The East Avenue Murders (The Maude Rogers Crime Novels Book 1) (26 page)

“So you never saw him again?” Maude asked

“Well, one time I thought I saw him on the street in front of my work, but he was gone when I looked again.” Delgado said, lost in thought.

“When did that happen? When was he at your work?” Maude insisted

“Maybe a week ago. I didn’t think much about it. It had been so long ago and I might have been wrong,” the woman finished her story.

Maude and Joe looked at one another for a minute, thinking the same thought. Rosa Delgado was lucky to be alive.

“Thank you, Ms. Delgado, I think we have enough information. I would suggest you keep your doors locked and be alert to who is around your house when you come home at night. Just good safety practices for single women,” Joe said, hoping to warn the woman but not wanting to make her more afraid.

“Oh yes, I am careful,
” Delgado replied defensively.

The two detectives got off the couch and said their goodbyes, thanking the woman for her help. On the way to the car, Joe shook his head.

“You know, you said his ego would be his downfall. I think maybe you’re right.”

“Maybe.
He’s cocky, isn’t he,” Maude said. “Trailing that woman here to her house, with no fear that what he was doing might put him in the light, after hiding out for so long. That attitude might have been an indication of his mental state going south, probably doing the same kind of stuff all over the country. Those two sisters on East Avenue must have gotten caught the same way. He saw them and took over their lives.”

“
Yeah, makes you wonder how many other perverts and murderers are walking the streets every day, passing you on the corners, smiling all the while,” Joe continued, “I never much thought about what I would do in Homicide; maybe see a dead body once or twice a year. Just didn’t imagine how it would affect me, seeing them.”

“It
’s always the same,” Maude said, starting the car. “You’re never prepared for it. The way people treat each other, the way they slaughter each other. It takes me by surprise every time, after all these years.”

“Let
’s go see if we can find this guy,” Joe said. “See if we can catch him by surprise.”

The address they had for Ridge Roberts was obtained from the Phoenix police after they ran his driver license. According to the lieutenant there, Roberts lived in a ritzy neighborhood on the west side of town. Two officers had been assigned to the Texas detectives as backup
, and met with them three miles away from Robert’s subdivision. As all cops seem to bond in the search for a really bad guy, the two officers immediately became friendly with the two detectives. Since neither Robert Dawson nor Ridge Roberts was wanted for any crimes in Phoenix, the officers were loaned as a courtesy with the stipulation that any crimes committed by the man in the city of Phoenix would be treated as a jurisdiction issue.

When they arrived at the house the first thing Maude noticed was
its opulence, the in-your-face expression of wealth. An airport runway was on the property with a hangar nearby, flags flying in the afternoon breeze above the opened doors. A departing silver and white jet was rolling toward the private runway. Funny she thought, how so much could be revealed in so short a time.

Now Maude understood
how his trips across country were so quickly done, bodies carried, equipment transported. Dawson piloted his own plane. The plane departed and nothing she could do would stop it, but she made a phone call to the police department advising them to warn the FAA of a murder suspect in airspace above Phoenix. Maybe he had filed his flight plan with them.

“Maybe it wasn’t him M
aude. Maybe it was someone else,” Joe said, hoping the criminal hadn’t gotten away. “He could be in the house right now, getting us in in gun sight.”

“Drive up there Joe, pull in behind something in case
he is there and starts shooting.” Maude was getting pissed. She had chased Dawson far too long. When the car stopped, she jumped out, groaning with pain from the effort, and lowered herself behind the vehicle as she crawled to the gazebo near the swimming pool.

“Joe,” she whispered loudly “
Get those two officers positioned behind cover near the house. We have to go in.”

Nodding in response
he opened the car door and hid behind it, putting the metal between himself and the house. He motioned to the officers in the other car to get out and imitate his behavior, hoping they understood. So far the house was quiet. No sounds of gunfire or people running in and out.

The driveway was immense, circling an acre of palm trees and flower gardens whose bloom sent forth their fragrance across the light breeze. The house had three levels, the width and breadth of the structure
was larger than the entire Madison Police Department and adjacent buildings. Maude could only stare at its monstrous size, her disgust for the man she chased growing with each new insight into his gigantic ego.

“Partner, you ready for this?” Joe whispered, close by.

