The Chilling Spree (17 page)

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Authors: LS Sygnet

Tags: #secrets, #deception, #hate crime, #manifesto, #grisly murder, #religious delusions

BOOK: The Chilling Spree
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I threw up my hands.  “That’s it,
Johnny.  I’m done trying.  Crevan, if you want my help on
this case, you know where to find me.”  I glanced at
Johnny.  “As for you, when you decide you can talk to me
without accusing me of being the town whore, maybe I’ll be willing
to talk to you again.”

His fingers manacled my arm.  “Don’t
go.”

“I can’t stay on the roller coaster. 
You strike.  You apologize.  I try to get closer. 
You push me away.  I give you space.  You get mad at me
and treat me like I’ve betrayed you when all I’ve tried to do is
give you what you wanted.”

“Helen, I know.  I’m sorry.”

Crevan slinked out of the room behind me and
closed the door.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked. 
“There’s something else going on with you, Johnny.  I can’t
fix it.  I can’t help you fix it if you won’t tell me the
truth.”

“You kissed me,” he whispered.  “It did
something to me that I…”

“Didn’t like?”

“Can’t quite process.  You were there,
begging me to be with you… touching me… and then you went
away.”

“Johnny, I wanted
you
with me
tonight.”

“How would I have handled it?”

“We won’t know until you try, and if you
can’t trust me at all, you’ll never handle it well.  It won’t
matter if you get your memories back.”

His fingers tightened on my arm.  “Did
anything happen tonight that you left out?”

I nodded.  “Madden asked me to have
dinner with him – before he found out that the victim is his
nephew.”

“And?” teeth gritted, jaw muscle started
leaping.

“I won’t go unless you come with me.”
 My fingers tiptoed down the buttons of his shirt.  “I
love you, Johnny, but until you really believe it, hearing the
words won’t change a damn thing.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 15

In the trailer of the second truck we
examined, Johnny found the bloody flathead screwdriver that Maya
had described as a potential murder weapon.  As she suspected,
the tip had been filed razor sharp.

“Don’t suppose we’d be so lucky to lift
prints off of this,” Johnny said while the state crime lab bagged
the evidence.  After a brief argument with Johnny over
evidence continuity, they planned to deliver it to Forsythe’s lab
for all the testing.

“If we do, I’d lay odds that they’re going
to match Fulk Underwood’s prints.”

“You think he’s guilty of murder, Helen?”
Crevan asked.

“I think that if he’s innocent, someone is
going to great lengths to make him look guilty as sin,” I
said.  “Devlin and Chris were both positive that we’d find
hard evidence that implicated him.  Given the temperature
yesterday and the fact that Underwood is the last person to claim
he touched Madden’s equipment, it might well be fact that he’s the
killer.”

“Because the body temp wouldn’t have been
sustained in this cold trailer.”  Johnny shivered and rubbed
his hands together quickly.  “Getting the equipment into the
backstage area late should’ve drawn some attention.”

“It might’ve, if Underwood wasn’t known for
slacking off on the job,” I said.  “Because of that, people
might’ve been accustomed to seeing him come in with the equipment
at the last minute.”

“On the bright side, we’ve got the actual
crime scene now,” Crevan said.

“You and Briscoe need to find these women
that Underwood allegedly met Sunday afternoon,” Johnny said. 
“If they can alibi him between five and seven, that should give us
a better idea of his involvement in all of this.”

“What I can’t conceive is why Underwood
would kill someone and put the body in equipment he knew he was
responsible for, knew would be in use later, knew would point the
finger at him as the guilty party.  He’s really not a stupid
guy,” I said.  “Unless he’s counting on his intellect saving
him.”

“I don’t follow that one,” Crevan said.

“He’s too smart to do something like that,
ergo, he’s being set up.  Isn’t that what you’re thinking,
Doc?”

“Exactly.  Meanwhile, if this
personality disorder business that the military used to throw him
out of their club is in fact an element in this case, Underwood
finds a whole lot of validation and secondary gain in being the
innocent man falsely accused.”

“We’re not gonna find anything more than
circumstantial evidence, are we?” Johnny asked.

