Murder! Too Close To Home (28 page)

“Mr. Hurst also informed me that he had only seen her a couple times after that and that he attempted to make conversation each time but had little success. Seems she was much ‘colder’ on her subsequent visits, appearing to just want to get in and out as quickly as possible. He also volunteered that since she was one of
his
customers, he noticed that most of her pickups were at night when no one was around.”

“She hasn’t picked anything up for about two weeks, even though there is something in her box right now.”

My ears picked up on this, “Can we get a look at it?”

“Not without a warrant, which I am waiting on right now,” Betty said with some excitement. “Shouldn’t take long, as I expressed the gravity of the situation, possible involvement in the murders and that the package could get picked up at any time. AP Courtney ran it over to the Judge personally.”

We were all smiles when she finished. Seemed Betty has been pretty busy lately, handling most of this end of the investigation almost totally on her own.

When we had been together lately, we were either too tired physically or too tired mentally to talk of the investigation, preferring happier topics.

Pretty much anything that didn’t concern death was high on our list.

I reminded myself once more to make arrangements for a long trip as soon as we’d cleared this case off the board, a result that I was long past being ready for.

As if on cue, AP Rand Courtney busted into the room, slightly red faced and out of breath. He smiled broadly at Betty as he walked the warrant over to her, until he saw me sitting at the table.

Although ten years her junior, Rand has had a little crush on Betty for quite awhile now; semi-ignoring the fact that she is happily married.

Betty for her part found it cute, telling him several times he was wasting his time, but with no apparent effect on Rand’s feelings. I have offered to take him out back for a lesson in manners, to which Betty just laughed. She reminded me that I have nothing to fear, as long as I kept behaving myself that is.

“I got that warrant for you Betty,” he gushed as he handed the paper to her. “Judge Miller signed it immediately once I explained the circumstances.”

“Thanks Rand; you’ve really helped the investigation.”

Grabbing up her stuff, she looked around before announcing, “Anyone wanna come?”

Frank and I got up to follow while Rand held up his hand like he was volunteering to go as we filed out of the room, leaving him standing there…poor kid.

Chapter 75

March 26, 1997

The postmaster had gone over the legal document with a fine-toothed comb.

“Can’t be too careful with our customers’ privacy, ya know?”

Tall and lanky with metal glasses and gray creeping up the side of his dark hair, he wore his thirty-year pin above his name tag like a badge of honor. After another minute he seemed satisfied, leading us to the back side of the box in question.

“Thar she is,” he stated matter-of-factly, stepping aside but watching us like a hawk to make sure we didn’t overstep our bounds.

Betty pulled on the gloves before reaching in and grabbing the package, a small box, one inch deep by six inches long and four wide.

“Should we open it here?” Betty asked while holding it as gently as one might a bird’s egg.

“We should probably take it back to the lab, let Percy open it with us, make sure we don’t miss anything.”

I got out an evidence bag and Betty gingerly placed the box inside. I then sealed it up, handing it to Betty for the trip back.

On the drive to the lab, we all speculated as to the contents of the box, dismissing every guess shortly after it came out of our mouths. We finally gave up, deciding finally to wait until we arrived at Percy’s dark abode for the answer.

We all stopped in our tracks when we entered the lab, forced to halt until our eyes adjusted to the darkness. When they did, we were stunned at what we saw before us.

In one of the pools of light in the middle of the lab stood Percy, dressed in full surgery regalia. Scalpel in hand, he was lowering it to the table to make the initial cut on…a turkey.

A beautifully baked turkey, juicy looking and browned to perfection.

“Would you like to be alone?” Betty said with a smile, getting Percy’s attention, a confused look showing briefly on his face.

“Well, hello!” he said with gusto, setting down the scalpel and pulling off his gloves and mask before coming around the table and shaking hands all around.

“To what do I owe this honor?” he asked with an owl-like inquisitive look.

“If you don’t mind my asking Percy,” I started, curiosity getting the best of me, “what exactly are you up to over there?”

“Oh, my turkey,” he answered matter-of-factly as he glanced back at the bird. “I’m practicing carving it, carving it.”

