A Vision of Murder (9 page)

I nodded slowly. I had read
about his trial in the papers.

“Also, there were a couple
of victims buried near his property.”

“He had a large farm that
backed up to the state park.”

“The townsfolk were pretty
worried for a while. He was killing people for three or four years, maybe five,
before he was caught. That we know of, that is,” Simms continued.

“Did he ever confess?” I
asked.
Beadlets
of water were trickling down our
glasses, creating rings on the table. The glass was chilly as I clenched it.

“Yes and no. Initially he
did confess, but he quickly retracted it.
Said he was
coerced.”

“By who?”

“The
arresting officers and detectives.
He also said he had been threatened. No one put
much stock in what he had to say, though.” Simms chuckled under his breath. “He
was a murderer after all.”

“Did he end up going free?”

“No,” Dunn said, taking a
sip from his glass. “He was tried and prosecuted. Found guilty.”

“Detective Simms,” I said, “
you
still seem certain that it was him.”

He paused,
then
nodded. “I am. I mean, I was. I knew people that had
worked on the case. Everyone was certain it was him.”

“And now you’re not sure?”

“Oh, I still
think he was involved, but someone else could have been working with him.

“What about you, Dunn?” I
turned to the younger detective. He glanced at Simms,
then
faced me.

“I think… whoever this
killer is, he’s working alone. I think if this is the same person committing
these crimes now, then an innocent man went to jail for him.”

“If he’s in prison, then
how…?”

“He’s not in
prison anymore,” Dunn replied. “He died last year. He died claiming he was
innocent.”

We all sat quietly for
several minutes.

“Of course,” Simms cleared
his throat, “there’s always the chance that this is a copycat as well.”

“You think so?” I asked.

“I think the man that died
in prison was a killer, so
yes,
I think this is either
a copycat or someone who was working with him. I mean, it has been a couple of
years since White went to jail and we haven’t had any other victims.” I
wondered briefly why Simms was so vehemently sure that John Carson White was
guilty when he had never met him.

“That we know of,” Dunn
said.

“So you think that a serial
killer is walking free right now, killing these girls?”

“We do,” Simms said.
“Same area, same habit.
We want you to try to focus on your
visions.”

“Alright, I’ll try,” I said,
“but what if, what if this is the same serial killer? Doesn’t that mean that
someone else could die next?”

“We don’t want that to
happen,” Simms replied. “Try not to mention this around town. The state police
don’t think there’s enough evidence to establish a connection. They think the
two murders were separate incidences. We’re looking into this on our own.”

Standing up, he sat his
glass down on the table, “We better
be
going. We’ll
let you know if we hear of anything else. We’d like for you to do the same. Any
visions, any at all, give us a call.”

I agreed. I walked them both
to the door. Dunn lingered as Simms said goodbye, then pulled out of the drive.
Turning to me, his eyes wandered over the front of my house.

“No one would have a hard
time getting in here,” he said.

“I’ll be careful.” I was
touched that he cared.

“Good. I’m worried about
you. You’re a young woman, living alone. If this serial killer is active, he could
be in your house before you even know it. Don’t take any chances. And call me
if anything strange happens.”

I assured him that I would
and walked him to his car. He seemed reluctant to leave, but after a few
minutes of awkward small talk, he told me had to go. I stood in the road and
waved goodbye to him as he drove away.

Glancing back at my house, I
saw a small figure ducking into the old gate in the distance. I walked up the
gravel drive to the kitchen window. I could stoop under it easily, the old fireplace
stones blocking my presence from anyone in front of the house. I could just see
the curtains waving in the breeze through the open window above my head.

I glanced over at the fence,
watching the small white cloud bobbing along the edge until it reached the
porch. Mrs. Dodd sprang lightly up the steps, one hand reaching for the back
door.

“Good morning, Mrs. Dodd,” I
called, leaning back against my house and crossing my arms.

She had the good grace to at
least look embarrassed. “Good morning,” she said, stiffly.

