Mariah Stewart - Cold Truth

He began to remove items from the box, one by one.

“Here’s the chain with the heart… the earrings. No ribbon. Maybe in this box…” Denver started searching through a second box. When he came up empty-handed, he moved on to the third.

“Why would someone take the ribbon and leave the gold jewelry?” Rick wondered aloud.

“Right. If you were going to steal from the evidence box, why wouldn’t you take the items that had some value? Of what use is-” Denver stopped in mid-sentence and turned to look at Rick.

“Those pink fibers the lab found in the victims’ hair,” he said flatly.

“That’s what I’m thinking. Question is, how did he get it?”

“How did who get what?” Cass came into the room, followed by Annie, who, realizing that Rick could have used a little more time, gave him an apologetic smile. “We got you both some ice cream.”

Cass proceeded to unpack the bag. “Chocolate for the chief… I know that’s his favorite. Annie thought you liked coffee, Rick.”

Rick nodded. “I do. Thanks.”

“What’s in the boxes?” Cass frowned, then glanced at the label on the side of the box closest to the end of the table.

Burke homicide.

Cass looked from Rick to the chief and back again.

“You know, you didn’t have to send me out for ice cream, as if I were a child.” She addressed the men, angry with both. “I’m really insulted neither of you thought I could deal with this, that I wasn’t professional enough or stable enough-”

“Don’t blame them,” Annie interrupted. “That was me. I could tell from Rick’s expression that something was bothering him and it appeared he needed us to clear out. I wasn’t sure why. Ice cream was the only thing I could think of, since I skipped lunch and ice cream is the first thing I ever think of when I’m hungry. I apologize. It wasn’t intended as anything more than a means to buy Rick a little time for… whatever it was he wanted to do.”

“Apparently what he wanted to do was go through the evidence without me present. I’m not that fragile, Rick. I know what evidence boxes contain. In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve been a detective for several years, I’ve seen dead bodies… hell, who do you think took the photos of those victims?” She pointed to the stack on the table.

“I’m sorry, Cass. It just occurred to me to look for something specific, and I didn’t want you to be upset if we found it.” He blew out a long breath. “I’m sorry. I was absolutely out of line. I should have thought it through. If I had, I would have realized that you didn’t need to be patronized. I’m really sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”

“Did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Find what you were looking for?”

“No.”

“And what was it, may I ask?”

“The ribbon you pulled out of your mother’s hair that morning.”

“It wasn’t there?” She frowned.

“It’s gone. The chief remembers that it had been there after the trial. But it’s gone now.”

“He took it. He has it.” Cass stared up at Rick, her anger pushed aside for now. “The fibers Tasha found… she said it was from ribbon that hasn’t been manufactured for years…”

“How’s that fit in with your profile, Dr. McCall?” Denver asked.

Annie set her bag on the conference table and reopened the file. She drew out the envelope of photographs the chief had given her when she arrived and spread the pictures across the table. Without being asked, Denver took a folder from one of the boxes and removed a photo, which he handed to Annie. She studied it for several minutes, then placed it on the table, ahead of the others.

“This puts it all into perspective,” she said matter-of-factly. “This has it all make sense.”

Her eyes went from crime scene photo to crime scene photo.

“Explain it to me, then, because I’m not following.” Denver crossed his arms over his chest. “How do you explain the fact that he killed all the Burkes? Except you, of course, Cass, though God knows he tried.” He paused to ask her, “Are you sure you’re up to this? You know, no one would think less of you. This is your family we’re talking about here.”

Cass waved away his concern and nodded. She’d never seen the photos of the crime scene from her own house, and, despite her bravado, wasn’t looking forward to it now. At that moment, her pride kept her in her seat and focused on the photos on the table between her and Annie.

“See, I’m saying the Burke homicides don’t fit the pattern, Dr. McCall. Jenny Burke was attacked along with her whole family. And Jenny Burke was not raped. All the other victims were attacked alone-every one of them raped and strangled-none of them in their homes.”

“It all falls into place when you realize that Jenny Burke was his first victim.” Annie turned to Cass. “Earlier you said your father always left the house very early in the morning. That he took charters out on a regular basis.”

“That’s right. He fished just about every day, took charters out at least five times a week in the warm months.”

“What time did he usually arrive home?”

“It must have been around four-thirty, most days. I don’t know that I could tell time when I was six, but I do remember my mother saying, ‘It’s time to clean up for dinner, Daddy will be home before the clock strikes five.’ Knowing now what I know about charters, I’d guess that by the time he got back to the marina and tied up the boat, cleaned it up from the trip so it was ready to go again the next day, four-thirty might be closer. If they had a really good morning, though, if the fish were running really strong and everyone in the party caught what they wanted, he’d have brought the boat back in early. There would have been no reason to stay out.”

“Which apparently was the case on that day.”

“According to Henry Stone-he worked for Bob-they were back to the dock by twelve-thirty, and left for home shortly before one,” Denver told her. “Actually, when Bob was attacked, he was standing at the kitchen sink, cleaning that morning’s catch. Had his back to the door.”

“And what time did the attack occur?” Annie asked.

“We got to the house around two-thirty or so, I think. So it had to be before that.”

“Earlier I said I thought our man was young. Disorganized. That maybe this had been his first kill. Now I’m convinced that was the case.” Annie lowered herself into her seat. “I don’t think he went to the Burke house intending to kill anyone. I think he went there to see Jenny-he knew her from someplace. I think he was totally fixated on her. Maybe he fancied himself in love with her. Maybe he fancied that she was in love with him.”

“Obsessed,” Rick offered.

“Exactly.” Her gaze returned to the photos. “See how Jenny’s body is positioned? She’s fallen onto her side, her arms are over her head. And every one of his subsequent victims is in the same position, the more recent ones more carefully staged. I think he’s carried that picture-that memory of Jenny-in his head for all these years.”

“You’re saying you think he’s killing her over and over?” Cass asked.

“I think it’s more accurate to say that each time he’s hoping it ends differently,” Annie murmured. “I think he attacks these women because they remind him of Jenny, but each time he’s thinking, ‘This time I’ll get it right. She won’t fight me, I won’t have to hurt her.’”

“How could he possibly think a woman isn’t going to fight being raped and strangled?” Cass asked.

“He doesn’t think of it as rape. He thinks his victim wants to be intimate with him. He only strangles her when she doesn’t cooperate,” Annie explained.