Violence of the Father (A Trinity of Death Romantic Suspense Series Book 2) (8 page)

“How are we going to do this?” I ask Lauren.

“I’ve got it,” she says, taking Philip’s autopsy off of my desk. She walks up to Jack’s desk and I follow her. “Hey, Jack. I was flipping through Philip Herdon’s autopsy. I was wondering if you could take a look and tell me what you think. It just feels like there’s something different from Glenn Erwin’s murder.”

Jack hesitates for a second before he takes the folder.

“I’ll look into it in a couple minutes,” he says. “I just need to write up my report on my own case.”

“This is really important,” Lauren says, tapping on the folder. “This is the fourth crucifixion in total and the killer is becoming more violent. It would be great if you could look at it right now.”

He glances up at the two of us. “You can’t get anybody else to look at it?”

“We’ve had a few people, but they haven’t been able to find anything. Since you’re new, we thought you might be able to find something unique that we wouldn’t normally catch,” Lauren says.

Jack glances back down at the folder. I can feel my heart racing as he flips over the folder. The first few sheets of paper are just information about Philip Herdon’s body, but after that, there are photographs of his body and, unless Jack is a full-blown sociopath, it should affect him.

Jack flips the folder closed, not even looking past the first page. “I don’t see anything that you wouldn’t have caught. The two murders are likely different, but that doesn’t mean anything. You said yourself that the murderer is escalating the violence he commits. That’s it.”

“Really?” Lauren asks. She flips the folder back open and turns to one of the pages with a photograph of Philip’s crucified body. “Why don’t you look at the photographs, too?”

Jack refuses to look down, staring at the background of his computer screen. “I don’t need to. I read the text.”

“Detective Hamlin,” Lauren says.

He glances over at her. There’s a pain in his eyes that reminds me of a wounded animal.

Lauren’s voice is a little gentler. “Did you know Philip Herdon?”

Jack rubs his thumb against his bottom lip.

“I don’t see how that’s pertinent—”

“It’s a question that requires a simple yes or no answer,” I interrupt. He gives me a withering look.

He gives me a withering look. “Yes,” he confesses. “I did know him. Now, let me explain why I didn’t tell anyone—”

“I think it’s pretty obvious why you didn’t tell anyone,” I say. “You had something to hide.”

“I had myself to protect,” he retorts. “I didn’t kill him, okay?”

A couple of other police officers have turned to try to listen to our conversation. Jack lowers his voice.

“We both went to this church called Soulful Church. I had known about him stealing money from the bar because my friend, Jamie Gambon, is the owner. Jamie had noted that he wasn’t making as much of a profit as usual…I had worked in a restaurant that had a bar and I knew how some of the bartenders would take some extra cash, so I drank there a few times a night and watched the bartenders. I know what Philip was doing. I saw it.”

“So is that why you began stalking him?” Lauren asks.

“No, it wasn’t stalking,” he says. “I just…I wanted Philip to stop, so that Jamie’s business wasn’t suffering and I didn’t want to bring the law into it because that could cause bad publicity for Jamie. Jamie trusted everyone who worked for him, and this kind of thing would cause him to become cynical. I just wanted to get through to Philip. I mean, we went to the same church. I thought I could show him what he was doing wrong, but I approached him a few days before he went missing and told him to stop stealing, and all he said was that he couldn’t stop because his family needed the money.”

“You know, that whole desperate attempt to save someone through religion sounds an awful lot like our serial killer,” I say to Lauren, trying to keep my voice nonchalant.

Jack shakes his head violently. “No,” he says. “It’s not me. I swear. I was working half the time during those murders.”

“None of us can be certain of that,” I say. “The time of death is too ambiguous.”

“I didn’t kill all those people!” he says. “I swear. I believe in Jesus and I believe he wanted us to take care of each other. I would never take a life unless it was to save an innocent life.”

“Well, our killer thinks he’s saving innocent lives by crucifying them,” I say. “So, what you’re saying isn’t very reassuring.”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “There is zero evidence I murdered either of these people. All you have is that I knew Philip.”

