Murder! Too Close To Home (32 page)

April 3, 1997

“Now what does that mean?” a frustrated Frank asks in exasperation.

“She’s gone, went home sick, about forty five minutes ago.”

“That’s around the time that I saw her.”

We all turned around to look at the source of the statement. Matt Brady stood there with a questioning look on his face.

“Well, it’s probably been more like an hour by now. I saw her walking across the courtyard as I was walking in. Of course, like I said, I didn’t know her name then. I kind of looked down and pretended I hadn’t seen her, seemed kind of awkward at the time.”

I stood silent for a moment before saying, “I’ll be right back.”

I left the room and the building. Crossing the courtyard, I entered the sheriff’s offices and headed for friendly territory. I was probably closer to Tucker than anyone in his department. More to the point, I trusted him. Pulling up at his desk, I flipped his perp chair and sat with my arms folded on the back of the piece of aluminum furniture.

Glancing up at me, he leaned back in his chair with a smile before announcing, “Gabriel, to what do I owe the honor?”

“I need to find your girl Jane.”

Glancing over at her empty desk, he turned back saying, “She went home sick, probably about an hour ago.”

“She seem that way all day?” I asked.

“No, she seemed fine this morning when she got here. She left for a little while, and when she came back she was white as a ghost. Saw her making a phone call, then she said she had to go, figured it was the flu.”

I sat still for a few seconds, mulling over the story. There was a lot of the flu going around, or could it be the sight of the trooper triggering the ‘sickness’ she was now exhibiting? This wasn’t making any sense at all.

“Listen,” I started again, “can you get in touch with her? I need to talk to her about something.”

“Sure thing,” Tucker responded, picking up his phone and punching in some numbers before leaning back comfortably in his chair to wait. After a few seconds his face showed slight confusion as he leaned back up and clicked off the phone.

“Answering machine,” he said as he punched in another series of numbers, again leaning back in his chair, this time not so comfortable. Another wait, another confused look, again clicking off, “no answer on her cell either,” he muttered.

“Can you have someone run by her place and check on her?” I asked, more than a little concerned by her disappearance…in more ways than one.

“I really need to see her today.”

“Sure,” Tucker replied, getting on the phone once again to arrange things with dispatch.

“What’s this all about anyway?”

Thinking quickly, I mentioned that we had some records we needed to go over with her on the investigation. Not
too
far from the truth I was thinking.

That seemed to satisfy him, and he said he would get in touch with me when he found out anything.

I headed back to my office, my mind awash with conflicting thoughts. As I entered the conference room; Betty and Frank looked at me questioningly. I gave a little shrug and looked over at the sergeant.

“If you’ve finished your statement, you’re free to pack up your equipment and go, however, keep this conversation under your hat for now.”

He seemed relieved as he nodded and quickly started packing his gear. I indicated to the others to follow me to the other conference room, sitting down at the table once we arrived.

“Tucker indicated that she seemed fine until an hour ago. He also said she made one phone call before she left. Betty, can you see if you can track that call?”

“Yep,” she said determinedly before getting up from the table and leaving the room.

“Are we all thinking what I’m thinking here?” asked Frank, disbelief written all over his face.

“We only have the barest of circumstantial evidence right now, Frank…hardly enough to jump to any kind of rational conclusion.”

“There
are
plenty of inconsistencies if you think about it,” Frank rationalized.

“Our ‘Jasmine’ has blonde hair for one, and Jane doesn’t seem the type at all. She
is
a very efficient manager in the sheriff’s department. Why would she have it out for the department she manages so well, as Jasmine seems to have?”

“Might help explain how all of that evidence got out of here though,” I brought up, voicing the thought as it hit my brain.

While Frank was thinking about that, the conference room phone rang. “Celtic,” I answered upon picking it up.

“
Gabe!
” Betty said as her excitement came through over the line, “
the call was made to Ellen…our Ellen!”

“I called her to ask about the call; she said that Jane just asked why the polygraph operator was here. Ellen told her we were questioning him over some discrepancies about the test. Ellen also stated that it was very strange that she then just hung up, no goodbye, very out of character according to Ellen.”

“Thanks,” I replied, suddenly very concerned, “Get back here as soon as you can, will ya?”

As I hung up the receiver my mind started to race, and I did not like the implications of everything I now knew. A sudden epiphany crowded its way into my head,
the vision
.

I ran out of the conference room, crashing in through the doorway of the other conference room.

Empty.

I turned again and ran down the hallway and exited the building where I saw the state cruiser starting out of the parking lot. I ran full tilt on an intercepting course, trying to stop the sergeant before he exited the property, my street shoes sliding dangerously on the leftover winter road sand.

I arrived at the exit of the lot only seconds before the trooper. His tires screeched to a halt as I threw my hands on his hood to keep him from hitting my legs.

A much surprised Sergeant Brady looked at me out the windshield, his hands gripping the wheel tightly. I slowly stood up, but waited to catch my breath before approaching the driver’s window. He stared at me for a few more moments before rolling the window down.

“Just one more question, Sergeant,” I wheeze, hands on knees while I catch my breath before speaking again. “Did Jane have any tattoos that you noticed?”

“Oh,” he said, seemingly relieved it was nothing more serious, “you mean the snake?”

