J.D. Barker - The Fifth to Die - A gripping, page-turner of a crime thriller

“They wouldn’t take him out, though,” Kloz said. “Do that, and there’s nobody left to pay.”

“What about the wife? Maybe she owes somebody, and they made examples out of her daughter and her husband,” Sophie said. “Women bet on the ponies too.”

“They have time for that between all the cooking and the cleaning and baby making?” Kloz said, raising his notepad to shield his face from flying pens.

He lowered the notepad a moment later to find Clair just staring at him. “You are such a douche-nozzle.”

Sophie was shaking her head at him. “I don’t like you much.”

Nash studied the board. “That’s actually a good point.”

“Thank you,” Kloz said, smiling triumphantly.

“Not you, asshat. Sophie,” Nash said. “Clair, ask Hosman to dig into their finances in case things are amiss in suburbia.”

“On it.”

“Is somebody watching the mother?” Klozowski asked.

Nash nodded. “We left two uniforms there to keep an eye on her and their little boy. There were also three news vans outside when I left. I don’t think they’ll get much alone time in the near future. Probably a good thing.”

Clair was flipping through the images of Reynolds on Nash’s phone again. “This doesn’t really feel like a collection hit. Those guys tend to work efficiently, a double tap to the head, no mixed signals. They don’t build snowmen or spend hours positioning a body under the ice just right. Whoever this is, they’re trying to send some kind of message.”

“They’re not afraid of getting caught, either,” Sophie said. “They’re spending a lot of time in visible places.”

Clair nodded. “Somebody with nothing to lose has no fear, no remorse, they just act. That makes this guy very dangerous.”

Nash drew a line between Ella Reynolds and Lili Davies. “These two are connected somehow.”

Klozowski’s phone buzzed, and he glanced down at the display. “We’ve got a make and model on the truck from the park footage. It’s a 2011 Toyota Tundra.”

“See if you can get a list of matches within a hundred-mile radius of the city.”

Klozowski was already tapping at his phone. “Yep.”

“Any luck enhancing the image of the driver?”

“Nope,” Klozowski replied. “I tried before I came down here. The camera is old and doesn’t have the resolution.”

Nash went back to the board, crossed out the completed items, and studied the remaining list of assignments. “This is getting long, and now we’re down a man.”

Kloz set down his phone and raised his hand.

“Yes, Kloz?” Nash said, pointing at him.

Klozowski grinned. “See what I did there? Remember when Bishop raised his hand? That’s a ‘callback.’”

“Do you have something to add?”

Kloz nodded. “Yes, sir. I can go out in the field. I need to run to that Starbucks anyway to tackle their video footage.”

Nash glanced up at the evidence board. “What about your other assignments?”

“I’m not running a one-man show upstairs. I’ve got staff. I’ll bring my laptop, and they can feed information to us as they get it,” Kloz said.

Nash nodded. “Done. Ladies, let’s divide and conquer. You take the art gallery. They should be open by now. Kloz and I will hit Starbucks and tackle some of these other items on the list. At this point, we’ve got to assume Lili is still alive. We need a break.”

Clair stood up and stretched. “Should someone check on Sam?”

“Nope,” Nash replied.

Evidence Board

ELLA REYNOLDS (15 years old)

Reported missing 1/22

Found 2/12 in Jackson Park Lagoon

Water frozen since 1/2 — (20 days before she went missing)

Last seen — getting off her bus at Logan Square (2 blocks from home/15 miles from Jackson Park)

Last seen wearing a black coat

Drowned in salt water (found in fresh water)

Found in Lili Davies’s clothes

Four-minute walk from bus to home

Frequented Starbucks on Kedzie. Seven-minute walk to home.

LILI DAVIES (17 years old)

Parents = Dr. Randal Davies and Grace Davies

Best friend = Gabrielle Deegan

Attends Wilcox Academy (private) did not attend classes on 2/12

Last seen leaving for school (walking) morning of 2/12 @ 7:15 wearing a Perro red nylon diamond-quilted hooded parka, white hat, white gloves, dark jeans, and pink tennis shoes (all found on Ella Reynolds)

Most likely taken morning of 2/12 (on way to school)

Small window = 35 minutes (Left for school 7:15 a.m., classes start 7:50 a.m.)

School only four blocks from home

Not reported missing until after midnight (morning of 2/13)

Parents thought she went to work (art gallery) right after school (she didn’t do either)

FLOYD REYNOLDS

Wife: Leeann Reynolds

Insurance sales — works for UniMed America Healthcare

No debt? Per wife. Hosman checking

UNSUB

Possibly driving a gray pickup towing a water tank: 2011 Toyota Tundra

May work with swimming pools (cleaning or servicing)

Size 11 work boot print found — back of driver’s seat, Reynolds car (Lexus LS). Used for leverage?

ASSIGNMENTS:

Starbucks footage (1-day cycle?) — Kloz

Ella’s computer, phone, e-mail — Kloz

Lili’s social media, phone records, e-mail (phone and PC MIA) — Kloz

Enhance image of possible unsub entering park — Kloz

Park camera loosened? Check old footage — Kloz

Get make and model of truck from video? — Kloz

Clair and Sophie walk Lili’s route to school/talk to Gabrielle Deegan

Clair and Sophie visit gallery (manager = Ms. Edwins)

Put together a list of saltwater pools around Chicago via permits office — Kloz

Check out local aquariums and aquarium supply houses

Hosman to check debt on the Reynoldses

21

Porter

Day 2 • 12:18 p.m.

Porter needed a Big Mac.

Not only a Big Mac but a large fry, chocolate shake, and an apple pie for dessert.

He needed it so badly, the craving drove him to walk steadfast from his apartment, three blocks down Wabash, and directly into the nearest McDonald’s, which was hopping this time of day. He ordered, took his meal to a small table in the back, and devoured every bit. Seven minutes later, he found himself staring at an empty tray, his stomach still rumbling.

He desperately wanted to talk to Heather. The immense hole in his heart once filled by the sound of his wife’s voice burned.

Heather had been gone for six months now, and it felt like six thousand lifetimes. People told him he would heal with time, the hole would grow smaller, fill with other loves, with life lived. It hadn’t, though. Instead, the void only seemed to grow larger, and he found himself missing her more each day.

Heather understood. Heather listened.

Porter wanted to tell her about the past six months. He needed her advice. He needed the sound of her voice.

“You kept me from venturing down the rabbit hole, Button,” Porter said quietly. “Now I’m knee deep and sinking fast.”

Last month he canceled her cell phone service. Until then, he’d called her regularly, sometimes three or four calls in a day, just to hear her sweet voice on the other end of the line, enough distance to make it sound real, to make her sound real. Silly, he knew, but it was all he had. Her presence slowly faded from his life no matter how tight he held on. Her body may have died suddenly, but her spirit lingered. Porter held that spirit’s hand with all his might, unwilling to let go at first, finally coming to the realization that he had no other choice. That was the night he turned off her cell phone, and when he called her the next morning, it wasn’t her voice that answered but instead a robotic operator telling him the number was no longer in service. At that point, her hand slipped from his and she was gone.