Wrong Turn (3 page)

‘Ms Plum, gentlemen, I’m Lieutenant Lucinda Pierce, and I am the lead investigator in this case. Ms Plum, I know this will be difficult for you, but I need to ask you a few questions about your tenant, your home and your actions that led up to the discovery in your basement.’

The minister raised up his hands palms out. ‘Lieutenant, I am sorry but—’

‘And you are?’ Lucinda interrupted. Coulter had already provided this information but he didn’t know that and she sure didn’t want the pastor to get on enough of a roll to run her over.

‘Excuse me, ma’am,’ he said, rising to his feet and stretching out his hand. With his tiny wireframe glasses, his boyish facial features and his hair slicked from one side to the other, in a futile attempt to conceal his bald spot, he looked more like a teenaged nerd gone to seed than a stalwart defender of the faith. ‘I’m the Reverend Paul McManus, leader of the flock at the James River Methodist Church.’

Lucinda was surprised by the warmth and firmness of his handshake. She’d expected something colder, limper – the kind that always made her feel the need to wipe off her hand. ‘I’m sure your presence here is a comfort for Ms Plum.’

‘Thank you. I must insist that your questioning wait for another time. Miss Veronica is quite distraught.’

‘I’m very sorry, Reverend, but it simply cannot wait. And I’d prefer to speak with Ms Plum alone.’

‘That is not possible. Not at this time.’

Lucinda glanced over at Steve Carroll, the department shrink. He took her cue instantly, reaching for the minister’s elbow. ‘Paul, come along with me. The sooner the lieutenant gets started, the sooner the ordeal will be over.’

Reverend McManus began to bluster but Steve spoke to him in soothing tones, firmly guiding him across and off the porch. The minister looked back over his shoulder at Veronica Plum as he walked away. The expression on her face gave the impression she thought he was being marched off to an unwinnable war against the forces of evil.

Veronica turned and looked up at Lucinda, her eyes growing wide. ‘That stuff on your face, whatever happened to you?’

Lucinda grimaced. That stuff on her face was the remaining scars of her injury, the ones that Dr Burns had not yet repaired. Sometimes now she almost forgot about it; the appearance of that side of her face had been drastically improved by earlier surgeries. Then, another insensitive clod would point it out to her again. ‘We need to talk about what we found in your house today, Ms Plum.’

‘I might own this house, but I have not lived in it since I went off to college. It used to be my parents’ home before they passed – and that was quite a while ago. I know they didn’t do this. I know it.’

‘Relax, Ms Plum, we realize that it’s been a dozen years since you assumed the title for this home. I imagine that’s when you lost your last parent. We are interested in your renters. Who has lived here since you acquired the property?’

‘My momma died twelve years ago. She lived only five years after Daddy was gone. And I swear, she cried every single day. But she kept this house immaculate – at all times – she would have never tolerated that smell.’

‘Ma’am. Once again. I do not suspect your parents had anything to do with what we found in the house.’

‘I should hope not. They were a fine Christian couple. Went to church every Sunday – and any other day the doors were open for Bible study or prayer. They never harmed a soul in their whole lives.’

‘Yes, ma’am. I have no doubt about that but I need to know who has lived in the home since they’ve been gone. Can you please give me that information?’

Veronica gave Lucinda a wary look as if she feared it was all a trap. ‘I can’t say I remember all the names. I’d have to look in my papers. In the beginning, I had a lot of turnover. Most stayed a year; a couple of them broke their leases, just leaving without letting me know. That is so rude and inconsiderate. I try to be a good landlady. I try not to get into their business. And instead of gratitude, they sneak out in the night without letting me know. I thought about selling this house and getting away from all the aggravation. And now . . . and now . . .’ Veronica put her face in her hands and her shoulders heaved as if she were sobbing.

Lucinda wasn’t sure how much of Veronica’s evasiveness and emotions were real and how much were merely the phoney, helpless, Southern woman façade; but she knew bullying would get her nowhere. She sat down next to Veronica and put an arm around her shoulders.

Veronica shuddered and lifted her head, dabbing at the corner of dry eyes with a tissue. ‘Well, I’ll tell you what I can. My first tenants – I can’t remember their last name or the husband’s name and certainly none of the children – there were six of them, or maybe seven. Not one over eight years old. Can you imagine raising that many in this little house?’