“At this point, I’d say no.  Unless we
can find Underwood’s alibi girls and find their word beyond
reproach, I’m afraid we’re not going to have much more information
now than we had when the crime was discovered.  Underwood
keeps pointing me at Madden.  Madden and a bunch of other
people keep pointing at Underwood.  Meanwhile, we’re not any
closer to figuring out who killed Kyle Goddard.”

“Are we ruling Madden out as a suspect?”

“No, Crevan, we can’t do that until we get
the other side of the story from Theo Goddard,” Johnny said. 
“If he confirms that it was Madden’s fear for Kyle’s safety that
caused the family rift, maybe then he’ll fall lower on the suspect
list.”

“Right,” I said.  “The photo I showed
him was from Kyle’s driver’s license.  He looked very
different in drag.  I suppose it’s not inconceivable that his
sexual encounter was with Madden, disgusting as that sounds.”

Crevan rubbed his chin.  “So they’re
getting hot and heavy… maybe Goddard gets off and confesses his
true identity.  Madden goes nuts, not only because he just got
another dude off, but because it’s his blood relative.  He
snaps, picks up the nearest object and stabs the kid.”

“He hates Underwood as much as everyone else
seems to,” Johnny said.  “Maybe it’s a no-brainer to frame him
for murder.”

“It could even be that learning he’d just
has sexual contact with a man, one that he knew as a baby, was
enough to make Madden dissociative.  He could truly not
remember what happened,” I said.

“So if that’s what happened, even if it
wasn’t Madden,” Crevan carried the hypothesis a few steps further,
“say the guy freaks, stabs Goddard and flees.  Underwood
might’ve come in late to do his thing for the show.  He
figures
hell, I didn’t kill this kid.  But maybe I can pull
something off that makes Madden look like a piece of shit.

“This is excessively speculative.  We
need some facts, and we need to start scrutinizing both time frames
and see who had opportunity,” I said.

“What we really need is to talk to Madden’s
local family and see if we can get an idea what this rift is really
all about,” Johnny said.  “What did he say the younger
brother’s name was?”

“Rham Goddard,” I said.  “Don’t be
surprised if it boils down to petty jealousy, Johnny.  Scott
Madden has an enviable life in the eyes of some men.  Women
too, I’d imagine.”

He inched closer to me.  “I think we’ve
wrapped up all we can do here.  I talked to the tour
manager.  They’ve postponed the band’s next two shows. 
He said Madden is pretty freaked out about what happened and made
it clear that in no way will they leave before we’re certain that
they’ve cooperated fully with our investigation.”

“That sure makes him look like he’s got
nothing to hide.”

“Yeah,” Johnny agreed.  “So, are you
going home or back to the hospital?”

I glanced at my watch.  Creeping up on
four.  “Home,” I said.  “I doubt they’d let me in at this
hour anyway, but I feel like I haven’t slept in days.”

“Oh.”

“Would you like to come with me?”

Johnny’s left shoulder rolled.  “If you
need to sleep, I should probably just head back to my place.”

“If that’s what you really want.”

“Is it what you want?”

“No, but I’m not going to push you.”

“Do you really think that sleeping under the
same roof will make a difference in what I remember?”

“You spent an awful lot of time at my
house,” I said.  “You never know.  It might spark a
familiar feeling or two.”

“Tony said I practically moved in.”

“There are a ton of suits in one of the
closets off the master suite.  I wouldn’t expect you to feel
like you have to… well, sleep with me.”

“Could I?  Just sleep, I mean.”

My throat constricted, palms started
sweating.  “Of course you can.”

“Maybe we can really talk, Helen, without
getting interrupted for once.”

“I’d like that.”

“All right.  Let’s go home.”

I felt true empathy toward the mail order
brides of the world after I undressed and donned my typical worn,
soft sweats for bed.  It was the least sexy nighttime apparel
known to man, but I felt naked, as if I was going to bed with a man
I knew was my lover but was a complete stranger.

Johnny seemed equally stiff and
awkward.  His spine was straight, the broad muscles across his
back taut with tension.  He laughed softly when I rounded the
corner of the bed shyly and entered his field of vision.

“I don’t know what I expected, but I get the
sense that this is normal for you.”

“It was – unless I’d had too much to drink
and had to rely on you to get me undressed.”

Johnny ducked his head.  “I can only
imagine.”

