Carla Cassidy - Desperate Measures

How did he feel when he’d learned that Max was the latest victim of the person the news had labeled the Vigilante Killer? He’d felt so many emotions that it had been difficult to sort them all out.

There had been the intense relief that Max Clinton would never again be in a position to hurt another woman. There had also been a renewed grief as Max’s murder had caused a rush of memories to torment him...memories of his beautiful sister’s life and torturous memories of the brutality of her death.

Two nights ago, Max had been killed by the Vigilante Killer, who liked slitting his victim’s throats and then carving a deep V into their foreheads. Some would call Max’s death karma, but Jake knew better.

Max’s murder had come out of a meeting of Jake and five other grieving, angry men who had entered an agreement that assured them each a place in hell.

Finally, Max’s murder had evoked a chilling, confirming fear as Jake recognized that he and those men had unleashed a monster on the community.

* * *

MONICA CURSED BENEATH her breath as she slit the tip of her finger on a piece of paper. So far, she was having a horrible morning and it was only nine o’clock.

She’d been up far too late the night before, waiting for her police department source to return her call. She wanted anything new he might have on the Vigilante Killer. Unfortunately, he hadn’t returned her call.

Then first thing this morning her single-serve coffee machine had gasped and sputtered and refused to give up a cup of coffee. Her shower had spurted out only a trickle and had reminded her she’d been meaning to buy a new shower head. And when she walked outside to retrieve her morning paper, she stepped squarely in a pile of fresh dog poo.

And now this...a tiny cut that hurt like hell and refused to stop bleeding. She grabbed a tissue from the box on her desk and wrapped it around her finger, then leaned back in her chair and released a sigh of frustration.

And the source of her frustration wasn’t the events of the morning, but rather that she hadn’t been able to get Jake Lamont to be on her podcast that evening.

He would have made a compelling guest. He was the only surviving member of his family after his twin sister had been brutally murdered. The alleged perpetrator had walked scot-free and then two years later was murdered by a killer who seemed to be on a bloody journey of justice denied in the Kansas City area.

So far the police had admitted this particular killer had murdered four men, each of whom had been suspects in heinous crimes and each of whom had walked free due to glitches in the judicial process. And the killer seemed to be on a fairly fast track—four kills in less than two months and with no end in sight. So far he’d left no clues behind for the authorities to follow.

Monica wanted to be the one to break the case wide open. It was a lofty aspiration for a woman who had a nightly news podcast with just over twenty thousand subscribers and news that focused on the Kansas City and surrounding areas.

She wanted to break the case not only in hopes of expanding her visibility, but also to quiet the self-doubt that had driven her for most of her life. She needed to prove to her father that...

She jumped as her landline rang. She never answered this phone. It was a tips line of sorts that she advertised each evening when she ended her show.

So far, she’d received eleven marriage proposals, countless invitations to be a baby mama and several phone calls that had offered her the chance to be involved in strange sexual situations.

Lately she’d also been getting calls from Larry Albright, a local contractor. Monica had done an exposé on him three days ago when it came to light that he was scamming people out of thousands of dollars.

In the past two days he’d left dozens of nasty and threatening messages for her. She now chewed on the nail of the index finger that didn’t have the paper cut on it as she waited to see who was calling this time.

“Hi, Monica. My name is Janet McCall. You don’t know me, but I’m a huge fan of yours. Uh...but that’s not why I’m calling. I know you’ve been asking for any information anyone might have concerning the Vigilante Killer.”

The woman paused and Monica leaned forward, the paper cut on her finger forgotten. “This might be nothing at all and I could be wasting your time. I run the Northland Survivor Group and I just thought it was an odd coincidence that the Vigilante Killer has killed four men who perpetrated crimes against four of the men who attended my group for a short period of time.”

Monica picked up the phone. “Janet, it’s Monica Wright.”

“Oh... I didn’t expect to speak to you in person.” She released a nervous laugh. “I’m a huge fan of yours.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it, but I want to make sure I understand what you’re telling me.”

“Okay...hmm...according to the reports, the Vigilante Killer’s first victim was Brian McDowell, who beat Matt Harrison’s mother to death. The second victim was Steven Winthrop, who raped and killed Nick Simon’s wife. The third kill was of Dwight Weatherby, who killed Troy Anderson’s daughter, and now this fourth victim was Max Clinton, who beat and strangled Jake Lamont’s sister. Matt Harrison, Troy Anderson, Nick Simon and Jake Lamont all belonged to the Northland Survivor Group for several months and then they all stopped coming to the meetings about the same time.”

There was a long pause as Monica slowly digested the information. Janet gave another small, nervous laugh. “That was clear as mud, right?”

“Not at all, I’m just trying to wrap my mind around it,” Monica replied. “Have you spoken to the police or any of the authorities about this?”

“No. I didn’t really know if the information meant anything or not.”

“Right now I don’t know, either, but I’d like a little time to check into it before you give it to the police,” Monica said.

“Of course,” Janet replied slightly breathlessly. “So you think this might mean something?”

“To be honest, I don’t know, but I really appreciate you bringing this to me.”

Minutes later, Monica reared back in her chair, her mind racing with the information she’d just been given. Was it just a coincidence that the Vigilante Killer had murdered the bad guys of four men who attended a small survivors’ group?

There were dozens of survivors’ groups around the Kansas City area, yet according to what Janet had just told her, the Vigilante Killer had focused in on this particular group. Why?

And now she had another reason to talk to Jake Lamont. Although she couldn’t see how this information worked in the puzzle she was trying to piece together, it definitely warranted further exploration. And that’s what she did for a living.

For the rest of the morning she worked on the material for her podcast that night, and then she left the house to shop for a few groceries and to buy a new coffee machine. There was no way she was going to go a full day without her coffee.

It was nearly three by the time she got back home. The whole time she’d been shopping, her brain had worked overtime on the information Janet had given her. She made herself a cup of coffee and once again sat in her office chair.

Rather than thinking about the killer, she found herself thinking about Jake Lamont. He was definitely one hot hunk of a man. His suit had fit perfectly over his broad shoulders. His dark hair had been slightly shaggy and his eyes had been the deep green of a primal forest.

She’d come home the night before and had done a search on him. She’d learned that he was single and a successful architect. She’d reread articles about his sister’s murder, and she’d also used a search engine that had provided both his work and home phone numbers and his home address.