The Trees Beyond the Grass (A Cole Mouzon Thriller) (25 page)

CHAPTER 74

AGENT LEAS PLACED
no further calls to Mr. Christie’s number; he was convinced it was still in his Charleston home. Using his sources back in D.C., he canvassed every hotel in the Dallas-Fort Worth area for a booking by the doctor, but nothing had been discovered. More interesting, all credit card activity had stopped on his card at least two weeks earlier, in Dallas. It was like he just disappeared after that. Agent Leas decided to make another visit to the Christies’ home and press the wife for information. Either she knew something and was hiding it, or she was in on this whole game.

Seated next to him in the rental was Winters. “Dr. Winters, thank you for joining me here in Charleston.” He had called in his request for her to join him after receiving the toxicology reports in the Havex case and she jumped on a plane immediately. Whether it was for advice or company, he didn’t know.

“By all means; it is Charleston, after all. If I have to do some work, I can handle that here. So, you didn’t make it clear why you need me here. I received your samples and the reports are correct, belladonna poisoning on the second victim.”

“Doctor, I need a second pair of eyes to help me on this and yours are keenly attuned to poisons.”

“By all means.”

“So here’s the plan. The suspect is a Dr. Steve Christie; his wife is playing dumb at this point. I need you to help see if anything in the house can link her husband, or her, to these murders I have. Being the expert and all, perhaps you will see something my old eyes can’t.”

Winters looked out the window as they drove. “Of course; then that drink you promised me?”

“If I must.” Leas smirked.

Leas returned to the pink home of the Christies and as before, waited to be buzzed in. Winters tugged at his sleeve as the gate opened. “Oleander, highly poisonous,” she whispered, pointing to a large blade-leafed bush with white and pink flowers like large stars. “A single leaf would kill a child. A single suck on the flowers’ nectar, a man. People put these in their yards because they’re pretty, not thinking about how dangerous they can be if their child or dog get a hold of them. And, right next to it, that’s poinsettia, it can survive the temperate winters here.” Leas gave a pondering ‘hmmm.’

Treece was at the gate and escorted the two into the home. Mrs. Christie was at the door this time and Leas could feel the tension when she noticed Miss Winters. For a moment he felt Christie might start in on some kind of a female pissing contest. With a clipped welcome, she spread the door open and invited her guests into the home. Leas noted that the phone from the hallway table was missing.

MRS. CHRISTIE STOOD
in a bright green-and-brown striped dress. She spoke impatiently as she said, “Agent, I told you that I know nothing about those packages you were inquiring about.” She attempted to soften her displeasure, but it seeped through in spurts.

Noting Christie’s eyes cutting away from Winters, Leas responded, “Yes Mrs. Christie, I understand that. But you see, I have a problem. Several packages of a certain chemical, or poison, were ordered by your husband and delivered to this address. Now, I’ve been unable to locate your husband in Texas. In fact, I can’t seem to find him in any hotel there. Can you explain that?”

“Well, I don’t… I don’t know what to say. I haven’t talked to him today, but I am sure there is a good explanation for all this.”

“What do you know, Mrs. Christie? What are you not saying?”

“Nothing, I know nothing. This is all coming as a surprise. Let me try him now.” She walked to the other room and returned with a phone. She was obviously locating her husband’s number when Winters interrupted.

“May I see your hands?” Winters extended her hands to grab Mrs. Christie’s.

“Excuse me!? No you may not.” She recoiled, her arms now tight against her chest, hands tucked deep in her armpits.

Winters gave Leas a look that suggested she had noticed something of importance. “Would you mind if we have a look around the home, Mrs. Christie?”

Puffing, she responded, “I would mind very much. Am I under arrest or something?”

“No, ma’am. But I think it would be helpful if we could have a look around for those packages.”

“Agent, unless you have a warrant, I want you to leave.
Now!
”

Bowing his head in good-bye and looking over to Winters, he said, “Of course.”

Mrs. Christie almost pushed the two as she rushed to close the door. Walking back to the door, Leas looked at Winters. “Do you mind filling me in now on what that was about?”

“Her nails, Agent. She had indicators called transverse white striae, what people call Mees’ lines, pale bands in the nail. Arsenic exposure. It disrupts nail plate growth when there are acute exposures, causing the white bands.”

Leas scrunched his face, trying to understand. “But I don’t have arsenic poisoning in this case. It seems to go against the MO displayed so far.”

Winters’ words were slightly irritated. “I don’t know what you have, but she has been exposed to arsenic, Agent. And that is never a good sign.”

“No, I appreciate it. Perhaps the killer has changed his pattern. It’s not unheard of. Just another piece of the damn puzzle.”

Leas explained to Winters his next steps. He couldn’t arrest Mrs. Christie based on what he had so far, it was too circumstantial; no judge would issue a warrant. He would need to dig deeper and see if it was indeed the missus and not the mister that had been ordering the poison. Either way, the clock was ticking, but he could not act yet.

