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Authors: Michael Hiebert

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BOOK: A Thorn Among the Lilies
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C
HAPTER
16
L
eah was already at her desk when Chris came in with a newspaper tucked under his arm. Leah liked to get in early so she could get home early. That was the plan, anyway. Usually it never worked. She wound up getting in early and working late.
“Ever read the
Birmingham Times
?” Chris asked her as he poured himself a coffee from the freshly brewed pot on the small table beside the water cooler.
“If I had time to read newspapers from every city in Alabama, I wouldn't have no time for police work,” Leah replied.
“Well, I don't usually either, but I got a call last night after you left. Guy named Douglas Stein told me I should check out the front page of the
Birmingham Times
issue from September twenty-fourth.”
“Who the hell is Douglas Stein?”
“He was one of the looky-loos at our crime scene. Apparently, he got a better sight of the body than most others. Anyway, I went to the library and found the issue. They carry all the major newspapers going back near on three months before they microfish 'em.”
Leah took a sip of her own coffee and smiled. “I think you mean micro
film
or micro
fiche.
”
“Whatever.”
“So, what's on the front page?”
“You're gonna get excited.”
“Just show me, goddamnit.”
Chris flipped the paper open in front of her and he was right; excitement, along with repulsion, whipped through her body. “It's . . . it's our body.” She looked up at Chris expectantly.
“No, it's
a
body. But not ours. A different one.”
On the cover was a close-up of a woman's face and shoulders, the shot going down just below the neckline. Her eyes had been sewn up exactly like Mercy Jo Carpenter's had been, and at the bottom you could just see the top of a message that was written across her chest. She had blond hair, full and long enough that it went down out of the shot. At first glance she looked almost identical to Mercy Jo.
Leah read the article. When she was done, she said, “There was no mention of finding a cross anywhere on the body like we had, but the authorities may have held that back. They hadn't held back the eye stitches, though.”
“Like us, they probably weren't able to,” Chris said. “Apparently the body was found by a bunch of schoolkids. If they got to it first, the authorities may as well come up with the fact 'bout the stitchin' 'cause everyone would've known 'bout it sooner or later. Besides, they'd need a picture to canvass with like we did.”
At the time of the article, the woman was unidentified, making her a Jane Doe. She showed up in a small town about fourteen miles northwest of Birmingham called Graysville.
Welcome to Gray . . .
It was too much of a coincidence. This had to be what the psychic had meant. Leah's skin tingled.
Graysville had a population that didn't even make a dent in the size of Alvin's. They found the body in an abandoned coal mine that hadn't been used since the 1960s. During the 1950s and 1960s, Graysville's coal mines and steel mills attracted families from all over Alabama.
“Chris?” Leah asked.
“Yeah.”
“What interstate is Graysville on?”
“Uh, let me check.” He typed on his computer for a minute, and said, “Highway Seventy-eight.”
Leah sighed. “There goes another one of that psychic's clues.” She lifted the paper and scanned the article once more. The statement was issued by Daniel Truitt, the homicide detective from the Birmingham Police Department who was working the case.
Leah doubted he was still working it. Two and a half months was a long time to go without solving something. It had probably grown cold, maybe even slotted cold. Leah decided to call Detective Truitt up and ask. She didn't expect to get much cooperation, though. Detectives were renowned for not enjoying other detectives asking about their cases.
“I'm looking to talk to Detective Dan Truitt,” Leah said when a woman from the Birmingham Police Department took the call.
“One minute.”
Leah knew she was checking the board. Looking to see if he was on duty or off duty or in or out. “I'm afraid he's away for a while,” she came back with.
Away for
a while?
How long is
a while?
“Can you get him to call me when he returns? My name is Leah Teal and I am the detective from down here in Alvin.”
“Alvin. Is that in Alabama?”
“Yes, it is.” Sometimes Leah forgot how small Alvin really was.
“What's your number, Detective Teal?”
Leah gave her the numbers for both her office and her home.
“And what's this concerning?”
“It's . . . it's in regard to one of his cases. I may have a lead for him.” Leah thought this was the safest way to handle this question, and probably the most probable way of getting a response. “Please get him to call me back as soon as possible.”
