Read Peggy Dulle - Liza Wilcox 05 - Till Death Do Us Part Online

Authors: Peggy Dulle

Tags: #Mystery: Cozy - Romance - Kindergarten Teacher - Sheriff - California

Peggy Dulle - Liza Wilcox 05 - Till Death Do Us Part (13 page)

BOOK: Peggy Dulle - Liza Wilcox 05 - Till Death Do Us Part
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“I can’t believe you brought down two professional killers. It’s not like you have a lot of skills.”

“I have very little
skills. I can shoot a gun fairly well and do know some self-defense moves but it’s mostly dumb luck, asking the right questions, and being in the right or wrong place, depending upon how you look at it, at the right time.”

“Or wrong time,” Savanah added.

“That’s true.” I chuckled.

After our late lunch, we drove back to San Ramon. I dropped Savanah off at her house and drove home. I didn’t see my FBI bodyguard anywhere. Not even a non-descript obvious FBI sedan on the street either, Maybe the agent was good at being incognito.

I hadn’t expected to be gone more than a few hours and it was seven o’clock now. Shelby met me at the door, noisier than usual.

“Hungry, girl?”

She barked.

I fed her and my doorbell rang.

I opened the door and found Justin there.

“Hi,” I said.

“You’re not going to believe what I found,” he said.

“What?”

“This guy’s not killing very many women, he’s mostly killing men!”

 

 

Chapter 16

 

“What? Who’s killing men?”

Justin rolled in with a stack of papers on his lap. “You still got that large rolling board?”

“Yes, it’s in the garage.”

“Can you bring it into the office?”

“Of course, why?”

“I want to put up some pictures for you.”

I shrugged and went out to get the board, then rolled it into the office.

Justin handed me a stack of pictures. “I’ve put letters and numbers on these, so when you put them up try to group the letters together and then order the numbers.”

“So put the A’s together and then order the pictures – one, two, three.”

“That’s it.”

“I teach kindergarten, I can order letter and numbers,” I said sarcastically.

Justin ignored me and started handing me pictures.

In the end, we had thirty pictures grouped in ones, twos and threes.

“Why are all these people on my board?” I asked.

“Because they’re all dead and I think they were all killed by the same person.”

“Really?” I looked at the pictures. “Do you have the police reports on these?”

Justin smiled and said, “It was too much to print, so I made these cards.”

He handed me a stack of three by five cards. On them were listed date of death, how they were killed, and object.

“Object?”

“Remember you said that the jewelry was the key.”

“No, I think Kenny said that.”

“Well, it was the key except it wasn’t just jewelry.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look at the cards.”

I shuffled through the cards. Under the object section there was jewelry, stuffed toys, miniature animal statues, and other similar items listed.

I held up a card that listed the object as a snow globe and asked, “What does this mean?”

“These are all cases where things were left at the crime scene that weren’t there originally.”

“Like a snow globe?”

Justin nodded. “Let’s put up the cards. They have the person’s name, plus the letter and number on the right hand corner.”

It was like dealing cards. I matched them up and used push pins to place the cards under the pictures.

“There are gunshots, stabbings, bludgeoning, an electrocution and several of these are suicides,” I told Justin as I put the cards under the pictures.

“Yeah, I know but still, something was added to the crime scene.”

A knock sounded on the front door and Justin and I both jumped, which sent Shelby into a barking fit, something the door would have done on its own, but our reaction made hers worse.

Justin chuckled, “We’re a little jumpy.”

“I’m looking at thirty dead people; I’m bound to be jumpy.” I took a deep breath and said, “I’ll see who is at the door.”

I opened the door and a short thin man dressed in a blue suit said, “You don’t just open the door without seeing who it is, Ms. Wilcox.”

Wasn’t there a height requirement for the FBI? This guy was a few inches taller than me. But he must be my FBI guy. The suit was a dead giveaway, not to mention his attitude.

“I have a video camera on the door and I knew you were FBI, look at your suit,” I lied to him.

