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“We need to call him back and let him know that, right now.”
She waited while he made the call; Nguyen’s voice mail picked up and he left a message.
Jo tapped her pen on the notepad. “Next up. Dantay Brown, simple motive. He and his wife are resentful that he’s in prison, and Sandra and Sakurai are the ones who put him there.”
Arnett nodded. “Ditto for David Wheedan.”
“And Cooper Ossokov may be angry he was wrongfully imprisoned. He says he isn’t, but that’s just what you’d say to the press if you were planning a murder spree,” Jo said.
“Last but not least, Bruce Ashville. I didn’t find any history of aggression for him, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there. And if Sakurai knew about some physical threat to Ashville, it would have come out in the investigation.”
“So, six suspects. Any favorites?” Jo asked.
“Hauptmann and Flynn have the strongest motives as far as I can see, since they both had strong, recent vendettas against Ashville that may have extended to Sakurai. Ossokov could be lying about being okay with his time in prison, but even if he’s willing to go right back to prison, I agree that I’m not sure I understand why he’d go after the judge that freed him. For Wheedan or Brown, in both cases a relative or spouse would have had to commit the murders, and since that wouldn’t even get their loved one out of prison, it’s harder for me to believe they’re our killers.”
“I agree. We need to check them out regardless, but since time is of the essence we need to go after our top priorities first.”
“So we prioritize Hauptmann, Flynn, and Ossokov. We’ve already talked to Flynn and Lopez is checking into her background, so we need to talk to Hauptmann and Ossokov ASAP.”
“Bring them in or pay them a visit?” Arnett asked.
Jo stood and grabbed her blazer off the back of her chair. “The faster the better. The clock is ticking.”
CHAPTERNINETEEN
Once Judge Sakurai collapsed onto the dirt, the same surge of freedom I’d had with Sandra overtook me again. Slipping the blindfold over Sakurai’s head and posing her arms felt like severing the ties that bound me. I embraced and relished it as I strode out of the garden.
The lightness wasn’t quite as strong and it didn’t last quite as long. Not surprising that the reaction would be tempered, because the easy part was over. The moment the police found Judge Sakurai, their suspicions would have narrowed considerably, so I was now walking the fine edge of a very dangerous dance in order to complete my list. I’d spent months carefully plotting out the order of everything, picking the locations and methods that would keep them from zeroing in on me for as long as possible. But it was absolutely imperative that each of my targets looked me in the eye and understood what would happen to them. From here on in the balance would be infinitely harder: while I had layers of back-up plans, keeping all the balls in motion would require all my concentration.
Once the adrenaline wore off, I was starved and fatigued. A quick trip through a McDonald’s drive-thru addressed both. As I sipped my large coffee and ate my burger and fries, I pulled out my phone and checked in on my next target. At her desk, chipping away at the tasks in front of her, her professionalism front and center.
I had mixed feelings about that. I knew she’d be busy at work today like so many days, but I preferred the rare weekends when I could watch her with her partner. They cooked together and chatted, and when they finished eating, they sipped coffee together. Smiling and laughing, with no cares in the world. Stabbing a knife through my abdomen.
Because why did she get the opportunity to build a relationship, to be loved by someone? She took it for granted, working late hours, staying away far too often. Chugging coffee and slaving away, always serious. Always stressed.
But today she had a different look to her: she looked afraid.
Had she made the connection? Had she realized I was coming?
A warm feeling settled over me like a cozy blanket and a blazing fire on a cold winter’s night. Watching her own peace be destroyed was a balm to my own, so much so I almost wished I could postpone killing her to revel in the sensation. Maybe shuffle the order of everything so I could watch her a little longer? Maybe send an ambiguous letter, or call her and hang up a few times to poke at the wound? But no. All the pieces were in place, and everyone was looking where I wanted them to. Changing anything would only get me caught, and that would weaken my message.
So, I refocused my attention on the next step of the plan. Like Sakurai, she was rarely alone, in this case because of her busy schedule.
Luckily, I’d found the perfect way to exploit that. One she’d never see coming.
CHAPTERTWENTY
Mitch and Frieda Hauptmann’s house turned out to be an oddly sprawling ranch-style home with three distinct connected sections each made of different material: one section covered in navy clapboard, the next in gray slate, and the final, which appeared to be the garage, in natural wood. All together it gave the impression of a caterpillar changing form as it struggled across the green lawn toward the dense surrounding trees.
“Looks like the construction team went with whatever was on sale that day,” Arnett said as they exited the car.
“My guess is if the Hauptmanns had to uproot quickly, they didn’t have much chance to be picky about their new place,” Jo said.
The front door opened as they crossed the lawn. A muscular white man in his late forties, well over six feet tall, with a blond buzz cut, angry blue eyes, and a black Korn T-shirt over his jeans, peered through the screen. Definitely not the sort of man you wanted to meet in a dark alley, and most likely very much used to making things go the way he wanted them to.
“Can I help you?” he barked.
Jo doubted he had any intention of helping anybody with anything, and she watched his face as she slid her blazer aside to reveal her badge. His eyes widened, and he took a physical step back from the screen.
