“Open the trunk,” Billy Tryon directed.
As the trunk was raised, the odor of death was overpowering. Tryon carefully untied the twine holding the garbage bags together and lifted one of them. The rigor mortis that had set in had pre?served the look of terror on the elderly woman's face.
“Oh, my God,” Emily moaned. “That poor helpless soul. This man is a monster.”
“Emily,” Jake said gently. “You're lucky you didn't end up like her.”
Just Take My Heart
63
Mike Gordon went directly to his office on Monday afternoon after attending Jimmy Easton's sentencing. Those clips of him threat?ening the prosecutor and as much as saying that he knows a lot more will make for a great show tonight, he thought. Was he bluffing and just lashing out because he didn't get probation? Or is he about to drop a bombshell? The panel is going to have a field day with this tonight.
His secretary, Liz, followed him into his private office and told him that there had been fifty-one responses phoned to the number on the Web site since the offer of the twenty-five-thousand-dollar re?ward had been posted Sunday evening.
“Twenty-two were from psychics, Mike,” she told him, standing in front of his desk. “Two of them must have the same crystal ball. They both see a man with dark hair and wearing dark clothing watching Natalie Raines as she drove up to her house the morning she was killed.”
She smiled. “You won't believe the rest of it. They see him wait?ing for her with a gun in his hand. That's where the vision stops. Ap?parently, when they get the reward they'll be able to see his face and describe him fully.”
Mike shrugged. “I was positive we'd attract some of those weirdos.”
Liz did an informal summary of the calls. “Ten or twelve of them were people who said that Jimmy Easton has cheated or robbed them. None of them could believe that a jury found Gregg Aldrich guilty based on his testimony. Some of them said they'd like to go to court when Aldrich is sentenced and tell the judge that Easton is a pathological liar.”
“That's good to know but it doesn't do us much good. How about the woman who called Friday night and asked about a reward? Have we heard from her?”
“I was saving the best for last,” Liz told him. “She did call back this morning. Says she absolutely has the proof of where Jimmy worked and why he may have been in the Aldrich apartment. She wants to know if we can put the reward money in some kind of se?cure account to make sure she isn't cheated out of it.”
“Did she give her name and a number where we can contact her?”
“No, she didn't want to do that. She wants to talk directly to you first. Doesn't trust anyone else not to steal her information. Also she wants to know if Gregg Aldrich gets out of jail because of her tip, will you have her as a guest on the show with him. I told her you'd be in around now and that she could call back.”
“Liz, if somebody gives us concrete proof, of course I'll have them on the show. I just hope she isn't another kook.” Worried, Mike thought of how he had told Alice and Katie about this tip at lunch yesterday, and their ecstatic reaction to it.
“Okay. That's all I have,” Liz said, cheerfully. “We'll see what else comes in.”
“Hold the calls for awhile unless that woman calls back. Put her right through.”
Liz was barely at her desk when the phone rang. Through the open door,
Mike heard her say, “Yes, he is back, and he will speak with you now. Hold just a moment, please.”
Mike's hand was on the phone waiting for the buzzer to sound, indicating that the call had been transferred.
“Mike Gordon,” he said. “I've been informed that you may have some information pertinent to the Aldrich case.”
“My name is Reeney Sling, Mr. Gordon. It is an honor to speak with you. I very much enjoy your program. I never thought I would be getting involved in one of your cases but. . . .”
“How are you involved, Ms. Sling?” Mike asked.
“I have important information about where Jimmy Easton worked around the time that Natalie Raines got killed. But I want to make sure that nobody steals my reward.”
“Ms. Sling, I personally guarantee you, and I will put it in writ?ing, that if you are the first person to give us this important informa?tion and it leads to a new trial or a dismissal of his charges, you will get the reward. You should know in advance that if your information combined with someone else's additional information leads to that kind of result, you will split the reward.”
“Suppose my information is much more important. What would happen then? Oh, just a moment, please. My husband wants to tell me something.”
Mike heard lowered voices but could not discern what they were saying.
“My husband, Rudy, said that we'll trust you to be fair.”
“It's a fair question to ask,” Mike said. “We will proportion the reward based upon the value of each person's information.”
“That sounds good,” she said. “Rudy and I will come in to see you whenever you want.”
“How about tomorrow morning at nine o'clock?”
“We'll be there.”
“And please bring any written materials or documents that would help support what you say.”
“Absolutely,” Reeney replied enthusiastically, no longer afraid of being cheated out of the reward.
“I'll see you then,” Mike said. “Let me give you back to my secre?tary and she will give you our address and any directions you may need.”
Just Take My Heart
64
Jimmy Easton had just arrived back at the Bergen County Jail after his sentencing.
Captain Paul Kraft, the shift commander, was waiting for him. “Jimmy, I have news for you. You're about to leave your home away from home. We're going to transport you to the prison in Newark in a few minutes.”
“Why?” Jimmy demanded. He knew from extensive past experi?ence that the administrative transfer to state prison after a sentence normally took from a few days to a few weeks.
“Well, Jimmy, you know you've got some problems with guys here because of your cooperation.”
