The Lady Who Cried Murder (A Mac Faraday Mystery) (16 page)

“But first,” David said to Archie, “I need you to hack into the cell phone records for Bevis Palazzi’s account.”

“That’s illegal,” Chelsea said. “You need a warrant to go hacking into people’s phone records.”

“Nick Fields is dead,” David told her. “We don’t need a warrant to look at his cell phone that was left in our possession. The call record shows us that he called Bevis Palazzi.”

“I remember him getting a phone call,” Archie recalled, “while he was in the interrogation room before Bogie went in. He was really mad when he got that call. He said not to say anything—”

“Standard lawyer line,” David said. “Nick told us that he was calling his lawyer. That lawyer must have been Bevis.”

“And Bevis is a lawyer,” Bogie said. “So why didn’t he stick around to defend Nick Fields?”

“Because he wanted him dead instead,” David said. “He must have been covering his own butt. After all, he’s a suspected in Khloe’s murder.”

“Are you thinking he called the hit man?” Archie asked. “What’s his motive for wanting Nick dead?”

“Most likely to cover up their relationship,” Mac said as he came in to overhear the end of their conversation. “Bevis and Nick Fields appear to have been pretty tight.”

“Tighter than we ever suspected.” Cameron came in behind him. “Nick’s sugar momma is Bevis. Food!” Spotting the box of food, she dug through the containers to select a dinner. “I’m starved.”

“Bevis?” David said. “Nick’s sugar momma? Are you sure?”

“He’s the lawyer handling Sheila McGrath’s account,” Cameron said. “Sheila has been in a coma for the last four years. It looks like Bevis stole her identity, took trips and bought cars and a house and set Nick up to play hubby to Bevis in a dress, wig, and humungous fake boobs.” She showed a roasted chicken dinner to Chelsea. “Can I have this?”

“Help yourself.” Chelsea turned to her when the detective sat down at the desk across from her. “That’s just totally bizarre.”

“Bizarre, but true.” Cameron cut into her baked potato. “The neighbor ID’d Bevis in a wig. So we think Bevis paid Nick well to play house with him, but then when he found Nick cheating, he’d pitch a bitch fit and kill the women in a fit of jealousy—then he’d steal their uteruses since he didn’t have one of his own.” Searching, she looked around. “Is there any sour cream left?”

“Three uteruses were found in the freezer. Bevis has killed at least three women.” Mac handed Cameron a sour cream container from out of the box. “Lily Carter confirmed that Bevis was with them the same night that Khloe met Nick Fields.”

“At which time he was dating Amber Houston,” Cameron said while opening the container of sour cream. “Bevis killed her to get her out of the way to make room for him. However, it didn’t work. Nick took off for Hollywood with Khloe instead.”

Mac took up the story. “Khloe and Nick kept their sexual relationship a secret because Nick was pretending to be gay. For some reason, he thought he’d go further if he was a homosexual. Bevis must have bought Nick’s lie and didn’t realize Khloe and Nick’s friendship had benefits that included sex until Nick and Khloe went on a spending spree at the Spencer Inn on Sheila McGrath’s credit card. That’s why Bevis didn’t kill her until just recently.”

“Sheila McGrath’s finance records show a lot of trips out to the West Coast,” Cameron said. “Must have been Bevis chasing after Nick, under the pretense of visiting his friend Khloe. He killed every woman who got in his way—Amber Houston, Tiffany Blanchard, and Khloe Everest.”

“Actually, he killed four women.” Doc Washington wiped her mouth with her napkin. “If Bevis killed Khloe Everest, then I believe he also killed Dee Blakeley, which would make it four women.”

The corner of Mac’s lips kicked up. “You did your comparison?”

She nodded her head. “And to be sure, I sent the reports to a forensics expert friend of mine in New York. He confirmed it. While there are differences, like Dee Blakeley wasn’t butchered the way the other women were, there are a number of similarities. All four women were first stabbed in the small of the back, and their spinal columns were severed, which paralyzed them. Then, the killer rolled them over onto their backs and sat on them. There were bruises on the hips that are consistent with great weight resting on them and him pressing his thighs against their sides and ribs to hold them in place. Then, the rest of the stab wounds were in the chest and stomach. The angles of the stab wounds are consistent with him sitting on them and thrusting straight up and down, not at an angle.” She concluded, “That part of the M.O. is the same in all four cases.”