CHAPTER 75

IT WAS SIX
by the time he returned her to the Elliot House Inn off Queen Street. According to its streetside sign, the peach structure had been around since 1861 and likely had seen ample history. Leas attempted to be a gentleman and walk the doctor to her small first-floor room, which faced onto a bricked patio area. The doctor invited him in and he happily accepted. Inside, the room was almost entirely consumed by a large mahogany bed. “Beautiful, isn’t it? It’s a rice bed, unique to Charleston.” She explained how the bed was a remnant of the area’s plantation history and dated back to the 1700s. It was intended to capture the symbols of wealth at the time, tobacco and rice. So, each tall post of the bed was carved with a ring of tobacco leaves and rice seed heads. She ran her fingers across one of the ornate carvings and then looked up as if she’d had an epiphany. “Would you like to grab a drink? I saw this very rustic wine bar down the street that looked very interesting.” Leas wasn’t about to turn down the offer, though he wasn’t much of a wine drinker and really needed a day off from drinking all together.

Winters wasn’t kidding about rustic. Bin 152 looked like a country diner except for all the polished people sitting at its simple mismatched chairs. The raw wood floors were stained slightly black, and the communal tables added to the feeling of being in someone’s grandmother’s kitchen. They crawled up next to a young couple who appeared madly in love and ready to express it in front of the entire restaurant. Leas hoped that meant they would leave soon so he had more elbow room. It wasn’t lost on him that though he was sitting three inches away from another person, there was no attempt to socialize, to engage, as though some glass wall had been raised and prevented even acknowledgement of another.

“So what are your thoughts on everything right now?” Two glasses of wine were ordered, a Goats do Rhome, and some Australian wine called Mount Pleasant Shiraz, both recommended by the waiter. Leas thought the second was fitting for the location.

After taking a sip he explained what he knew. The FBI was doing a complete background on Mouzon which was pretty easy since he’d had an FBI record since elementary school. So far nothing had popped up. They were also looking into Mark Calhoun’s background.

“Didn’t you say he died like nine, ten years ago? How would his background help you?” The waiter interrupted with a charcuterie and cheese plate mounded with meat; the waiter indentified each with of his hand: “Coppa, mortadella, and prosciutto.” Leas waved the guy off and grabbed a slice before continuing with his mouth half-full.

“It’s a long-shot really. It’s highly unlikely that will result in anything. That’s why we’ve handed that off to the Mount Pleasant PD. Their records are as good as ours on him. Let Mr. Mouzon’s sister chase that rabbit down the hole.”

“And what about this Poinsett thing? Any clue?”

“Well, that has us really concerned for Mister Mouzon. Whoever is killing under that name is likely from Charleston. According to the records pulled on all Poinsetts in Charleston around the time of Cole’s kidnapping, there was one that seemed to just drop off the radar after the event. There wasn’t much there, but it seemed just too much of a coincidence to not be considered.”

He suspected it was highly unlikely at this point that the original kidnapper was involved. For one, it appeared from the video pulled at the restaurant in Dallas that they were dealing with a woman. The investigation files from the kidnapping were clear; a man had committed the original acts thirty years before. And, second, the woman in the video was too young to be the kidnapper. Though they didn’t have a clear shot of the woman’s face, the fact that someone was able to lure Patrick into taking her to his home suggested someone around thirty-five or younger.

What that left was that someone had learned of the kidnappings and decided to use the collection as their own to-do list. The kidnappings were publicized a great deal at the local level, but little was actually reported of the collection across the country. So, either someone had personal knowledge from knowing one of the victims or they grew up in one of the cities. There were four cities where kidnappings occurred. Charleston was the first, then Houston, White Plains, and finally Las Vegas. Whoever it was, they were working backwards on the list. There was the California murder that was connected to Vegas. Tony Patrick was the Houston connection. Whitney Havex was from White Plains. And now it appeared the killer was trying to finish the list, checking Cole Mouzon and Charleston off.

Winters shook her head in disbelief. “Wow, I have to say that scares me and I’m not even involved. Do you really think it’s one of the Christies?”

“Everything is pointing in that direction. I’ve got the wife under surveillance now, and if she makes a move toward Mouzon, we’ll see it. But enough about this craziness. What about you? Where are you from?”

Winters told Leas about her modest upbringing in rural Clyo, Georgia, outside of Savannah. She left home as quickly as she could get into school. Science had been her escape and it seemed natural to study it. Poisons, she fell into when she assisted a professor in college research project. From there her life was on auto-pilot. She had never married, choosing her work over involving herself in any some drama-laden relationship.

Leas pulled back in awe. “That’s a shame; you appear to have it all together. I just figured someone had snatched you up.”

“And you?” Winters turned the table on Leas and his personal life.

