Chapter Fifty-Nine

Kate stood in the center of conference room two, soaking in the photos, maps, and clues their team had pinned all around the room. She knew she was disobeying Fuller’s direct order by coming into work today, but she couldn’t help herself. Her brain wouldn’t magically switch off, so she might as well put it to good use.

Instead of pretending to listen to Luke and his mom—something she’d shamefully caught herself doing too many times over the past few days—she was better off wasting time rehashing the same clues over again at work instead of at home.

There had to be something they’d missed.

The killer couldn’t have gotten away with murder twice without leaving a single clue. She looked at the map and added one pin: Father Matthews’ apartment, whose address she’d just looked up. Its location didn’t jump at her as anything overly convenient for either of the two victims.

Using one of the blank whiteboards, she turned to the mental game she played when she was really stuck: brainstorming. She began by selecting two words that had appeared at both crime scenes, then she let her mind make whatever mental associations it felt like making. No time for second guessing or political correctness.

Rosary: religion, church, choir, hymn, prayer, father, amen, cross, oil, blessing

Used nightgown: beggar, poor, donation, charity, non-profit

Out of words for now, she stopped and stared at the board. Then she stepped forward and circled two words: donation and choir.

A while back, Luke had mentioned to her in passing that the church had been collecting used clothing. In fact, he’d suggested it as a way for her to get rid of Kenny’s clothes instead of just throwing them away. The nightgowns. The detectives hadn’t bothered with tracking those down. While some DNA had been found on them, it hadn’t matched anyone in their databases or on their list of suspects. Not even Father Matthews.

For a few seconds, Kate wondered if they should try to contact second-hand stores, see if they could have sold or given those two articles away, but she couldn’t picture anyone spending money—not even a dollar—for those really worn-out pieces of clothing. They had to have come out of the back of someone’s closet, trash can, or donation bin.

But which? There was no real way to tell unless a volunteer would recall those specific items. Kate had no idea how many donation bins existed, either formally or informally, within the city, but she guessed the number to be too high for the time they had. Not worth the effort.

She turned to her other brainstormed option: the choir. That majestic organ she’d seen… Could the killer be part of the church’s choir? Would one choir rotate through several parishes?

But before answers could come to her, her phone rang with the tone she’d assigned Fuller.

“Detective Murphy,” she said, bringing the device to her ear while hoping he hadn’t just driven by the station and seen her car in the parking lot.

“We’ve got a third one.”

“What’s the address?” she asked, marker in hand, ready to add to her board.

He gave it to her. “I’m heading there now, but I need you to contact our surveillance guys right away. Confirm where your two main suspects were for the past few hours. First officer on the scene talked about a rosary. He said the vic hadn’t cooled off yet.”

“On it.”

“Call me back right away.”

She ended the call then dialed the shift supervisor’s number who promptly provided the names and numbers of those currently surveilling. Next, she called one of the officers with eyes on Amanda McCutcheon.

“Officer Lofland, this is Detective Murphy.”

“I was just about to call you guys,” he said.

“Why?”

“We’re bringing her in. She spotted us and went ape-shit!”

“What?”

“It appears she may have been a target of your murderer. Long story, from what I gathered. We’re heading back to the precinct with her now.”

“Fine.”

Kate smiled as she dialed Smitty’s number. She’d shared a few shifts with him before. He’d even pulled a favor and helped her out with her uncle’s case a few years back. Perhaps he’d have helpful info for her once more.

“Smitty, it’s Murphy. I need a status update on Father Matthews.”

“Hey, hey! Good afternoon, blondie!”

“No time for small talk. Where was he during the past few hours?”

A small pause, then he spoke. “He’s been at the church’s fundraiser for at least an hour.”

“What does that mean. Where was he the hour before now?”

“Is it really important?”

“Smitty, we just got a third victim. It happened within the last few hours. Tell me you guys had eyes on Matthews the whole afternoon.”

“…”

“Smitty!”

“Mansbridge had to leave, and I may have lost him for about thirty minutes.”

“Fu—” Her nails digging into her palms, Kate swallowed letters she didn’t voice. Could this be good news instead? Was that enough for probable cause? “Tell me exactly where he was before and after you lost him.”

“At the fundraiser.”

“Address?” Kate asked as she walked toward the map.

She added a pin to mark the fundraiser’s location and another for the third murder. They were a stone’s throw from each other. The man could have gone from one to the other and killed the person within thirty minutes.

“Man, Smitty, you should have called it in when you lost eyes. I’m gonna ask for another unit to take over for you. The minute you’re relieved, I need you to report to Detective Lieutenant Fuller.” She gave him the crime scene address and hung up, mixed feelings brewing in the pit of her stomach.

Is this it?

She grabbed her jacket and headed downstairs, phone cradled against her shoulder as she stepped out of the elevator, waiting for Fuller to pick up.

“Sir, we’ve had developments on both sides. Officer Smitty, our eyes on Matthews, lost him briefly this after—”

“What the fuck?”

“I know. I’m just about to call the patrol supervisor. I’ll get a replacement for him so he can brief both of us in person. His fuck-up may be our opportunity for probable cause. Matthews was a block away!”

“What’s the other development?”