“We need to pick up Bevis for these murders,” Mac said to David.

“I agree,” David said, “but the problem is that a United States Senator is claiming to be his alibi for Khloe’s murder.”

“Nick had an alibi for her murder, too,” Cameron said.

“It’s not as solid,” David said.

“Or as impressive,” Cameron noted with an arched eyebrow. “His alibi isn’t a US senator.”

“If Doc is correct in that whoever killed these three women also killed Dee Blakeley, then that eliminates Nick Fields,” Mac said. “He was only about twelve or so when Dee Blakeley was murdered.”

“Plus, he was living in a small town in Pennsylvania,” Bogie said.

“We have the uterus in the freezer that was in the house that Bevis had purchased with stolen money from a woman in a coma,” Mac said. “Once DNA matches them to the three women—”

“Wasn’t Nick living there, too?” Chelsea asked. “Sounds to me like Bevis has a case for an easy dismissal. He’s going to be saying it was Nick that killed the last three victims to keep them quiet about him stepping out on Bevis, who was keeping him in a lavish lifestyle in exchange for sex, which is warped and perverted.”

“Hey,” Cameron said, “women have been playing house for money in exchange for sex for a long time.”

“We’re talking about a straight man having a homosexual relationship in exchange for money,” Chelsea said.

“I didn’t say it wasn’t perverted,” Cameron said. “I’m simply saying the concept is not new.”

“Due to the inconsistencies of the MOs in those three murders with Dee Blakeley’s, Bevis’ lawyer will put reasonable doubt in the minds of the jurors,” Chelsea said.

“With Nick dead,” David said, “he can’t dispute Bevis’ defense, nor can he testify against him.”

“Who’s to say Bevis wasn’t home with his daddy the senator at the time of Khloe’s murder?” Mac asked with sarcasm.

“How much do you want to bet Bevis’ boss will cover up the identity theft and embezzlement?” Cameron said. “Give him four years, and Bevis will be running for president. I can see it now. Bevis the Butthead for President.”

“If the DNA from the uteruses connects with the three victims,” Doc said, “then we should have enough to arrest Bevis.”

“But not convict.” Disgusted, Mac plopped down on the chair next to the desk David was sitting at. “Senator Palazzi’s lawyer and cleanup team will somehow manage to steal them like he did the tape.”

His appetite gone, David placed the lid over his plate. “I’m really ready for a break in this case.”

“I’ve got one for you.” Archie came into the squad room from where she had been working on Bogie’s desktop computer. “We got a hit through the face recognition program. Lincoln Northrop. You’re right, David. He was in the army—disciplinary discharge. The military tried to nail him for the murder of his CO but couldn’t get enough evidence for a conviction. He ended up cutting a deal for a dishonorable discharge.”

“How did you get all that?” Chelsea asked her.

“I have my sources.” Archie shrugged her shoulders.

“Did you hack—?”

“I know where he is,” Archie interrupted her to hand a slip of paper to Mac. “I found where the FBI has been looking for him. He’s suspected in four murders—as a hired gun. A credit card with one of his aliases was used to check into a hotel off Route 70 in Washington, PA, this evening.”

“PA! My jurisdiction!” Cameron slapped the lid shut on her dinner and stood up. “We’re going to nail ourselves a hired gun, men! Let’s roll!”

Chapter Seventeen

Lincoln Northrop was checked in a roadside motel in Washington, Pennsylvania. With a few phone calls to her department in the Pennsylvania State Police, homicide detective Cameron Gates managed to have six state police troopers and three cruisers surrounding and watching the hotel by the time they arrived. Cameron had two Spencer police cruisers following her during the ninety-minute drive west and then north up to Pennsylvania. David and Mac were in one, with Bogie and Officer Brewster following in the deputy chief’s cruiser.

