Chapter 11
“What’s in the bag?” she asked as she started toward Sherry Duvall’s home in New Holly.
“Life.”
They shared a grin.
“I got us some goodies. Nothing with powdered sugar though. Gotta keep our clothes clean.” He looked official in his dark suit and tie, while she wore a sport coat over her short-sleeve blouse with dark, breathable trousers.
“Smart.”
“Got the goods from Top Pot. A few apple fritters, some cake donuts, and of course, an assortment of Pot Holes for you.”
She loved the tiny donut bites. “If you weren’t married, I’d propose right now.”
He chuckled. “I don’t think Alex would like that.”
“My loss, I know.”
“Don’t you think it’s time you called me Ray?”
“I didn’t realize you had a first name.”
He snorted and shoved half a fritter into his mouth. “I don’t, according to the newbs who recently joined. They call me Rookie-Killer Ryan.”
She chuckled. “Well, Rookie-Killer, call me Jane. I figure you’ve earned it with the Pot Holes.” She’d mentioned once, over a year ago, while on a case they worked that she liked them. And he hadn’t forgotten.
On the drive, while they ate and drank coffee in companionable silence, she eventually took a breath to ask, “What do you know of Sherry Duvall?”
“When I interviewed her before, she had nothing to add. She’s the middle child, younger than Jim but older than Dave.
She takes care of their mother and is flush with the money Jim set aside to care for the older woman, who’s got a developing case of Alzheimer’s.
Sherry’s a nurse and decent caretaker. No conflict with either brother and has a spotless record as a nurse. ”
“Did she seem sincere to you?”
He nodded. “Just like Dave, but without the nerves and the lying.”
“Great. Well, let’s hope we can get something off her phone call about Bubbles.”
“Yeah. Bubbles.” He grinned. “I wonder what kind of dog that is? A Pekinese? A Maltese? Something small that barks a lot, I’ll bet.”
“Hmm. Maybe a Pomeranian or Yorkie.”
“You might be right.” Ray added, his tone more serious, “What kind of killer are we hunting, Jane? He’s not just killing the families. He’s torturing them.” His voice turned gravelly. “He’s hurting kids.”
“We’ll find him. And we’ll stop him.” That was a promise.
“I just hope we can stop him before he gets to the next family.” Ray paused then added, “Why do you think he’s letting the pets go?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t mesh with the profile I have of him in my head. He’s smart and systematic. He enjoys his kills, and he’s meticulous.”
“Yet you found that notebook,” Ray pointed out.
“Because I’m meticulous too.” She grinned, pleased he seemed to relax. “He wants something from these specific families. His targets aren’t random.”
“So where will he strike next?”
“If I’m right, he’ll hit another name on the list. There are ten in total, and he’s removed three of them.” She rattled off a few of the familiar families listed, which made Ray’s eyes widen.
“Those are some powerful people.”
“I know, right? The Collective is at the heart of these murders. I think the killer is not only stealing money but also data stored in those crypto wallets.”
Ray frowned. “It’s bugged me that the killer never took any of the easy cash from his kills. Stacks of money, bonds, jewelry. He didn’t touch it.”
“Yeah. He’s got a plan and is following it to the letter.” She thought about it. “But the maid surprised him. A treat for all his hard work.” She explained to Ray what she meant, filling him in on the Strand family.
“Damn. Cut her up into pieces? That’s sick.”
“And not easy to do. Cutting through bone takes strength, and the proportions of all that carnage were similar. This guy’s not new to killing. He’s good at it.”
They sat in silence for a moment.
“He likes it,” Ray growled. “I can’t wait to catch this guy.”
“You and me both. Though I do think it’s interesting that he killed the kids quickly. Yes, he made them hurt, but to prove a point. In the Strand case, he cut off the boy’s feet but killed him with a blow to the head. He cut off the daughter’s tongue but sliced her throat. Quick if not painless.”
“And he doesn’t kill the pets. I wonder what Sherry Duvall and Bubbles have to tell us.”
At this point, Jane hoped for anything that would shed light on their mysterious murderer.
* * *
An attractive woman on the thin side with a wealth of silver hair belying her relative youth, Sherry met them with an overactive Yorkie.
They sat in her living room. In a larger atrium they’d passed earlier, Jane had noticed an older woman in a wheelchair sitting in front of a television.
She watched a popular game show in silence.
