Betrayal with Murder (A Rilynne Evans Mystery, Book Three) (21 page)

BOOK: Betrayal with Murder (A Rilynne Evans Mystery, Book Three)
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Rilynne was actually surprised just how much he seemed to know about the case. “Actually, we don’t believe she had anything to do with the death of Detective Mifflin,” she said. “The information she’s been giving Chief Wooldridge is actually not related to the case. Well, not directly at least.”

She watched the panic settle over his face as Wooldridge said, “Melissa has been telling us about the circumstances surrounding her decision to go through with this scheme.”

“Well, she’s a criminal,” Mr. Roberts replied shortly. “I imagine she’ll say anything to try to weasel her way out of the charges she’ll be facing. She’s always been a manipulative little thing, that one.”

“It’s true that her choices do diminish her credibility, but fortunately there’s more than enough evidence to substantiate her allegations. You see,” he said with a victorious grin, “while making sure that you visit numerous hospitals will help to keep red flags from being raised, it doesn’t do anything to hide a situation that has already come to light. Melissa may not have been willing to press charges at the time, but she’s more than willing to now.”

“It’s been almost two years.” He had a smug grin on his face, but it was faltering. “There isn’t anything you can do to me, even if those stories were true. It’s not my fault the bitch is clumsy.”

Wooldridge crossed his arms, his fists balled up tightly. Every cop has one thing they’re truly passionate about, and domestic abuse was his. “The statute of limitation for battery in Wisconsin is three years, Mr. Roberts.”

The smile vanished completely off of his face, as he appeared to be running through things in his head. “She’s been gone for nearly two years now, and I spent the majority of the time traveling for work the year before. If memory serves, she only injured herself bad enough to warrant a trip to the hospital once during that window, and I don’t believe it was even that serious of an injury.”

“Just a few bruised ribs. But here’s the thing,” Wooldridge replied, leaning toward Mr. Roberts, still seated in his chair. It was a posture Rilynne knew all too well, having observed several of his interrogations. It was the same move he made anytime he knew he had someone cornered. “If the most recent occurrence took place within the last three years, it’s possible to file charges for the entire length of your marriage. That means every single time she checked into the emergency room, and some of those were quite serious.”

Roberts stood up so fast that the chair fell backward behind him. Rilynne was sure he was going to take a swing at Wooldridge, but instead he made a motion toward the door. “I don’t have to sit here and listen to this crap,” he muttered. He only made it a few inches before Wooldridge blocked his path.

“You know, you actually did me a favor by showing up here,” he said. “As soon as I saw the hospital records last night, I had an arrest warrant issued. I was planning on picking you up as soon as we got back, but it looks like you saved me a trip.” Wooldridge nodded to Byman who stepped forward, pulling Roberts’ hands behind his back. “After you made your big entrance, I made a call to have the warrant revised to include extradition.”

“You can’t do this!” Roberts’ yelled, struggling against the handcuffs Byman had slapped around his wrists.

Rilynne stood up and said, “Actually, we can. I would suggest separate transports for him and his wife, though,” she said, turning to Wooldridge.

“My thoughts exactly,” he replied, staring smugly at Roberts. “Can you hold onto him for a few days?” he asked.

Byman seemed almost amused by the situation. Rilynne was sure he had seen more excitement over the past two days than he had in entire span of his career. “Of course,” he said smoothly.

Though the exhilaration from Roberts’ sudden appearance distracted her, as soon as she walked out of the office and saw Sarah sitting in the interrogation room, she was met with the same internal struggle.

Rilynne waved to Nick, who looked almost like a child in a candy shop as he watched everything going on around him, and stepped out the front doors. She started walking down the street, not paying attention to where she was going, though she wasn’t the least bit surprised when she wound up in front of the clinic twenty minutes later.

“You must really like this place,” Ben said as she walked into his room. “You just left here. I thought you’d surely be at the station for the rest of the night.”

She dropped herself heavily down into the chair and kicked her feet up on the bed.

“What happened?” he asked, the light tone in his voice vanished and was replaced by one far more serious.

Her head was in a fog, though the words seemed to flow freely. “They’re giving Sarah a deal so she’ll give them the location of Christopher’s journals.”

“Are you all right with that?” he asked. The look on his face, combined with the note of disgust in his voice, said that he wasn’t.

“I thought about it on the walk over here, and it wouldn’t surprise me at all if he had committed other crimes before this. I want to know, no matter how bad it is. Honestly, I think it might make me feel a little better if he had done something before we got together, though I can’t explain why.”

