Homecoming Homicides (8 page)

Okay, this director could take her job and shove it. Flippy rose to go. She had tried to make things right. She’d spent a year wearing a crown that didn’t rightfully belong to her. She had even taken the job as homecoming pageant director in the next pageant to try to set things straight. To give back. She should have known people had long memories. Now this serial killer was on the loose, and all the rumors were swirling around in the universe. She’d wanted to remain in the background and now she
was
the story—again. Not the place for a PR person to be.

“Where are you going, Miss Tannenbaum?” Flippy hadn’t realized she’d left her seat and was halfway to the door.

She turned to face the director, red-faced.

“If you think I had anything to do with—”

“Of course I don’t. I know you didn’t. The former director of the campus police was looking for a scapegoat because he couldn’t do his job, and that’s why they brought me in. I deal in facts, Miss Tannenbaum, not fiction.”

Not exactly a glowing endorsement, but the director’s support offered a glimmer of hope.

“All I want is a chance, a chance to do this job I know I can do, to...make things right.”

“And I want to give you that chance, so take a seat and let’s get on with the interview.”

Flippy slipped back into her chair across from the director, submitting once again to her iron gaze. This woman could give Maggie Thatcher a run for her money.

They skirted over the train wreck of her paltry six days in law school while she was trying to find her way. But from then on, the director gave Flippy every opportunity. She’d started out as the campus police Victim’s Advocate, where she learned a lot about being the victim. And once the pageant contestants started turning up dead, she wanted on the high profile Homecoming Homicides Task Force being formed by the campus police, the city police, and the FBI.

It was her chance to redeem herself, to prove she could do the job, that she wasn’t just some brainless beauty queen trading off her looks, that she had something more valuable than a pretty face to contribute. If the man who had killed Melinda was killing again, she wanted to be front and center in the effort to find him and put him away so he could never hurt anyone again.

“If I place you on the task force, you’re going to get thrown right back into the fire. You know that, don’t you?” the director had warned. “Another dead homecoming queen turns up and you are thrown into the mix—again. People will talk.”

“I can handle that,” Flippy assured her. And she would handle it. She’d have to face her demons, survive the glare of the spotlight on her own time, but if she could live through that trial by fire, if she could come out unblemished, she could finally live with herself. So far, so good, until she had received a second summons today.

A secretary ushered Flippy into Director Beckham’s office.

“Sit down, Miss Tannenbaum, and stop looking so worried. Despite what you might have heard, I am not a vampire. I don’t bite.”

“No ma’am,” said Flippy, digging into the skin underneath her fingernails.

The director may not bite, but she was not about to let Flippy off the hook on task force business.

“What are people saying about the investigation and how it’s going?”

Flippy hesitated. She could hardly tell the director the truth, that the media and people all over the country were wondering why the campus police department was in charge, and how they felt the police were impeding the investigation.

“Um, that we’re making progress.” Flippy could hardly meet the director’s gaze.

The director raised her eyebrows in doubt.

“That’s a PR answer if I ever heard one. How’s that campus-turned-city cop Luke Slaughter doing?” It made Flippy think of the Country Mouse/City Mouse story she’d read as a child.

“What did he say about me?” Flippy demanded. She knew she sounded defensive, but she didn’t trust Luke Slaughter, especially not now.

“This isn’t kindergarten, Philippa. We’re not playing He Said, She Said. We all have to play nice in the Serial Killer Sandbox. I want to know what the city is saying about the way we’re handling the investigation. I know you and Luke Slaughter are close.”

Flippy’s eyes widened. What didn’t this woman know about her personal life? Was their one-night stand documented in her personnel file?

“We’re friends,” Flippy objected. “
Were
friends.” Flippy decided to tell the truth. She didn’t have anything to lose at this point.

“Chief Bradley says the campus police department is overstepping, that while the girls were dumped on campus, they were killed in the city, so it’s their case.”

“We have no proof of that.”

“He wants us to step down. The FBI wants to take complete control of the case, and the City of Graysville says they want the lead in working with the FBI.”

“And?”

“And Luke Slaughter says that a beauty queen has no business being on this case.”

