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Swallowing bile, Beth couldn’t believe he’d read her so well. “I figured it was always me because I was blonde and pretty.”
“Did you know many victims of abuse think that way?” Wolfe shook his head. “You were never to blame.”
Taking a deep breath, Beth pulled herself together. She’d never spoken to anyone about this before. “Maybe we can talk some more. I’m so over talking to shrinks. But you’re different.”
“Okay, whenever you’re ready. I’m always here to help, Beth. What we discuss is safe with me. This is nobody’s business but yours.” Wolfe walked toward the crime scene. “You can leave Cheyenne in my hands now. Go get her killer.”
Beth looked up to see Styles heading their way, blood had crusted on the neck of his shirt and his eye was turning a nasty shade of blue. “Ready to go?”
“Yeah, sure.” He looked at Wolfe. “Is Beth okay?”
“She’ll do.” Wolfe smiled at Beth and turned back down the path. “Take down this killer, before he strikes again.”
FORTY
Rattlesnake Creek
The FBI chopper was missing from the top of the building that morning, and he wondered why they weren’t investigating his murders. He liked that the media called him the Convenience Store Killer and watched every news report on his kills. He’d kept the TV turned down low in his bedroom so as not to disturb his mother, but since discovering the body of Cassidy, there’d been no follow-up news. Now the FBI had left town again, the sheriff was in his office, and the news was all about a holdup at the general store. Two men had been involved. Some idiot had drawn down on Agent Styles and the new woman agent, he didn’t recall her name, had shot off one of his fingers, and the other dude had died. No one was saying how he died. All this going on in town and his skillful shooting had only gotten a mention on the news this morning and Cheyenne’s kidnapping had been ignored. Did they know he’d murdered her? Perhaps they hadn’t found Cheyenne’s body. They should have by now. He checked his watch. It had been a couple of hours since he’d set her free and the crows would be flocking by now.
Determined to discover what was happening, he headed to the most reliable grapevine in town. The bell over the door at Tommy Joe’s Bar and Grill jingled as he pushed inside. He went to the counter and ordered a coffee and a ham on rye to go and waited, leaning nonchalantly against the counter and staring into the seating area. He smiled at TJ when he came back from giving his order to the kitchen. “No FBI in for lunch today?” He raised both eyebrows. “I imagine they’re out hunting down the Convenience Store Killer.”
“I haven’t seen them today.” TJ filled a to-go cup with coffee and pushed on the lid. “There was a murder out at Mischief. Maybe they’re out there investigating. Last time we spoke they said they might be away for a couple of days but didn’t specify when that would be.”
He shrugged. “The news didn’t say if the general store holdup was the same guy or guys, did it? Maybe the sheriff has arrested him and they are on to something else now?”
“Maybe.” TJ’s eyes narrowed. “They don’t discuss their cases with me. The sheriff did mention he’d sent the guy from the general store holdup over to County. He’s knee deep in paperwork today over that incident because one of the robbers died.” He leaned closer. “I heard from one of the hostages that they figure he drowned in liquid soap.”
Unable to stop a laugh, he looked at TJ. “So real professional criminals, huh?”
“Seems that way.” TJ turned as Wez, the chef, called out the order was ready. He handed him a bag. “You have a nice day now.”
Now came the alibi. “I don’t have to leave until one. I’m heading for the park to eat my lunch and watch the river. I’m hankering to do some fishing next weekend.”
“We buy fresh-caught fish if you have a good haul.” TJ smiled. “Don’t go over the limit now. The game warden is around.”
He chuckled, always the nice guy. “I’ll remember.”
He walked out, checking his watch. He had time to go home and make some news. Killing Cheyenne hadn’t satisfied him. He needed more. Climbing back into his van, he ate his sandwich and sipped the coffee. His mother’s voice filled his head. It was like an earwig of abuse. Nothing he could do ever made her happy. With a gun, he could control the world, he could take any woman he liked and do whatever he wanted. No one could stop him but then he’d go home and his world would fall to pieces. It had to stop. He pushed the last bite of sandwich into his mouth and drove to the park. He dropped his phone into the bag, climbed from the truck, and placed it at the bottom of a garbage bin under a few candy wrappers and an old newspaper and then headed home. If anyone traced his phone, he’d been eating his lunch in the park as usual. He lived in an old ranch-style home surrounded by trees, and his closest neighbor was half a mile away. At home, he removed his clothes in the hallway, pulled on examination gloves and covered his head with one of his mother’s stockings. He walked into the kitchen and heard her voice.
“Is that you?” She barked a laugh. “Lost your job, have you? You’re useless just like your pa. Don’t come in here making excuses. Get out and find another job. It’s up to you to take care of me. I worked my butt off keeping food on the table so you could go to school, and what do I get in return? An ungrateful son.”
He walked into the kitchen. As usual, she sat at the kitchen table with her back to the door, her feet up on a chair watching a soap on TV. “I haven’t lost my job. I just came home to see if you needed anything.”
“No, and stop whining, you’re making me miss my show. Get back to work. I’m sick of having you around.” She didn’t turn or acknowledge his presence. One hand went into a box of candy and then her attention went back to the TV.
He slid open a drawer and lifted out a hammer. With her words filling his head, he picked up a cloth and wiped the hammer all over, polishing the handle and making sure it was clean.
“Are you still here?” His mom dug into the box of candy. “No, don’t say anything. I can’t stand the sound of your voice. Just go away and leave me be.”
He weighed the hammer in his hand and stared at the back of her head. If only he could stop her talking. Even when she wasn’t around, he could still hear her like an earwig in his ear, nagging him all day long. “You need to stop nagging me, Ma. It makes me angry.”
“Angry?” His mom’s eyes never left the screen. “Weaklings like you don’t get angry. They get stomped on. You’re weak just like your pa.”
A red fog dropped over his mind. It was as if his arm had a mind of its own. Seeing everything as if from standing outside his body, he lifted the hammer and brought it down again and again on the top of his ma’s head until her chest stopped rising. Emotionless, he stood staring down at her. She was quiet at last. A burst of elation filled him and his mind was suddenly clear, so clear he didn’t have to think what to do next. He wiped blood from his body with one of her precious white towels and dried his bloody feet and then went to the bathroom and took a long shower. He tossed the soiled towels in the shower and doused them with bleach, dumped them into a bucket and then carried them to the washer. As the washer hummed away, he returned to clean the shower and then went back to the hall and dressed. Without a second look at the house, he drove back to the park,leaving his vehicle in the same secluded area. He climbed out and retrieved his phone. As he tossed the sandwich bag back into the trash, a woman walked by with two large dogs. He smiled at her. “Nice dogs.”
“Thanks.” She smiled back. “On your lunch break?”
What a perfect alibi.He nodded and checked his watch. “Yeah, and I’d better go, it’s almost one and I’ll be late back. Nice talking to you.”