“My mom’s sister and her family are coming over for Easter. I’ve never made a turkey before, or carved one for that matter. I cooked that bird last night, brought it in for lunch, and practice.”

A thoughtful look suddenly crossed his face; “Forgot to bring a knife in though, probably easier to slice with a knife instead of the scalpel.”

He maintained that thoughtful look until I again interrupted his reverie. “What about the doctor getup?”

“Oh that,” he said with a smile, “that’s to keep my clothes clean, of course, keep my clothes clean. Wasn’t at all sure how messy it might get.”

We all laughed at that, taking several more moments to get to the reason for our visit.

“We have evidence that may pertain to the murders,” Betty said, holding up the bag. “We thought it might be good to have you open it so we didn’t miss anything.”

“Of course, of course,” he said with excitement, indicating a table off to the side of the lab. “Let’s have a look, shall we?”

Betty set the evidence bag on the table while Percy donned new gloves before grabbing a clean scalpel, then carefully slitting the shipping tape holding the box closed.

Once done with that, he carefully opened the package, revealing brown wrapping paper wrapped around an object within.

Taking great care, he lifted the wrapped item out of the box and set it on the under-lit table for closer examination. Feeling around before finding an edge of the paper wrapping, he then carefully peeled away the paper around the object until he got to the final layer. Smoothing out the paper already removed to flatten it on the table; he then resumed his task, finally revealing the object within.

We stood there staring at the exposed item, none of us knowing what to say save for Percy’s excited exclamation.

“Well, what do you think of that?”

Chapter 76

March 26, 1997

A postcard.

An old postcard laid on the brown wrapping paper extracted from the box. I couldn’t imagine the significance of an old piece of mail to our Miss Jasmine. Taking up the card carefully, Percy examined it with the trained eye of a forensic investigator.

“Addressed to a man in Park Ridge, Illinois…mailed in 1980.”

Turning it over to examine the other side, he looked it over for several moments before speaking again.

“Whoever sent this is threatening the one it was addressed to; nasty threats, nasty threats.”

I saw a slip of paper laying where the card had been earlier, asking Percy to take a look at it. Gingerly setting down the card, he picked up the slip; revealing it to be a receipt.

“A payment slip from a place called
Crime-A-Bilia
, ‘Original postcard threatening his lawyer in his own hand’.” Reading further, he looked up before saying, “It’s from John Wayne Gacy!”

Why would someone buy a postcard written by a serial killer I wondered, the idea of someone seeking out something like this on purpose being a foreign one to me.

“I know what this is,” Betty spoke up, “they call it
‘Murderabilia’…
collecting memorabilia from famous murderers. These of things sometimes go for quite a bit of cash.”

Percy glanced down again at the receipt, “$3,650…wow!”

A woman who collected murderers’ trinkets, who also didn’t have a history beyond six months ago, and who we had theorized is actually the mastermind of a string of murders. It fit; it fit extremely well, if only we had some real proof!

This woman was living amongst us, but it could be anybody.: The lady that ran the register at the truck stop, or the socialite living on the hill.

It could even be somebody we knew, and she was hiding in plain sight. We needed to flush her out, we needed bait, and this box may be it.

I thought about asking Allen to set up a stakeout on the post office, but was unsure how that would go over with the scant evidence we had on this lead. Add to that the fact that the lobby is open 24 hours a day, I was pretty sure he wouldn’t authorize that much overtime.

“Is there anything we can put in the box to track it?” I asked Percy. “Place the package back in the PO Box, see if it moves?”

A smile creeped across his face, “I actually have something like that as a matter of fact…yes I do!”

He moved off to a room in the back of the lab, returning in a minute with a white, nondescript box about a foot square which he set on the table. Opening the box, he pulled out an instrument of some type that filled his hand.

“That’s a little big to hide in that small box,” I said as I took in the electronic gadget.

Percy laughed loudly as he reached back in the box, pulling out a crystal-clear plastic case about the size of a quarter. Handing that to me, I looked inside to find a small black speck lying in a relative sea of blue sponge-like material.

“We can easily embed that in the cardboard of the box, but it only has a range of five hundred yards, and the battery only lasts a week. You think you can live within those constraints?”