Just on the off chance a canine was needed, David had loaded Gnarly into the back seat of the cruiser.

With the time approaching midnight, David had assumed the silence in his cruiser was due to exhaustion after an exceedingly long day. The only sound in the cruiser was Gnarly’s snoring in the back seat. Afraid he would fall asleep at the wheel, David broke the silence. “You need to take Gnarly to a sleep clinic for his sleep apnea.”

“Sometimes I feel like putting Archie’s mask on him,” Mac replied.

“Archie?”

“Forget I said that.” Mac realized he had broken a confidence.

“She has sleep apnea?”

“A lot of people have it,” Mac said.

“I never would have guessed.”

“She looks like Hannibal Lector with her mask on,” Mac said with a smile.

With a loud snort, Gnarly sat up and looked around. Seeming to remember where he was, he dropped back down and resumed snoring.

“It’s a dog’s life,” David said.

Mac glanced over his shoulder back at Gnarly, who was lying on his back with his legs spread out in four directions and his head tilted back. “Gnarly needs to learn how to relax.”

He turned back to look out the front windshield. The caravan of cruisers was turning onto the expressway that went around Morgantown, West Virginia. Even though the hotel Lincoln Northrop was hiding out at was only ninety miles away, they were going across three states to get him.

“We need to get him alive,” Mac said.

“I always try to get them alive,” David replied.

“Think about it,” Mac continued. “Northrop is three removed from those murdered. Northrop was probably hired by Cooper, who works for Brooks, who’s Senator Palazzi’s lawyer. Alive, he can turn on Cooper. Knowing Cooper, he’d turn on Brooks in a heartbeat, which would force him to turn on the senator. If we can’t get Northrop alive—”

“Northrop is a hired gun,” David said. “He won’t give up without a fight, I can tell you that right now.”

“We need to try.”

“I always try,” David said. “That I can control. I can’t always control what happens at the other end.”

They followed Cameron’s cruiser off an exit from Route 70 and into the heart of downtown Washington, a small town that had seen the worst of hard economic times. They pulled in off a side street before a two story-motel that contained approximately twelve rooms, six on each floor. Two Pennsylvania State Police cruisers were tucked in the alley beside a convenience store next to the motel. A car junkyard was on the other side of a chain link fence behind the store and motel. Six state troopers got out of their cars to meet Cameron when she climbed out of her cruiser.

David pulled in to park across from her cruiser on the other side of the alley.

“He’s in the third room from the right on the second floor,” one of the troopers told them. “He took a woman up there about a half an hour ago. She’s a known prostitute. He must have picked her up in the bar across the street.” Seeing the gold police shield on David’s chest, he asked him, “Do you have a warrant to pick him up?”

“Right here.” David patted his chest.

“Then let’s do this.” Cameron was already putting on her bulletproof vest. Bogie and Officer Brewster had the back of the deputy chief’s cruiser open and were putting on their equipment. Mac opened up the back door of David’s cruiser to let the German shepherd out.

“Gnarly, come,” David called out to him after opening up the rear compartment of his cruiser.

“Is that a dog vest?” Mac asked.

“A bulletproof dog vest,” David said. “After the last few times, I decided it was worth the investment.”

“He’s not an official K-9.” To Mac’s surprise, Gnarly stood still while David strapped the vest on across his back and secured it around his midsection. The vest was black with “Spencer Police” stenciled across the side straps in gold bold block letters. The vest even had a section that covered his chest and back across his hips.

“He still needs to be protected,” David replied. “Archie said he can’t come with us anymore unless he wears this.”

“Do you have a badge in that box, too?”

With a wide grin, David took a police badge, still wrapped in plastic, out of the box and unwrapped it. The badge number was K-9-1 “Consider him your partner.” He clipped the badge onto the vest.

Mac and Gnarly exchanged glances. “First partner I ever had who drank out of the toilet.”

“Admit it, the three of us work well together.” David thrust a ballistic vest toward Mac. “Suit up.”

“Aren’t you going to put it on me with all the love and tenderness that you just gave Gnarly?” Mac asked.

