The Darkness Beneath, page 26
Alex studied the sketch, noting the man had a distinctive look with light-coloured, shoulder length hair, dark eyes and a moustache and goatee.
‘Bartender put him at average height and build, said the hair looked bleached. Had him pegged as a beach bum type.’
‘And the staff in the bar Caroline was in, have they been shown this picture?’
‘They have. As I say, they didn’t remember him. The bar was far busier. I’ve been working with Buddy Hamilton who pulled the Henderson case. He has copies of the sketch for distribution.’
‘So we know he picks his victims up in bars.’ Alex mused. ‘There’s nothing to suggest they have been pre-targeted. And Penny left with him, which intimates he tries to get the women to go willingly. Of course, Caroline doesn’t fit in with that, unless she agreed to meet him outside. If not, why did he change his pattern?’
‘There also could be an escalation between kills. Judging from the remains we’ve recovered this might have been going on for years, but Penny and Caroline disappeared two weeks apart. If the killings had always been that close in the past we’d have surely noticed all these women going missing.’
‘That suggests he’s unraveling, which makes him even more dangerous.’
‘And unpredictable,’ Hunter agreed.
‘We need to figure out where he’s taking them. His hunting ground covers a couple of hundred miles, so where is the killing carried out?’
‘Has to be somewhere mobile.’ Hunter furrowed his brow, studying the sketch. ‘Ms Marsden said he likes to torture his victims before killing them. That requires seclusion and suggests he uses the same place. Somewhere where he knows he has privacy and can take his time. Somewhere he can also dismember the bodies without fear of being caught, maybe a truck or a van? He goes hunting for a victim, lures her away from the bar, they drive out somewhere nice and quiet in his van then he gets her in the back, overpowers her, ties her up and has his wicked way with her. If he picks an isolated spot, no one is likely to disturb him and he can take as long as he needs. Once she’s dead he dismembers the body, cleans himself up then heads back to the marina and takes the remains of his victim out to sea. And once on the water he heads to his same favorite spot to put the remains overboard.’
Alex considered the theory. It made sense and would certainly explain why the killer was able to cover a wide area. That he chose a spot between East Haven and Purity as the dumping ground suggested he was local to the area.
It would mean, as well as a van or a truck, the killer had access to a boat. Hardly a stretch though, as most residents in the area owned a vessel. Purity was predominantly a fishing island and both East Haven and Winchester were coastal towns with marinas.
That was when it hit him. The killer used somewhere that gave him complete privacy.
He looked at Hunter, gave a twisted smile. ‘Maybe it’s not a van or a truck he uses. Maybe he kills them on a boat.’
*
After spending an hour with her brother, satisfied he was on the road to recovery, Nell excused herself from the hospital to run some errands. As she left the bank, walked along the high street back to where she had left her car, enjoying the cool, but sunny day, she spotted Jenna Milborn coming out of nail salon where she worked. She seemed distracted, checking her phone then lighting a cigarette. As she paced along the sidewalk in front of the salon Nell saw Curtis striding across the street towards her, watched as he roughly grabbed hold of her arm, his face red and angry as he swore at her.
Jenna flinched, dropping her cigarette, protesting and trying to pull away as he clipped her around the head before dragging her into the alleyway beside the salon.
‘Hey!’ Nell didn’t even allow herself time to think, sprinting after them, her heart in her mouth. She recognized this scene and, although she had been a victim of it herself, she couldn’t stand by and watch it happen to someone else.
As she turned into the alleyway, Jenna had her head ducked and hands raised, trying to shield herself as Curtis screamed into her face.
‘You’re a fucking liar, Jenna. I saw you with my own two eyes.’
‘It was nothing, please, nothing happened.’
‘Do you think I’m not good enough for you?’
His fist shot out from nowhere, punching Jenna hard in the gut. She gasped, trying to catch her breath, eyes filling with tears as she sunk to the floor.
‘Stop it. You’re hurting her.’
