Rausch & Donlon - Can Be Murder 02 - Love Can Be Murder (28 page)

Jo was horrified to see that her words that were meant to calm Marjorie Payne had the opposite effect. Her eyes were wild when she screamed, “No! She has to pay, too!”

Frisco yelled, “Put down your weapon. Now, or I will shoot!”

Marjorie Payne turned to Frisco. The reporter reached into her pocket and there was a flash of white as she held two pieces of paper in her hand. She chose one, grabbed Sandra’s jaw and shoved the paper into Sandra’s mouth. Then she leveled the gun at the head of the pastor’s wife.

Jo heard Frisco yell, “Stop!” even as he shot Marjorie Payne in the head.

There was a remarkable stillness after the loud boom of Frisco’s gun and the collapse of the reporter’s body.

Frisco put his weapon back into the holster at his hip as Jo kicked the gun away from Marjorie Payne’s hand. She reached down to check the reporter’s pulse.

Jo looked up at Frisco and shook her head. She stood up and rushed over to Sandra Womack, who had coughed out the note into her lap. Jo untied her and helped the woman to stand up.

Frisco called for an ambulance and the ME. While they waited for help to arrive, the three of them stood around Marjorie Payne’s body as the blood pooled beneath her spread.

Pulling on a pair of latex gloves, Frisco plucked the note off the floor which had fallen from Sandra Womack’s lap. He read it out loud, “If a man is discovered committing adultery, both he and the woman must die. In this way, you will purge Israel of such evil.”

Sandra Womack sucked in a sharp breath. “That’s from Deuteronomy. It’s the opening quote to all our speeches about the sanctity of marriage. We meant the souls of adulterers will shrivel and die, not their human bodies. My God. She took it literally. ”

Jo turned to the pastor’s wife and said, “You are very lucky your husband mentioned the interview you had with her. He saved your life.”

Mrs. Womack’s face was ashen, as if the reality of what had almost happened hit her full force.

Jo crouched down next to the body and pulled the remaining piece of paper out of the TV reporter’s hand. She said, “It’s another one from Deuteronomy. It says: ‘No one born of a forbidden union may enter the assembly of the Lord. Even to the tenth generation, none of his descendants may enter the assembly of the Lord.’”

Frisco looked puzzled. “Who do you think that one was for?”

Jo looked at the body of the reporter. “I think she meant it for herself. Even when she stopped being Michelle Bishop and re-invented herself as Marjorie Payne, I’ll bet she still felt like there was no place for her with God. She was always going to be a child born of a forbidden union.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Turners Bend

Late March

On the night of the premiere and gala, no suspicious women were sighted, no incidents had occurred, other than a couple of DUI tickets and a lost tiara. Authorities were stymied. Was the killer in town during the premiere? How could they have missed her? Was the last message possibly from a copycat killer? Or a prank?

The following week, Turners Bend went into hibernation. It was a period of decompression. The neighboring police, State Patrol and extra FBI agents were gone. The media crews that had filled the town and snarled the traffic, departed as quickly as they had appeared. Lucinda and Dr. and Maribelle Collingsworth left for home, Lucinda reluctantly but with stars in her eyes.

As Chip drove down Main Street, he was shocked at how desolate the town looked, sort of post-apocalyptic with heaping trashcans lined up along the curb. There were a few cars outside the Bend and the Bun, but no traffic moving on Main Street. The street’s only stoplight was flashing yellow. He saw Agent Klein and another agent loading the FBI’s van outside of Harriet’s House of Hair, so he stopped in to see Masterson in her temporary office. She was packing a box.

“Mind if I interrupt? Looks like you are moving.”

“Yes, I’m moving our office to Sioux City. Did you see the newspaper this morning?”

“No, I was going to pick one up from the newspaper box outside of the Bun. Care to join me for a cup of coffee and fill me in on the details?”

Chip was surprised she agreed to join him. It seemed a little out of character for her. They walked to the Bun, and when he spied the headlines through the glass front of the paper box, his curiosity was definitely aroused. It read: FBI Confirms Iowa Serial Killer Being Investigated. The sub-headline read: Identity of Person of Interest Not Revealed.

