Relative Malice (15 page)

24

While they waited for the paramedics, Carlee Somerfelt clung to Brynn’s hand with what little strength she had left. Brynn whispered to the girl to hang on; everything would be okay as soon as they got her to the hospital. Tears streaming down her face, Brynn prayed for the girl’s life while speaking assuring words she feared were meaningless. Her face drained of color, the girl looked like she was dying.

When the paramedics arrived, they quickly sized up the situation, commending Brynn on refusing to let anyone remove the knife from Carlee’s abdomen. The girl was quiet except for a moaned, “No,” when they tried to remove Brynn’s hand from hers. One of the paramedics, a woman who didn’t look a lot older than Brynn, bent over and promised the girl they’d let Brynn come with them, but first they had to get Carlee on the gurney for transport to the hospital.

Brynn followed them to the ambulance, where she was allowed to take a spot close to Carlee. The female paramedic added notes to a chart while her partner hooked Carlee up to an IV and took her vitals. When he finished, she said to Brynn, “Okay, take her hand again. Talk to her like you were before and we’ll see if she responds.”

The girl’s hand felt cold. Brynn’s tears resumed their embarrassing progress down her face. “Carlee, it’s me. Brynn. I’m right here with you. Can you hear me?”

Carlee moaned.

“Don’t try to talk. You have to rest. We’ll be at the hospital in a minute. The doctors will fix you up.” Her grip tightened on Brynn’s hand.

The lights were on in Viva Jennemen’s small house and in Iseroth’s cottage. Jennemen’s old van sat in front of the garage. Nash parked two doors down from Jennemen’s place, relieving the Cameron cop.

Kendall yawned. “It looks like they’re still here.”

“I figured they’d have taken off.”

“Maybe we’re wrong about all of them being in touch with each other.”

Nash grunted. “Maybe. Try Brynn again. Can she pull phone records?”

“I can get those from someone at the station.”

“Right now?”

“Probably not. I’ll keep trying Brynn.”

“I’m going to try to get close enough to see what those two are up to,” Nash said. “I don’t think there’s anyone else in residence on this street right now; everyone’s gone for the winter. Turn your flashlight on to signal me if you see someone coming.”

Glad he was dressed in dark clothing, Nash crept through the trees, making his way to the house. He could see through a side window that Jennemen was sitting in a mustard yellow recliner in front of a large TV, an open beer and a bag of corn chips next to her on a side table. She’d drifted off.

He crept around the house, careful to stay hidden by the shrubbery in case Iseroth poked his nose out. The other rooms looked normal, her bedroom door open, admitting enough light to make the room visible from the window. No sign of any baby stuff.

At Iseroth’s cottage, a TV was on in the living room, but Iseroth wasn’t in sight. There were two tiny rooms off the living room, one a bedroom that barely had enough space for a bed, a dresser, and a nightstand. The other room was even smaller. A fifties-style, floor-to-ceiling pole lamp gave the room a soft glow. Iseroth sat at a desk, engrossed by something on a computer screen.

Nash crept back to the car. “They don’t look rattled; looks like they’re settled in for the night. Jennemen’s snoozing in a recliner. She has a computer in the second bedroom, but it’s ancient. Iseroth’s using a laptop as we speak.”

“Could you see inside the empty cottage?”

“Yeah. If it’s being used for storage, there’s not much there and everything’s out of sight. No baby.”

Kendall’s phone buzzed just as they were deciding whether to go back to Eau Claire.

“Alverson here. What are you up to?”

“None of your business. I’m off this weekend.”

“I know. A little white-haired chick asked me to call you. She’s in the ICU at St. Luke’s. I’m calling from the lobby.”

Kendall’s stomach pitched. “What happened to her?”

“Her? Nothing. She’s waiting for our vic to come out of surgery. Says she promised to stay with her until the parents come.”

“What vic?”

When Kendall and Nash arrived at the hospital, the only two people in the ICU waiting area were asleep in front of a muted TV. Kendall flashed her ID at the desk and asked the nurse where she could find Brynn.

The bright-eyed, young nurse explained that Brynn was in the recovery room with Carlee Somerfelt. “You can’t go in there, but I’ll tell her you’re here.”

