The Lawyer's Lawyer (3 page)

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Authors: James Sheehan

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T
he young man’s name was Thomas Felton and he lived in an apartment on Arthur Road. Luckily, he happened to be home when they
came to visit.

“I talked to a police officer the other day,” he told them after inviting them in. “What’s this about?”

Although he was pushing back a little, he didn’t appear angry or defensive.
Anybody would ask that question
, Danni told herself as she studied the details of his face and compared them to the sketch that Stacey had helped them come
up with. He was slim, his nose was straight, and his lips were thin, but that’s where the resemblance ended. His eyes were
green, his brown hair was short and straight, and he was clean-shaven.
It could have been a disguise
, Danni surmised, not ready to let him go on appearances alone.
After all, the perp was wearing a fake cast.

“What do
you
think it’s about?” Peterson asked.

“I don’t know. The other two guys who were here asked me questions about Utah, so I assume it has something to do with Utah
and here.”

“Anything else?” Danni persisted.

“Well, the only thing I can think of was that there were some female students murdered in Utah when I was there, and the same
thing is now happening here.”

He said it nonchalantly, not a bit ill at ease. A guilty person would probably not make such an honest and open analysis to
the police, she thought, although it would have had to be a calculation in anybody’s mind.
Maybe he’s smart enough to know that. Maybe he’s a little too relaxed.

“Well?” Peterson asked.

“Well what? It’s true I was in both places. But I went to undergraduate school in Utah and law school here. That’s not unusual,
is it?”

“I don’t know,” Peterson replied. “Why did you go all the way across the country?”

“Money, mostly. I came here a year ago and established residency. In-state tuition is a lot cheaper here. Besides, the law
school is good and I like the climate.”

“Ever been arrested?” Allan asked. It was a good question to just throw out there to test Felton’s reaction. He didn’t react
at all.

“I was arrested once when I was fifteen. They took me down to the station, booked me and everything, and then they found out
it was a mistake and let me go.”

“Where was this?”

“Idaho, where I grew up.”

“That it?”

“That’s it.”

Danni made a mental note to check on the arrest record and to compare the in-state tuition rates as she scanned the apartment.
It was very clean and orderly and tastefully furnished in autumn tones—browns, oranges, reds—that gave the place a warm feeling.
Several framed Monet prints hung on the wall—not a typical student’s apartment or even a typical Florida home.

“You live here alone?” she asked, her eyes noting that there appeared to be two bedrooms. One door was open, the other shut.

“Yeah,” he said, offering no explanation for the second bedroom.

“You wear contacts?” Peterson asked. Danni cringed at the question.
Why did he ask that?
She forgot about it, however, when her eyes spied a knife on display on a bookshelf in the living room. It was ornate with
a curved black pearl handle and a long thin blade, perhaps from the Middle East. Danni picked it up and studied it.

“It’s a nice piece, isn’t it?” Felton asked as he walked toward her.

“It’s unique. Are you a collector?”

“No. That was my father’s. He died when I was young. It’s one of the few things of his that I have.”

As he started to walk away, Danni reached into the small purse she carried with her. A cigarette case fell from the purse
right at Felton’s feet. He politely picked it up and handed it to her.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome.”

They left minutes later. Danni had wanted to look around the entire apartment but Felton denied the request. He did it pleasantly
and politely just as the two detectives probably would have done themselves if it had been their home. As a law student, he
probably knew they had no basis for a search warrant.

“I didn’t know you carried a purse,” Peterson said as they walked toward the car.

“I don’t,” she replied.

Peterson was confused. “And I didn’t know you smoked either.”

“I don’t.”

Peterson was so confused now, his face was visibly contorted. Danni relieved his stress by reaching into the purse and pulling
out a plastic baggie. The cigarette case was inside the baggie.

“Now we have a fresh set of prints in case we ever need them,” she said.

Peterson gave her an understanding smile even though he didn’t approve of her tactics.

“What was the contacts question about?” she asked when they were in the car and driving away.

“Well, the girl said the killer had blue eyes. His were green. The only possible explanation for the change in color would
be contacts. Why?”

“Just what you said,” Danni replied. “The only possible explanation for a change in eye color would be contacts. You may have
tipped him to the fact that we have a description.”

“Come on, will you, Danni? Give me a break. Whoever our killer is knows that his most recent victim got away. Therefore, he
knows, or at least he has to assume, that we have some type of a description. Asking Mr. Felton, who, by the way, I believe
had nothing to do with these murders, if he wore contacts does not give away anything.”

“You’re probably right about that, but I’m not ready to abandon this guy as a suspect. Did you see that knife?”

“Yeah. It’s nothing like the knife we’re looking for.”

“Maybe he’s a knife collector. Maybe he’s got other knives in that second bedroom.”

“That’s a long shot.”

