Kane leaned over the lists. “If Verna Hughes was in town, she’d have been there with Cory, her brother. We have two sightings of the pair of them on both nights and they seem to hang out together. Verna is a very dominant personality and has issues with the other cheerleaders. She doesn’t try to hide her dislike of people.” He looked up at Jenna. “They live with their mother and Cory’s father left not long after they had adopted Verna. It’s not a stable environment, they could slip nicely into our suspects’ profiles.”
“I’ve found one moving around as well.” Jenna tapped the photograph. “Dale Collins, the quarterback. Remember him? He runs the kiosk at the gym for his aunt on cheerleader practice days.” She ran her finger down the lists of people the other players remembered being with on the night of the murders. “He was there and then not mentioned. He could’ve slipped away, murdered Becky, and then gone back to his friends.” She combed fingers through her hair. “He was chatting to Marlene Moore and Laurie at the gym if you remember.”
“He’s the quarterback.” Rio leaned back in his chair and grinned. “If he looked like a dog, the girls would still think he’s a catch. The few I’ve known have shared the love around. He could have been with any number of girls at the festival. He’d be very popular.”
“Yes, I do remember high school.” Jenna sighed. “The vehicles seen at the crime scenes or involved are all different. If we could just find a single link, we’d catch patient 124.”
Kane smiled. “By process of elimination, we’ve cut the list down to five possible but I still don’t trust Stan Williams. He would have been floating around town. He has images in his apartment taken at night during the festival.”
“So, a shortlist of six.” Jenna sipped her coffee. “All hearsay.” She stared at Kane. “Let’s keep digging. I want to know everything about these people, family, parents’ occupations, and what grandma cooked for dinner last Sunday. Get at it.”
Fifty-Two
A cool evening breeze drifted through the window of his truck as he slid into a space opposite Aunt Betty’s Café. His heart picked up and raced at the sight of Vicky Perez sitting in the window, staring at her phone. He’d offered her supper but she’d never eat her last meal and after his girl had finished with her, Vicky would be unrecognizable. He scrubbed both hands down his face and then slapped himself. Terror and excitement mingled, like an evil twin tearing him in all directions. A voice in his head kept nagging him that watching his girl kill was wrong, but he pushed it away and embraced the insatiable hunger that roared its approval.
Becoming his girl’s puppet had happened slowly and now he was trapped in her web, like a black widow’s willing mate waiting to be eaten. She both scared him yet fascinated him and he craved to be with her. The murders had dragged him closer to her and excitement thrummed through him whenever she was near, but did he trust her? Would he be her final victim? He’d seen her eyes when she killed, always hungry for more. An ice-cold shiver ran down his back and chill bumps crawled up his arms. He shook his head. “No, I don’t trust you.”
Worried by speaking aloud she might hear him even though she was miles away making the barn ready, he looked around and then pulled out his phone. He’d been late on purpose and deep down inside wished Vicky hadn’t waited for him to arrive but his girl had set the scene and he had no choice but to act it out. He stared at the cheap phone, which only contained Vicky’s number. After watching the cop shows on TV, he understood how easy it was for the sheriff to obtain phone records and he’d insisted on using a burner for this part of the plan. He’d called Vicky to make a date and they’d spoken often over the last twenty-four hours. He’d explained about his stalker and the need to keep their meeting secret. He smiled. It had been so easy to convince the girls to do his bidding. They were just like his girl said they’d be, willing to go with him just to humiliate him—but they never got the chance.
He buzzed up his window and made the call, watching Vicky through Aunt Betty’s window. “Hey, Vicky, sorry for not calling sooner.” He let out a breath on a sigh. “My mare decided to drop her foal and I wanted to make sure she was okay. I’m outside in the red pickup but I’m not dressed for a date, being in the barn and all.”
“A foal? Can I see it?” Vicky stared out the window and then waved madly. “I see you.”
His girl had told him about Vicky’s infatuation with horses and the plan had worked. He looked at her eager face and smiled. “Sure. You can admire her while
I go get cleaned up.”
“It’s a filly?” Vicky headed for the door. “You’ll be keeping her?”
He chuckled. “Sure. I like fillies. Hang up now, before a truck mows you down crossing the road.” He disconnected, pulled out the battery, opened his door, and slid the burner into a drain.
As the door opened, he noticed her staring at the plastic sheeting covering the seats. He grinned. “I’m guessing you’re wondering about the plastic? The seats were steam cleaned and are a little damp. I didn’t want you getting all messed up.”
“You’re so thoughtful.” She climbed into the passenger seat making the plastic crackle and creak. “I can’t get to the seatbelt.” She frowned.
He shrugged. “It’s only a mile or so and most of that on backroads, you’ll be fine.” He gave her his best hangdog expression. “I was trying to make it nice for you. Darn carwash was busy so I used my ma’s steam cleaner.”
“It’s okay.” Vicky squeezed his arm. “Maybe we can have supper in the barn? Cookies and milk will do me just fine but remember I must be back at Aunt Betty’s Café by eight-thirty or my pa will go nuts.”
He nodded. “Yeah sure.”
Unable to believe his luck, he headed down Main and onto the highway before turning off Stanton to follow the backroads to his family’s ranch. The barn hadn’t been used for years and sat solid but abandoned some ways from the house. No one but his girl and him went there, it was their secret place. He turned on the radio and hummed to the tunes. Beside him Vicky stared at him as if mesmerized. They bumped along the dirt road, rounded the corner, and his headlights picked out the barn. He pulled up outside and taking a flashlight from his jacket pocket slid from behind the wheel. “Mind your step now.” He aimed the flashlight at the door and then heart pounding with anticipation, rolled it back.
“It’s awful dark in there.” Vicky grabbed his arm and leaned in close.
“Here, you take the flashlight.” He waved her through the door. “There’s a lamp just inside, I’ll switch it on. Head down the back past the hayloft, the mare is down there on the left.”
“Okay.” Vicky’s voice trembled but she moved ahead of him.
Vicky hadn’t walked more than a few yards into the barn before his girl sprang out of the dark, with a scarf wrapped around her face. It happened so fast that in the next second, his girl was on Vicky’s back. They fell hard onto the dust-covered floor in a tangle of limbs. Moments later his girl had a cloth pressed over the stunned girl’s face. The flashlight spilled from Vicky’s hands and a beam shone over them, sending huge shadows across the barn wall. A chemical smell filled the air and he covered his face and backed away. The couple rolled on the floor grunting. Vicky was fighting back but as soon as she weakened, his girl knotted the cloth around her face. It seemed to take forever before Vicky finally succumbed and fell silent.
He found the lantern inside the door and switched it on. Dust motes danced like golden rain in the pool of light. He stared at Vicky; her clothes were covered in dust and sticks of hay stuck in her hair. He dragged his gaze away and looked at his girl. “Is she out?”
“I think so.” His girl pinched Vicky hard and when she didn’t respond, she rifled through her pockets and came out with her phone. She stood and walked toward him. She popped open the phone, took out the battery and SIM, and dropped them into a bucket of water. “The chloroform will evaporate soon, stay outside, we have time before she wakes up.”
He stared at Vicky, lying so still. “Too much will kill her.”
“Not enough and she’ll wake up too soon. I practiced on my dog. A few drops knocked him silly for a good five minutes.” His girl removed the scarf, tied it around her waist, and leaned in close. “We’ll have time to tie her up and drag her into the stall I’ve set up for our fun. This time I’ve stapled plastic sheeting all around the walls and over the ground.” She gave him a satanic grin and retrieved a hunting knife from the bench. “Do you like this?”