The only customer in the café was Chief Fredrickson, who was reading the newspaper.

“You might as well join us, Chief,” said Masterson. “I’ll fill you both in on what the press doesn’t know yet, but probably will by tomorrow.”

Bernice brought them coffee and cinnamon rolls. “On the house today, we’ve got lots of rolls and not enough customers.” She returned to the counter and started filling ketchup bottles.

“We found two more bodies just where we expected based on the map, one in Ames in a deserted store and one in Council Bluffs in an old warehouse. We were able to ID the bodies and the next of kin are being contacted before we release their names. The only place left on the map is the Sioux City area. The remaining missing woman is the one that has been missing the shortest period of time. As you recall, the fabric samples were mailed from Sioux City. I’m moving my office there today. We’re moving in on Elizabeth Brown. I have no concrete evidence that she is our killer, but I don’t have any other suspects either. The Sioux City police got an anonymous tip. I think they will find her soon. If we can locate the last victim, I think we can find the evidence we need to tie her to the killings.

“I sure hope so,” said the chief. “That message about looking for new recruits has still got me worried.”

“We’re pretty sure she didn’t show up at the premiere last week. My people would have spotted her, if she had. I think Turners Bend can rest easy now. You’re off the hook,” said Masterson, pausing to wipe frosting off her fingers. “God, I’ll sure miss these cinnamon rolls.”

“It’s still hard for me to think of a female as a serial killer, even though I wrote one into my next novel. It was the twist I needed. Now I just have my abducted doctor to rescue.”

“I can’t help you with your fictional abduction, but I know what you mean about a female serial killer. It doesn’t fit the usual profile. Nevertheless, I’m 99% sure we have identified the right killer. By the way, I want to commend both of you. Your insights have been spot-on in this case. I underrated you both and I apologize. In fact, Chief, I’ve sent a commendation to the Iowa Bureau of Investigation.”

The chief blushed and began to sputter. “Thanks, but it was just all in a day’s work.”

“And, Chip, I hope you understand that I have to be very careful about involving private citizens in investigations. I shared the info with you today, because I’ve grown to trust you and know you’ll keep all this confidential until the case is resolved. For a hack crime writer, you’re not too bad.” The agent did something Chip rarely heard her do … she laughed.

“The van should be loaded by now. We’re off to Sioux City to catch a serial killer. Wish me luck.” Agent Masterson stood and shook their hands before leaving. Her shake was so firm it made Chip wince a bit.

He and the chief sat silently for a few minutes processing the new developments and taking in the agent’s compliments.

“I don’t know about you, Chief, but I feel kind of cheated. Wish we could be there to see this through to the end. I’d like to see how it all goes down. I’d like to see Masterson busting down doors and drawing her gun on the killer.”

“I know what you mean. I guess we’ll just have to be satisfied with the part we played, and it’s nice to get back to our normal petty crimes and drunken brawls. It sure was quite the wild ride for a while, wasn’t it?”

The café’s door chime jangled and Lance strolled in, causing Bernice to perk up, flounce her hair and give him her version of a Hollywood starlet smile.

“I’ve never seen this place so dead,” he said to the two men. “Mind if I join you?”

“I got police business to do, but you can keep Chip company. Bye boys. Thanks for the roll, Bernice.” Chief Fredrickson departed and Lance took his chair.

“You’re looking a little glum, buddy,” said Chip. “Things going awry in Loveland?”

“It’s the wedding. I thought it might be nice to get married here, since this is where we met. Lucinda is thinking destination wedding, she’s considering everywhere from Aruba to some castle in Heidelberg. And that’s not all. This coming weekend we are going to Chicago, so she can meet my parents. For some reason, my mother is under the assumption that we are going to be married in Evanston. She’s already booked Northminster Presbyterian Church. I haven’t dared to tell her Lucinda is Catholic. And I thought this was going to be fun. I was sure mistaken.”

Chip couldn’t decide if he should be gleeful or sympathetic. He opted for the later. “Take it from a guy who’s had three weddings. Keep a low profile and stay out of the planning. I do have to say, though, that I’m glad you tamed my agent and that she’s too busy with wedding plans to ride me about my writing.”

