Web of Justice (17 page)

Annie was startled from her thoughts when the phone on the desk rang. She picked it up.

“Lincoln Investigations. Annie speaking.”

“I told you to stay outta my business.”

Annie took a quick breath and put the phone on speaker. “Izzy Wilde?” she asked.

Jake leaned forward as the voice continued. “You seem like you don’t wanna give up. But you’ll never catch me.”

Annie glanced at the shelf behind her. A red light glowed, showing the call was being automatically recorded.

She spoke into the phone. “Maybe not, but the police will.”

Izzy gave a short laugh. “Maybe they will. But not before I’ve finished what I gotta do.”

“What is it you need to do?” Annie asked.

“I told you already.” Annie heard rapid breathing on the line, then Izzy continued in a shrill voice. “Because she’s back.”

Annie let a few moments pass before speaking. “I understand.” She hesitated. “Maybe we can help you.”

Izzy had calmed down, his voice returning to normal. “It don’t concern you. It’s my business.”

“Then tell me where you are,” Annie said, her voice as soothing as she could manage. “I’ll come and see you. We can talk.”

“You expect me to trust you? After what you and your husband did?”

“We wanted to save the girl.”

Izzy laughed again. “You did manage to do that, but there’re lots more of them.”

“Wait until we’ve had a chance to talk,” Annie said. “I want to help you.”

A long, hard laugh came over the line. “Afraid it’s too late for that.”

Annie caught her breath and swallowed hard. “What … what’s too late?”

“I told you there were lots more.”

Annie waited.

“She was easy to find. She trusted me and I didn’t let her down.” Annie could almost see his face twisted into a self-satisfied smile as he continued. “She had such beautiful long hair. It’s a real shame.”

Annie sat back and looked at Jake. His face was darkened with anger as he glared at the phone. He caught her glance and raised his eyes toward hers and emitted a low growl. His hands worked themselves into fists, and he held them up helplessly.

Annie took a breath and spoke into the phone. “Did you kill another girl?”

A shriek came from the line. “She weren’t no girl. She was an evil woman.”

Annie’s hand shook. She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself.

They’d been unable to save another victim.

She cleared her throat, then spoke in a defeated voice. “Where is she?”

“Where all dead things belong.” Izzy laughed. “She’s right at home now.”

Jake picked up the phone and spoke into it through gritted teeth. “Where is she, you scumbag?”

Izzy hesitated, then spoke in a monotone voice. “Hey, Jake. Didn’t appreciate your interference afore. I thought you’d understand. Seems I was mistaken.”

Jake frowned. “Why would I understand?”

“Cause you’re a man.”

“What does that have to do with it?” Jake paused and lowered his voice. “Help me understand, please.”

Izzy chuckled. “You’ve already shown me you don’t. It’s too late now.”

Jake covered the phone and frowned at Annie. “This guy’s nuts.”

Annie gave a long sigh and reached for the phone. Jake set it onto the desk and sat back again, shaking his head in exasperation.

“Izzy, tell us where the … woman is, please,” she said.

“I put her back where she come from.”

Annie wanted to climb through the phone and wring Wilde’s neck, but she fought to remain calm. “Where exactly is that?”

“Told you already.”

The line went dead.

Annie hung up the phone slowly, and she and Jake looked quietly at each other for a few moments. Finally, Jake spoke in a low voice. “We’d better call Hank.”

“And he’ll want to hear this recording. Perhaps they can trace the call as well, but Wilde might’ve used a disposable phone.”

Annie dialed Hank’s number and put the call on speaker. When the detective answered, she filled him in on the phone call. “I’ll get a copy of the recording to you right away,” she said.

“I’ll get Callaway to dissect it,” Hank said, adding, “We haven’t received a report of another body. Are you convinced he was telling the truth?”

“I’d count on it,” Annie said.

Hank sighed. “I’m afraid you might be right.” He hesitated, then said, “We found the gray sedan. The Volkswagen.”

“And?”

“He left it in the parking lot at Hillcrest Mall. In the middle of an aisle. It was blocking other vehicles, and the owner of a blocked vehicle called us to have it removed, and there you have it. So, he either stole another vehicle, or worse still—”

Annie interrupted. “He carjacked someone.”

