The City PI and the Country Cop (4 page)

“All right. I’ll start at the beginning.”

“This should be interesting,” Newman said,
his attention more on a pile of notes on his desk than on Teague.
He picked one up, scanning it quickly before setting it aside.

Repressing a sigh of indignation, Teague told
him, “I knew one of the victims of the serial killer who struck in
Collingswood and the Grande County area.”

“I’m sure there were people who knew each one
of them.
They
didn’t come all the way out here on some wild
goose chase, thinking my case might be related to Slater’s cold
cases. Hell, I already told him it wasn’t.”

“Because of the fact those three boys were
murdered almost thirty years ago?”

“Yeah. And there are some major differences
between the killing of Grimes and their murders.”

“There are also equally major
similarities.”

“Copycat killing,” Newman replied
tightly.

“Possibly. Or the killer is back. Him or his
apprentice, or both.”

Newman cocked an eyebrow at that, finally
focusing his full attention on Teague. “Apprentice?”

“It’s been known to happen before. A serial
killer gets too old or too sick to do the killings himself, but he
needs the rush, so he finds someone younger with the same bent and
trains him how to kill and get away with it.”

“If—and I’m nowhere near convinced—the murder
of Lee Grimes is connected to the past ones in the Grande County
area—” Newman nodded slowly, “—that might explain the differences.”
He tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the desk. “The apprentice, if
he exists, might not get off on full-blown torture.”

“
Yet
,” Teague emphasized. “If this was
his first attempt…”

“You’re jumping to conclusions and you know
it. I’m still betting we have a copycat here. Someone who decided
to try his hand at murder, and maybe read online stories about the
Collingswood serial killer.” Leaning back, Newman studied Teague.
“You want to catch the guy who killed your friend so you’re
grabbing at straws. Why the interest now and not when it
happened?”

Teague smiled dryly. “First off, when it
happened I was eighteen. Secondly, Chris’s body wasn’t identified
until two years ago when Slater reopened the cold case file on the
serial killings.”

“Okay. But if you knew then, why wait until
now to put your nose into this?”

“Because Slater wouldn’t tell me anything
about his cases when I first asked him about them, right after I
found out that Chris was a victim. It took Grimes death to get him
to open up some and even then he was dubious at best that he should
do so.”

“How did you convince him?” Newman asked
sardonically. “Tell him you could do what the cops can’t because
you’re a civilian?”

“A well-trained civilian, since I’m a private
detective with my own agency and have been in the business for the
last twenty years.”

“Yeah, he said you were a PI. Not that it
gives you the right to play fast and loose with the law.”

Looking at Newman calculatingly, Teague
replied, “A right? No. But if I’m careful…” He let that hang,
gauging Newman’s reaction to his words.

* * * *

Detective Newman considered Donovan’s reply.
He seems confident that he can handle himself. Doesn’t mean he
can, however. Most private investigators deal with petty crimes and
window-peeping on straying spouses. What makes him think he can
take on a man who’s murdered at least three kids and perhaps four
in cold blood?
He paused, aware of what he’d just thought and
its implications.
Maybe I am ready to at least consider linking
Grimes death with the others.

“How much did Slater tell you about the
details of the killings?” Newman asked.

Donovan chuckled. “How much trouble will I
get him into if I reply to that?”

With a shake of his head, Newman replied, “As
far as I’m concerned, since they’re cold cases it’s his business
what he does with the information, as long as he only tells people
he knows won’t try to make something off of it.”

“I told him I have no intention of
broadcasting anything. There’s been enough pointless speculation
about the killer online. I’m not going to give anyone fuel to add
to it.”

Newman nodded. “Tell
me
, please.”

“All right.” Donovan lifted a finger. “They
were sodomized with foreign objects. I know from the news reports
that Grimes was as well. Secondly—” he lifted another finger,
“—they were hogtied. The news didn’t say that held true for Grimes,
but Slater as much as confirmed it. Third—” yet another finger went
up, “—they were slowly strangled to death by repeatedly being hung
and then released before they actually succumbed.”