“That's what my lawyer tried to tell the judge in court,” Jimmy snapped. “I get no peace. I get hassled all the time because I helped the prosecutor. Like these guys wouldn't do the same thing to get their time cut down!”
“There's more, Jimmy,” Kraft told him. “In the last half hour we've had a couple of anonymous calls. We think it was the same guy both times. He said you better keep your mouth shut from now on or else.”
Seeing the alarmed look on Easton's face, he added, “Jimmy, it could be anybody. It's probably a nutcase. What you said at your sen?tence is already on the radio and the Internet. With the problems you've had here and now these calls, we thought it was better to get you out right away. For your own protection.”
It was obvious to Kraft that Easton was genuinely frightened. “Jimmy, be honest. Do yourself a favor. You know who made those calls, don't you?”
“No, no, I don't,” Jimmy stuttered. “Some jerk, I guess.”
Kraft did not believe him, but didn't push it. “We'll check into the number that came up on the caller ID, and trace it back,” he said. “Don't worry.”
“Don't worry? Easy for you to say. I guarantee those calls came from a prepaid cell phone. I know all about them. I've had dozens of them myself. You make an important call, then you throw it away. Try it sometime.”
“All right, Jimmy. Let's collect your stuff. We've already let them know about this at the prison. They'll make sure you're okay.”
But an hour later, handcuffed and shackled in the back of the transport van, Jimmy stared morosely out the window. They were on the Turnpike in Newark in the vicinity of the airport. He could see a departing plane ascending into the sky. What I wouldn't do to be on that plane, no matter where it was going, he thought.
He remembered a song by John Denver. “Leavin' on a jet plane ...”
I wish I was.
I'd never come back here. I'd start over somewhere.
As the van arrived at the prison gate and was screened for entry, Jimmy was plotting his next move.
Aldrich's lawyer was pretty nasty to me at the trial but I bet he'll be glad to hear from me tomorrow.
When I'm finished filling his ear, he won't even mind that it was a collect call.
Just Take My Heart
65
When left the house in Glen Rock early Monday morning, Zach Lanning drove straight to Newark Airport. He found a spot in long-term parking, just a few spaces away from where he had parked the van he had bought from Henry Link. As he switched his belong?ings from one vehicle to the other, he hoped he was blending in with the airport travelers carrying their suitcases to and from the ter?minals.
He had a scare when he was taking his television set out of the trunk of the car and a security guard drove past but he didn't seem to pay any attention. Zach finished transferring the last of his gear, then locked his car. By then, his nerves were almost shot. That security-guard might suddenly wonder why anybody would have a heavy television set and might think he had broken into a parked car.
He might come back and check it out, Zach worried.
But he got out of the lot without any problem. He got back on the Turnpike and began the drive to Camelback. At 7:45 he pulled into a rest area and made calls to his job and to the rental agent tell?ing them that he wasn't coming back.
There was a lot of traffic on the highway and it was nearly eleven when he arrived at the lodge and went to the reception desk to check in.
As he waited for the clerk to finish a call, he looked around and felt himself calming down. This was just the kind of place he had wanted. Somewhat run down, in an area far removed from the main roads, it was bound to be quiet. The ski season had not yet started. Anybody here now is just looking for peace and quiet and to take autumn nature walks, he assured himself.
The clerk, a slow-moving guy pushing seventy, had the cabin key in his hand. “I gave you one of our best cabins,” he said, amiably. “It's preseason and we're not too busy. In another six weeks, this place is gonna be jumping. We get a lot of skiers, especially on the weekends.”
“That's nice,” Zach replied as he took the key and started to turn away. The last thing he needed was any more conversation where the man could focus on him.
The clerk squinted his eyes. “You've been here before, haven't you? You look familiar. I know,” he said chuckling, “you kind of look like that guy who killed all his wives. They had stuff on him on Fugitive Hunt last week. I was just kidding my brother-in-law. He looks even more like him than you do.”
The clerk started laughing heartily.
Zach attempted to laugh with him. “I've only had one wife and she's still around. And if her alimony check is a day late, I get a call from her lawyer.”
“You, too?” the clerk said loudly. “I pay alimony, too. It really stinks. The guy on Fugitive Hunt killed his last wife because she got his house in the divorce. He went overboard, but I still kind of feel sorry for him.”
“So do I,” Zach mumbled, anxious to get away. “Thank you.”
“Just so you know,” the clerk called after him, “they start serving lunch in the bar at noon. The food's pretty good.”
Zach's cabin was the one nearest to the lodge. It consisted of one large room with two double beds, a dresser, a couch, an armchair, and a night table. A flat-screen television was mounted on the wall above the mantel of a wood-burning fireplace. There was a small bathroom with a plug-in coffeepot on the counter.
Zach knew it was not safe to be here for long. He wondered if anyone had noticed that Madeline Kirk was missing yet. And what about Henry Link? He bought into the story that I was going to file all the paperwork at Motor Vehicles and would send it to him in a few days. But suppose he watched that program Saturday night, too? Suppose he thinks I look like Charley Muir?
