Skye Cree 02: The Bones Will Tell (25 page)

S
kye and Josh met up in a conference room on the third floor of the Cherry Street police station. As they waited for Harry, Josh noticed how edgy Skye was.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m dying to know who it is. After he went through our home, I’m in no mood to play twenty questions at this point or wait for Harry to get here.”

“Leo, Reggie, and Winston used every waking hour to scan millions of faces. It finally paid off.” Josh removed a copy of a photo that looked like it came from the DMV.
“Prime suspect. Frank De Palo, Jr. Twenty-nine, grew up in San Caruso, California.”

“Never heard of it.”

“Some little coastal town down in Monterey County, south of San Francisco. And get this. Believe it or not, De Palo came from a prominent family with several million in the bank due to old money, that and the ranch land that’s been in his family for over a century. It means Frank has unlimited funds at his disposal to—”

“To disappear,” Skye finished. “Crap. That’s all we need is for the bastard to run. So give me the rest. I’m no good at this waiting game. I want to know what you know. Start at the beginning. I want to hear this Frank De Palo’s life story.”

“It’s fairly colorful. But let’s start with the immediate. De Palo lives one block over from the loft. That’s right, our loft, in his very own upscale digs. The guy’s worth millions, Skye. His parents, Frank Sr. and Elena, still own the ranch land that’s been in the family for generations. They also own an extensive string of San Caruso businesses, real estate, and part of a brokerage house in San Francisco. The family even has a wing of the local hospital named after the grandfather, Vincenzo De Palo.”

“Where did all this money come from?”

“Vincenzo immigrated to California from Italy in 1901. Once they go to America, the family settled in San Francisco. Then a couple of years later they made their way down to San Caruso where they somehow managed to buy land and a lot of it. At one point, they practically owned the town. They branched out, tried their hand at ranching and apparently made a killing at supplying beef to the railroad workers.”

“A multi-millionaire serial killer?
Unbelievable.”

“And then some,” Josh said. “Even though his family could’ve easily sent him to any college in the country, Harvard was begging for him, Frank ended up staying local. Stanford offered him a full wrestling scholarship. ”

“An athlete?”

“I’ll get to that in a minute. But yeah, it looks like he’s able to leap six-foot-tall fences in a single bound.”

“I’m liking this guy more and more as our killer.”

“There’s a lot more to Frank. He isn’t just physically fit. He was also considered a whiz kid early on. His placement tests put his IQ off the charts. In high school his teachers deemed him genius material and then in college the same thing. His professors were impressed and echoed that assessment all through his files. A bit of an oddity though. That too, was noted. According to the university database we cracked—he breezed through his core classes, sailed through his major, which ended up being chemistry—to graduate college in three years. He was twenty at the time and was immediately offered employment at a pharmaceutical company as a junior chemist—in Portland.”

“Portland? I knew it. Please tell me this guy was there at the time of the Towson and Valencia murders.”

“He was. Work records put him there for the next three years after college. He stays put in Portland where, between his job and whatever other unusual interests Frank has, he earned a master’s degree in biomolecular science from Oregon State.”

Josh stopped, noticed the expression on Skye’s face. “I told you the guy was smart. But add to that, he has an attitude problem, a major one. The pharmaceutical company canned him because he couldn’t get along with his co-workers, or management, mainly his immediate supervisor who claimed Frank was arrogant as hell and refused to listen to anyone else’s ideas. Frank’s yearly reviews—which the team managed to locate online and disseminate—show a guy with no ability whatsoever to get along with anyone.”

“I’m beginning to love this super team of yours.”

Josh nodded. “Leo, Winston, and Reggie are rock solid and so is the info they crack. Give them enough time and they can hack anything, get at any type of info.”

“I believe it. What else did they come up with?”

“Frank’s employment records indicate that at times he would simply go off periodically on his own tangents. Prodigy or not, he couldn’t complete many of his assigned projects, deadlines would come and go, during which time Frank would get more irrational, and illogical.”

“That says major loner to me.
Fits the profile.”

“Yeah, but there’s more, a lot more.
And here’s where it gets interesting. After they let him go in Portland, he relocated to Seattle where he took up Mixed Martial Arts or what’s commonly known as simply, MMA. He started out fighting locally, soundly won his weight division, moved up to regionals and onto nationals. Up and down the West Coast, Frank De Palo is known as a bit of a celebrity in the sport.”

Skye’s mouth fell open. “So we have our local celebrity athlete theory confirmed. That’s why he wears that creepy mask. Well, other than the fright factor so he can scare the bejesus out of his victims. He’s afraid someone will see his face and recognize it.”

“Right again. But get this? In high school De Palo was known on the San Caruso high school wrestling team as ‘Terrier.’ That was Frank’s handle because he wouldn’t quit or back down no matter how big his opponent happened to be on or off the mat. Reggie found a former teammate listed online, started emailing him. The friend remembered one night in their sophomore year when the wrestlers all got drunk and got tattoos on their upper arms, tattoos representing their nicknames.”

Skye gaped right before she started laughing. “Do you realize that means Janie Holliman’s son knew what he was talking about? Who would believe that so far our best witness has been a little three-year-old boy? David was right on the money about the picture of the dog that night.”

“Who knew? I guess we’re learning to accept the clues we get no matter where they come from. And I found out a little bit about Frank’s home life back in California.”

Skye narrowed her eyes. “While I was gone you and your team talked to the neighbors without me?”

“I didn’t. Not yet anyway. But I sent one of the members of the team down to San Caruso yesterday for a road trip and scouting expedition. Leo’s still there. Don’t look at me like that. While you were busy rehabbing your relationship with Travis, which you needed to do for both of you, I had this.”

