Mindfield (Sideways Eight Book 1) (15 page)

Chapter 16

Pretty in Pink

Great Falls, VA – Heritage Hall Estates

Tuesday, 26 April - 11:17 AM

After a thirty-minute drive, Murphy pressed on the brake as they approached the entrance to Heritage Hall Estates on Antiquity Drive. Reporters lined the street. As he eased towards the guards, the crowd of press operators shouted Charley’s name as they clambered begging for an interview.

“Ignore them,” Charley said.

“Char, why do they do this every time?”

She peered out the passenger window. “My two major failures. They don’t want to hear about my successes.”

They presented their IDs to the police officers posted on each side of the truck who waved them through without incident.

As they approached the crime scene at the intersection of Antiquity and Legacy Drive, Murphy parked at the corner several yards away from the scene.

They left the truck and strode towards the yellow tape. Murphy stopped and removed his FBI windbreaker. “Too warm for a jacket. I’ll leave it in the truck.”

Charley held out her hand for the coat.

She backtracked to his truck and opened the rear passenger door to find a pair of women’s black heels toppled on the floorboard. Charley blathered a sigh, tossed the jacket onto the rear bench, and slammed the door. She returned to him with a mixture of disappointment and an odd sensation she refused to name.

They stood in the middle of the intersection, facing Heirloom Circle. A short distance away at Heritage Hall Community Park, Carmichael stood with slumped shoulders next to the little girl’s body. He summoned them with his index finger. “You two, get your gear on and come over here.”

Charley and Murphy stopped by the mobile lab, grabbed disposable protective clothing, and dressed as they trekked towards him. They stopped at Olivia’s body and dropped to their knees.

Carmichael removed the white linen sheet covering the victim. “Dumped yards from her home. What a nice fucking asshole?” He slung his arm in the air. “What if her mom found her? Her mom, people. This piece of garbage is diabolical.” Carmichael’s face reddened as he huffed. Charley wrapped her hands around his. He gritted his teeth and calmed. “Let’s continue.”

They each took their places, Charley and Carmichael on each side of the body, while Murphy shifted to the head. The three inspected the victim with care and precision.

Nine white candles encircled the body. Charley removed them one at a time, took a whiff, each were patchouli. With care, she placed them into individual evidence bags and gave them to Carmichael to put into a sealable plastic tote.

The dress differed from the one worn by Robin. Gathered at the waist, the pink cotton ensemble had a white pilgrim’s collar. The style reminiscent of the eighties, they discovered stressed seams along the bodice. Her feet covered with pink socks and white shoes with pink silk ribbon laces.

To determine the time of death, Carmichael used the thermometer and calculated she had been dead approximately nine hours. A quick glance at his watch, he concluded she died around midnight. After rolling the body onto its side, it revealed the bow was tied the same, and the zipper unzipped.

Murphy discovered the killer provided a handcrafted pillow instead of using leaves. Clasped in her hair above her ear a yellow, velvet bow identical to the one found in Robin’s hair. Murphy searched the victim’s radius. Confusion in his voice, he said, “No, flowers?”

Carmichael produced a clear evidence bag containing two flowers.

“Those are anemones not marigolds. Greek for daughter of the wind, their meaning is forsaken,” Charley said. “They’re planted in the fall to flower in spring. The killer planned everything which is malice aforethought. He has a selection process.”

“Is it possible, he owns a greenhouse, or has one in the backyard? He may work for a nursery.” Murphy said while Carmichael put the flowers back in the tote.

“Marigolds aren’t blooming this time of year,” she said.

“Hey, guys,” Doobie yelled. “I have some information.”

They turned around and acknowledged his arrival.

“Doobie, a lot of similarities to Robin,” Charley said.

“What information?” Murphy said.

“Two county engineers surveying for new water mains found her,” Doobie said.

“Where are they?” Charley said.

“They’re at the command center. From what Fleming told me, they were stressed,” Doobie said.

