Chapter Twenty
Twenty
Fort Bragg, California
Carrie crowded Ronan out of the way, leaning toward the monitor on what had been Judith’s desk. They were watching the surveillance feed on the office computer.
“Is that him?” she demanded. “Is that the guy who killed Judith and Olive?”
And so many, many others.
The camera at the employee entrance had captured the intruder, both going into the inn and leaving. “Yes. But he knew the camera was working again.”
Because he’d hidden his face behind a surgical mask and the bill of a ball cap. And then, as the cherry on top, he’d deliberately extended his middle finger to the camera on his way out.
Carrie frowned. “Is that a safe under his arm?”
“Yes. He stole it from Ms. Randolph’s room.”
“Oh my God. He just waltzed in and out like he owned the place.”
“He used a key card to get in.” That had been captured clearly as well.
“Probably Olive’s,” Carrie said. “She claimed she’d lost it and I believed her. I thought maybe this guy had stolen it from her, but now I don’t know. Did he kill her because she gave it to him—or sold it to him—and he wanted to shut her up?”
“That’s one possible scenario. We’re checking her financials to see if she was a risk for bribery or extortion.”
“She was financially struggling. She kept asking for more hours, but she wasn’t doing a great job with the hours we gave her.
She never finished cleaning the rooms on her assignment list and one of the other staff had to go behind her and redo tasks she did poorly.
Judith was trying to get her to improve.
Maybe Olive was desperate for cash,” she said sadly.
“Doesn’t excuse anything, but it may give you a reason.
Oh, that’s useful.” She pointed to the monitor as the man drove away in a Ford Explorer.
“You have his vehicle and the license plate.”
It appeared he was driving Steve Garfield’s SUV.
Bold bastard.
The plates were almost certainly stolen, but Ronan immediately ran the number to be sure. They were stolen, just as he’d thought. The guy would likely change them for another stolen set, but Ronan upgraded the BOLO to include the new details and texted Howard to keep him up to speed.
Then he texted four of the men he knew who ran gas stations in town. It was getting late, but this was urgent and they’d understand. He sent the texts separately, not wanting to start a multiperson conversation.
Some of the men were a bit too chatty.
Need your surveillance footage at the pumps for the past two weeks.
Because their killer would have to have filled the gas tank of Garfield’s Explorer at some point. Especially after driving to Willits to kill Kasey.
One, Lorne Nicholson, immediately replied. What am I looking for?
He hesitated. Then decided to go for it. They were up against the wall and this guy kept killing. Late-model Ford Explorer. White.
On it, Lorne texted back.
Ronan let the others know what vehicle he was looking for before returning his attention to Carrie and the inn’s footage.
She was watching him. “What should we do about security? Will he come back? This is going to destroy our business. Not that the business is more important than lives.” She grew flustered. “I’m sorry, Ronan. That was selfish of me to say.”
“Not at all,” he said kindly. “This is your livelihood and you all have suffered a shock. You’re allowed to worry about the impact on your business. I’ll request an officer to maintain a presence at the back of the inn.”
“That will make the guests feel safer. We don’t have many right now, but more than half said they’d be checking out in the morning when I gave them the statement you prepared. This is not good at all. We’re all going to suffer. All the inns up and down the coast.”
Tourism was a major contributor to the local economy. This could have serious ripples on the entire community beyond the horror of having their friends murdered.
But they’d have to deal with that as it came. He found the killer’s photo on his phone. “Have you seen him?”
Carrie started to shake her head, then took his phone and brought it closer to her face.
She used her fingers to enlarge the man’s face.
“Oh my Lord,” she whispered, her hand beginning to tremble.
She looked up to meet Ronan’s gaze, hers stricken.
“He came in. Asked directions. Said his phone wasn’t getting a signal and he couldn’t use his maps app.
That happens all the time. Tourists don’t realize how bad the cell signal is here. I didn’t think a thing about it.”
Ronan took his phone before she dropped it, then grasped her shaking hands in his. “Breathe, Carrie. Don’t pass out on me.”
“Ronan, he was here. Less than three feet away from me.”
“When was this?”
“The day before yesterday.”
“The day before Ms. Randolph’s first room here was broken into. He was probably checking out your security. Do you remember where he wanted to go?”
Bowing her head, she went perfectly still. “Oh no.”
Dread settled heavy on his shoulders. “What is it, Carrie? Where did he want to go?”
“He was looking for a house in Judith’s neighborhood.
On her street. It was just two doors down.
