Daddy's Little Killer (32 page)

I was missing something, his trigger
maybe.  Or perhaps ... "Dear God," I murmured.

Carrie's eyes widened.  "What?"

I let the calm, therapeutic mask slide into
place.  "I keep feeling how terrible this was for you in
waves, Carrie.  I'm so sorry."

She was mollified, while my heart tried to
claw its way out of my chest.  Could that be the missing
piece?  Was my perp trying to relive a past event?  If
so, which one?  With the woefully low body count and absence
of any evidence that there had been other murders, I hit a
wall.

Unless.

The list of missing girls popped back into
my head.  More missing than assaulted and set free.  They
were like shooting fish in a barrel.  Natural instinct favored
the fight response.  It wasn't uncommon for women who followed
orders and became passive to suffer from incredible feelings of
guilt that crippled them due to a misguided belief that they had
consented by not fighting.  I wondered if Carrie was one such
victim.

"You know, Carrie, handling the situation
the way you did, following his orders and not putting up a fight
saved your life.  I believe this man wanted to kill you, but
only if you resisted in a very specific way."

"Like that other girl, the one they found in
the Elegiac River, right?  My parents thought it had to be the
same guy who attacked me.  The police said they'd look into
it, but they never found him.  They showed me pictures,
thinking that I might be able to identify him.  Since I never
saw his face, that wasn't possible, but even the photographs didn't
seem right."

"In what way?"

"He was very tall," Carrie grew distant
again, reliving something I suspected she never hoped to do. 
"Not muscular, but big.  Does that make sense?"

"I believe you.  What about those
pictures seemed wrong?"

"I remember seeing the measuring thing on
the wall.  None of them seemed quite the right height. 
Is that important?"

Salvatore Masconi's vital statistics flashed
through my head again.  Date of birth.  Hair color. 
Race.  Weight.  Height.  He was five nine, a hundred
forty-five pounds.  It was evidence of his innocence as far as
I was concerned.

But Carrie wasn't done talking.

"Mom and Dad got frustrated after about a
year with no progress.  That was when they hired somebody to
look for that guy that was accused of killing the girl from
Darkwater Bay."

My stomach revolted.  Maya's theory of
the crime swirled.  What if they had been a duo committing the
murder aspect of the crimes?  Kelly.  Varden.  The
attempted abduction in D.C.  Hairs on the back of my neck
bristled.

"Did the private detective help?"

"Yeah, even though he never found the guy
either.  He's been sort of looking after me since I followed
Candy to Darkwater Bay.  He's done his best to help her too,
but I think Candy has only tried to ... well ... you know."

"Seduce him?"  Ugh.  Kelly and
Varden were beyond troll-like, not to mention, they didn't fit
Carrie's description of the very tall, somewhat lean assailant.

"Yeah, but I don't think Johnny would ever
do anything like that." 

The dreamy gaze collided with my sagging
jaw.

"Johnny?" Charlie's tone sharpened to a
point.  "As in Johnny Orion?"

"Yes!  Do you know him?"

I didn't know what I wanted to do first,
kill him or vomit.  One thing was certain.  Orion was
toast.  I'd see to it personally, whether David Levine and the
entire FBI was watching or not.

Chapter 30

"Change of plans." 

Our exit strategy from LaPierre Bistro was
less than graceful.  If Charlie hadn't blocked me into the
booth, I would've shot out the door at the speed of light.  As
it was, I had a hard time resisting the compulsion to climb over
him. 

"Helen, what do you think this means?"

Orion's a lying sack of
feces for starters
.  "He has withheld
information, vital information, for the very last time," I
snarled.  Whatever patience I had left snapped, evaporated
into the infamous city fog.  "Not only that, but he acted like
he has no idea how far this thing has gone.  Fourteen
slaughtered girls my ass.  He knows damn well they were
survivors of this guy's sexual assaults.  I bet he knows
exactly how many women
weren't
found that are potentially victims of similar
crimes."

"You mean, murder victims?"

I gave a curt nod.  "Where are Adams
and Thieg?"

