Don't Say a Word (21 page)

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Authors: Beverly Barton

Tags: #romantic thriller

BOOK: Don't Say a Word
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Julia got into the Charger and pulled the door shut. She sat with her hands on the steering wheel, unsettled by the fact that Audrey had brought up her concerns about Julia’s state of mind. That awful night when Bobby died was the one thing she never, ever discussed. That was something she handled on her own and in her own time. She’d gotten a handle on it a long time ago, and unless startled by a similar situation or a terrible dream, she was dealing with it okay; at least, so far, she was. She sat silently in the car for a while, thinking about it. Thinking about how Bobby had bled to death in her arms. How she’d heard him take his last breath. How his last word had been her name, his dark blue eyes riveted on her face. Her breath caught, and she quickly forced that image out of her mind, the way she always did. It was over, past, done with, don’t think about it.
Turning the ignition key, she pumped the accelerator a few times and let the old engine run a bit. She was going to have to make buying a new car a priority or she’d never get it done. She knew that J.D. planned to give the Charger to Zoe someday, when she was older and able to appreciate the car’s sentimental value. That was one reason he was still working on it, trying to get the motor and body in top-notch, pristine condition. Julia just hadn’t had the time to go car shopping, not with a killer slashing his way through Chattanooga. Maybe she’d get a truck like Will’s. Jasper would love to ride around in that. Yep, she would like that, too. And she’d get it in white because she played for the good guys’ team.
Heading home, she planned to do more research on Roc VanVeter’s life and career. Tam was done with her part in the trial now and had offered to take over the search into the judge’s past cases. Julia had already run a search for Roc VanVeter and Judge Lockhart, trying to find a connection between the two of them, but hadn’t got that many promising hits. There were many news articles mentioning that Roc VanVeter had blasted Judge Lockhart on some ruling or another, but nothing that really might lock them together in a killer’s crosshairs. She intended to keep looking until she found a good lead. There had to be something that was connecting the two murders. There was no way these crimes could be random. This was the exact same MO, the same carefully constructed crime scene, with just a few varying factors. She just hoped to God that the murderer didn’t kill again before they identified him.
When she neared a grocery store on her right, she realized that her fridge was basically empty, the cupboards bare, so she pulled into the parking lot. The store was busy, lots of people buying their weekend supply of ground beef and hot dogs, buns, sodas, and chips for Saturday’s cookout on the grill. She picked up some salad greens, tomatoes, and cucumbers, a few frozen en-trées for nights like tonight when she didn’t have the time or energy to cook for herself, a case of bottled water, 7UP, and a few other staples she needed.
The store was unusually crowded. Everybody was rushing around like they were on a racetrack—carts rattling, many customers talking loudly on their cell phones—so she cut the grocery shopping short. She went through checkout and pushed her cart of groceries out to where she’d left the Charger.
Audrey had insisted on sending some leftovers home with her, and Julia wasn’t one to argue with a free and already exquisitely prepared meal. She considered herself pretty good in the kitchen, too. She had pretty much run the household when she and J.D. were left alone after their daddy’s death. But on the days she spent hunting down a psychopath, a mutilating killer, she just wasn’t up for handling raw food. Drink, maybe, if it was something strong. The only other home-cooked food she was likely to get in the near future was at Cathy’s when she and Will joined the Axelrods for dinner. Which reminded her, she thought belatedly on the drive home, she had forgotten to pick up the bottle of wine that she had decided to take to the dinner party.
So that meant yet another stop. She pulled up to an upscale package store along the way and decided on a bottle of Beringer white zinfandel; not her favorite, but she did know it was Cathy’s. She made a few more stops, picking up her dry cleaning, checking in for a moment at her desk at police headquarters down on Wisdom Street, where she dropped off some paperwork for Chief Mullins. CPD was pretty deserted, so she headed home, anxious to hit the Internet for a more thorough search.
