The Trophy Exchange (31 page)

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Authors: Diane Fanning

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #General

BOOK: The Trophy Exchange
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She

s got to find something. No matter how good a mask a psychopath creates, there

s always a peek behind the curtain somewhere.


We still have a lot of people who weren

t reached on the first round of calls.


Gimme some of those and I

ll get busy.

For the n
ext few hours Lucinda and Ted worked the phones getting more of the same. Then, Lucinda called one of Lily Spencer

s neighbors on Peakland Place.


Lily is a lovely woman,

the neighbor said.


You were living there when her family moved in, weren

t you?


I certainly was. That must

ve been
thirty
years ago by now. Well, maybe not quite that long but definitely more than
twenty
years ago.


Do you recall where they lived before that?


Recall? I never knew. That was the only problem I ever had with Lily.


What
do
you mean?

Lucinda asked her.


I asked her. I asked Lily point
-
blank about where she used to live and she wouldn

t tell me. I don

t know what she was thinking. It couldn

t have been all that dreadful

her husband was a doctor after all. But she wouldn

t tell me, and yet she wanted me to sponsor her for our garden club. Now, how could I do that? I d
id
n

t know where she came from. I d
id
n

t know who her people were. I couldn

t very well recommend her for membership without knowing that, now could I?


And you

ve never found out?


Never did. That

s most peculiar, don

t you think?

After the call, Lucinda returned to the conference room and related the substance of the conversation to Ted.

What secret could the Spencer family be hiding, Ted? What

s going on here?


Maybe you should drive over to Lynchburg and have a long talk with
Mrs.
Spencer.


If she won

t tell a good friend, I don

t know why she

d tell me. But it

s worth a shot.


Maybe it has nothing to do with Evan Spencer. Maybe it

s something unsavory in his father

s past
?”


I thought about that but he

s a doctor. If he did something bad enough that the whole family wanted to hide their past, he

d have lost his license in some state or another. If he did that, how could he get hospital privileges at Virginia Baptist? He might avoid jail time but if his license were jerked, it would be public information. The hospital had to have done a background check.


Maybe it

s time to call the hospital,

Ted said.


Maybe it

s time we formed a task force,

Captain Holland said from the doorway of the conference room.


Captain, my week

s not up,

Lucinda objected.


I got a courtesy call from the publisher of the paper. He says they

re running the serial killer angle in tomorrow

s edition.


Did you ask him to sit on it for a couple days?


Yes I did, and for my efforts, I got a little speech about the right of the public to know and then he told me they

re running it on the front page above the fold. We need to form a task force tonight.


Captain, please, just a few more days.


Lieutenant, it would be in the department

s best interests if you placed calls to the detectives in all the jurisdictions involved. I

ll follow up with their superiors. It would be best if everyone thought this was your idea. I want it to be a done deal before we have to start fielding media phone calls tomorrow morning.

Lucinda wanted to object but she studied the firm set of the
c
aptain

s jaw, saw the unwavering determination in his eyes and knew this was not a battle she could win. While she considered options, she was vaguely aware of the telephone ringing and heard Ted taking the call. Lucinda looked at the
c
aptain and nodded her agreement to his plan.


Good. That is your new priority, Lieutenant. Let

s get on it.


Excuse me, Captain,

Branson interrupted.

With all due respect, sir, I think we may have an even higher priority.

The
c
aptain swiveled his head in Ted

s direction. His displeasure cratered deep lines in his face.

Explain yourself, Branson.


That call was from the doctor

s receptionist. She said that it might not be a matter for concern. It does happen from time to time. He doesn

t always book a return flight until he

s had time to get on the ground and assess the situation
,
b
ut under these circumstances, she thought I

d want to know.


Know what, Ted?

Lucinda asked.

Ted inhaled deeply.

She just got a call from an airline confirming Evan Spencer

s flight to Rwanda tomorrow morning

his one-way ticket to Rwanda.

 

Thirty-Seven

 

No one needed to say a word. They all knew this flight created a dramatic shift altering the dynamics of the situation.

My office
,”
was all the
c
aptain said. Lucinda and Ted trailed behind him down the hall. They all took their seats in silence.

After a moment, the
c
aptain said,

I hate this. I hate it when the suspect forces our hand before we

re ready.

He grabbed his phone and stabbed in an extension number.

