The Beholder, a Maddie Richards Mystery (33 page)

Maddie smiled. “Like you said, it worked. Steve, there’s no way around it; I’ve got to take you in. The stakeouts you mentioned have orders to arrest you on sight. You’re better off turning yourself in.”

“After that will Steve be able to go home with me?” Linda asked.

“He’ll have to make a formal statement. We’ll need your statement, too.”

“And then we can leave?”

“You’ll be able to leave after your statement, Steve probably not until tomorrow. We’ll need to check your story. It’ll take part of tomorrow to do that.”

Chapter 49

Maddie got back to the Embassy Suites about the time the sun was coming up. Linda had gone home and Steve had been held, pending the verification of their statements.

Maddie’s list of suspects was dwindling fast. Dr. Knight had the unshakable alibi of being in the Marriott the night his wife was killed, and this alibi for Gibbs would also smash her theory about Dr. Knight using Steve as his surrogate killer. Folami Stowe’s boyfriend, the trucker, had a solid alibi, so did Mrs. Knight’s trainer Rex Bronson.

The names now at the top of her revised list included Gary Packard, Dinkins, Brackett, and Cornelia Gibbs, but they were all weak, super weak. The only thing linking Gary was he being a suspect in the killing of his wife and the murders having started the month after he moved to Phoenix, but his dead wife’s bra size didn’t fit the picture. The basis for suspecting Dinkins and Brackett were nearly nonexistent. As for Cornelia Gibbs, the circumstantial stuff concerning her was the strongest. All the victims physically lined up with Cornelia’s beautiful sister, Steve’s mother. Cornelia was without an alibi for Steve had not been home with her on the nights of the killings. And the trail that led to her started with her enduring jealousy of her attractive sister, Steve’s missing mother, including the matching bra size.

Beyond all that, if Maddie was right about the Beholder being connected somehow to the department, her unwritten list could also include all the other cops past and present. Even those she had blocked out and refused to consider, like her own former partner, Jed Smith. He certainly liked women, and as the boys say, Jed was a tits man. But Maddie refused to believe he was guilty of anything more than thinking about KC with his little head instead of his big head.

But if she was wrong, Jed knew where her mother and Bradley were in California.

***

“Hi, Mom. It’s Maddie.”

“Madeline Jane. It’s early, dear. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Mother, I just wanted to find out which place Brad had picked to go today. He told me last night he couldn’t decide.”

“Well, that boy of ours was still going back and forth this morning. Then he saw an advertisement for Universal Studios. That did it. We’re going there.”

“Mom, Jed needs to head back here right away.” Maddie chose her words carefully. “Something unexpected has come up.”

“With the case dear?”

“Not exactly.”

“But how will we get back?”

“When the case closes, I’ll drive over. For now, just enjoy yourselves and have fun.”

***

Five minutes later Maddie had Jed on the phone. “Can you head back here tomorrow, leave there around noon?”

“I guess so. Is anything wrong?”

“Remember when you called me out of Gary Packard’s house and told me that I fit the Beholder’s profile?”

“Are you finally thinking Packard’s the Beholder?”

“He’s still a suspect. Yes.”

“What convinced you that you may be a target?”

“I wouldn’t say that I’m convinced, but you know Gary saw a strange car around my home. That’s why I had you take my family to California. Remember?”

“You still believe the Beholder’s a cop, don’t you?”

“You were always a solid detective, Jed. Tomorrow, around noon I need you to head back here. After dark I want you to sneak into my house so you can cover my back while I’m at home. You’ll need to get in without anyone knowing. The department would have my badge if they found out I was involving you. I can’t use cops because, yes, more than ever, I think the Beholder is either a cop or someone connected to the department in some manner.”

“Shouldn’t I head back right away, tonight?”

“I didn’t want to stay home alone so I checked into the Embassy Suites on Thomas Road. I’ll check out in the morning and go home after work.”

In the event Jed is the Beholder, tomorrow night will give him a perfect opportunity. He’ll be inside my home and I’ve let him know that no one will know he’s there.

“It’s a six-hour drive,” Jed said, “but what about your mom and Brad? You won’t want them around. This guy takes his victims in their homes.”