“And you tried to hide that fact,” I insert. “And you were stalking him. And you knew about the broken commandment that he was killed for. And you’re religious. That’s a much longer list than you’re making it out to be.”

“Do you really think that if I had killed Philip, I would have confessed all of that to you?” he hisses, glaring at me. “You’ve never liked me. You’re clearly letting your personal feelings interfere with the investigation.”

“Oh, if you want me to include my personal feelings into this investigation, I would have already dragged your ass into the interrogation room,” I say.

Lauren elbows me. “I think he’s telling the truth,” she mutters. “He’s not showing any signs that he’s lying.”

“Some people are just good at lying,” I say. “Some of them don’t exhibit any body language when lying.”

She turns to Jack. “Jack, when you were following Philip, did you notice anybody else hanging around him other than his wife and daughter?”

He shrugs. “There was guy he worked with that he hung out with—I think he was a bouncer at the bar. Bulky guy, bald, about a few inches taller than me. And, uh, Philip might have been cheating on his wife because there was some chick that I saw with him sometimes after he was done working.”

“Do you know her name or can you describe her?” I ask.

“I don’t know her name, but she was in her mid-twenties, thick blond hair, and she was really thin. I bumped into her once to start a conversation with Philip and I remember she had cross earrings because she was always tugging on them.”

I turn to Lauren. “Julia.”

“Julia,” she echoes.

Jack looks between the two of us. “So, can I get back to working or do you want to interrogate me further?”

I take out my cell phone and send a text to Romano.

Me: Your partner knew Philip Herdon and stalked him. Can you come keep watch of him?

I shove my phone back into my pocket. “Romano is going to come watch you. Don’t do anything stupid.”

I walk back to my desk. Lauren follows me.

“Don’t you trust me when I tell you that I think he’s innocent?” she asks.

“I trust you. I just don’t trust anybody else,” I say. “Besides, I’m sure he is innocent. I just want him to remember for the rest of his life what happens when he impedes an investigation.”

“I don’t know whether I should be flattered or think that you’re an asshole.”

“They’re not mutually exclusive,” I say.

“I’ve noticed.” She leans over and kisses me. “I love it.”

Her words feel like they should be filled with admiration or adoration, but there’s something distant in her voice. It’s like she’s saying it from the other side of the world, but she’s right here in front of me.

W
hen Tobias
and I run back into New Hearts adoption agency, Julia isn’t sitting behind the secretary’s desk. Instead, Patrick White is there, talking to someone on the phone.

“Yes, Mr. Luzier, we’ll see you on Friday,” Patrick says. “Absolutely. We’re excited to see you too. I’ll talk to you soon. Goodbye.”

After he hangs up, Tobias and I step up to the desk.

“Where’s Julia?” I ask.

“She was upset about her father passing away, so I gave her the rest of the day off,” he says. “Is there a problem? Is she in trouble?”

“The fact that it’s her father that passed away could be why she represents The Father,” I say to Tobias.

“Represents her father?” Patrick asks. “What’s going on here?”

“We just believe that Julia may be responsible for some crimes,” Tobias says. “Do you have her address in your employee personnel files?”

“We should have it here in our computers.” He clicks the mouse a few times and the printer starts whirring. He turns back to us. “Okay, first, I would like to say I don’t believe Julia would do anything wrong.”

“You guys are really big on that idea that you’re all a big family, aren’t you?” Tobias mutters.

“I’ve known her since she was young—I got her this job,” he says. “I don’t think she’s capable of immoral behavior.”

“People surprise each other all of the time,” I say.

Patrick shakes his head. “At the very least…could you keep New Hearts’s name out of the papers?” he asks. “For most businesses, getting your name involved in something bad can cripple business, but for us…our business is about doing good and morality. I really don’t want the number of adoptions to drop because of a controversy.”

“Mr. White, this is more than a controversy,” Tobias says. “This is serial murder.”

His whole face goes white. “Serial murder? Julia wouldn’t be involved in that.”

“Well, then, we’re just going to question her and see if she knows anything,” Tobias says. He holds out his hand and Patrick reluctantly gives him Julia’s address.

