Her Dying Breath (31 page)

The senator shook the mayor’s hand and accepted his condolences. “Don’t let your daughter plaster his picture all over the news like this. My son deserves more respect than that.”

“I won’t,” Mayor Banks assured him. “And I promise we’ll see that your son gets justice.”

The senator turned to Nick. “Was my son killed by the same maniac who murdered those other two men?”

“We won’t know that until we investigate, but it appears that way.”

Senator Stowe glanced at his wife, misery on his face, the smooth politician gone. But rage flared in his eyes when he looked at Brenda.

Nick’s heart stuttered at the pain on Brenda’s face. This was not her fault, and he’d make damn well sure she knew it before it was over.

But for now, he had to do his job.

And that meant asking questions the Stowes might not want to answer.

Brenda struggled to don a professional expression as Louis walked toward her with the camera, but her father’s disapproving scowl was almost more than she could bear.

At least Nick had made an attempt to defend her.

“Brenda, what do you know about Ron’s death?” her father asked in a hushed voice.

Brenda clenched and unclenched her hands in an effort to calm herself. “Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me. Your mother told me that you were supposed to go with Ron to the fund-raiser last night. But we were all there, and neither of you showed up.”

Good Lord. Had Ron told them she was coming as his date? She had considered the invitation just so she could cover the event, but her boss had assigned someone else to do the job, wanting her to focus on the murders. Who knew they might cross at some point? “Dad, Ron did ask me, but I told him no. I have no idea where he was last night.”

“You weren’t with him?”

“For God’s sake, you know that I was resting from the accident.”

Uncertainty drew her father’s mouth downward. “I know we left you in bed late in the afternoon, but you were gone when we arrived home last night.”

Anger mushroomed inside Brenda. The last thing she’d expected was for her own father to interrogate her. “I went home to sleep in my own bed.” Louis wove through the small crowd, his camera on his shoulder. “Now, I have work to do.”

“Your work almost got you killed,” her father said. “And look what it did to Ron Stowe.”

Brenda was seething inside. “My job didn’t get him killed, Dad,” Brenda said. “But I am going to help find out who murdered him.” She motioned to Louis. “Why don’t we start with an
interview with the town’s mayor? That is, if you can be objective and not crucify me in front of the camera.”

“What should I say, Brenda? The sheriff and that agent haven’t given me any information.”

“Just tell the people what they want to hear, Dad. You’ve always been good at glossing over the truth.”

Another glint of anger registered before he tamped it back down and straightened his collar. “All right. Let’s do it.”

Brenda strategically led him over to a shade tree, positioning the interview to showcase the sanitarium in the background. “Mayor Banks,” Brenda began. “We’re here for another breaking story. Unfortunately, Slaughter Creek has seen another murder. This time, we sadly report that it’s Senator Stowe’s son, Ron, who has been killed. His body was left in front of Slaughter Creek Sanitarium.”

“Yes,” her father said, his voice grave. “It is tragic, and we’re all saddened by his loss. Ron Stowe was an advocate for the senator as well as a gifted and talented spokesperson himself. The senator and I are personal friends, and he had aspirations that his son was going to follow in his footsteps.”

Brenda swallowed against the lump in her throat. “Mayor, with the recent revelations about Arthur Blackwood’s arrest, and now four murders in our town in the last two weeks, what would you like to say to the residents of Slaughter Creek?”

He rubbed a hand over his bald spot, a dead giveaway he was ticked off at her. “I would like to encourage residents to please be cautious, to report any suspicious activity or person to the police, and if you know anything about Ron Stowe’s murder or any of the other victims, to come forward.” He paused and cleared his throat. “That said, I am mayor of Slaughter Creek, and I promise each and every resident that I won’t stop until the police arrest the Slaughter Creek Strangler, so we can restore peace in the town.”

Brenda gripped the microphone and smiled at her father for the television. But inside she was furious. He had just glorified
Seven by pinning her with a nickname, one that would no doubt stick. “Thank you, Mayor Banks.” She gestured to Louis. “Now let’s see if Sheriff Blackwood has any details to share with us.”

She strode toward Jake, still shaken by the fact that not only did the senator blame her for Ron’s death, but her father did as well.

Nick corralled the Stowes into the hospital cafeteria, then sent one of the bodyguards for water and coffee. Mrs. Stowe dug some pills from her purse and knocked them back with the water.

Her face looked ashen, her makeup smeared, her hands trembling as she set down the cup. The senator had taken a seat beside her and spoke in a hushed voice, trying to calm her. But it was obvious they were both suffering from shock and grief. And a good dose of anger.

Who could blame them?

He should have caught this unsub before now.

He gave them a minute to console each other while he sipped his coffee.

Unfortunately every minute he waited constituted another minute that the unsub could use to hide, escape—or take another victim.

“Why would someone hurt our son?” Mrs. Stowe said in an anguished voice. “And why leave him naked and beaten like that?”

