Cause to Kill (An Avery Black Mystery—Book 1) (17 page)

Agitated
.

Avery was agitated by her meeting with Howard, angry and agitated.

What did he
mean
? she wondered. Everything I said was fact.
Both in college. Both in sororities. One a senior. One a junior. What was wrong
with that?

Arg!
she mentally cried.

The streets were filled with people and cars. It was a Saturday,
and she was officially off the case. Still, she didn’t just want to just kill
time. She wanted to
act
. Start from scratch, she thought. The beginning.

Lederman Park was thriving with runners and dogs by the time she
arrived. On the baseball diamond near the river was a softball game between men
in blue and red.

Avery parked the car and walked to the bench where Cindy Jenkins
had been found. The memory of the body was clear in her mind, the placement,
the slight smile, and the look toward the cinema. He wanted to kill in threes,
she thought. But that changed. Why did it change? Nothing about the three
bodies had seemed very different. They were all handled with care, and except
for the last body, they were all staring at threes—three women in love, three
girls from WWII. What’s the connection? she wondered.

She sat down, not on the spot where Cindy had been placed, but on
the opposite side of the bench, and searched her phone for any information
about the number three: it was a magical number in most religions. It sounds
like the word “alive” in Chinese. It was the first number that meant “all.”
Noah had three sons. The trinity is three.
Three. Three. Three.

Avery put down her phone.

You wanted to kill three, she thought. There was power in three.
But then something changed. What changed? What made you want to kill
more
?

From her meeting with Howard, Avery was beginning to believe the
killer had some kind of higher belief system, maybe of a religious god, maybe
of his own type of god. A god that needed young girls. Why? Avery thought. Why
do you need young girls?

Both in college. Both in sororities. One a senior. One a junior.

No
, Howard had said.

She drove to Auburn Cemetery.

As she stood before the spot where Tabitha Mitchell had been
placed and as she stared across the great cemetery, Avery felt like she was in
some kind of surreal world that wasn’t completely her own. The drive to
Lederman Park. The drive to the cemetery. They were calming, peaceful.
He
would have experienced the same thing. No fears. No worry that he would be
caught. Just another beautiful day.

Stony Brook Children’s Playground in Belmont was a hotbed of
activity. Avery was surprised that the crime scene had already been cleaned up.
Children ranging in ages from babies to eight-year-olds could be seen everywhere.
The older kids ran through the sprinklers and climbed up and down the wooden
castle. Mothers cried out and chased their young. Kids cried from bumps on
their heads. Some of the mothers and nannies glared at Avery, as if they knew
her or they were trying to place her face.

She headed over to the castle entrance where the third girl had
been placed.

A child peeked out from the opening.

“Hi,” he said and scrambled away.

Avery imagined the way the girl had looked, and then she turned to
stare at the mural with countless children holding hands.

What’s the connection? she wondered.

Both in college. Both in sororities. One a senior. One a junior.

No.

She dialed a number.

The gruff voice of Talbot Diggins answered.

“What’s up, Black? Thought you were dead.”

“Why would I be dead?” she asked.

“Don’t you
ever
read the papers? East Coast is in a panic
over this killer. Three girls in a week? You’re front page news again. Says
you’re off the case. On official leave.”

“I’m not on official leave.”

Children could be heard around Talbot. They squealed. He said,
“Hold on a sec,” and then his voice muffled and she heard, “Quiet, rascals.
Can’t you see papa’s on the phone. Go bother your mother. Get out of here!
Go
I’ll be there in a second.”

‘Sorry,” Avery said, “I’m disturbing you.”

“Nah,” he came back, “just another Saturday in the park. What’s
up, Black?”

“I called to find out about the third victim.”

“Yeah, I got a call from Lieutenant Connelly at your office. He
said he’s heading up the investigation now. Wanted to know what we found. He
sounds like a real dick. Ran her prints through the system and got a match. Was
involved in some stupid college prank last year. Her name is Molly Green. Media
hasn’t been informed yet, so keep this to yourself. She was a Brandeis senior.
Finance major. Not a very good student. Not a sorority girl either, so no more
‘Sorority Killer.’”

“Did you talk to anyone at Brandeis?”

“Spoke to the dean. Again, very hush, hush for now. He doesn’t
want anything revealed until he can make his own statement on Monday. He
referred me to a guidance counselor named Jessica Givens. Apparently, Molly was
having panic attacks about the job market.”

“Job market? Did the victim
have
a job?”

“Counselor didn’t say. But she
did
tell me that it all
worked out in the end.”

“Can I have the number for that counselor?”

