Thirst for sin touch of.., p.16
Thirst for Sin (Touch of Evil Book 1), page 16
From the clothes that had still been hanging in the closest, she’d had style. Not surprising, given that she had run with the popular crowd. A thorough search of the small jewelry box that had been left on top of the dresser didn’t reveal any diamond studs. Most of the items had been nothing of significance. Friendship bracelets, inexpensive rings, and gawdy necklaces took up most of the space. While there was also a collection of earrings, there was no sign of the diamond stud that Vicki had in her possession after school that day.
Brook spent a good forty minutes going through miscellaneous boxes the had been shoved underneath the bed and the numerous drawers in Vicki’s dresser, nightstand, and vanity. There had been nothing of interest that Brook could find to benefit the case with the exception of the pink backpack that had been hung over the back of a chair.
Brook had known exactly what to search for given that both Vicki’s parents had mentioned that she had purposefully covered up whatever she’d been writing in her notebook. The bonus was the fact that the single diamond stud had been placed in a side pocket for safe keeping.
“Joe.” Brook had spoken softly, though the sound of her voice had Amanda startling from her place just inside the doorframe. “I need this as evidence. Plus, there are some notebooks that I would like to look through.”
Joe had understood that a request from her to take the backpack wouldn’t go over as well as if the appeal had come from him. She’d made sure that he saw the diamond stud in the side pocket before she had pulled the zipper closed. It would have been pointless to keep him in the dark from the details that she’d gotten from Meg and Tasha, so Brook had been candid with him before they’d left the station.
While the earring was of utmost interest, Brook was counting on information written inside the notebooks to give them something concrete. One simple name or even a set of initials to compare to those individuals who fit the profile currently living in town could be all that was needed to close this case.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
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November 2021
Friday—11:24 am
He stood in front of his bookshelf, staring at the leatherbound case disguised to resemble a classic novel. The hollowed-out interior held the items that had been of utmost interest to him. He’d discovered the treasure box years ago at a garage sale. The navy-blue leather spine had been labeled to resemble Grimm’s Complete Fairy Tales in gold leaf lettering. He kept the skeleton key that opened the antique lock mechanism securely around his neck on an old gold chain that he’d purchased from a five and dime.
How appropriate was it for such a special case to contain the memories that he’d made of the women who had done their best to deceive him? They had merely been cloaked to hide the evil that lurked in the lives of those who didn’t want to seek out the truth. They denied the eternal truth, that which was sacred before other things. They were profane, adulterers of the truth.
His initial panic upon discovering that the investigation into Vicki’s death was being reopened had subsided, and he’d regained his composure. After all, his story was still ongoing.
The arrival and involvement of the FBI had regrettably prevented him from leaving town to check in on her—his princess. Was she the one? Was she the one who his mother had told him about when he was a child? It was a real possibility, but he was being kept from her by the authorities.
Did that make her Juliet to his Romeo?
He’d only ever spoken to her twice on the phone, but her voice was like slow molasses in wintertime being poured into a cup of hot tea. Closing his eyes, he tilted his head back as he replayed her sweet voice saying his name over and over.
Their story would have to be put on hold, though. The next chapter in his life was about someone else entirely. Someone who he should have been concentrating on from the very beginning. Evil had been hiding in plain sight all along.
One woman was standing in his way of an epic ending.
There was one simple solution to his problem, though.
He needed to witness her suffering and watch the life slowly drain away from her body.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Brooklyn Sloane
November 2021
Friday—12:01 pm
“I’ll go back through the case files,” Frank replied over a noise that sounded like the copier machine in the office. It had a unique squeal that made it identifiable. “I’ll also reach out to the victims’ relatives to see if they noticed anything missing among the belongings left behind. Oh, and Steven Schmidt? Yeah, he didn’t pan out. He basically has alibis for most of the murders in question.”
Brook and Joe were at the local diner, though she was standing outside near the entrance under the overhang. The break in the rain hadn’t lasted long, and she’d had to put on her black rain jacket before they’d stepped out of the truck. Joe had already gone inside, leaving her to make some calls in private.
She’d had a chance to glance at the background reports that had been sent to her inbox during her interview with Tasha, and no one on the list had fit the parameters of the profile. All the same, she would keep the scheduled meetings with Luke, John, and Sam. While she doubted that they could fill in the gaps of Vicki’s life that she’d kept secret from her parents and two best friends, there was still a chance that they had noticed something off in the days leading up to her murder.
Tasha had admitted to knowing about the former sheriff having an affair with Vicki’s mother. Tasha had made it known that she didn’t believe such a sordid detail had anything to do with her friend’s murder. She still believed that Francis killed Vicki. Apparently, the young girl had been trying to figure out a way to let her parents know that she was dating the boy. He hadn’t been too happy at the time that she’d been taking so long, giving Tasha enough motive to convince herself of his guilt.