“I want my seat at the table,” the director said. “You are my representative. You absolutely
do
belong on this task force. You were tailor-made for this task force for any number of reasons. I fought to get you on there and I’ll fight to see that you stay. But you have to do your part. My ass is on the line and so is the university’s reputation. No parent is ever going to send their daughter to this school again if we can’t catch this killer. We’ve already had dozens of girls drop out this semester. I want to make sure you can handle this new assignment, Philippa, or do I need to bring in someone more seasoned? The FBI is making noises about bringing in some of their people to handle press relations.”

“No!” Flippy protested. “I can handle it. I will handle it. No matter what that snake Luke Slaughter says.”

“I’m not interested in what Luke Slaughter has to say. I am interested in solving this case before the university president has my job. If that happens, then your job will be in jeopardy. I don’t intend to be his or anyone’s sacrificial lamb. You need to get this clusterfuck under control. I’m going to give you one more week—one week to set things straight, to get this investigation back on track, to reign in the media vultures. If that means working with Luke Slaughter to get that accomplished, well, suck it up and do it.”

“One week. Director, ma’am, I can do that.”

“Talk to your
friend
Officer Slaughter and tell him to stop sabotaging our case. We’re supposed to be working together. Do whatever you have to do to get through to him. Neutralize him. Sweet talk him. Sleep with him if you have to.”

Flippy looked at the director and her mouth flew open. The woman had eyes in the back of her head, but maybe she was psychic, too. Or maybe she’d been having her employees followed, to bars and back to their bedrooms.

“You know I was kidding about that last part,” the director said, eyebrows raised, offering a hint of a smile. “Just don’t let Luke Slaughter know I think Chief Bradley is a conceited SOB who doesn’t have the experience to run a case of this magnitude. He’s out of his league. Cowboy thinks he can skate by on his good looks and pseudo country-boy charm. Sucker tried to pick me up when I first got to town. I set him straight. He says he was just a lonely widower in need of companionship. I think he’s just horny. But we’re stuck with him, with both of them. So make it work.”

“I have Luke Slaughter under control,” Flippy assured her boss with a confidence she didn’t really feel.

“See that you do. I know I’m throwing you in at the deep end, but I am taking a chance on you. Don’t let me down. That’s all. Now about this parents’ meeting. Are you up to that? Or do you want me to handle it?”

“I assure you, I’ll be up to speed and ready to handle it.”

“I don’t like this idea of dueling press conferences. Everyone’s releasing conflicting statements, the FBI, the city, us, the families. And meanwhile, no one is solving this case. And that bozo Bradley just hired a psychic detective agency from Atlanta to consult on our case. I’ve never heard of anything so idiotic. He’s obviously desperate if he has to resort to woo-woo tactics. I want you to find out what they’re up to and report back to me.”

“Of course,” Flippy said.

For the past week, Flippy had boned up on the case. She was as ready as she’d ever be. If Luke Slaughter didn’t get in her way.

Chapter Six

Flippy felt their pain before she even entered the room. It was a palpable sorrow, pulsing like an irregular heartbeat, coating the room like an eerie mist from the underworld.

She ventured a look inside. Relatives of the dead, missing, and living pageant contestants were gathered in the break room of the Graysville police station. It was standing room only. Just thinking about those girls made her already queasy stomach clench.

Steeling herself as she entered, she shook hands with Will Bradley, chief of the Graysville Police Department. When she did, she had to look up. The chief was tall and built like a Mack truck. The director was right. He was a handsome devil, and so was the handsome devil, in the persona of Luke Slaughter, who stayed close on her heels.

“Thanks for coming, Philippa, Luke,” said the chief, who directed a cordon of city police officers to tighten protectively around the silent wall of mourners. Flippy wished someone had thought to order flowers to soften the atmosphere. Just a small tribute to show how much the department cared.

“Glad to be on board,” Flippy replied.

Chief Bradley directed their attention to a couple standing a few feet away.

“Philippa Tannenbaum, Luke Slaughter, I’d like you to meet Jack Hale and Crystal Ball Kate—I mean, Katherine Hale, Jack’s wife. I’m sure you’ve read about them in the papers. They just formed the Crystal & Hale Psychic Detective Agency in Atlanta. The mayor has authorized me to bring them on board to consult with the task force.”

Flippy offered her hand to Jack Hale, who greeted her warmly. Luke gave Jack a perfunctory handshake and inclined his head toward Katherine, saying, “Ma’am.”