“I think it’s definitely worth a try,” I answered, hoping my optimism translated into actual results. Turning to Betty, I asked if she thought her buddy at the post office would be willing to give us a heads up if this Jasmine reappears or if the package was gone.

“I think Ben would be more than willing,” she answered, her smile indicating she liked the way my thought process was heading.

“Since we don’t know when she may pickup the package, and given our workload now, I don’t think Allen would authorize a stakeout. If we know she has picked it up, and assuming she lives in the city, we should be able to pick her up with Percy’s gizmo.”

Everyone agreed that the plan seemed plausible. Percy implanted the bug into the box, re-sealing the package as good as new. Frank offered to drive Betty back to the post office to replace the box, while I stayed on to learn how to run the electronics.

The plan was for naught if she didn’t show up within the week, or if she left the city before we got a bead on her location.

I gave some thought to Frank and me covering some of the night shift on our own if she happened to show up then, but I was unsure where we could place the car that we wouldn’t stand out in the middle of the night. The plan of depending solely on the tracking bug seemed like a gamble, but one with a good chance of success, if everything came together just right.

Shrugging inwardly, I resigned myself to the thought that sometimes you just needed to keep trying things until you found one that worked. Frustrating as hell, but reality sucked sometimes.

“Ok, Master Percy,” I said as I faced the small genius.

“Explain to me how to run this new magic wand of yours. Let’s see if we can’t get this show on the road.” 

Chapter 77

March 27, 1997

Sheriff Lean McHenry’s life was looking bleak once more, his career going down the drain, and his life going to hell in a hand basket.

Pulling the ever-present cigarette out from behind his ear and flipping it into his mouth, he leaned back in his chair and dug out the now constant Zippo. Lighting the cig quickly, he inhaled longingly on the paper tube.

Holding the smoke in his lungs longer the usual, he let it out slowly in quickly repeating staccato puffs caused by the nervous tension now wracking his body.

He had spent several hours with various county officials yesterday, trying vainly to explain why his evidence kept showing up at the murder scenes.

County Council demanded an immediate audit to make sure he was not overspending his budget, the potential loss of their money overriding the threat of a continuing murder spree at that moment.

Then the County Commissioners wanted their time with him, the all-powerful elected body that was in charge of everything else besides money. Sitting in on this meeting was Prosecutor Allen Vanguard, as well as Doc Elliot, the coroner. It was not lost on the sheriff the reason for the two men to be sitting in on the meeting.

The prosecutor would be the final authority to determine if any laws had been broken. Doc Elliot was there because of Indiana’s antiquated law that stated that the Coroner was the only person that could arrest a sheriff.

That was definitely one of the lowest points in his life.

He had been in law enforcement of some kind his whole career, serving with distinction in every capacity he had ever attempted. The thought of possibly being arrested was beyond anything his mind could rationalize, and he was pretty sure he would end it all before he would let anything like that happen.

It hadn’t come to that, thankfully. Allen, for his part, had stood his ground by stating that there was no evidence at all to indicate that the sheriff had done anything criminal. But the consensus of the Commissioners was that at the very least, someone in his department had to be involved. This fact alone seemed to show a general lack of effective and professional leadership.

What, of course, went unsaid was that they needed someone to blame so that it wasn’t laid on their doorstep. Mission accomplished.

Now he was basically waiting for their final decision, a wait that they had assured him would be no later than noon today. It was currently 11:05 and the tension was building inside of him, increasing exponentially with every minute that ticked by.

He didn’t have long to wait evidently as a knock on his door was immediately followed by Jane entering the room, her face indicating something was up.

“Allen Vanguard is here, wants to speak with you.”

Sheriff McHenry exhaled the lungful of smoke he had sucked in upon hearing the knock, stamping out his butt on the gold star of his department imprinted on the bottom of the glass ashtray on his desk. His mind locked on the image created by the smashed butt that obliterated part of the star he wore with so much pride. He was unable to look away as the symbolic implications suddenly struck him, a life built on truth and honor, obliterated in a second. His heart sank further.

“Dad… you ok?” Jane asked in a smaller voice, standing by the door waiting for his order. Lean looked up, a sadness showing in his eyes.