When she passed the Axelrods’ log cabin, all was quiet and deserted. Lonnie’s car was gone and so was Charlie’s bass boat, which had been there earlier, so she suspected Charlie had returned home and Cathy and Lonnie were out running errands. When she reached the boathouse, Jasper was parked inside the screen door, wagging his tail, as pleased as punch to see her. She grabbed her groceries and let him run out the screen door and prowl around down by the river, very feisty after being cooped up all day. She unpacked the milk and fresh fruit and put them in the fridge, then walked back outside for the dry cleaning and wine. As she gathered up her clothes, she saw a UPS package sitting in the back window of her car. She hadn’t noticed it before, but she knew for a fact that it hadn’t been there when she’d left the boathouse earlier that day on her way to Audrey’s town house on Second Street.
Immediately alert, she unsnapped her holster and pulled out her weapon, her gaze quickly searching the yard and surrounding woods. She stared out over the swift current but detected no boats anywhere on the river. Who had put the package inside the Charger? And when? Where? Instinctively knowing it had something to do with the Tongue Slasher, she sheathed her gun, grabbed a pair of latex gloves, and snapped them on. Keeping a wary eye on the thick undergrowth alongside the riverbank, where Jasper was now sniffing out a squirrel, she opened the door and got her first good look at the package.
When she saw what was written on the front of the tan mailing envelope, she tensed and again searched her surroundings. PROVERBS 10:31 in black marker. The Tongue Slasher was sending them another message, one he wanted to make sure they received in person. He had been inside her car. The idea made her stomach turn over.
Taking care, she picked up the package and examined the wrapping. It was a used UPS box, left unsealed. When she opened the end, she saw the DVD inside. Oh God, she hoped the killer hadn’t filmed the murders for them to watch. The sinking sensation in her stomach, however, and her sixth sense, told her that was exactly what they were going to find recorded on that DVD.
Pulling out her cell phone, she punched in Will’s number. He picked up on the second ring. “Yeah, Cass? What’s up?”
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
“How quick can you get to my place?”
“What’s wrong? You okay?”
“Yes, but guess what the killer left in my car?”
“Oh my God, what? Not part of a tongue?”
“A DVD with
Proverbs 10:31
written on the front of the mailing envelope.”
“You sure he’s not still around there? He could be watching you.”
“I’ve been looking, believe me. I don’t think anybody’s out here creeping around. Jasper would’ve let me know a long time ago. He doesn’t like strangers.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes, fifteen tops.”
Julia carried the DVD inside, very carefully handling the evidence. Forensics would have to dust it for prints, but her hunch told her they weren’t going to find anything usable, at least not usable in court. If the perp had managed to clean up the gory crime scenes without leaving a trace of himself, he sure as hell wasn’t going to be careless enough to leave fingerprints on a package that he delivered in person to the police.
It wasn’t long before she heard the sound of a boat’s motor coming upriver. She hurried out onto the porch, thinking it might be Charlie. He visited Lonnie often, but it didn’t sound like a bass boat. It sounded like one of those big racing speedboats that passed her place from time to time. A minute later, she was shocked to see Will Brannock fly into view, in one of said big, sleek racing boats. He maneuvered the long black-and-red craft beside her little dock with expert ease, tied up, jumped out, and ran up the steps.
“Any sign that he’s been here?” was his greeting. “Do we need to call in forensics?”
“No. It doesn’t look like he placed it in the car out here. If anybody ever came up my road, I’m sure Cathy and Lon would’ve seen him pass their house. I’ll ask them, but I don’t think he’d take that chance.”
“Have you played it?”
“No. I figured you’d want me to wait. Maybe assemble the rest of the task force before we watched it.”
“Where was it in your car?”
“In the back window.”
“Don’t you lock your car?”
“No.”
He gave her a disapproving frown. “Well, you should. You have any idea when he put it in?”