"I told them we'd call when –"

"Get them on the
phone.  I want Orion arrested.  Tonight. 
Right
fucking
now."

Charlie hopped to and made the call while I
paced the sidewalk.  Adrenalin seemed to be the cure for my
lingering hangover.  My energy boiled to the fore.

"Are we still heading out to the Bennett
farm?"

"Preferably before they get Orion in
cuffs.  I don't want to see him until I've got all the
evidence I need."

"You don't think ... Helen, is he the
guy?"

"We'll know soon enough, I suspect. 
After he's locked up, tell Adams and Thieg that I want Candy
Blevins picked up, I don't care if they have to beat the truth out
of her known associates, she's coming in for a chat post
haste."

"We'll do." 

He muttered into the phone while I jerked
the door open on his car, parked curbside in front of the
bistro.  My cell phone had immediately been deposited between
the wall and cushion of the booth when I sat down almost an hour
ago.

Hell.  Neither one of us thought to ask
Carrie if she knew where Candy was after the coup de grâce, the
bombshell that put an entirely different face on the
investigation.  It didn't matter.  Adams and Thieg could
follow up with her later if need be.  I suspected that given
Candy's psychopathy ...

I groaned.  "Her psychopathy. 
Maya's theory of Gwen's murder.  Candy Blevins could be the
accomplice, the smaller, weaker person who used a garrote like
tool!"

"And we've just bumped up the status of the
location on the Blevins girl to priority one, as soon as Orion's
locked up," Charlie spoke his final directive into the phone. 
"Things are happening fast.  Gotta go.  We'll check in
soon."

The journey to the Bennett farm was mostly
silent.  If Charlie asked questions, I didn't hear them. 
My mind was occupied working out the theory of the crime.  I
knew that Brighton Bennett's cause of death was exsanguination, if
Riley Storm could be trusted at all.  Orion couldn't have
always had a partner.  Meeting Candy at the time of her
alleged assault could've been the moment of critical change, where
two people who should've never met found each other and shared
sinister goals.

So what really happened the night Gwen died?
Had Candy become jealous? Figured out that Johnny was spending all
his time with one of the survivors and killed her? Orion could've
shown up, found her dead, dismembered Gwen ... but the rape
happened first. It fit, but then it couldn't.

"Jesus."

I was sure Charlie didn't respond.

He navigated slowly up a long driveway that
wound beside the Elegiac River.  The distinctive fishy odor
told me what my eyes couldn't see.  Yes, it was dark and foggy
in patches, but not so bad that the dark sentries looming around us
could be mistaken.  I pondered the trees, their placement, if
the circumstances of Brighton's abduction reflected similarities to
Carrie Blevins account.

The modest farmhouse at the end of the
driveway was lit by a single beam shining through a window on the
west side of the house.  I couldn't make out much, but it
certainly didn't appear to be more than a modest dwelling,
certainly not the home of a successful organic farmer.

A curtain fluttered at the sound of
Charlie's sedan pulling up beside the house.  A dog barked,
not in warning, a friendly sort of "come pet me" greeting. 
The light on the back porch cast a halo onto wood that had seen
better days.

Giant Harlan Hartley soon filled the door
frame.

"Vinnie's passed out.  Come back
tomorrow."

I was halfway to the door.  "Mr.
Hartley, I'm afraid that's not going to be possible.  We need
to speak to Vinnie now.  We've wasted enough time waiting for
him to get back to Darkwater Bay.  If you want us to find the
man responsible for Gwen's murder, I need your cooperation."

"I've been here all along.  If you were
so hot to catch this guy, you could've talked to me the day she was
found."

I silently cursed Orion again.  If
someone had been forthcoming, I could've learned more about Gwen by
hour eight.  "I apologize for that, Mr. Hartley.  The man
who found Gwen Tuesday night neglected to mention that she had
other family, extended or otherwise."

"I heard it was Orion."

Inside, I smiled.  That was not a
friendly accusation.  "You're correct, sir.  He claimed
that he was a close friend of the Bennett family."

"Yeah, well I reckon he used to be. 
That died with Gwennie."