Senator Stowe squeezed her hand, but his penetrating gaze stabbed Nick. “Was that the way the other men were left?”

“Yes and no,” Nick said. “But before we talk, you have to agree not to repeat anything we discuss in private.”

“Trust me, Brenda Banks is not getting a word out of us,” Senator Stowe said.

“I’m not referring to Brenda. I’m talking about your staff, friends, business acquaintances, and the media.” Nick folded his hands on the table. “The police have withheld details of the other crimes to enable us to solidify a case when we catch this perpetrator. And trust me,” he said in a tone that brooked no argument, “we will catch her.”

“You think a woman did this?” Mrs. Stowe said, her eyes widening in shock. “How? Why?”

Nick inhaled. “The sexual nature suggests a female killer. The MO of the stranglings are the same. The unsub used piano wire to choke the men.”

Mrs. Stowe shuddered.

“But there are some differences. Victim one was left in a hotel room. The second man in the woods at Blindman’s Curve.” He omitted the gruesome details. “Victim one worked for a company called Stark Security. We’re not sure if the second victim was connected to it, though.” He studied the senator’s face. “Do you know anything about Stark Security?”

The senator shook his head. “No, should I?”

Nick shrugged. “We’re just trying to piece everything together and looking for connections.” He waited, but neither of the Stowes elaborated. “For instance, the other two men served in the military. Did your son?”

“No,” Mrs. Stowe said. “Ron attended Yale, where he earned a business degree.”

“What the hell would the military have to do with anything?” Senator Stowe asked.

“I’m not sure yet,” Nick said. “Like I said, we’re looking for connections that might indicate how and why this woman targets her victims.”

Mrs. Stowe jerked her head up. “You think she knew our son?”

“I don’t know that either. Why don’t you tell me about Ron.”

“He was a good boy,” Mrs. Stowe said, wiping at her tears.

“He was smart and educated,” Senator Stowe said, his tone defensive, as if he sensed Nick was digging for dirt.

“What about enemies? Did he have any?”

“Everyone loved our son,” Mrs. Stowe said.

Nick aimed an inquisitive look toward the senator. “What about you? Any enemies?”

The senator’s nostrils flared. “All politicians have enemies, but none that would kill my son to get back at me.”

Nick wasn’t convinced. “What about threats?” Nick asked. “Any specific e-mails or mail that stuck out?”

They both shook their heads.

“We’ll need to look at all of your correspondence, as well as your son’s, including phone calls, e-mails, texts,” Nick said. “And I’ll need access to your son’s computer.”

“What good will sifting through his life do?” Senator Stowe asked, his voice strained.

“If we see commonalities with the other victims, maybe we can narrow down our search.”

The senator glared at Nick. “It sounds to me like you’re going to make this about Ron’s personal life.”

“My intentions aren’t to malign your son or your reputation,” Nick said. “But it’s imperative we study his actions to find his killer.”

The senator started to protest again, but his wife laid her hand over his and cut him off. “All right,” Mrs. Stowe said. “Whatever you need, do it.”

“Was your son dating anyone?” Nick asked.

Mrs. Stowe shrugged, but the senator gave a noncommittal reply. “He’s a single man. He dates.”

“Has he mentioned anyone specifically?”

“No.” Mrs. Stowe sipped her coffee. “In fact, he dates around, but I thought it would be nice if he settled down. I’m friends with Agnes Banks, so she set him up with her daughter.”

Nick forced himself to breathe. Had Brenda been interested? “And?”

“They seemed to get along, but apparently he asked her to attend the fund-raiser last night, and she turned him down. He could have asked someone else later. I don’t know.”

Nick nodded. “Maybe we’ll find something in his computer or phone to tell us where he was last night.”

The senator folded his fists on the table. “Men have needs. If you print anything about what you find out, I’ll sue you, the TBI, and the police department.”

That pissed Nick off. “If you want me to find out who killed your son, I will have to dig into his life. And if it gets dirty, Senator, you’ll just have to live with it.”

“But—”

“Instead of blaming Brenda Banks, look at your own past. It’s possible that the killer may have murdered your son to exact revenge against you.”

Brenda felt helpless as she watched Jake and the crime techs work the crime scene. Two techs, having combed the trash cans outside, were heading inside to see if the killer had discarded Ron’s clothing or phone on the premises.

She doubted it. Seven had probably killed Ron at another location, then brought his body here.

The shock should be wearing off, but seeing the man she’d met at her parents’ house murdered in such a vile manner stirred rage at the killer, who’d sent her texts as if they were playing a game.

She reminded herself that Seven was a victim as well, that the abuse she’d endured as a subject of a diabolical experiment had altered her behavior and emotions and turned her into a sociopath.

But whatever the cause, she was still a dangerous psychopath, and she needed to be stopped. She was taking lives, cruelly and without remorse.

The bottom line—Ron Stowe didn’t deserve the brutal beating and degradation she’d inflicted on him.