C
HAPTER
17
L
eah had just gotten in the door from work when Detective Dan Truitt from the Birmingham Police Station returned her call. As usual, Abe grabbed the phone before anyone else could, and then yelled (mostly into the receiver), “Mom! It's for you!”
“Thanks,” Leah said, taking the phone from him.
“Detective Truitt here,” said the voice on the other end. “You say you've got a lead on one of my cases?”
“Thought you were away for a while,” Leah said.
“Not for people with leads.”
“Ah.”
“Which case we talkin' 'bout?” Truitt asked. “No, wait . . . Bradley Thomas.”
“What?”
“I'm guessin' which case you're gonna tell me you have something on.”
“No, not Bradley Thomas. This is from September, it's—”
“Terry McDonald.”
“No, Detective Truitt,” Leah said, losing patience. “If you'd just let me get to the point. It's about the Jane Doe you found in the abandoned mine.”
“Oh, that one.” His voice lost all its excitement. “I didn't find it. A bunch of sixth graders on a field trip found it, and boy how I wish it had been me instead. That one still gives me nightmares and it's been what? Two months?”
“Two and a half.”
“Two and a half. Wow, how time flies when you're tryin' to get those stitches out of your mind. What sort of lead do you have for me, Detective . . . ?” He trailed off, obviously forgetting her name.
“Teal. I'm from the Alvin Police Department.”
“Alvin. That in Alabama?”
Leah rolled her eyes. “Yes, not far from Satsuma.”
“Okay, I think I know where. I drive down to Mobile a lot. Probably pass right by you.”
“Yep, you probably do.” Leah was getting frustrated that they still hadn't started discussing Mercy Jo Carpenter.
“So, how can you help me, Detective Teal?”
“We found a body in one of our lakes pretty much matching the body of your Jane Doe you discovered in the abandoned mine.”
“In what way?”
“In every way,” Leah said. “I only saw the front page of your September twenty-fourth issue of the
Times
today, but it's uncanny how similar the bodies were. Right down to the stitching of the eyes. Even the patterns matched. I'm willing to bet the thread type is even the same.”
“Yeah? How much?”
“How much what?”
“How much are you willing to bet?”
“It was a figure of speech, Detective Truitt.”
“Oh. Well, tell me some things about your Jane Doe that you can't tell from our picture.”
“First off,” Leah said, wishing she had made herself a cup of coffee before taking this call, “ours isn't a Jane Doe. Her name is Mercy Jo Carpenter. We found her washed up in Willet Lake, but the medical examiner figures she was killed somewhere else and dumped in the lake afterward. The body was probably found within twenty-four hours of being killed.”
“Our medical examiner said the same thing about our Jane Doe,” Detective Truitt said. “What else?”
“Was she fully clothed?”
“I guess,” Truitt said. “She was wearing a red top that looked more like a bra with a leather jacket halfway zipped up and ripped blue jeans. She had on Reeboks that looked like they'd seen better days. Judging by her clothes and makeup, I guessed she worked for a living.”
“Worked?”
“The streets. Graysville may be small, but being a hooker is the one job that will bring in cash anywhere. Was yours a prostitute?”
“Hard to know. She was dressed more business casual in a man's shirt and a skirt that came down to her midthighs. Was there any sign the killer sexually assaulted yours?” Leah asked.
“None. That was one of our biggest surprises,” Truitt said.
“Ours too. Especially since her shirt wasn't done up properly. Tell me, did you find a cross on her anywhere? In a pocket? Around her neck? Tucked into a sock, maybe?”
“Now, how did you know that? We kept that out of the papers. It was in the left pocket of her leather jacket.”
“Yep, ours was in the top shirt pocket.”
“So, you thinkin' we got ourselves a serial, and the cross is his signature?”
“It's startin' to feel that way to me,” Leah said. “I assume for you the case has gone cold.”
Detective Truitt's entire demeanor completely changed and Leah immediately regretted saying what she just said.