She huffed out a frustrated breath knowing he was throwing her words back at her. “Travis and I spent most of yesterday on the phone, sorting out a few more things from the past. I got sidetracked. But just because you’re right, doesn’t mean I’m not upset that you did all this without me.”

“How does it feel to be shut out of a plan, Skye?” Josh pointed out.

She made a face. “Okay. I guess I deserved that. I get your point. What else did this Leo find out?”

“So far, Leo’s talked to people around the little town who knew Frank as a kid. People the guy grew up with, classmates, longtime business owners, neighbors who knew the parents, that sort of thing. He found out Frank was raised in a very strict environment by doting parents, especially his mother. Not saying either one is a bad thing or something that turns a person like Frank into a serial killer. Parents are allowed to spoil their kids. But when you combine an overly-protective mother with her over-the-top strict, church environment—”

“How ‘over the top’ are we talking about?”

“Extraordinary. His mother made sure he went to what this group called, ‘indoctrination camp’ where each summer the kids in the congregation would spend time learning the guidelines to stay on the straight and narrow. For three months while he was out of school, Frank acted as a counselor. Not a bad plan to keep kids engaged and busy. But some of the town thought this particular group went a lot too far. The extreme side was a little too radical for most of the residents in San Caruso.”

“Okay, so maybe the obsessive-compulsive took a detour with fanatical influences from dear old mom’s group. Could this be the reason he hates women?” Skye wanted to know. “You have only to look at the crime scenes, the photos, to know he can’t stand females.”

“You’ve got a point,” Josh said.

“Mom’s group sounds a little like the same kind of church Aunt Ginny and Uncle Bob dragged me to every time the doors opened.”

“I don’t think so. This group was led by a guy named Jasper March, who called himself, ‘the divine one.’ According to some of the neighbors Leo spoke with, Mrs. De Palo pretty much thought Jasper walked on water.”

“You’re kidding? That sounds almost like a cult?”

“Exactly. And who do you think contributed the most to Jasper’s coffers on a regular basis?”

“Mr. and Mrs. De Palo.
But Josh, if Leo found all this out from the people in town in such a short amount of time, are you sure this is all fact? I mean, are you sure the residents don’t have some kind of axe to grind against the De Palos.”

“I thought of that. Maybe a little of both, I imagine. Some of what Leo found out is a little hard to believe.”

“Like what?”

“Like the fact Jasper made up his own lingo to use in his sermons to the congregation.”

“You mean like speaking in tongues?”

Josh nodded. “Using their own made-up dialect it seems this” divine one” believed in retribution, and preached regularly about the end of the world. And that his followers should do everything to get ready for it. They made up some of their own edicts along the way and preached no tolerance for the consumption of alcohol or drugs in any form. That includes any type of over-the-counter medicines.”

“Wait. You said Frank got drunk one night. Doesn’t sound like his indoctrination took for real.”

“Typical teenage rebellion.
Probably.”

“I still say parts of that group sound a lot like Ginny and Bob.”

Josh gave her a disbelieving stare, ran a hand through his hair. “I guess in some way I can understand your anger at Travis then. Because what you went through with those people must’ve been—”

“Over-the-top?
Extreme? Yeah, it was. And then some. But as you said, I’ll have to learn to deal with it to put all of it where it belongs—in the past—because it’s ancient history. I need to remember that and move on. So, De Palo is raised by a woman who dragged him to this place where “the divine one” routinely taught him that retribution was the norm. That it was just a matter of time before the world ended and he’d better be ready to ante up. I’m beginning to think that kind of setting and experiences contributed to his hating women. Somehow.” Skye shrugged when she noted the look in Josh’s eyes. “You’ve seen what he does to their faces. It isn’t a leap in logic. You add it all up, you have a wealthy nutcase, who thinks he’s entitled for some reason. It might explain a few things.”

“No argument there. But during his stint at Stanford, Frank got bored with his chemistry curriculum and began taking a slew of criminal science courses.”

About that time, Harry came through the door, catching the last part of the conversation. “Wanted to be a cop, did he? Well, that pretty much fits the profile, too. I got your email, Josh. Thanks for the heads up. Sorry I kept you both waiting. But it seems your prime suspect, Frank De Palo, is indeed a mental case, officially. When he was sixteen he got into some serious trouble with a female classmate.”

“Rape?”
Skye frowned. “Our boy started young.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Harry stated. “His victim, a fifteen-year-old cheerleader accused him of rape all right.
But with a twist. She said De Palo beat her senseless when all she did was question his taste in movies. Bashed her face in so badly, he put that girl in a coma for several weeks afterward. When she finally woke up, and her parents learned who was responsible they insisted on pressing charges. But on the other end of the spectrum, Frank’s parents thought the girl was simply going after the rich boy in town out of spite. They didn’t believe her.”

“So De Palo did time?” Skye asked, sending Josh an incredulous look. “You didn’t get to that part yet.”

Josh shook his head. “That’s because De Palo didn’t. He bypassed jail time due to mommy’s and daddy’s influence in the San Caruso community along with several glowing recommendations from Jasper March, Frank’s Sunday school teachers, and camp sponsors. No less than ten upstanding citizens wrote the judge about what a terrific young man Frank was at the time—some bullshit about what a great youth counselor he’d been—what a terrific role model to the younger members of this congregation he was. To make sure their little darling didn’t end up in prison, his parents agreed to a stint inside a cushy, private psyche ward.”

“You mean like rehab?” Skye noted.

“That’s exactly right,” Harry replied, tossing a file folder on the conference table. “He stayed there four lousy months and fell off the radar. At some point though his parents, Elena and Frank De Palo Sr., must’ve known their pride and joy was a little off.”