Zach closed his eyes. The minute they find Kirk's body there'll be a whole new round of publicity and I'll be the lead story on Fugitive Hunt again, he warned himself.
He was suddenly weary. He decided to lay down and try to take a nap. He was astonished when he woke up and realized it was nearly six o'clock. Suddenly panicked, he grabbed the remote from the night table next to the bed and turned on the television so he could watch the news.
He wondered if there would be anything about him or Kirk on a Pennsylvania news station. It's possible, he thought. Camelback is only a couple of hours away from Bergen County.
The news was coming on. The anchor began, “We have a grim story about the murder of an elderly woman in Glen Rock, New Jer?sey. Police believe that the killer was a neighbor who lived right across the street. They also strongly suspect that this man is the very same person who has allegedly committed at least seven prior mur?ders and who was profiled only last week on the Fugitive Hunt program.”
The anchor continued: “A tip from a coworker sent police swarm?ing to his home where they discovered that he had apparently just fled. A canvas of the neighborhood led to the discovery of a break-in at eighty-two-year-old widow Madeline Kirk's home. Concerned for her safety, the police pushed in the door of her home and shortly thereafter found her body stuffed in the trunk of her car in her ga?rage.”
I knew it, Zach thought. Somebody at work saw the show and recognized me. Kirk recognized me. The jerk who checked me in here noticed that I looked like the guy in the composite. And what if he watches the news tonight? There's bound to be a lot more on about me, and a lot more in the newspapers tomorrow . . .
Zach's mouth went dry as the anchor indicated that after the commercial, he would display the same pictures and age-enhanced composites that had been on Fugitive Hunt.
I can't stay here, he thought. If that dope at the desk sees this, he's not going to be thinking about his brother-in-law. Before I get out of here, I've got to find out if the van is still safe to drive. And I've got to know if Henry Link has put two and two together and called the police.
Using one of his stash of prepaid phones, Zach dialed informa?tion to get Henry Link's telephone number. After buying the car, he had thrown away the ad with the number in it. Luckily it was listed. Nervously biting his lip, he waited for the connection to be made.
He had used the alias Doug Brown when he was with Henry Link. He had also been careful enough to wear sunglasses and a baseball cap all day Saturday when he was shopping for the car.
The connection went through. “Hello.” He recognized Henry's gravelly voice.
“Hello, Henry. This is Doug Brown. Just wanted to say that I took the paperwork to Motor Vehicles this morning. You should be get?ting everything in the mail in the next few days. The van's running great.”
Henry Link's voice did not sound friendly. “My son-in-law gave me a hard time about letting you do all the paperwork. He said that if you had an accident before the what-do-you-call-it, the title, was transferred, I could get sued blind. And what about the license plates? He says it's my job to turn them in. And he wondered why you would pay me in cash.”
Zach's nerves were raw. He felt as though a net were closing over him.
“Henry, I had no problem at Motor Vehicles this morning. I turned in the plates and they gave me a new title. You tell your son-in-law I thought I was being a nice guy. I had to go to Motor Vehicles anyway to register the car in my name and I was happy to help you out. I really felt bad that your wife was in a nursing home.”
Zach moistened his lips with his tongue. “Henry, I deliberately brought cash so there would be no problem. Do you know how many people won't take a check? Tell that son-in-law of yours that if he was so worried, he should have been there with you when you sold the van.”
“Doug, I'm really sorry,” Henry said, sounding upset. “I know you're a nice guy. The trouble is since Edith's been in the nursing home my daughter and her husband think I can't take care of my?self. We made a fair deal and you put yourself out by taking care of th
e paperwork and now even checking in with me. Most people aren't that considerate these days. And I'm going to give my son-in-law a piece of my mind.”
“Glad to help you, Henry. I'll call you in two or three days and make sure that the records came in the mail.”
I'm probably okay with the van for a couple of days, Zach thought as he snapped the cell phone shut. When the paperwork doesn't ar?rive, the son-in-law's going to go straight to the Motor Vehicles of?fice. And right after that, he's going to go to the police.
My luck may be running out. But before I get caught, if I do get caught, I'm going back to take care of Emily.
Just Take My Heart
66
Belle Garcia was desperately unhappy at the prospect of confront?ing Sal when he got home. The few times in their thirty-five-year marriage that they had had a serious argument, it had been because she had been too stubborn about something. But she knew it wasn't like that this time.
The thought of getting Sal in trouble was anathema to her. It was five o'clock when she heard his key turning the lock in the front door. He walked in looking exhausted. He works so hard, Belle thought.
“Hi, honey,” he said, as he gave her a kiss on the cheek and then headed to the refrigerator to get a beer.
He came into the living room, flipped the can open, sat in his fa?vorite chair, and commented on how tired he was. “After dinner, I'll just watch television for a little while and then pack it in.”
“Sal,” Belle said, gently, “I know you've had a long day. But I have to tell you what I did this morning. I've been so upset about whether or not Jimmy Easton ever worked for you that I decided to go through the boxes you have downstairs in the storage area.”
“Okay, Belle,” he said with a tone of resignation. “What did you find?”