Vicious: The Faces of Evil Series: Book 7 Read online

  Hayes was still on the phone but he gave her a thumbs up.

  She breathed a little easier, but she feared their efforts would never be enough. “We’re casting stones in the dark, Sergeant. Hoping to hit the objective.”

  Lori moved into their huddle. “I spoke to Chief Burnett’s secretary.”

  “Is he on his way?” Jess cringed at how needy she sounded. Dan should know about this. Either his phone was dead or he was in a meeting. As much as she hated to admit it, now she knew how he felt when he couldn’t reach her. She didn’t like it.

  “She said he and Chief Black are at Oak Hill.”

  “The cemetery?” Had there been another murder? She looked to Harper. “Is something going on over there?”

  “Nothing I’ve heard about.”

  “Sheila said she’d give him the message.” Lori held up her cell. “Do you want me to call him directly?”

  “I guess not.” If he was in the middle of a briefing or some meeting with city planners, there was no truly pressing reason to disturb him. Not at this point anyway. Jess rubbed at the lines on her brow. “Let’s release the photo of the blonde to the public. See if anyone recognizes her. Call Gina Coleman. Maybe she can expedite things at her station.” The city’s television sweetheart could get the ball rolling. Coleman had been helpful to the department and to Jess in the past.

  “That could be a problem,” Hayes said as he approached, “if it turns out the women are nothing more than friends of one of the residents. People love filing lawsuits.”

  “No one in the building recognized her,” Lori countered. “Or had guests who left at that hour.”

  “Maybe,” he nodded toward the photo taken from the video footage, “if they’re working girls it’s possible no one wants to remember seeing them.”

  “Thomas most likely brought them home with him, but since no one we’ve contacted knows where he was earlier that evening, we can’t confirm it.” Jess wanted to scream. They’d had no luck tracing the number of the phone that sent the text with the video. They needed more. Something. Anything.

  “Maybe Cook will find someone who knows where Logan was and who he was with,” Harper suggested. “He’s still pounding the pavement.”

  “Am I sending out the photo or not?” Lori looked to Jess for a yay or nay.

  “Send it to Coleman first. Tell her to move fast, and then send it to the others.” Jess wasn’t waiting. These two killers—if these women were their killers—were working way too quickly. “Lieutenant,” she turned to Hayes, “you and I are taking a walk down memory lane.”

  Hayes glanced at the map. “Irondale?”

  “That’s right.” Jess walked to her desk and grabbed her bag. “Sergeant, you and Detective Wells go through the lists of friends and coworkers for all three victims. See if they have any in common. Run through those closest to the victims first and see if anyone recognizes the blonde. Somebody somewhere has to know her.”

  “On it, Chief,” Harper assured her.

  Jess hadn’t been back to the Irondale house since she left Birmingham at eighteen. She hoped whoever resided there now was still breathing.

  Twentieth Street South, Irondale, 4:05 p.m.

  Lieutenant Hayes parked at the curb in front of the house that Jess had once called home. She hadn’t expected it to be abandoned. The local detective Hayes had spoken to while they were en route said no one lived in the house. From the looks of things no one had lived here for a very long time.

  One less surveillance detail.

  Seeing the house this way startled Jess a little. It looked nothing like the home she recalled. Most of the windows were boarded up. Pale blue paint peeled from the wood siding. The yard was a jungle, overgrown with weeds more than waist deep. The house next door was gone entirely, leaving a chimney standing among the wilderness of tangled bushes. On the opposite side of the street an old store was boarded up. Memories of her and Lil skipping across that street for ice cream filtered through her mind. Pigtails flopping as they giggled and acted silly the way young girls will.

  Summers were spent in the backyard climbing trees and running through the sprinkler her mother used to water the lawn. Alabama summers could be hell on lawns and gardens. Some days her mother would prepare a picnic basket and the three of them would spread out on a blanket beneath the big maple tree Jess loved climbing. Their father was always on the road. But his homecomings were vivid recollections of hugs and presents and special dinners.

  Wanda’s tales of how Jess’s mom had been afraid of her husband, of how she feared for their lives, shattered the pleasant memories.

  “Do you want to go inside, Chief?”

  Jess shifted back to the present. There really was no need to even get out of the car.

  “Yes,” she decided. They were here. They might as well have a look.

  Hayes went through the usual routine. He got out, surveyed the street, and came around to her side of the car. When he opened the door, she climbed out and spotted her personal BPD detail parked nearby.

  Dan still hadn’t called her. What could be so important at the cemetery that he wasn’t taking calls?

  Just wait until he nagged her again about ignoring his calls.

  The sidewalk was cracked and grass had taken up residence wherever there was a gap in the old concrete. The heat and humidity were oppressive. She pulled at her blouse. August couldn’t be over soon enough.

  “Let’s try the front door,” she suggested. She had no desire to wade through the overgrown yard to have a look around back.

  Two steps led up to the porch. Sagging boards creaked with their weight. A tree had sprouted in an area that was completely rotted through. Bird nests sat on every available ledge overhead and the tops of the doors and windows. Hooks that once supported a swing at one end of the porch remained, but the swing was long gone. The remembered sound of laughter rang in Jess’s ears as images of her and Lil swaying back and forth on that old swing played inside her.