“No goddamn way the case has gone cold,” Truitt said. “Just because it's taken a while to solve, I plan on solvin' it. Don't think you're gonna ride in here on your white horse and scoop up all the glory.”
“Sorry,” Leah said, backing down, “that came out wrong. I meant, I'm assumin' you ran out of leads? Otherwise, you'd be the one callin' me 'bout the serial killer connection, rather than me callin' you?”
“We still have some leads,” said Truitt. Leah could tell that was a lie.
Leah looked out at the backyard where two cardinals ducked in and out of the bare branches of her cherry trees, following each other in flight. “I think we should share what we got,” she said. “Besides, I think there's a good chance the killer lives in Alvin.”
“Why's that?”
“The soil content under her nails. It is quite unique and matches the soil and clay found in the northern valley just outside the limits of our town. I'm assumin' y'all tried to match soil samples and whatnot and didn't get any hits?”
There was a long pause. A yellow butterfly with black spots fluttered outside the kitchen window. “You're right,” he finally said, “we didn't.”
“I think the first body got dumped outside of Birmingham because the killer was scared if we'd found it too close to home we'd close in on him. Now that he's killed twice, though, his confidence is increasing. He's becoming cocky. What did he write on the chest?”
“Your victim had that, too?”
“Yep, waterproof Magic Marker. It said, ‘Justice Is Blind in the Eyes of the Lord.' I'm assumin' yours said the same?”
“Actually, no. Our Jane Doe said, ‘A Thorn Among the Lilies.'”
“Ah, a biblical quote. Old Testament. Kinda.”
“Yeah, we found it. Song of Solomon 2:2, only inverted from the original text. The
King James Version
has it as: ‘As the lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters.'”
“Interestin',” Leah said. “Wonder why the change? He's obviously tryin' to tell us somethin'.”
“You think it's a message to
us?
As in the
police,
us?”
“I most certainly do. Who else would he be sendin' it to? He's taunting us. Or he wants to get caught. But he's too organized to want to be caught. I think our suspect has a chip on his shoulder when it comes to cops.”
“Hmmm. Okay, how 'bout this? How 'bout we work this case together? I share my evidence with you, and you give me copies of everythin' you have?”
Leah quickly thought over the offer. It wouldn't hurt anything. She'd get flak from Ethan about it, but nothing she couldn't handle. “Okay, I can do that,” she said. “When can we meet in person?”
“Well, you're actually in luck. I have to be in Mobile tomorrow at three. I can stop in for lunch on my way, and we can go over things then. Sound good?”
“Sounds great. That will give me time to convince my superior I'm doin' the right thing,” Leah said.
“I have a trick for that,” Truitt told her.
“What's that?”
“Just don't tell 'em.”
“Yeah, but you ain't in an office with only two other people. Tough to keep secrets.”
“Alvin. You
sure
it's in Alabama?”
“I'll draw you a map and fax it to you,” Leah said with a sigh.
“Sounds good. See you tomorrow. Oh, wait. One last thing. Where do you want to meet?”
“Um, how about at the station?”
“Sounds exquisitely borin'. I'll be there for lunch, remember?”
“Oh, okay. And technically tomorrow's my day off, so—”
“Perfect! I suggest we go out for Texas barbecue somewhere. I'm sure you have a place in that town that serves up Texas barbecue, don't you?”
“Yes, we do. It's on Main Street, and it's called Vera's Old West Bar & Grill. It's at about the fifteen hundred block somewhere.”
“I'll find it,” he said. “I have a nose for grilled steak. So if I leave here at say, ten o'clock I should be there by just after twelve.”
“You can't possibly make it from Birmingham to Alvin in two hours,” Leah said.
“I'll be using the siren. That's what it's for. And speed zones aren't for officers of the law, for us they're just suggestions. You did say you were close to Satsuma, right?”
“Right.”
“See you around twelve-fifteen, maybe twelve-thirty.”
Wondering what she'd gotten herself into, Leah hung up the receiver and took another look at the picture in her lap. It was uncanny how similar the two victims looked. And the eyes. They were so . . . she couldn't even think of the word.
So
desperate.
BOOK: A Thorn Among the Lilies
13.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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