"May we come in, sir?"

He stepped aside with a grudging huff and
gestured to the kitchen table and chairs.  While the room was
neat and spotless, the furniture had seen better days.  Old
chrome chairs, several with cracked vinyl that had been taped with
duct tape were positioned neatly around a fifties-style matching
table.  The edges of the Formica were cracked and
chipped.  The cupboards and cabinets were plywood, painted
white.  The plumbing in the sink was in need of repair; a soft
plink from the leaking faucet punctuated the silence.  I
wouldn't have guessed Gwen grew up in such a dated home, based on
the staggering contrast of her house in Nightingale.

"Have a seat.  I can brew some tea if
you like."

"We're fine Mr. Hartley.  I'd prefer
that we commence with the reason that Officer Haverston and I have
come here.  We need information about Gwen."

"She didn't have an enemy in the world."

Wrong.  "Mr. Hartley, if that were
true, she would still be alive.  Her murder wasn't an act of
love.  It wasn't random either.  I'd like to know about
her normal routine first."

"She got up, went to work every day and came
home at night."

"You're Vinnie's uncle on the maternal side
of the family, yes?"

"If that means his mama was my sister,
yes.  You could say that."

"Forgive me, but I find it unusual that
Vinnie would be raised by a cousin after Frank Bennett died,
instead of his remaining uncle.  She couldn't have been very
old at the time she took on such a serious responsibility."

"She was twenty-four, older than some
parents who give birth to their own kids.  Vinnie wanted to
live in the city.  Frank named her guardian in the event of
his death.  Weren't nothin' fishy about it."

Charlie tiptoed his way into the
conversation with some trepidation.  "How long did you know
Gwen?"

"Well, let's see.  My sister and her
husband –"

"Which Bennett was he?  Pardon the
interruption," I said.

"Eugene.  He was a couple of years
older than Dennis."

"And where is Dennis now?"

"Dead.  Like Frank, like Eugene. 
Can I finish sayin' my piece?"

I nodded.

"Gene and my sister got married later in
life.  They had Vinnie when they were in their early forties,
and had the misfortune of a fatal car crash when he was still in
the hospital."

"For?"

"Born about a month premature.  So
Frank was Gene's next of kin, and the way the farm was set up, the
brothers all agreed years ago to take on the responsibilities of
the others, should something happen to one of them.  That's
how Vinnie came to live here."

"With Frank and his wife, Gwen's
mother."

Harlan shook his head.  "She died when
Gwen was about four years old.  She had the sugar diabetes,
and her doctor didn't want her havin' kids at all.  They never
regretted Gwennie.  Frank did a fine job raising that
girl."

"I'm sure he did," Charlie said.  "How
long did Gwen work for Danny Datello."

The ruddy face darkened.  "I won't have
you smearing Danny's good name.  He's been practically part of
this family and done more than anybody else to look after Frank's
family after he passed on."

"It was merely a question,
Mr. Hartley.  We're trying to establish Gwen's routine in a
little more detail than
she got up, went
to work and came home
.  I suspect
that the person responsible for her murder might've stalked her and
learned her routine before she was approached."

"Danny hired Gwen about six months before
Frank died.  Cancer.  Everybody knew it was coming, and I
think Frank and Danny made a pact to make sure Gwen and Vinnie
wouldn't want for anything after Frank was gone.  Danny
oversaw the trust Frank set up, and manages the finances for the
farm to this day."

I needed to veer the conversation away from
Datello, as much as it annoyed me to do so.  I was certain he
had nothing to do with Gwen or Brighton's murders, outside getting
a little street justice for Brighton.  Misdirected as it was,
the intentions were appreciated by me in particular.  The
system fails.  Believe me, I get that.

"What about Gwen's friends, her
relationships?"  I asked. 

"I wouldn't know about that.  She was a
private girl, and never talked much about her personal life."

"Vinnie would know more since he lived with
her, correct?"

"You'd have to ask him."

"Thank you," I interpreted as an offer that
wasn't intended.  "We'll wait here while you wake him."