“And I never complained.”  I folded the
comforter to the foot of the bed and peeled back the
blankets.  “If you’re not comfortable with this, I’ll
understand.”

“I’m fine,” he said softly.  “We never
fought over who sleeps on which side?”

A slow blush crept up my cheeks.  “No,
but then again, we didn’t spend a whole lot of time hugging the
edges of the bed either.”  I hadn’t wondered in the past if it
was his usual habit to roll to the center of the bed with open arms
with the other women from his past.  I suppose all women want
to believe that how the man they love holds them at night is
different from how he treated all who came before her.

Johnny frowned.  “Really?”

“Promise, but like I said.  I wouldn’t
be offended –”

“I’ve never been much of a cuddler is
all.  I guess we’ll see what happens.”

The lights went out.  I adjusted the
flame in the fireplace to a soft, orange-yellow glow.  We lay
beside each other, staring at the ceiling for long, uncomfortable
minutes.

Johnny spoke first.  “You like
purple.”

“Hmm?”

“There are purple flowers all over this
room.”

“Sterling roses,” I said.  “You gave me
a bouquet once.”

“Yeah?  I’ve never heard of them
before.”

I didn’t jog his memory any further. 
That bouquet hadn’t turned out so well, and was the incident that I
often cited as what prompted Johnny to start digging around in my
past.

The bed dipped, and Johnny’s weight shifted
to the middle.  One large paw gripped my right hip and tugged
me into the center of the bed.  “Mmm,” he sighed.  “This
feels better.”

“You’re only saying that because I told you
this was how we slept together.”

Our eyes met.  “No, Helen, I wouldn’t
lie to you.  This feels like something that has been missing,
maybe longer than my poor zapped memory.  Am I right?”

“We were so close to fixing everything when
I went off and did something stupid again,” I whispered.  “I
hate myself for causing your injury, Johnny.”

“I get the distinct impression that you’re a
high maintenance sort of girl, Doc.  Not that I’m complaining,
but I sure hope you’ve decided to think before you jump into the
thick of things from now on.”

“Hopefully, I won’t be doing this job for
much longer, and the temptation will be gone.”

Johnny’s arms tightened around me. 
“What does that mean?”

I gnawed on my lower lip.

“Spit it out.  You do that thing with
your lip whenever you don’t want to tell me what you’re
thinking.  I’d rather have the truth up front and be left
scratching my head wondering why you never told me what you
wanted.”

“I didn’t plan to stay here
permanently.”

“In this brand new house you had built after
Jerry Lowe blew up the previous incarnation?”

“My goal was to come here and do everything
in my power to see Danny Datello brought to justice, and –”

“Whoa, back up a second.  Why would you
be so interested in our local thug?”

“Let’s just say I had a vested interest in
all the Marcos family going down in flames together and leave it at
that until your memory comes back.”

“So you don’t want to live here now that you
caught your number one guy?”

My fingers danced over Johnny’s shoulder and
sifted through the hair at the nape of his neck.  “I suppose I
didn’t, but that was before.”

“Before what?”

“You wormed your way into my heart.  I
could live without the job.  I’m not so sure I can live
without you.”

“Slick words, Helen.  I’m not
completely convinced you mean them.”

“Johnny, I’ve never felt the things I feel
with you before in my life.  That’s the truth.”

“I thought you used to be married.”

My face burned in the darkness.  “Yes,
that’s true.”

“And you didn’t love him?”

“No.”

“Then why –?”

“Johnny, it’s a very long and complicated
story.  I thought I loved him.  And then I learned the
truth about the man I married.  Whatever I felt, died, was
strangled by the ugliness of his lies.  And even on the best
day of my marriage to Rick, it was emotionless compared to what
I’ve known with you.”

“Which is why you’ve been by my side every
step of the way since I got hurt, right?”

“I already told you –”

“Shh, I know,” hands soothed away the
tension that suddenly bunched and tightened in my back.  “I’m
sorry, Doc.  It seems to me that it would’ve been easier for
you to stay away from me all together if you really plan to leave
Darkwater Bay now that you’ve accomplished your mission. 
Datello is in jail, awaiting trial, in a case that’s about as
airtight as one could’ve ever hoped.  Why stick around
now?”

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