On a Killer's Trail (9 page)

Neil nodded. “I can’t let you put it in print that we think Burton is mixed up in this. If he’s out there, we don’t want him to know we consider him a murder suspect.”

“That’s what I figured.”

“But a lot can change by Monday.” Neil started his truck.

On Sunday, Neil again sat with Kate in church. She noticed the looks other women sent their way. She found it mildly amusing and wondered if she was dashing half the female parishioners’ hopes.

Adrienne had stayed home with the baby, but extended a lunch invitation to Neil through Connor. Kate realized she was becoming very comfortable around Neil again, and she still wasn’t sure that was a good thing. She still wanted to focus on her career. Even if Neil’s reformation was genuine, did she want to get serious about a police detective? Neil was as passionate about his work as she was hers. She had to admit, the attraction was still there. Was his faith real? Would he make a good husband and father? And did she want a husband and potential father for her children at this stage in her life? She hadn’t settled those questions yet. Seeing him hold Matthew on his lap during the sermon didn’t help matters. He looked perfectly at ease, and Matthew snuggled into the crook of his arm as readily as he did with Connor. Neil looked…paternal…confident…content…great.

Adrienne put Matthew and Hailey down for a nap after lunch, and Connor stretched out on the living room sofa with the Sunday paper. Kate took Neil into the study and pulled up the Animal Protection Society’s Web site on Adrienne’s computer.

“Here’s a picture and profile of Jim Burton. I’ll print it for you.”

Neil studied Burton’s thin face: a rather unremarkable man in his middle forties, with light, thinning hair, blue eyes and glasses.

“Family man,” Neil mused as he skimmed the bio. “Wife, Claire, and three children, ages twenty-two, nineteen and fifteen. Came here three years ago from New Jersey, where he’d run a nonprofit organization for two years. Before that he was a management consultant.” He looked up at Kate. “Why did he take off last Friday? Why didn’t he wait another week or two until after the big fund-raiser?”

“Maybe he did intend to wait, but some old people who hung around the shelter got wise to his scheme,” said Kate.

“Edna and Ted. You may be right.”

Kate leaned back in her chair and watched him. “Do you find weekends annoying?”

Neil looked up at her, his dark eyes wide with curiosity. “I love weekends.”

“Sometimes I wish I could work every day.”

His lips skewed a little. “I don’t know, Kate. That can be dangerous. You need to relax, you know.”

“I guess.”

“You’re excited about your new job. After a while, the novelty will wear off. I know sometimes it’s hard to leave it at the office. Like this case we’re working on. It started on a weekend—and Christmas Day, to boot—and we seem to keep learning stuff on weekends. But you can’t push yourself all the time.”

Kate wondered about that. It was true that she wanted more than anything right now to excel at her job. Her early successes had fanned the flames of that desire. She knew that no reporter could have a front-page story every day. Yet, if she were totally honest, she wanted that. She squeezed her lips together, thinking about it. “Do you think I’m selfish?”

Neil raised his head and looked at her keenly. “Well…aren’t we all? Especially at—what, twenty-three?”

“Twenty-four,” Kate replied. “I’m wondering how other people see me.”

“I can tell you that. They see that you’re smart, savvy, good-looking and you have a great job that you’re good at. I’m sure a lot of people would say you’ve got it all together.”

“That’s what I want them to think.”

“Don’t you feel that way inside?”

She looked down at her hands. “Not really. I’m scared to death every day that I can’t live up to what I did last week. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I love it that the boss is happy with my work and everyone at the office is congratulating me and telling me what a great reporter I am. But the truth is, I was in the right place at the right time. And if I weren’t a detective captain’s sister-in-law, I wouldn’t have had the success I’ve enjoyed the past eight days.”

Neil nodded. “I can understand that. People have expectations that you’re afraid you’ll never meet. You make one clever move and they think you’re a genius. You’re born with good looks, and they assume you’re a social mastermind.” He added quickly, “Oh, not you. I’m talking about myself. But you must have noticed how that works. The cute little girls get away with a whole lot more than the ones who aren’t as cute. I know I was spoiled—the oldest, the only boy. And now I’m twenty-eight, and I know my folks are disappointed.”

“How are they disappointed in you?” Kate asked. His words surprised her, but she could tell he was serious about wanting to please his parents.

Neil sighed and shook his head slightly. “I should be married and own a house and have two-point-five kids by now. I should be on a fast track to becoming police chief—”

“Aren’t you?” Kate asked.