Leaning back in his chair and nodding imperceptibly, he motioned with his hand to let the prosecutor in. Jane pulled the door open, allowing the prosecutor into the room. Starting through the door to leave, she heard, “JJ, please stay.”

Stopping mid-stride, she took a step back into the room, closing the door behind her before leaning against it for support. Her emotions were heightened beyond belief, but her face revealed only the mask of a professional law enforcement officer.

“Please sit, Allen, and tell me what the rest of my life looks like.”

Chapter 78

April 2, 1997

Frank and I had spent a couple of nights staking out the post office from behind the dumpster at the local McDonald’s. From here we could remain fairly well hidden and still watch the parking lot with binoculars.

But it had been to no avail. It had now been a week since we planted the bug in the PO Box, and our gamble had about run its course with no results.

I sat at my desk and let out a long sigh, resigning myself to the failure of this plan, thinking what our next move should be in this game of chess called murder. I had not had a dream since just after the wreck, and was now thinking maybe I depended too much on the paranormal and should just try to use my brain a little more.

The suspension of the sheriff a week ago had come as a shock to all of us, but less so when we realized it was more of a political ass-saving move by the commissioners than anything tangible. Nevertheless the action had sent tremors throughout our little universe. Confidence of
and
within the sheriff’s department was at an all-time low.

At the commissioners request, Allen had contacted the State Police once again, asking for a ranking officer to be sent down to temporarily oversee the department. Not knowing who to trust, the powers-that-be felt it better not to take any chances. Lean had taken the slap in the face stoically, leaving without a word and heading to the house.

He had remained barricaded there ever since, his only interaction with people seeming to be with the liquor store clerk.

Barry Frey had been making clandestine deliveries nightly of the sheriff’s preferred Old Turkey whiskey. Poor guy didn’t deserve that, but at this point the only solution to it was solving this case, a job we seemed to be monumentally failing at once again.

Tony Finney was recovering from his wounds, although a long stay in the hospital was his fate for the foreseeable future. He has been able to give us little information on his attacker, but it had been enough to confirm our suspicions.

He remembered a shapely woman in black, skin tight black, standing in the middle of the road. He had been dead tired, and didn’t remember seeing a gun, only hearing the noise and feeling intense pain before passing out.

Everyone so far that has seen this woman had seemed very enamored over her looks. You would think someone like that would be easier to find.

Betty and Frank arrived for a little meeting we had planned to go over the initial State Police investigation. With the continued tie-in between the sheriff’s department and the murders, and considering the current investigation into the department, Allen had removed the deputies from the Task Force for now.

Additionally, Harry had developed health problems, his heart exhibiting palpitations that his Dr. thought serious enough to remove him from active duty until they could figure it out.

Our little group was all that was left, more of a task
group
than a force. Except for being spread out thinner than we liked, we would handle it ok, a better set of partners I couldn’t have asked for.

Up to this point, we had found nothing that indicated anything but good solid police work by the troopers. As to the result of the initial investigation, all deputies and jail workers passed their interviews, background checks and polygraph tests with flying colors. It was starting to look like another dead-end.

“I’ve found an anomaly in some data,” Betty stated matter-of-factly when she had settled into her seat. “The polygraph test actually, the operator’s chart is initially hand written during the exam, which he then converted to a formal chart on the computer later on. They keep a copy of both the handwritten chart and the computer generated one in the file, as well as the tape from the machine. Problem is, there were twenty eight charts, but only twenty seven tests done according to the machine’s tape.”

“Who was the person without the tape?” I asked, intrigued.

“I can’t tell. They assigned numbers to their subjects. We were not granted access to this information in the files, we only have a copy of the files they left for Allen. It would be in the original files at Indy.”

“Probably just an oversight,” I said with some annoyance. Why is it that every step we take required going back two to find an answer?

“We still need to look at it. Allen would need to make that request to the state. Betty, can you get with him on that?”

She nodded and started to get up when Frank added a thought to the conversation.

“I got a crazy feeling about this, maybe we should talk to the polygraph operator himself. Have him bring the files down with him. If nothing else, going straight to the horse’s mouth would eliminate a step later.”