“Amanda McCutcheon spotted our surveillance team. She freaked out and has something to report to us. She’s here now,” Kate said, recognizing the brunette walking into the precinct’s lobby.

“Here, where? Are you at the precinct?”

There was no point lying to him now. “Yes.”

A groan echoed on the line.

“I’m heading out to meet you now.” Kate hung up.

“Detective, I need to speak with you,” Amanda said as Kate dialed the shift supervisor’s number once more.

“One minute!” Kate raised her index finger in the air before leaving a message for the supervisor. “We got a new development, Sergeant. Detective Lieutenant Fuller and I need Smitty to report to us urgently. Could you get someone to replace him ASAP?”

Kate hung up the phone and turned to Amanda before speaking. “What did you need to tell us?”

“Hmm. Here?” she asked, looking around at the handful of police officers and civilians hanging around.

“Can you identify the killer?” Kate asked Amanda.

“Right now, no.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s complicated.”

Officer Lofland nodded next to her. “I’d say so.”

“Okay, I’m sorry but I can’t stay to get your statement right this minute. It’s not that I don’t care. Something major just happened.” She turned to Officer Lofland. “Please call Detective Wang. She’ll come in and grab her statement. I’ve really gotta go!”

Kate arrived at the scene just as Smitty did. She recognized his tall, good looks from a distance, but she didn’t know how to feel about him right this minute. What kind of a rookie error was that? He knew better. His only task had been to keep eyes on one person.

How had he lost Father Matthews?

Well, she would soon find out.

“He’s with me,” she said to the officer manning the perimeter, holding two sterile suits in one hand and flashing her badge with the other. She tossed one suit over to Smitty while she filled out the crime scene log. “Dress up, Smitty.”

Bodies covered in their paper suits, they headed into the multi-tenant residence.

“What’s her name?” Kate asked as she found Fuller. Another young woman, a brunette this time, lay on the bed, a bright red rosary wrapped around her praying hands. She wore an oversized Christmas themed nightgown.

“Mariana Gomez Alvarez. Talk to me, Murphy,” Fuller said.

“Sir, this is Smitty, he had eyes on Matthews.”

“What is it I heard? You lost him?”

Smitty brought his gloved hand to his mask-covered face, as though he was going to scratch his cheek but obviously couldn’t. “I’m sorry, sir. I lost him for about thirty minutes.”

“Didn’t you stalk our suspect with a partner? Where he is?”

“He got called off. It was just me.”

“We’ll deal with that and the why later. But when did you lose him exactly?”

“Between about one thirty and two o’clock this afternoon.”

Kate and Fuller turned to look at the medical examiner who was hunched over their latest victim. “What do you say, Doc?” Kate asked. “Could the murder have occurred between one thirty and two?”

“Body temperature is 94F, so yes. Most plausible.”

“And where was Matthews when you lost sight of him?” Fuller asked.

“At the community fundraiser, a block away.”

“And where is he now?” Kate asked Smitty.

“The event was winding down. Tough to say, but Benz took over from me. He’s watching him now.”

“Sure hope he’s gonna do a better job at it,” Fuller said, a deep line clearly visible between his brows.

“We’ve got his proximity and unknown whereabouts during the murder. We’ve got the easy access to the rosaries, donated clothes at church, no alibis for the first two murders, easy access to the holy oils. Do we have an oily substance on the forehead?” she asked.

“That’s affirmative,” Dr. Cooper said.

“Anything oily on the hands?” Kate asked.

“Negative.”

“Profiler’s description could match,” Kate said.

Fuller cleared his throat. “We’ve got probable cause. Go get him, Murphy, and if he doesn’t want to come voluntarily, arrest him.”

“And me?” Smitty asked.

“You fucked up. Expect consequences,” Fuller snapped.

“Now?”

“Get out of here!”

Rosebud matched Kate’s broad strides as they marched down the aisle of the cathedral, ignoring the parishioners peppered on various seats, some kneeling, some seated.

Although Kate’s mind was on the impending arrest, she couldn’t help but be amazed at the grandeur of the place. The roof arched so high up above them, intricate carvings and pillars surrounded them, colorful stained-glass windows let in daylight several stories above.

They found their suspect in the sacristy, donning his robe for what had to be an upcoming ceremony. One he’d most definitely miss now.

“Father Matthews,” Kate said, making him turn toward her, Rosebud, and the two uniformed officers who accompanied them in.

“Detectives, I don’t have much time to talk right now. I’ve got a mass to get ready for.”

“I’m afraid that’s no longer the case. You are a suspect in a homicide investigation, so we need you to come down to the station to provide a statement. Now.”

He lifted his chin and scoffed at Kate. “You can’t make me.”

Kate beamed at the cocky priest. “I’m afraid I can. Father Gabriel Matthews, you’re under arrest for the murder of Mariana Gomez Alvarez.”

The uniformed officers proceeded to handcuff and search him.

“But—”

“Officers, could you please convey the father to the district. We will meet you there.”

“I’ve got mass!”

“Your parishioners will have to miss it. Justice can’t wait.”

His icy blue stare met her glance. “I want to call a lawyer. I won’t say a word until then.”

“Fine by me!” Kate said as she and her coworkers followed their suspect out of the sacristy.