M for Murder, page 26
She wondered how her patrol partner and Sutton were getting on. They had left at seven that morning so should have arrived in San Palimo around lunchtime.
Had they spoken with Agnes Barnes yet?
Her own morning ended up being pretty uneventful. Hickok had been down to the courthouse first thing to apply for a stay of arrest on Lawrence Parker. Both agents had decided to put off applying for the search warrant on the house until Sutton had a chance to see what he could uncover in San Palimo, but they were keen to prevent Parker from going anywhere.
When Hickok returned, he had Parker brought up from the holding cells and, with Rebecca looking on, had started to thoroughly grill the professor. She had watched his relentless attack of blunt and aggressive questions, a little surprised by the cool façade Lawrence Parker was managing to keep up, while trying to ignore the long, lingering, almost flirtatious looks he kept giving her across the large wooden desk.
Hickok didn’t seem to notice and, while it was probably because he was on a mission to break Parker into confessing, Rebecca preferred to put it down to her own paranoia. It was stupid to believe that this mild-tempered married man, who might not even be guilty of anything, was flirting with her. He was being held on a possible charge of murder. Why the hell would he want to do anything that might jeopardise his chances of leaving this room a free man?
Admittedly, things weren’t looking too good for him at the moment. Aside from the black-and-green check tie that had been used to strangle Justine Orton, he wasn’t having much luck with his alibis. Scott Jagger had been murdered on a Friday night and Parker claimed to have spent the entire evening marking test papers in his classroom at the college. Unfortunately he had no witnesses to collaborate his story. On the two Tuesday nights when Rufus Lind and Kevin North had been killed, Kylan Parker had been out with friends and he swore blind he had spent both evenings home alone. Again, there were no witnesses. And when Emma Keeley had been murdered, Parker claimed he couldn’t remember what he had been doing. The two Saturdays when Catherine Maloney and Justine Orton had been killed were looking his best hope at the moment.
Well, they would do if his wife could be found.
Parker insisted that Kylan would be able to confirm his story that the two of them had been together on both nights. Unfortunately, until she returned, he was left dangling by a thread.
Hickok insinuated that she might not be coming back, that perhaps Parker might have killed her.
Rebecca thought the idea pretty stupid, believing that if Parker was their killer he would have enough sense not to kill the one person who could provide him with a solid alibi. Even so, she had to admit that the evidence piling up against the professor was beginning to look fairly overwhelming. Maybe she was wrong about him. After all, what would she, a rookie police officer, know? Hickok had experience and, as he had already proved to her, he also had pretty good hunches.
After two hours of solid questioning, Hickok decided to go and get coffee – and, Rebecca guessed, to go bang his head against the wall. Cracking through Parker’s hard exterior was proving to be harder than she had imagined and, whilst Rebecca was still unsure about him being a murderer, she didn’t doubt for a second that he was hiding something.
But what?
He swore blind that he and Emma Keeley were no more than friends, claiming that the note Hickok had found in his desk drawer was completely innocent. Then there was the tie that had been used to strangle Justine Orton. It was his and he didn’t try to deny it. What he did do, though, was insist that the last time he’d seen it had been over a week ago, sitting in his closet.
Was he telling the truth?
Alone in the room with him while she waited for Hickok to return with his coffee, she studied Lawrence Parker’s face, wondering what was going on behind the calm, impassive mask he wore.
He glanced up, startling her with hooded black eyes that seemed to bore right through her.
‘Have you been working here long, Officer?’ he asked, almost conversationally. His gaze remained on her and Rebecca struggled not to look away.
‘We’re not here to discuss me,’ she told him, keeping her tone cool.
‘You’re new to this profession, aren’t you? I’ll bet you’ve only just graduated from the academy.’ He smiled at her, teasing, almost seductive. ‘In fact, I’ll bet this is the first investigation you’ve been involved in.’
Rebecca narrowed her eyes, wondering what he was trying to insinuate. Was he trying to intimidate her, she wondered, coming out with all that crap about her being new to the police force, trying to make her think he had the upper hand?
She imagined that he could easily make a lot of people feel intimidated. He was powerfully built and incredibly handsome, with dark chiselled features and those intense black eyes that seemed to blink less than a cat, and he radiated a strong aura of power. It was difficult not to feel vulnerable in his presence. He continued to stare at her, almost challenging her to hold his gaze. Rebecca managed for about fifteen seconds before she had to break away. She focused instead on her hands in her lap and cursed herself under her breath.
He was getting to her and it pissed her off.
‘Officer Angell, isn’t it?’ he asked suddenly, drawing her attention back up to his face.
‘That’s correct.’
‘Angell. I like that name. It’s very pretty. Do you have a first name, Officer Angell?’
‘Not one that you can call me by,’ Rebecca told him laconically.
She was a little surprised that she was able to keep her own mask of calm composure from slipping, considering how her stomach was twisting knots inside.
Instead of being deterred by her put down, Parker’s smile grew into a broad grin.
‘You’re feisty. I do like that quality in a woman.’ His gaze dropped slowly to her breasts, lingering there for a moment before coming back up to meet her eyes. ‘I like that quality in you, Officer Angell.’
