The mercy they received would be equal to the mercy they showed Leah.
In other words, there would be none.
Tuesday, February 24,
10:00 p.m.
Kristen’s eyes widened when they pulled into her driveway. The cruiser was conspicuously absent. „What happened to Truman?“
„They needed to pull him back onto patrol. Half a dozen guys called in with the flu and Central was scrambling to fill their shifts. I told them it was okay.“
There was silence for a moment from the passenger seat. Then quietly she said, „Because you said you’d stay with me.“ They hadn’t discussed it until now. In his mind it had been a given, but he could practically see the wheels of indecision turning in her head and he understood. The other two nights he’d stayed had been special cases. Both times she’d been attacked. Last night, his own father had stayed, a respectable guard. But tonight was different. Just a man and a woman alone in her house. To say he hadn’t fantasized the possible outcomes would be a lie. One part of his brain was fantasizing at this very moment and he was grateful for the darkness that surrounded them. „I’ll sleep on your couch.“
She leaned back, turning only her head to look at him. „You would, wouldn’t you?“
„Yes,“ he replied without hesitation. „Until you decide otherwise, yes.“
One side of her mouth lifted. „So it’s up to me?“
He didn’t smile. „Totally.“
„Will you at least kiss me good night?“
He did smile at that. „Just don’t ask me to tuck you in. My principles are only so strong.“ Without giving her time to comment, he helped her down, then reached for the laptop bag she had in one hand and the Marshall Field’s shopping bag in the other. „What’s in the bag?“
„Magazines,“ she said over her shoulder. „Annie and I were talking about redoing my kitchen while we were peeling potatoes. She loaned me the magazines so I could get some ideas. I’m thinking about tearing out a wall and doubling the size. Maybe doing a French Provincial style. You can take a look at the pictures and tell me – “
She broke it off with a startled exclamation and a second later he saw why. The side of her house by her kitchen door was covered in black spray paint. Blade graffiti, six feet tall. A long horizontal line trailed toward the back of her house, a stylized arrowhead at its end.
„I’ll get a light. Stay here.“ He deposited the bags at her feet, got a heavy flashlight from the SUV, then carefully walked along the edge of her house, his weapon drawn, shining the light on the snow until he found what the gang had left behind. „Shit.“
„What?“ she said from behind him and he jumped.
„Dammit, Kristen, I told you to stay by the door.“ But it was too late. His admonition was interrupted by her sharp intake of breath.
„Oh, Abe, no.“
„Hold this and don’t move.“ He handed her the light and pulled out his cell phone and hit Mia’s speed dial. „Come to Kristen’s,“ he said. „We just found Aaron Jenkins.“
Chapter Eighteen
Wednesday, February 25,
8:00 a.m.
„Let’s get started,“ Spinnelli called from his position by the whiteboard. The side conversations ceased. There was a subdued energy in the room, Kristen thought. They finally, finally had a lead to follow, but they also had a new body in the morgue. Aaron Jenkins’s throat had been slit, his body left to freeze in the shadows of her backyard. The gang members must have driven by her house and seeing no cruiser in front, seized their opportunity. The threat was clear. Anyone helping the vigilante was fair game for gang retribution. And Kristen was still at the top of their list.
The conference room table was filled. The core team was there plus Julia, Todd Murphy from Spinnelli’s department, and Miles Westphalen, their staff psychologist. „What do we have, people? Abe?“
„A name to go with our bullet,“ Abe said. „Hank Worth. Problem is, he’s been dead for sixty years.“
Spinnelli’s marker squeaked as he wrote the name. „And?“
„Genny O’Reilly, his intended,“ Mia said. „She up and married someone else two months after he shipped out. I may have seen too many old movies, but that sounds like she fell for the old I-may-not-come-back-from-the-war line and found herself eating for two. If that’s the case, their child would be about sixty.“
Spinnelli considered it. „Sixty seems a bit old for our humble servant.“
„Many sixty-year-olds are quite fit,“ Westphalen said mildly.
Spinnelli smiled. „Point taken, Miles.“
„Well, whoever we’re dealing with,“ Jack said, „has to have above-average strength. How much did the heaviest victim weigh, Julia?“
Julia pulled out her notes. „Ramey weighed 220. Ross King, 251. The others were all lower. But I think he used a cart or gurney or something with wheels.“
„Why?“ Abe asked sharply.
„There were no signs of dragging the bodies. No scratches on their backs, no bruising at the ankles, wrists, or under the arms that would be consistent with grabbing and pulling with any force. There were marks from the rope he used to bind their wrists and ankles, but that looks very different from a grabbing bruise. If he used a gurney, he wouldn’t need that much strength. He’d just need to roll them.“
„But could a sixty-year-old even roll a man that big?“ Jack asked.
Mia held up her hand. „First, let us check the records to see if Genny O’Reilly had a child at all before we get carried away on his possible age. Then we’ll check marriage and birth records on her children’s children. Hank and Genny’s grandchildren would be anywhere from twenty to forty years old and that’s just the right age.“
„If this lead proves true,“ said Miles thoughtfully, „your killer would have had to know his biological father’s identity to get the bullet mold or at a minimum the Worth family’s maker’s mark. I’m wondering about the man Genny O’Reilly married. How would he react to having a child that wasn’t his? How would the child be treated? If there were other children born later, would the first child, the bastard child, be singled out? It could lead to feelings of resentment and anger.“ Westphalen shrugged. „Or it could mean nothing.“
„Get Genny O’Reilly’s records and find out,“ Spinnelli said. „What else do we have?“
Abe leaned forward. „The old man, Grayson James, said he and Hank Worth would go up to Worth’s father’s property and practice their shooting. Mia, do you remember the other day when you thought he might have a private target range?“
Mia’s eyes gleamed. „We can check property records for land owned by the Worths.“
Spinnelli’s marker squeaked as he wrote. „What else?“
„I’ve been working on identifying the chain he used to strangle Ramey,“ Jack said. „We made a cast of the ligature marks and I found a few men’s chains that are similar in size.“ He laid three chains on the table. „The one closest to the plaster cast is the middle one.“
„Dog tags,“ Spinnelli said. „I’ve seen men wear then-dog tags on a chain like this.“
Mia brought a chain from under her blouse. „Like this?“ A set of military ID tags hung from the end of the chain.
„My dad gave me his tags when I joined the force. Said his tags kept him alive in ‘Nam and hoped they’d keep me alive in uniform.“
„We already thought he could have been military, being a sharpshooter,“ Abe said, excitement in his voice. „It makes sense.“
Spinnelli paced from the whiteboard to the table and back again. „Good, good. Track him down and if you run into any problems with military records, let me know. I’ll get the governor involved.“ He grimaced. „It’ll give him something to do so he’ll stop calling the mayor who’ll stop calling me. Anything else?“ No one said anything and Spinnelli pointed to Detective Murphy, who’d been sitting quietly. „Murphy, update us on Munoz’s gun.“