“That fact doesn’t match for Grimes. He died
from the first hanging attempt.”

Donovan nodded. “That could have been
accidental if the killer is an apprentice who didn’t stop soon
enough. Or the killer could be a copycat since that detail wasn’t
released to the press. There’s also the matter of the other
tortures inflicted on the Grande County victims, namely the
cigarette burns.”

“Grimes wasn’t burned. However, two of his
fingers were broken and a third was fractured. Of course the
coroner couldn’t tell whether this was intentional or the result of
something that happened when he was captured by his killer.”

“If it was intentional, it could be a
replacement for using cigarettes to burn him.”

“I suppose. He was gagged, like the others,
only with a rag not his underwear.”

“Still,” Donovan pointed out, “he
was
gagged. Undoubtedly to keep anyone from hearing his cries while he
was being tortured.”

Newman realized, as they talked, that he was
giving Donovan information that had been withheld from the public.
Meaning I’m beginning to trust he’s not looking for the main
chance to do something with the info, like sell it to a news site?
If he’s not lying, and apparently Slater doesn’t think he is, he
has some sort of vested interest in this because his friend was a
victim. But…

“Why all this interest on your part after
almost thirty years? I get from what you said that you knew one of
the victims but there must be more to it than that.”

“Since, as you pointed out, none of the other
friends or family members who knew the victims have made the
connection to Grimes’s killing and shown up here?”

“Exactly. Now if you were a family member of
this Chris Frye, I could understand it. But an, I’m presuming, high
school friend…? That doesn’t wash.” Newman watched the play of
emotions over Donovan’s face—reluctance to answer, then
acceptance.

“Chris was gay, obviously. If he hadn’t been,
he wouldn’t have become a victim. When he and I were in high school
we had…a brief thing going on between us that might have developed
into more if his aunt hadn’t caught us messing around. The outcome
was that she kicked him out of her house. My family let him stay
with us until the end of the school year, with the promise we
wouldn’t continue our…fling. He decided to get out of town and I
couldn’t convince him otherwise, even though I promised to get us
an apartment as soon as I graduated.” Donovan sighed. “I think…I
feel I owe it to him to find out who murdered him because if it
hadn’t been for me he might not have left when he did and as a
result have had a run-in with the killer.”

While he was surprised to find out that
Donovan was gay, Newman didn’t let it show. Instead he said, “I’m
not sure that’s logical, but I can understand you feeling a certain
amount of guilt, given the circumstances.”

“Logical or not, I want to catch that bastard
before he strikes again,” Donovan replied tightly.

“Just how do you plan on doing that,
Donovan?” Newman asked.

“Call me Teague, please. It’s…friendlier?”
Donovan said before admitting, “I haven’t figured that out
yet.”

“I gathered as much. So why don’t you think
about it and if you come up with a plan that doesn’t involve
breaking the law, let me in on it. I want him stopped, too. I don’t
like killers in my town.” Newman grimaced. “Okay, that didn’t come
out quite right. I don’t like them, period. Of course when it comes
right down to it, he—be it the original man, his apprentice if he
has one, or a copycat—could be halfway across the country by
now.”

“True, but he could also be at a local motel,
or even be a new resident in town living in an apartment or renting
a house. I saw a few signs for homes to rent.”

“Yeah, it happens this time of year. Older
locals, retirees, who don’t look forward to the snow and the influx
of skiers, head to warmer climes and make money by renting their
homes to the people who come here to work at the nearby ski
resorts.”

“Isn’t it a bit early for that?”

Newman chuckled. “Never been in the mountains
this time of year, have you?”

“Nope.”

“It may only be early September, but around
here it can start snowing by the middle of the month if we get
lucky. ‘We’ meaning the ones who earn a living from catering to or
working for the skiing community.”

“That could chase our man away,” Teague
muttered.

“Possibly, but if he
has
rented an
apartment or a house, he can hunker down and look for kids hitching
from one place to another, especially to the resorts to find jobs
or to ski.”