“Heard anything
interesting?” I asked. A small smile hovered at the corner of my mouth.

Her face tightened and she
glared at me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said primly, before
opening the door and disappearing inside.

Just like
I had thought.
The old lady had heard everything.

“Shadow
is its home now”

Mrs. Dodd huffed around her
kitchen angrily gathering the remnants of her breakfast into the kitchen sink. How
dare that young witch say that to her? Why, she couldn’t help it if voices
carried through open windows, could she?

She reached one gnarled hand
down to pet her cat,
Pumpkin
. “It is easier to
hear, I’ll admit,” she said softly, “when you happen to be right under the
window.” She chuckled.

She was sure that what she
had heard was right in some aspects. There was a serial killer loose in Temple.
Of that she was certain. But she agreed with the funny looking red-haired cop.
The man that had died in jail was guilty. Maybe Simms hadn’t been here when the
man was the talk of her small community, but Mrs. Dodd had. She had seen his
eyes herself, glaring out of the newspaper. It had to be him.

Or did it? Maybe she was all
wrong. Maybe what she thought was the right path was, in fact, the wrong one.
And a dangerous one at that.
She wasn’t scared for herself,
though she was admittedly an old woman.

But, she was scared for
Lorene. “I’ll have to get Lorene out of here, Pumpkin,” she whispered to her
cat, stroking his ears. He purred softly in response, kneading her hand with
his head.

“A mother will always a
mother be, even if she does make mistakes sometimes.” She thought of Mary and
her hand paused mid-stroke. Did she even have a right to call herself a mother
after…? It had tortured her for years.

But yes, she would protect
Lorene. “How can I get rid of her?” she murmured to herself as she walked to
her bedroom. She collapsed in her chair and pulled the huge black cat into her
lap. Thinking of ways to get rid of Lorene was one of her favorite past times
and she drifted off to sleep with many devious plans formulating in her mind.

“But mother, I can’t just
leave you here alone!” Lorene protested a week later. “There have been two
bodies found here in the past month! What kind of daughter would I be if I left
at a time like this?”

“One of those bodies was
from months ago,” Mrs. Dodd replied, calmly buttering her roll. The small roast
was sliced and ready, surrounded by carrots, onions, and potatoes. “Let’s just
eat.”

“Mother, the ideas you get
sometimes,” Lorene said, exasperated. But Mrs. Dodd noticed that she did linger
over her roll, the butter poised just above it.

“Lorene? Is something
wrong?” Mrs. Dodd was impatient. It had been a week since she had overheard the
policemen’s breakthrough and nothing had happened.
Day after
day had passed without another visit by the policemen to the psychic’s house.
The gossip around town had slowed to a trickle.
If they only knew
, the
old lady thought,
what I heard those policemen say.

Lorene shook her head
rapidly, as if clearing her thoughts, and went back to her roll. Mrs. Dodd
helped herself to several slices of roast along with a heaping helping of
carrots and potatoes. Getting rid of people who were in her way gave her a healthy
appetite.

“No,” Lorene said, but her
voice was reluctant as her knife hovered over her roll again.

“I just thought it would be
a nice idea for you to go visit Carole, what with news of the wedding and all.”
Mrs. Dodd did so want to come up with a clever plan and had actually had two or
three in the works when a bit of unexpected luck had come her way. Her
granddaughter and Lorene’s daughter, Carole, had called to say that she was
going to be married. Rick had finally proposed and could Mama come down to meet
his folks and help her with a few things? Mrs. Dodd had heard the excitement in
the chirping voice coming over the phone from where she listened on the
extension in her room. Why, she had almost congratulated her! She thought of
the scene that would have followed when Lorene discovered she was listening in
on the extension. How embarrassing that would have been!

“It would be nice,” Lorene
speculated, her words slow and careful.
She’s caving
, Mrs. Dodd thought.

“I’ll be fine here and Sissy
could
come
check on me or maybe even stay with me for
a few days,” Mrs. Dodd continued.