“I know, but if we’re ever going to catch this guy, we’re going to have to start making some educated guesses and going with
hunches because he’s not leaving any evidence behind.”

“Hunches get you nowhere,” Peterson said. “Somewhere along the way he’ll make a mistake. You watch.”

“I hope you’re right.”

S
tacey wasn’t happy with her parents’ decision to take her out of school and back to St. Petersburg with them, but she understood.
Before she left, she’d had a long conversation with Detective Jansen.

“Your parents are making the right decision,” Danni had told her. “I have a daughter who is only ten years old, but I don’t
want her living here. If I could send her away, I would. Your parents have no choice after what happened to you.

“I know it seems like the end of the world, but we’ll catch this guy soon and you’ll be back here before you know it.”

Stacey had just nodded, but as the days went by, she’d thought about what Danni had said. It made sense so she decided to
accept her parents’ decision and not be angry with them. Besides, she still had a lot of friends back home who were going
to the junior college, and there were plenty of opportunities for fun.

Saturday night always brought a party and tonight’s party was on Snell Isle at one of the estates on the water. Stacey was
standing on the seawall talking to Jason, whose last name she couldn’t remember. Jason had been a few years ahead of her in
high school, and she’d had a crush on him for the longest time. Now he was finally paying attention to her, and she wasn’t
all that interested.

She had walked out to the seawall to be alone for a few minutes. The grounds were so large she could hardly hear the revelers
inside. Jason had followed her a short time later. It was a little awkward since they really didn’t know each other that well.
Jason thought the conversation might go a little more smoothly if alcohol was involved.

“Can I get you a beer?” he asked.

“Sure. Make it a light beer.”

He’d been gone only a few seconds when someone else showed up—a tall thin guy with short black hair. Stacey didn’t recognize
him from school or the neighborhood.

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” the new guy said.

“Yeah,” Stacey replied. “This is perfect Florida weather.”

“Especially out here away from the crowd and the lights. You can really see the stars out here.”

“Too bad there’s no moon,” Stacey added.

“Having no moon makes it perfect,” he said as he inched closer to her. “I just wish I had the luxury of taking my time with
you.”

Stacey was puzzled by the remark. As she turned toward him, she started to understand too late. He was next to her now, plunging
the knife deep into her belly while capping her mouth with his left hand. The second stab penetrated her chest right into
her heart.

“Not so tough tonight, are you, honey?” he said as her body sagged to the ground.

 

As he walked toward the seawall with two bottles of beer in his hand, Jason wondered where the hell Stacey had gone. Had she
ditched him already? He didn’t identify the large dark object lying in the grass until he was upon it. He saw the bulging
eyes first, then the mouth agape, and the blood…He dropped the beers and opened his own mouth to scream, but no sound came
out. His mind told him to turn and run, but his legs wouldn’t move.

D
anni was up early on Sunday morning making sandwiches and packing the cooler. She and Hannah were going to Whiskey River Springs
for the day. They both needed it. Danni hadn’t taken any time off in a month, and some days she worked round the clock. Thank
God her sister Mary was a stay-at-home mom and was willing to watch Hannah. Otherwise, Danni would have had to quit her job.

Hannah was a little lost without her mother around constantly correcting her, keeping her in line, and loving her to death.
Dad lived in town but he was usually “tied up” with work or, worse yet, a new woman. Whiskey River Springs was Hannah and
her mom’s special place. They’d swim and hike and just hang out together. They almost weren’t mom and daughter at the Springs.
They were girlfriends.

The doorbell rang as Danni was filling the cooler with ice. She first checked to make sure she had her gun.

“Who is it?” she called out from a distance. Hannah was still asleep, but it didn’t matter. Even if she were awake, the rule
these days was that Mommy always answered the door. Hannah was never alone in the house.

“It’s me—Allan.”

Even though she recognized the voice, Danni looked through the peephole to be sure. Maybe she was overly cautious, but whoever
the murderer was, he knew she was on the case. And if he took her out, her daughter was defenseless. She finally opened the
door.

“I don’t care what you’ve got, I’m not going with you. Hannah and I need this day.”

“I’m not going to take you away from your day. I just have some bad news,” Allan said.

“What is it?” she asked impatiently. She had no idea what was coming.

“Stacey Kincaid is dead. The St. Petersburg police contacted us early this morning. She was at a party and apparently went
for a walk on the seawall. Some boy found her. She was stabbed twice: once in the abdomen, once in the chest.”

Danni felt like she had been stabbed in the chest herself. It was a totally different experience to find out about the murder
of someone you knew. Danni had taken Stacey under her wing and given her motherly advice. They hadn’t known each other that
long or that well, but they had touched. She didn’t want to show her emotion though, at least not to Allan, although she could
tell he understood that this was different.