He smiled at that. “And my faith. My parents were stunned when I became a Christian. That is—when I accepted what Christ did on the cross. They think all Alexanders are Christians because they’re ‘good people.’ But I wasn’t, and I don’t think they are, either. They get all defensive when I bring it up, and
it’s gotten so that if I even mention Christ now, they shut down on me.”

“Wow.” Kate sat still. Her own immediate family members were all believers. Neil must agonize over his loved ones.

After half a minute of silence, he said, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to depress you.”

“That’s okay. I think the Lord wanted me to hear that. Neil, I’ve been so wrapped up in this job, I haven’t been thinking about other people. I’ve told myself it was only to give my employer what he’s paying for, and to do my best—you know, work ethic and all that. But…” She didn’t like what she felt at that moment. Had she become a self-absorbed blob of ambition? When was the last time she’d shared her faith with another person?

“Tell you what…” Neil reached over and took her hand in his. “Let’s forget about the murders and my folks and the newspaper for today. When Matthew gets up from his nap, let’s take him sledding in the park.”

As she watched him, a spark lit in Kate’s heart. His animation and boyish enthusiasm caught hold of her. “You have a sled?”

“No, but Connor and Adrienne have a toboggan.”

“That sounds great. And, Neil?” Kate’s eyes locked with his. “Thank you.”

Joey Bolduc staggered off the elevator and into the Priority Unit Monday morning. “Man, this better be good, calling me in an hour early.”

“Sit down, Joey. New Year’s Day was Saturday,” Connor said mildly.

“Yeah, well, I missed New Year’s Eve thanks to this lousy case, so Roxanne and I made up for it last night.” He flopped down in the chair Neil pulled over from Tony’s desk. “What do you need?”

“Where’s Burton?” Neil asked.

“Not in Maine.”

“How do you know?”

“Come on, he stole more than a mil. His wife is distraught. She can’t believe he ran out on her and the kids.”

Neil raised his hands in exasperation. “Did you find out anything at all this weekend? Did he take a plane?”

“Not under his own name. Why?”

Neil slowly laid out the convoluted path of the Priority Unit’s investigations into the Riley and Hepburn murders.

“So you’re thinking Burton had something to do with these two kitten huggers being whacked?” Joey asked.

“Makes sense to me,” said Neil. “We’re thinking that maybe one or both of the victims knew something about his plans. If Burton found out they knew, he may have pushed up his timetable a little. There was going to be a big fund-raising event at the shelter on January fourteenth. If he’d waited that long, he might have gotten away with a lot more.”

“But he didn’t. He acted on New Year’s Eve,” said Joey.

“Correction,” Neil said. “He started acting on Christmas Day.”

“Meaning?”

“Burton planned to liquidate the building fund and take it along with the receipts from the big Fur Ball on the fourteenth. Probably he was planning to abscond with the money that night.”

“Abscond?” asked Joey.

“Look it up,” said Connor. He winked at Neil.

Neil continued. “But then, along about Christmas Eve, he realized someone was onto his plans. Two old people. He could either shut them up or take off earlier than planned. He chose to shut them up that weekend. It was worth another quarter of a mil if he waited for the proceeds from the ball.”

Joey seemed to try hard to make his brain function. “So he bumped off your two victims….”

“Yep,” Neil said.

“And took a potshot at a cat.”

Neil gritted his teeth. That didn’t fit in with his scenario. He shrugged. “Well, anyway, with the two witnesses out of the way,
he thought he’d be safe until the Fur Ball. But then something else made him panic. He had to make his move early or never. So he did it. He had the bank transfer funds to another bank, and then had that one transfer them somewhere offshore. And he took off Friday.”

“Thursday,” said Joey. “His wife reported him missing Friday, but she said he didn’t come home Thursday. And the people at the shelter said he left there at noon Thursday and didn’t come back.”

“So what have you and Emily been doing to try to find him?” Connor asked.

“Checking with all his friends and associates, checking transportation outlets.”

“His car isn’t missing?” Neil asked.

“No, it was found in the parking lot at the restaurant he lunched at on Thursday.”

“So you know where he ate lunch?”

“Well, none of the staff actually remembers him eating there, but they were very busy.”

Neil said, “You’d think the waitress would remember if you showed her his picture.”

“Nobody remembered,” said Joey.

“So maybe he just ditched his car there and hopped a cab to…where?” Neil asked.