David shook his fist in Mac’s face. “Here’s your love and tenderness.” With a chuckle, he took off his jacket to put his own vest on.

Mac took off his winter jacket and slipped his arm into the vest. At his feet, Gnarly sat with his chest thrust out. Before him, he could see Gnarly taking on a whole different attitude—from kleptomaniac German shepherd to a serious K-9 going on duty. He had seen it happen before. Gnarly seemed to sense serious situations and knew when to stop goofing off. The vest amplified it. Staring up at Mac, Gnarly was waiting for his partner to take the lead.

“Be careful out there,” Mac told him. “This guy is a professional killer.”

His eyes trained up at Mac’s, Gnarly licked his chops.

Mac picked up an assault rifle and checked the cartridge. “Let’s get him, partner.” With a pat of his hand on his thigh, Gnarly fell in beside him to join David over at Cameron’s cruiser, where the officers from the Pennsylvania State Police and the Spencer Police were meeting. Two Washington County Sheriff Deputies had joined them to be kept in the loop.

David let Cameron take the lead since Northrop was in her territory and she was familiar with the layout. “Since he’s got a woman with him, he won’t be looking out for us,” she said. “I suggest we move as fast as possible. He’ll be at a disadvantage if we catch him with his pants down.”

They split up to take the two sets of stairs leading up to the second floor. With Gnarly, Mac hung back behind Bogie. Directly behind Detective Cameron Gates, David went up the opposite set of stairs. Eight armed officers approached the door from both sides. Since the room was on the second floor with no balcony and a frosted bathroom window that looked out on the auto junkyard behind the motel, they concentrated on capturing him through the front door.

After insuring everyone was ready to move, Cameron banged on the door. “Lincoln Northrop, this is Pennsylvania State Police with Police Chief David O’Callaghan from the Spencer police department. We have a warrant to take you back to Spencer, Maryland, for questioning in the murder of Nicholas Fields. Open up.”

A woman uttered a high-pitched screamed from inside.

“Northrop, open up now!” Cameron yelled. “You have until the count of three, and then we’re coming in after you. One … Two—”

Before she could count off three, a gunshot blast blew a hole through the door.

“That door’s coming out of your budget,” Cameron told David.

As a single unit, Cameron, David and the officers barged inside to find a screaming naked woman hopping up and down on the bed.

“Where is he?” Cameron demanded to know.

Too hysterical to form words, she pointed to the bathroom. Bogie kicked in the door and they charged inside. Mac and Gnarly ran into the room to meet David and Cameron running out of the bathroom.

“He went out the bathroom window,” Cameron said while running past. “He jumped into a dumpster that’s under the window. He’s making a run for it. How good is Gnarly at tracking?”

Spotting a shirt on the floor, Mac picked it up and showed it to Gnarly. “Let’s go find him.”

Gnarly was still getting the scent when Cameron took a call on her radio and reported. “He’s in the junkyard.”

Keeping the shirt for his scent, Mac took Gnarly out of the motel room and ran around to the back.

In his radio earbud, Mac could hear David giving orders to the officers while they reported sightings of the hired gun. Without the benefit of the radio, having only his nose to depend on, Gnarly broke into a run as soon as they stepped through the gate. “Gnarly’s got a scent,” Mac reported into his radio while following Gnarly’s barking as best he could. In the middle of the night, and with only the benefit of his LED light, he was unable to keep track of where Gnarly had taken off to. The black and tan German shepherd had instantly disappeared into the darkness among the piles of crushed cars piled up like Leggo pieces and others compressed into cubes, with still others waiting to be demolished.

Not wanting to give away his position to the professional killer, Mac tried to call out to Gnarly in a low voice while listening for the dog and to the voices on the radio.

“Anybody see him?” David asked after a long moment of silence on the radio.

The answers were negative.

“Mac, how about Gnarly?” David asked in a low tone. “Does he still have a scent?”

Not hearing or seeing Gnarly anywhere, Mac replied, “I think he lost it. He’d be barking if he still had it.”