Lucinda shook her head and hoped her silence would spur Veronica to continue.

‘Well, now I remember her, Betty Ann was her name and she was the most mealy-mouthed woman I ever met. She came to tell me they wouldn’t be renewing their lease. Her husband lost his job and they didn’t have any money for the next month’s rent – last one on the lease. I know it wasn’t good business, but I felt sorry for the woman and I told her they could stay until her husband found another job. But she said that he wouldn’t accept any charity. They were moving back to Alabama to live with his parents until they got back on their feet. Now, I thought that was charity in a way, too. But I knew she could never stand up to that man so I let it go. She promised me that they would pay that last month’s rent as soon as they could. I told her not to worry but she insisted that they would just as soon as they had it. She said her husband didn’t want “to be beholden to anyone”. And they paid the rent – it was nearly a year later but I got a money order for the full amount. Quite frankly, I wished they’d just kept it and bought some shoes for those kids – they were barefoot half the time. But, you can’t force—’

‘Ms Plum. Ms Plum,’ Lucinda interrupted. ‘Who moved in after Betty Ann and her family left?’

‘Worthless couple. I almost got in trouble on their account, too. They were cooking methamphetamine in the back tool shed. When the police came to arrest them, they were gone. Two months behind on the rent and gone. The shed’s not back there any longer. Too contaminated with the fumes. I had it torn down and hauled away. After that, it was some college boys. They signed a full year’s lease late August but just moved out when school was over in May without a word. I don’t know what’s become of young people these days. You know they were raised right and yet—’

‘Who was after that, Ms Plum?’

‘That sweet, little Minnie Culver. She was eighty-four years old and still as bright as a cardinal in the tree. I was coming by to get her to sign a new lease for another year and I found her, sleeping in her bed. But she wasn’t asleep, she was gone. Broke my heart. I can still see her gray hair spread out on that pillow . . .’

‘And then, Ms Plum?’

‘Then was my biggest mistake. He seemed like such a nice young man. It was nine months before I realized what was really going on in my house. His room-mate was really his boyfriend. Now, I knew there were laws against kicking them out because of their sexual preferences but I sure wasn’t going to renew their lease. I was still teaching then – what would happen if the PTA president found out I was renting to homosexuals? I simply shudder to think . . .’

Lucinda sighed. ‘Who was your next tenant, ma’am?’

Veronica smiled. ‘That’s when I got lucky. Brad Loving was the next one to sign the lease. He renewed year after year.’ Veronica’s face darkened and creases formed around her mouth as she frowned. ‘Well, I thought I got lucky until today. He always paid his rent on time – early more often than not. If anything went wrong in the house, he didn’t call me, he just fixed it. He’d tell me about it when the work was done. I told him to deduct the costs of the repairs out of his rent. He’d send me all the receipts and deducted the cost of supplies from his payment, but never once charged for the work itself. I thought he was the perfect tenant and now . . .’

‘Brad Loving, you said? Did he give you any references?’

‘No,’ Veronica said with a sigh. ‘I almost didn’t rent to him because of that. But when he explained that he’d been living with his mother because she was so sickly and stayed there in her apartment until she died – well, it made sense. And how can you not believe in a young man who nursed his mother so faithfully?’ Veronica sighed again. ‘I’d like to sell this place now, but who in their right mind would want it?’

‘You certainly are not in an enviable position, Ms Plum. I empathize with you. But, back to the matter at hand, could you please describe Mr Loving?’

‘Let’s see,’ she said, tapping an index finger on her chin. ‘He wasn’t what I’d call a handsome man, but he had a very appealing face with a smile that must have made younger women melt. And his voice, so lovely. I could listen to it all day.’

‘His eyes, Ms Plum, what color were his eyes?’

‘Brown, deep dark brown – so dark you could hardly distinguish his irises from his pupils. A woman could lose herself in—’

‘Yes, Ms Plum. What about his hair color?’

‘A golden brown – looked like the sun kissed it every morning as it rose in the sky.’

Oh boy, Lucinda thought, she had a crush on her tenant. ‘And his face – the shape of it, the contour of his nose, any facial hair?’