Hank took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It appears you might be right.”

“Anything of interest in the car?” Jake asked.

“They’re still going over it,” Hank said. “But we found a pair of binoculars on the front seat and a couple of unused burner phones in the backseat. There’s no doubt it’s his car. Early forensic reports indicate his prints are all over it, and there’s evidence someone was in the trunk. Until we find out who his latest victim is, he has a fresh vehicle.”

“Where did he get the Volkswagen?” Annie asked.

“He bought it privately online. From an obscure bulletin board. Somehow we missed that one in our search. There’re so many places to pick up used vehicles, but Callaway’s still on it.” Hank sighed. “Additionally, we have word out to all of the bars and restaurants in town to be on the watch, but we can’t be everywhere.”

“Your manpower’s stretched pretty thin,” Annie said. “There’re not enough officers to cover all of the possibilities.”

“You’re right about that,” Hank said, adding, “But we’re one step behind him. Canvassing has uncovered where he found Lindy Metz. We obtained video footage from 7-Eleven showing she’d stopped for a drink on her way home, so he’s not limiting his search to bars and restaurants.”

“And now he’s targeting people at the mall,” Jake put in. “But who was she, and where is she?”

“I don’t understand why he called us,” Annie said. “He appears to be taunting us.”

“He’s not hiding his actions,” Hank said. “That’s for sure. Sometimes this type of killer wants to be caught, and perhaps that’s why he sends packages of the victim’s hair to us, as well as calling you. He might have a subconscious need to tell someone what he’s done.”

“But he didn’t tell us where she is,” Jake said. “Only that he put her back where she belongs.”

Annie tilted her head to one side and pursed her lips. “Back where she belongs,” she repeated. “Where does she belong?”

“Maybe he took her home,” Hank said.

“But where’s home?” Annie asked. “Since we don’t know who she is, and if he’s trying to give us a hint, that hardly helps.”

Jake snapped his fingers, a faint grin replacing his frown. “I know where she is.”

Annie looked at Jake and waited.

“He’s killing his mother over and over, right?”

Annie nodded.

“Hank, where’s his mother buried?” Jake asked.

The rustle of papers came over the phone and then Hank said, “Northtown Cemetery.”

Jake sat back and crossed his arms. “That’s where you’ll find the victim.”

Chapter 28

Thursday, 1:10 p.m.

HANK CONTACTED dispatch immediately, and the two cruisers closest to Northtown Cemetery were sent to inspect the property. He hoped they were dead wrong about there being another victim, but his instinct told him Jake had been correct in his speculation.

He pushed back from his desk and hurried into the break room. King was lounging as usual, polishing off a blueberry muffin and washing it down with a cup of coffee.

Hank poured a mug of the black sludge, dumped in lots of cream and sugar, and pulled back a chair across from his partner. “We might have another body,” he said as he sat and laid his arms on the table.

King set his empty cup down and gave Hank a quizzical look.

Hank brought King up to speed on the latest, finishing with, “I’m waiting for a call to tell me the bad news.”

And then his phone rang.

A body had been found in the cemetery.

Hank sighed, clicked off his phone, and pushed back his chair. He dumped the rest of his foul-tasting coffee into the sink and turned to King. “Let’s go.”

King wolfed the last bite of his muffin, tossed his cup into the wastebasket, and followed Hank from the break room.

Ten minutes later, Hank drove through the massive wrought iron gates of Northtown Cemetery. A quarter mile away, near the back of the sprawling cemetery, a couple of police cruisers were visible. As the detectives drew closer, first responders could be seen stretching yellow crime scene tape around the immediate area.

The medical examiner, as well as CSI, would be arriving soon. He’d wait for Nancy’s official pronouncement, but Hank was pretty sure he knew what was waiting for them.

He stopped fifty feet away and pulled in beside a cruiser, and he and King got out. Hank turned as he heard a familiar rumble and spotted a red blur from the corner of his eye. Jake’s Firebird was coming down the lane toward him.

The vehicle pulled in beside them and Jake and Annie got out.