“He’s got—” David broke off with a cry of pain followed by a curse.

“David!” Mac cried out. His call was mixed with others from Cameron and the other officers searching.

“Where is he?” Bogie yelled is a hoarse voice.

Off the radio, Mac could hear a fight around a stack of flattened trucks. He ran around the column to find David and Lincoln Northrop wrestling on the ground. David was fighting to pin the man, who was naked from the waist up, while keeping him from grabbing his baton or other equipment on his belt.

“Hold it right there!” Mac shouted while aiming his rifle at them. “Police! You’re under arrest!”

When David jerked around to see who had come to his aid, Northrop took advantage of his dropped guard to kick David’s legs out from under him. As quickly as David went down, Northrop drew a knife from a sheaf he had on his ankle. In the swift movement of a trained killer, he grabbed the police chief, who was struggling to keep away from the knife, pulled him to his feet, grabbed hold of him around his shoulders, and pressed the point of the knife to David’s throat.

“I don’t think so!” Northrop said.

“There’s no way out.” Mac kept his rifle aimed at him.

“Bad news for your chief,” Northrop said in a low voice. “If I don’t get out of here, neither will he.”

Mac could sense rather than see Bogie, Cameron, and the rest of the officers arrive. Some broke off to take positions surrounding their captive. While taking stock of the situation, Mac spotted David’s rifle lying on the ground a few feet away. Northrop must have knocked it out of his hands when he jumped him.

Seeing them closing in, the killer yanked back David’s head to press the blade more tightly against his throat, right against his jugular. All he had to do was slice it open and David would be dead in a matter of minutes.

“Tell them to back off,” Northrop ordered David.

“I can’t do that,” David said through clenched teeth.

“Do it!” He pressed the blade against his neck. “I swear! I’ll kill you now!”

When Mac saw David flinch, he yelled, “Wait!”

“Shoot him, Mac!” David ordered.

“Shut up!” Northrop shouted into his ear.

“No deal!” David said. “Mac, kill him!”

In the dark corner around the column of cars off to his side, Mac could see Bogie, hiding behind a truck, taking aim with his rifle.

“I’m not fooling around,” Northrop said. “If I don’t walk out of here, neither will he.”

Bogie caught Mac’s eye.

“I’ve got the shot,” Mac heard Bogie say.

Mac could see that David had heard him through his earbud.

“Drop the knife, Northrop,” Mac said, “or this won’t end well.”

Northrop chuckled, “You order everyone to drop their guns and let me walk out of here, or he’s going to be bleeding all over his white shirt.”

David said, “Kill him. Kill him now.”

“No!” Mac yelled.

“I told you to shut up!” Northrop jerked David back several feet.

“Damn!” With a shake of his head and a frown, Bogie fought to regain his shot.

“You got until the count of three for all of you to back off!” Northrop shouted while glancing around at the officers who had taken position around them. “I’m going to start cutting. One…”

He pressed the knife against David’s throat again. David closed his eyes while fighting to pull Northrop’s arm down from where he had the blade pressed against his throat.

Mac saw a movement up at the top of the pile of cars. He was at least twelve feet up.

How did he get up there?

He crouched down low in Northrop’s blind spot.

“Two!” Northrop yelled.

Gnarly sprang.

His front paws landed on both of Northrop’s shoulders. A hundred pounds of fur and teeth slammed onto his shoulders and back while he dug his teeth into the back of the killer’s head.

David yanked the knife down and away to free himself while Northrop dropped to the ground. After rolling away from the man intent on killing him, he grabbed his rifle and, in one smooth action, sprang back up onto his knees and fired at Lincoln Northrop, who was determined to not go out alone. He had his arm up in mid-air to strike at the dog who had taken him down.

David shot off two rounds through Northrop’s back and chest. From a few feet away, they blew holes right through him.

Mac ran up to roll Lincoln Northrop over. There was no hope of him living. “Damn!” Mac cursed at the loss of the connection back to Senator Palazzi.

David was still climbing up to his feet.

“Are you okay?” Mac heard Cameron ask David.