Chapter 90

April 3, 1997

I was surprised at the revelation, yet not surprised at all.

“Describe it for me please.”

“Starts in the middle of her back and curves up to the back of her shoulder.” The state trooper then looked around him as if to confirm we were alone.

“Very sexy, if you don’t mind me saying.”

I kind of
did
mind. That was the last thing I wanted to hear about the woman at that moment. I let it go though, and thanked the sergeant for the information as I turned to walk back to the office.

I entered the conference room a few minutes later to find Frank and Betty sitting at the table awaiting my return, their faces anxious for answers. I slumped down in a chair, folded my hands on the table and looked upon my partners.

“There is another story you guys need to hear, a story from one of my dreams.”

I then revealed the contents of my latest dream, how this woman seemed quite taken with her body, and would it seemed not be above using it for personal gain. 

I then revealed the tattoo I had noticed on her back, a tattoo that Sergeant Brady had just described to me in matching detail a few moments ago.

Finished, I slumped back in my chair, the reality of my revelations having just confirmed the identity of our killer, of Jasmine.

Betty was surprised at the revelation of my dreams, but seemed to readily accept it after but a few questions.

“We have our killer, our mastermind, now we just need to get some real proof so we can arrest her.”

“I can’t believe Jane would do this…
could
do this,” Betty stated sullenly. “Why would she do this?”

“This will hit Lean hard,” Frank added, “as if he doesn’t already have enough tragedy as it is.”

My cell phone rang; I noticed it is from the Sheriff’s department.

“Gabriel, this is Tucker. One of the patrols went by Jane’s apartment. She wasn’t there, and the door wasn’t latched. Deputy Tom Smith looked in and said it looked like it was ransacked, wants to know what to do.”

“Have him lock it down, we’ll be right there,” I said with an authority I didn’t have. Looking around, I told the others, “her apartment’s open and she isn’t there, maybe we can find the evidence we need there.”

***

We all headed out to the car and off to the apartment on Catalpa. None of us felt like talking and remained silent throughout the whole ride. Six minutes later we arrived at the apartment and gloved up before we entered.

Deputy Smith was looking at us with confusion, maybe a little defensive. I ignored his feelings for the moment and told him to make sure no one entered without our say-so, telling him this could be a crime scene.

We entered slowly, taking our time and observing the general condition before delving into anything. The apartment did indeed look like it had had a whirlwind go through it, but after a few moments it appeared to me that it was more like the scene you might see when someone has to leave in a hurry for a trip.

Clothes and belongings had been pulled out of closets and drawers, like they had been quickly picked through to find what they wanted to pack.

“Anybody see anything to indicate this as a crime scene?”

“No,” Betty replied, “looks more like she was in a hurry to leave.”

“Ditto” Frank added as he leaned over a desk; reaching down and picking up a book.

Opening the door then into what I would assume to be a bedroom, Betty let out a gasp as she stood staring into the room.

Coming up beside her, the scene revealed to my eyes was unexpected to say the least. Memorabilia, or should I say
Murderabilia
filled the walls and the table tops of the room. Pictures, weapons and other items had been neatly and lovingly displayed like one would your family mementoes.

I instantly recognized the postcard that we had tracked, front and center in the middle of it all. Prominently displayed on the table, it was held in by a little folding tripod one would normally use for a picture.

“Over there,” Betty pointed to the left, revealing to me a large bulletin board full of newspaper clippings of our current murder spree.

“Humph!” I heard over my shoulder as Frank also got a look at the room, his face a mask now devoid of emotion. After a few moments, he nudged me, indicating that we should follow him across the room.

“Look familiar?” he asked as he held up a notebook, an exact match in looks to the code book taken out of Wesley’s apartment. Opening it up, he then confirmed that it is indeed filled with rows of letters resembling the other book.

We now have more than enough to bring her in for questioning, but our reverie is suddenly interrupted by a commotion outside the front door.

As I started that way to check it out, I was stopped in my tracks when the door suddenly busted inward loudly, hitting the inside wall with a thud as it reached the end of its travel.

Outlined in the doorway was a visibly angry man that we had not been expecting to see, a slightly inebriated Lean McHenry.

“What the hell have you done with my daughter?”

Chapter 91

April 3, 1997

“I said, where the hell is my daughter?”

We had been unsure as to what to do when he had shown up at the door; therefore we had done nothing until he angrily repeated his question.

The Sheriff’s service weapon was prominently displayed on his hip, his fingers nervously caressing the handle. His anger was apparent…and cause enough for concern considering his present state.

Looking out beyond the sheriff, I saw a confused deputy that seemed not too sure where his loyalties lay.

He’d be no help to us right now. I worried that he may even turn against us if his old boss looked threatened.

I was closest to Lean, with Betty to my left and Frank directly behind me at the desk, most likely hidden from the sheriff’s sightline at the moment. I also knew that my partner would about now be slowly sliding his Glock out of its holster in readiness for any trouble, a very comforting thought to me at that instant.

“Lean, we need you to calm down, right now,” I started evenly, “And I would appreciate if you slowly handed the deputy that revolver for the time being.”

My thought was that he probably found his old deputy a little less threatening than me at that moment. It also might help our cause in allying the deputy towards us just a little bit.