“Let’s go get him Joe. I sense a crime has been committed and this perp is a dangerous individual. I believe we can rationalize a need. Let’s storm it Joe, just like they taught you in the academy. Good luck, Partner, stay alive,” Maude said, moving from the shelter of the gazebo, into the closer vicinity of the house. She looked, and he was beside her. The other officers were waiting for her signal and followed, remaining as close to cover as they could, yet headed to the entry doors of the house. Maude caught their eye and motioned toward the back. The officer in front nodded, and ran for the rear of the house, his partner close behind.

“Joe, I’ll take the right, you pick up the left. If we have to use a battering
ram, we’ll need more people. I may have to shoot the lock off the door. I’ll give it a loud knock first,” she said, heading for the door.

“POLICE,” she yelled, pushing against the door, her fists slamming the wood. “POLICE,” she yelled once again, turning the knob, she and Joe pushing against the heavy double doors.

The door on the left that carried the door knob swung open so quietly that at first Maude was unaware it had moved. She carried her weapon ahead of her, moving fast, looking for danger ahead, but seeing only giant contemporary furniture and large woven rugs worth more money than she had paid for the furnishings for her entire home.

She motioned to Joe toward the left side
, and she took the right, searching with all her senses for Dawson. The house was too quiet. There was no music or television noises from the upstairs level, no sounds at all came from the many rooms. Maude left the place where she stood, hiding behind corners with her weapon extended, both hands on the butt of the gun.

“POLICE,” she yelled again, her voice echoing in the high ceilinged rooms. On and on
they searched through the house, but found no one there. Both detectives and one of the officers that had come through the garage entrance separated and began a wider search on Maude’s signals.

The house had elevators and
she used the convenience to go to the top level, the last unsearched part. Walls along the elevator exit held pictures of juvenile attractions. A large collection of birthday balloons still tied together and weighted to the floor wagged sadly near a window that looked out upon the huge estate.

A door directly ahead of Maude opened into a spacious library with children
’s books on every shelf, their covers shiny over pages unstained by small hands. Further down past the library another door stood slightly opened, beckoning. Her senses alert Maude trained her weapon upon the open door and entered cautiously from the side using the door as a barricade. A long walk-in closet with multiple doors covered the west wall while rows of dolls with porcelain faces and forever curls stood guard over a canopied bed of lace and ruffles.

Sounds
of whimpering, low and very young were coming from the closet. Maude focused her attention on the doors, cautious yet determined as she opened the door closest to the end of the walk-in. She had no idea of what to expect.

A small girl of about five or six was on the floor, cradling a woman’s head in her lap, the small hands stroking, pleading with the woman to get up. Maude leaned down and checked for a pulse
, but the woman had no signs of life. Maude looked carefully through the rest of the closet then went back to the bedroom door and called for Joe.

“Joe,” she said, “Can you hear me?”

“Yeah Maude, I’m here,” he said, “I’m on my way.”

“Get the other rooms
, on the second floor. Then come back here if you don’t find anything. I have a dead woman and a live kid,” Maude finished, on her way back to the little girl in the bedroom closet.

The
walk-in door was still open but the child was quieter. The presence of another adult was soothing to her. Maude spoke to the little girl, but didn’t try to move her away from the woman.

“Hi, I’m Detective Rogers, but you can call me Maude. What’s your name?” She was hopeful the little girl was coherent,

“Mommy’s asleep. She won’t wake up,” The child answered, her voice breaking.

“What’s your name?” Maude repeated.

“Alyson. Alyson Roberts,” the girl said, the name reassuring Maude that she was in monster’s den, and no one was safe there, not even his children.

“Are you hurt, Alyson. Can you tell me what happened?” Maude asked gently, touching the little girl on her shoulder.

“Nuh-uh,” the girl said, continuing, “Mommy and me were in the closet cause she said we needed to hide from Daddy. It was a game, and Daddy was trying to find her. Mommy told me to hide and be very quiet even if Daddy came. When Daddy found Mommy there was a loud bang and she fell down. Daddy didn’t see me. I was playing the game and hiding behind my stuffed animals. He was calling me, but I was very quiet because I got scared after the noise.”

“Do you know where your Daddy went?” Maude asked.

“No, he took my brother and went away. I looked out the window and saw them.” Alyson said, holding her mother’s hand.

J
oe entered the room and found the large closet open with Maude and the girl standing over the dead woman.

“No one else here,” he told her.
“Want me to call this in?”

“Yeah Joe, but do it outside the door
, if you don’t mind. Call Lieutenant Sorenson, tell him to send the coroner and someone from child services,” she said quietly, trying to avoid frightening the little girl any more.

“Sure Maude,
” Joe said, leaving the room and speaking to the two officers outside in the hallway, advising them of the dead woman.

