Her gaze locked on the underside of Juanita’s left thigh. Written in blood was ...E. Noon.
Chapter Forty-Four
815 Wheeler Avenue
Huntsville Police Department, 4:15 p.m.
“That’s his attorney, Suzanne Parker,” Cooper told Braddock. “She’s one of several local attorneys on retainer for his family.”
CJ stared through the viewing room mirror at Carter Cost. He sat at a table, his attorney whispering to him.
Could he have killed Shelley because he thought she was pregnant? Would he have gone that far? A file had been scattered all over the office floor at the clinic, statements Juanita had taken from several young women who lived in the village. Most of whom had been picked up and questioned in the past three hours. Every single one a foot soldier for Nash. More than half of those had confirmed Juanita’s allegations against Carter. He had used the women to satisfy his sexual perversions and to get massive quantities of Vicodin.
CJ closed her eyes and banished the images of Juanita. A wad of gauze had been stuffed into her mouth to stifle her screams. The ME had suggested that the surgery had been performed prior to death.
How that woman must have suffered.
Opening her eyes, CJ stared at the man on the other side of the glass. How could he have done such a thing? She wouldn’t have thoughthim capable. But those were his shoe prints all over the floor. His bloody handprint on the doorframe.
Were the E. Noon references his perverted way of showing that those he had murdered were nothing, no one? But CJ still couldn’t get right with the idea that it was Cost. This felt more like Tyrone’s work. The fact that Tyrone had used “no one” in his note to Braddock when his niece had been murdered could be coincidence and totally unrelated to the murders that had taken place in the village and signed E. Noon. Braddock had confirmed with Dobbins, the ME, that she had found no trace of such a signature on or in—CJ shuddered—Celeste’s body.
Did that mean that the only recent murder Tyrone was responsible for was Celeste’s?
It just didn’t feel possible that a man like Carter Cost, a man she’d known on some level for more than a decade, who had so very much to lose, could actually be capable of murders this horrific.
Nash hadn’t showed for their meeting, which looked suspicious. He hadn’t been at home when two HPD officers had gone to his house to round him up for questioning.
His absence didn’t make him guilty. Nash hadn’t known the details of what Juanita had done to Shelley and Carter. He hadn’t known the lab results were fixed. That Juanita had been playing this sick, twisted game. CJ supposed Nash could have heard through the grapevine after yesterday’s confrontation between Juanita and Carter at the North Huntsville Free Clinic, but even if he had, why would he have cared?
And if he hadn’t cared, why would he murder Juanita in such a gruesome manner? Braddock had said this kind of mutilation took one of two things: extreme evil, like a psychopath’s, or intense rage, the kind that comes with a revenge motive.
Then again, Juanita’s murderer had known something about the human body and how to access what was inside. The scalpel had been wielded with precision. A lateral incision had been made on her lower abdomen to access her uterus—which had been severed from her body. The organ hadn’t been found at the scene. Apparently the killer hadtaken it, the same way he did Shelley’s missing body part. Considering the dog had eaten portions of Ricky, it was impossible to tell if the killer had taken anything from him. But it was entirely plausible to believe that was the case.
Cost certainly possessed the skill to perform the unspeakable act. But so could pretty much anyone else with the aid of the internet and a steady hand.
Worst of all was the child. Juanita’s son had lost his mother. The reality twisted in CJ’s chest.
Pushing away the horrifying thoughts, she forced herself to pay attention to what Braddock and Cooper were discussing.
“Let’s get this party started,” Braddock said to his partner before turning to CJ. “You’re sure you want to watch this?”
She nodded. “I have to.” She doubted anything she would hear would prove more horrifying than what she’d already observed at the scene.
He squeezed her arm. Heat slid through her. Felt soothing. She was so cold inside.
“Okay,” he relented. “The chief and the district attorney will be joining you.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Braddock,” Cooper called from the door. “Let’s get this done.”
His hand fell away from CJ’s arm, but he hesitated another moment before turning away.
CJ watched him until the door had closed behind him. She thought of the way he’d made love to her this morning. They’d both needed to feel something besides this horror.
As Braddock and Cooper introduced themselves to the attorney, the door to the viewing room opened and two men entered, nodded to CJ, and took up positions next to her. One she recognized as the chief of police. The other she presumed to be the district attorney Braddock had mentioned.
“My client,” Parker began, drawing CJ’s attention to the interview room beyond the mirror, “is prepared to make a statement. You may question him, as long as I approve of the questions, but only after he has made his statement.”