Charley leaned closer. Her eyes fixed on the victim’s neck. “Doc, no strangulation marks.”

“I know, Charley,” Carmichael said.

She waved her finger toward the victim. “This isn’t right. The murder method is different.”

“I’ll find out when I do a full examination and carry out tests at the lab.”

Fleming approached. “Doc, you ready to load her?”

Carmichael acknowledged Fleming. “Morgue.”

“I’ll grab a body bag.”

“Thanks,” Carmichael said as Fleming trotted towards the mobile crime lab.

“We have one thing,” Doobie said, viewing the body.

“What?” Charley straightened her shoulders.

“A surveyor, Dillon Patowski, said a man,” Doobie waved his finger toward the other side of the street, “was standing by the manhole.”

Charley stood. “And?”

Murphy rose to his feet to give room for Carmichael and Fleming to extract the body.

“Dillon said the man had dark hair to his shoulders, slight build, and wearing sunglasses with lime-green ear pieces.” Doobie loosened his necktie. “Dillon turned around to alert his coworker. When he looked back the man was gone.”

“This Dillon person was he too far away to give us a detailed description,” Charley said.

Doobie clicked his mouth. “Sorry.”

“Where would he go?” Murphy said.

“There are two ways to exit the neighborhood, scale the wall, or out the main entrance.”

“Or he’s hiding,” Charley snapped. “Are we looking for him?”

“Oh, yes. We are. Half the locals are searching the area.”

“Good. What was he wearing?”

Doobie cleared his throat. “White utility coveralls.”

Murphy raised his hand. “Wait, you said he was near the manhole. Is it possible he escaped through there?”

Doobie scratched the side of his head. “I’m ahead of you Murph. Sanitation employees, and officers are in the sewer searching.”

“It’s him.” She paced hard and fast as she rubbed her cheeks. “Justin Wilkerson saw him.” She slung her hands into the air. “Who is he?”

“What time was this?” Murphy said.

“Seven-thirty,” Doobie said.

“Close to the time Justin saw him at the pool.” Charley stepped off to the side, away from everyone. She absorbed the panorama of the neighborhood, taking in all the points. “There’s one way in by vehicle, the entrance. On foot, one would have to climb the eight-foot brick wall. Now the sewer.”

Murphy stepped over to her. As much as he tried to gain eye contact with her, she refused. “Char?”

Her bland tone lowered as her eyes shifted in the opposite direction. “He’s evolving, finding easier, more efficient ways to kill. My guess, it was painless. Poison comes to mind.” Her arms wrapped around her abdomen as she shuffled her left foot, digging for signs the dormant grass would soon spring to life. “Watching Robin die a slow painful death was too much for him.”

Murphy moved in front of her, his hands in his pockets. He stooped, tilting his head to one side. “Char?”

“Olivia left this world without experiencing the love of a father.” She turned away from him.

Concerned he hadn’t seen her distant and evasive behavior since their ceasefire, he stepped behind her, placing his hand on her shoulder. “Char?”

“No footprints, the grass is undisturbed.” She shuffled away. “What do we know so far?”

“Robin’s dress was blue, her favorite color. Olivia’s dress is pink, same as her room. Maybe he talked to the girls, to gain information. Their likes, dislikes before he abducted them. He engaged them, gaining their trust.”

“I won’t argue with that theory. What did they talk about, it had to be interesting,” Charley said as she directed her attention to Carmichael. “Ansel, Olivia was hyperglycemic, without her insulin she would have died. Is it possible he didn’t know she had health issues and didn’t die by his hand?”

Carmichael slid his eyeglasses to the bridge of his nose. “Possible, no visible marks on the body. I’ll scan for needle marks. Don’t worry, I’ll narrow it down.”

Her distant gaze and unresponsive manner stymied every attempt Murphy made to gain Charley’s attention. “They’re close in age and female.”

“It will not stop here.” She scanned the street layout. “This is just the beginning.”

