Already Lured, page 16
***
Laura folded her arms and leaned back in the chair, looking across the table at Jardine. Beside her, Nate was equally quiet and serious.
“So,” Laura said. “Tell me about the book.”
Jardine scoffed. “Waste of time!” he said.
“We’ll be the judge of whether it’s worth talking about,” Laura said.
“No,” Jardine replied. “I mean, writing the book was a waste of time. I never earned out my advance, and I’d already spent all of that on the interviews and research and all the time it took. Sent myself in circles getting it edited and polished. And after all that, it goes out of print before I even earn another cent.”
“It’s out of print?” Laura raised an eyebrow. “That must have been very frustrating.”
“Yes,” Jardine declared. “I wanted to throw it out of a window.”
“You didn’t, though,” Laura pointed out. She tapped the cover of the book they had taken from beside his bed. “You kept it in prime position. Almost like a shrine to it.”
“It’s my work,” he said, almost pompously, trying to fold his own arms and being stopped by a jingle of his cuffs. “Of course, I couldn’t throw it away.”
Laura held back the urge to point out that he’d been the one to bring up throwing it in the first place. She had the feeling that if she insisted on arguing logic with this particular suspect, she wasn’t going to get anywhere.
“The interviews,” Nate prompted. “You conducted three in particular we want to talk about.”
“Which three?” Jardine asked, raising his eyebrows.
“The three who died recently,” Laura said, leaving him enough of a hint to hang himself with. She wanted to know if he was going to mention the last name. Brooke and Jessika had been all over the news, and besides they’d given him the information already. But there was one more victim whose name Laura had seen in the book as she skimmed through the contents page: Haydn Townsend. And if Jardine brought up Townsend, then the game was up, because right now it was only the killer, the cops, and the family who knew he was dead.
“Brooke Ware,” Jardine said. “Jessika Granger. And Herbie Warrington.”
Laura blinked. “Herbie Warrington?” Her mind started to run overdrive. Had they missed a victim?
“Terribly sad,” Jardine shrugged. “Heart attack. It can come for any of us, you know.”
Laura squinted at him. Was he trying to play with them? Or did he really not realize they weren’t talking about this heart attack victim? The fact that he hadn’t given the right name wasn’t proof in either direction; if he was the killer, he would have more than enough reason to try to mislead them.
“What about the interviews?” Laura prompted, trying to keep things on track. “Let’s start with Brooke Ware.”
“Oh, she was terribly sad,” Jardne said. It was like he’d picked up the phrase ‘terribly sad’ and now didn’t want to put it down. “Such a hard experience for such a young girl. She was only a young teen when it happened. I really felt for her. And she’s pretty, too, so that helped with a few sales – we put her photo in with the press release.”
Laura blinked at him again. She felt like she was getting whiplash with this guy. It was like he was paying lip service to the way he was supposed to react – to compassion, sadness, grief – but then revealing what he really thought in the same breath. Didn’t he have any kind of filter?
“She was murdered,” Laura said, trying to bring the conversation to a place they could use. “And we believe she was murdered because of the interview she gave in your book.”
Jardine looked at her with a puzzled expression. “Why would someone do that?”
“Well, one theory is that the killer is targeting people who had near death experiences,” Laura said.
“That makes sense,” Jardine nodded sagely, even though everyone sitting at that table must have been able to understand that it didn’t. Not really. It was the kind of twisted logic that a killer would have.
“There’s just one thing,” Nate said, clearly ready to drop a revelation and see how Jardine reacted. “She never had a near death experience.”
Jardine frowned, opened his mouth, then closed it again. Laura analyzed every twitch of his facial muscles, every micro-movement. Was that guilt? Nervousness that he had struck the wrong victim? Or just pure confusion?
“Yes, she did,” he said, finally. “I wrote about it.”
“No, she lied to you,” Nate said. The blunt words were designed to strike home, to get a reaction out of him. Anger or distress or whatever it might be. “She made the whole thing up. She never had a near death experience at all.”
There was a long pause in which Jardine continued to only frown.
“Do you think that’s why the sales weren’t very good?” he asked at last.
Laura looked at Nate. She had to. She didn’t get where this guy was coming from. She opened his file, tapping something on the first page. “Mr. Jardine, your records show that you have been diagnosed with a number of complex mental conditions,” she said. “Can I ask how you’re coping with those?”
Jardine made a kind of shrugging gesture. “I just keep to myself,” he said.
Laura cocked her head to the side. “What about your medication?”
“Couldn’t afford it.” Jardine’s fingers twitched together as if he were pointing with two of them, and his demeanor changed to a more cheerful one as if a switch had been flicked. “Hey, could I get a cigarette?”
“You can have a smoking break if you answer our questions fully,” Nate said. “Do you have them on you?”
“Cigarettes? Oh no, I don’t smoke,” Jardine said, shrugging and letting his fingers fall slack again. “I just thought it might be fun. It feels right, doesn’t it?”
Laura looked at Nate again. What was he doing?
