The Dying Game (40 page)
When she exited the interview room, Lieutenant Watson followed her, but before he could speak to her, Officer Deaton, Watson’s partner called out to him.
“Can I see you a minute, Jere?”
“Excuse me, Ms. Baxter,” Watson said, totally disregarding her official title and using the word “Ms.” as if it were a slur.
Something was up. She could feel it in her bones. Watson and Deaton talked quietly, each occasionally glancing her way as if she were the topic of conversation. After a couple of minutes, Deaton headed off and Watson walked over to her, a defined reluctance in his step.
“The crime scene boys have a key piece of evidence that they’re going to turn over to your people.” He was doing his duty, but she could tell that it stuck in his craw.
“Why haven’t you mentioned this evidence before now?”
“Because until the crime scene team gave it a thorough once-over, we didn’t know it was all that important.”
“Okay, I’ll buy that explanation. So, tell me what this key piece of evidence is.”
Watson bristled. “We found LaShae Goodloe’s purse at the scene, but didn’t figure it would amount to anything, not even when we saw the compact tape recorder.”
Nic eyed the detective inquisitively.
“Well, she was a TV reporter. Sort of. So it made sense that she’d have a tape recorder. We turned the purse and everything in it over to the crime scene boys. They rewound and played the tape this morning. There was part of an interview on it with some poor bastard talking about how he’d been sexually abused by his minister when he was a kid. And …” Watson paused for effect.
“And?”
“And the tape picked up the killer telling the victim exactly how he was going to kill her. The tape didn’t pick up every word he said, but it’s clear enough for voice recognition if we had a voice to compare it to.”
Within half an hour of their arrival in Birmingham, Griff knew that things had changed, not only between Judd and Lindsay, but with Judd himself. It wasn’t that he’d done a complete about face overnight, but anyone who had known him for any length of time would have picked up on the subtle differences. And Griff had known Judd pre-Jennifer, during his marriage, and post-Jennifer. Although the man who had arrived at the Wynfrey less than an hour ago was neither of those Judds, Griff recognized the fact that traits of both remained. The intensity was still there and the jitteriness from badly needing a drink, but Judd appeared to be less sullen and definitely wasn’t as hostile or volatile.
“I’m on my way to meet up with Detective Watson,” Griff said to Judd. “Why don’t you come along with me.”
While Judd looked at him inquiringly, Lindsay asked, “Am I not invited?”
Griff shook his head. “Afraid not. Neither you nor Maleah. It seems the lieutenant prefers dealing with men.” He grinned at his newest female Powell agent, a petite blonde with big brown eyes and a wet-dream kind of body. The lady also had a degree in criminal justice, was an expert marksman, and a killer poker player. That last bit of information had come straight from Rick Carson, who’d lost his shirt in a recent game with the lady.
“Oh, I see.” Lindsay pursed her lips and nodded. “Leave it to you to find out just how to play the odds. I swear, Griffin Powell, you’ve got a chameleon personality that can change on a dime.”
“That kind of talent is priceless in my line of work.”
Lindsay rolled her eyes upward and shook her head.
Griff winked at her. “While we men are out doing all the hard work, why don’t you girls arrange for dinner in my suite for all of us—Rick and Holt, too. We’ll have a powwow and compare notes.”
Maleah glared at Griff. Grinning, Lindsay shook her index finger at him.
“He’s halfway kidding,” she told Maleah. “But just so you know, the big boss is definitely an equal opportunity employer, but he’s also a bit of a male chauvinist.”
“I believe that’s what’s known as a backhanded compliment,” Griff said.
“You boys go on.” Lindsay waved them off. “Maleah can bring me up to date on anything I need to know.”
Five minutes later, Griff and Judd were on their way from the Wynfrey to the bar in Bessemer where Lieutenant Watson had told Griff he’d meet him.
“I’ve got some very interesting info for you,” Watson had said. “A new development in the case.”
He hadn’t pressed Watson for the info over the phone, knowing the lieutenant was probably the type who preferred getting his pats-on-the-back in person.
As Griff entered Highway 459, he gave Judd a sideways glance. “So, are you going to tell me?”
“Tell you what?” Judd asked, as if he had no idea what Griff meant.
“Exactly what’s going on? What happened between you and Lindsay?”
