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“Yeah, we’d never find time to eat otherwise.” Jenna smiled as Susie filled two cups with coffee then left the pot and fixings. “Thanks, Susie.”
“Your order will be right out.” Susie frowned at Jenna. “You feeling okay, Sheriff? You look a might pale today.”
“We’ve come from an autopsy.” Jenna lifted her cup. “It wasn’t pleasant.”
“Oh, I see.” Susie looked mortified. “I’ll be back before you know it.” She hurried away.
Kane sat back in his seat, running the case through his mind. “We need to find Jacobs’ pinky ring.” He glanced at Jenna over the rim of his cup. “If it’s bulky, like the impression Wolfe found on Chrissie’s arm, it places him at the scene of the rape and gives Phillip Stein a motive.”
“How would he know Jacobs was involved?” Jenna gave him an inquisitive stare.
“Jacobs and Lyons were like this.” Kane crossed his fingers and held them up. “They’re roommates and Stein knows Chrissie went on a date with Lyons the night of the rape. It’s also likely Lyons was in the vehicle that gave her a ride to the party. From what we know about Chrissie, it’s unlikely she’d have gotten a ride from a stranger, which tells me the rapists planned to use the janitor’s car.”
“Hmm.” Jenna stared into the distance. “Do you figure Stein would kill on a hunch?”
Kane shrugged. “He knew Chrissie; for all we know he could’ve followed her to the house.” He sipped his coffee. “He might be able to provide the missing link we need to prove Chrissie was there. If he hung around until she left, he’d have a pretty good idea what happened to her.”
“Yeah, but murder?” Jenna shook her head. “If he was a friend and saw her dumped on the lawn outside her dorm, he’d help her… maybe call the paramedics, not leave her alone.”
Kane placed his cup on the table. “Maybe she didn’t want his help—she’d been drugged and raped. I figure the last thing a woman would need would be a man around.”
“Maybe, but then she had her roommate.” Jenna frowned. “We still don’t know for sure if she killed herself. Someone could’ve taken her into her room and staged the suicide. The idea she killed herself doesn’t fit her outgoing profile. Women are speaking out now, and the support network is there. If we consider Lyons’ father might have offered her compensation to keep her mouth shut, it makes less sense. It had to be something or someone else.”
Kane rubbed his chin. “Like I’ve said before, the men who pack-rape a woman and get away with it usually have some way of intimidating her to keep her silence.”
“I guess so. But whether or not she committed suicide isn’t the issue right now, it’s who killed Jacobs.” She sighed. “It ties in; two deaths happening so close together is more than a coincidence. When you looked around Lyons and Jacobs’ room, did you notice a ring?”
Kane shook his head. “I wasn’t looking for one, but even if he wore it regularly, it would make sense for him to remove it to lift weights. I’d say it’s in his locker at the gym.” He sighed. “We’d need a warrant to search it.”
“Not if we asked the parents if we could collect his things. I’ll call Wolfe and find out if they’ve arrived to view the body yet.” Jenna pulled out her cellphone and made the call. “Has Jacobs’ family arrived yet?”
“Yeah, they’re waiting in my office to view the body.” Wolfe cleared his throat. “What do you need?”
“Permission to go through his locker at the gym.” Jenna exchange a glance with Kane. “We’re chasing down his pinky ring. If it matches the mark on Chrissie Lowe’s arm, it will place him at the scene during the rape.”
“Sure, I’ll ask them to sign a statement to the fact, and I guess you’ll want to include his bedroom?”
“Yeah, and we’ll need you there as well, but I figure Lyons is too smart to leave any evidence.” Jenna glanced up as Susie delivered their meals and paused until she walked away. “Do you have time this afternoon?”
“I’ll make time.” Wolfe’s voice lowered. “If this is a group of predators, we need to take them down and soon.”
“We sure do.” Jenna frowned. “Let me know when you have the doc signed. We’re heading over to the college to interview Owen Jones.”
“Oh, I’ll get it signed.” Wolfe disconnected.
Fifteen
There was something special about sitting in Aunt Betty’s Café watching the world go by. The tourists invading Black Rock Falls amused him, and now with a string of psychopathic killer novels on the market, the place was humming. It was as if people flocked here on the off chance they’d be involved in a brutal murder. He shook his head. It didn’t work that way; most killers had a darn good reason to snuff out the life of a stranger. He’d always been an observer of life, from the strangest of insects to the biggest predator of all: man. He liked being a dominant male. A predator.
People needed to face facts. Nothing law enforcement could do would stop a psychopath hell-bent on killing. They’d walk over hot coals to reach their target, and no amount of sweet-talking would make them stop. When the urge came along, the control vanished like water vapor. He wouldn’t consider himself a psychopath because he only killed people who deserved it.
He took another bite of his burger and chewed slowly. His attention moved to the sheriff. A woman of average height in her thirties, attractive with raven-black hair that hung like wet silk to her shoulders. The bare arms protruding from her regulation shirt showed a muscular definition from working out regularly, which made him believe she preferred to handle situations herself rather than rely on her deputies. His attention slid down to her small hands with neat nails. She wore only one ring, no wedding band, and he wondered why she’d remained single in a town dominated by men. Although, he’d never seen her without the big deputy at her side, and the way they leaned toward each other, they acted like friends.
He wished they’d sat closer to him, so he could listen in on their animated conversation. He craved information, but after watching the news and listening to the scuttlebutt around campus, he’d discovered little about the investigation into Jacobs’ death. He’d done his job well and people wouldn’t be wary if the sheriff believed his death had been an accident. Suspicious people caused problems by noticing things they normally missed.
The day was dragging, each hour moving so slow it was as if the hands on the clock had stopped then suddenly decided to move again fifteen minutes later. He stared at his empty coffee cup and sighed. After planning his next move to the second, he had little to do but wait until dark.
The waitress left the sheriff’s table and headed his way to refill his cup. She gave him a bright smile and he felt his mouth curling up to return it. “Why thank you, ma’am.”