“It makes sense,” he reassured her. “No one likes to think about someone close to them keeping something so big hidden. It takes a little of the weight off if you know you weren’t the only one to miss it.” There was something heavy in his tone that struck her as odd, but she didn’t bring it up. She was still unsure if he had overhead her conversation with Christopher, and didn’t want to risk entering into that conversation if he had. Not just yet.

“You aren’t a closet criminal, are you?” she asked, trying to lighten the conversation.

“Well, I tried to be,” he joked. “Nicole decided to rat me out, though.”

Rilynne chuckled. “As long as you don’t have any actual skeletons in your closet, we’re good. I’ve already hit my quota for dating psychopaths.”

The grin on his face, along with the red shade creeping across his ears, sent goose bumps down her spine.

“Dating, huh?”

Chapter Eighteen


I
t was so nice of you to offer your house for this,” Julio Vega said as he sat down in the seat next to her. “I can’t believe there’s only two months left before he’s here.”

“How are you feeling about it?” she asked, handing him a beer from the cooler at her feet.

He took it from her and drained nearly half of it in one swig. “Terrified and excited all at once,” he replied honestly. “I had a dream last night that I had just brought him home from the hospital, and I put him down in the car seat so I could sit everything else down, but when I turned back around, the car seat was empty. I searched everywhere for him, but he was gone.” The look on his face said the thought of it was still terrifying.

“That’s completely normal,” a kind voice came from just behind them. Rilynne turned around and nearly fell off her seat when she saw Lori standing beside her, Kim clutching her hand tightly. “I was so scared when I left Kim at daycare the first time because I was terrified I wouldn’t be able to pick her out of the crowd when I went back after work to get her.”

“What are you doing here?” Rilynne asked as she jumped up and wrapped her arms around her. “You should have told me you were coming in. I would have picked you up.”

“We were actually in Dallas visiting my mom, so we drove down. I knew you were having the baby shower today, so I thought I would bring by some stuff that I still had from when Kim was a baby.” She motioned to the six large gift bags sitting behind her.

“Wow,” Rilynne heard Julio mutter from just over her shoulder. She turned and found him wide-eyed and apparently speechless.

“Forgive my manners, or lack there of,” Rilynne said. “Julio Vega, this is a very good friend of mine, Lori Sibrian, and this little one down here is Kim.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Julio said as he extended his hand. “And you really didn’t have to bring anything.”

“It’s my pleasure,” she responded. “I’ve been holding onto this stuff until I had someone to give it to, and I couldn’t think of anyone better.”

Julio glanced over to Rilynne, apparently unsure how to respond.

“Kim is adopted, also,” Rilynne said, giving him an understanding glance. “Lori was actually called out to a scene where a young pregnant woman had been shot. After she passed, Lori adopted the baby. I told her how great it was that you were adopting the son of your fallen friend.”

That was the official story, but not the true one. Julio had actually had an affair with his best friend Shane’s wife, resulting in the pregnancy. When Shane found out and confronted his wife, Jane, she killed him to keep his silence. The detectives decided to keep the affair under wraps because if it had gotten out that Julio had an affair with the wife of a fellow officer, he would have faced a good deal of fallout from the other officers. Jane agreed to list Shane as the father on the birth certificate, so to the rest of the world, it appeared that Julio was just adopting his best friend’s son.

Rilynne left the two of them deep in conversation as she lugged the heavy bags to the gift table near the house. After setting them down, she grabbed a handful of beers and walked over to Matthews, who was standing over the smoking grill.

“Quite a turn out,” he said as he flipped the sizzling patties. “I honestly was expecting to be the only man here when you invited me, other than Julio, of course. You should have seen Katy’s face when I told her we would be going to a baby shower. I swear she said ‘we’ close to a dozen times before jumping on the computer to search for the perfect gift.”

Rilynne chuckled as she handed him one of the beers in her hand. “Well, I’m going to go mingle. Care to join?”

Matthews looked around at the crowded back yard before shaking his head. “I’ll stay here and take care of the food,” he said.

Although he had certainly come out of his shell quite a bit over the last several months, he was still relatively timid when not working. Rilynne had taken it as a personal challenge to change that.

She hadn’t taken more than two steps away from the grill when she was stopped again. “I have to say, this is much better than I expected,” a warm, familiar voice came from just behind her right ear.

“You’re making a habit of showing up late to my parties,” she said without turning around. “I was actually beginning to think that you weren’t coming at all.”

“I would never have heard the end of it if I didn’t show,” Ben said as he reached around her and took one of the unopened beers from her hand. “I just got stuck on a call for a case I’ve been working on. Some people just don’t want to get off of the phone.”

