Bob Moats - Jim Richards 01-03- 3 for Murder Box Set (7 page)

“Go to bed and hope tomorrow I get no calls about more cheerleader deaths.”

“Not going to investigate any more? Man, you’re not going to disappoint me now, are you?” Buck sounded distressed.

“Yeah, well, expect disappointment. I’m worn down. We’ll see what tomorrow brings.”

“Ok, buddy. I have to work tonight, so I won’t be camped in your drive. Protect yourself.”

Buck pulled into my drive. We said our good nights, and I went in.

I got home with time to spare. I went into my room and checked my email to see if whipit had any more threats for me. There were none. I guess I was a bit disappointed.

I finished helping get Dad to bed and went back online. I just sat there staring at the monitor, almost in a trance, before I caught a second wind and went to do a search on Nathan Rocco.

After about three search pages I found an obituary with his name in it. I opened the link and read.

“
Nathan R. Rocco, 78, passed away quietly December 15, 2008, after a lengthy illness. Mr. Rocco was a janitor at Heavenly Chapel Church in Bad Axe, MI, for the last seven years and taught Sunday school for the youth. Divorced, he is survived by a daughter; Julia Waters of Chicago, Ill. Mr. Rocco attended Michigan State University receiving a degree in physical education. He taught PhysEd for five years in the Macomb County school district before moving to Bad Axe. Donations can be sent to the Heavenly Chapel building fund to add a wing for improved classrooms.”

Dead now about four months. Well, he couldn’t be killing the women unless his ghost was slipping through the walls to kill. There were no more search links to be found on Rocco, so I did a search on Julia Waters, his daughter. She came up pretty fast. She was a major criminal lawyer in Chicago. She had received many awards and acclaim for her work for woman’s rights and protections from abusive spouses. I read further, but there was not much more info, nothing about her father. It did say she came back to her hometown in Michigan once a year to visit family. Didn’t say what that hometown was. I presumed Bad Axe, but it did say she was in her late thirties so Bad Axe couldn’t be her original hometown.

I wrote down the name of the law firm that she worked at and shut down the browser after checking my email again and finding nothing important or harmful. I looked up to the clock, it was now almost midnight.

I crawled into bed thinking about the day and how fate can screw with people’s lives. I was thinking about Sue Carter and the miserable life she had. I hoped the police would at least keep her safe. Tomorrow I would try to get in touch with Penny Wickens from her website. She was the most successful of the cheerleaders. She had a small local talk show on cable TV and was high profile around the community for her charitable work. She would probably be well protected by now. The police wouldn’t want the publicity of her murder on their hands. I wondered if I should share what I found about Rocco and his daughter with Trapper or wait until I had more information. Probably wouldn’t matter. He most likely had all the gory details by now. He does have the internet. Amazing thing, the internet. It keeps us informed and entertained, yet it has a dark side. Like email threats. My eyelids started to droop so I just let them go into the night.

*

Chapter Six

By 9 A.M. I awoke feeling quite refreshed. No calls during the night to disturb my slumber, and no mother banging on the door about some suspicious character stalking around the house. My first goal of the day was to call Chicago to see if Julia Waters had been out of the state. I knew the police would be doing all the investigating, but this was too close to home for me to just let go. My curiosity was peaked, and I couldn’t get the thought of people I knew being killed while I did nothing about it. That wasn’t me.

I dressed and said my good mornings to my parents then went to the front porch to get the local newspaper. The delivery person had thrown it in the bushes again, and bending over for me was getting to be harder to do every day. Again I threatened to not age anymore.

I brought the paper in for Mom but checked it first to see what they had said about Joyce Harper. The article was brief, I’m sure at the request of the police. There was nothing much more there that I didn’t already know, except I did know a bit more than reported. Marge Holden’s murder was in another county so the local papers didn’t carry it. I was sure the police wanted to minimize panic by not revealing the link between the murders. I realized this wasn’t random serial killings, this was premeditated toward specific persons, but the public would believe what they wanted, just like some people believe our government is doing a good job. The local police stated that Joyce Harper looked like an accidental poisoning. That was their unofficial statement.

Since Chicago was an hour behind us, I waited till 10:00 to call the Law office of Bander, Witt and Grey. I always disliked the names that law firms have by using the partners’ names. They should do like other businesses do and give it a catchy name like, “Stab’em, Slab’em and We Get Them Off.” I checked my email for the tenth time. Nothing still. I watched the clock slowly crawl up to 10 A.M. and picked my cell phone up, set the call number block on it and dialed the number.

It rang twice, and a voice spoke, “Bander, Witt and Grey. How may I direct you?”

“Well, I just want some information. Maybe you can help me,” I said with a smile on my face. I learned long ago from when I was sucked into selling life insurance, when you cold call on the phone, you put a really big smile on your face and it comes across on the other end. People tend to trust you.

“I’ll try, sir. What is it you would like to know?” she replied pleasantly.

“I’m on staff with a woman’s shelter here in Michigan, and a friend of mine said he heard your Miss Waters was in the Saginaw area, talking to a group there this last week. I was wondering if she is still in the state, and would she be able to come to speak to our group?” I lied.

