Twisted Reason (17 page)

“Who was here with you, Mrs. Jones?”

“Nobody.”

“Nobody?”

“I was here by myself.”

“Then who ran through the house when I came in? Who drove off in the pick-up truck and scraped my car?”

Susan cocked her head to the side and said, “What are you talking about?”

“Ma’am. I know someone was here. I suspect it was your son.”

“I was here, fixing supper, all by my lonesome. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mrs. Jones, this is senseless. I know you were not here alone. I know you didn’t just run into the wall.”

“I don’t think you were here when that happened. Did you see the plate break?”

“Look at that plate, Mrs. Jones. Look at it! It is shattered. And you expect me to believe, you just bumped into the wall.”

“I bumped kinda hard.”

“What the hell were you doing, then? Running as fast as you could and plowing into the wall at top speed?”

“Of course not, silly. I just ran into the wall. People run into the wall all the time.”

Lucinda crouched down beside her. “What’s this, Mrs. Jones? You have a split along your cheek line?”

“I got beat up by this doctor. You wouldn’t believe—”

“This cut is more recent. As are these fingerprint marks on the upper part of your arm.”

“I’m telling you that doctor beat me up.”

“Why? Why did a doctor beat you up?”

“It was unbelievable. He was mad because we were crossing his parking lot.”

“That makes no sense.”

“I know. I had a doctor’s appointment—”

“With Dr. Spencer?”

“Oh, no, with Dr. Cohle in the next building. But that parking lot was full. So we left the truck a block up the street. So we were just cutting across that parking lot when that Dr. Spencer came out and went all nuts on us.”

“You didn’t just get all clumsy and run into the dumpster,” Lucinda said, not being able to contain herself even though she knew her sarcasm was a total waste.

“No. Now that’s ridiculous. That doctor beat me up and he’s going to pay.”

“Pay? You mean like money?”

“Yeah, lots of money.”

“You filed criminal charges, Mrs. Jones. The criminal court does not award monetary damages.”

“They don’t?”

Lucinda shook her head.

“But, Cal told me . . .” she said then sealed her lips tight.

“What did Cal tell you?”

Susan pinched her lips tighter.

“Mrs. Jones, do you know you can be arrested for false charges?”

Her eyes widened but still she did not speak.

“And as soon as we find Cal, he’ll be arrested, too.”

“Why are you arresting Cal?”

“You have a broken arm, Mrs. Jones. The abuse is obvious. And it is illegal.”

“I told you I just ran into the wall. You can’t arrest Cal because I’m clumsy. And besides, no matter what you say, I’m not pressing charges against my son.”

“Under law, Mrs. Jones, you don’t need to do a thing. I would prefer if you would file charges and testify against the man who has broken your arm and probably brutalized you for years, but it’s not necessary. In cases of domestic violence, the courts can act to protect you with or without your consent.”

Susan blinked and a tear trickled down her face.

“C’mon, you can tell me what happened,” Lucinda urged.

Susan’s lower lip quivered. “Nothing happened. I ran into the wall.”

Lucinda exhaled loudly and rose. “The ambulance will be here soon,” she said. She clenched her jaw with frustration. Cases like this one drove her nuts. She had an urge to grab Susan and shake some sense into her but she knew it would do no good. She could only hope that the county would take the charges seriously and Susan would have enough time away from the bastard to come to her senses on her own.

Lucinda was standing by the front door watching for the arrival of the ambulance when her cell phone rang. “Pierce.”

“It’s Jumbo, Lieutenant. Found the names of all his children. Called their phone numbers. Two were disconnected. One was answered by a wife, Mrs. Donald Blankenship—Charlotte Blankenship. She said she filed a missing persons report for her husband nearly two years ago – and, yes, I checked and she did.

“She thought that was why I was calling her. But she told me where her in-laws worked and her husband’s brother Derek, sister Donna, and father Gary have not been seen at their places of employment for about the same amount of time Charlotte’s husband’s been missing.”

“What about their spouses?”

“She said that she never knew her mother-in-law. Family told her Mom ran off with a man she met in a bar when the kids were little – haven’t had a chance to follow up on that yet. And neither sibling was married. Well, her sister-in-law had been for a few months – a real nice guy according to Charlotte – but Donna walked out on him. ‘Just like her worthless mother,’ Charlotte said.”

Twenty-Six

As soon as the ambulance pulled away with Susan Jones, Lucinda followed it down the gravel drive and out to the highway. Her mind buzzed with the things she needed to do and the problems that needed solutions.

She thought she’d gotten Evan Spencer off the hook on the false charges filed against him but she’d have to find time to talk to the DA. She knew he’d be long gone by the time she got to the office; he was probably already home by now.
But where is this case going? Is the Blankenship clan connected to Joan Culpepper’s missing mother, to the death of Edgar Humphries and the bodies of Francis DeLong and Adele Kendlesohn who turned up in that pond?

What about Rachael Kendlesohn? Something about that woman isn’t right. Is she simply a self-centered bitch or is it something more sinister? I’d like her to be responsible. I’d enjoy slapping cuffs on her wrists. But what if she is involved but only responsible for what happened to her mother-in-law? What if none of these cases are connected? Rachael’s mother-in law and Francis DeLong have to be connected. There’s no way they would both be found in the same remote spot otherwise.

Could there be a conspiracy between Rachael Kendlesohn and DeLong’s son-in-law Mark McFaden? Mark was very solicitous of his wife but what if that was an act, a cover-up of a crime? If he and Rachael acted together, then those two deaths wouldn’t be connected to the attempted abduction of Juliet Szykely, the death of Edgar Humphries or the disappearance of Joan Culpepper’s mother. But does that make sense?