“Anything we can use?” she asked.

“Nothing. Nobody saw anything and there was nothing at the scene but the body.”

“It’s him though. Had to be. She was his loose end.”

“No doubt about it,” Allan replied.

 

Danni’s mood had dissipated somewhat by the time she and Hannah reached Whiskey River Springs. It was partially her own attitude
adjustment and partially the springs themselves.

As for her attitude adjustment, Danni only needed to remind herself that every one of those victims had a mother and father,
relatives, friends, and acquaintances who loved and cared for them dearly. The difference between Stacey and the others was
that she, Danni, had been one of Stacey’s acquaintances and not just the investigating officer. Danni had to put her personal
feelings aside and do for Stacey exactly what she had to do for those other girls and for future victims: Find the murdering
bastard who killed them and who would kill again.

The other part of her mood change was Whiskey River Springs. Set outside the town of White Springs in northern Apache County,
the underground springs were one of the many natural wonders of Florida that tourists who stayed on the main drag would never
see. This was farm and ranch country, where the cypress, pine, and great oak, their branches littered with Spanish moss, sheltered
and protected their hidden jewels, the spring-fed Suwannee, Ichetucknee, Crystal, and Santa Fe Rivers that meandered across
the interior landscape of north central Florida like the fingers of a giant celestial hand.

Whiskey River Springs was actually a series of underground springs that fed the Santa Fe. You could rent a tube and float
down the river from one spring to another, which Danni and Hannah often did, or you could just lounge at one spring as they
were doing on this particular day.

Hannah at ten was like a fish in the water. Danni and Mike, Hannah’s father, had put her in lessons before she was a year
old and it had paid off. She loved the water, especially the springs.

“How did they get here?” she had asked Danni not so long ago.

It was a teachable moment that Danni luckily was prepared for. “The springs have been here for thousands of years, honey.”
She told her daughter how ordinary rainwater over thousands of years had carved out underground caverns and caves in the limestone.
“As the water travels in these caves and caverns, it has to come out somewhere. The springs are where it comes out.”

They always carried goggles, and Danni had shown Hannah where the caverns were in each one of the springs. “Promise me you’ll
never swim in there.”

“I promise, Mommy.”

Danni had firsthand knowledge of both the danger and the spectacular nature of the caves and caverns of these particular springs.
She was a certified scuba diver, and she and Mike had explored these caverns years ago before Hannah was born and before she
discovered that Mike was one of those assholes who needed more than one woman to satisfy his needs. She kept forgiving him
and letting him come back home until finally he’d left her for a woman ten years her junior. There was no coming back after
that, and the experience had soured her on men in general.

Hannah’s promise not to explore the caverns was enough for Danni. On this day, after about an hour of swimming in the crystal
clear water, which was a constant seventy-two degrees year round, Danni retired to her beach chair to read while Hannah continued
to play.

The springs were literally holes in the ground that you had to walk down into, and stairs had been constructed for that purpose.
The cedar, the oak, and the pine formed a canopy above so that very little direct sunlight filtered in. Again, it was a Florida
the ordinary tourist would never see.

Danni left her book every once in a while and walked over to the springs and looked down on her daughter who was having a
ball. She had found a girl her age to play with.

While Danni was sitting in her beach chair reading and relaxing for the first time in months, her cell phone rang.

“Hello.”

“You lost your only witness, didn’t you?” the voice on the other end said.

“Who is this?”

“You know who it is.”

Danni could feel her blood pressure rising. He was getting pretty brave now. “You piece of shit. I’m gonna nail your ass.”

“You shouldn’t leave your daughter in a watering hole where you can’t see her.”

The words took a moment to register. Danni threw the cell phone down and raced for the water, not knowing what to expect.
Was that son of a bitch down there? Had he grabbed Hannah?

Hannah was fine. She was still playing with her newfound friend. Danni took a long deep breath and exhaled. For just a split
second her life had hung in the balance. Then the cop in her took over. She looked around. There weren’t too many people at
the springs that day and most of them were women with their children. She couldn’t see him, but he had to be there somewhere.
She ran back to the blanket and chair, retrieved her cell phone and called the desk sergeant at the Apache County Sheriff’s
Office. She recognized Bill Rose’s voice right away.

“Bill, this is Danni Jansen. I’m out at Whiskey River Springs and I just got a call from our killer. He’s out here somewhere.”

“I’ll get some cars out there right away, Danni.”

“There’s only one road in and out of here, Bill.”

“We’ll set up roadblocks at each end. If he’s still in there, he won’t get out.”

Danni next called Captain Jeffries directly and gave him the news so he wouldn’t get his information secondhand over the radio.

“I’ll send a task force unit out there as well, Danni. Why don’t you take your daughter home. This could get a little hairy.”