I
park
in front of Julia’s house. It’s a small, one-story, dark blue house with white shutters and a white door the looks oddly small.

“We shouldn’t ambush her,” I say. “Only one of us should go in.”

“It should be you,” Lauren says.

“Really?” I ask. “Usually, you’re the one who makes more sense to talk to people with your ability to read them, and you’re just generally a nicer person.”

“
But I do not allow a woman to teach or exercise authority over a man, but to remain quiet.
First Epistle to Timothy,” she quotes. “And the whole thing about how Adam was formed first and Eve was deceived by the serpent. She’s more likely to listen to you since you’re a man.”

I stare at her. “How can you know those things are in the Bible and still be a Christian?”

“Well, that quote is more about women in the Church at Ephesus than anything else. They’re letters, they require context,” she says. “But a lot of fundamental Christians read it differently. And I’d like to point out that Eve may have been deceived by the serpent, but Adam just went along with what Eve said. I think it makes more sense that Eve listened to a talking snake, who may or may not have been the Devil.”

“None of this makes sense to me,” I say.

“I know.”

“I’ll go talk to her,” I say. “I’ll call you if I need back-up for this little ninety pound woman.”

“I’m pretty sure that Mary Fitzgerald wasn’t that much heavier and she put two nails into you.”

“Touché,” I say, opening my car door. I walk up to Julia’s house and knock on the door. I glance around as I wait for her to answer. She has a small white car parked in the driveway, so somebody has to be here.

Half a minute passes by. I knock again. Louder. More insistent. I’ll be damned if one tiny little person wastes my time while I’m trying to track down a sadistic serial killer.

After another nearly thirty seconds pass by, Julia yanks open her door.

“Did you need something?” she blurts out.

“Yeah,” I answer. “Why were you hanging around with Philip Herdon?”

She gapes at me. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, you’re a little too far into Jesus to lie well,” I say. “I know you knew him, I know you were hanging around with him. I may hate my source, but he’s not stupid enough to make up a story like this. So, I’ll ask again: why were you hanging around with Philip Herdon?”

“I…” She bites her lip. “We were having an affair, okay?”

“You want me to believe you were having an affair with Philip?” I ask. “You? The one with crosses and Bible verses all over your desk?”

“It was mostly emotional,” she says, wrapping her arms around her waist. “I don’t do well at dating, but he took an interest in me. He showed me some really nice places in the city. My feelings got the best of me. God told us that our hearts are deceitful and can’t be trusted, but I was caught up in the moment.”

“So why didn’t you tell us that you knew him when we came to the agency?” I ask. “You had to know he was one of the reasons we were there. The two murders have been all over the news and I could understand someone not paying attention to who they were if they weren’t having an affair with them, but you don’t have an excuse.”

“I couldn’t say anything when I had two of my bosses around,” she says. “Mr. Lush and Mr. White believe that we’re this tight knit family that doesn’t keep secrets. I didn’t want them to think I wasn’t trustworthy.”

“Why should I believe you now when you didn’t tell me the truth before?” I ask.

“Why else would I have been hanging out with Philip?” she asks. “I was in love with him.”

“I don’t know,” I say, cupping my chin, pretending to ponder the question. “Maybe you were trying to figure out if he was as sinful as you thought. Maybe you were trying to get him alone in order to kill him. It could be a number of different motives.”

“I can prove to you that we were having an affair!” She steps back into her house, walking down into a hallway. I poke my head in through the door. The house seems awfully dark for someone so religious. I would think she’d want sunshine coming through every window, but the shades are drawn on the few windows the house does have. Maybe that’s what shame does.

Julia comes back out, holding a bunch of notes. She hands them to me.

“Philip left these notes under my car windshield wipers or under my door,” she says.

I hope you have a great day. I love you more than you could ever know, —P

I was listening to this song called “Deeper Love” by Ashley Woodson and it reminded me of you. I can’t wait to see you tonight -P

I know this is difficult, but I know our feeling for each other are stronger than any problems we could face. Don’t give up on us. I know you think God would condemn our relationship, but he wouldn’t have brought us together if it weren’t for a good reason. Give us another chance. -P

“Okay, there’s no reason for me to believe this is Philip,” I say, handing the notes back to her.

