Before She Dies (13 page)
“I remember that case,” Garrison said. “My dad worked it.” Garrison’s father had been a thirty-year veteran of the department and still remained a resource on old or cold cases. “Tell me she did not give this woman hope.”
“According to Ms. Powers, Diane believed Bia was alive. Ms. Powers agrees with Young and was working with Young to find out who took the child.”
“Any leads?” Kier said.
“Ms. Powers said that Ms. Young never was able to give her anything, but that didn’t stop her from asking.”
“Or stop Young from billing her.” Kier’s words dripped with disgust.
Rokov nodded. “Young made a good living mostly on the worries and fears of others.”
“Makes for a lot of enemies,” Kier said.
“Powers has no relatives. She lives a hermit’s life in Arlington. We are still checking alibis from the other top clients. It’s going to take a while.” He checked his notes. “There is another guy in Leesburg. Paul Stanford. He plays the horses and consulted Diane for guidance. He’s next on our to-be-visited list.”
“What did Audrey tell us about Young’s last few days?” Garrison said.
Rokov rose and went to the white board. “We know that the last day she logged on to her computer was Friday, October fifteenth, at six in the morning, and she remained on her computer until four in the afternoon. We have records of the e-mails she sent to clients as well as the website copy she was writing for her November forecasts, which she planned to post in a couple of weeks. She appears to have shut down her computer for good that same afternoon.”
“Her body was found on Tuesday. When does the medical examiner estimate the time of death?” Garrison said.
“Liver temperature suggests that she died on Monday just after midnight,” Sinclair added.
“So what happened to her between Friday afternoon and Monday?” Kier said.
“Surveillance cameras at her apartment building show her leaving the building just after six on Friday evening. She gets in her car and credit card receipts show that she gassed up fifteen minutes later on Route 7.”
“We have footage of her filling up her car and then safely driving off. She was headed west toward Bailey’s Crossroads.”
“And?” Deacon said.
“And then she stopped by her branch bank and withdrew five hundred dollars from her bank account, which she seems to do regularly each month.” Rokov moved to the television and turned on the DVD disk. “The bank’s ATM camera does show a man walking up to her.” They all watched as a man wearing a hoodie approached her. The man’s face and race were obscured, but it was clear he had a medium build and was about six feet. Diane grinned up at him when he knocked on her window. She unlocked her door and he climbed into the front seat of her car. Then they drove off. “And that is the last she’s seen,” Rokov said.
“Until she shows up dead in the abandoned building,” Kier said.
“Exactly.”
“We showed the tape to her sister, Suzanne Young. She does not recognize the man, but did mention that her sister had been in great spirits lately.”
“Any mention of a man?” Kier said.
“Sister thought Diane might have a guy but they’d had no real discussion,” Rokov said.
“Are there any other cameras that pick this guy up near the bank?”
“There is a pizza place next door, and we see him arrive on foot. He crosses the lot directly in front of the camera, but again he’s careful to hide his face. It was as if he had planned this moment down to the last detail.”
Garrison rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “What else did the medical examiner say?”
Rokov opened his file and read Dr. Henson’s clinical words that detailed the trauma. “The victim was sexually assaulted several times, both vaginally and anally. She has ligature marks on her wrists and ankles and there is bruising on her arms. The real kicker is the water in her lungs.”
“He drowned her?” Kier said.
“Her ribs were cracked and her heart was damaged as if it had stopped and been restarted several times. We think he drowned her and then revived her.”
The words washed over everyone and settled a heavy weight on their shoulders.
Rokov posted pictures taken at the crime scene of the salt circle as well as the pentagram. “Read your witch trial history, and you’ll find that it wasn’t uncommon to elicit confessions by trying to drown the victims.”
Kier leaned forward. “You mean to tell me that the killer is some kind of witch hunter?”
“Right now, all I know is that there are signs of the occult at the murder scene, my victim told fortunes, and my victim was drowned repeatedly.”
Garrison hooked his thumbs in his belt. “How much does the media have?”
“Only that police are investigating the murder of a young woman. We were going to release her picture today and identify her. My hope is that someone might have seen her and her killer in that bank parking lot.”
Garrison nodded. “Do you realize this kind of story is going to pull the crazies out of the woodwork? I don’t even want to consider the tips that will come in on the tip line.”
“October and witches,” Kier said. “Doesn’t get any more entertaining than that for the press.”
Garrison rubbed his neck. “Identify her and let the media know what she did for a living. But let’s still hold off any crime scene details.”
“Will do,” Rokov said. “Sinclair and I could use you both. The sooner we track down clients and neighbors, the better.”
“Whatever you need, Rokov,” Garrison said.
Charlotte pulled up in front of the New Age shop located on Washington Street in Old Town. The brick town house wasn’t old like the buildings near the river, but had been designed to mimic the old world colonial style. This was a busy street, and the shop looked like it would see a good bit of traffic. Points to Sooner for choosing the spot.
She set the parking break on her BMW as her mind drifted back to the call she’d just ended. Levi had not been thrilled about Samantha turning down his plea bargain.
“If she thinks I’ll make a better deal, she can forget it.” Levi’s voice had been ripe with tension.
“She doesn’t want a better deal.”
“She’s a fool. The jury is going to come back with a guilty verdict.”
“I don’t agree.”
“When she is taken away from her kids for the next twenty years, this will be on you, Charlotte.”
