All hands were on deck—it was the only way to keep up. Don’s assistant, Mark Nells, was on his way to us, and Brian Matthews and Justin Smalley, the backup forensic techs, were also en route to Ken’s house. Lutz, Don, and our regular forensic team remained at the shelter to get a handle on that scene. Lutz said he’d called the rest of our weekday detectives to pitch in with the double catastrophe playing out in front of us. Shawn and Henry were dispatched to our site, and Kip and Tony went to the shelter. We would wait on the porch for Shawn and Henry to arrive, then I’d have them canvass the neighborhood to find out if anyone saw suspicious activity last night or that morning.
According to Lutz, the officers found Marie Booth’s home empty when they arrived, and so far, there hadn’t been a hit on her car. Tammy’s Impala was still in the shelter’s parking lot, so they hadn’t left in that.
It was pushing noon when Henry and Shawn showed up. Minutes later, the others arrived too. Brian, Justin, and Mark Nells took over the scene while we stood outside and updated Henry and Shawn on what we knew.
I began. “As of now, Marie and Tammy are in the wind. Reynolds, the guard, had to have called Marie to tell her that we executed a warrant on the shelter.”
Frank continued the story. “And that was obviously enough to set her off. She stormed the shelter, and as luck would have it, Tammy was sitting with the guard. Marie shot Reynolds dead and took off with Tammy, but in what capacity, we don’t know.”
“So Tammy could be a coconspirator?” Henry asked.
I shrugged. “She was trailing Trey Botty on Thursday, and he ended up dead that night.”
“Maybe she was the lookout for Marie, and maybe that’s why Ken doctored the logbook, so we wouldn’t see how many times Tammy actually came and went.”
“That’s a possibility,” Frank said, “but what motivation would Ken have to be involved? There’s also those two unknown people who visited Tammy.”
Henry’s brows furrowed. “Who? What are we missing?”
“Those names were written in the original logbook as visitors of Tammy,” I said, “but right now, I can’t remember what their names were.”
Shawn tapped his phone. “I’ll text Lutz and find out. It’s something we can start working on. What’s this Marie Booth’s story? What’s her background?”
Frank answered for both of us. “We haven’t had a spare minute to check. As far as we knew, she was just the shelter’s administrator. Nothing remarkable about her at all.”
I added my two cents. “She’s just a middle-aged woman whose mission was to protect the residents from the evildoers of the world.” What I’d just said surprised even myself. “Wow. If that doesn’t describe the words on the notes, I don’t know what does.” I shook my head and continued with Mike’s findings. “Mike noticed a flaw on the sheets of the spiral notebook. That flaw showed up on each note, which meant they were all penned from the same notebook, just different pages of it. He also compared Tammy’s handwritten note to the ones mailed to Elizabeth and Amanda and came to the conclusion that the slant was far different. His take on it was that the killer was left-handed.”
Frank cut in. “Tammy wrote her notes in front of us, and she’s definitely right-handed. When we searched Marie’s office, I noticed that all her desk supplies were positioned on the left side.”
“That’s right, and then I grabbed the spiral notebook that was lying on her desk. I flipped it open, and the third line down had that same flaw on the pages that the cryptic notes had. There’s no disputing the fact that Marie Booth has to be the shooter.” Seconds later, my phone rang. Before I answered it, I told Henry and Shawn to start canvassing the neighborhood. After swiping the green phone icon, I answered. It was Lutz. “McCord here.”
“Jesse, the guys found Marie’s car.”
“Really? Where?”
“Unfortunately, just a few blocks from here. We’re under the assumption she took Reynolds’s vehicle since there aren’t any keys on his person or in the desk drawer. I’ve got Foxworthy trying to find out what his first name is, and then he can check the DMV database to see what Reynolds drove.”
“The longer it takes to find that out, the farther away she’ll get.”
“I know, I know, but we’re trying to put out a half dozen fires at once, Jesse.”
I raked my hair. “Yeah, sorry. I’m just antsy. Henry and Shawn are out canvassing the neighborhood, and right now, Frank and I are staying out of the way while Mark, Justin, and Brian are going over the crime scene. Meanwhile, I’ll check the plates on the car parked along the curb to see who it’s registered to.”
Lutz ended the call by saying he’d let us know what kind of car Reynolds owned as soon as they found out. He also said he’d just texted Shawn about the two names in question.
I logged the plate number from the black Mustang into the DMV database. What came up was that exact vehicle and the owner it was registered to. The driver’s license photo of the dead woman on the couch stared back at me on my phone’s screen. I snapped a screen shot of Fay Carlson’s driver’s license and would dig into her background later. In that moment, I was most interested in learning who Marie Booth was and why she’d been motivated to kill seven unsuspecting people.
We took a few minutes to check in with Mark Nells and the forensic techs before digging further into Marie’s backstory. I excused myself as we passed Brian, who was kneeling on the floor and dusting the door that Frank had kicked in. Continuing on, we made sure to stay a few feet back since Mark was still examining the victims. I glanced at the bodies and wondered why a hooker happened to be in Ken’s house. I didn’t know enough about him to assume that was a practice he indulged in regularly or if Fay Carlson was just collateral damage and in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“What’s your estimated TOD on the victims, Mark?”
He pushed off the couch and faced us. “Around twelve hours ago would be my best field guess. Body temp is down to ninety degrees, give or take a smidge, for both of them. Also, they’re in full rigor.”
I glanced at Frank. “So that means Ken was killed some time after he arrived home from work. That could also mean he called the hooker to set up a late-night appointment. She arrived, then Marie did.”
Frank paced as he mulled over my comment. “Or Marie was waiting in the weeds for Ken, found out he had an appointment set up with Fay, then killed both of them after she arrived.”
I shook my head. “That doesn’t make sense, Frank. If Ken was the target, she could have shot him and left. Why wait around for the hooker to show up?”
“Okay, let me chew on another scenario, then. According to the notes written, the author is righting the wrongs of evil people by wiping them off the earth. I’d assume that would make Dwayne the nexus since it all began with him. He gambled, he drank, he used drugs, and according to Tammy, he cheated with hookers. Maybe each person who died represented one of Dwayne’s vices.”
Frank’s revelation lit a fire under me. “I think you’re onto something, Mills. So what if Fay was the target, then? How would Marie lure a hooker to her home, being a woman and all? But if she found out that Ken gave us the logbook details, even though he changed the contents, she might have decided to kill them both. Fay because of her occupation, and Ken because Marie thought he’d betrayed her. Marie forced Ken to call Fay to his house for an appointment, then she put a bullet in both their heads. She planned it that way in order to get to Fay. Killing Ken might have been a last-minute decision since he doesn’t fit into the ‘righting the wrongs’ description.”
I was sure we had the reason figured out, but why Marie took it upon herself to be the person to execute the murders was still a mystery. There was a connection between her and Dwayne—there had to be.