  “Is this breaking and entering?” Hayes tested the door.

  It was nailed shut but it didn’t look as if it would take much effort to change that. “We have exigent circumstances, Lieutenant. Since this house fits the profile of our crime scenes, we have to operate under the assumption there may be a victim inside.”

  He scrutinized the door. “Works for me.”

  Jess glanced around the street. Not that there was anyone who might wonder what they were doing. When had this little section of the neighborhood died?

  A lot could change in three decades. She’d always pictured this place as staying exactly the same. Even now, she half expected her mother to come out the door shouting for her and Lil to come in for dinner.

  The door burst inward. Jess jumped. She stretched the kinks from her neck, squared her shoulders and followed Hayes inside. The house was as dark as a dungeon.

  “I have a flashlight in the car.”

  “I’ll just wait here in the shade, Lieutenant.” One of the perks of being the boss was that someone else had to do the running. It was certainly cooler in here, musty and dank, but cooler.

  She checked her cell again. Still nothing from Dan.

  By the time she’d scrounged up her penlight, Hayes had returned with his flashlight. “Lead on, Lieutenant.” This was one time she was more than happy to have someone else go first.

  The front room was littered with trash. Discarded food containers and various items of clothing. No decomp smells, thank goodness. Whoever had left the mess it had been a while ago. The ash and remnants of firewood scattered across the hearth suggested the mess had been made last winter. Homeless folks often spent cold nights in abandoned houses. The floors were dirty and dusty but there were no tracks in the dust. Backed up the conclusion no one had been in the house for several months at least.

  Moving toward the dining room, Hayes suddenly stopped. The beam of the flashlight he carried paused on the wall above the doorway that separated the living area from the dining
room.

  It took several seconds for the words scrawled on the wall to penetrate the state of shock and disbelief that instinctively swaddled her brain.

  Welcome home, Jess.

  6:01 p.m.

  Jess sat on the top step as members of the crime scene unit went in and out around her. The sound of hammers and drills played like a twisted score to the comings and goings of the characters in this bad movie in which she was the leading lady. Lori and Harper had arrived. Harper and Hayes had decided to remove some of the boards over the windows to allow some light air inside. Local cops had shown up with the necessary tools. BPD’s crime scene unit showed up eventually with lots more lights. Every crack and crevice of the house would be explored.

  Lori had started with the closest neighbor to get some recent background on the property. When had the last residents lived here? Had they seen any strangers in the area? Any noise coming from the abandoned house or store?

  The intruder who’d left the message had come in through the back door. The tracks in the dust on the hardwood in that part of the house were recent.

  This was the only real home Jess had known as a child. Somehow, the intrusion felt more injurious than the break-in last month at her house in Stafford. This marred those early years—innocent years—and damaged the few precious memories she had of her parents. It made her sick to her stomach.

  Equally unsettling was the realization that, until today, she’d had no idea she was born in her aunt’s house, with said aunt participating in the delivery. The few pictures she had from her childhood were all taken here. Yet Wanda had photos that were taken at her old house—the one where the first two murder victims had been found.

  A big black Mercedes braked to a stop amid the chaos in the street. Jess’s heart lightened as Dan emerged from his SUV. She blinked at the sudden rush of tears and cursed herself. Damned hormones. As he walked toward her, she stood, fighting the urge to rush into his arms.

  “Hey.” He reached out and squeezed her hand and her entire being reacted.

  “What happened at the cemetery?” She cleared her throat and dusted off her backside. She probably had dirt and grime all over the skirt of her new suit. Lil would scold her if she found out. “You were MIA for a while.”

  “Vandalism.” He glanced toward the activity beyond the door.

  “Vandalism?” The chief of police was called out for vandalism?

  “It’s a historic cemetery, Jess.” He took her by the elbow and ushered her across the porch.

  Vandalism kept him from calling? “Spears visited Wanda.”

  Her announcement gave him pause. “When did this happen?”

  “Two weeks ago. Didn’t you get your messages?”

  “My secretary called but I…” He heaved a big breath. “I should’ve called her back.”

  “Or me,” Jess admonished.

  He held up his hands surrender style. “I won’t let it happen again.”

  “How did you know to come here?” If he hadn’t called his secretary back, how was he here now? This made no sense. Mainly she just wanted something else besides Spears, this place and the murders to be riled up about.

  “Hayes called me.”

  She raised an eyebrow at him. “You took his call but not mine?”

  “I was just about to call you back when he called.”

  What did it matter? “I’m glad you’re here.” She had no right to interrogate him just because he hadn’t responded to her messages. God knew, she did it to him all the time. They weren’t anywhere close to even on that score no matter how she tried to spin it.

  “You want to go back inside?”

  She nodded. “You should have a look.”

  They entered her childhood home together. Having Dan at her side made being here less disconcerting. Her detectives had been successful in uncovering several windows. The light filtering through their damaged and grimy panes didn’t make the rundown conditions inside look any better. A crime scene tech was still setting up the lights that would make the search for evidence considerably easier.