Was this an act, or…
Was he really off his meds, unstable, and completely unsure of the severity of the situation he found himself in?
Laura knew she was going to regret asking it – knew she was only shooting herself in the foot. But there was a certain duty of care. And even if this man was a killer, and even if it was hard to be compassionate towards him for that reason, there was still the fact that an unsafe interview would never stand up in court.
“Why didn’t you want to exercise your right to a lawyer, Mr. Jardine?” she asked.
“I don’t know any lawyers,” he said. “But it’s okay. I won’t get you in trouble about the door. I guess I overreacted by locking it. So long as you pay to fix it, I don’t need a lawyer.”
Laura looked at Nate and took a deep breath.
“This interview is suspended until you have representation and a medical check,” she said, getting up and taking her file with her. Nate followed. She paused on the threshold of the door and looked back at Jardine. “Just stay there. Someone will come to talk with you soon.”
Outside, Nate leaned against the wall, sighing, as Laura closed the door.
“I had to,” Laura said. “I don’t think he has even a single clue about what’s going on right now.”
“You’re right,” Nate said. “I just wish he’d made some casual offhand comment about how he strangled them, or something. So we could wrap this up nicely.”
“I know,” Laura said. “But I don’t know if he did it, anyway.”
Nate looked at her sharply. “What? But he fits everything. He’s the right height and build; he knew all three of the victims personally. He clearly has a problem with that book not turning out as successful as he thought it would. He’s got all the right signs.”
“And yet,” Laura said, shaking her head. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s a good actor. But it felt to me like he was way too out of touch with reality to be able to pull something like this off so well.”
“I mean… maybe,” Nate said. “But if you’re right, then what are we supposed to do now? The day’s getting late. We don’t know if the killer is intending to strike again tonight. Not to mention Rondelle wants us to finish this up as quick as possible.”
“I have an idea of where to start,” Laura said, holding up the copy of the book with a determined look.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Laura sat down at her desk and slapped the book down on it, gesturing to Nate’s computer. “Are you ready?”
“Give me a chance,” he swore, hurriedly sitting down and waking up his monitor. He rapidly typed in his login credentials and then nodded. “Okay, give me the first one.”
“I have a Callie Scrivener,” Laura said. “It says here she was thirty-eight at the time of the interview.”
Nate typed rapidly on his keyboard. “Yep. I’ve got her. Looks like she’s still local according to the most recent information. Date of birth matches up with that age range.”
Laura flipped ahead through Booke Ware’s interview. “Next one is Gus Tanner.”
Nate type again. “Age?”
“No idea,” Laura said. She skim-read the first few lines of the chapter. “He was seventeen when his near death experience happened, so I guess any age from that up.”
“Gustavus Tanner,” Nate said. “Got him! What a name. Alright, looks like he’s moved out of state.”
“He’s safe, then,” Laura said. “Right? I mean, how far out of state?”
“Way out of state,” Nate said. “Like, a flight away.”
“Great, then the killer isn’t going to go that far to get to him,” Laura said. “At least, not until he’s already gone after Callie – might as well get the ones you can reach locally first.”
“Agreed,” Nate said. “Right, next one?”
Laura flipped past Jessika and the old man Jardine had mentioned, scanning the text for any other names. She didn’t want to miss a potential victim because she hadn’t realized they were mentioned as an aside in one of the interviews as someone with the same experience. “I have Clara Brand, twenty-two at the time of the interview.”
“Got her,” Nate said. “She’s still local as well.”
Laura flipped through the rest of the pages. “I haven’t got anyone else that we haven’t already heard of,” she said. “One of those two women has to be the next victim.”
“Next victim?”
Laura looked up to see Princess Detective standing right behind them, holding an instant coffee cup. “We’re just covering our bases,” she said.
“But you’ve got the killer in custody,” Princess said. “Right? Everyone else has gone out to the bar to celebrate.”
“Nice of them to invite us,” Nate muttered.
“We may not,” Laura said. “He hasn’t confessed, and we haven’t found any physical evidence yet. It pays to be cautious. What we do have is pretty concrete evidence on who the next two potential victims are.”
“Oh!” the Princess replied. “So, you can protect those two instead of trying to go after another potential suspect.”
“Right,” Laura nodded. “We’d better give them a call. It’s getting late already. We can warn them to be safe and send some patrol cars to hang around outside and make sure no one goes after them.”
“I’ll take Callie,” Nate said. “You call Clara.”
Laura nodded, taking a piece of paper from him as soon as he’d finished scrawling the number from his screen. She was oddly aware of the detective watching her, like she was a case study in a class. She dialed the number and waited, hearing the tone ring and ring and ring…
“Hello?”
“Hi, is that Clara Brand?” Laura asked. “You did an interview for a book called Secrets Revealed: Near Death Experiences by Sean Jardine?”
“Um, yes, that’s me,” she said on the other end of the line, sounding puzzled. Her voice was youthful, as expected.
“My name is Special Agent Laura Frost with the FBI,” she said. “I’m calling as we believe you may be in danger. I’m sorry to be dramatic, but there is a killer attacking your fellow interviewees, and you are one of just two candidates left that he could go after.”