“Is Detective Alverson here?”

“Is he the tall one?” When Kendall nodded, she said, “His partner left and he said he’d wait here until you arrived. He must have gone down for coffee.”

They found Alverson in front of a coffee machine on the first floor.

“How is Brynn involved in this?” Kendall asked.

Alverson took in Nash standing at Kendall’s side. “What are you two doing together?”

Kendall grabbed Alverson’s arm, leading him across the room where they could talk without Nash overhearing. “I asked you a question.”

“Take it easy. It’s like I told you; a teenage girl was raped and stabbed in the county park north of town. She was with some kind of group on a walking tour looking at stars. Your friend was with the group. The vic and some of her gal pals from college were there on a field trip. When they were getting ready to leave the park, and found that Carlee Somerfelt was missing, your gal found her. The vic won’t let her out of her sight.”

“How bad is Somerfelt hurt?”

“She’s one lucky lady. The knife missed her vitals, but she lost a lot of blood.”

“She’ll make a full recovery?”

“That’s what the doc said.”

“Do you have any leads on her attacker?”

“Not yet. They did some fingernail scrapings. Teed thought he got enough to be usable, but that’ll take some time to ID.”

“So you have nothing.”

“That’s about it. Until she talks, we don’t have squat. The parents were at a wedding in Madison. Had their cell phones turned off for a while, but they’re on their way. Boss said this one is all yours, could be related to those rapes.” He turned back to the machine to retrieve his coffee.

Kendall and Nash went to find Brynn.

Nash, Brynn and Kendall sat in Kendall’s living room, empty fast food wrappers on the coffee table in front of them. Kendall and Nash had waited with Brynn until the Somerfelts arrived at the hospital. When Brynn turned down Kendall’s offer to spend the night, Nash walked across the hall with her and inspected each room before returning.

He closed the door behind him. “Think she’s okay?”

“She felt good about being there for Carlee, and she’s going back tomorrow to see her, which may be therapeutic for Brynn. She witnessed a scene that would make a cop squeamish. They checked her out at the hospital; she wasn’t in shock.”

“Tougher than she looks. Do you think this is the same rapist Chippewa’s been looking for?”

“Carlee Somerfelt fits the profile of the victims, so Schoenfuss assigned me to start working it. One of the women who was raped said the guy smelled like he’d been working on cars. That was really the only thing they had to go on. Other than that, it was the usual; the guy was average build and height, face covered by a ski mask. I plan on making the rounds of garages, see if anyone gets skittish.”

“That’s about all you can do unless Somerfelt has something else to add.” He yawned. “Don’t you think it’s strange that Brynn happened to be there when this guy struck again?”

“It had to be a coincidence.“

Their eyes met. Kendall knew he was implying Brynn might have been the intended victim. But it made no sense. “I’m not a big fan of coincidence either, but what else could it be? We were the only ones who knew Brynn was going on that walk.”

He stood and stretched. “I’m just saying there’ve been too many coincidences for me, starting with the threats to Gray. And someone broke into Brynn’s place.”

“Those could be explained; you thought Gray’s threats were related to his union problems and the break-in, random.”

“I’m not so sure, anymore. There could be a connection here somewhere. Maybe someone’s
trying to scare us off.”

“But why go after Brynn? Not many people know she’s been helping us. No one I’d suspect of this.” Kendall’s mind spun with possibilities. “There’s not much we can do about it except keep her covered.”

Nash frowned. “I’ve been thinking about Jennemen again. The old bat lied about everything, even about having a computer. We didn’t run a background on her, and it bit us in the ass. So what’s your game plan for tomorrow? Want to go back to Cameron?”

“I suppose we should keep watching them. I have to talk to Carlee first thing in the morning, providing she’s conscious. You go ahead, and I’ll drive up as soon as I can.”

“Works for me. We need enough to get warrants on those freaks. Maybe Tarkowski can help us out.”

“Yeah, I’ll try him tomorrow.” Kendall picked up their empty glasses and carried them to the counter.

Nash walked toward the door. “We’d better have a talk with Brynn tomorrow and ask her to quit her lone night walks. Tell her to buy a treadmill.”