“It doesn’t surprise me about Schmidt. I’m close, Frank. The unsub is somewhere here in Sutton.” Brook monitored a vehicle entering the parking lot, though the place was quite full given the lunch hour. The mixture of rain, oil, and exhaust was preferrable than the stale cigarette odor that she’d endured at the Anderson’s residence. “The sheriff has provided a couple of names for me that could fit the profile. Once I have them narrowed down, I’ll have one of the agents in Pittsburgh drive over and help me bring the suspect in for questioning.”
“Good. Do you need anything else from me? Des wants to see me regarding one of my cases with Ann. She was supposed to testify next week, but it looks like I’m going to be flying solo for any near-term court appearance.”
“No, nothing else.” Brook stepped to the side for the couple who’d arrived in an older Chevy. They both regarded her warily as they entered the diner. “I know you’re swamped, so I’ll let you go.”
Brook disconnected the line, wishing that she’d thought to ask about Ann. All had to be good on that front, though. Frank would have mentioned something otherwise, and Harden would have left her a voicemail. She had one message that she hadn’t listened to yet, but she didn’t want it hanging over her head.
It didn’t take her long to reach the screen that she’d needed in order to press the call back button. The line was answered on the first ring.
“We need to meet. Now.”
Brook sighed in frustration upon hearing Bit’s voice as she readjusted the strap on her briefcase. She’d brought along one of Vicki’s notebooks that was currently safely inside a clear plastic bag. Of course, she’d have to use gloves to flip through the pages, but she would eventually send it off for analysis. As for Bit, he’d been a personal resource, thus deserving of her cell phone. She was now regretting the decision to call him back.
Joe had park right out front of the large glass display window of the diner so that they could keep tabs on his truck. She would have had him stop by the station to drop the evidence off, but she didn’t trust Benny not to leave well enough alone. She had no doubt that he still had a key to the building.
“Bit, our business was concluded the other day,” Brook reminded him in a tone that broke no argument. “You made a choice, and now you—”
“Kuzmich knows that I was stealing some of the coins that I was mining,” Bit replied desperately, though Brook couldn’t fathom why he would call her. “I have Paula set up in a motel across town, but she has to go in for a chemo appointment first thing on Monday morning. She can’t miss it, and Dima is going to grab her to prove a point.”
“Not my problem, Bit.” Brook had heard several sob stories like his over the years, and some of those people didn’t have an out like he did. “Call up your buddy. I’m sure Special Agent Calabro will cut you some type of deal for turning on Kuzmich, and one that will include your sister’s safety.”
Another vehicle pulled into the parking lot. Surprisingly, she recognized the man. Knowing full well that Joe was keeping tabs on her as well as his truck, she made sure to meet Matt Henley’s gaze through the windshield. She shook her head slightly that he shouldn’t acknowledge her.
“Look, I need to—”
“I have more information on that target you asked me to keep tabs on,” Bit quickly exclaimed in a desperate manner to prevent her from hanging up. “Please. Just wire me the money so that I can pay back Kuzmich. I’ll get you the details and—”
“Not a chance in hell,” Brook replied in anger, turning slightly so that Henley couldn’t read her lips. The last thing she needed was for an independent crime journalist to get wind of a conversation regarding her brother. “Don’t you fuck with me, Bit. We are done.”
She disconnected the call before counting to ten, not that it did much good.
Bit apparently hadn’t gotten her message the other day. He didn’t have the right to dangle a carrot out in front of her, especially about her brother. Bit didn’t possess any other information that could land her ass in hot water with Calabro or anyone else, and it needed to stay that way.
“Good afternoon,” Matt replied as he walked by the front of his car, nodding her way in a rather impersonable manner that wouldn’t have anyone thinking they were anything more than mere strangers.
Brook’s cell phone vibrated since she still had the device set to silent. She didn’t even bother to look at the screen before shoving her phone into the side pocket of her briefcase. Between Bit and Matt Henley, her satisfaction with the day’s events had gone to hell.
“Thank you,” she murmured, brushing past Matt as he held open the door. “Have a good day.”
The heavy smell of grease hung in the air, almost as if it were trying to vie for the top spot of her morning. First, the stale cigarette odor. Then came the odd bouquet of the cold wet outdoors. She’d take the delicious fragrance of seasoned fries any day.
“Everything alright?” Joe asked as he gestured toward the cup of coffee that was on her side of the table.
He’d somehow ended up claiming a private table in the corner. Given how busy the place was for lunch, that was quite a feat. She took her time removing her rain jacket and laying it overtop her briefcase that she’d set into one of the empty chairs. They had both chosen the seats that had them facing the front entrance, leaving him positioned on her right side.
“Everything is fine.” Brook took a seat and pulled the mug closer, wrapping her hands around the warm porcelain. The design was old. There wasn’t one thing in this place that had been updated since the eighties or nineties, and that included the stained curtains hanging over the windows. “Who was the man who just walked in ahead of me?”
Joe didn’t even need to glance over at the counter, which was where Matt Henley had taken a seat on one of the stools. Joe slid a piece of paper her way that had been torn from his miniature notepad. He kept his hand over it while answering her question, though.