Lorene looked up quickly.
“Why no mother, I just can’t leave you here. But you could come with us?
Wouldn’t you like to see Carole and meet Rick? After all, you didn’t come with
me to visit them last time.”

“I don’t want to go,” Mrs.
Dodd replied. “I’ll meet Rick at the wedding. I’m sure he’s a nice boy if you
and Carole approve of him. Besides, they could come see us, couldn’t they? I’m
too old to be driving all that distance.”

“Alright mother, but it
really would be easier if you would just come along.” Lorene couldn’t help but
add the last part. She eyed her mother speculatively.

“So you’re going?” Mrs. Dodd
asked, trying to keep the excitement from her voice. It seemed like lately the
only time she ever got anything done was when she could get rid of Lorene.

“I don’t know,” Lorene
hesitated.

Time for the closing remarks
, Mrs. Dodd thought.
“Besides, who would look after your flowers if you were gone?
And Pumpkin and Ginger?”

“I’m sure I could find
someone to look after the flowers and the dog, but you’re right about that
cat.” Pumpkin was vicious to everyone but Mrs. Dodd and Lorene. And he only
tolerated Lorene.

“Alright, mother,” Lorene
sighed. “I’m going to have several people checking up on you, so please try to
be responsible.”

“You act as if I stay out at
different bars every night,” Mrs. Dodd said disgustedly.

“Mother!
At your age I would think
you could be a bit more civil. The things you say sometimes! It really is trying
for me to hear.”

“I’m sorry
Lorene,
I just don’t like being treated like a baby. I will
be fine. I’ve always taken care of myself. My father always said I had a strong
sense of self-preservation. And Sissy wouldn’t let anything happen to me. I
expect I’ll be bored to tears, puttering around this house, reading and
watching television the whole time you’re gone. And just how long do you think
that will be?” Mrs. Dodd’s blue eyes peered narrowly at Lorene.

“At least
a week, maybe two.
We have to get the dress fitted and I’m meeting his parents. Then we’re going
to look at locations for the reception, churches, a new house or apartment for
the two of them, food,
music
.” Lorene ticked off each
item on her fingers. “Oh, there’s just so much to do, so much more than when I
was a girl. And Carole said I’ll be in charge of the flowers,” Lorene’s voice
rose, high pitched almost giddy.

“That sounds… expensive,”
Mrs. Dodd said. She was honestly trying to be agreeable.

“Oh, mother,” Lorene scowled
and pursed her lips before filling her plate. Thinking better of it, she pushed
a little of it back into the serving platter.

“Well, I haven’t eaten off
of it and I will want to look presentable at the wedding,” she said
defensively. “And mother, please don’t watch all those gory murder mysteries
and unsolved crimes while I’m gone. I hate you watching all that mess.”

“You don’t seem to mind
describing it to me from the paper.
You
know that I don’t like hearing
horrible things about my relatives and friends. And anyway, it’s not mess. It’s
real life.” Mrs. Dodd considered her beloved mystery books briefly. “And made
up, but it’s interesting. It’s my hobby. You’re always saying I need them.”

Lorene harrumphed, “Are you
honestly saying, mother, that
murder
is your hobby?”

“No,” Mrs. Dodd replied
primly, taking a swift bite from a wedge of potato. “I’m saying solving them
is.”

I glanced despondently
around the shed, sure that I was in for some trouble. Lorene had called me over
early that morning to ask a favor. I wished now that I had never agreed to it.

“And please, keep an eye on
these tomatoes. I swear they’re like children to me.” She gazed fondly at them,
even reaching out to pet them.

“Are you sure that you want
me to take care of your plants while you’re gone?” I asked.

“Yes.”
Lorene’s
eyes widened fearfully, afraid that I was going to back out.
I have to
admit that after listening to almost two hours of instructions on the care of
the plants, I was reluctant to undertake such an arduous task. “Mother offered,
but she’s just not able to get around.”