Charlotte carefully slid on her sunglasses and scanned the busy street for Sooner’s tall frame and dark hair in the sea of passersby. Seconds and then minutes passed, and there was no sign of Sooner. Charlotte checked her watch. The girl was twenty minutes late.
Tamping down irritation, she considered bagging this entire venture and leaving. Time was money, literally for Charlotte, and she could not waste either now.
Who are you kidding? You’ll wait as long as it takes.
Her BlackBerry buzzed, and she checked the number. Angie. Charlotte hit send. “Angie. What can I do for you?”
“I wanted to remind you that I have a fund-raising meeting this afternoon. We’ve got about a week to go before the big event, and there are too many details to wrap up.”
More lost time and revenue. “Angie, remind me why I let you give away so many billable hours?”
Angie chuckled. “Because you like me and because your heart is not as black as the world might think.”
A hint of a smile tipped the edge of her lips. “Don’t bet on it. I’m evil to the bone.”
“You’ve a core of marshmallow. But don’t worry, I won’t tell.”
“You’re fired if you do.”
“Hey, have you gotten your costume yet?”
Horns blared as a car screeched to a halt at the intersection down the block. The driver yelled obscenities and Charlotte’s gaze tracked the direction of the driver’s raging fist. Sooner hurried across the street, her short red skirt, black sweater, leggings, and long dark boots hugging every inch of her frame. Dark hair flowed behind her as she glanced toward the driver and gave him the finger.
The driver studied Sooner a long moment then shook his head.
Charlotte cringed. “My what?”
“Costume. You need to wear a costume to this event.”
Sooner reached the corner and shouldered her way through a group of tourists. “You never told me I had to wear a costume.”
“I did. Twice. But I suspect, like now, you were half listening. Where are you anyway?”
Charlotte turned from Sooner and refocused her attention on Angie. “It’s a long story. I’ll fill you in later.”
“I meant to ask you about Grady Tate. He was the one profiled in the paper on Sunday. He runs that carnival.”
Tension slithered up her back and coiled around her throat. “He is the one.”
“Think he’d help us out with the Halloween event? Maybe send us a couple of clowns or something?”
“Angie, don’t ask Grady for any favors. When he gives a little, he takes a lot.”
“I’m a big girl. I think I could handle him.”
Sooner spotted Charlotte and raised her hand in greeting. She moved with a confidence few girls her age possessed. Charlotte certainly hadn’t had that kind of panache at eighteen. She’d woven the threads of her confidence together by studying other women she admired. “Believe me, you can’t. You play by the rules. Grady does not. Do us both a favor and stay away from him.”
“One day you’re going to tell me why.”
“Not likely.” They said their good-byes and Charlotte hung up just as Sooner reached her. “You’re late.”
“Ten minutes. I know. We had a last-minute meeting at the carnival. Grady was giving a big speech about putting on great shows this week.”
“He still does that?”
“He’s obsessed with creating a magical illusion at the carnival.” She brushed a strand of hair from her face, giving Charlotte a glimpse of a star tattoo on the underside of her wrist.
“It’s why he’s been in business so long.”
Sooner rested a fist on her narrow hip. “Sounds like you’re defending the guy.”
“Not in the least. But I learned a lot from him. When it came to running a business, he is smart and he knows how to work a crowd.”
“He’s a pain in the ass. He is driving me crazy.” Sooner huffed as if that was something done by a grown-up, exasperated woman. However, the sound reminded Charlotte more of a girl pretending to be a woman.
A question that had been festering since yesterday begged to be asked. “Was Grady good to you growing up?”
“He was okay, I guess.”
“What does that mean?”
“He didn’t beat me or anything. But he was a hard ass about dating and me having any kind of freedom.”
“He said you were homeschooled.”
“If you can call it that. I knew more than the teachers.”
Two men approached Sooner from behind and cast appreciative glances at her backside. Charlotte’s gaze narrowed as she glared at them. They spotted Charlotte and both had the good sense to look away.
Sooner chuckled. “Were you just doing the maiden aunt thing for me?”
Charlotte frowned. “Not at all.”
Her denial amused Sooner. “Oh, but you so were. You scared those dudes shitless.”
“I did not.” She had and took a perverse pleasure from it. “Ready to have a look at your new space?”
“Yes. I really want to show it to someone who can tell me if I’m full of shit or not.”
“You don’t need to curse.”
Sooner laughed. “Why? They’re just words.”
“They leave a lasting impression. Ask yourself if you want statements taken seriously or dismissed.”
Sooner laughed. “So who died and left you in charge of me?”
“Nobody. Just friendly advice.” She could have critiqued the girl’s outfit as well.
Tone it down. You don’t need to grab attention all the time.
But she’d said enough. Sooner was right, no one had died and left her in charge of anyone. “Let’s see the space?”
Tone it down. You don’t need to grab attention all the time.
But she’d said enough. Sooner was right, no one had died and left her in charge of anyone. “Let’s see the space?”
“Yes.” Sooner crossed the sidewalk to the front door of Ageless. The sound of New Age music mingling with the scents of incense greeted them. With even greater confidence, Sooner called out, “Mark!”
Charlotte glanced around the shop and with a critical eye assessed walls covered with shelves stocked with crystals, books, incense, and any other talisman or superstitious gizmo anyone would want to own. Charlotte lifted a “magical” crystal on the checkout counter and inspected it. Lovely the way it caught the light, but the stone was about as magical as a strip of asphalt or a brick.
“Mark!” Sooner glanced at her. “He must be in the back. I’ll find him.”
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