Maude was sad for the little girl whose
existence had just been so dramatically altered. She wondered what kind of life the child had before with Dawson for a father. Thinking that maybe she would hold off asking anymore questions for a while, Maude suggested that they go outside the closet and look at the girls dolls. The child was reluctant, but did as Maude asked, pointing to each of the packaged collections, telling their names

Within three minutes Maude heard the wail of a siren and knew she only had a short time left
, alone with the little girl.

“Alyson, your daddy has a
plane, doesn’t he?” she asked.

“Uh-huh.
We ride in it sometimes, to go to Grandma’s house. It’s fun,” Alyson said, clutching a soft teddy bear that was in a basket near the dolls. “This is Teddy,” She said, “He sleeps with me.”

“Alyson, did your brother
want to go with your daddy?” Maude asked.

“Uh-huh. He didn’t want to go
, but Daddy said he had to go. He said Jason was surance.” Alyson said, absently stroking the bear with her bloodied hands.

“Said he was what, Alyson?” Maude wanted to make sure of what she heard.

“Daddy said, ‘you’re coming with me Jason, cause you’re my ‘surance’. I heard him yelling at Jason a lot,” the little girl said, starting to cry. “I want my mommy to wake up.”

“I’m sure you do, honey,”
Maude said soothingly, “I’m sure you do.” She sat for a moment, wondering how a parent could make his own son an insurance policy, protecting himself from harm. He was merciless and unfeeling; truly heartless.

The motor on the small four seat airplane started at
the first push of the button, just as he knew it would. Keeping his treasures in good repair had always been important to Ridge, maybe not to the two sickies, but to him it was necessary that they be primo. The ride out of the hangar had been smooth, even though the boy kept yelling for his mama, didn’t want to go in the plane, and had to be tied down in the seat!

Just like his
society mama, simpering fool that she was. He put up with her whining too many years. No more of that. He fixed her. One bullet in her empty head, she had it coming for a long time. Too bad he had to rush, could have had some fun with a little more time. She deserved everything she got.

He would miss the house and all its conveniences, but he had money and could buy more houses. Money was never a problem, if you knew how to get it
. And Ridge did. His off shore bank account was growing. Every now and then, an old rich skank looking for a young man to admire her would cross his path, and he took what she had, all of it, and she never saw it coming.

Pow! Out of the blue, he dropped
them all, carried their worthless old skins and dropped them in the Gulf. Ridge patted the console of the small plane, smiling.
He had opened the door over a few deserted lagoons, emptying more than one dead body into the salt water below him.

The cops had come to close to him
this time, almost got him, but he knew
she
was coming.
Saw her at that motel, walking around big as you please, should have killed her then, but the kid got in the way. Sniveling, messing with him making him drop the rifle. Next time she would die. Now he had to get away. Fly to his uncle’s place in Texas. Drop the boy with the old man.

The trip was slow
, avoiding cities whenever possible, Ridge flew the plane low, staying away from radar, not answering the radio as the cops tried to find him
. Homeland Security would be coming after him, he knew that, had to hurry now. Going down. Mountains ahead, small cluster of hills then a secluded tabletop, the perfect place to land. He had a four by four Jeep hidden there on the mesa under some brush and small trees. Always prepared, always ready, Ridge knew he was brilliant and invincible. They would never catch him. Way too smart for those clowns
.

The old man in the wheelchair
had been sitting on the porch, a pair of binoculars at his side. He had seen the plane go down, knew who it was. Knew death was coming. Ridge drove into the yard, the boy at his side, head down, asleep.

“Get out,” he told the sleeping boy. “Get out and stay with that old man. Both of you
are the same worthless baggage.”

“Hey, old man,” he screamed
from the Jeep. “You want this brat? Take him before I dump him on the road.”

The old man nodded
then reached for the boy as he stumbled upon the porch. “Give it up, Bobby. Don’t you think you’ve done enough?” the old man said, tucking the boy behind his chair.

Ridge threw his head back and laughed, the insanity pushing him. “Bobby isn’t here. He hasn’t been outside for a while. Keep your mouth shut old man
, or I’ll come for you. You’ll end up in a deep ditch just like that woman chasing brother of yours.”

The road was straight and easy to follow, the trip to Madison several miles away. Ridge was feeling high from the excitement of running, his alter egos quiet, afraid to break in. The murderer was ready and waiting for the next kill. Inside, Bobby was
also waiting, fearful of what might happen at the end of the road, yet determined to be free again.