Rebecca let out an inelegant snort, her mouth dropping open. She pushed her chair back and got to her feet, so she at least had the advantage of height over Parker. She glared down at him.
‘Are you coming on to me?’ she demanded, feeling her temper boil.
Parker stared back at her, still calm, still composed, and looking amused at her outburst.
‘Is that a problem?’ he asked, a suggestive glint in his eye.
Hickok chose that moment to return to the room. He glanced first at Rebecca, then at Parker, a look of thunder on his face.
‘What the hell’s going on here?’ he stormed, slamming his cup down on the desk hard enough to slosh coffee over the sides.
‘This jerk just made a move on me,’ Rebecca snapped angrily.
Parker gave Hickok an innocuous smile.
‘I think Officer Angell just misinterpreted the situation.’
Rebecca glared at him. ‘I did not, you lying son of a–’
‘Angell! Outside now!’
She glanced at Hickok, seeing the warning on his face. Drawing a deep breath, she scowled at Parker and stormed from the room, slamming the door shut behind her. She expected Hickok to follow, but he didn’t and that irritated her even more.
Although she knew she was in the wrong for losing her temper with Parker, now she was mad she needed to vent her rage on someone, and Hickok was the perfect choice.
Sullenly, she skulked back to her desk, knowing that by the time he was finally through with Parker and ready to sound off at her she would have calmed down and be in no mood for a confrontation.
Stupid jerk! That’s probably why he did it.
‘Hey, Angell?’
Rebecca looked up to see Wayne Hankins waving the phone in her direction.
‘Who is it?’ she asked, crossing the room.
‘It’s Peterson, wanting Hickok. Can he be disturbed?’
Rebecca thought back to the situation she’d just left, Hickok angrier than she’d ever seen him and Parker smugly knowing he had got one up on her.
‘I’ll take it,’ she said, snatching the receiver. Hankins pulled a face at her and she turned her back on him. ‘Hal, it’s Rebecca.’
She heard Hal Peterson’s voice on the other end of the line. ‘Where’s Hickok?’
‘He’s busy. What do you want? I’ll give him a message.’
The line crackled and Rebecca heard what she thought was a snort. It didn’t surprise her. Vic Boaz wasn’t the only officer who seemed to think she’d landed herself a cushy number since the Feds had arrived. She waited patiently for Peterson to speak.
‘You’d better make sure he gets this, Angell. It’s important.’
‘Gets what?’
‘One of the girls whose prints we took earlier…’ He paused and Rebecca heard the flutter of pages as he consulted his notes. ‘Renee Lewis,’ he confirmed. ‘Turns out she was real good friends with Emma Keeley. She was telling us all about how Emma was totally infatuated with this guy. Even gave her the key to her room so they had somewhere private to go.’
‘Really?’ Rebecca felt her heartbeat quicken. ‘Did this guy she was seeing have a name?’
Peterson let out a gruff laugh. ‘Yup… Want to know who it was?’
Rebecca glanced in the direction of the room where Hickok was still hounding Lawrence Parker. She felt a smile crease the corners of her mouth.
‘I think I’ve already got a pretty good idea.’
Parker fixed Joel with a bored look. ‘Okay, so I slept with Emma Keeley. Happy now?’
Joel, sitting instead of pacing now he had the upper hand, ran his hands back through his hair. ‘Why didn’t you tell us this before?’
‘Because I didn’t want my wife to find out.’ Parker shifted forward slightly. ‘I still don’t want my wife to find out, Agent Hickok. Are we clear on that?’
‘Are you threatening me?’ Joel asked, amused.
‘No, I am merely making sure you’re aware of the delicate situation.’
‘Delicate situation?’
Parker nodded. ‘Kylan is… how can I put it. She’s fragile. And she doesn’t need any unnecessary trouble.’
‘She doesn’t need you screwing your students behind her back either,’ Joel added.
Parker glared at him and leaned back in his chair.
‘So, Lawrie, Emma’s dead, you wanted another fling. Is that when you took up with Justine Orton?’
‘I never had anything to do with Justine Orton outside of class.’
‘Really?’ Joel pulled a face. ‘Funny that, because Justine Orton seemed to have a lot to do with you outside of class.’
‘Implying what?’
‘Did you know that she kept your picture in her room?’
‘My picture?’ Parker looked almost pleased. ‘So one of my students had a crush on me, that doesn’t mean anything.’
Joel flipped open the notepad that sat on the desk. He studied the page and regarded Parker with a dry smile. ‘Let’s go back to your alibis.’
He watched Parker roll his eyes, the frustration finally beginning to show, and felt a sense of satisfaction that he might finally be getting somewhere.
‘The night when Scott Jagger was murdered, you weren’t really marking papers in your classroom, were you?’
‘No,’ Parker admitted with more ease than Joel expected.
‘So, what was the deal, Lawrie? Did you meet Scott Jagger in a bar, make out you’re his buddy and buy him a few drinks?’
Parker shook his head, looking Joel straight in the eye.
‘I wasn’t with Scott Jagger. I was with Emma.’