‘Oh, no beard or mustache or any of that. His sideburns were a little bit long but not too long. His face was a perfect oval, his lips were wide with a prominent, almost French-looking lower lip, and his nose was – well, it was just right for his face.’

Lucinda didn’t think she could trust her glorified assessment – not one little bit. ‘How tall was he? About how much did he weigh?’

‘He was something over six foot tall – nice height in a man, don’t you think? Oh, well, I suppose maybe not for you. You’re that tall yourself, aren’t you? You’d need someone with a bit more height, wouldn’t you?’

‘His weight, Ms Plum?’

‘My, I’m no good at that sort of thing. He wasn’t thin but then he wasn’t fat. He looked fit but not muscle-bound, if you know what I mean?’

‘So, you’re saying, basically, he was just perfect?’

Veronica smiled. ‘Now that you mention it, that’s right. He was just perfect.’ Veronica scowled. ‘I just can’t see that he could have had anything to do with . . . with . . . with this . . . this horror.’

‘Ms Plum—’ Lucinda began.

‘No listen. He moved out a month ago – his lease was up, his rent paid in full. Why, he even told me to keep his deposit to care for any cleaning up I might need to do. I’d had a touch of the flu and hadn’t been able to get over here and do that till this week. Someone could have come in here and put those bodies in the basement after he left. I bet that’s what happened.’

Lucinda sincerely doubted that theory but she wasn’t about to argue with a smitten woman. She’d lay odds that Brad Loving moved out when the smell got to him or when he thought he’d put as many bodies in that basement as he possibly could.

‘I’ll certainly keep that in mind, Ms Plum. Now, you won’t be able to get back into this house for a few days at least. Do you need me to get a patrolman to drive you to your home?’

‘I don’t ever want to go back in that house again, lieutenant. Not ever. Thanks for the offer but the reverend said he’d give me a ride when you all said I could leave.’

‘I understand that, Ms Plum. I’ll let you know when everything is finished up here and you could decide what you want to do with the property then.’

‘Right now, I’d just like to watch it go up in flames.’

‘I’m sure you would, ma’am,’ she said, waving the minister over to her side.

Lucinda had then watched Veronica slip an arm into the crook of Paul McManus’ elbow, get into his car and drive away.

Since that day, a month ago, much had happened. Fingerprints in the home were linked to Mack Rogers, a man with a long criminal record but with very little time spent behind bars. It appeared that since his last release from prison, he’d been living right here in Veronica Plum’s house.

At first, Veronica refused to believe that her ‘Brad’ had anything to do with the carnage in the basement. Then, Lucinda showed her his photograph, and Veronica gasped and crumpled to the floor. She swore she’d never trust another human being as long as she lived. The FBI still had not released the house and Veronica was counting the days until she could send a bulldozer to knock it down.

And Mack Rogers was still on the loose. Every law enforcement agency was on the lookout for him but no one had reported a verifiable lead. He was still out there – free to hunt for new victims. The fact that he hadn’t been caught yet disturbed Lucinda’s sleep more nights than not.

Now, the identification of Emily Sherman’s body. Martha Sherman had spent seven years in prison for a crime she did not commit. And Lucinda had helped put her there. The guilt for that alone nearly overwhelmed her. What made it even worse – what haunted her waking hours and her nightmares – was the other consequence. By putting the wrong person behind bars, she’d allowed a ruthless killer to take more victims. At least four of the bodies found in that basement were young women killed after Emily – women who died because somewhere in the early stages of the investigation, she’d taken a wrong turn.

S
pecial Agent in Charge Jake Lovett rose from his desk and opened the door to his office wondering why someone from the state Attorney General’s office would want to meet with him. He stretched out his hand as the man approached. ‘Special Agent in Charge Jake Lovett. How can I help you?’

A lanky man who looked more like a college freshman than someone who had actually graduated from law school and passed the bar reached out to return the greeting. ‘Will Hunt, sir. I’m here to talk about developments in the Chris Phillips case.’

‘Chris Phillips – you mean former United States Representative Chris Phillips?’ Jake said, gesturing to a chair in front of his desk.

‘One and the same,’ Hunt said as he slid into the seat and pulled a file folder out of his briefcase in one smooth move.