25

The guys started calling him Sharky when his second set of teeth came in as far apart as slats on a picket fence. He was watching a rerun of
Jaws
with his buddies when they came up with it. His teeth—added to his long, flaring nose and widely set eyes—did give Gerald Fostvedt a shark-like appearance. Jerry, as his mother called him, didn’t object to the nickname. It could have been a lot worse.

He dropped out of high school in the middle of his junior year when he discovered that his hobby, working on cars, could get him a job at the car repair shop down the street. He made good money, enough for a decent car and a fake ID to get him into the bars on weekends. He didn’t give a shit about things the other kids went gaga over: sports, dances, pep-rallies, and after-school clubs. It was all a load of crap, strictly for the favored few and the nerds.

He wanted to save enough money to get his own place. His mother was never around, and most of the time his two stepsisters acted like he didn’t exist, running around the trailer half-naked. But the bitches had smokin’ hot bodies. Hot bodies the sluts let him use when they wanted something from him, money or a freebie repair when their car broke down.

After watching them get ready for a night out, he’d jerk off while his rap music cranked in the background; then he’d go out searching. It was easy to find a girl stupid enough, or wasted enough, to trip out to her car on spiky high heels.

Then one hot, humid summer evening,
she
strolled out of a club after midnight. Unlike the usual airheads, she scoured the lot as she walked, one of her hands hidden in a jacket pocket. Clutching a knife? Pepper spray?

He’d known he should let her pass. She looked like trouble, but she also looked like the hottest thing he’d ever seen on two legs. She passed the opening between two SUV’s, where he’d been crouched awaiting his next prey. He saw her face as a pair of headlights from a retreating car highlighted it.

It couldn’t fucking be!

Who the hell did she think she was, all got up like a whore? He stepped out of the shadows.

26

Sunday

With Brynn next to her in the Highlander, Kendall left for the hospital before nine. She and Nash had agreed not to let Brynn go anywhere alone.

Carlee’s mother sat at her bedside and rushed out to greet them when she saw Kendall and Brynn nearing the open door. She smiled at Brynn. “Thank you for coming. She’s been asking for you.”

Awkwardly, Brynn introduced Kendall. “This is my friend, Detective Halsrud.”

“Mrs. Somerfelt, I’m sorry about what happened to your daughter. You understand, we have to talk to her. I know you wouldn’t want her assailant to go unpunished.”

“Do we have to do it now? She’s so upset . . . She could have died last night.”

“If too much time passes, she’ll tuck any memories of the attack into her subconscious and it’ll be too late to get any useful feedback. I think whoever did this to her may be responsible for a series of rapes in our area. What he did to Carlee tells us he’s escalating; the next girl may not survive.”

Lois Somerfelt took them into Carlee’s room. The girl’s eyes were closed as Kendall and Brynn took up positions beside the bed. Kendall spoke softly. “Carlee? I’m Detective Halsrud. I’m with the Eau Claire Police.”

The girl didn’t stir.

“I have Brynn with me. You remember Brynn, she was with you last night.

She’s very worried about you.”

Carlee opened her eyes and looked at Brynn. “You came.”

Brynn took her hand. “Kendall needs to talk to you, Carlee. She said I can stay with you if you want me to.”

The girl whispered a weak assent.

“I know this is hard for you, Carlee,” Kendall began. “But I need you to tell me everything you can remember about the man who did this to you. Do you think you can do that?”

Carlee’s eyes glistened. She tightened her grip on Brynn’s hand.

“Let’s try this,” Kendall said, her voice low. “Close your eyes and pretend you’re watching a movie of what happened last night.” Carlee shut her eyes. “Take some deep breaths. Then picture yourself in the park last night with your friends. Remember, he can’t hurt you anymore. You’re safe here in the hospital. Tell me what you see.”

A moment passed. Kendall wondered how safe Carlee really was in the hospital and considered putting a uniform at her door. She’d run it by the boss later.

“There were seven of us from school,” Carlee finally whispered. “The astronomy walk was on a list of things we could do for extra credit. When we got to the meadow, one of the men let me look in his telescope; it was so cool. I never saw stars that way before. Then I went to find my friends; they’d walked over toward the trees. I heard their voices, and started to go over to toward them.”

