You Belong to Me (53 page)

‘What’s wrong, Stevie?’ he asked quietly.

‘I found one of those tracking devices in Cordelia’s backpack.’

‘Oh my God.’

‘And I got a description from Cordy.’ She told him.

‘Tall as a tree and a squashed heart tattoo? That’s . . . specific.’

‘What are you thinking?’

‘That Thomas Thorne is as tall as a tree,’ he said.

‘Yes, he is. We can’t bring him in yet. Not on the word of a five year old.’

‘I know. And I just told a policewoman to call him for Lucy. Lucy won’t be able to believe it’s Thorne. She’s loyal.’

‘Where’s her shadow?’

‘Skinner is on his way. Should be here any minute. Where are you going first?’

‘To pay a visit to that PI as soon as the squad car Hyatt ordered gets here.’

‘I’ll give Skinner the heads-up and I’ll meet you at the PI’s. Hang in there.’

‘I will.’ She hung up, closed her eyes, and prayed.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Wednesday, May 5, 6.25 A.M.

J
D hung up, so angry his hands shook. First Lucy and now Cordelia.
I want him dead
. It didn’t matter why Evan was doing what he was doing or even what he’d endured. It mattered that he needed to be stopped. Permanently.

JD’s phone rang again, the call this time from Debbie, Hyatt’s clerk. ‘JD, I have Detective Sherman from Newport News on the line. Hyatt said to put him through to you, that he has information you’ll want to hear. We checked him out. He’s legit.’

Before JD could ask a question, he was connected. ‘This is Fitzpatrick.’

‘Good morning. My name is Detective Sherman. I’m with the homicide department in Newport News. I’ll be brief because I can see from the news that you’re busy. I hear from your LT that you’ve met a PI named Maynard.’

‘Yeah,’ JD said, standing straighter. ‘I assume you have too. What did he do?’

‘Not sure, but he knows a helluva lot more than he’s telling. I got two bodies in my morgue. One’s a cop. Both have slit throats with a little curl around the right ear. I understand you have a few of those yourself.’

A cop. This just gets better
. ‘Physically in my morgue, six,’ JD said grimly. This could be the break they’d hoped for. He prayed Sherman knew something they didn’t.

Sherman coughed. ‘Sonofamotherfuckin’ bitch.’

‘Maynard’s friend was killed by the same person who did the other killings. He found her body yesterday morning.’

‘Really. That must be why he went home. How does she connect?’

‘We think she stumbled onto something that got her killed. How do your victims connect to Maynard?’

‘He came into town on Monday looking for a woman he claimed called herself Margo Winchester. He’d been pestering one of our elderly residents to speak to her granddaughter. We traced the granddaughter to a strip joint but she was already in the wind. Maynard stopped in to talk to her Monday night after he lost our tail.’

‘I assume you were tailing him for more than bothering the old lady.’

‘Oh yeah. He stopped by our morgue to ask about a victim of a fire. That was our cop, Pullman. He’d had his throat slit, then his body was burned in the arson of a condemned house. Took us a few days to ID him. In the meantime, a body was pulled out of the Bay – a Jane Doe. Her throat was also slit. She matched the woman Maynard was looking for.’

‘Margo Winchester.’

‘Yeah, but the Jane Doe was using Margo as an alias. Once we traced the old lady’s granddaughter to the strip joint, we passed the Jane Doe sketch around. They knew her as Mary Stubbs. She’d been a dancer there for a year, but hadn’t shown up in a week, right about the time she ended up in the Bay. They’d also seen our dead cop hanging around there in the recent past. Pullman was married, and was doing it with the stripper on the QT.’

‘Got it. Do you know an Evan Bryan?’

‘I don’t, but I can check it out. Is he the perp?’

‘We don’t know, but his name’s come up in our investigation. He and his mother were last known to be in North Carolina twenty years ago.’

Sherman waited. ‘That’s all you got?’

‘Plus the six stiffs in my morgue, three more missing, and two victims in Delaware.’

‘Shit, Fitzpatrick. What has Maynard told you?’

‘A whole lot of nothing, but I was on my way to see him when you called. I’ll keep you up to date if you’ll see what you can turn up on Evan Bryan.’

‘Will do. Good luck.’

‘Thanks,’ JD said and hung up with a tired sigh.
We’re gonna need it
. He’d started to call Stevie with the information when Skinner pulled up in his department car, reminding JD that he had no way to meet Stevie at Maynard’s house because his own vehicle was now a crime scene.

‘Heard what happened,’ Skinner said, jogging over to JD. ‘Lucy’s parents going missing and now Stevie’s kid being tracked. How’s the doc?’