“We’ve checked all the cab companies in town,” said Joey. “Nothing. Ditto the airport and bus station.”

Connor turned his chair a little and tapped his fingers on his desk. “Someone picked him up.”

“Does this guy have a girlfriend?” Neil asked.

“No, he’s married.”

“I know, I know. But does he have a girlfriend?”

Joey looked blank.

“Find out,” said Connor. “Ask his wife—”

“You think his wife would know?” Joey asked, incredulous.

“Stranger things have happened. Ask his wife, all the people
at the shelter, the guys he had two-martini lunches with, the Rotarians and the Lions.”

“Rotarians?”

“He belonged to the Rotary and the Lions Club,” Connor said. “Haven’t you done a profile on this guy? You should have done a superdeluxe background check.”

Joey looked embarrassed. “We—I figured he got away and there wasn’t any point in doing all that. I put out an alert on the national database, but I really don’t expect to hear anything.”

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong,” said Connor. “We are going to find this guy.” He picked up his telephone receiver and punched in an extension number. “Ron? Connor Larson. I learned this weekend that my two homicides are connected to the animal shelter embezzlement case. Detective Bolduc is telling me they have no leads on this Burton who took the money. I’d like my unit to take a crack at it. Would you be okay with my asking the chief to transfer the Burton case to Priority? I think we can do something with it.” He listened for a minute, then said, “Yeah, well, I’m positive. Both our victims volunteered at the shelter. I think they were onto Burton, and he went after them. Uh-huh. Yes, I do. Okay.”

He hung up and dialed again. Neil just sat and watched him in action.

“Chief? Good morning!” Connor quickly briefed Mike on his unit’s discoveries and his conversation with Ron Legere, the detective sergeant.

From the corner of his eye, Neil could see that Joey was sweating it, but trying to act nonchalant.

Connor hung up smiling. “Joey,” he said thoughtfully, “you got a break. The Burton case is now ours. You don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

“Good riddance.” Joey stood up. “Don’t know why you’re so happy about it. They’re not going to send you to the Bahamas to find that guy.” He sauntered to the elevator and punched in the security code.

“What now?” Neil asked.

“I’m headed to church to thank the Lord for answering our prayers and giving us a break. We’re going to get this guy.”

“Let’s be thankful you didn’t pick Joey for the Priority Unit, too,” Neil said with a grin, and the two men headed out of the station.

S
ergeant Legere gave the Priority Unit the records his men had collected on the embezzlement case. Neil compiled a thick folder containing responses to the sketch of the cat shooter.

“Forty-seven people have called in since the sketch was released,” he said.

“Any duplicates?” Connor asked.

“A few.”

Neil skimmed each report and made a list of the callers and the person each caller thought the sketch looked like. Number twelve was Stephen Burton.

“Not our guy. Ours is James Burton—same last name.” He dog-eared the corner of the report.

“Doesn’t James Burton have a son named Stephen?” Connor asked, reaching for a file folder.

Number twenty was also Stephen Burton. In all they came up with four Stephen Burtons and two Eric Robertses. The rest were all different.

“Amazing how people can think a drawing looks like over forty different guys.”

“Get photos from DMV,” Connor replied.

On his computer Neil went to the state’s Department of Motor Vehicles link and searched for a driver’s license. He came up with seven Stephen Burtons in the state. One lived at Jim Burton’s address. He was nineteen years old.

Neil squinted at the screen. “He looks sort of like the sketch. Want to go for a ride, Connor?”

When they arrived at the Burton residence Claire Burton, Jim’s wife, answered the door.

“I thought Detectives Bolduc and Rood were investigating,” she said.

“They were, ma’am,” said Connor, “but now the case has been transferred to the Priority Unit.”

“Well, good. I hope you’ll listen to me.” She opened the door wide.

“Of course, ma’am. What would you like to tell me?”

“That Jim didn’t steal that money. He wouldn’t.” She closed the door and faced them. “We were very close, and I can tell you, he’s not like that.”

“Well, it’s been confirmed that he emptied the shelter’s bank accounts Thursday morning, ma’am. The bank had security videotapes of him withdrawing the money, and a copy of his written request for a transfer of funds from the account.”

“That may be. He might have been ready to start paying for the construction on the new building.”

“But he and the money are gone, Mrs. Burton.”

“So somebody found out how much money he was carrying and stole it from him.”

