Bob Moats - Jim Richards 01-03- 3 for Murder Box Set (4 page)

“You’d have to get to her computer to do that, huh?”

“Yeah, but I’m sure the police have her computer by now.”

While I was talking with Buck, I was getting my laptop online. I opened my mail program and scanned down the list. My eyes caught an address I recognized. It was from Dee. I felt that chill again and told Buck to hold on. I downloaded it, opened it up and read. I told Buck about it then read it to him.

“
James, I’m waiting for the police to come to my place. I just called them. You haven’t called so it’s OK if you don’t. I didn’t give you much warning. I got a threatening email, and I put off calling the police, so when Joyce said you worked for some detective company, I thought you might be able to help. After I sent you that last email I got another threat, and I decided to call the police. I’ve attached the emails so you can see what I was worried about. I know it’s been 42 years since I saw you last. I had hoped when we got into high school that you would contact me, but you didn’t so I figured you weren’t interested anymore. Life sucks, doesn’t it? Well, if you’d still like to call, or not, you have my number. Take care, Dee.”

“Damn internet, this email was delayed from the first email she sent me. Crap, and she was interested in me back then,” I lamented.

“Man, what a cruel blow. But she said she sent you the email threats?”

I was already opening the attachments. There were just two. I read them to Buck.

“Hello, Dee Wittenfield. You don’t know me but we are connected. I just wanted to send a friendly warning: You are honored to be the first classmate to die!”

And the second:

“Dee, I’ve been watching. Hiding in your room won’t stop me. Oh, and don’t call the police or you’ll die a painful death.”

“He was goading her to call the police,” I said, realizing when she didn’t call them after the first email he had to get her motivated. “He wanted to have the police there when he did it. Two blows, one to Dee and one to the cops.”

I opened up the email headers to see if they were the same and told Buck what I was doing.

“Yep, same headers as before. Came from whipit and sent out of the Pompo Deli. I think I need to take a trip there and check out the set-up,” I told Buck.

“Hey buddy, I’ll meet you there. It’s not far from me.” He sounded excited.

“Yeah, well, don’t go in till I’m there. See you shortly.” I hung up. I threw on some clothes and left a sticky note on my door in case mom needed me in the night. I quietly slipped out the back door. It was a bit after 8 P.M. and my taste buds were missing that first beer of the night, but I knew they could wait until I got back.

I drove out Groesbeck Hwy. toward Mt. Clemens to where the Pompo Deli was located just below the city limits, putting it in Clinton Twp., which was the jurisdiction of Sgt. Trapper. I had no idea how to reach him this late and I didn’t really want him around, to be honest about it. I pulled into the parking lot and spotted Buck’s SUV. Big man, big vehicle. He must have spotted me since he got out as I was pulling up.

Buck stood about one head taller than I did and I was five-ten, putting him well over six foot. I hoped he didn’t have his .38 in his belt. I asked. He said he didn’t, but he then said it was in the car. He was licensed to carry concealed so it didn’t bother me, I guess. I wasn’t expecting any trouble to need a gun.

We entered the deli. It was about half full of people eating, talking and some working on their laptops. There were six desktop computers along a wall for those who didn’t have a computer. Buck and I took a table by the workstations, and the waitress was quickly there. I ordered a Pepsi, and Buck got a Diet Sprite. Why diet, I couldn’t figure. He was thin enough, although most of him was muscle.

“This is eerie. The killer was right here sending out his threats,” I whispered to Buck.

“Why are you whispering? It’s noisy enough in here. No one is even close enough to hear.”

“I don’t know,” I said, louder now. “It just seemed the right thing to do. Besides, the killer could be here right now.”

“I hope he is. I’d like to kick his ass right up to his throat,” he snarled.

I looked around the room, ruling out people by their size. The killer had to be strong enough to choke Dee to death, so the wimpy geeks were ruled out. Honestly, I wouldn’t know what a killer even looked like. All my crime books left that to my imagination. On TV, they were the last person you would suspect, not very outstanding looking. One thing I did check earlier at home was the time and date the emails were sent from here. The waitress came back and dropped our drinks. I stopped her.

“Hi, you are?”

“Stacy,” she replied.

“Do you get a regular crowd in here, Stacy? I mean a lot of repeat customers?” I asked.

“Yeah, we get a few of the same people. I just don’t really get into their lives. They’re mostly engrossed with the internet.”

“Did you work last Sunday night around 10 P.M.?”

“Yeah, I was here. Seems like I’m always here what with everyone calling in sick. You know they aren’t sick, and with jobs at stake nowadays, they shouldn’t be messing around. Know what I mean?” she rambled.

“Yeah, I understand. But back to Sunday night, was anyone here on the computers acting strange?”

“Honey, they all act strange. Especially when they are downloading porn. We just look away, so I don’t pay much attention. Say, the police were in here this afternoon asking the same questions. You a cop?”