The voice on the phone hesitated then said, “Miss Waters has been in California for the last month with our new branch there. She’s helping to open up the offices and isn’t expected to be back for a couple of weeks. She has not been in Michigan since the funeral of her father last December. Who are you, please?”

“Well, I guess I was mistaken. Thank you.” I hung up the phone. Now I knew she wasn’t involved locally, but could have set something up with an accomplice here. Being a criminal lawyer, she must know some unsavory people.

I had just started my day, and my brain was already weary from coming up with a good front for my call. I thought maybe I should start taking vitamins. My mother tries to get me to take Centrum Silver, but the name implies that I’m old. OK, I am old, but why push it?

I called Trapper and did my duty to report. He came on in his usual grumpy voice. “Speak!”

“Good morning to you, sunshine.” I did that big smile thing.

“What the hell do you want now, Richards?” He wasn’t smiling, I could tell.

“Just some info I picked up while easing my mind. Not investigating, mind you, just looking.” My smile widened.

“Fine, whatever, what have you got?”

I told him of my exploration on the internet and the obit of Rocco. He already knew that Rocco was dead. I told him of the daughter and that she was in California for the times of the murders, but that she could have hired someone to do the deed.

“Richards, stop theorizing. That’s our job. I do appreciate the info on the daughter. I guess I should teach my men to use the internet for more than watching porn. I’m still trying to track down Linda Grolich. She’s on vacation somewhere, but no one seems knows where. I’ve got men hanging around Penny Wickens. She’s not happy, but they are staying out of the way of the cameras so she’s going along with it. Since her cheerleader pals are being knocked off, she doesn’t want to be one. I still have to interview her, so don’t go snooping around, eh?”

“Me, snoop? Hardly. I inquire”.

“Well, quit it. I have enough of a headache without you being killed. Remember, you were threatened, too.” He hung up.

I sat back and thought about that last statement. I was threatened, and this person had succeeded in killing three people already with police standing around. I had no police protection. So I called Buck.

He didn’t answer his phone. I presumed since he worked midnight last night, he was sleeping.

I checked my email again. Nothing dire or threatening, but there were a couple of pictures of winsomely naked females playing soccer while drooling men stood on the side lines that Buck had included in his batch of email. The girls had their uniforms painted on their upper body, but you could tell they were naked other than a thong to cover their lower private parts. I really shouldn’t start my day with that image in my head. I have to remember to read Buck’s mails later in the evening.

I went to Penny Wickens’ website again. It was about her TV talk show, “Penny for Your Thoughts.” I wondered who dreamed that up. They taped early in the day for broadcasting later in the afternoon. I went to see a taping of the Bozo the Clown show years back in Windsor, Canada, across from Detroit. It was amazing how they can make such a small studio look so huge on TV. I got the address of Penny’s studio. It wasn’t too far away. I gathered my toys: Treo cell phone, Palm PDA, flash drives, earbuds, Swiss army knife, business card case, etc. I was ready for anything. I left after consulting for mom’s needs.

I did a search for the location of the studio on my Palm TX and set the Mapopolis GPS to guide me there. Traffic wasn’t too bad that morning, so it took me only thirty-five minutes to get there. I parked in the visitor lot after telling the gate guard that I was there to see Penny. He gave me a suspicious look and told me to wait while he called in. I gave him my name when he asked, and he waited for whoever was on the other end to confer with Penny to see if I was legit. He smiled and sent me through. I thought about asking if they were hiring more guards since I had the experience. I parked, went in the door marked main entrance and told the receptionist who I was there to see. She also called ahead to verify. I will say the killer definitely wouldn’t get in here without an appointment. The receptionist pointed me in the direction, and I dutifully follow orders.

I came down a long hallway with people buzzing up and down and around, then found the door with Penny’s name on it. There was a big burly cop sitting on a metal chair by the door looking uncomfortable. He stood up as I approached.

“You got business here?” he growled.

“Jim Richards. Miss Wickens is expecting me.” I hoped she had from all the calls ahead.

He poked his head in the door and inquired. I heard Penny yell, “Tell that S.O.B. to get in here!”

Wow, that made me feel welcome. I smiled to the cop and slipped through the door. Penny was in a pink, furry robe and was having make-up put on. She pushed the make-up girl aside, bounced up and latched on me with a bear hug that would give me dreams for a month. Soft flesh, smelled great, perky breasts. She looked as young as she did back in school, the wonders of cosmetic surgery.  I’m sure she stopped aging at forty.

Damn, Jimmy, you look…old.” She laughed. It was a nice laugh, soft and airy. “But still good looking.”

“Thanks, and your fortunes have kept you looking young.” I smiled. She punched me lightly on the shoulder and laughed again.

“Sit down, you old coot, and tell me about yourself,” she commanded as she went back to her make-up table.

I was fixated on her. There are some people on TV who look good, but in real life they can be gorgeous. She was. I sat facing her, and she bent over to pick up a brush she dropped, exposing a breast through the front of her robe. My crotch got tighter.

“Well,” I stammered as she grinned, “after high school I goofed off for about six months, then Uncle Sam called me to action. I ended up in Germany. Out of the army, I goofed off again, then got married the first time. Divorced four years later, goofed off for about a year having sex with as many young innocent girls as I could, then married again.”