She stopped talking. A lone tear slid from her closed eyes. “It happened so fast. I was between some trees and he grabbed me from behind. He shoved me down on the ground. Then he held my arms and pulled my jeans down. And he did it . . . He raped me.” She choked up.

“Take some more deep breaths, Carlee,” Kendall said, giving the girl a minute to compose herself. “Now describe how he looked, smelled, dressed, anything you can remember about him. If he said something to you, tell me what he said and what his voice sounded like.”

After a short pause, she answered, “I didn’t see much. He had on a leather jacket. And he was wearing a ski mask, so I couldn’t see his face. It was dark.”

Kendall hated to push the girl, but she had to have something—anything—to go on if they were to catch the animal that assaulted her. “Are you sure you don’t remember anything else, Carlee? I know it’s painful for you to play it back in your mind, but even the smallest thing could help us find him.”

Carlee still had her eyelids squeezed shut, her breathing rapid. “He called me a bitch and told me to keep my mouth shut or he’d kill me. I did what he said, I never said a word . . . But he stabbed me anyway.”

Kendall couldn’t ask specifically about the man’s scent. “Think hard, Carlee. Did he have an accent? Could you tell if he was Caucasian? Did he wear cologne?”

She sniffed and Brynn handed her a tissue. “He sounded young, but like a tough guy. You know, maybe about my age, but like he was trying to be a real badass. He didn’t talk like a black guy, and I don’t remember any accent.” She wiped her face. “His smell. You said cologne. There was something . . . Yeah. He was wearing gloves, and when he had his hand over my mouth, it smelled like gasoline.”

As soon as she got back home, Brynn opened the chat room of the site she’d decided was most likely to attract the pedophiles. If she only had another computer, she could be working on tracking their usernames at the same time she monitored the chat room.

Edgy, she flinched when she heard a knock at the door. Kendall had told her not to open the door to anyone she didn’t know, and she didn’t have a reading scheduled. When the knock repeated, she peered out into the parking area behind the building. A black Lexus like her mother’s was parked in front of the door.

Monica Zellman entered the apartment when Brynn opened the door. Neither greeted the other. Her mother’s gaze immediately assessed everything in the room, and Brynn reminded herself to be braced for a cutting comment on the décor. Monica’s taste ran to Country French, brocade, and crystal lamps dripping with prisms.

She settled on the sofa. “You’ve fixed the place nicely.” She stroked the ornate, oak secretary that had been Vadoma’s. “This secretary is a gorgeous antique.”

It had to be killing her mother not to ask how she managed to afford it. Brynn’s parole officer must have counseled Monica to remain positive with her daughter if she wanted to renew a relationship with her.

“The woman who lived here before me left all her things behind. I kept most of it,” Brynn explained. No need to tell her about Vadoma. Without the window in the entry door, she’d have no clue about Brynn’s sideline. Except that Fournier had probably filled her in.

“I’ve missed you, Brynn.”

She was amazed her mother’s words weren’t followed by a plea for her to come home. Good thing. If she and her mother were ever going to reconnect, Monica would have to accept Brynn’s need for independence.

“I know you felt like I was overprotective, but I just wanted to keep you safe.”

Brynn’s bitterness spilled out. “Is that why you wouldn’t let me learn to drive?” Driving had been a large bone of contention between mother and daughter.

Monica’s eyes widened. “But darling, what if you had an accident?”

“I’m an albino Mother, not a hemophiliac.” She should have bitten her tongue. At the moment she wanted something from her mother. But then Monica gave Brynn the perfect opening. “I see you have a computer already.”

“I’m doing some work for a detective; that’s her computer. Didn’t Officer Fournier tell you about it?” She should have added that she could barely afford food, much less a computer.

Monica squirmed in her seat. Brynn knew her mother couldn’t offer to return her old computer; her mother had dropped it off at a resale shop the day she’d found out about the hacking. “Well, darling,” her mother said through tightened lips, “you’ve earned the right to own a computer again, I suppose. Why don’t you let me buy you one?”