The dog barked a few times at Ray and Jane before Sherry scooped it up and comforted the tiny beast.
Ray leaned in to murmur to Jane, “You win.”
She smothered a smile, not wanting Sherry to misread her levity with the situation. Jane examined the dog, which seemed just fine.
“I swear, I thought it was a crank call.” Sherry held a lacy handkerchief under her eyes, catching the tears that continued to fall. The dog licked her hand. “Who cares about a dog when your family’s been murdered?” Yet she squeezed Bubbles, who looked to be in his favorite place in the world.
“What did the caller sound like?” Ray asked. “You previously told us it was a man.”
She nodded. “He had a deep voice with an accent.”
“What kind of accent?” Jane asked.
“He sounded Russian, if I had to guess. Or some kind of -stan.”
“I’m sorry?” Ray asked.
“You know. Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, some kind of Slavic language. He told me I could find Bubbles—”
“He used the dog’s name?” Jane interrupted. “Was the name on the dog’s collar?”
“No. Bubbles didn’t have a collar on her. But yes, he did call her by name. I found her right where he said she’d be. Near Turtle Pond, tied up to a tree.”
Ray scribbled in his notebook. “Turtle Pond in the Centennial Garden?”
She nodded.
He turned to Jane. “I want to say we looked into that, searching for someone who might have seen something. But I’ll doublecheck with my guys.”
Jane nodded, studying Sherry. “You didn’t go after Bubbles right away.”
“No. Like I said, I thought it was a someone playing a cruel trick. I mean, who kills people but doesn’t kill the dog?”
A person with a skewed sense of morality, for sure. “And you’re sure he had a Russian accent?”
“Well, not a hundred percent. But I’m almost positive.”
“Is there anything else you can tell us about Bubbles? Did you find anything on him—”
“Her.”
“—her that didn’t belong?”
“No. Nothing. Just the dog. But she was shiny and clean, as if she’d just come from the groomer.
” Sherry sighed. “And before you ask, I have no idea why anyone would want to hurt Jim, Karen, and the kids. They were such a wonderful family. My brother was generous to a fault. He took care of all of us, especially Mom.”
Sensing they’d get no further, Jane waited while Ray asked a few follow-up questions, pondering all she’d learned.
The Russian accent tied to the man Christian had told her about. Tall and lean with big hands. Gentle with animals. Brutal with people.
She stood when Ray did. “Sherry, have you ever heard Jim or Karen mention the Collective?”
Sherry blinked. “No. Why? What’s that?”
“I’m not sure yet.” A detail Dave had mentioned still bothered her. “What about the Ravens? When did your brother start playing pickleball, do you know?”
Sherry frowned. “Pickleball? What are you talking about?”
“I thought your brother and Karen had gotten into the sport. Didn’t they play as a team called the Ravens?”
“No way. Karen always teased that none of her friends would play that silly sport. I think it’s fun, but when I tried to get her to play with me, she just said pickleball was for those who couldn’t play tennis. And my brother preferred golf.”
Jane smiled, feeling another part of the puzzle click into place. “My mistake. Thanks for helping us today.”
She handed Sherry a card, aware she hadn’t earlier. Ray did the same.
“Anything you need.” Sherry walked them to the door carrying Bubbles, who was licking at any part of her she could reach.
“Detective Ryan, Agent Cannon, please feel free to call me. And if I can think of anything to help you, I’ll let you know.
” She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “Get the monster who did this and put him away for life.”
“That’s the goal, Ms. Duvall.” Ray petted the dog, earning a gentle woof. “Please don’t hesitate to reach out.” He nodded to Jane. “She’s one of the best. And that’s exactly who you want working this case.”
Sherry gave them a watery smile before shutting the door behind them.
Once in the car, Ray turned to Jane. “What’s with the pickleball reference?” His eyes narrowed. “Hold on. Didn’t Dave Duvall mention his sister-in-law and brother playing?”
“Yes, he did.” Jane looked into Ray’s eyes and said slowly, “We’re going to pretend we didn’t hear about that for now. As soon as I get something concrete, I’ll let you know. But seriously, keep it close, okay?”
He nodded. “I hear you loud and clear. But keep me in the loop, yeah?”
She nodded.
Ravens and corvids and rooks.
Jane could almost see the threads tightening, tying the clues together, leading her ever closer to the truth.