spine.

As if the dark-haired man in the picture Maddie had drawn had suddenly come to life, a black Infiniti with heavily tinted windows cruised down Fifth Avenue. Jess didn’t need to see the driver, she instinctively knew it was him.

For one instant, she gauged the distance between her and Hayes’s car. Could they reach his vehicle in time to follow the Infiniti?

The Infiniti rocketed forward as if she had telegraphed the thought to the driver. Darting between the other cars, the driver made a hard right on Second Avenue and disappeared.

He was watching her again. It was possible he’d never stopped. Either way, he wanted her to know he was close. Gant was right. Spears was feeling the pressure to advance to the finale. Though no one had cornered him, the combined efforts of the Task Force were slowly boxing him in. His time was running out.

He’s coming for you, Jessie Lee!
Fear shivered through her. She shook it off and strode determinedly toward the hotel entrance.

She might be his end game, but she also intended to be the end of him.

The marble-floored lobby with its soaring ceiling and glittering chandelier led to the elevator. The wait for a car to arrive was long enough for Jess to toy with the idea of climbing six flights of stairs. Thankfully, the elevator doors opened before she made the mistake of suggesting the idea to Hayes. As comfortable as her new shoes were, the idea of that many stairs was not appealing.

On the sixth floor, a narrow carpeted hallway led to room 624. Harper waited at the door. “Good morning, Chief.” He glanced at Hayes. “Detective Wells is inside.”

“Crime scene techs on the way?” Jess looked beyond Harper through the open door. The room was a wreck. Her heart rate picked up its pace as she slipped on shoe covers.

“No, ma’am. I thought I’d wait and see how you wanted me to handle the request considering Agent Gant removed our team from the investigation.”

Jess tugged on a pair of gloves. “We’ll take care of that in a bit, Sergeant. Let’s see what we have here first.”

She entered the hotel room and her lungs were suddenly unable to fill with air. Photos of Jess and handwritten pages were posted on every available inch of wall space. On each page, lines were highlighted in yellow. Scattered on the bed and desk were newspapers—old newspapers. Articles and headlines were circled in red.

In the middle of the room, Jess hesitated. A newspaper photo of her hung above the desk. Surrounding the photo were dozens of clippings about Spears and the other cases she had worked since returning to Birmingham. An iPad lay on the desk. The battery was dead.

“Chief, I think these handwritten pages are from a diary or journal.”

Jess dragged her attention from the newspaper clipping to Lori. “Henshaw’s?”

“I think,” Lori said tentatively, “they were written by your mother. Look at this page.”

Pulse accelerating, Jess moved to the wall and studied the first of dozens of pages. She didn’t recognize the handwriting, yet her heart seemed to stumble as she read the words.

Lee didn’t come home this week. I’m worried. I watch my girls sleep and I fear what the future holds for them. Please, God, help us.

A cold, cold darkness slid through Jess. She reached out, touched the yellowed pages. “Where is...” She cleared the emotion from her throat and turned to Lori. “Where is Officer Cook?”

Lori glanced at the door. “He’s taking the detective’s exam today.”

That news shook Jess from the daze she’d fallen into. “Well... good.” She had no idea why she didn’t know about that, but she was glad for Cook. Strange that he hadn’t asked for her approval first. “Where are Harper and—?”

“Right here, Chief.” Harper strode in from the corridor, the lieutenant on his heels.

Jess hadn’t heard any raised voices, but she had the distinct impression the two had exchanged unfriendly words. “Sergeant, plug in that iPad and see if the reverend left us anything there.” She shifted her attention to Hayes. “Lieutenant, bring in the box of photos I picked up this morning.” She turned back to Lori. “Some of the family photos I picked up from my aunt have dates written on the back by my mother. We can compare the writing on those to these pages.”

“Sergeant, see if Ricky Vernon can lend us a hand ASAP.” Vernon was an evidence tech who had a love for all things electronic. He’d helped Jess before and he was damned good at his job. If there was something on that iPad, he would find it.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Jess turned back to Lori. “I’d like photos of all this. I want everything documented by SPU in addition to the documenting the forensic techs will do.”

“On it.”

Jess moved around the room and studied page after page from the diary apparently kept by her mother. Her heart pounded so fast it threatened to burst. She could hardly breathe. She kept wishing Lil were here. She should see this at some point. Why hadn’t they known their mother kept a journal?

A moment was required for her to put aside her emotions and to look at the scene like a cop. The room was in disarray. The reverend, presumably, had written page after page of notes. Most of the pages repeated what he’d found in the journal or simply spouted nonsensical lines. His handwriting had grown increasingly frantic. Numerous references to the Brownfield family and to Spears had been made. Pages from the Bible had been removed and taped to the wall as well. Whatever was going on in Henshaw’s mind, either he’d started to lose control or he’d been afraid.

“Vernon is on the way,” Harper said as he joined her.

“Did you speak to the hotel manager?” Reverend Henshaw had been MIA for two months. It looked as if he’d been here most of that time.

“I did. Henshaw checked in on July fifteenth. He refused to allow housekeeping in the room. This morning the housekeeper came in anyway. She saw all this and called the manager. One look at the room and he realized the murdered reverend he’d read about in the paper was the man who’d rented this room. He called BPD. Dispatch sent the call our way.”

“Have you discovered any documented history of mental illness?”