“Charley, Murphy, I’ll have more tomorrow. Drop by the morgue late afternoon,” Carmichael said.

“We’ll be there,” Murphy said. “We’re headed out.”

“Later,” Carmichael said as he and Fleming placed Olivia in a body bag.

Charley stepped away from the crime scene and stood in the middle of the intersection of Antiquity and Legacy Drive. Her eyebrows drawn, she turned around in circles.

Murphy followed. “Char, what are you doing?”

Her eyes closed, she continued to turn in circles, tapping above the bridge of her nose with her index and middle finger. “There’s something odd about the neighborhood design.”

Murphy scrutinized the area. “What? If you don’t stop Char, you’ll get dizzy.”

Charley stopped, removed her tablet from her pocket, unaffected by her continuous spin. She opened the map app and entered the address. “I knew something was weird.” She showed it to Murphy. The streets formed a cross with a loop at the top. “The housing development is an ankh.”

Murphy slid his hands into his pockets. “Right, the Egyptians. The breath of life. The park is on the inside of the ankh. He placed Olivia in the center of life.”

“Center… as in Robin Senters. Is he associating the two girls by their surnames?”

“Good question.” Murphy rubbed her shoulder. “We should go.”

∞ ∞ ∞

Charley remained silent on the drive back to her home, staring out the passenger window. Murphy attempted to engage her. Nothing worked.

Stopped at a traffic light, he glanced at her. “I almost forgot.” He stretched his arm over the backseat. “Dammit, Mom left her shoes in the truck.”

Charley smiled. “Your mom?”

“Last night, we went shopping and out to dinner. She bought a new pair of shoes and wore them. I’ll drop them off tonight on my way home.”

“I do that too.” She grinned. “Are you a momma’s boy?”

Murphy glared. “Why is it, when a man spends time with his mom, he’s labeled a wimp?”

“Sean, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean… I’m just…” She diverted her eyes. “Envious.”

Charley choked back a lump lodged in her throat.

Murphy laid his hand on hers. “Hey, it’s okay.”

She shook her head. “No worries.”

“You should meet my parents.”

Charley shook her head.

He fondled her fingers and caressed the top of her hand, clearing his throat. “While at the mall I bought something for us.” He grabbed a CD from a shopping bag on the back seat. He handed it to her.

She read the information on the CD. “E. S. Posthumus. The ‘Unearthed’ album. Love it.”

“I remember you saying they’re one of your favorites. Pop it in the player.”

Charley removed the packaging, using her D2 knife. She slid the disk into the tray, smiled at him, and rubbed his upper arm. “Thanks, Sean, I needed that.”

Chapter 17

Fix Me a Sammich

Lorton, VA - Faraday Farms

Tuesday - 26 April - 3:03 PM

After a quiet ride from the crime scene in Great Falls to Charley’s home, they entered the kitchen. Murphy’s stomach growled. “Char, I’m hungry. How about you?”

“Sure.”

“Let’s make lunch.”

“Sounds great.” Charley tossed her holstered Sig Sauer P-226 and D2 knife on the counter. “What are you in the mood for?”

With a beckoning grin, he flicked his eyebrows, peeled his holster from his shoulder. Murphy grabbed hers from the counter and placed them on a hook inside the pantry door.

Charley sighed, awaiting his answer. “Sean?”

Murphy stammered. “Uh… mmm… a sandwich, salad, fruit, and a huge glass of milk.”

“I’m not making you a sammich.”

Murphy laughed. “Then I’ll make us a sammich.”

She smiled. “That’ll work.”

At the refrigerator, Murphy glanced over his shoulder. “Catch.” He tossed romaine lettuce and tomatoes to her.

She laughed, catching them.

“Here, these too,” Murphy called as she placed the lettuce onto the kitchen island. He lobbed a cucumber, followed by a bag of carrots, and a package of shredded cheddar cheese. Charley grabbed at the airborne food, unable to keep up, all but the cucumber found the floor.

