Chapter 21
Twenty-One
Erin had just taken a seat in front of the desk where the dour detective stood, staring at her, when a woman in a police uniform came up and whispered something in his ear. The detective’s face made it clear that what she’d said had upset him.
“I need you to stay here,” he said, looking at her. “I’ll be back.”
Erin nodded at him. He walked away and was quickly joined by several other people, some of them in uniform.
One man, who looked to be in charge, was clearly angry about something.
It was then that Erin noticed Noah was part of the group.
After a brief conversation, a few of the people left the building, including Detective Herrington.
Now what? Should she just stay here? Noah left the people still standing there and came over to the desk where Erin waited.
“Sorry,” he said to Erin. “Something’s happened.”
“What’s going on, Noah?”
Kaely’s voice from behind her made Erin jump.
“Sit down,” Noah said to his wife, under his breath.
Kaely grabbed a nearby chair and pulled it up next to Erin. Noah sat down in the detective’s chair.
“They’ve found another one,” Noah said, his voice low.
“Do you have any details?” Kaely asked.
Noah shook his head. “Call came in from the local police department. Body was discovered just north of Fredericksburg. The police took pictures and notified the state police. We’ll get more info soon since we’re working on a profile.
But they did give the state police the name of an author.
Patricia Long. They found a book with her name on it at the crime scene.
Just like the other murders. Have either of you heard of her? ”
“I have,” Erin said. “In fact, I met her once. Before I wrote Dark Matters, I went to a book signing at a store in St. Louis. I’ve read all her novels. I’m a huge fan.”
“What genre does she write?” Noah said.
“Crime thrillers. I think it’s been a few years since she’s had a new book, though. I read she’d decided to take some time off from writing. That she was burned out.”
“So, you read her last books?” Kaely asked.
“Yeah. You’re wondering if I can tell you how the killer in her last book did the deed?”
“You see right through me,” Kaely said with a smile.
“What can you remember?” Noah asked.
Erin ran the last book through her mind.
What was it about? “Okay, her main character is a tough-minded detective named Austin Blake. The last case was . . .” What was it?
Before writing books, Erin used to read .
. . a lot. “Okay, I believe he chased down a killer that . . .” Suddenly, the cover of the book flashed in her mind.
For the second time that day, she felt as if she might lose her lunch. Or breakfast.
Kaely leaned over and looked into her face. “What is it, Erin?”
“Grin,” she said, her voice shaky. “The name of the book was Grin. There’s a large bloody grin on the cover.”
Noah took out his phone and began to tap on his device.
“The killer used a knife to carve a large smile on his victim’s face,” Erin said slowly, “using the corners of a woman’s mouth to create his . . . monstrosity. He also . . .”
“I just pulled it up,” Noah said. “He slit their throats and carved a smile on the victim’s chest.” He shook his head. “That’s awful.”
Erin nodded. “Yeah, it was. Some people think the story was a little too personal. It was taken from a series of murders that happened in Pennsylvania where Patricia lives. The killer was called the Joker because he made his victims look like the Joker in the Batman movies. I think he killed six women before getting caught.”
“She stole the idea?” Noah asked.
“No, not really. Just the method of killing. She never used the killer’s nom de plume.
Besides, the murders happened over twenty years ago so it was fair game.
She did mention the previous crimes in a foreword.
There was supposed to be a movie about the book, but after several delays, the idea was scrapped. ”
“You know a lot about that movie,” Kaely said.
“I think it was because I enjoyed Patricia’s books so much. I was looking forward to the movie. When she stopped writing, I was really upset. She was a great writer.”
“We’ll know more about it after they get back from the crime scene,” Noah said. “But for now, you’ll be talking to me. Detective Herrington asked me to do the initial interview with you. This is just preliminary. You’ll still have to talk to him, and that will probably happen tomorrow, okay?”
Erin felt momentary relief. She wasn’t as nervous talking to Noah instead of the surly detective. After being here today, she was certain she’d be better prepared tomorrow. She nodded. “That’s fine, Noah. So, what do you want to know?”
He looked down at the tote bag she’d brought with her into the command post. After removing her wallet, she handed it to him. “My laptop and my phone,” she said.
Noah nodded. “Thanks. I’ll clone your phone and copy the files from your laptop while you’re here. You’ll be able to take them home with you.”
“Okay,” Erin said. “Of course, you’ve ruined the great excuse I had for running behind on my edits.” She smiled at Noah. “How many authors get to tell their editors that they can’t send in their manuscript because the FBI commandeered their laptop?”
Noah laughed. “Sorry. I could try to hang on to it a while longer if you want.”
“That’s okay. I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble.”
“We’ll be looking through your emails, texts, and social media to see if anyone who contacted you or posted about you might be a suspect.
This would be someone who has a fixation on you.
They might be praising you beyond what’s normal or even criticizing you.
Does anyone spring to mind when I say that? ”
Erin tried to run through some of the comments she’d received through her website or on social media sites.
She really didn’t spend much time looking at them so that made it harder for her to answer his question.
“I . . . I can’t think of anything. There’s been criticism, yes, but I’ve found that most authors get that.
There was the woman who didn’t like the color red on my cover.
But I don’t think that means she’s a psychopathic serial killer.
A few that made me a little uncomfortable with their praise, but again, nothing that sticks out.
” Something popped into her mind. She couldn’t believe it was connected to the murders, but still . . .