Teague shook his head. “You know the ones he
goes after are transients, Detective. Homeless and looking for the
main chance to make a few bucks by hustling.”

“How about you put me on a first name basis,
too, Teague. It’s Hoyt.”

Teague smiled and nodded. “Hoyt it is. As I
was saying though; they hitch a ride, going from somewhere to
nowhere, get dropped off because the trucker or whoever isn’t going
any further, and then figure they can survive wherever they end up,
if they get lucky. Maybe they think they can find someone to take
them in if they give them what they want.”

“Free sex.”

“Yeah. And I’d be willing to bet that’s
possible here.” Teague smiled dryly. “I did a little checking.
There’s a bar in town that’s sort of gay friendly, and there’s the
park along the river—”

“Smith Park. Grimes’s body was found right
outside of it actually.” Hoyt’s phone rang just then. It was one of
the deputies telling him there was a problem with a drunk
driver.

“At ten on a Sunday morning?”

“It’s old man Johnson.”

“Aw hell. Okay. Where?” The deputy told him
and Hoyt promised he’d be there in a few minutes. “Sorry to break
this up,” he said to Teague after hanging up. “But duty calls.” He
paused, taking his gun from the desk drawer and strapping it on.
“If you’re up for it, why don’t we meet this evening after my shift
is over?”

“Sure. Name the place.”

Hoyt thought for a second then said, “There’s
a restaurant called Hal and Mary’s on Main Street. Decent food, a
nice patio if you like eating outside, reasonable prices.”

“Sounds good to me. When?”

“Say seven. It’ll give me time go home and
change into something comfortable.” As Hoyt ushered Teague out of
the squad room he added, “It’s a jeans and casual shirts kind of
place.”

Teague chuckled. “That makes it even
better.”

* * * *

When he got back to the motel, Teague called
Slater, catching him just before he was going to take off with his
family to go to a movie, and filled him in on the new information
he’d gotten from Hoyt.

“Not much,” Teague admitted. “Just that there
were no burns, but two of the kid’s fingers were broken and a third
fractured. Yeah, it could have come from fighting his abductor
but…
Damn it
.”

Slater chuckled. “You didn’t ask if any skin
was found under his nails.”

“Nope. I’ll ask tonight. We’re meeting for
dinner since we were interrupted this morning.”

“Dinner? You actually broke through his
attitude enough to have that happen?”

“It took some fast talking. He wasn’t exactly
happy to meet with me at first. If you hadn’t let him know I was
coming he’d probably have shoved me out the door before I got two
words in. Still, eventually, he sort of opened up.”

“It’s your charm and charisma,” Slater told
him.

“More like I convinced him I had a vested
interest in catching the killer.”

“That worked on me,” Slater replied,
chuckling. “Okay, I’m being looked at like I’m the worst dad in the
world because we’re not already in the car and on the way to the
movies. Thanks for the update.”

“You bet.”

After hanging up, Teague went in search of
lunch, ending up at a local diner not too far from Smith Park.
Therefore, when he finished eating, he decided to walk over and
check it out more thoroughly than he had on his drive-by the
previous night.

As parks went, it wasn’t bad. There was more
to it than he had thought, most of it hidden from the road by tall
trees. Since it was Sunday and the weather was nice, couples were
out strolling, kids were playing at the small fenced-in playground,
and people were walking their dogs. The farther he got from the
parking lot and picnic tables, the denser the trees became, with a
path winding through them that sometimes veered to the river’s edge
before meandering back into the small forest again.

The perfect killing ground at night. Lure the
victim away from the picnic area and bam. Then the killer goes back
to wherever he’s staying with no one the wiser.

While Teague walked back to where he’d left
his car at the restaurant, he went over the facts for all the
killings. As he did, he realized there was something else he needed
to ask Hoyt. Had anyone seen Grimes out hustling? Because Slater
said two of the boys in the Grande County cases had been doing that
before their murders.
And undoubtedly Chris did, too.