“Ah, me… That’s one of those drama-filled relationships you avoid, filled with love, and lots of sadness. She died two years ago, murdered by a suspect in one of my cases. So, it’s just me and lady whiskey at this time.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” There was a pause in the conversation while both sides took in their discussions. An hour had passed and the waiter came over with a check, suggesting that their time at the table was done. Leas flipped open the black cover and swallowed deep at the check. No wonder they’d recommended the Mount Pleasant, at fifty dollars a glass he could have bought a bottle of Knob. Winters must have caught his reaction because she leaned over and pulled the ticket from his hand, demanding she pay. He could tell she was a woman that got what she wanted.

At the door to her room Leas told himself he couldn’t, wouldn’t sleep with her. She was an expert on a case and he didn’t like mixing business with pleasure. A kiss into the exit that choice had been changed. Much like the check, the doctor took control. Leas liked this, even if it was just for the night.

CHAPTER 76

“I HAVE TO
do this, Jackie. I… I have to.” Cole sat on his sister’s patrol car, contemplating everything he had learned over the past few days and doubt had seeped in like the tide on the marsh, threatening to seep under the wall that held back all his emotions. He knew he needed to do this, must do this, if his family was to ever be safe. But he felt helpless and insufficient for what was approaching and had no understanding of where to even start to tackle the riddle that was now his life. It had been three days since he learned of his childhood kidnapping, the murder of his mother and the intentions of someone to now kill him.

“Cole, you are the strongest person I know. But please don’t do this alone.
Please
.”

Cole spoke in rushed words. “I have to, Jackie! Dammit, I can’t let this linger. I will not have you and Billy, or anyone else close to me, hurt. I won’t be alone. Agent Leas will be there. Your people will be there. You’ve always been the strong one, not me. And, this… Well, this is my time to be strong, even if I don’t know how. Sis, I
am
scared. Shitless.”

“Okay, okay. Then fight, dammit. But not alone. I know you have the strength. Remember what Granny always says, ‘God never gives you more than you can handle.’ I don’t know why all of this is happening, then or now. But, I do know that if there is one person who has the strength and ability to conquer this, it’s you. Cole, you don’t know how much strength you have in you. But just look at yourself. You have come through so much even before all this. The things you have gone through in your life are things most people could never survive. Every day I’m grateful to have had you in my life to give me the strength to kick my asshole of an ex-husband out of the house, to raise a strong man of a son, and to move forward. It is you who’s inspiring, Cole, not me.”

Cole’s mind went awash with what his sister had just said. He had been through some rough times. The death in Atlanta, feeling absolutely helpless to stop it, having to accept himself and his lonely place in this world; life was not the easy sandy beach path most people saw when they looked at him. He had survived those moments, but not without bruises and the construction of a few emotional walls. Okay, more than a few. He knew he was the master of closing off the world when he felt under threat and he was doing it again, even if that was the worst approach to be taking right now.

“And, don’t get me started on you accepting death. I was ready to wring whoever’s neck that told you about dying when you were like four years old. Do you remember that? You cried straight for a day and then when mom tried to talk you through it and told you all things die including her, you bawled even worse for another two days.” Cole laughed. Like almost every other moment in his life, he recalled the event with vivid detail. They lived in the trailer on Porchers Bluff and he lay on a mat pieced together with rags and woven by MeMe into a colorful collage, refusing to move. His only relief from the redness of his eyes was laying his head on the floor A/C vent to sooth the burn in his eyes when the air blew. Three days passed without eating before he stopped. That was the first memory he had of his internal wall going up, shielding his mechanics of life from the torment of his emotions. His sister was trying to break the seriousness of the moment, but it wasn’t working.

“But, Cole… I know you. You think that the best approach is to work this alone so that no one else but yourself can possibly be hurt. I know you have tough skin. I know you are willing to endure. But, please understand, this isn’t something you can do alone. Cutting out others who care about you, like what it sounds like you’ve done with Cash, just makes you weaker, not stronger. Let people help, Cole. We’re already in danger, whether you want it or not. Nothing you can do will stop that. And guess what… we’re still standing here and willing to risk ourselves for you. Don’t lose sight of that fact. We choose you, Cole. And we’ve done that because we love you and you bring gifts to our lives. So stop locking people out, you ass!” Cole could feel his sister’s smile come through the line with that last statement. He knew she was right, but his mind resisted the idea of permitting anyone else but himself to hurt, to grieve…to die for him.

“Jackie, I’m royally messed-up, aren’t I?” He placed his head between his hands.

“No, Cole. You can be a pain-in-the-ass little brother sometimes, but you have it together like no one else. Just look at all your successes. I’m sure a lot of that was just a way to ignore and avoid your personal issues, but you channeled it and came out stronger. That’s what you need to figure out how to do here. Channel all that fear, that doubt, that hurt, into defeating this bitch and coming out stronger for it.”

“Yeah, I know you’re right. I do. You know, for a cop you’re pretty smart.”

“Bite me, lil’bro.” They both laughed, once again breaking the seriousness of the situation.