“Tamed her?” Lance shook his head.

“Yes, before you came on the scene, she was a hell cat. Now she’s a pussy cat.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Chip. I think the hell cat may be returning. I’d sure hate to cross her on this wedding stuff. I had my head chewed off this morning over the phone.”

“Better you than me, better you than me.” Chip hesitated, and then continued. “To be honest, Lance, for a while I thought you were interested in Jane Swanson.”

“I was, but Jane made it clear to me she wasn’t interested. I get the impression that she has someone else in mind, and that someone is you.”

“I thought so at one time. Even asked her to marry me. But I got shot down.”

“Don’t give up, pal. My guess is that she will come around.”

Lance patted him on the shoulder, stood and said, “Got to go and put in a call to my mother. Wish me luck.”

Chip’s first impulse was to march over to the veterinary clinic, take Jane into his arms and sweep her away for a destination wedding. He thought better of it; best to go slow and let things percolate. Instead, he went home to write. Even with Lucinda off his back for the meantime, he still had to make a living, and Dr. Goodman was still being held by his captor.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Mind Games

Northeast Minnesota, Minneapolis & Brooklyn Center, Minnesota

Early August

It was the bumping beneath him that woke up Dr. John Goodman. His head snapped backwards and hit the wall behind him. When he tried to reach up to rub his aching head, he realized that his hands were restrained once again. The grim reminder that he had been abducted came rushing back to him like a tide. Slowly he opened his eyes. After they adjusted to the dim light, he saw he was alone and sitting upright. His hands and feet were strapped down to a seat that ran along the length of the back of a windowless van. He could feel the hum of the engine vibrating through the vehicle.

Not again!
The last time he had been in the back of a van like this, the bad guys had been taking him to operate on Jo, trying to make her into one of their assassins. This time, he had no idea of where he was being taken, but it would have to be Jo’s turn to rescue him. John felt a trickle of sweat run down his back.

He looked around and saw canvas bags of varying sizes and shapes scattered on the floor by his feet. Across from John was another long seat. He leaned as far forward as the restraints would allow and tilted his head to get a better view of a long, skinny wooden object underneath. He could swear that it looked like a canoe paddle.
What the hell … what kind of kidnapper carries a canoe paddle in the back of his van?

John craned his neck, but he couldn’t see out the front window to get an idea of where they were going. A panel divided the front cab from the cargo area in the back, with a small window between. Through the opening, he could see it had grown darker outside since he was last conscious. He also saw the back of a head in the front seat. As far as he could tell, there was no one in the passenger seat. John yelled out, “Hey! Where are you taking me?” He immediately regretted speaking so loudly when his head throbbed in protest.

The man in the front seat turned around. John could see his profile and recognized that his captor was driving. The man said, “Welcome back to the living, Dr. Goodman. You’ve been out for quite awhile. And let me tell you, I had a heck of a time getting you into that seat. You were nothing but dead weight.”

He faced forward, focused once again on the road in front of them. John said, “You didn’t answer my question. Where are we going?”

“Oh, I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised. It’s really quite beautiful.” He chuckled and then said, “Of course, you may have a different opinion, since it will be the last place you will ever see.” An involuntary shudder flowed through John.

The abductor continued, “We should be there in about another two hours, give or take.”

John decided to keep the guy talking, hoping to get some vital piece of information that would help.

He tried another angle. “Well, maybe since we have so much time, you can explain to me how you know Agent Schwann.”

John could hear the blast of a car horn somewhere off to the right and his captor was temporarily distracted. When the kidnapper finally spoke, he said, “People are always in such a hurry these days. Don’t you think?”

The man turned his head again toward John and said, “Take you, for instance. Always in a hurry to have answers.” He faced forward again and John thought he would not hear anymore from him.

A few moments later, however, he was rewarded with a response. “At first, I simply came to eliminate you. You see, you were directly responsible for the death of a very great man.”

John’s fuzzy brain sifted through his past case files, trying to recall this man’s face in a sea of grief-wracked family members. “You said that I caused a death. Was he a patient of mine?”