” A sob tore from her throat. “Ronan, I told him where to find it. I all but gave him directions to her house. Where he killed her.” She folded in on herself, her body now shaking with sobs. “Oh my God. I helped him kill Judith.”
He wanted to run to his SUV and drive to the house two doors down from Judith’s just in case the killer actually was holed up there. But he knew the families who lived two doors down on either side and they’d been home that morning when he’d arrived at Judith’s crime scene.
Besides, he didn’t think the killer would be so stupid as to announce his location. Still, he’d check out every house on Judith’s street. But first, he needed to get Carrie calmed down.
He closed his hand over the back of her neck, lightly gripping. “Carrie, no. You didn’t. I’m sure he already knew where she lived. He was just being cruel.”
“Why?” she wailed.
“Because he’s a monster. He’s killed so many people. You are not to blame.”
But she couldn’t be consoled, so he had her unlock her cell phone and he dialed her husband. Ronan had a good relationship with Pete, who owned a local plumbing business.
“Hey, babe. What’s up?” Pete asked, his normal jovial self.
“Pete, it’s Ronan Clarke.”
Pete’s demeanor instantly changed, terror making his voice break. “Oh God. God, no.”
“She’s fine,” Ronan hastened to say, kicking himself for scaring the man.
After Judith’s murder, of course the husband would think the worst. “But she’s had a shock.
” He briefly described the situation. “Can you come to the inn? I don’t want to leave her alone, but I have to interview the staff. She shouldn’t drive herself home.”
“I’ll be there in less than five minutes. Thank you, Ronan.”
“See you soon.” He ended the call and put her phone on the desk.
“Pete’s on his way.” He tipped up her chin and pressed some tissues into her hand.
“Carrie, this is not your fault. This guy came here to see how many cameras you had and where they were. Asking directions was a ruse. A cruel, heartless ruse.”
Carrie nodded shakily. “Thank you. I’m not sure I believe you and I still feel guilty, but thank you anyway.”
“Pete’s going to take you home. Who can man the desk?”
“Debbie can. She’s in the restaurant, but the crowd’s thin. She can take over the desk. I’ll call her.”
“I’ll take care of it. You stay here until Pete comes. Thank you for your help. We’re going to catch this guy, Carrie.”
Her chin lifted. “I know you will. And when you do, I want a crack at him.”
“Yeah, no. You want your kids to visit you in prison? You keep your hands—and your shotgun—to yourself.”
Carrie and Pete lived off the beaten path where bears were a concern. Most folks up their way kept a loaded shotgun. Ronan knew that Pete did because they’d done some target practice a time or two.
Carrie closed her eyes. “Tell the hunter…tell her I’m sorry. I wish she could stay, but I can’t…But I don’t want her on the street, either. No one is going to want to give her a room. Not after today.”
“I know,” he said. “I’ll make sure they have a place to sleep.”
He already knew where he’d put them. It was the second-safest place he knew. The safest place was in his house, but that couldn’t happen.
Although he really wished it could.
He patted Carrie’s shoulder and left the office, tapping Penny’s name in his contacts as he walked to the restaurant.
“Dad?” Penny answered on the first ring. “What’s wrong?”
He almost said nothing, but Penny deserved the truth. “More bad news, sweetheart. There was another homicide today at the inn. Olive Lavery.”
For a moment Penny was silent, and then she sighed. “She sold her key card to the killer so he could sneak into Elle’s room, didn’t she?”
Ronan blinked. “How did you come to that conclusion?”
“Because I’m not stupid and I know a tweaked-out addict when I see one. I saw her a few weeks ago and she was in bad shape.”
“In the clinic?”
She scoffed. “No. I wouldn’t have told you if I’d seen her in the clinic. I don’t have my degree yet, but I still have to abide by HIPAA regulations.”
“Sorry. I should have known better. Where did you see her?”
“She was coming out of the library as I was going in. She was agitated. Either coming off a high or in withdrawal.”
“Why was she in the library?”
“Her mom works there. She’s a nice lady, so I asked if they were okay—both Olive and her mom.”
“Clearly Olive wasn’t, but what about her mother?”
“She was crying. Said she’d stopped giving her money. Said that Olive kept snorting it up her nose.”
“Thank you for that information, honey. That explains a lot.”
“You’re welcome. Does her mom know yet?”
“No, that’s something I’ll have to do after I talk to the staff.”
“Tell her to call me if she needs someone to sit with her. She’s really nice, Dad. She loves her daughter so much, but it’s hard dealing with a kid on drugs.”