His admission stunned Joel into a moment’s silence. He studied Parker carefully through narrowed eyes, trying to figure out if he was telling the truth or, now they’d found out about his affair, if he was trying to use Emma Keeley as an alibi.
‘You were with Emma?’ he said eventually.
‘That’s right.’
‘And where were you the night Emma was killed?’
Parker gave a twisted smile.
‘Waiting to meet her.’
‘What?’
‘The note you found, Agent Hickok, I received it the day she… the day she died. I turned up to meet her, but she never showed up.’
‘And why would I believe that?’ Joel asked, his tone sardonic.
Parker’s lips thinned. ‘Because it’s the truth.’
36
He couldn’t believe that he had lost her.
All of this time he’d been watching her so carefully, probably more often than he should have done, and she’d managed to give him the slip.
He guessed he was partly to blame. Kylan had run into him three times and it was inevitable that she would eventually get spooked, especially after the Feds had decided to go public about the murders. The poor girl probably knew the killer would be looking for her. He should have been more careful. He should have watched her day and night.
With no clue as to where she had gone and at a loss what to do next, he made the call to his employer. He expected to get an angry reaction and he was right.
‘You’ve lost her! How the hell did you manage to lose her?’
‘I guess she got spooked and decided to get out of town.’ He knew his excuse was feeble, but it was the only one he had. The truth of the matter was he’d been sloppy all along. Sloppy because he’d wasted so many victims, so many chances; sloppy because when it came down to getting Kylan he hadn’t been careful enough.
‘What do you intend to do about this mess?’ the voice asked huffily.
‘There’s nothing we can do until she returns.’
‘If she returns…’
‘You said yourself it definitely has to be her. She’ll have to come back eventually and when she does I’ll pay her a visit.’ There was a long pause before the voice answered.
‘You’d better be right. You’ve missed every opportunity so far. Kylan Parker is our last chance. Without her we have nothing. Without her, this whole thing is a waste of time.’
‘Don’t worry. I’ll find her.’
‘I hope you’re right.’
He hung up the phone, pondering for a moment, not sure what to do.
Things with his employer were supposed to be kept top secret and that had been fine in the beginning. Now, it seemed as though the whole situation was spiralling out of control.
He climbed into his Buick, started the engine and swung the car out onto the road. As far as he could see, he only had one choice left. Seeing the police precinct on the road ahead, he began to indicate.
The man entered the police precinct late in the afternoon and asked to speak to whoever was dealing with the Juniper College murders. Hickok was still interrogating Lawrence Parker and, instead of disturbing him, Rebecca agreed to speak with him.
He was young, probably no older than thirty, with pale blond hair and acne, and he seemed nervous. As she approached the front desk, the thought crossed her mind that maybe he was a crank coming to confess to the murders. He wouldn’t be the first one they’d had.
She smiled politely at him. ‘Hello, I’m Officer Angell. I understand you have some information on the Juniper College murders?’
‘That’s right, I think I do.’ He glanced around the room. ‘Is there somewhere private where we could go talk?’
‘Yes, sure. Okay.’ Rebecca stepped out from behind the desk and led the way down to the office that Hickok and Sutton had been using.
‘We can talk in here,’ she said, following him inside the room.
He glanced around again before sitting in one of the two chairs at the desk. Rebecca shut the door. She stepped round to the other side of the desk and took a seat.
‘Can I take your name, please?’
The man nodded, looking a little more confident now that they were alone.
‘Yes, it’s Richard Lamb.’ He smiled at her. ‘I’m a private investigator.’
37
Seattle, Washington. Wednesday 7th May 1997
The nightmare had begun almost eight years earlier and now, just when it seemed she had finally found a way to deal with what had happened, the shadows of the past were returning to haunt her.
Jennifer Isaac was Rodney Boone’s one surviving victim, the only one who had managed to get away. What she hadn’t counted on at the time was that Rodney Boone would get away too.
The police had tried to reassure her, telling her he was more than likely dead. The house had burnt to the ground. It was unlikely he could have survived. It didn’t matter that they had never recovered his body. He would never be able to harm her again.
Of course, she hadn’t believed them. She had stabbed him. She had left him to burn in the cellar. So why hadn’t they found him? It was at that point she realised that he was no different to the movie monsters. He was alive and he was invincible. Knives and fire couldn’t destroy him. He would always be out there, always searching for her. Always looking forward to that moment he would find her and take revenge on her for ruining his alphabet.
After her ordeal at the hands of Boone, Jennifer had dropped out of college and moved back east to be with her family. She lost contact with all of her college friends, including Miranda, preferring to leave behind everything that reminded her of what had happened. The last time she had seen Miranda had been in hospital, when her old roommate had come to visit. Neither of them had much to say to one another. Jennifer knew that Miranda felt guilty about what had happened and was uncomfortable being around her. When she left, she’d promised to come back again the next day, but had never shown. Not that it mattered, because Miranda was part of the past, the part she would rather forget.
It had taken years of therapy for her to start putting the pieces of her life back together. For the first six months she suffered badly from agoraphobia and didn’t leave the house. Gradually, she learned to deal with her fears and she eventually reached a point where she knew she was as well as she could ever again hope to be.