‘Holding.’ She’d been holding for a long time, JD thought. ‘Look, I’ve gotta meet Stevie before she tears that PI Maynard a new one. Can I use your car?’

Skinner held out his keys. ‘Good luck. I wouldn’t want to be that PI right now.’

‘Me either. Tell Lucy I’ll be back as soon as I can.’
Tall as a tree
. JD sighed. ‘Look, Skinner, Stevie’s kid says the guy she saw was tall as a tree and had a tattoo of a squashed heart. I don’t know if he has a tattoo, but Thomas Thorne is—’

‘Tall as a tree,’ Skinner finished. ‘Hyatt will get some serious mileage out of that.’

‘Thorne is Lucy’s friend. He may come, considering her folks are missing.’

Skinner nodded. ‘Got it. I’ll keep my eyes open.’

Wednesday, May 5, 7.40 A.M.

Clay had another sleepless night, poring over Nicki’s records in the hope that he’d find something linking Ileanna Bryan to Evan Reardon and Lucy Trask. But he’d found nothing, so today he and Alyssa were going to Anderson Ferry to get answers so that they could find Evan, who thankfully hadn’t seemed to have killed anyone new in the last twenty-four hours.

They should have left already, but he hadn’t moved. He stood at his desk, his hands clutching the handle of his briefcase, wondering what had gone so wrong.

Because it was wrong. Nicki was dead because she’d fallen for the wrong man and hadn’t seen the truth in front of her. He couldn’t change that. But he should have come clean the moment he’d seen Mary Stubbs’s autopsy photo in Sherman’s office.

But he hadn’t and people had died. Innocent people.
And I have to live with that
.

‘It’s time to go, Clay,’ Alyssa said from the doorway of his office.

‘I know.’ He released a pent breath. ‘But I can’t. Evan has to be stopped and our going to Anderson Ferry will take hours that the cops could be using to catch him. We need to tell Mazzetti what we know. I’ll keep you out of it.’

Alyssa’s eyes widened. ‘Looks like you’re about to get your chance.’ She’d no sooner said the words when the outside door opened.

‘Where. Is. He?’ Mazzetti asked coldly from the front.

‘Um, he’s . . .’ Alyssa stammered.

‘Look,’ Mazzetti said angrily. ‘I’ve already been to his house. That’s his car outside and I’m in no fucking mood to play games. Where is Maynard?’

‘It’s okay, Alyssa,’ Clay called. ‘Show her in.’

Mazzetti stormed in, followed by a man about Clay’s size. The man looked equally grim. Clay wondered if Evan had killed someone else after all.

Mazzetti propped her fists on his desk and leaned in. ‘Who is he? Who is the brother?’

‘Whose brother?’ he asked, although he thought he now knew.

In the blink of his eye she was around his desk, her furious face inches from his. ‘I swear to God you’d better not lie to me, Maynard. Tell me who he is. Now.’

‘I’d tell her what she wants to know, Mr Maynard,’ the other detective said calmly. ‘The man who’s killed ten people just threatened my partner’s five year old daughter. I wouldn’t stand in your shoes and socks if he touches a hair on her head.’

‘Ten?’ Clay asked, horrified.

‘Ten,’ the man said. ‘There are two bodies in the Newport News morgue with our guy’s signature on them. And three more are missing.’

Clay closed his eyes. ‘Dear God,’ he murmured.

‘You’d better pray,’ Mazzetti snarled. ‘A name. I know you have one.’

The man sat on the edge of his desk and between the two detectives Clay was boxed in. Both cops were furious. The man simply covered his rage in a veneer of calm that Clay knew would be easily shattered.

‘First, no charges against Alyssa,’ Clay said.

‘I’m not making any promises,’ Mazzetti said, a hair more rationally. She backed away, her hands fisted at her sides. ‘Talk.’

‘Who are you?’ Clay asked the man.

‘Fitzpatrick. Her partner. A name, please. I’ll even give you a first name. Evan.’

This is over
. ‘Reardon,’ he said. ‘Alyssa, print them a picture.’

Fitzpatrick looked relieved at the photo, as if he’d thought he might see someone else.

‘It could be the guy who took Ryan Agar,’ Mazzetti said. ‘If we add a fake mustache, it could be the guy in the parking garage photo.’ She looked up. ‘Does he have any body art?’

Clay thought of the photo Nic had taken of Evan in her bed. ‘Yes. A tattoo. A heart that was melted. Like that clock in the Dali painting.’

‘How tall is he?’ Mazzetti demanded.

‘Six three,’ Clay said. ‘Why?’

‘Because my five year old saw him when he dropped a tracking device in her backpack. She can identify him. I don’t think he’s gonna like that.’