Connor sighed. “Ma’am, he didn’t have the money in cash. It was transferred electronically to another bank. We have people trying to trace it and find out the final destination, but we’re pretty sure it’s not in the U.S. And he abandoned his car at a restaurant.”

“What if that wasn’t his choice?”

“You think someone kidnapped him and forced him to raid the bank accounts?”

“It’s a theory.” She folded her arms across her chest and raised her chin.

“Did he have a passport?” Connor asked.

“Yes. Detective Bolduc took it.”

“So he had a passport, but he left it here?” Connor was skeptical.

“Yes. He wasn’t trying to leave the country, I’m telling you.”

“He might have had false ID.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Well, Mrs. Burton, this isn’t really what we came to talk to you about,” said Connor.

“What did you come for?”

“Did your husband own a gun?”

She looked startled. “Yes. A pistol.”

“How long did he have it?”

“He bought it shortly after we moved up here from New Jersey. There had been several break-ins in the neighborhood.”

“Where did he keep it?”

“I’m not sure. In his desk, I think.”

“May we take a look?”

“Yes, I guess so.”

Connor kept talking to her while Neil searched Burton’s desk. There was no gun, but he did find a folder of receipts, and in it, among about a hundred other slips of paper, was a handwritten receipt for a .22 handgun, and it had the serial number on it. Neil took that to Connor and asked Mrs. Burton if he could go through her husband’s dresser and closet. On the top shelf of the closet, he found a box and a half of .22 rimfire ammo, but no gun. He picked up the boxes with his handkerchief and took them out to the living room.

Connor was looking at family pictures and saying, “So this is Linda, and these are Sean and Steve?”

“That’s right. Linda’s married and lives down in New Jersey. She has a little girl.”

“And the boys live at home?”

“Yes.”

He looked up, and Neil held up the ammunition. Connor came over and looked at it. “No weapon?”

“Nope.”

“Keep the boxes. We’ll want to dust them for prints.” He turned to Claire Burton. She was pouring herself a glass of gin.
“Ma’am, Detective Alexander has found some ammunition for your husband’s gun, but not the gun. Could we make a more thorough search for it?”

“Well, I…I guess so. Do you think he took it with him?”

“Actually, I don’t,” said Connor, “but we have to be sure it’s not in the house.”

“All right.”

“Mrs. Burton, where are the boys now?” he asked.

“Sean is in his room, I think, and Steve is at his girlfriend’s.”

“He’s the older one.”

“Yes, he’s nineteen.” She looked scared now. “Is something wrong?”

“We just need to look for the gun now.”

Neil made a careful search with Connor working beside him while Mrs. Burton sat in the kitchen drinking gin.

They entered the older boy’s room. There were clothes and books and magazines everywhere, and assorted other junk. Neil pulled the bed apart, then dove into the closet. It was pretty messy. Connor systematically piled up all the things on the floor, then went through the dresser.

“No contraband but cigarettes,” he said.

“Connor.” At the bottom of the basket of dirty laundry, Neil had found a leather holster. It was empty.

“Bag it.”

The fifteen-year-old was standing in the doorway. “Are you guys cops?”

“Yes, I’m Detective Alexander. You must be Sean.”

“Yeah, what are you doing?”

“Your mother gave us permission to search the house,” Neil said.

“Cool. Want to search my room?”

Neil handed the evidence bag to Connor. “Sure, Sean. What should I look for?”

He laughed a little and walked across the hall with Neil, who opened his dresser drawers, looked under the bed and opened the closet door.

“Aren’t you going to look under the mattress?” Sean asked.

Neil lifted one corner. “What’s this?”

“My journal. I hide it there so my mother won’t find it.”

“First place she’d look,” Neil said. “Okay, kid, you’re clean. Do you know where your father kept his gun?”

“Sure, in his closet.”

“Did you ever use it?”

“No, he told me never to even think about touching it.”

“Did you?”

“No, I never did. Honest.”

Neil eyed him thoughtfully. “How about your brother?”

“Steve? I don’t think so.” Sean looked as if he might swear or cry any second. “Is my dad really in South America?”

“I don’t know. We’ll do our best to find him.”

“Detective Bolduc said we’d never see him again,” Sean said. “He doesn’t want to be found.”

“What do you think?”

Sean turned away. “My mom says somebody kidnapped him or—or killed him.” He swung around and faced Neil. “Do you think he’s alive?”

That one was easy. Neil looked the kid straight in the eye. “I do. I really do.”