Curtis whirled on Nell, his face twisting in disgust as he recognized her. ‘Mind your own fucking business, O’Connor. This is between my wife and me.’ As though making a point he reached down grabbing Jenna by the throat and yanking her to her feet.
Nell took a cautious step forward, aware Curtis was irrational, angry and most likely, judging from the fumes coming off his breath, mean drunk. He squeezed the hand he had clamped round Jenna’s throat, lifting her off her feet and causing her to gasp for air.
‘Stop it, Curtis. You’ll kill her.’
Nell reached for his arm, didn’t have time to react when he suddenly backhanded her across the face. Dazed and tasting blood in her mouth, she staggered backwards out of the alley and onto the high street, as Curtis advanced on her.
‘I told you to stop sticking your nose in private business,’ he sneered, his face close to hers, the stale smell of whiskey on his breath making her feel sick. ‘You’re a pain in the ass. Someone needs to teach you a lesson.’
He poked her hard in the chest. On instinct, Nell grabbed hold of his finger, bent it back hard. Curtis squealed, his free hand swinging at her. This time she was quick enough to duck, but lost her balance in the process, landing uncomfortably on her butt. She was aware of yelling coming from down the street, people running towards her, as Curtis leaned down, grabbing her by the collar of her sweater, preparing to swing his fist.
Nell went for the nearest target, reaching her hand up between his legs, tightly squeezing him by the balls. He yowled in pain as she twisted hard, releasing his grip on her sweater and stumbling back.
Adrenalin searing through her veins, she clambered to her feet, barely aware of her cut lip or grazed hands. A small crowd had gathered; she was aware of someone’s arm slide round her shoulders, and turned to see Antonia. A couple of the women who worked with Jenna had rushed into the alleyway and were helping her to her feet, while two older gentlemen were trying to restrain Curtis, who was still crying with pain, his face red and contorted as he cupped his balls and swore at Nell. ‘You fucking bitch, O’Connor. I’m gonna knock your head off.’
‘What the hell’s going on?’
Nell turned at Alex’s voice. He was with Tommy and a guy she didn’t recognize, sleekly dressed, chiselled features. The Winchester detective she presumed.
‘I want to press charges,’ Curtis spluttered, staggering forward. ‘Fucking bitch busted my balls.’
‘You hit her first,’ Antonia pointed out. ‘And there are half a dozen witnesses who saw you do it.’
Alex glanced at Nell, his expression darkening as he took in her cut lip.
‘Bitch had it coming, poking her nose in my bus –’
He didn’t get to finish his sentence, the breath whooshing out of him as, in one fluid move, Alex had him pinned against the wall of the nail salon, his face mashed into the brickwork. As he yanked Curtis’s hands behind his back, cuffing him and reading him his rights, Curtis began to protest.
‘Wait! She assaulted me. You gonna arrest her too? Jenna will tell you what happened. Jenna?’
Nell glanced over at Jenna Milborn, still flanked by her colleagues. Her eyes were tear-stained and she looked apprehensively at her husband. For a moment Nell thought she was going to rush to defend him, but mercifully she remained silent.
Alex handed the still-protesting Curtis over to Tommy. ‘Put him in a cell. I’ll be back in a bit.’
‘Sure thing, Chief.’
As Tommy escorted Curtis Milborn away and the small crowd started to disperse, Alex turned to Nell, ran the pad of his thumb over her cut lip. ‘You want to tell me what happened?’
She was still pumped up, the old familiar fear she had of being attacked usurped by the fact she had fought back, giving as good as she had gotten, and although she was shaking it occurred to her for the first time that the panic hadn’t taken over. Her anger had been stronger. It felt like a victory. ‘I saw him beating up his wife, so I intervened.’
When Alex raised a brow, questioning the wisdom of her decision, she managed a weak smile. ‘Don’t judge me by my split lip. It looks worse than it is. I did more damage to him than he did to me, I promise.’
‘It certainly looked that way as he hobbled off just now,’ Alex’s detective friend interjected, agreeing with her, humor in his coffee-colored eyes.