Danni wanted to be there, but she knew that his advice was sound. “I will, Captain. Thanks.”

Getting Hannah out of the water was no easy task.

“Come on, Hannah, we have to go.”

“We just got here, Mommy.”

“I know, honey, but we’ve got to go now.”

The sheriff’s deputies arrived on the scene just as Danni and Hannah finished packing up. Everybody was ordered out of the
Springs and checked out individually before being allowed to get in their cars and leave. Each car got a pass placed on the
inside dashboard by an officer just before leaving, and the people inside received some verbal instructions: “Lock your door
and don’t stop for anyone for any reason until you get beyond the police blockade. When they see your pass at the blockade,
they’ll let you go.”

The cars left single file so there would be no way for the killer to stop one of them without somebody else observing. Danni
and Hannah were in the last car.

 

The next morning, Danni called the office to say that she wouldn’t be in. She talked directly with Captain Jeffries.

“We didn’t get him,” Jeffries told her.

Danni wasn’t surprised. “Did you check out that phone number he called from?”

“Yes. It belonged to a woman who lives in White Springs. She was at Whiskey River Springs yesterday and she said she’d lost
her phone. We’re checking her out, but she sounds legit.”

“He was probably at the Springs, stole the phone, and called me from the road as he was leaving.”

“That would be my guess,” Jeffries replied.

“Listen, he made a veiled threat against my daughter yesterday, and I’ve got to take care of that. It’s going to take me a
couple of days.”

“Understood. Need any help?”

“Nope. The fewer people who know about this, the better.”

“I hear you. Let me know when you get back to the office.”

Danni accompanied Hannah to school that morning. They went right to the principal’s office where they waited an hour to see
the principal, an elderly black woman named Mrs. Demps. Danni went into the office alone but not until she had one of the
office ladies swear she would not let Hannah out of her sight for any reason.

“Not even to go to the bathroom.”

“Not even to go to the bathroom,” the woman repeated.

Inside the principal’s office, Danni revealed her plan.

“I don’t know if you know this or not,” Danni began, “but I’m a homicide detective with the Oakville Police Department. Yesterday
the man who is killing these young coeds threatened my daughter directly. I have to take her out of school, and I have to
take her out of this area and reenroll her somewhere else under a different name. I will need to take all her records with
me.”

“That may take a few hours.”

“We have some packing to do, and I have some calls to make. I can come back in three hours.”

“Make it two,” Mrs. Demps said. “We’ll have the records ready for you.”

Danni had already called Mike’s cousin, Eleanor, who lived in a suburb of Denver. The two women had become friends during
the marriage and had maintained that friendship after the divorce. Eleanor had two kids of her own. Her son, Tim, was fourteen
and her daughter, Patricia, was twelve.

“Eleanor, I have a big favor to ask of you,” Danni began. “You are kind of off the radar in the sense that few people knew
that we were friends and nobody knows that we are still, including Mike.” Danni then told her what had happened recently.

After picking up the records at school, Danni and Hannah took a very circuitous route to Tampa, making sure they were not
followed. Late that afternoon they boarded a plane for Denver. During the drive to Tampa and the flight to Colorado, Danni
drilled Hannah on the details of her new life.

“You can’t get close to anybody, honey, except Aunt Eleanor and Uncle Charley and Tim and Patricia. You are still going to
be Hannah, but your last name is going to be Olson like Tim and Patricia. Do you understand?”

“Why, Mommy? And when am I going to see you?”

It was a process but Hannah was starting to get it by the time they landed. Eleanor was waiting at the airport. Danni spent
the next morning making copies of Hannah’s school records, then altering the copies, then copying the altered documents until
they looked as good as the originals. Early that afternoon she and Eleanor met with the principal of Parker Elementary School.
Danni told the woman the whole story.

“Hannah can’t live with me while this maniac is free and she needs to go to school. I have her records here which show her
name as Olson and show that she is a fourth-grade student.”

“I need to check with the school board before I can approve this,” the principal said.

“You can’t,” Danni replied. “I don’t want
you
to know. I don’t want anybody to know. If you can’t take my daughter under these conditions, then she’s not going to go to
school while this madman is loose. I’ll sign whatever waiver you need just as long as you don’t show it to anybody until this
is over.” She didn’t say what “over” meant, but they all knew there were several possibilities.

The principal, Mrs. Hoffman, thought about it for a long time.

“The child needs to go to school,” she said finally. “And nobody can fault us for doing what we’re doing under the circumstances.”

Danni was on a plane home that night. Every nerve in her body was on edge. Every fiber within her wanted to be with her daughter
in Denver. Finally, she started to feel just a speck of what Stacey Kincaid’s parents and all those other victims’ parents
had felt when they heard the news that their daughters were gone.
My little girl is still alive
, Danni thought.

We’ve got to find this bastard.

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