Julia shook her head. “Not a clue as to where, but I’m fairly certain the package wasn’t there when I left for Audrey’s this morning. I can’t say anything else for sure. I stopped at several places on the way home. He could’ve done it then. He could’ve done it when I was parked outside Audrey’s house, for all I know. We can look at the parking lot videotapes at the grocery store to see if he did it there.”
“We will. Where else did you stop?”
“After the grocery store, the dry cleaners, and a wine and cheese shop.”
Will was frowning, eyes intently roaming the surrounding woods. “I don’t like him getting that close to you.”
That surprised Julia, all right, but she could see that the concern in his eyes was real. “Well, I don’t, either, trust me. Rest assured, nobody’s going to sneak up on me out here, not with Jasper around. He’ll bark the minute he hears anything.”
“Yeah? Well, Jasper’s not always awake. He didn’t bark at me the other day when I showed up out here early in the morning, if you’ll remember.”
“True, but I am a trained police officer. I can take care of myself.”
Will’s frown deepened. “I got all the way to your front door the other day.”
“True, and I had my weapon pointed at you before you got inside.”
Surprisingly, Will didn’t argue with that. “I know, but this guy’s a psychotic killer, and he’s picked you out to deal with. That makes you a target. He’s obviously been tailing you. I don’t like this. Especially when you didn’t suspect you were being followed.”
Will was right, and Julia couldn’t deny the implications. “Don’t worry. I’ll be careful from here on out. What about the DVD? You ready to watch it?”
Will hesitated. “Yeah, where is it? Maybe he’s gone and made a big mistake this time, pulling this kind of dangerous stunt.”
“I wouldn’t count on him making stupid mistakes. He’s been a clever boy so far.”
Inside the boathouse Will put on the gloves Julia handed him and pushed the DVD into the slot on her laptop with one finger. “Get ready, Cass. My gut tells me that this is not going to be pretty.”
“Tell me about it.”
Will hit the play button, and they sat side by side, saying nothing, just watching the static that appeared on the screen. The picture flashed on a couple of seconds later. It was a video of one of the murders, all right, just as they had feared. Judge Lockhart was bound to a white iron chair on his back veranda. He was sitting upright, forehead strapped to the tall back of the chair, his eyes bulging wide and filled with fear. Rivulets of sweat streamed down his face, and he seemed to freeze as a voice came out of the darkness behind the camera. The voice was distorted electronically, sounding hollow and gruff and inhuman: “Don’t say a word . . . don’t ask me for mercy . . . the fraudulent tongue shall be cut out.”
Then the camera panned down the judge’s naked chest, past his white swim trunks and bound legs to the floor of the porch. There, set out in precise order, lay the metal scales, a big pair of pliers, a well-honed, twelve-inch fillet knife, and a coiled length of yellow ski rope. Julia cringed and had to force herself to watch as the actual murder went down.
“He’s showing himself,” Will said, leaning closer to the screen.
Julia watched the killer move toward the camera. He was dressed in black, his face hidden by a black ski mask. He held up the tongue in one black-gloved hand for the camera to record, cut off the tip, and then placed the other part on one side of the scales. He carefully stacked a handful of dimes on the other side. The screen went back to static.
Will ejected the DVD and looked at Julia. “He wants us to find him. He’s helping us. I think he’s frustrated that we haven’t yet.”
“Or he wants us to know why he’s doing this. Maybe we’re not catching on to his clever little enigmatic clues the way he thinks we should. Maybe he wants us to follow the leads in a certain way, go through this exactly the way he set things up. Could be that he’s not exactly happy with us or the news media’s take on his murders.”
“He’s got his own murderous agenda, Julia, and he’s carrying it out one step at a time. He knows who we are. He has already contacted you. That puts you in danger. You’ve got to be careful. This man is seriously deranged.”
“He seems pretty deliberate to me. I think he’s out for revenge, getting rid of one perceived enemy at a time. All we have to do is tie all this together and we’ll get him.”

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