Maximum Guilt (Hidden Guilt Book 2) (6 page)

BOOK: Maximum Guilt (Hidden Guilt Book 2)
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“So what do we have? What do we know about Stacy? She killed young girls because you have two of them. She wanted to scare you. I’m willing to bet your boy Sam is a sex offender,” De Luca said as she rapped the window with her fingers.

“Maybe. That’s good thinking. Call Fingers. Give him Wilson’s social, and let’s see what we can find out.”

Sometimes I felt like I shouldn’t being using Fingers as much as I did. I was torn. He had done some pretty bad things, all hacker-type shit, but he was a criminal nonetheless. Police officers all had informants, and to me that’s just what he was. Others on the force may have disagreed, but I wasn’t exactly broadcasting my use of him either. Besides, we had our own data analysts who were good, but Fingers was a tad better.

“See? You need me, David. I haven’t heard the full story, but I know she accuses you of being part of some hazing back in college. So you going to fill me in?” De Luca asked.

“Something like that. Yeah, I’ll break it down for you later. We’ll see about you being right on Wilson, too. Make the call.”

Bad news always spreads faster than good news. Some things never change. I didn’t mind De Luca tagging along at this point. I really didn’t care where the help came from. I had the same sneaking suspicion she did regarding Sam Wilson. After all, Stacy wasn’t exactly killing priests.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 8

 

“What did you find out about our vic?” I said when Fingers called me back.

De Luca tugged at my arm, trying to get me to put the call on speakerphone.

“Hey, David. Well, your guy Sam was a sex offender. He’d done some time for a DUI, too. Multiple rape cases. A few he did some short time for; a few he pleaded out. Looks like he worked as a fisherman most his life. Graduated from high school in ’91, no siblings. There’s more, but I’m not really sure what you’re looking for.”

“Told you!” De Luca said.

De Luca had been right; our guy was indeed a sex offender.

“What? Who’s that?” Fingers said.

I shook my head. “She’s with me. Don’t worry. Thanks Fingers. You told me exactly what I needed to hear.”

“What the hell did I tell you, tough guy?” De Luca said as I disconnected from Fingers. “So she’s targeting sex offenders. Probably feels like she’s doing the world a favor. Hell, if I wasn’t a cop, I’d probably do the same thing. Or something Catwoman-like, ya know?”

I laughed. “No, I don’t know exactly. So, cop or vigilante—those were you two options, eh?”

“Better than joining my family in the mob, right?”

“Too soon to tell if she’s targeting anyone, but I doubt this was random. And yeah, I guess Catwoman would be better than mobbing since we’re dealing in hypotheticals.”

“You going to tell me what you did to piss this girl off?”

There was a long silence between us. I didn’t like sharing the story. Most people would hear it and understand why I made the choice I did. Others, including some on the force, would demonize. I wasn’t sure which side of the fence De Luca would be on.

I frowned. “I wasn’t always a detective. There was a time when I was a stupid eighteen-year-old kid who didn’t know his head from his ass.”

“Yeah, we all had lives prior to joining the force. Just spit it out already.”

I told her everything—every ugly detail. After I finished, De Luca just sat there with a blank look on her face. I wasn’t sure how to read her reaction.

“So basically Stacy thinks you’re a monster who set her up to be gangbanged by the entire football team?”

“Pretty much. But we were both fooled. The upperclassmen used us so they could get a lay. I wish eighteen-year-old me would have had the balls to stand up to them. It’s not something I’m proud of.”

“Don’t beat yourself up. Sounds like a pretty stupid hazing gone wrong. Ain’t the first, won’t be the last. Most eighteen-year-olds in your position would have done exactly what you did—stand there and watch, even if it was cowardly.”

“Well thank you, Detective Big Balls
,
but it doesn’t really help any of us right now.”

“I do have one question though: if all of this was as innocent on your part as you make it seem, why didn’t you just come clean with her?”

“Two reasons. One, the school lawyered us up and told us not to talk to anyone about it. Secondly, she left school. Guess she didn’t want to deal with it. I did look for her—half-assed looked, anyway.”

With that out of the way, we could move on. I knew she had to ask, had to know, and I was okay with that. I was glad to get it off my chest.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 9

 

We knew Stacy was targeting sex offenders, but there were literally thousands in Louisiana. Same for most other states, for that matter. If I planned on catching her, I’d need more information, maybe a pattern of some sort. If she was smart I wouldn’t get one.

De Luca and I weren’t far from Sulphur now, only about thirty minutes out. Mentally I was already hitting fatigue, and I knew we were just getting started. The thought of her having Karen and knowing what she’d done to those other kids sent shivers down my spine. My entire career I’d done things as by-the-book as possible. At least I’d tried. There were a few times when I’d allowed my temper to get the best of me, but like a fine wine, I’d gotten better with age.

“So how do we get in front of her? What made her pick this guy out? Place like this, he couldn’t have been the only perv she found,” De Luca said.

“I don’t know. Maybe we’ll get lucky. Sadly, she might have to do this a few more times before we find a pattern . . . if one even exists.”

I saw our turn up ahead. We pulled into the trailer park and stopped as close to Sam Wilson’s gravel driveway as we could get. Only a few forensic folks remained. I’d asked Lafitte to have the team leave the body until I arrived. Lookie loos lined the street, all trying to catch a peek.

I turned my truck off and we climbed out. Someone needed to take control of this crime scene. There were way too many people way too close.

“Hey!”  A middle-aged woman wearing a holey T-shirt, minus a bra, approached the taped-off area.

