AllFreeNovel
Share Us
William’s offices were in a strip mall a few miles from the cemetery where he was found dead. It was a low-rent strip mall, but clean and well-maintained. The office was also clean and well-maintained. If William Hucksley once had colleagues, he had shed them—or they him—before he rented this office, and the only desk beside his own was a small, fiberboard affair with a telephone and a cheap desktop computer that Faith assumed belonged to a receptionist. She looked through William’s desk and found a number for a Ms. Ariel Bennett, who agreed to meet them and help them look through her boss’s files.
Ms. Bennett arrived five minutes later. She was in her late twenties and looked like a ring girl with a toned body that was curvy where it needed to be and perky where it needed to be. She had a flirtatious smile and hair that seemed to shimmer far more brightly than its nut-brown tone had any right to shimmer. Faith wondered briefly if she and the good lawyer had been more than just associates, but she detected only a token amount of grief in Ms. Bennett’s demeanor and decided that probably wasn’t the case.
Ms. Bennett let them into the computer system and navigated to the requested file. “I can’t believe Jerry would do that. He seemed like such a nice old man.” She thought for a moment, then said, “I mean, wedidrepresent Dr. Ames against him, but still, he doesn’t seem the type to hurt a fly.”
Her eyes widened, and she looked at Faith. “You don’t thinkI’min danger, do you?”
“It’s not likely,” Michael said while Faith leafed through the file, “but you should avoid leaving your house at night, and when you do go out, you should stay with friends if possible. Do you live alone?”
“With my wife,” she said.
Well, that answered the question about a relationship between William and Ariel. “I don’t think you’re in any kind of danger,” Michael said. “We don’t know for sure that Mr.… Jerry, you said?”
Ariel nodded, her hair bouncing prettily. “Jeremiah Hunt. I remember because he sounded like a mountain man. He must have looked like one too, back in the day. He’s older now.”
“Did you interact with Mr. Hunt?” Faith asked.
“No, I only saw the pictures. He just seemed like such a nice old man. I felt really bad about taking money from him like that.” She lifted her hands. “But that’s the way it happens sometimes. Besides, the side effects weren’t Dr. Ames’s fault. That’s what Billy said, anyway.”
Faith finished scanning the file and handed it to Michael. She smiled at Ariel and said, “Thank you for your help, Ms. Bennett. You’re free to go now. We’ll contact you if we have any further questions.”
Ms. Bennett nodded and said, “I feel really bad for Christopher. That’s Billy’s son. They had a great relationship, even though he took his mom’s side in the divorce. I hope he’s doing okay. Maybe I should go see him. I’ll ask Tina if she can bake some cookies.”
“Maybe,” Faith said. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your car.”
Ms. Bennett continued to prattle as Faith walked her to the car. Faith thought wryly that Tina must have married her for her looks. She felt a touch of guilt at the thought, but she forgot about it the moment she walked back inside and saw Michael smiling.
“Everything we hoped?” she asked.
“Well, it’s too soon to tell,” he said, “and considering the setbacks we’ve suffered so far, I don’t want to get my hopes up, but we definitely have a suspect.”
Faith nodded. “I agree. He’s a little on the older side, but he’s got motive, he’s connected to all three victims, and get this, he used to work as a funeral home director that contracted with all three cemeteries where the victims were found.”
“I got it,” Michael said, lifting the file. “Shall we go talk to him?”
“Lead the way,” Faith said, gesturing to the door.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Another shocking development in the case of the Gravedigger killings when a third victim, fifty-two-year-old William Hucksley of Bellaire, was found buried in the Sam Houston Memorial Cemetery. Police have refused to share details with the media about the ongoing investigation, but observers in the neighborhood observed the police frantically digging up two different graves at the cemetery in an ultimately futile attempt to save Hucksley’s life.”
The news anchor continued to rattle off details about the story. He sipped his coffee and listened for any sign that the police were on his trail. There weren’t any, but if they were being tight-lipped like the media was saying, then they could very well have a lead and simply be keeping it close to their chest. It would be the intelligent thing to do, relative to their worldview, at least.
The open grave was a lucky chance. He knew he was running out of room to operate. If they had figured out that he was burying his targets in the cemeteries where their families were buried, then he could be in real trouble. His only hope was that they didn’t put two and two together and figure out who his next target was or the game was probably up.
It was cheesy and frankly annoying that he had to resort to trickery like the note and the jacket, but if he could throw them off the trail briefly, he might be able to get the last one done without putting himself at unnecessary risk.
He felt a rush of annoyance and turned the TV off. Why were they digging them up? They were supposed to be laid to rest. It was obscene. They deserved their deaths, but there was no need to desecrate their graves like that. It was just disgusting.
And what if they found his next target before she died? They were given a chance to escape, yes, but it had to be fair. They didn’t deserve any extra help. The bell was supposed to be a fair test of whether they deserved to die or not. If they deserved to live, then God would move the hearts of others to help them. The cops weren’t supposed to be snooping around with dogs giving them an unfair advantage, an advantage Mandy never had.
A voice in his head reminded him that someone actuallyhadheard William Hucksley’s bell and called the police, which, the voice pointed out, was fair and within the rules.
He dismissed the voice irritably. That wasn’t the same.
How exactly is it not the same?the voice asked drily, and now it sounded like his mother.
“It justisn’t!” he shouted.
