Cellar Door (27 page)

Liam

Madonna sleeps as I consider the things we figured out last night about the man who calls himself
Kikazaru
. He’s referring to the Three Wise Monkeys, of course. Even though he’s obviously working with a theme for his kills, the guy’s all over the place. Serial killers are categorized in one of two ways: organized and disorganized. Somehow, this guy is managing to be both—an organized disorganized killer?! After I found out my brother was a serial killer, I spent hundreds of hours researching everything I could find on the subject. I just never thought I’d have occasion to put that knowledge to use.

Today’s the day I’m going to help the FBI find the man who has been eluding them. My plan is to sit down and talk to them in depth about everything that’s been going on. Of course I’ll leave out anything pertaining to Madonna’s abduction. I really didn’t want to get too involved in this shit after all I went through with my brother, but I can’t allow lives to be taken while I idly sit by and do nothing. I guess up until this point I needed proof, and then there’s that whole
kidnapping Madonna
thing. It wasn’t like I could inform the police about a serial killer while I had a woman caged in my basement.

Once I approach Agent Turner I’ll be opening the flood gates and there will no longer be any privacy in my world. I’m still not sure I can trust Madonna although in recent days we’ve forged a connection that goes far deeper than the circumstances that brought us together. But still…would she tell them I took her against her will? I’m counting on her to stand by me even though we didn’t get off to a conventional start—I hope I’m not deceiving myself. It will be my undoing if I am.

The doorbell interrupts my thoughts. Curiosity wins out so I throw on the sweats and t-shirt I had draped over a chair last night and walk to the front door. Just in case she’s awake, I call over my shoulder that I’ll be right back.

Agent Turner and his partner are standing on my doorstep, both assuming a stoic, professional stance. “Good to see you two, I was planning to call you later today.”

After nodding to his partner, who pulls out a pair of cuffs, Turner addresses me in a formal voice: “Doctor Liam Sheldon Chambers, you’re under arrest for first-degree murder…”

Madonna

“I’ll be back in a minute, babe.”

Though I’m groggy I peel my eyelids back to see Liam leave the room and head downstairs. I feel compelled to get up and follow him, so I pull on my robe and stand at the top of the stairs as he opens the door. I’m shocked to see Agent Turner standing there with his partner.

Hmm, maybe he called them early to have them meet him here so he can fill them in on his brother’s groupie.
My jaw drops at Turner’s next words.

“Dr. Liam Sheldon Chambers, you’re under arrest for first-degree murder.”

“Wait a minute! What the hell is going on?!?” I yell as I charge down the steps.

“Stand back, Miss!” Agent Murphy rests her hand on her holstered weapon and I can see that the real side of the redhead is revealing itself now. I knew she was a sneaky bitch when I talked to her at the crime scene. All that moral, compassionate shit she portrayed was nothing more than a front to get me to talk.

Liam looks at me over his shoulder as they pull him down the front steps with Agent Murphy reciting the Miranda Rights. Liam appears to be in shock, but gathers his wits long enough to tell me to call his lawyer. “His name is John Jacobs. His number is in my rolodex on my desk.”

“I will, I will. Tell them what’s been going on, Liam, and I’ll have him down there within the hour.”

From nowhere his brother’s parting words come to mind:
“You know, rumor has it they may have locked up the wrong brother. My brother and I look so much alike I’ve fucked his women…they never even knew…you could be living with a serial killer…”

If it’s true, do I still want to help him? I’m horrified to find myself debating it. How in the hell could I even consider helping a man who may or may not be a fucking serial killer? On the other hand, how in the hell could I not help the man who risked everything to save my life? I understand now that that’s what he did.

I push Lance’s words out of my mind. He said all that just to put doubt in my head about Liam and I refuse to give him the satisfaction of getting to me from where he sits behind bars.

Fuck Lance, fuck my stalker, and fuck the FBI; it’s time for me to put on my big girl panties and get Liam out of jail. The first thing I need to do is get in touch with his lawyer. Then I’m getting dressed and taking my ass downtown to support the only person who has ever been there for me.