I turned slowly to give her my full attention. I could already tell where this was going, and I didn’t like it.

“Yes ma’am, can I help you?”

She twirled her hair in her hand. “You a popo, huh?”

“If by
popo
you mean a police officer, then yes, I am.”

“I never trusted that guy. I told my husband he was a piece of shit. Turns out I was right.”

“Is there something he did to make you feel that way, ma’am?”

“Nope. Just a woman’s intuition and the way he looked at me. So was he a rapist? That’s what everybody’s sayin’.”

“I really can’t comment on that, ma’am. Did you see or hear anything last night?”

“Nope.”

I reached into my pocket. “Okay, well here’s my card. If you think of anything please give me a call. Sometimes people remember things when they stop thinking about it.”

We definitely weren’t in Kansas anymore, and these people were not Texans. It always amazed me that traveling a few hours in any direction from Houston could yield such differences in people. I doubted leaving her my card would do any good, but you never know. I wanted to end this thing with Stacy as quickly as possible.

As I walked closer to the trailer, my old buddy Lafitte appeared in the doorway.

Paul was almost my height, maybe an inch shorter, six two or something. It looked like he weighed around the same as he had when we were in the service together. It was also clear he was still spending a lot of time in the gym. Paul and I developed a forever friendship in the military that was as solid as any I had in my life. I’d die for Paul, and I was sure he felt the same way about me.

“David! You made it.”

We exchanged a man hug—you know . . . the quick, back-thumping kind. It was great to see my old friend. 

“Hey man! It’s good to see you! I wish it could be on better terms, but . . .”

Lafitte quickly turned his attention away from me and onto De Luca. “Who’s this beautiful lady you brought with you?”

Lafitte had always been a charmer. If there was a woman around, you’d better hide her or he’d sniff her out. Somehow he’d managed to sleep with three-fourths of the brass in our platoon back in our Army days.

“This is Detective Elena De Luca. She’s the newest detective on our force.”

“Well now, aren’t you just beautiful,” Lafitte said as he checked De Luca out.

De Luca reached out for a handshake, but Lafitte raised her fingers to his lips instead.

“Nice to meet you, Detective Lafitte. I should let you know that I don’t date cops. But I am flattered.”

She gave him her standard line, but I noticed the huge grin she could barely contain. Something about Paul had undoubtedly caught her attention. No big surprise there.

“I typically don’t date cops either, so I guess I’ll have to turn in my badge today. Give me a second; let me call my chief.”

He was half joking and half serious, I’m sure. De Luca laughed.

“So, I had my guys look into the account Stacy/Lisa created yesterday. What are we going to call her, anyway? We also asked around and found the motel she was staying in. We checked the security cameras. Come take a look. I had the video emailed over to me.”

The video showed Stacy and Karen arriving and entering a room. It then showed Stacy leaving alone at around eight p.m. She wouldn’t chance Karen waking while she was gone, so she’d probably drugged her. Then there’s footage of her returning a few hours later, undoubtedly after she’d killed Sam Wilson.

“So she kills Wilson, comes back to the room, cleans up, catches a few hours’ sleep, and at 4 a.m. she’s gone again?”

“Question is, where’s she headed next?” De Luca said.

“Anything turn up here that could help us narrow down where she’s headed, Lafitte? Any other cameras in that parking lot? Can we tell what she’s driving?”

“Not really. I mean, she ain’t trying to hide much.”

“What about the drink? What’s she using to drug people? We able to tell that from the vic?”

“We’ll find that out,” Lafitte said.

“I have a sick feeling we’ll hear from her again, sooner rather than later.”

“Hey, here’s the note she left you,” Lafitte said as he handed me the scrap of paper.

 

Be sure this gets to Detective Porter 713.555.1357

David,

You screwed me so now I’m screwing you. You may get bruised a little you won’t like it.

Love Stacy

 

“I’m going to call the office manager at the motel. I have a few questions I’d like to ask him. Did you happen to get his number, Paul?”

Lafitte handed me the office manager’s card: Binoy Ansari.
Okay, Mr. Ansari, let’s see how good your memory and attention to detail is.

I made the call and introduced myself.

“This is Binoy. Am I in some kind of trouble?”

“No, sir. I’m investigating a guest who stayed at your motel last night.”

“Ahh . . . the cute chick with the kid? Somebody want to tell me why she’s being investigated?”

“Binoy, listen closely. That cute chick is wanted for murder. Not one, but multiple. She’s dangerous, and we need to get her off the streets before she hurts someone else. That’s why I need your help.”

“Wow! I had no idea. How can I possibly help?”

“Are there other cameras that could have recorded her last night, other than the one you showed the detectives earlier today?”

“No, that’s the only one.”

“Is there anything you can think of that might help me, Binoy? Even the smallest detail might lead us in the right direction.”

“Not really. She was in and out really fast. Looking back, it was kind of odd how quickly she pushed me to get her checked in. And she was on a call with her sister, so I didn’t try to strike up a conversation.”

“Wait, her sister? How do you know she was talking to her sister?”

“I heard her say ‘listen little sister,’ like she was giving advice or scolding her or something. But again she was in and out quickly, and I only heard one side of the conversation.”

“Thanks for your time, Binoy. I’ll be in touch.”

I always tried to get at least one piece of intel from every witness or person I talked to when I was investigating a case. My call to Binoy had paid off. Stacy, as it appeared, had a sister. Or someone she referred to as “little sister.” On top of that, they were in direct contact with each other. Maybe finding this sister would be easy enough, and she could tell us where Stacy was headed.

 

 

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