“Yeah,” he said. The phone moved away from his face as he searched
for the number and yelled it out so that Avery could hear. “Got that?” Avery
typed it into her phone and wrote down the name Jessica Givens. “I got it,” she
said.

“You talk to her friends?” Avery asked.

“My team reached out to friends and family yesterday. Some are
still on it today. She worked as a part-time nanny for a family near the
school. Last time anyone saw her alive. Killer snatched her around the house on
her way home Thursday night.”

“How do you know that?”

“My squad took some testimony from a young kid, fifteen years old,
that lives across the street from the house where Molly worked. Kid said he
couldn’t sleep. At about the time Molly got off from work, he saw a girl that
matches her description exit the house and start talking to some guy near a
blue minivan.”

Avery sucked in a breath.

“That’s what he drives,” she said, “a blue Chrysler minivan.”

“Yeah,” Talbot agreed, “that’s what your supervisor told me. Said
they still had no leads on who owns that car, but they’re narrowing down the
search. Kid said the perpetrator was wearing a hat and glasses. White guy,
about five-six or five-five, lean but strong, between the ages of twenty-five
and forty-five. That’s your guy, right?”

“That’s our guy.”

“Kid didn’t know what he was seeing. Says it looked like the girl
passed out. The guy called for help and then put the girl in the car and drove
away.”

“Did the kid call anyone?”

“No, he said it looked like the guy was taking care of her. Kid’s
only fifteen.”

“Anything else?”

“That’s not enough?”

“Just trying to put all the pieces together.”

“You’re lucky I’m even talking to you, Black. Shit, that Connelly
hates your ass.”

“Why are you helping me?”

“I guess I just have a thing for desperate, reckless white chicks
that I read about in the papers,” he joked, and then his voice muffled again
and he said, “Aw, come on, baby. I’m just playing. She’s a detective. No, I’m
not interested in her. Hold on one sec.” Back in the phone he said, “All right,
Black, I’ve got to go. Nice chat.”

The line went dead.

Brandeis, Avery thought. The third girl went to Brandeis
University in Waltham—the furthest county west so far. The first victim went to
Harvard, which is in Cambridge, right next to Boston. The second one went to
MIT in Cambridge and was dropped off much further west at the cemetery in
Watertown. Brandeis University is even further west, but the victim was taken
east, into Belmont.

He lives in either Belmont or Watertown, she realized.

The logic seemed to make sense. He wouldn’t have wanted to travel further
to find and place each girl he killed. Based on where he dropped off the bodies
and took them, his travel time would have been shorter and shorter each time.
Lederman is a long drive from out here in Belmont, she thought. All the way to
Boston. Still, it was the first body and he wanted to make a statement—
and
create some distance from his home. Then he got bolder. The second body was further
west, in Watertown. The third was even further, in Waltham. He can’t live in
Waltham, she thought. Why would he want to drive all the way to Boston from
there?

She called Finley.

Extremely loud and obnoxious heavy metal music could be heard in
the background when Finley picked up.

“Yo, yo,” he cried.

“Finley, it’s Black.”

In nearly a whisper, she heard, “Oh shit,” and then the music went
down and Finley was all business. “Look, Black,” he said, “I’m not supposed to
talk to you about the case.”

“Are you still on car dealership duty?”

“Yeah?”

“The killer lives in either Belmont or Watertown. Narrow your
search to those two counties and it will save a lot of time.”

“How do you know that?”

She hung up.

Accounting. Economics. Finance. All business majors.

Talbot said the third victim was stressed out about job
interviews. Cindy had a job lined up at an accounting firm. What was the name?
Devante
,
she remembered. Biggest firm in Boston. Did Molly have a job? Tabitha was a
junior. Would
she
have a job?

She headed to her car.

On the way to Brandeis, she dialed Finley again.

“
What the fuck!?
” Finley snapped. “Leave me alone. It’s
Saturday. This is the first time in two years I don’t have a shift on a
Saturday or Sunday. Let me enjoy myself. Call Connelly. He’s on. Call Thompson.
He’s on too.”

“Tabitha Mitchell,” she said, “did she have a job lined up
somewhere?”

“A
real
job?”

“Yeah, a real job. Not a princess at Disneyland.”

“Why would she need a job? She was a junior, right?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I called you. Didn’t you talk to her
family?”

“Yeah, the mother.”

“She never said anything about a job?”

“No.”

“Call her again. Find out if Tabitha had something lined up for
the summer.”

“I’m off-duty.”

“You’re in the middle of a case!”

“I don’t have to fucking answer to you, Black!”

“
There’s a killer on the loose!
” Avery cried, “And he’s
going to kill again. And I’m close, Finley, real close. I can feel it. Call the
mom. Tabitha’s friends. Whoever you have to. I need an answer.
Soon
.
Please. Call me when you know.”

