Mariah Stewart - Cold Truth

She tapped her fingers on the table absently, then looked at the chief.

“Are there photos of the earlier victims? The ones from 1979?”

“Not as many, and not as good. Back then, I remember we thought it was a little ghoulish to take as many pictures of the body as we do now, from all the different angles.” He passed several envelopes to the opposite end of the table. “I wish we’d taken more.”

Annie poured over the images of the old crime scenes.

“Are these in order?” She frowned. “I’d like to see them in order, to study the progression.”

Denver started out of his seat, but Cass had already slid down a few chairs.

“They should go like this,” she was saying. “Alicia Coors, she was the first one. Here in Bowers. Then Carol Jo Hughes-also in Bowers-then Cindy Shelkirk. She was the first victim in one of the other bay towns, she was killed in Tilden. Terry List, she was from Dewey. Mary Pat Engles… Tilden…”

And so on, through all thirteen victims. Annie sat quietly and watched Cass as she placed the victims in order of their deaths.

“Well, then, let’s take a look and see what these ladies have to tell us.” Annie’s eyes went from one to the next.

“He was much younger then, I’d say. Not yet an adult. He was unskilled in this business, these first times out. And he didn’t have his game on back then. He hadn’t evolved.”

“What do you mean?” Cass asked. “He hadn’t evolved into what?”

“Into the methodical killer he is now,” Annie responded without hesitation. “Here, in these early kills, these crime scenes have little in common with the recent ones. There’s no thought whatsoever to placement of the body… see how carefully the arms and legs have been positioned in these current scenes? Back then, it was all about the killing. There seems to have been an anger, a recklessness at work there that I don’t see in your latest victims. Notice the bruises on the side of this woman’s face? He smacked her around a bit before he got down to business. And this one, too. His technique was raw then, the killing had an almost desperate quality.” She paused to take a sip of water from a bottle she retrieved from her oversized handbag. “The current kills are almost passionless.”

She screwed the white plastic cap back on the bottle as Rick came into the room and gave her a thumbs-up, meaning the requested files would be on their way. She nodded an acknowledgment and continued.

“The victims themselves, though, there’s where he was making his statement back then. All around the same age, same body type, and of course, the hair. Whoever he was killing, over and over, he had been totally fixated on her hair…”

“Ah, Annie, I think there’s something you need to know that isn’t in that file we sent you,” Rick said.

“Oh?”

Rick turned to Cass as if asking a silent question, to which she responded with a slow nod.

“Cass’s mother was the victim of a murder here in Bowers Inlet twenty-six years ago. Her entire family was attacked. Cass was the only survivor.”

Denver bristled. “That was completely different, I told you. Why are you bringing it up?”

“Chief, I can’t help but see the similarities-”

“What similarities? Don’t you think if there’d been similarities, we’d have noticed?”

“-and with Lucy being attacked-Lucy, who looks so much like Cass’s mother…”

“Whoa, wait a minute. I don’t have a victim named Lucy.” Annie skimmed her notes. “Who’s Lucy?”

“Lucy is my cousin. She’s been staying with me for the past week,” Cass told her. “Sunday night, she was attacked.”

“By this killer?” Annie tapped on the photos.

“We believe so.”

Before she could say anything else, Rick touched Cass on the arm and said, “Tell her what Lucy told you.”

“He called her Jenny,” Cass said. “Repeatedly. He called her Jenny the entire time.”

“Wait, wait.” Annie held up both hands to stop them. “Start from the beginning. Who is Jenny?”

“Jenny was my mother’s name.”

“Your mother… who was murdered that summer.”

“Yes.”

“Before or after the other killings?”

“Before.”

“Cass…” Rick touched her arm. “I think you need to tell her the whole story.”

“Is this necessary?” The chief stared at Rick.

“I think it is. Annie?” Rick sought her input.

“I agree. If Cass is in agreement…?”

Cass nodded.

“Let’s start by you telling me everything you remember about the day your family was attacked.” Annie paused, then asked, “Cass, may I record this interview? I’d rather be concentrating on what you’re saying instead of having to take notes.”

“Absolutely, do.”

Annie took a small recorder from her bag and placed it on the table between her and Cass. After the initial introduction and the asking and granting of permission to record, Annie repeated the question.

“Cass, can you tell us what you remember about the day of the attack on your family? What is the first thing you remember?”

“I woke up early-the sun wasn’t up yet. I went into the bathroom and it was still dark, but I heard my father downstairs. He was taking a charter out that day, so he’d be gone long before dawn. I stood on the top step and was going to go down to the kitchen to ask him not to take the last brownies with him-we made them the day before, Mom and Trish and me. Well, Trish didn’t do a lot, she was only four…”

“How old were you, Cass?” Annie asked.

“I was six. I’d turn seven later that summer.”

“Okay, go on.”

“I was going to go downstairs, but then I heard the back door close, and I knew I’d never catch up with him. My dad was very tall and he walked really fast. By the time I’d have reached the kitchen, he’d have been in the car and backed down the drive, so I just went back to bed. My sister and I had started summer camp that week, and I was excited about going, so I couldn’t fall asleep. I was still awake when my mother came in to get me up.”

“What were you excited about?”

“Oh, just the whole camp thing. It was different from my everyday. One of my friends was having a birthday party that afternoon. It was going to be a picnic on the beach. And I was still all revved up from the day before. The bird sanctuary had been officially opened, and we’d spent the entire day there.” Cass paused momentarily, remembering. “My mother drove us in the morning-we stopped to pick up Lucy. She was my age and my best friend. When camp was over for the day, Lucy’s mother-my Aunt Kimmie, my mother’s sister-picked us up and drove us home.”

“What time was it, do you remember?”

“After lunch. Sometime around two.”

“When you arrived home, did you go directly into the house?”

“Yes. Well, that is, Trish went in first. The minute we pulled up in front of the house, she jumped out and ran for the door, crying because Aunt Kimmie was going to take Lucy and me to the party, and Trish hadn’t been invited. She ran into the house before I was even out of the car.”

Cass swallowed hard and Rick left the room momentarily. Through the open door, they heard the thump of a can of soda being ejected from the machine outside the conference room. He returned in an instant and handed the can of Diet Pepsi to Cass, the tab already popped.

“Thank you.” She took a long drink. “Thanks.”

“What happened next?” Annie asked.

“Lucy and I got out of the backseat. I went up to the house. It was so quiet…”

“Wait a minute. Lucy got out of the car with you?” Rick asked.

“Yes.”

Rick frowned. “I don’t remember seeing her name in any of the reports I read. Did she go into the house?”