Alex relaxed slightly, though still kept a wary eye on her. ‘Nell, meet Hunter Stone. He’s the detective who’s been working with us on the Penny Maher case. Hunter, this is Nell O’Connor. I’m not sure if you’ve just seen her at her worst or finest moment,’ he joked, sidestepping when Nell swiped at him. ‘Hey, I’m staying on your good side. I’ve just seen what you do to men who piss you off.’
‘Good to meet you, Nell,’ Hunter told her, shaking her hand.
‘It’s nice to meet you too. And I’m sorry for what you just witnessed. I don’t make a habit of brawling in the street.’
‘Looked like he had it coming.’ He smiled at Nell, even-white teeth contrasting against his dark skin, kind eyes full of humor, and she warmed to him immediately.
‘Hunter’s staying on the island tonight. I thought we could take him out to dinner.’
‘Sure, that sounds nice. I guess I had better get my lip cleaned up.’
‘We’ve a first aid box in the diner,’ Antonia offered. She had been hovering on the periphery, eyes all over Hunter Stone. ‘Coffee’s on the house.’
‘She makes great coffee,’ Nell told Hunter, who looked as though he was wavering.
‘Well then I guess we can’t say no.’
Alex caught Nell by the hand, led the way to where Antonia directed them through to the kitchen at the back of the diner. He closed the door, giving them some privacy, before pulling the first aid box down from the shelf.
‘You’re sure you’re okay?’ He ran his hands up and down her arms. ‘You’re shaking.’
‘My lip stings and yes, I’m shaking, but other than that I’m fine. He didn’t get the better of me, Alex. I stood up for myself and I didn’t have a panic attack. Do you know how good that feels?’
Alex smiled as he cupped Nell’s chin with one hand, inspecting the cut. ‘It’s not deep enough for stitches. You’ll just look a little ugly for a while.’
‘You’re such a charmer.’
She was still spiked on adrenalin, but working her way down and she appreciated the humor as it helped take her mind off the ugly situation with Curtis. She resisted wriggling as Alex cleaned the wound.
‘I can’t believe you took on Curtis Milborn,’ he commented as he applied antiseptic cream, looking up to meet her eyes as he capped the tube.
‘He was attacking his wife. I couldn’t walk by and ignore it.’
‘I’m not sure your brother will agree. Can you stay away from the hospital until your lip has healed? My neck is gonna be on the line for this.’
He was teasing again, lightening the moment.
‘I think he will be more concerned I had my hand on Curtis Milborn’s balls,’ Nell commented dryly, provoking a laugh from Alex.
He settled his hands on her hips, pulled her up against him, brushing his lips against hers and the metallic taste of blood. ‘As your boyfriend, I should have more of a problem with that,’ he told her lightly. ‘The thing is I’ve wanted to catch Curtis in the act for a while. Jenna has always refused to press charges, but this time I’ve got him. As you helped, I’ll let the whole ball-touching thing slide.’
‘Whoa, back up. Did you just use the B-word?’
‘Balls?’ Alex asked innocently.
‘No, you know what B-word I meant.’
The lines around his eyes crinkled, his cheeks dimpling against that wide cheeky grin Nell had fallen for. ‘Ah – boyfriend. Yeah, I did. You have a problem with that, O’Connor?’
Nell slipped her arms around his neck. ‘No problem.
She ran her hands up into his hair, pulled him towards her for another kiss, this one longer, lingering, a little scared by the intensity of her feelings for him. It had never felt this way with Caleb.
Alex broke the kiss first, leaning his forehead against hers. ‘We should get back to Hunter. Did you see the look Antonia was giving him? I think she’s planning on offering herself up for dessert.’
Nell stifled a giggle. ‘We’d better go rescue him.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Alex took great satisfaction in formerly going through the arrest procedure. Although Curtis had spent the night in the cells on more than one occasion, it had previously been to cool off, and as Jenna always refused to press charges, they had never bothered taking his prints or a DNA sample.
‘I want to press charges against your girlfriend,’ Curtis protested as he was locked back in the cell after putting in a call to his lawyer. ‘She was the one who assaulted me.’