  The message left for Jess had been spray-painted in black across the once yellow wall. Rather than linger on the words, she moved through the house. The kitchen was in worse shape than the living and dining rooms. The backdoor hung onto its hinges by a prayer. The intruder had done a number on it.

  Down the hall were the two bedrooms and the single bathroom. The room she and Lil shared was the first one. If she’d expected to find anything there besides more dust, cobwebs and disrepair, she was disappointed. The walls had once been pink. Now they were an unhappy green. A round rug with circles of bold colors had covered most of the hardwood when they were kids. She and Lil had had twin beds and two dressers because neither had wanted to share drawers or mirrors.

  Why hadn’t Lil told her the place had fallen into ruins? Surely she’d driven by at some point in the last twenty or so years. Not that it mattered, but it just seemed strange to see their childhood home like this and not to have known.

  Dan came up behind her. “Let me take you home, Jess. There’s nothing else you can do here.”

  He was right. She and three of her team were here, wasting time. Their resources were needed elsewhere.

  Distraction was his goal.

  She’d let Spears get to her with his antics and diversions.

  Not anymore.

  14

  Parkridge Drive, Homewood, 11:30 p.m.

  Naked and still damp from their shower, Lori collapsed onto the bed. She felt more relaxed than she had in weeks despite three totally freaky murders. It had taken years but she’d had to learn to turn off work when she was home. Protecting her mental health after the abduction by Eric Spears’s apprentice had become particularly important to her sanity.

  Chet swaggered toward the bed naked as the day he was born, and she grinned. He had helped her through some difficult times.

  Mostly he had stolen her heart.

  “That was fantastic.” Chet dropped next to her.

  She snuggled closer to him. “Yes it was.”

  The silence was comfortable. She could lie here all night listening to nothing more than the sound of him breathing and the feel of his heart beating as her body melded with his.

  “The chief is really off her game this week,” he said.

  As much as she would prefer not to agree with him, it was true. “She has reason to be.”

  “That she does.”

  Lori raised up, settled her chin on his chest. “I wish we could do more. Why the hell can’t the FBI find this piece of shit? He can’t be that good.”

  Chet sent her a look. “I think you know better than that. Spears is not your run of the mill serial killer. He’s some kind of genius. Not to mention he’s rich. The guy probably has money hidden all over the world. It’s hard to find someone who has those kind of resources at his fingertips.”

  She couldn’t argue that either. “It just frustrates me. Jess has already suffered so much. It’s not fair that he keeps torturing her this way. Every time somebody dies, you can just see the toll it takes on her. She feels like it’s her fault.”

  “I know.” Chet stroked her hair. “Have you noticed that since Hayes joined the team it feels like she’s pushing us away?”

  Lori knew where he was headed with that. “I don’t think Clint is going to take your place or mine when it comes to our bond with Jess.”

  “I guess it’s an ego thing,” Chet admitted. “Feels like she’s picking him instead of one of us whenever she makes a move.”

  Lori caressed his sculpted abs. He had one hell of a six-pack. “I think maybe she’s trying to protect us. If she keeps us at a distance, maybe we won’t be targets or something.”

  Chet hissed a curse. “I need to be protecting her. Hayes doesn’t know her like I do. I should talk to her.”

  “Give her some time. She’s trying to find her footing in all this insanity. Don’t push.” Lori raked the pad of her thumb over his flat,
taut nipple. He shivered. She loved it. “I’ll talk to her when the time’s right.”

  “Before you start something I’ll have to finish,” he pulled her on top of him, breasts to chest, and wrapped his arms around her waist, “there’s something else we need to talk about.”

  She was the one shivering now. “I might have trouble concentrating in this position.” She ground her hips into his. They both shuddered.

  “It’s about Chester.”

  Lori stilled. Their weekend to have Chet’s little boy was coming up. They’d had to miss tonight’s visit. “Is Sherry trying to keep him home again?”

  Chet’s ex-wife had been behaving a little flaky lately. She was always coming up with excuses why Chester couldn’t have his visits with his father. Lori got it. The woman was worried her three-year-old would like Lori too much. All she could say was that the bitch should have thought about that when she kicked a good man like Chet to the curb.

  “I think she’s calmed down now. She didn’t go schitzo when I told her we were on a tough case and wouldn’t be able to pick him up today. She even sounded disappointed he wouldn’t get to spend time with us.”

  Lori wasn’t going to sugarcoat her feelings about the woman. “I’m glad but I don’t know if I’ll ever trust her again.”

  He kissed her nose. “I understand. She tried to mess with your head and that was wrong.”

  “What were you going to say about Chester before I butted in?” She hoped the little boy wasn’t sick.

  “After what we found out today, maybe not having Chester around until this is over is a good idea.” Pain clouded his handsome face. “What if that bastard got to him?”

  Lori saw the torment in his eyes and couldn’t bear it. “I hadn’t thought about that. You’re right. Spears or one of his pals could show up anywhere. None of us are safe from him. If he’s behind these latest murders, there’s no telling what he might do next.”