“I’m sure you can find samples of his writing somewhere,” she says. “It will match his writing here. I’m guilty of a lot of things, but I didn’t kill him.”

I scowl. My gut is telling me that she’s right. I hate when my gut gives me inconvenient truths.

“Stay in town,” I tell her. I turn around. Lauren is watching me through the front windshield. I throw my hands up in exaggerated exasperation before getting back into the car.

“At least you weren’t shot with a nail gun?” she says.

“At least we caught Mary after I was shot,” I say. “We have nothing now. No suspects, nothing. We just found out that everyone is a liar around us.”

“Let’s just go back to my apartment,” she says. “We’ve been chasing our tails all day. We can drink some champagne and sleep on it.”

“You know what really helps me?” I ask, leaning over to kiss the edge of her mouth. “It really stimulates everything inside me.”

“Be good,” she says, pressing her fingertips against my chest to push me away. “And maybe I’ll help you to arouse all kinds of thoughts.”

I’ve never driven faster in my life.

T
he name Tobias
actually has Biblical origins from the Book of Tobit, which is Biblical canon for certain sects of Christianity, but isn’t considered to be inspired by God in other sects. Tobit—or in the Latin translation, Tobias—is saved by the angel Raphael when Raphael leads him to the woman he would marry, chases the demon away that had been killing off his bride’s husbands, and cures his father’s blindness. The moral of the story is supposed to be something about how well prayer works, how people should respect their parents, particularly their fathers, and that angels are badasses that can overcome demons.

I have not lived up to my namesake. I stopped believing in angels when I was a teenager, I haven’t saved any woman, I haven’t gotten married, and I haven’t cured my father of his sickness.

I’m doing fucking terrible at life.

I feel the weight on Lauren’s bed shift as she sits down next to me. I roll over to look at her.

“You’re up early,” I mumble.

“I don’t know how you could sleep,” she says. “Usually, you’re the fanatical one that can’t sleep until we catch the killer.”

“Well, it’s been a very long, arduous week of tracking down a handful of suspects and having to discover none of them are the killer, so I’m going into a short hibernation,” I say, pulling the blankets tighter around me. “Did you figure out anything while you were awake?”

“Yes,” she says. “I figured out something that I need to ask you again.”

“You can ask me anything,” I say.

“Why don’t you want kids?”

I roll over, so my back is turned toward her. “That’s not a question. That’s an ambush. I already told you why.”

“I know you, Tobias,” she says. “I know how you react to things you don’t like or things you don’t want to be around…that’s not how you react around kids. You act like you’re scared of them.”

“I am not scared of kids,” I say. “Kids are the least scary thing in the world. I will fight twenty six-year-olds. I’m not scared.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” she says. “If you don’t trust me to tell me the truth, then how can our relationship survive?”

“If you can’t trust me enough to let it go, how can our relationship survive?” I retort.

“That’s really incomparable,” she says. “It takes more trust to accept someone’s refusal to tell the truth than to tell a secret and hope the other person can deal with the truth.”

“There’s nothing to tell!” I snap. “It’s not anything you need to know about it. It doesn’t matter.”

“If it doesn’t matter, then tell me.”

“Why are you so desperate to know?” I demand.

“Because I can’t trust someone who doesn’t trust me.”

“Fine. Fine,” I snap, sitting up. “You know why I don’t want kids? I don’t want kids because I already had one. My girlfriend in high school was four months pregnant when she miscarried. The day she told me, I decided that I wasn’t going to love another thing that much when I could lose it that easily. That’s the whole thing. It’s not a sob story, it’s not an excuse—I just made a decision when I was a teenager and I’ve kept that promise to myself. Until I met you. I let myself fall in love with you and I’m already beginning to question if that’s the right decision because I know you’re already having doubts. I may not be able to read body language like you, but I can read it in your eyes every time you look at me.”