“Don’t worry about them. I talked with mom. I’ll drive over after the case and get them. It’s okay if they stay where they are for weeks. Bradley will never get tired of the beach. So, what time can you be here?”

“I’ll need two hours to pack and say goodbye, then about six to drive. I’ll take my relatives to breakfast in the morning before I leave. I don’t want to just run off. Let’s say, I get there by six.”

“That’ll be fine. I’ll talk to you later. Don’t call me. I’ll call you late tomorrow afternoon so we can talk about how we can get you inside my house.”

Maddie felt rotten even thinking of Jed as a suspect, but just a few days ago she would have bet he would die before leaking Beholder information to KC.

Chapter 50

By noon, the story Steve Gibbs had told had been verified. It was solid. He was released and a statement issued to the media thanking him for coming forward in response to the person-of-interest warrant.

Linda Holstein had seemed like a good woman. With the arrest issue behind him, Steve’s life appeared to be coming together. Maddie was happy for him, for both he and Linda.

***

“I’m on it every spare moment I can find,” Dr. Ripley told Maddie when she called again to check on KC’s autopsy report. “Steve being gone reminds me how much he really does around here. And it will be that way for a while; I’ve given Steve a week off before he has to return to work. And here’s a news flash, he’s going to move out of his aunt’s house. He and Linda Holstein are getting married.”

“I know I’m making too much out of getting your report on KC’s autopsy,” Maddie said, “but I just don’t know where to go next on this case.”

“Two bodies were found last night in an abandoned van,” Dr. Ripley said to further explain his delay. “Illegals left to bake in the sun in a locked truck, a nasty way to die. That ate two hours I had reserved for getting that report done. You know how delays keep happening. But I should have KC’s protocol finished by six or seven. I’ll call you when it’s close.”

Maddie had told him she was staying at the hotel. She said that since her mother and son were on a little vacation, she was treating herself and saving some driving time. She would never let anyone know that she was afraid. She had told Jed, but only to bait him. Being afraid was a part of herself she doubted she would ever share. Not even at the risk of being found sprawled on a bed, stripped of her femininity like KC and the others.

Lieutenant Harrison approached Maddie. “I need every theory you’ve got,” he said, “along with whatever supports them.”

“Lieutenant, we’re doing this dance every few hours.”

“And we’ll continue to do it until you clear this case.”

“Give me until tomorrow morning, eight sharp, in your office. And how are you doing, Adam?” she asked.

“Don’t change the subject, Sergeant.”

“I’m not. Okay, I am, but I’m truly concerned about you.”

“I’m doing okay. Really. I had dinner with two old friends, probably the only people I know who aren’t cops. Don’t get into that habit Sergeant. Develop a life off the force. Friends. Places to go and I don’t mean cop haunts.”

“That’s good advice. Thank you, Adam. Tomorrow morning then?”

“Eight sharp, not one minute past.”

“Yes, sir.”

The power structure of the city had its claws in Maddie while she sat grasping at straws. Lieutenant Harrison was demanding something solid. Chief Layton wanted it from the lieutenant, the mayor from the chief and so on right up to the media and out to the citizenry. Even the governor was likely mixed in somewhere yelling about how all this Beholder shit was damaging tourism. That’s the way this crazy cop business worked. Pressure. Pressure. Pressure. She had to turn nothing into something, and she only had hours to perform the miracle.

She burned up the rest of the day with routine things that had little or no chance of meaning much, like the stakeouts and the paperwork on Steve Gibbs. She even perused the reports on the hotline calls.

She thought about returning to the hotel and checking out. Steve’s following her had messed up her hotel plan because the report on his being brought in had to show where he had been taken into custody. So, her plan to only let the suspects know her location and then wait to see who showed up was scuttled. Then again, if her theory was right about the cop connection, the Gibbs report meant the Beholder likely already knew where Maddie would sleep tonight.

By the time Maddie got to the hotel, she decided to stay the night. She would be better able to cover her own security in a hotel suite that had only one door and was on the third floor. Besides, she was well past checkout time so the hotel would charge her for tonight whether or not she stayed.