The lawyer’s number is easy enough to find and I call him to let him know what’s happened. He assures me he’s headed downtown and that Liam knows to be quiet until he gets there. I realize the reason Liam knows so much about police interrogation is because he had an insider’s view of the investigation into his brother’s crimes. It doesn’t matter if it was his brother who was the bad guy. That sort of scandal always produces a cloud of suspicion in the court of public opinion.

Liam

Agent Turner wastes no time letting me know why I’m here and I couldn’t be more shocked. He stands over me with one hand on the table as he tosses a photograph down in front of me. It’s a photo of a dead woman. She’s young and I find myself feeling sorry for her family, who will spend a lifetime coping with the emotional fallout of losing a daughter, a sister, a friend.

“Do you know this woman?”

“No, sir, I do not.”

“Well, I find that hard to believe since your DNA was left on her, or I guess I should say
in
her.”

He’s trying to rattle me. “That isn’t possible. I’m not sleeping with anyone but the woman I’m presently seeing—I believe you’ve met her already.”

“I’m telling you… Your. Semen. Was. Found. Inside. This. Woman. As identical twins, you and your brother share the same DNA, yes, but we’ve ruled him out because he’s spending his time under lock and key these days. That leaves you. Now just how do you explain that?”

This is not the same mild-mannered man I talked to in the hospital parking garage. He’s leaning forward aggressively, jabbing his finger in my face. I know how this goes: good cop is now bad cop. I also know losing my cool with him won’t help. I’m not going to give the son of a bitch the satisfaction of rattling me.

“I have nothing to explain, as I’ve already said. The only woman on the receiving end of my DNA is the woman I’m presently seeing.”

“Not another word, Liam.”

I recognize the stern voice of my lawyer as he walks in and sets his briefcase on the table. He’s the best of the best, but I wonder if even he can get me out of this jam, being that the FBI appears to have DNA evidence.
The one thing I have going for me is I’m no stranger to the legal system. This is most certainly not the first time my feet have been held to the fire.

“That’s fine,” Turner says as if he’s discussing the weather. “He doesn’t need to say anything, Mr. Jacobs. The evidence speaks for itself.”

Damn, this guy isn’t even intimidated by my hotshot attorney. Agent Turner is a man on a mission—and his mission is to convict me of first degree murder. For the first time since the questioning began, I feel a sense of uneasiness.

“I’d like a word alone with my client. You will, of course, turn off any cameras or audio feeds during this confidential meeting with my client.”

I’m just relieved to get a reprieve from the intense interrogation session. Neither agent says anything, they just turn toward the door, leaving me alone with my lawyer and the surveillance camera that’s pointed in my direction.

Even though I know the two agents are most likely standing in a room watching us on a remote video feed, I don’t care if they hear what I’m about to say. I’m well aware of client/lawyer confidentiality—I’m also well aware the FBI will do anything it takes to close a case when they believe they have their man. They’re convinced I’m a killer. The only ally I have right now is the man I’m paying to represent me. I’m not even convinced Madonna won’t tell them what I’ve done.

“I’m concerned about my girlfriend. I’m convinced the killer is after her. She started staying with me after this guy started stalking her. You already know my brother’s story. What you don’t know is that Lance had planned on her being his next victim. After he got locked up, he talked some copycat groupie into doing his dirty work.”

“So you’re saying this guy who is stalking her is the same guy who has been in the news for the last month?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. And if you don’t get me out of here he’s going to kill her. The man is living in my brother’s old home. Hell, the realtor couldn’t
give
the house away, nobody wanted to buy it – except him. He visits my brother regularly and I believe he’s been doing copycat killings. He’s the man known as
Kikazaru
.”

“Interesting. Well, that would explain a lot. I hope like hell you’re right, or you could very well end up sharing a cell with your brother.”

“Even from behind bars, my brother has managed to set me up.” I’m sure he’s delighted about his victory. The man lives to fuck with me. From behind bars he has not only manipulated me but the FBI as well. I’ll give the guy one thing: he’s smart. I listen to my lawyer, hoping he can offer some glimmer of hope.

“Well, I don’t know how he did it, but if what you’re saying is true, talking to those agents is the only way you’re going to get out of this.” He doesn’t give me time to answer, just goes over to the large mirrored wall and knocks on the glass.