“Oh, that’s good.” He extended his hand. “My name is Special Agent Ardour.”

I shook his hand and said, “It’s nice to meet you, Agent Ardour.”

“I’m your bodyguard.” And he walked right into my house, carrying a duffle bag.

“You’re going to stay in here?” I asked.

“I parked my car around the corner at the twenty-four hour grocery store and I’m staying in your house. You can’t be more protected than that.”

“But …,” I began.

“If I park in the neighborhood, somebody will call the cops and everyone will know I am here. This way I can keep as low a profile as possible.”

“But …, I stuttered again. I did not want an FBI agent living in my house with me.

“Where do you want me to put my stuff?” he asked.

“In your car,” I suggested.

He laughed and headed down my hall. “Which bedroom?”

I raced to the office door and pointed to the other bedroom, “Take my spare room.”

“I skipped dinner, Do you got anything to eat here?” he asked.

“Call for take-out, that’s what I do. There are menus in the drawer next to the refrigerator. If you use the house phone on the wall next to it, they’ll know where to bring it.”

“Thanks.” Agent Ardour went into my spare room and closed the door.

I open the door to the office, walked in, closed the door and stood against it.

“Why is there an FBI agent here? And, really, he’s going to stay
here
, at your house?” Justin asked.

“Apparently so,” I said, then told Justin about the guy who tried to run me off the road and kidnap me.

Justin shook his head back and forth.

“What?” I asked.

“Either my mind is slowing down or you are starting to talk faster. Did you even take a breath?”

“It’s being around Kenny again. We used to talk like that to each other and most people couldn’t keep up or understand what we were talking about, especially since when we’re doing it together, we finish each other’s sentences.”

“Okay, so I get that you need an FBI agent, but I repeat, he’s going to stay in your house? I’ve never heard of that before.”

“I guess it’s the same as if I was in protective custody. I’d have to stay at some hotel with him.”

“You wouldn’t go,” Justin said.

“Nope. I think Tom had something to do with this,” I suggested.

Justin tilted his head and then said, “Probably.”

“Let’s get back to your board.”

“I’ve got deaths that stretch all over the United States. I didn’t look into Canada or Mexico, but I can expand my search if you think I should.”

“I think we’ve got enough here to work on. In all of these deaths, something was left at the crime scene that didn’t belong to the victim?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe they just didn’t know that the victim had it?” I suggested.

“Nope, the items were either found on the person, like jewelry, or in their pocket, or in their hand.”

“Most are men.”

“Yes, there are eighteen men and twelve women, which includes the two victims from Anaheim.”

“Anything these men have in common?” I asked.

“I haven’t gotten that far. The police reports I pulled contained the information about the crime scenes, since I was looking for items left at the scene. They included the cause of death, autopsy reports and crime scene reports. I haven’t pulled the victim information yet. I wanted you to see this first.”

“Wow. If this is right, this killer has been killing for the last six years.”

“Yes.”

“There’s no pattern to the kills, like two a month or one every season or anything like that, is there?”

“No, I’ve run multiple algorithms on the dates, times and locations. There isn’t anything that connects all these people.” Justin swept his hand toward the pictures.

“Okay, then we will need to know about these victims. They all must have something in common.”

“That’s what I’ll do next.”

I nodded.

“I’ll get to work on it right away. What are we going to do with this board? Should we take all these pictures down?”

“That will be a pain,” I grabbed a marker from the desk and turned the board around to the whiteboard side. Then I started making wedding notes. I covered the board in wedding information and little pictures of the table centerpieces, invitations, and anything else I could think of to draw.

Justin shook his head again. “That board is giving me a headache. There are so many lines from one thing to another. It looks like the way you and Kenny talk to each other.”

I laughed. Justin was right, it was a chaotic mess, but I understood it.

“That board will stop anyone. Besides, no man wants to be that involved in someone else’s wedding plans.” Justin turned his wheelchair to the door.

I closed the office door and walked Justin to the front door.