“We’re okay now. Really okay.”
“Meaning?”
“We’re working on figuring out our relationship.”
“Is that right? Well, while you’re figuring it out, don’t you dare hurt her again,” Griff warned.
“If I do, it won’t be intentional.”
Griff grunted.
“I … uh … I’m not sure about anything,” Judd admitted. “I’ve been in a dark hole for years and now I’m trying to drag myself out of it. I may make it. I may not.”
“If you’re not careful, you could drag Lindsay down into that dark hole with you because she’s going to hang onto you for dear life and try to singlehandedly pull you out.”
“Don’t you think I know that?”
“Do you? That woman would die for you and all you’ve done for the past four years is—”
“You were right about my needing her.”
Griff exited 459, following Lieutenant Watson’s directions. He didn’t respond to Judd’s comment until he pulled up at a red light, then he looked directly at his old friend.
“What can I do to help you?” Griff asked.
Griff saw hope in Judd’s nervous smile. “The first thing I need is help to stop drinking.” He swiped his hand over his mouth. “I haven’t touched a drop in days and it’s getting harder, not easier.”
“Come back with us to Griffin’s Rest. Let Yvette—”
“I’ve already spoken to her and she offered to work with me. But I don’t want to involve Lindsay, and if I go to Griffin’s Rest, she’ll be there. I want to do this one thing on my own, without her being anywhere around.” Judd looked at Griff, man to man.
“I understand. We’ll find you the best rehab clinic in the South.”
“Thanks. And I don’t want to put it off. I want to check in as soon as we see what’s what with this new BQK case.”
“Look, I’m meeting Lieutenant Watson in a bar,” Griff said. “If I’d known you were trying to stop drinking, to go cold turkey—”
“Don’t turn around and take me back to the hotel,” Judd said. “I want to hear what this guy has to say. I need to be a part of this.”
“You’re already sweating just thinking about—”
“I’ll order a Coke and if I even act like I’m going to drink anything stronger, kick me on my ass.”
“You can count on it,” Griff told him.
It took less than fifteen minutes for Maleah to make all the arrangements for dinner in Griff’s suite for six people and for Lindsay to contact Rick and Holt to inform them of Griff’s plans for an evening work session.
“So, we seemed to have taken care of that pretty quickly,” Lindsay said as she looked at Maleah, smiling, and doing her best not to stare at the new Powell agent.
Maleah had hired on a few months back, right before Christmas and had only recently completed the mandatory six-week training session that each new Powell agent had to take. No exceptions. No matter what a new employee’s background— be it law enforcement, military, mercenary, or someone fresh out of college—Griff sent them off to his own special boot camp. Some made the cut. Some didn’t.
For the life of her, Lindsay couldn’t understand why a woman with Maleah’s looks and brains would want to be a P.I., even if Powell agents were the best in the business.
“I guess you know this is actually my first field assignment,” Maleah said. “I was surprised that Mr. Powell brought me along and called in another agent to help Angie guard Ms. Hughes.”
“Griff likes to give new agents a variety of assignments so he can grade them on their abilities in various areas. That way he can decide what they’re best suited to do within the agency.”
“You seem to have worked exclusively with him on the Beauty Queen Killer cases. Is that right?”
“Pretty much. I’ve done an odd assignment now and again, but my main job is working with Griff on the BQK cases.”
“I’ve heard quite a bit about Mr. Walker from the other agents, and I have to say he’s not what I expected. He doesn’t seem the beast I’ve heard he can be.” As if realizing she’d said something she shouldn’t have, Maleah clenched her teeth in an “oh, crap!” gesture. “Sorry, I spoke before I thought. It’s one of my weaknesses. I know you’re personally involved with—” Maleah shook her head. “God, I’m sorry. I’m nervous and talking way too much.”
“It’s okay,” Lindsay assured her. “I’m sure some of the agents have filled you in on my history with Griff and Judd. Probably Angie, since you two have been working together at Griffin’s Rest.”
“She wasn’t gossiping. Honestly, she wasn’t.”
“Don’t sweat it. It’s no secret that I joined the Powell Agency for one reason only—to help Griff track down the Beauty Queen Killer. And my motivation was personal. Not only was I partnered with the lead detective on Jennifer Walker’s murder case when I worked with the Chattanooga PD, but I’ve been in love with Judd for quite some time.”