Charley covered her mouth, laughing so hard her body shook. “Guess I should sign-up for vegetable catching class.”

Murphy chuckled, helping her put the items on the counter.

She opened the drawer for a knife and slid the cutting board towards the counter’s edge.

Murphy dumped the food onto the counter. His expression now serious, he said, “Let’s talks business while we do this. We have another dead child. Tell me about the killer.”

“He’s crafty.” Charley moved from the island to the counter behind them. “He took both girls, leaving behind meager evidence. Conscientious, he blends into his environment and he appears nonthreatening.”

Murphy opened the louvered corner utility cabinet checking the bread options. “What kinda bread you want?”

“Whole wheat.”

“Rye for me. No. Sourdough. So, he’s an average guy.”

From behind him, she grunted. He turned on his heel. Her knees balanced on the counter, Charley stretched an arm to the top shelf of the cabinet. With the tip of her fingers, she attempted to topple a plastic container.

He tossed the bread onto the kitchen island. “Charley, what are you doing?”

“I’m getting a bowl for the salad.”

“Geezus, Char, I’m six-two, ask.” He gripped her waist with both hands, lifted her fron the countertop onto the floor. Without removing his right hand from her waist, he shifted her to his right side. He grasp the container with his left hand and gave it to her.

Charley stared at the bowl and glanced at him. He smiled, with his trademark lip curl. She caught herself before touching his mouth. “Thanks.” She whipped around, placing the container behind the cutting board. Charley sighed, regaining her composure. “He’s not the stereotypical child thief with a windowless van. He drives an ordinary, unassuming vehicle.” She held up four fingers. “A standard sedan.”

“What color is it?” He grinned.

She laughed and picked up the knife. “I’m not that good.”

“What else?”

“He’s educated and… possibly has a job with responsibility.” She cut the romaine lettuce and dropped it into the bowl. “I understand you believe he’s white-collar, but I think he’s blue-collar. He’s likable and unpretentious. Sometimes, one can’t tell he’s in the room.”

“An ordinary man wakes up one morning, and he goes from regular guy to a child killer?” Murphy continued to prepare two mammoth pastrami and beef sandwiches.

“Something made him snap, a psychotic break. Committing these crimes never occurred to him in the past.” She sliced the cucumbers. “He’s mentally unstable, but not a psychopath. Sociopathic tendencies with a touch of borderline personality disorder.” She dumped the cucumbers onto the lettuce. “Couple that with major depression and there you have someone who has been brewing for a while, possibly years. Then, one day.” She fluttered her hands, still grasping the knife.

Murphy shuffled away. “Whoa, Char, be careful with that thing.”

“Sorry. The butterfly flaps its wings.”

“Butterfly?” He crinkled his brows while spreading mayonnaise on the bread.

She pointed at the half made sandwiches. “A little more mayo for me. Anyway, the chaos theory, the butterfly in Costa Rica flapped its wings, causing the hurricane in the Gulf.”

He separated more deli slices and placed a few on the mayonnaise. “The ripple effect.”

“One thing leads to another. An innocuous event causes disorder.” Sprinkling shredded carrots onto the salad, she glanced at him. “Now we must figure out his pattern.”

“First Reston, then Great Falls. That’s about eight miles apart.” He ripped the romaine lettuce and placed them over the pastrami. “Twenty minutes of travel. Robin at the school in the evening, Olivia after leaving the school bus.”

“There’s the cool down time. He waited forty-three days between abductions. Both during the week and late afternoon and evening.” Charley grabbed a tomato, diced it, and tossed the pieces into the vegetable mixture. “Maybe his work hours are from seven in the morning to three in the afternoon, or he works in the evenings and is on the road.”

“Traffic is heavy during that time of the afternoon. My guess is he didn’t take the main roads, or the obvious route.” Murphy placed slices of Swiss cheese on the romaine. “Just guessing, but I put him living in Vienna or Chantilly. He may work at Dulles. Could explain the hours of the day. He works alternating shifts from week to week.”