“Jake was positive he was correct, so we decided to come here,” Annie said with a sigh, glancing toward the tape. “This is one time I wish he’d been wrong.”

Hank wished so too, but he didn’t say anything. He turned as the forensic van bumped down the lane. It was followed by the coroner’s van, and both vehicles pulled in and came to a stop.

The CSI team got out of their vehicle, and investigators unloaded equipment, lugging it to the crime scene. As he strode past, lead investigator Rod Jameson nodded at Hank and mumbled, “Morning, folks.”

Hank turned to Detective King. “We’d better take a look.”

They donned foot covers, then ducked under the tape and picked their way across the lawn and approached the body.

The victim was a young woman, maybe midtwenties. She lay on her back with her arms at her side, face up, perpendicular to a headstone. Her head was a few inches from the stone and, as far as Hank could tell, the body was in the exact position of the corpse six feet below.

Hank looked at the inscription on the headstone. “Debra Anne Wilde.” Izzy’s mother.

His eyes roved around the grassy area. Ten feet away the ground was littered with the victim’s hair. Long black locks ruffled in the breeze.

The grass around the hair was trampled, and Hank presumed it was where the victim had been shaved and strangled. He took a picture of the area.

Many of the surrounding graves had vases of flowers or colorful plants in various stages of decay surrounding the stones. Other than the flawless grass the caretakers tended to, the grave of Mrs. Wilde looked forsaken, and Hank noted the conspicuous absence of any flowers near the headstone.

Medical examiner Nancy Pietek stepped under the tape and worked her way through the short grass, greeting the detectives before crouching beside the body. She examined the leather belt around the woman’s neck, felt the skin of the victim, and examined the bulging dark brown eyes and gaping mouth.

She stood and announced what Hank already knew. “The cause of death is asphyxiation by strangulation.”

“How long ago?” Hank asked.

“I’d say no more than an hour.” She pointed. “There’re some defensive wounds on her arms, so it appears the vic was conscious at the time.”

Hank nodded. Without a doubt, Izzy Wilde had called the Lincolns immediately after the killing.

He knelt beside the body and examined the pockets of the victim’s jeans. Some loose change, nothing else. No ID.

A delicate gold chain hung around her neck, the end tucked behind her yellow-and-white striped t-shirt. Hank worked it out and snapped a picture of the small pendant it supported.

King’s cell phone camera clicked as he took a photo of the headstone. He moved over and shot a picture of the hair and the surrounding area.

CSI was documenting the scene with photos as well. Evidence cones were being set up in several places. Hank moved over to where an investigator was crouched down several feet away, examining a set of tire tracks in the grass.

“Tracks tell you anything?”

The investigator looked up at Hank and shook his head. “Not much. By the depth of the impression into the soil, it was most likely a light car. Normal-width tires.” He pointed. “Some footprints over there.” He swung a hand across the area. “You can see where the car pulled in, then backed out again.”

Hank felt certain Izzy would be using the victim’s car, and until they found out who she was, it would be impossible to determine exactly what kind of car he was driving.

He glanced around the area. There were no cameras. He’d done a visual check when he had first entered the lot, and there didn’t appear to be any surveillance at the gate, either. Not unusual for a cemetery.

He went back to where King was standing, his arms folded, watching an investigator crouched by the body. The investigator was employing a fingerprint scanner, and he stood and looked at Hank. “No match in the system for her prints.”

Hank nodded. He hadn’t expected there would be.

He turned to the sound of another vehicle rumbling down the lane. The Channel 7 Action News van pulled to a stop beside the coroner’s van, and Lisa Krunk hopped from the passenger-side door. On the other side of the vehicle, the cameraman, Don, had opened the back door and was in the process of swinging his camera equipment onto his shoulder.

Without doubt, Lisa had found out about this latest murder through the police scanner Hank knew she had in the van. He sighed and went to meet her. He’d have to give Lisa some kind of a statement.

King had noticed the new arrival and followed Hank, and the two cops ducked under the tape and waited for her beside the Firebird.

Lisa smiled her wide smile as she approached, her cameraman close behind, the red light already glowing. “Good afternoon, Hank,” Lisa said. She nodded at the Lincolns, then flashed a smile at King.