“Matt? His family owns one of the local farms, though he doesn’t live here anymore. He moved to Pittsburgh after high school. Started some true crime channel on YouTube or something like that. Once it became a hit, he then moved to some other East Coast city. I’m not sure which one. He comes home every once in a while, but his visits are getting less and less. Honestly, he probably heard you were in town and caught the first flight here to check you out.”
“I guess that’s not surprising,” Brook murmured, glancing down at the sheet of paper. Matt Henley’s name wouldn’t be on it. The first thing that she’d done after returning to her hotel room last night was check into his past. It had been posted in the about section on his channel that both of his parents still owned a farm on the outskirts of Sutton, which had just been confirmed by the sheriff. She’d also checked some of the other databases for confirmation, but she figured it was best to carry on the conversation as if she were in the dark. “Are both of his parents still on the farm?”
“Yes,” Joe replied, even going above and beyond her question. He’d obviously been taking notes from her, and she appreciated his diligence in the face of his previous omissions. “Both are his biological parents.”
“Let me see this list that you made,” Brook replied, unsure of where Joe’s hesitancy came from when he didn’t immediately lift his hand off the paper. His indecision was so brief, she wasn’t sure it meant anything of significance. “Look, I didn’t mean to blindside you regarding Amanda’s affair with Benny.”
“Yes, you did.” Joe tapped the piece of paper, but he didn’t slide it toward her quite yet. “I don’t have much of an excuse, other than I was young and stupid. Benny swore that his affair had nothing to do with Vicki’s death, and I believed him. I still do. I realize that I haven’t done anything to earn your trust, but I hope you can see this is me trying to do the right thing now.”
Joe finally shifted his hand away from the paper. She waited a heartbeat before picking it up and reading the names aloud, leaving the rest of the discussion to die a natural death. She still needed him, and it wouldn’t do to shut him completely out of the investigation. Regardless that he had covered for Benny, the residents of Sutton still trusted Joe’s position of authority.
“Brandon Farina, David Molchalin, Jeremy Yates, and Timothy Milburn.”
“I’d like to go on record that I don’t believe any of them are capable of doing what I witnessed done to Vicki,” Joe replied quietly, keeping their discussion contained to the table. “Jeremy…well, he’s my cousin.”
No wonder Joe had been hesitant to hand over the list.
The way he had leaned back from the table had her doing the same, though she’d also caught sight of movement out of her peripheral view. She tucked the small piece of paper into the pocket of her blazer before their waitress, who just so happened to be Meg, could see anything of importance.
It didn’t take them long to place their orders, but their attempt for a peaceful lunch went straight to hell when Benny Morgan walked through the front door. The loud murmurs of conversation dulled to a few single whispers until Joe quickly stood from the table, but it was a little too late. Benny clearly blamed her for the unwelcome response from those who had considered him practically a saint.
To think the former sheriff’s ire was due to her bringing up his son’s involvement and not the fact that she was dredging up an old affair told her that a more severe response was on the horizon.
Joe had done his best to keep Benny from interfering with the investigation all morning, and the sheriff seemed to have lucked out in that area once again. Whatever had been said between the two men was enough to get Benny to rethink whatever confrontation he wanted to instigate with her. Both men exited the diner without a backward glance.
Brook retrieved the small piece of paper while she enjoyed her coffee, not having had a moment to herself all day. Her mood hadn’t been helped by Bit’s phone call, either. She hadn’t expected any trouble after cutting ties with him, but he was desperate. The chances of him having additional information on Jacob was almost nonexistent.
Still, she hated the way doubt had begun to creep its long and twisted fingers into her conviction. The vision of Jacob’s hands covered in blood followed by the tree branch tapping her bedroom window that fateful day returned with a vengeance.
Brook could feel the weight of multiple stares her way. Not knowing how long Joe would be, she retrieved her laptop and connected to the hotspot on her phone. She quickly ran the names through the system to confirm that they fit the profile.
Most of the full background checks that she’d requested had come through, with the exception of a few that were still pending. She still expected them all back by this afternoon, but she took the time afforded to her and ensured that there were no surprises. While she had her laptop opened, she went ahead and typed the names into the system that Joe had provided her.
The fact that Jeremy was related to Joe could prove a problem. Undoubtedly, Mitchell had relayed to his parents that Joe wasn’t going to be immediately terminated from his position. Hell, Brook doubted that anything she said or did could have him fired, not unless those who voted for him opted for a recall. Such news had most likely already been passed to friends and family. Would such details regarding Joe’s position provide Jeremy confidence that he wouldn’t get caught if he turned out to be the unsub?
The man was now number one on her list to speak with, because Joe was obviously holding something back. Had Jeremy gone to high school with Vicki? Had the two of them been friends? More importantly, what had Jeremy’s childhood been like?
Joe had walked through the entrance of the diner right about the time that Brook had closed her laptop. She planned to make quick work of the three interviews lined up this afternoon, with an additional stop to speak with Francis Walker. She had debated on whether or not to stop by his place of work, but she would rather he be in a comfortable setting. The most appropriate venue would be his parent’s residence.