Reed, this is Holland in
H
omicide. We

ve got a situation and we need your help.

He paused.

Yes
,
it is urgent and it

s the Kathleen Spencer case
. We need warrants to search the house and arrest the husband
.

He listened with a furrowed brow.

No, Reed, I do not think my investigators are jumping the gun. Our only suspect has a one-way ticket for a flight that leaves for Rwanda in the morning.

A smile of satisfaction spread across the
c
aptain

s face.

Fine. You want to come down here or you want us to go up there?

The captain hung up the phone and said,

He

s on his way. But he

s none too happy about it.

Reed strode into the room firing questions before he took his seat.

Spencer was not in the country at the time of his wife

s murder, was he?


No,

Lucinda said.

We suspect he hired someone to kill his wife.


You have any proof of that?


No, but I

d bet if we had a search warrant, there

s a good chance we

d find evidence on his computer or in his papers or on his bank statements or in his phone records.


Do you have any proof of his connection to the other murders?


We have a forensic sketch from an eyewitness. We took a six-pack to her and she picked out Spencer without hesitation.


I hate eyewitnesses. You got any DNA or trace evidence?


We have fibers from a pair of work gloves. We need to specify them in the warrant. We have traces of latex, too, but Spencer

s a doctor, so
―”


Irrelevant. What about DNA?


The lab is processing DNA from the last scene now.


What about comparative sample from the suspect?


I

ve got a beer bottle,

Lucinda said with a glance to Ted.


O
kay
. I caught that, Lieutenant. What

s going on between y
ou two? What are you not telling me?

No one said a word. Holland scowled at his two investigators.


O
kay
, Branson, what is the lieutenant hiding?

Reed asked.


Reed!

Lucinda said.

I

m not 100
percent
certain that I have Evan Spencer

s sample.


Not 100
percent
certain?


Almost certain.


Don

t make me dredge up that tired old horseshoe analogy, Lieutenant. Almost? What the hell does that even mean? Where

d you get this alleged sample?


From the trash can behind his house.


Oh great, Lieutenant, that puts us in a nice gray, muddy area. You couldn

t wait till he put the trash out to the curb, could you?


I know we

ll need to obtain biological samples with a search warrant in order to confirm any DNA profile for court.


So what if you

re wrong, Lieutenant?


I know it

s a gamble, Reed. But what are the consequences? If we act and I

m wrong, we

ll have a
PR
mess to clean up
.”


And maybe a legal mess, too, Lieutenant. If you

re wrong, the good doctor could sue and probably make it stick.


But if I

m right and we don

t take immediate action, our only suspect leaves the country tomorrow morning. He won

t have a whole lot of incentive for returning, now will he?

Reed

s shoulders slumped.

I hate this,

he said.


My words exactly, Reed,

Holland added.


But it looks like we have no choice,

Reid said.

Let

s get busy. We

ve got some search warrants to draft.

 

At the Spencer house, Charley sat on a living
-
room chair reading the latest Lemony Snickett
book
. Kara and Ruby sat at the kitchen table with a pile of coloring books and a mountain of crayons.

The telephone rang.

I

ll get it,

Charley said. She picked up the phone in the hallway.

Hello.

No response.


Hello? Hello?

Still nothing. Charley hung up the phone.


Who was that, Charley?

Kara asked.


Nobody.


Must

ve been a wrong number.

Fifteen minutes later the phone rang again. Charley answered and then put down the receiver.

Another wrong number,

she shouted to Kara.

When the phone rang ten minutes later, Charley rolled her eyes and trudged over to pick it up. This time, someone was there.


Chaaarr-leeeee,

a voice whispered.

Charley slammed down the phone, but before she could get back to her book, the phone rang again.


Talk to me, Charley,

the voice whispered.

Charley slammed the phone down. It rang immediately.


Charley, what

s going on?

Kara asked.

The phone rang again.


I don

t know,

Charley said.

The phone rang a third time.


You want me to get that?

Kara asked.


No,

Charley said grabbing the receiver
on
the first trill of the fourth ring.


Don

t you know who I am, Charley? Didn

t you see me in the house? Don

t you know I killed your mother?


You
’ve
got the wrong number,

Charley shrieked.

Kara rushed into the hallway.

Charley, what

s wrong?


I gotta call the police lady.

She reached into her pocket and fished out Lucinda

s card.

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