I thought of how nimbly I
had seen her move when she thought no one was watching, but I said nothing. I
hadn’t even told Lorene about her mother’s eavesdropping. She would think I was
crazy if I accused her “frail” old mother of sneaking into my garden and under
my window to spy on two policemen and myself. Besides, I hoped it had given
Mrs. Dodd a healthy scare and that she would give up her amateur sleuthing for
good. She certainly hadn’t approached me again, for which I was thankful.

“And those neighborhood
boys…”
Lorene sneered.
“I
believe they’d kill my plants just for the fun of it.”

I felt she might be right,
but I didn’t want to admit it. I was terrified I would kill one of her plants.
“Isn’t your mother going with you?” I asked.

“No, she’ll be staying here.
Would you mind checking on her? Sissy is going to be as well, but I’d feel
better if I knew you were keeping an eye on her too.”

“Of course I will…” I
smiled.
If you only knew how much of an eye I’ve been keeping on her,
I
thought. Once again, the image of Mrs. Dodd sneaking through my yard and
crouched under my window came into my head.

“You’re such a dear.” Lorene
patted my cheek.

“Thank you, Lorene,” I said,
“but it’s really no problem. It looks as if the police aren’t going to need me
anymore. I can’t give them any further information.”

“You mean on those poor dead
girls?” Lorene looked sympathetic. I nodded.

“Yes. They haven’t called me
in quite a while now.” Not since the day they came to my house. Dunn had called
a couple of times to check on me, but he had seemed hurried.

“Are you giving up then?”
she asked eagerly. I must have frowned at her because she quickly backed off.
“I just hate to think of those girls being unsolved cases.”

I bit my lip. I hadn’t told
anybody about Dunn and Simms theory. I didn’t feel it was my place. Besides, it
would probably all come out soon.

“I’m still supposed to be
working on a couple of leads, but nothings come up yet,” I said.

Lorene smiled stiffly,
leading the way out of the humid little hothouse. “I’m sure it’s all private
business. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No!” I protested. “I didn’t
mean it like that.”

She laughed lightly. “Oh,
it’s all right dear. I guess I’m just on edge, leaving mother like this. I wish
she’d come with me, but she absolutely refuses.”

“I think she’s tougher than
you know, Mrs. Robinson,” I replied.

“Well.” Mrs. Robinson locked
the hothouse door and turned to me, presenting me with the key. “I’ll be going
now. I have to pack. I want to leave early so I won’t get there too late. My
goodness!” she exclaimed after checking her watch, “I hadn’t meant for this to
take so long. I better hurry! I’ll call you when I get there with my phone
number. You already have Carole’s.”

I said that I did and that I
hoped she had a good time.

“I don’t know what I’m
worried about,” she said, as she mounted the steps to her house. “Nothing ever
happens in Temple.” I knew she was trying to reassure herself.

I didn’t say anything. After
all, we both knew that wasn’t true.

“I want to thank you again
for being able to come out on such short notice,” Detective Dunn said, his arm
gripping mine tightly.

“I don’t mind at all,” I
replied, “but why are we going back here?” I didn’t want to go back to this
place.

“We’re hoping you could read
this spot again,” Dunn said. “Maybe help us come up with something new. You
mentioned before that you might be able to.”

I nodded without answering.
It was too hard to push through the underbrush anyway, much less talk at the
same time. Blood trickled down my fingers on my right hand where I had already
pulled briars free from my clothes. I tried to rub my hands clean, but the
blood smeared instead.

“This seems almost as hard
as it did that night,” I said, smiling wryly at Dunn, “and it was storming and
dark then.”

“I think it’s because it’s
warm today,” Dunn replied, turning to smile back at me before pushing his way
through another patch of weeds. “Also,” he admitted, “I think I may have started
off in the wrong direction.”

I had thought the same thing
when I had seen our entry point to the forest. It was a good distance from
where we had entered the night of the storm. “I thought you were supposed to be
a detective? Couldn’t you remember where to start?” I teased him.