“Have fun with your FBI guy,” Justin said as he went out the door.

“Thanks,” I said and rolled my eyes. Then I found my phone and dialed Tom.

“Hi Liza, did your FBI guy get there?”

“Yes, he’s living in my guest room.”

“What?”

“Yes, he brought a bag.”

“What?” Tom’s voice elevated in pitch, even higher.

“He says his car would be too obvious in my neighborhood and it would be better if he guarded me from inside my house.”

Silence.

“Tom?”

“You know, he’s probably right.”

“You are okay with a total stranger, a
male
stranger, living in my spare room?”

“Not when you put it that way, but if I can’t be there I want someone close enough to protect you and inside your house is as close as it gets.”

A knock at the door.

“Who’s at the door?” Tom asked, his voice agitated.

“The Fed ordered take-out,” I told him.

“A kindred soul,” Tom remarked drily.

“When is my dad supposed to testify?” I asked.

“Not for another couple of months,” Tom said.

“This guy is will be living with me for months?” Now my voice was rising in pitch.

“After we are married, you’ll be up here with me and won’t need anyone’s protection. You’ll have me.”

I sighed deeply and opened the door. It was Jay from the Chinese restaurant around the corner. “I’ll call you later, Tom. Jay’s here.”

“It’s almost nine o’clock, you’re eating late,” Tom commented.

“The Fed was hungry and I had a late lunch, so it’s dinner time for me.” I shrugged, although I knew he couldn’t see me.

“Well, enjoy your Chinese food and don’t let the fortune cookies make you cry too much,” Tom ended the call.

“Hi, Liza. Why did you order shrimp wontons and shrimp chow mien? You’ve never ordered them before.” Jay frowned.

I sighed again.

“I brought your usual order, plus orange chicken and chow mein for Mr. Martin, along with the stuff the guy on the phone ordered.”

I smiled and said, “Thank you,” then yelled toward the Fed’s room. “Hey Cousin Art, your Chinese food is here.”

The Fed stuck his head out of the door and smiled. He walked down, handed Jay a credit card and took the food. The Feds were going to pay for my food for a month? They might reconsider after only a week if they knew how much take-out food I ate, let alone Kenny and me.

After the door closed, the Fed said, “My name is Tony, not Art.”

“I had to think of something, calling you the Fed would have seriously hurt your incognito status.”

“That’s true.”

“So remember you are Art when Jay comes.”

“It will always be him?”

“He’s the only delivery guy for that restaurant. And it’s the only Chinese restaurant that will deliver.”

“I like Chinese. Okay then, call me Art when I am here, Ms. Wilcox. I’ll forget if you don’t.”

“Call me Liza and let’s eat.”

Art pulled out all the boxes and said, “I don’t remember ordering all of this.”

“I have a standing order with the Chinese restaurant and they just added your stuff and brought it all when they recognized my house phone number.”

“Smart place,” Art said as he started opening the containers.

The food was good, as it always is. Jay had brought my usual, asparagus and beef with steamed white rice, pot stickers for Shelby, Kenny’s stuff, and two shrimp dishes for Art.

We ate in silence. Then I remembered what he had said earlier. “What do you mean when
you’re
here?”

“We’ll be on a rotation. I’ll stay three days and then someone else will come in and then I’ll be back.”

“I should install a revolving front door,” I muttered.

“Speaking of your door, where are the video camera display feeds? I wanted to check them when the delivery boy knocked on the door.”

“I lied,” I shrugged.

He frowned at me. It felt as though a teacher was scolding me. Then he said, “It’s not a bad idea. I’ll have the bureau install them at the front door and in the backyard. It will help me with the surveillance. Where do you want the video feeds to go to?”

“Your house?” I suggested.

He laughed. “And your second choice?”

“Put them in your bedroom. I’m using the office to plan my wedding.”

“When are you getting married?”

“On July 21st.”

BOOK: Peggy Dulle - Liza Wilcox 05 - Till Death Do Us Part
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