“Tobias, I’m sorry about your child,” she says. “I really am. But there’s a larger chance there won’t be a miscarriage, especially after the first couple of months. You’re afraid of something that has a small chance of happening! You’re willing to sacrifice the happiness of having a child because of your fear that isn’t even—”

“How can you stand there and judge me?” I ask. “You don’t know what it’s like to lose a child.”

“I lost both of my parents. I know exactly what it’s like to lose a loved one. I know what it’s like to lose two—”

“That’s not the same as losing a child!” I shout, jumping out of the bed. “It’s not the same. A child has a whole future in front of them. I was going to raise that child to learn everything I knew and so much more. But that future is completely gone. A whole lifetime is gone.”

“Can’t you at least be open about the idea of having a child?” she asks.

“No,” I snap. “No. I can’t be.”

I grab the boxer briefs and jeans I was wearing yesterday and jerk them on. I yank on my shirt, every one of my actions feeling like an attack.

“You don’t need to leave, Tobias,” Lauren says. “We need to talk about this.”

“We really don’t,” I say. “I just need a few hours to cool off.”

I grab my wallet and leave her apartment, my thoughts just angry flashes of red and the knowledge of how easily future plans can be erased.

W
hen I finally show up
at the police station, I’m a couple hours late, but I figure I can always tell them that the reason I’m late is because I was chasing more pointless leads. I’m still pissed off because I left my cell phone at Lauren’s, but it doesn’t help my mood when I pass by Jack Hamlin, who glares at me like I had been the one concealing important information about a serial killer’s victim.

But as I reach my desk, I realize the whole police station seems to be tense. Everyone’s movements are rigid and deliberate as if they’re all waiting for bad news or preparing for an uphill battle.

As Romano passes by my desk, I grab his arm.

“What’s going on?” I ask. I nod toward Lauren’s desk. “Where’s Lauren?”

“She didn’t tell you?” he asks. “Where have you been? Patrick White’s son came in this morning. He had confessed to his father that he had seen—or at least he thinks he saw—Glenn Erwin being propped up at the baseball field as he waited for his father to finish working at New Hearts. I can’t believe she didn’t tell you. This could be our big break.”

“Son of a bitch,” I mutter. Lauren wouldn’t have taken a child to the interrogation room, which leaves only one other room. I stalk to the break room. Just like I expected, Lauren’s sitting at the rickety plastic table there, talking to a small boy with fine blond hair who sits across from her while Patrick White drinks some coffee near the doorway.

Lauren glances up as I step into the room, but she quickly looks back at the little boy.

“So, you’re saying that you saw Julia pushing the cross into the dirt at the baseball field?” she asks. “You’re certain it was her? She doesn’t seem like she would be strong enough.”

“I saw her!” the boy insists. “It was her. I thought of going over to say hi until I saw that man on the cross.”

I take a couple of steps over to stand beside Patrick White.

“Must have freaked you out to hear that your son had seen the murderer,” I whisper.

He nods. “I’d noticed that he was acting strangely, but I figured it was simply part of him being adopted—he was having doubts about whether my wife and I loved him and if his parents abandoned him because of something he did…it happens to a lot of adoptees. They all react differently—some become depressed, some become angry, some cut themselves off from social interaction. I never imagined that he had seen one of my employees commit murder.”

“You can’t blame yourself,” I say. “There’s no way you could have known.”

Lauren sits up. “I think we know enough now. Thank you, Mr. White and Bobby.”

“Of course,” Patrick says, shaking her hand. “I’m always happy to help the police.”

He wraps his arm around his son’s shoulders and leads him out of the room. I sit down across from Lauren at the table.

“So, Julia was lying,” I say.

“Apparently,” she says, not looking up as she jots down some notes. “Bobby didn’t show any signs that he was lying and it’s harder for a child to hide those kinds of things.”

“Why don’t we go talk to Julia and see where she was the night that Glenn was put in the baseball field?” I ask.

“You should go do that since you already have good rapport with her,” she says. “I’m going to look into Julia’s financials and her cell phone history to see if there’s a connection between her and Mary or any other suspect.”