“You look like you just thought of something,” Noah said.
“I don’t believe it’s linked to these murders, but .
. . Well, you’re talking about the way people react to my writing.
” She told Noah about Christine and the attempt to blackmail her publisher.
As she talked, Noah took notes. When she finished, she said, “Her number is on my phone, and her address is in my emails. I asked for her address so I could send her a copy of my book. But seriously, Noah, Christine isn’t a serial killer.
Just a greedy woman who thinks she can make some money by lying.
She told my publisher that she can prove her allegations, but that’s impossible.
She had nothing to do with either book, except for giving me some information about a lake in Missouri that I used in Dark Matters. ”
“We still need to look into her.” He smiled at Erin.
“Maybe being questioned by the police will make her change her mind about trying to squeeze money from your publisher.” He shook his head.
“You’d be surprised by all the ways scam artists dream up to make money.
People like your publisher pay them off to avoid bad press.
Unfortunately, it just encourages thieves. ”
“Trust me,” Erin said, “I saw my fair share in St. Louis when I was a cop. Some of the stores just watch thieves walk out with merchandise because too many people have guns. It’s very discouraging for those of us in law enforcement.
” She realized what she’d just said and felt her face flush.
“Of course, I’m not in law enforcement anymore. But you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I do. But you know what? Once a cop, always a cop. Law enforcement is something that gets in your blood, and it never goes away. You’re just living it through your writing.”
“Yeah, I guess so. Sorry, I guess we need to get back to this interview.”
Noah nodded and made some notes. When he stopped typing, he said, “So where did you get the idea for this book?”
“I . . . I don’t know. Just from my head, I guess. I didn’t pattern it after any case I ever worked or anything I read or saw on TV.”
“So, you just imagine stuff like this?” Noah asked. “Think I’ll start sleeping with one eye open.”
Erin laughed. Noah had helped her to feel calmer, and she appreciated it more than she could say.
He asked her to go through the plot of her book, in particular how the murders were committed, which she did. Then he asked the name of her publisher and then her agent.
“Now, what about public events? Book signings? Did you meet anyone who seemed . . . unusual?”
“That’s a loaded question,” Erin said. “Some fans are certainly unusual. In awe of meeting me. But most are just there because they enjoyed my book and wanted a signed copy. I used to do the same thing.” She shrugged. “People are people. There wasn’t anyone that made me think they were psychotic.”
“So, no strange fan mail? Emails? Anything? I know I already asked you about this, but you’ve had some time to think. Anything pop into your head?”
She shook her head. “Not that I can recall, but to be honest, I don’t see it all.”
“I know you’ve seen the crime photos,” Noah said, “but let’s pretend you haven’t. The state police can be very territorial. Is it all right if I show them to you again?”
Erin nodded.
“If you see anything that sparks something you didn’t notice before, or that links you to the victim or the crime, let me know.”
Erin sighed. “You mean other than using my plot to take a human life?”
“Yeah, that. Please look closely at each photo. Tell me if there’s anything different between the way the killer staged the crime scene and the way you wrote it.”
“Well, for one thing,” Erin said, “there wasn’t any poem. And of course, there wasn’t any reference to a book.”
Noah nodded. “We’re aware of that. We’ve come to believe that those elements are our killer’s signature, although it’s very unusual.
However, his intentions are more elusive.
We’re trying to understand his motives. Any other differences in the crime scenes might help us to find why he kills this way. ”
Even though she didn’t really want to see the photos again, Erin took a deep breath and squared her shoulders.
She was determined to do anything she could to help them find this guy.
Noah brought the photos up on his computer.
He went slowly through each one, asking her when to move on.
She looked carefully at each one, trying to take in everything in case there was anything that might spark something that would help investigators find the guy who had caused so much pain and anguish.
It was so weird to see something she’d created in her mind displayed in reality.
It made her wonder if something inside her was twisted.
How could she have imagined this kind of perversion?
Murder was perversion. No one had the right to snatch away someone else’s life.
It wasn’t theirs to destroy. Every time a human being was killed, other people died as well.
Children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren.
Generations of humans who would never be born. It was monstrous.
As she stared at the carnage, something caught her eye. “Wait a minute,” she said, pointing at the screen. “I didn’t notice this before. The screen makes the photo larger. It’s this. Her bracelet.”
Noah frowned. “I don’t understand. What about the bracelet?”
“It’s a . . . what was it called?” She thought for a moment.
“Jelly bracelets. Glitter jelly bracelets. They were popular around 2000–2001. I don’t see them much anymore.
” She looked up at Noah. “This is the third time there’s been some kind of toy, or in this case, a piece of jewelry worn by kids, at the crime scenes.
There was an old Barbie at the first murder.
A Beanie Baby at the second. The police chalked it up to something accidentally left behind by some kid who visited the park.
But now there’s this bracelet. It wouldn’t be that concerning if they were somewhat contemporary. But these are all older.”
“Looks like a pattern to me,” Kaely said.
Noah was quiet for a moment before saying, “I believe the people analyzing these crime scenes felt the Barbie and the Beanie Baby were incidental elements. Not germane to the murders.”
“I understand,” Erin said. “But some old toy at each murder? I don’t think it’s coincidence. I think the killer is sending a message. This could be the actual signature you’ve been looking for. These items just might be a clue to the killer’s identity.”