“No, ma’am. Henshaw underwent a yearly physical with the same doc for the past thirty years. No history of illness, physical or mental. The nurse I spoke with said the man never got sick.”

Jess moved back to the photo and articles about her work with the BPD. “If he had something to tell me, why didn’t he contact me?”

“Maybe he was searching for an answer before he made contact,” Harper suggested.

“Maybe.” Jess wished she could have spoken to him. If he knew she was back in town, why didn’t he talk to her? Why hadn’t he contacted Lil in all these years? Where had this man of God been when two young girls lost their parents and had no decent place to go? Anger lashed through Jess.
Nowhere to be found, that’s where
.

Hayes returned with the shoebox of photos. Jess looked through the photos until she found several with handwritten dates on the back. She passed one to Harper and one to Lori.

Jess went to one of the pages she recalled being dated June fourteenth. A photo from the shoebox carried the date January sixteenth. The j’s were exactly the same as were the u’s. Jess reminded herself to breathe. The dates were definitely written by the same person.

“What’s going on here?”

Jess cringed at the sound of Black’s voice. She squared her shoulders and prepared for battle. “Stop right there, Chief, this is a crime scene. If you’re coming in you need to take the necessary precautions.”

Fury tightened the man’s face. “I’ve attempted to reach you several times, Chief Harris. I’d like to speak with you in private.”

Jess produced a smile. “Of course.” She was prepared for this conversation. She didn’t bother closing the door as she joined Black in the corridor. She wanted her team to hear this. “What do you need? I’m a little busy here.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, Harris, but it’s my understanding you and your team have been taken off the Spears investigation by Agent Gant.”

“That’s true,” Jess agreed.

He frowned. “Then, why are you here? The Spears investigation encompasses the Henshaw murder as well as the Brownfield murders.”

“Oh.” Jess laughed. “I’m sorry. I assumed you understood.” She reached into her bag and removed the SPU handbook—the very one Black helped compose. She thrust it at him. “Section One, paragraph one. The newly formed Special Problems Unit operates under the authority of the Birmingham Police Department
and
the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Department,
equally
. Sheriff Griggs has reopened the cold case involving Lee and Helen Harris, former residents of his county, and he assigned that case to SPU. Since the Henshaw case is related, I’m simply doing my job.”

Black smiled patiently. “I’m certain a quick phone call to Sheriff Griggs will clear up the confusion. He must be unaware of Gant’s orders and of your connection to the Harrises.”

Jess was the one smiling this time. “Why don’t I clear up the confusion for you, Chief. The Bureau has no jurisdiction on this cold case unless local law enforcement requests assistance or relinquishes control, Sheriff Griggs isn’t doing either, and he is well aware of my personal connection. Now, if we have that all cleared up, I have work to do.”

“You’re making a mistake, Harris,” Black warned. “Your every misstep reflects poorly on Chief Burnett. Are you intent on ruining him?”

“Frankly, I believe you’re doing that all by yourself, Chief Black. Do you really want to move up the food chain so badly?”

The words hit their mark. Black was livid. Just when she felt certain he would blast her, he flinched, then reached into his pocket and withdrew his cell phone. “Black.”

Jess plucked the handbook from his grasp and tucked it into her bag. He could pull his own copy. A quick phone call to Sheriff Griggs had taken care of her problem with Gant. Griggs was more than happy to help and assured Jess he’d back her up whenever she needed him.

“When?”

The urgency in that solitary word snapped Jess back to attention.

“Issue BOLOs immediately. I’ll be right there.” Black shoved his phone into his pocket. “If you had anything to do with this, Harris, I will see that you are prosecuted under every applicable federal and state law.”

“Everything all right out here, Chief?”

Jess waved Hayes off. “What’re you talking about, Black?”

“That was Roark. Amanda Brownfield walked out of the hospital less than twenty minutes after being visited by Buddy Corlew.”

For heaven’s sake! What was Buddy thinking? Jess abandoned that worry for an even bigger one. “I should warn Nicole Green. Maddie may be in danger.”

“Are you saying you had nothing to do with this?” Black demanded.

“Amanda Brownfield is a violent psychopath. A serial killer. Why would I want her running around free?”

“I warned you that Buddy Corlew couldn’t be trusted. He won’t ever see the light of day again after this.”

Jess held back the frosty retort she wanted to make as Black rushed away. When the elevator doors opened, Ricky Vernon exited. Black glared at him before boarding. Before Vernon could ask any questions, Harper ushered him into Henshaw’s room. Jess spoke to Nicole Green, and then she called Buddy to find out what in the world had happened. She felt reasonably confident he was not responsible for Amanda’s escape. Not unless he had no other recourse. Whatever the case,
if
he was involved, he had better have one hell of a good explanation.

His line went straight to voicemail. “Dammit, Buddy. Where are you? Call me the instant you listen to this message.”

Jess should call Lil and touch base with her surveillance detail.

Lori joined her in the corridor. “I spoke to your sister’s surveillance detail. I’ve put them on alert regarding Brownfield’s escape.”

“Thanks. I was about to do that. I should call Lil and explain.”

“I can hang out here while you step away if you’d like to have some privacy.” Lori gestured to the end of the hall and the window there.

“I’ll only be a minute,” Jess promised.

“Take your time.” Lori squeezed her arm.