Maybe there really are two scenarios here: the McFaden-Kendlesohn conspiracy and the other three cases that are all tied to Dorothy Jenkins. Her name popped up again this morning. But why? What motive could Dorothy Jenkins possibly have? She took care of one of them, met another one and only had a telephone conversation with a family member of the third.

 Doesn’t River’s Edge make more sense? Yes. That facility is connected to all five. I wonder how Ted is progressing with those background checks.

I need to be careful. I can’t get so caught up in the most recent suspects to forget about all the others. I can’t afford tunnel vision. Everything has to be considered. Everyone explained. No possibility ignored, no matter how improbable. It seems impossible to follow all these threads at once, but I have to do it. Someone else might be abducted. Someone else might die.

Lucinda pulled into the parking lot of the Justice Center with no memory of the drive. She’d navigated on instinct, lost in her thoughts about the case. The realization hit her as she stepped out of her car and made her more than a little anxious.

She ran up the two flights of stairs and strode straight to Ted’s office. “Background checks. Anything interesting?”

“Not yet,” Ted said, “but we’re—”

“Search warrant?”

“Two, three minutes more, it’ll be ready for the judge.”

“Butler?”

“Sergeant Butler? What about him?”

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know. He might be in Research, might be in his office. But he left a note on your desk.”

“Thanks,” she said, spun on her heels and walked out.

Ted stepped into the hallway. “Lucinda . . .?”

“Later, Ted. Bring me the warrant request when you print it out.”

Lucinda picked Jumbo’s note off of her desk and read: “Got Research looking for information about Charlotte’s mother-in-law. Plan to make phone calls on anything they turn up. I’ll call if I need to pay anyone a visit. Jumbo”

Lucinda forced all thoughts out of her mind but the warrant. She had to get it. She reviewed the arguments she would make to the judge as she waited for Ted. True to his word, he popped in minutes later.

“Here you go,” he said. “Judge Glass is still in his chambers working late reviewing appeals documents.”

“Judge might have a question for you – are you coming with me?”

“Anything, any time, Lucinda.”

As they walked down the stairs, Ted said, “Actually, Lucinda, what I said wasn’t exactly true.”

“What? What’s not true?”

“I won’t be able to do anything, any time for much longer. I’ve decided to take the job up in Charlottesville.”

“Really?”

“Yes. But I haven’t given notice yet so if you could keep quiet about it . . .”

“No problem, Ted. In fact, right now, I don’t have the brain space to even think about it.”

Everything went smoothly with the judge – the warrant was signed; now it needed to be delivered. Lucinda called Marguerite Spellman’s cell phone. “Marguerite, are you in the building?”

“No, Lieutenant. I’m at home. But that’s not a problem. What do you need?”

“I’ve got a search warrant. I need the place scoured for any biological evidence that any one of four different people ever spent any time in there. And if there are any signs of anything suspicious.”

“Do we need a document specialist?”

“Wouldn’t hurt. I’m bringing Butler from Missing Persons with me but depending on how much paper is there, it would be helpful to have another pair of eyes.”

“You got it. Anything else I need to know.”

“There’s no electricity and no running water.”

“I’ll pack the truck accordingly, Lieutenant. Should be able to be on the scene in an hour and fifteen minutes – or maybe less.”

Next, Lucinda called Jumbo. “I’ve got a search warrant for the Blankenship place and the crime scene techs are gearing up to meet us at the house. I’m assuming you want to be there.”

“You better believe it.”

“Did you find anything about the woman of the household?”

“Yeah, but not much. Charlotte’s mother-in-law is Sadie Blankenship – been missing for twenty years. Her youngest son, Derek, was barely a year old at the time. Gary did tell everyone she ran off with another man but I found two of Sadie’s old friends. They said they didn’t know that Sadie had a boyfriend and never knew her to hang out in bars. They also said they hadn’t heard from her since – and one of the women was still finding that hard to believe.”

“Any evidence Sadie is still alive?”

“We share the same suspicious thoughts, Lieutenant. I’ve been looking into that. Sadie didn’t renew her Virginia driver’s license so I put out a bulletin to all the states with her married name and maiden name to see if she got a new one. No record of her having any credit cards in her name – one of her friends said that Gary wouldn’t have allowed that. Said Sadie didn’t even have a checkbook, or access to the bank account. Only money she ever had was the cash she got from Gary.”

“Hopefully, somebody will turn up something. But this just isn’t looking very good.”

“No, it isn’t,” Jumbo said. “Are we ready to roll?”

“Meet you in the parking lot in five. Maybe that house will be hiding something that will lead us to Sadie.”

Twenty-Seven

Before leaving the Justice Center, Lucinda called Dispatch and arranged for uniformed back-up. Two patrol cars sat in front of the row house when Lucinda and Jumbo pulled to the curb. Four officers stood on the sidewalk, one holding a small two-man ram to breach the front door.

“We don’t think anyone is inside, but don’t let your guard down – we could be wrong,” Lucinda said and headed up the stairs. She rang the bell, pounded on the door, shouted “Police” and made multiple requests to open the door. When that failed, as she thought it would, she stepped off the porch to give the men room to batter the door. Two swings of the ram and they had access to the home.

Lucinda’s nose twitched in the musty, stale air. She noted some slightly sour odor provided an undertone. She was relieved when she wasn’t assaulted by the stench of decomposition.

Six flashlights pierced the darkness, the air so full of dust that the beacons looked like solid objects. The detectives and officers moved with caution through every room, checking closets, under furniture, anywhere a person could hide. Lucinda and Jumbo took the first floor. Two officers walked crablike up the stairs checking out that level as well as the attic crawl space. The two others went into the basement where they explored a finished family room, bathroom, laundry room and a large dank storage area with bare concrete block walls. The only sign of life were roaches scurrying back into the cover of darkness.