Kate prayed all the way to the newspaper office that morning. She still felt the urge to perform well, but that was now tempered with a strong, steady desire to please God.

Lord, show me what You want me to work on today. If it’s a boring zoning board meeting, I’ll cover it gladly as the task You’ve given me.

The answer to her prayer was unmistakable. A sticky note on her monitor read “Please come to my office as soon as you arrive. John C.”

She put her coat and purse away and walked with trepidation down the hall to the city editor’s office.

“Kate, I’m glad you’re here. I expect you’re still working on
the murder stories, but the news on those has slowed down a lot, hasn’t it?”

“Actually, my sources feel things may be breaking soon. But if there’s something else you need me to work on…”

“Barry Patterson went skiing last weekend, and he broke his leg. Compound fracture.”

Kate frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“You and me both. His doctor says he’ll be out at least six weeks. And this Animal Protection Society story is huge. I thought maybe I’d put you on it. The intern might be able to handle Barry’s usual school board beat, but…”

She couldn’t help grinning. “Oh, thank you, Mr. Cleeves. There’s no story I’d rather pick up.”

She dashed back to her desk and called the police station. After she’d waited a couple of minutes, the dispatcher transferred her call to the detectives’ unit.

“Detective Bolduc,” said a sleepy voice. “How may I help you?”

“This is Kate Richards with the
Press Herald
. I’d like to talk to you about the embezzlement case at the animal shelter.”

“Can’t.”

“I…” Kate faltered and cleared her throat, then regained her confidence. Project confidence! “I understood you were the investigating officer.”

“Yeah, the key word being
were
. That case was turned over to the Priority Unit this morning. You’ll have to talk to Captain Larson or Detective Alexander.”

Kate closed her eyes for an instant.
Thank You, Lord!

A quick call to the Priority Unit told her that Neil and Connor were both out of the office. Kate hung up and drummed her fingers on her desktop. They were out working on the case. She wished the secretary had spilled their location, but Connor had probably trained her not to reveal stuff like that. She’d better not call either of the guys on his cell phone. Instead, she decided to stop by the animal shelter and see if she could pick up any news
there and then drive to the police station in person. Maybe when they came back in, she could get the lowdown from Neil. The now-familiar rush of excitement washed over her. She smiled and grabbed her purse.

Connor asked Mrs. Burton for Stephen’s girlfriend’s name and address.

“We’re going over there,” he told her. “I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t call Stephen or anything. Just let us go over and talk to him.”

“You think he did something?” She’d drunk enough gin that Neil didn’t think her brain was functioning at its best.

“I don’t know, ma’am, but the holster was in his room, and the weapon is missing. I think maybe Steve can tell us where it is.” Connor smiled at her. “Maybe he can tell us if his father took the gun with him.”

“Think she’ll call him?” Neil asked, as they drove toward the girlfriend’s house.

“Pray that she doesn’t.”

The girlfriend’s mother let them in, pointed them toward the family room and disappeared. Steve and Alicia were watching TV, and Stephen jumped up off the sofa when Connor walked in holding up his badge and said, “Portland P.D. Just relax, Steve, I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

Alicia stood up, looking scared. She wasn’t more than sixteen.

“I didn’t do anything,” said Steve.

“I didn’t say you did. I was wondering if you could tell me where your father’s .22 pistol is.”

Alicia looked from Connor to Steve, then at Neil.

“Why don’t you go have a chat with your mom?” Neil said to Alicia with a smile. The girl quickly left the room.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Stephen.

The sketch wasn’t really a good likeness, Neil thought. The young man wasn’t bad-looking, but he had an attitude that
sapped his appeal. He would probably curse her out if his mother told him to clean up his pigsty of a room.

Connor sighed. “I don’t want to waste my time here. Just cuff him and bring him in.” He turned toward the door.

“Hey, wait,” Stephen cried. “You’re going to arrest me because I don’t know where the gun is?”

Connor swung around. “No, because you
do
know where it is and you’re lying. We found the holster in your room and the ammo boxes with your prints all over them.” They hadn’t actually run the prints yet, but Neil figured Connor was right. “Now, you can talk about it here, or my pal will handcuff you and read you your rights and bring you to the station. You’re going to end up there anyway, so I figure Neil might as well do it now.”

Connor left the room that time. He didn’t usually do that, and Neil was sure part of it was to intimidate the kid, but Connor was probably sick of the attitude, too.

“Talk,” Neil said.