“
Fuck
!
” Finley screamed before she hung up.

Avery took Route 20 all the way to Waltham County. The drive was
slow.

Every few miles she had to stop at a light.

Jessica Givens never picked up her phone. After the fourth call,
Avery realized it must be her work number. She left a message and called the
operator.

“Hi there,” she said, “I need the number of a Jessica Givens in
Waltham.”

“We have
ten
Givenses in Waltham,” the operator said. “Do
you know where she lives?”

“No.”

An answering machine picked up at the dean’s office.

Avery drove on South Street directly into Brandeis. It took a
while to figure out where to park.

Brandeis was one of the top-ranked financial institutes in the
state. The central campus was a series of winding streets on a large hill that
was incredibly difficult to navigate and walk. A number of antique-looking
brick buildings dotted the property and were occasionally broken up by a stone
castle, or a modern glass structure with eccentric architecture. After she
parked, she walked up quiet paths and asked anyone she passed where to find the
registrar. Eventually, she was directed to a small building that was almost
completely empty. A single person worked a counter inside.

“We’re closed,” he said.

Avery flashed her badge.

“My name is Avery Black. I’m looking for Jessica Givens. I
understand she’s a guidance counselor that works somewhere on campus.”

A very warm, friendly smile greeted her.

“Heyyyy,” he said. “You’re Avery Black. You hunt serial killers,
right?
Cool
.”

“There’s nothing cool about a serial killer.”

“No, no,” he backtracked. “Of course not. I didn’t mean the serial
killer
.
I meant
you
. You’ve been all over the news. I know who
you are. They’re crucifying you in the papers.”

“I’m surprised you’re still talking to me.”

“Yeah,” he smiled, “you’re hot.”

The words seemed to have slipped out, and when he realized they’d
been said aloud, he blanched and blushed and tried to backtrack.

“I’m sorry. That was totally unprofessional. I—”

“It’s fine.” She flirted with her most winning smile. “
Seriously
.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” She nodded and leaned in close. “Really. Can you help me?”

“Sure, sure. You’re lucky I’m still here. I was supposed to be off
by now. Let’s see,” he thought and scanned his computer. “What do you need?”

“The cell phone number and home address of Jessica Givens.”

He peeked up over his screen. A lock of his wavy black hair
covered one eye. He was young, probably in his early twenties.

“You know, I’m not supposed to give out personal information.”

Avery leaned closer.

“What’s your name?” she whispered.

“Buck.”

“
Buck
,” she said with her lips, and then she lowered her
voice and looked both ways as if they were being secretly watched,

“I’m close to finding this killer, Buck. Jessica Givens has
information that could help.”

Suddenly, he appeared worried.

“Did he attack someone
here
? I thought it was just Harvard
and MIT.”

“Let’s just say no one is safe, Buck. Every college girl is a
target. But Jessica Givens,” she stressed and pointed toward the door, “she
knows something. Something important. A piece of information that could solve
this whole case. I can’t trust anyone else. I’m on my own here. Can you help
me? Just between us. No one else has to know.”

“Shit, ” he whispered. “Sure,” he said. “Sure, if it’s that
important,
all right
,” he cheered, determined, and he gave her what she
needed.

“Thank you,” she said. “I hope you realize that you could have
just single-handedly helped me catch this killer.”

“Really?”

“Really,” she whispered in her best, seductive voice.

A finger went to her lips.

“Remember, our secret.”

“
Definitely
,” Buck said. “Just between us.”

Avery quietly backed away and slipped out the door. The second the
sunlight hit her face, she dialed the number given.

“Hello?” someone answered.

“Is this Jessica Givens?”

“Yes. Who is this?”

“Hi, Jessica. My name is Avery Black. I’m one of the investigators
on the Molly Green case. I understand you already spoke to Talbot Diggins?”

“How did you get this number?”

“Are you the counselor Detective Diggins spoke with about Molly
Green?”

“Yes, I am. But this is a private line. I’m with family right
now.”

“Molly Green is dead, Ms. Givens. We’re trying to track her
killer. This will only take a second. You said the victim was stressed about
her job interview process, is that right?”

“That’s right.”

“How was that problem resolved?”

“She received a job offer from an accounting firm about a month
ago.”

Accounting firm, Avery thought.

Cindy Jenkins was hired by an accounting firm.

“Do you remember the name?”

“Of course,” Jessica said, “it’s one of the biggest firms in
Boston. I was surprised she was hired. Her academic performance wasn’t like
some of the other students who applied to the same company. It was Devante.
Devante Accounting in Boston financial.”