Gazing at Lindsay with a look of admiration in her big brown eyes, Maleah said, “I think I’m going to like you. You’re straightforward and honest.”
“Well, I think I’m going to like you, too.”
“Friends in the making?” Maleah held out her hand.
Lindsay took her hand and they shook on the friendship deal.
“Look, there’s something I’ve been wanting to bring up to Mr. Powell,” Maleah said. “But since I’m new at the agency, I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate. Would you mind if I run it by you?”
Curious, Lindsay indicated with a hand wave that they should sit down on the sofa there in Griff’s suite. “Come on. You can fill me in on whatever it is.”
“You sit,” Maleah said. “I’ve got to get something out of my briefcase, then I’ll join you.”
Lindsay sat. Maleah grabbed her briefcase off the desk by the windows, took a seat by Lindsay, deposited her case on her lap and popped it open. She lifted out a file folder. “Take a look at these. Newspaper and magazine clippings and a detailed report about this woman.”
Lindsay took the file folder, opened it and stared at the glossy magazine photo of an attractive, petite blonde. She scanned the article, which focused on the former Miss UT, who was now an actress, playwright, and director. Paige All-good was relocating to the Knoxville area and planned to open her own theater after she established a little theater group whose members would enact her plays and the plays of her writer friends. Ms. Allgood was a widow who had inherited a sizable fortune from her much older husband, thus enabling her to fulfill a lifelong dream.
“This is interesting, but I don’t see—”
“Take a good look at her,” Maleah said. “Don’t you see the resemblance?”
Lindsay looked at the photo again, then flipped through the newspaper clippings, but didn’t pick up on any significant resemblance to someone she knew.
“Sorry, I don’t—”
“This woman—this former Beauty Queen—could pass for my sister, or yours for that matter. She’s petite, blonde, pretty, and about our age. She’s thirty. I’m twenty-nine.”
Lindsay had never thought of herself as pretty. “So?”
“If we could get her—this Paige Allgood—to cooperate with us, I could take over her identity for a few weeks, at least until after April first and maybe …”
“Shit! You’re talking about a setup, using yourself as bait to capture the BQ Killer.”
“I realize we have no way of knowing if he’d take the bait, if he’d actually come after me, but—”
“Griff would never agree.”
“You know him a lot better than I do, but are you sure?”
“Yes, I …” Lindsay studied the pictures of Paige All-good. Actually, she resembled this woman as much if not more than Maleah did. They had the same slender, small-breasted shape, where Maleah was bosomy and more hourglass shaped. And former Miss UT or not, the woman was not as pretty as Maleah. With the right makeup and hairstyle, maybe a wig, and a different wardrobe, Lindsay could easily pass for Paige Allgood with people who didn’t know her personally.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Maleah said. “I can almost see the wheels in your brain spinning. What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking several things. First of all, it wouldn’t be easy to persuade Griff to go along with this idea. The second thing is that we don’t know if Paige Allgood would agree to cooperate with us. And third—I’m the obvious choice to impersonate Paige, not you.” When Maleah opened her mouth to protest, Lindsay held up a restraining hand. “No arguments.” She shoved the glossy photo of Paige into Maleah’s hand. “She and I have the same body type. Besides, I’ve got seniority as a Powell agent and experience as a police officer. I’m better equipped to do this job than you are.”
“And you have a personal stake in this, don’t you?” Maleah clenched her teeth and whined, “Sorry. I did it again. I’m a pro at putting my foot in my mouth.”
“No, you’re right—I do have a personal stake in this. If we can stop the BQ Killer Judd might finally be able to put some closure on his wife’s brutal murder.”
“You’d do anything for him, wouldn’t you?”
“Yeah, I would.”
“Even risk your life? We both know that no matter what precautions we take, something could go wrong.”
“There’s something you should know. The FBI has already tried a sting operation twice in the past three years and our guy didn’t take the bait either time. They’ve used FBI agents with fake backgrounds as former beauty queens, but our guy passed them by, if he ever noticed them to begin with.”
Maleah threw up her hands. “And here I thought I’d come up with a brilliant plan.”
“It’s a good plan. Just not original.”