We all agreed that that would be a smart move, so Betty left to find Allen and deliver our request. I was still thinking it was probably just an oversight, but the continued targeting of the sheriff in the murders meant we really needed to turn over every stone.

Lean McHenry deserved our best effort, and we were all committed to giving it to him.

The intercom buzzed and I grabbed the handset. “The hospital just called,” Ellen relayed matter-of-factly, “Mr. Wesley is waking up. I thought you would want to know.”

Thanking her, I quickly replaced the phone and grabbed my notebook. “Wesley’s awake,” I said to Frank, who jumped up like he was on springs.

“Let’s go,” he said as he led the way out of the room. It looked like we might actually have a break, both of us jumping at the chance to bring something to a conclusion for a change.

Here’s hoping for small miracles.

Chapter 79

April 2, 1997

The now-familiar beep of the monitors was relaxing to the man handcuffed to the bed.

Jacob John Wesley, the ‘Ghost’, had been groggily coming in and out of consciousness for a few hours, feeling agonizing pain throughout his body until the next injection of pain killers.

He had been confused the first few times he had opened his eyes, not knowing where he was or how he gotten there. The chase and the resultant wreck had finally started working its way though the haze that was his memory at that moment. The realization that he was in a hospital and that he had been apprehended had finally sunk in with the glimpse of the deputy guarding him outside his room.

Coming to grips with his current situation, an insight had occurred to him through the pain and the haze.

Yes, he was caught, but he was still famous, people would want to know his thoughts. Books would be written, movies made. The ‘Ghost’ was still here, and he
was
the ‘Ghost’.

A smile spread on his lips through the pain, true happiness seeming to be achieved in his life.

A nurse entered the room carrying a tray. Through half opened eyes he saw a shapely blonde woman in a short, white nurse’s uniform and tortoise shell glasses. She was turned away, filling a syringe from a bottle. He noticed her tight ass in the white dress and wished he could say something snide as she turned around and gave him a big smile.

“Time for your pain shot, Mr. Wesley” she said in a southern drawl. Her nametag revealed her name to be
‘Jasmine’
.

“This will fix you right up.”

‘Jasmine? It’s her!’
He thought to himself,
‘his mentor’
.

Thumping the needle to clear the air, she inserted it in the IV and slowly pushed the contents into the line, taking the empty hypodermic and laying it again on the tray across the room.

Coming back to the side of the bed, she smiled down on him, informing him that “It shouldn’t be long now before the desired effects take hold.”

Still smiling, she leaned down close to his face, suddenly talking close to his ear in the now familiar, raspy whisper.

“You should have listened to me, Mr. Wesley; you should have listened to me.”

Standing up again and still smiling, she turned to leave the room.

“You all have a nice day now.”

Wesley was now confused.

“What did she mean by that,”
he wondered. The initial confusion was quickly replaced by a searing pain radiating from his arm, then traveling throughout his body. A scream formed in his throat as he tried to open his mouth to release it.

Neither the scream nor the pain would exit his body.

It felt like his veins were burning with acid as his eyes now opened wide. There was a darkness creeping into his vision that seemed alive as it quickly moved around the room.

While he helplessly watched its progress, the darkness moved closer and started to envelop him, like tentacles attaching to his soul. Before the last breath escaped his lungs, he was staring into the face of his fate.

Two red eye-like slits stared at him from inches away as the screams of a thousand souls entered his head.

“Welcome,” the apparition said, the tentacles pulling the soul from his body as his screams joined the others in eternal pain.

***

The blonde nurse left the elevator, removing her nametag as she appeared to walk nonchalantly to the locker room to change from her shift. Arriving at her locker, she pulled open the door, taking out her small bag and setting it on the bench. Looking quickly around, she removed her glasses and tossed those and the nametag into the bag.

She then unzipped her Nurse’s uniform, actually another one of the naughty costumes from her extensive closet. Letting it drop to the ground, she then placed it with the rest of the contents of the bag.

Looking up, she caught the reflection of her body in a mirror at the end of the isle, enjoying the look of the black panties on her lithe body that she choose especially for this occasion. Sighing loudly, she dismissed her need to admire her sculpted body further, reaching in the bag and pulling out a tee-shirt and sweats, donning these before pulling on the running shoes.