Flippy also turned to Katherine, who grasped her hand in both of hers. The famous psychic’s eyes were a startling shade of violet, just like they were on television. But up close, they were even more arresting, and they met hers and locked in. Then she drew back and dropped Flippy’s hand like she’d been scalded.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Jack asked his wife, who had paled and looked like she was going to faint.

“What do you see?” he demanded.

Katherine was staring at Flippy as if she could see straight through her.

“A fire,” Katherine answered. “I see a fire. And she’s there. We need to keep her close, Jack. She’s in danger.”

Chief Bradley interceded and turned to Katherine.

“What do you mean?”

“She’s the key to your case, Chief Bradley. She’s the one he wants.”

“The killer wants Philippa?” Luke asked, shifting his stance and rubbing his chin.

“Yes.” Katherine seemed very sure.

The chief looked like he didn’t know what to make of this new development. Luke leaned down and whispered into Flippy’s ear, “Mumbo jumbo, nothing to worry about.”

“I learned the hard way never to discount my wife’s feelings,” Jack advised. “She made a believer out of me. And she’s rarely wrong. I’d put a guard on Miss Tannenbaum 24/7 until we catch this monster.”

“What does she have to do with this case?” Katherine asked.

“Philippa was first runner-up on the homecoming court last year when the homecoming queen was murdered,” said the chief.

Katherine shuddered and focused her unwavering gaze on Flippy. “I see blood. A lot of blood. The man you’re looking for is out there. He’s close. He has access, and he wants you. And I’m afraid he’ll…” Katherine looked at the chief. “You’d better protect her. He’s not done killing. He’s just getting started. He’s getting off on it, and he won’t stop until he has Philippa. She will lead you to him.”

Chief Bradley turned to Luke. “You heard the lady. From now on, you’re on her 24/7. When she breathes in, you breathe out. Y’all hearin’ me?”

“But Chief Bradley,” Luke protested. “Are you going to listen to a bunch of—”

Chief Bradley cut him off. “Do your job, Slaughter. Or you’ll be out of one.”

Luke frowned and turned to Katherine.

“All due respect, Ms. Hale. You just met Flippy, so how can you know anything about her? True, you two have a track record, but I’m having trouble believing you just had this vision and, all of a sudden, we have the key to our investigation? Things just don’t work out that way. It takes methodical police work to solve a case.”

The chief stepped in before Katherine could reply. “Slaughter, the mayor saw fit to hire a psychic detective agency, and we are not going to ignore their advice. How many cases have you solved in the past year?”

Luke’s face colored.

“And don’t you go doubtin’ their abilities. My mama has the sixth sense, sure as I’m standin’ here. You learn to listen. She predicted that my sainted wife would meet an untimely death. I should have protected her. I didn’t do my job, and now she’s gone. She was the light of my life. I’m not makin’ that mistake twice.”

“Maybe your mama can solve this case,” Luke muttered under his breath.

“You have something to say, Officer Slaughter?”

“No, Chief.” Luke stared at the concrete floor.

“Good, because I know you don’t want to go back to handin’ out parking tickets.”

“No, sir, Chief, sir.”

Flippy ventured a look at Luke and smothered a grin. Then she scanned the audience, which was growing restless.

Chief Bradley stepped up to the podium. First he introduced Jack and Katherine, and a hushed silence fell over the crowd. Their swift work on the Sydney Strangler case was legendary.

“I want to assure you that we are doin’ everything we can to solve this case. Whatever means we have in this world or the next. We are going to bring this killer to justice. Don’t y’all doubt that.”

Flippy blew out a breath as the chief addressed the crowd and looked at her expectantly, stepping aside to clear a space at the lectern and motioning her forward. Luke escorted her to the podium.

Before entering the break room at the station, Flippy had thumbed through the homecoming pageant booklet. Of course her eyes had gravitated toward pictures of the dead girls first. And then they lingered on the photo of one of the Tri Delt girls, the missing girl, Traci Farris, her Little Sister in the sorority. That hit hardest. And left the worst taste in her mouth. And it wasn’t from the greasy doughnut she’d thrown up that morning. If she could just get back the day she made the chicken soup. She had forgiven Traci, at least in her own mind. Jack wasn’t worth it. But Traci had gone missing before Flippy had had a chance to tell her she wasn’t going to hold a grudge.