Charley dusted cheddar cheese over the salad. “Here’s an idea. He didn’t hurt them during captivity, not until he killed them. Olivia was, or we assume, nabbed on the street she lived.” She paused. “After leaving the bus and a school activity after hours. How did he know Robin was at play rehearsal and what bus Olivia rode? Two different schools and he knew the bus route and play rehearsal time… no way.” She placed the lid on the container and mixed the salad. “Someone associated with the school system knows something.”

Murphy grabbed the knife and sliced the tomatoes. “It’s time to chat with the school superintendent.”

“I’ll suggest to Doobie to send the investigators to dig further.” Charley glided to the fridge and removed a bowl of fresh fruit.

“How about, he works in the medical or pharmaceutical community?” Murphy placed the final slice of bread on the sandwiches. “Olivia required insulin. If he gave it to her, how would he get it? It’s a prescription.”

Charley plopped the container of mixed fruit on the counter. “That doesn’t explain how he knows their school activities.”

He went to the cabinet behind them to retrieve two plates. “True.” Back at the counter, he placed the sandwiches on the plate. “When do you think he’ll strike again?”

“The killer is a stickler for details. The next abduction will happen mid-May if we don’t find him first.” She grabbed a spoon from the drawer before she opened the fruit bowl lid. “He’s not quite using a cycle, but so far we have Robin nabbed the first of March and Olivia the thirteenth of April. The dumping dates, Tuesday, the fifteenth of March and Tuesday, the twenty-sixth of April both after mid-afternoon and evening and discovered early morning.”

“Both found on a Tuesday.” Murphy removed two glasses from the cabinet and stopped by the refrigerator for milk. “So we’ve established he has a clock, or time pattern, not necessarily the date.” He poured the milk into the glasses. “Robin died around one thirty in the morning, Olivia at midnight.”

“The time frame may be his witching hour. Something sets him off.” On the other side of the kitchen, Charley grabbed two bowls for the salad. As she stepped closer to the island, she gasped. “The moon, he’s adjusting to the moon, a crescent moon.”

“Now there’s an idea. What are parents supposed to do, not send their children to school during this phase of the cycle? Send out a message, girls can’t attend class, but boys can?” He carried the glasses of milk to the table.

“The school system increased security, including active duty police officers working overtime at the schools at night.”

Murphy placed the milk on the table and returned for the plates. “They’re anticipating another abduction at the school?”

“My opinion, the next one will happen nowhere near a school. He’s advancing, smarter, cleaner, and shrewder.” The salad bowls full; she placed fresh fruit on each plate. “He’ll hit publicly, in a populated area with lots of activity.”

“How did you come to that conclusion?”

“I’m not sure. It’s a gut feeling, though I’m confident he’ll strike again. He’ll want to make a major statement with the third victim.”

Murphy opened several drawers for the utensils. He placed a knife and fork on the plates. She scampered around him with the lunch plates in her hand as she nodded for him to follow. He snatched the salad bowls and followed her to the kitchen nook. “He kept Robin one day longer than Olivia. Fourteen days versus thirteen days. Why?”

After he placed the salad bowls on the table, he scooted the chair back for her, she said, “One day may not seem significant to us, but to them it’s major. One day is the difference between accomplishment and failure. One day less, convinced him he is thriving. In his mind, he’s setting a standard, making a statement. With Olivia he felt more secure, confident.”

Murphy took his seat next to her. “I’m outta ideas.”

“Happens in cases such as these.” She took her first bite. “Oh. My. Gawd. This is the best sandwich ever. It’s yummylicious.”

He grinned as she chewed with a satisfied expression. Murphy placed his thumb on the corner of her mouth. “You… gotta… little mayo.” He removed the dab of sauce and licked it from his thumb.

Charley blushed. “Thanks.” She sunk her teeth into the sandwich again, her face beaming with delight. She pointed at the bread, nudging him. “You da’ man.”