‘You have any witnesses for that?’ Alex asked mildly.
‘My wife will be my witness.’
‘You beat the crap out of your wife. She’s hardly reliable.’
‘You have no proof of that.’
‘But I do have proof that you assaulted Nell and a dozen witnesses who saw you do it. Jenna may not press charges, but Nell will.’
‘Nell O’Connor is a troublemaking bitch. Everyone has noticed how people keep dying or getting hurt when she is around. It should have been her in the Dolan house that night.’
Tommy picked that moment to walk in the room, visibly flinching at the reminder.
‘You agree, don’t you, Tommy? Nell is the reason why Lizzie Kent is dead. I wish it had been her in your house that night.’
‘I have something you’re gonna want to see, Chief.’
Alex scowled at Curtis, glad they were separated by bars. He didn’t want anything going wrong with this arrest. Ignoring the man, he followed Tommy out of the cells.
‘What you got?’
Tommy held out the plastic bag containing Curtis’s possessions. ‘Recognize anything?’
Alex spotted the matchbook right away. It was the same brand as the one they had found outside the guesthouse after Luke had been shot.
‘Let’s get his prints in the system and see if we get a match.’
*
It would have been sweet justice to find out that Curtis was the shooter at the guesthouse so Alex was bitterly disappointed when they didn’t get a match. He brooded in his office for a while, annoyed because he knew the assault charge for hitting Nell was unlikely to bring more than a slap on the wrist. It also meant that whoever was harassing her was still at large and that pissed him off. She had been through enough.
He forced his mind back to the serial-killer case, knowing he didn’t have any more time to waste on Curtis. He spoke with Hunter and Buddy Hamilton, the detective working the Caroline Henderson disappearance. Between them they were compiling a list of registered boats in their jurisdictions. He cross-referenced the list for Purity, eliminating several of the smaller vessels and any that didn’t have cabins, knowing their killer would need room and privacy to kill and dismember his victims.
As he worked, his mind kept going back to Curtis and the level of vitriol he had shown towards Nell following his arrest. The throwaway comment he had made about Lizzie Kent’s murder ate at him. Curtis had commented it should have been Nell in the house. Nothing odd there as everyone knew Nell was supposed to babysit, but it was the way he had said that he wished it had been Nell. Although there was nothing incriminating in the words, it was the manner in which he had said them, as though he had been there.
It was stupid. Alex knew he was clutching at straws, that his personal involvement with Nell was clouding his judgement when it came to Curtis. He forced himself to focus, but the comment continued to play on his mind.
Curtis would have been about nineteen when Lizzie was killed. He had always been a man who seemed to believe the world owed him a favor and in the few years Alex had known him he had been involved in numerous shady deals. Was it that big a stretch to believe he would have wanted in on a home robbery?
There was no evidence linking him to the crime, just a crazy biased hunch, and Alex had other priorities, but it didn’t stop him taking time out to check Curtis’s prints against the partial one that had been found on the knife that stabbed Lizzie. He didn’t expect a match, was surprised that there was, though the print on the knife hadn’t been clear, so it wasn’t conclusive.
It was still enough to pull Curtis into the interrogation room.
If he wanted to get a confession Alex knew he was going to have to call Curtis’s bluff. The man sat at the table looking cocky as hell, as though he held all the cards. His slimy lawyer, Winston Shakeshaft, had arrived and was by his side.
‘You were sloppy, Curtis.’
‘How’s that?’
‘Well if you didn’t keep beating up on women you wouldn’t have ended up in jail with your prints on file.’
Shakeshaft was quick to interject, pointing out that his client hadn’t yet been found guilty of beating up anyone.
Alex ignored him, aware he had Curtis’s attention. ‘Now we have your prints we can run them against other crimes.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘You know there was a print found on the knife that was used to stab Lizzie Kent?’
Curtis glanced at his lawyer, swallowed hard. ‘What has that got to do with me?’
‘You can quit playing games, Curtis. The print is a match. We know it was you in the house with Roy Dolan that night. Your print is on the knife. You killed Lizzie.’