“What?” There was a long moment of pause. Laura let Clara get her head around it a little before continuing.
“You’ve probably heard the details of a couple of them on the news this week,” Laura said. “Unfortunately, this is very serious. I’m sending a patrol car to you now to keep an eye on you – where are you at the moment?”
“Oh, I’m at home,” Clara said. “Oh, gosh. There’s… there’s really no need. I’m staying inside tonight. I don’t want to waste your resources.”
“It’s not a waste,” Laura said. “We really think you could be in serious danger.”
“Well, did the killer break into anyone else’s house?” Clara asked.
“… No,” Laura admitted.
“I’ll keep the windows and doors locked and stay upstairs,” Clara declared. “Even if someone comes to the door, I won’t answer. What about tomorrow?”
“Unless you hear from us, I think it’s a good idea for you to stay safe until the killer is definitively caught,” Laura said. “I’m sorry, but it could be a number of days – but we truly believe you are his next victim, and the only way to prevent that is to keep him from getting to you.”
“I understand,” Clara said. “I just went to the grocery store yesterday, so I should be fine for a few days or even a week. I’ll let my boss know.”
“Thank you for taking this seriously,” Laura said. “Again, if you do need to go out for any reason, please call me back on this number. We’ll get a patrol car over to you. It’s not safe for you to be outside on your own, even for a moment, right now.”
“Okay,” Clara said. “I’ll let you know. Thanks for calling.”
“Alright,” Laura said, and the line went dead.
She looked up. Nate was also already off the phone; he shook his head at her.
“No answer on mine,” he said.
“Mine agreed to stay inside and keep everything locked, potentially for the whole week,” Laura said. “So, if his path to her is closed off, then it has to be Callie that he goes after. We haven’t been able to warn her, so we need to get over there as soon as possible. It’s already getting dark.”
“Do you think he’s going to go after her?” Princess asked. “If it’s not the one we have in custody, I mean.”
“I’m sure of it,” Laura said, gathering her coat and everything she needed from the desk as she stood up. “He was more cautious at first, leaving a couple of days between victims. But over time, killers escalate their behavior – especially when they know that the police are closing in on them. We could expect an attack tonight. And even if he doesn’t strike now, the quicker we get over there and make sure she’s safe, the better.”
“I’m coming with you,” Princess declared.
“Hang on,” Nate said. “Where are we going?”
Laura looked at him. “What do you mean?”
“The killer usually targets them when they’re leaving work for the day. Do we know where she works?”
“No,” Laura said. “Alright – detective, I want you to stay here with Agent Lavoie. You’re going to get on Callie Scrivener’s social media and find out where she works. The two of you can head over there if she would still be on shift, or if your data indicates that she would already be at home, follow me. I want to get over there as soon as possible, make sure we’re covering the base we do know about.”
“That makes sense,” Nate nodded. “Right, Detective Tanzi – let’s split the apps between us in case she doesn’t have accounts on all of them.”
Laura walked away to the sounds of the two of them discussing who was doing what, heading right for the precinct parking lot. The rental car keys jingled in her hand as she went.
She stepped outside into the twilight, looking up at the sky. She needed to get there now. Quicker than now.
Because as soon as it was dark enough to hide a man dressed in black within the shadows, she had this feeling in her gut.
He was going to attack – and it was going to be tonight.
***
Laura knocked loudly on the door for the second time, her hands almost feeling bruised as they met the cold plastic, and then rang the doorbell again. There was still no response. She sighed in frustration. The car was parked in the driveway. Had the killer already been here? Maybe she should call for backup, get the door broken down.
“Excuse me?”
Laura turned, whipping around in surprise, her hand going to her gun. When she saw that it was only an older woman leaning over the fence between this property and the one next door, she had to force herself to relax.
“Hello?” she said, barely even hearing her own voice over the rapid and violent beating of her heart.
“Are you looking for Miss Scrivener? I heard you knocking,” she said.
“Yes,” Laura replied, stepping closer. “Do you know if she’s home? Her car is here.”
“No, she’s not here, dear,” the neighbor replied. “Her sister gave birth last week so she went over there to help out. I think she took the train.”
“I see,” Laura said. She glanced back at the dark, silent house. “Do you know when she’s going to be back?”
“I don’t think she has a set plan,” the neighbor said. “Possibly until they don’t need her anymore.”
“Right. Thanks,” Laura said. She started to walk away, back towards her car, thinking.
Thank goodness for nosy neighbors, was her first thought. But behind that, there was something more. Something that worried her a lot.
If two of the interviewees from the book were out of the killer’s range, then he had only two options. Either he traveled out of town and changed his MO thus far completely, going to a different city and presumably a different state, a place he didn’t know well. It would be a huge risk.
And his other option was to go after the one victim he had left.
Clara Brand.
She had said she would stay inside, lock the doors, never answer them. And Laura had assured her that the killer had never broken into anyone’s house so far.
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