“No, just a concerned citizen. You read today’s paper about the woman who was strangled yesterday?” She nodded. “Well, she got a threatening email that looks like it may have been sent from here.”

The waitress just stared at me for a moment and then look shocked. “You mean to say the killer was right here? The cops didn’t say anything about that!”

“Maybe. It looks that way. Could you help by keeping an eye out for suspicious people and let me know?” I handed her one of my website business cards, and she took it tentatively like maybe I was the killer.  “I think he was here three different times and may be back for more.”

She didn’t speak, just walked away looking distressed.

“I think you got that girl all flustered.” Buck smiled.

“Well, if I stir up some people, it may make the killer do something stupid.”

“Or do something stupid and kill you.” He gave me his trademark big grin, making his mustache flair out like a walrus.

We drank our drinks, and Buck filled me in on everything going on at the dealership, making me more contented that I no longer worked there. After a while, I told Buck that I was a bit tired and had a beer calling me at home, so we said our so longs and went off into the night.

I snuck back into the house, seeing the sticky note still on my door, went in and undressed again. I snapped open a can of beer and opened up my email program again to look at Dee’s letters. I did a new scan of my email and noticed a new one had come in while I was gone. What hairs were left on my bald head were tightening up as I saw the sender’s name, whipit. I downloaded and read the letter.

“
Richards, you’re getting too nosey. Drop it or you’ll be on the list, too!
”

*

Chapter Four

Now I was concerned.

This was getting too close to home. He didn’t say I was going to die, but he implied I would be on the list if I didn’t back off. Should I back off, or was this a challenge to me? I figured Buck was still up and called him. I read the letter to him.

“You want me to come down with my pistol and camp out in your drive?” He was concerned.

“No, I’m not on the list yet, and I think he wants to go after those people first without adding me to his load.” I had just put human life into a load without meaning to do so.

“Well, any suspicious activity around your place, you call and I’ll be there!”

“Thanks, Buck, but I’m only three blocks from my local police station. I’m going to call there and see if anyone wants to hear my story,” I said to relieve him. We said our good nights, and I called the Clinton Twp. police instead of my local cops. I asked if possibly Sgt. Trapper was around and was told he wasn’t. I left my name and cell phone number and asked if they could call him and have him call me. It was an emergency, about the classmate killer. They said they would, and I sat back staring at the email.

About fifteen minutes later my cell phone rang. It came up on caller ID as “private number.” I hated to answer those calls but figured Trapper wouldn’t want people having his number.

“Hello,” I said into the phone.

“Richards, what do you want?” He sounded tired.

I related the whole night from when I left his office, and I could hear his grumbling as I went on.

“Who told you that you could start your own investigation?” he exploded. “You’re not even licensed to investigate!”

“I wasn’t investigating; I was asking questions for my own benefit. Just to ease my mind,” I countered. “Besides, now you have something more to draw him out.”

“I’m not using you for bait, Richards, so get that idea out of your head and don’t pursue it anymore!”

“Well, the date-time on the header of my email says that he was in the deli while I was there. He sent it out just after I left.” I could imagine what the waitress would have said had she known that. “He would have had to know me, or how would he have sent the email so quickly, and why did he assume I was asking questions about him?” I thought about the waitress. She could have gone around talking to people about my being there.

“Well, I doubt he’s still there, but I’ll have Becker drive me by there to have a look. We’re in the area checking out a few leads on another case. The crap never rests. It will probably just chase him out, if he is still there.”

“Ok, do that. Let me know if anything develops,” I said with a grin that he couldn’t see through the phone.

“Forget it, Richards! You’re not part of this, and I don’t want to find out you are nosing around again.”

“Ok, Sarge, I won’t let you find out.” I grinned again and hung up before he could reply.

I’m sure I was pissing him off, which might not be a good thing, but I had become part of this when the killer threatened me. I had to be careful, though. I didn’t want any backlash toward my parents.

I pulled out the local business phone book, looked up the Pompo Deli and added the number to my cell phone book. I dialed the number, and after a couple of rings a female voice came on.

“May I speak to Stacy?” I asked.

“You got her,” she replied.

“Stacy, I was in there a couple hours ago. I asked you about suspicious people. I gave you my card.”

“Yeah, I remember you and the big bruiser with you,” she replied.

Bruiser. I never thought of that word to describe Buck, but I guess it would fit.

“After we left, did anyone ask about me?”

“Yeah, as a matter of fact, some guy asked if your name was Jim, and I said yes since it was on your card. He said he thought it was you and knew you from high school. I showed him your card, and he asked if I knew you. I said, no, I had just met you and told him you were asking me about suspicious people. He was nice and talked a bit but I had to work. He thanked me and went back to his computer. Funny thing, he didn’t look as old as you to be in high school with you. No offense to your age.”

“What did he look like?” I asked, ignoring her age comment.