By five she had talked herself into facing the truth about KC’s autopsy. Getting it would be procedural, not a breakthrough. Dr. Ripley was being kind, humoring her because the victim had been her friend. Still, she called him again after getting back to the suite.

“I’m still at it,” he said gratuitously, “along with a couple of other things that must get done. If I have no more interruptions, I should wrap it up by seven or eight. Do you still want it tonight or will tomorrow morning be okay?”

She considered saying tomorrow then decided that perhaps she’d be able to clear her head once she knew that no magical clue would leap off the page of the report.

“Tonight, doctor, let’s stay with tonight. I appreciate what you’re doing.”

“A horrible crime like this one requires extra from all of us. You want to call me around seven? Or, should we just meet up in the morning.”

“The morning will bring a whole new batch of distractions, for both of us. Let’s stay with our plan.” She told him about staying at the hotel. “It’s only a short drive down to your place.”

“Your hotel is on my route. I can drop it by.”

“Oh, no, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t ask. I offered. It’s no problem really. I’m going to see a friend who lives near the Arizona Biltmore Golf Course, so I’ll drive up Twenty-Fourth Street. Your hotel’s right there when I cross Thomas. Which room are you in?”

“310.”

“I’ll buzz your room when I get there.”

“Thanks Rip.”

“No problem. You get some sleep.”

Maddie walked through the front sitting room and into the bedroom portion of the suite. There were two beds. She decided to sleep on the one next to the wall air-conditioning unit. She dropped her police-issue weapon on that bed and her clothes on the other. After taking a shower, she considered trying to sleep for an hour or so while waiting to hear from Ripley. Then her cell rang.

“Sergeant Richards. Dr. Ripley. I’m in my car outside the hotel. I have my final on Carson. I’ll bring it up. Do you want me to wait a few minutes? Give you some time?”

“Come on up. I’ll be ready.”

Maddie stepped into her slacks. The T-shirt she had pulled on after showering was baggy. It would have to do. She pushed her feet into her running shoes and tied them, glanced in the mirror and ran her hands through her hair.

A moment later she heard a light, double knock. She moved to the window next to the door and parted the drapes. Dr. Ripley stood near the rail holding his briefcase.

She opened the door. “Come in, Doctor.” She stepped back. “I really appreciate this.”

After Rip shut the door, he put his briefcase on the coffee table, opened the flaps on its broad flat top and pulled out a file jacket. “Here you are.”

Maddie moved close and took the doctor’s final on KC from his hand. While doing so, she picked up a light smell of the peppermint he used on his masks during autopsies.

“I never had Lieutenant Harrison in for one of my autopsies before. It was kind of him to substitute for you.”

“You’d never met the lieutenant before? Oh, please sit down.”

“I can wait a minute or two to let you glance at the report, in case you have any questions. No, I had never met the lieutenant.”

Maddie started scanning the report, and then a seemingly unrelated thought streaked through her at the pace of a cold shiver. The fragrance she had smelled at the top of the stairs in Abigail Knight’s house that first night, she had thought it lavender, but she had been reminded of it when she smelled the lingering trace of peppermint when Rip handed her the report.

“Do you have any questions?” Ripley asked, distracting Maddie from her thoughts.

“No. It looks pretty clear. Oh, excuse my manners. I’ve got a couple of cokes and a tub of ice, would you like a soda. I don’t have anything stronger.”

But Maddie didn’t move, instead she flipped to the next page of the report, only pretending to read, her mind racing at the speed of a computer. Ripley’s build was similar to Steve Gibbs’s and he knew Steve always wore black. He could have allowed himself to be seen in the Diaz neighborhood to help point us toward Gibbs.

“Sergeant, let me get the cold drinks while you finish looking at the report?”

Oh, my God. The cold, sure that fits. The air conditioner in Stowe’s apartment had still been low after the killer left. The building manager had turned the thermostat warmer before the cops arrived. At the Knight murder scene, Ripley had heard Bill Molitor and I discussing the low setting on the air conditioner in Abigail’s bedroom. After that, the rooms of the later victims were not cold when the police arrived, and there were no fingerprints on any of the thermostats. We had assumed the victims had trusted the person they had let in. A doctor would be trusted, a medical examiner!