“I know how that is,” she replied. “It’s your day off; what case are you working on?”

He gave her a look that she hadn’t seen before, but changed it before she could make out exactly what it was. “It’s a case I’m looking into for a friend,” he said coolly.

She wanted to push him further, but decided to save it for another day. “So I heard through the grape vine that news of your injury last month has made its way around the forensic community, and you’re now an even more desired speaker than you were before.”

When she turned around to face him, she found a giant smirk resting on his face. “I like to think it’s because of the work that went into identifying the plant trace that led you where you needed to go, and not actually the fact that I ended up getting myself shot.”

“I’m sure that’s it,” she said sarcastically. “Though it might also have something to do with the fact that you were able to deliver a perfect shot to the heart while being shot yourself. Wilcome’s still talking about how impressive it was.”

Ben shrugged off the compliment like he did every time someone mentioned it. Though justified, she knew he was still uncomfortable with the fact he took a life. “Wooldridge suggested that we do a joint speaking arrangement, going over the entire case at the detective’s conference,” he went on. “I think he’s hoping to get more detectives interested in following the advances in forensics themselves, instead of relying on the knowledge of their departments forensic team. He’s also really going to push collaboration between labs. I’ve never spoken in front of anyone other than forensic specialists or students before. It’ll be interesting.”

Rilynne was less than excited about the idea, but she didn’t mention it to him. If the case were laid out, she would most certainly be included in it. She hadn’t entirely gotten past the idea of being married to a man who turned out to be a murderer without seeing it. Although no one who had met Christopher thought any less of her for it, the same would surely not be said for the other detectives who would study the case.

This was only worsened when his journals had been discovered in a safety deposit box a few days after his death, which dated back to shortly after he turned eighteen. They only had to make it about halfway through the first one before finding something startling.

After starting his freshman year of college, there had been a string of student disappearances. The students, three in total, vanished over a two weeks period, just prior to Thanksgiving. By the time their families reported them missing, their rooms had been completely emptied out, and all traces of them gone. To the authorities-though they happened so close together-it merely looked like college had been too much for them and they dropped out.

Christopher’s journal told a very different story.

He had run into the first victim, an overweight boy in one of his classes, as he walked back to his dorm room after a night of partying. Christopher asked him if he wanted to go to an after party across campus, and the boy agreed. As soon as they were deep onto the secluded path, Christopher struck him on the back of the head with a large rock. He then proceeded to beat him to death before burying him just off of the path. He took the boy’s keys, and as soon as his roommate left for class, he packed up all of his belongings and tossed them in several dumpsters across town.

He wrote after the murder that he had never felt such a thrill and wanted to experience it again when he hadn’t been drinking.

He only waited five days before ambushing a girl out for a jog on that same path as he walked to class early one morning. Instead of bludgeoning her, he tied her to a tree and slowly strangled her. He wrote that he brought her close to death eight times before finally killing her.

The final victim, a girl he had seen crying in the hall two days before, nearly escaped from him when he snuck up on her. The close call, along with the increased security on campus, made him decide to take a break from his ‘pleasurable activities.’

After that, he lived a relatively clean life until faking his death and murdering Mifflin, although those urges were always there. He wrote several times about seeing someone on the street and thinking how easy it would be to drag them off and how amazing it would feel to watch the life leave their eyes.

The thing that worried Rilynne most about the journals, though, was what he could have written about her. She hadn’t even considered the idea until hours after she agreed to drop the charges against Sarah in exchange for the journals. By then, it was too late even if she wanted to change her mind. She knew, though, that even if he had included her abilities, it was unlikely to be taken seriously. If anything, it would only make him look even more unstable. To her relief, though, he had written very little about her at all. He only made reference once to ‘Rilynne’s secret’ and stated that he would have to be very careful so she didn’t discover his.

“I’m sure Wooldridge will enjoy that,” she said as she took a swig out of her own bottle. “He considers you a bit of a celebrity. It was really great of you to agree to consult on the case.”

“You know that I’d do anything for you,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her. “Even come to a baby shower.”

“Food, beer, and friends,” she said, looking around the yard. “I’m not seeing the downside. There’s even going to be a cake.”

“What kind?” he eyed her curiously.

“Your favorite,” she replied with a smirk. “Red velvet.”

“How’d you know that was my favorite?” he asked, the curiosity clearly visible on his face. “I know for a fact that isn’t anything we’ve ever talked about.”

She smiled at him before starting toward the large group at the other side of the yard. After taking several steps, she turned back to see him still standing in place.

“I’m a detective,” she said playfully. “It’s my job to know these things.”

 

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