A Deeper Grave. Debra Webb

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СКАЧАТЬ Bobbie hoped she had taken off as teenagers will sometimes do when angry with their parents. The alternative didn’t leave much hope for her survival.

      Other than being hungry and a little dehydrated from spending twelve hours hidden in the heat of the attic, Sage was unharmed. He insisted he hadn’t heard or seen anything. Bobbie wasn’t so sure the kid was being completely honest. She’d pushed as hard as she felt comfortable and he’d stuck with his story. After dinner his parents had begun their usual routine of screaming profanities at each other and his sister had gone into her room, slamming the door in his face. Eventually his parents had taken their screaming match back downstairs and Sage had sneaked into their bedroom and through the closet to the attic. The child admitted he hadn’t wanted to go to his friend’s house because he worried about his parents and sister, but he couldn’t bear the screaming so he hid. He’d fallen asleep and hadn’t awakened until he heard the sirens, then he’d been too afraid to come out of hiding.

      Bobbie had ridden in the ambulance with him to the ER. The physician on call had suggested Sage stay twenty-four hours for observation just to ensure he was okay. His mother’s sister who lived in Nashville had been called. She’d arrived before Bobbie left for Atlanta. Bobbie hadn’t told Sage his parents were dead. She’d left that painful business to his aunt. To ensure the boy’s safety, a uniform had been assigned to his room. The FBI was sending one of its agents to serve as part of his security detail as well.

      Poor kid had no idea what lay ahead of him. His entire world had been shattered. There was no way to save him from the hurt of learning to live without his parents. At the moment though, the most pressing concerns were keeping the boy safe and finding his sister. If the killer learned a possible witness had survived his killing spree he would want to rectify that oversight.

      After the boy and his aunt were settled into a room at Baptist Medical, Bobbie had hit the road. She’d arrived at the prison nearly forty minutes ago and had been pacing this small waiting room since. Her patience was quickly running out. She should be back in Montgomery looking for Fern Parker and whoever killed her and Sage’s parents.

      Bobbie stopped her pacing and shivered as if a cold wind had passed through her. Not so long ago she’d been in the precarious position the Parker children were in. The serial killer she had survived had wanted to finish what he’d started. She clenched her teeth and dropped into the nearest chair. No one was going to get to that little boy or his sister—assuming they could find her and the bastard didn’t have her already—as long as Bobbie was breathing.

      Devine had conducted face-to-face interviews with the teenagers on the short contacts list in Fern’s cell phone. According to those few, there was a long list of newly unfriended teenagers on Facebook and Instagram who should be interviewed as well. The feds had already pushed their way into the homicide investigation and were interviewing potential suspects who had been wronged by either Nigel Parker or his wife. The FBI’s involvement was understandable since the Parker fraud case had been theirs. If Fern had been abducted they would be lead on that aspect of the case. Special Agent Michael Hadden from the Montgomery field office would work as a liaison between the MPD and the agent in charge, Ronald Vincent, of the Parker case. Hadden promised to provide any names of persons of interest the MPD didn’t have in an effort to ensure all bases were covered.

      Bobbie had tasked Devine as liaison with Hadden. Chief Peterson had made it clear that his detectives and the Montgomery Police Department would remain lead on the investigation until the homicide aspect of the case was solved. According to the chief, Special Agent Vincent, who’d come all the way from New York, hadn’t been too happy about it but he’d let it go quickly enough. As much as Bobbie wanted to focus solely on who had decided to use a dead serial killer’s MO, her top priority was to find Fern.

      The possible motives for the murders were easy enough to deduce. Both Nigel Parker and his wife had made serious enemies. Nigel by stealing from his clients; Heather by having affairs with at least four of those married clients and arranging secret lovers for many more of her husband’s friends. Fern was the big question mark in Bobbie’s mind. If the killer was levying vengeance, what had the girl done to deserve to be taken? What was her shame? Or was she simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, ending up collateral damage? Until she was found all they had was speculation.

      “Detective Gentry.”

      Bobbie pushed aside the troubling thoughts and focused on the tall man dressed in a guard’s uniform who had entered the waiting room. When she’d arrived she had gone through the usual routine of signing in and then turning over her handbag, badge, weapon and all other personal items the same as any other visitor. Eventually she had been sequestered to this small private room.

      “That’s me.” She stood, smoothed a hand over her jacket. She felt more than a little naked without her department issue Glock at her waist and the backup piece she kept strapped to her right ankle. She’d left her backup piece as well as the knife she carried in the trunk of her car. Leaving her Glock in the car was out of the question.

      “I’m Malcolm Clinton. I apologize for your wait. The warden had to approve your visit and he was in a meeting when you first arrived,” the guard explained. “Apparently Mr. Zacharias failed to mention that you’re a detective.”

      “No problem. Can I see Weller now?” Another zing of anticipation rushed through her. The two-and-a-half-hour drive from Montgomery had given her plenty of time to come up with a number of questions she wanted to ask the infamous doctor. She had every intention of requiring his cooperation if he wanted hers.

      “Yes, ma’am.” Clinton gestured to the door. “This way. We have certain procedures as you likely know. The inmate will be fully restrained during your visit and there will be two guards outside the door. If at any point you feel uncomfortable or if an issue with the inmate arises, all you have to do is call out and the guards will assist you.”

      Bobbie had visited her share of prisoners, mostly in county lockup. A federal prison like this one was a first for her. “I understand.”

      She followed Clinton along the somber corridor, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. As much as the knowledge that Randolph Weller was a sadistic killer sickened her, she wanted to know all she could about Nick. If he was in trouble, she owed it to him to help in any way possible. He was the main reason she was still breathing. On top of saving her life, he had helped her to see a life beyond the vengeance she had wanted so badly.

      Gaylon Perry, aka the Storyteller, had murdered nearly two dozen people and no one had even come close to figuring out who he was much less catching him. Nick Shade had learned more about the psychopathic serial killer than anyone else. After discovering one of the victims had survived, Nick had come to Montgomery to wait for him. Like Bobbie, he had known the Storyteller would be back for her—the one that got away. Nick was the only reason she had survived that showdown.

      “Let the guards know when you’re done,” Clinton said, drawing her attention back to the present. “You’re not to touch him or pass anything to him. He’ll undergo a full cavity search after your visit.”

      Bobbie had no desire to get any closer than necessary. “Does he have visitors often?” The answer didn’t really matter, she was curious about one particular visitor.

      “The only visitors he has are the two agents from the FBI who show up every week or so.”

      “His son doesn’t visit?”

      If Clinton was surprised by her question he kept the reaction to himself. “In nearly fifteen years his son has been here only once and that was about two months ago.” The guard eyed her for a moment before unlocking the next door. “Are you working on a case that involves Dr. Weller СКАЧАТЬ