Clay’s anger reignited. Until Evan was dead, Mazzetti would always worry that one day he’d come back. Clay could have asked why Evan would threaten her daughter, but he knew. Distract and divide. Grabbing her daughter would be Evan’s insurance if they got too close.

‘We didn’t know about Ileanna Bryan,’ Clay said. ‘We don’t know how they’re connected, but we suspect it has something to do with a town called Anderson Ferry.’

Mazzetti seemed to settle. ‘All right. Let’s sit down and you tell us what you do know.’

Clay gestured to the chairs, waving Alyssa to one. ‘No charges against Alyssa,’ he repeated.

Mazzetti studied him sharply. ‘When did you know?’

‘Definitively, last night. We know Evan met the victim Sue Ellen Lamont. When we heard she was dead, we knew. Until then it was all circumstantial.’

‘Who are the bodies in Newport News?’ Mazzetti asked.

He crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Your word, Detective. She’s eighteen. She thought she was doing the right thing. No charges.’

‘I’m not promising anything, Mr Maynard. But you did tell us Evan’s last name, so I will do my best to see you are not identified.’

For a long moment their gazes locked. ‘All right.’ He told them almost everything, deleting all references to the fact that Nicki had crafted a new identity for Evan Reardon. ‘Evan said he wanted us to make the stalker woman go away,’ he finished. ‘I don’t know why he’s doing this. I don’t know who Ileanna is or why Nicki went to Anderson Ferry.’

Again a glance passed between the detectives, subtle, but there.

‘You do know, though,’ Clay said.

‘Yes,’ Mazzetti said. ‘We know Nicki went there. She was given a folder of information by the newspaper office there a few days before she was killed.’

‘We didn’t find it. I assume we would have known about Ileanna Bryan if we had.’

Mazzetti nodded. ‘Reasonable assumption.’

‘Something happened two months ago,’ Fitzpatrick said. ‘Do you know what that was?’

‘His mother,’ Alyssa said quietly and Clay nodded.

‘His mother died, but that was more than three months ago. That I’ve confirmed.’

‘Her name?’ Fitzpatrick asked.

‘Yvette Reardon,’ Clay said. ‘Evan told Nicki that she’d gotten sick and he came back to care for her. That’s when he said he did it with the pole dancer.’

‘Which drove his wife away,’ Mazzetti said.

‘He said that, but I found she’d run years earlier because he’d hit her and the kids. His mother died, but the rest of what he told Nicki was fiction, I think.’

‘How did you know about Sue Ellen Lamont?’ Fitzpatrick asked.

‘Evan met her in a hotel,’ Alyssa said. ‘She’s a hooker. Was a hooker.’

‘We tracked him via his credit card,’ Clay said, not intending to mention the Ted Gamble name unless he was forced to. ‘I ran a background on Lamont last night and saw she had a record for credit card fraud. I think she may have targeted Evan for a hit. Instead he killed her.’

Fitzpatrick considered it. ‘That plays. Ms Fields’s apartment had no sign of forced entry. He’s also had key entry to other places. How did he get your partner’s key?’

Clay sighed. ‘Nicki and Evan were having an affair. We didn’t know.’

‘That would be hard on her family to hear on the CNN loop,’ Mazzetti said. ‘If we have to tell her parents, we will. But we’ll do our best to keep that from the press.’

‘Thank you. And when you find him, we’d like to know. If you could.’

‘I’ll do my best,’ she said. ‘That’s all I can promise.’

‘Thank you,’ Clay said again. He rose to see them out. ‘I’m sorry he threatened your child, Detective Mazzetti.’

She lifted her chin. ‘When I catch him, he will be too.’ She held up the photo of Evan. ‘We need to get this to our boss. Can we use your fax machine?’

Alyssa pulled from her pocket the card Mazzetti had given them the night before. ‘I’ve got your fax on here. I can send it from my computer. Keep that one.’

Fitzpatrick held up his cell. ‘I’m getting a call. Stevie, I’ll wait for you outside.’

Her partner left and the two of them stood alone by his front door.

‘So,’ she said, pointing to Alyssa. ‘The two of you . . . ?’

The question took Clay by surprise. ‘No. God, no.’

‘Good.’

He frowned slightly. ‘Why?’

‘Because I’m a pretty good judge of character and you didn’t seem like the kind of man to have an affair with a girl young enough to be your daughter.’

Said that way, he had to wince. ‘She was trying to gain us some breathing room. And to be honest, I was hit so hard by Nicki’s death that I was numb. We’d been friends a long time and it’s still not real yet. Things just kind of happened. I don’t know if you can understand that.’