“Thanks for coming in, Lieutenant Williams,” Batterson said. “I know you were involved with the Gerard case, and I have some questions.”
Tally Williams sat down in a chair in front of Batterson’s desk. He was a large man, and the chair protested a bit under his weight, yet Williams appeared to be all muscle. Batterson respected him immensely, as did all the officers and deputies who’d worked with him.
“I know quite a bit about it. Before Kelly O’Brien’s murder, there were three other local women who disappeared that were tied to B.E.K. I was even acquainted with the family of one of them. I’ve kept up on the case over the last several years.”
“But the only bodies that have been found are Tammy Rice’s and now Ann Barton’s?”
“Yes, that’s correct. There are at least fifteen other missing women who are considered victims of the Blue-Eyed Killer. The lyrics to that song were left behind after each abduction, and Alan Gerard admitted to killing them. He used to be a trucker and could have been in the area when each woman disappeared. Nothing was ever proven, though. The trucking company he worked for burned down years ago. All the records destroyed. Gerard would never tell us where the bodies were buried. Now it seems he didn’t know because he had nothing to do with the murders.”
“The killings have occurred only in Kansas and Missouri?”
Tally nodded. “Yes, that we know of. Tammy Rice was killed in Holcomb, Kansas. Ann Barton lived in Garden City. Other suspected victims have come from Kansas and Missouri, but to be honest, I think there are more than these fifteen. He certainly could have extended his reach beyond these states. There have been quite a few missing women in this area of the country since B.E.K. started killing. The FBI isn’t sure they’re connected to him, but they have reason to wonder if they’re related.” Tally shrugged. “No song sheets were found in the other cases, B.E.K.’s calling card. It’s possible he doesn’t use the song with every killing. At this point, we have no way of knowing.”
“I find it interesting that this guy never left behind a clue—except for Tammy Rice—and then the Barton woman.”
“We believe he grew more sophisticated as he escalated. That’s why Tammy was found. He hadn’t formulated his modus operandi yet. He’s not stupid. In fact, even though he’s clearly insane, he’s cagey. He’s learned how to keep a crime scene clean of evidence. We suspect he wears gloves, even the kind of booties we wear to crime scenes. I think he covers his clothes in some way, too. Very smart. Careful. To be honest, Alan Gerard didn’t fit the profile we had of B.E.K. Never seemed intelligent enough to pull off all these murders without tripping himself up. And he had a job in the public. We saw B.E.K. as someone who has trouble connecting with people. A loner. Gerard is much more social, although most people who knew him found him rather odd. He wasn’t what you’d call a popular person.”
Batterson pushed his glasses back off his nose and rubbed his temples. He had another headache that just wouldn’t quit. “So we don’t know exactly who this serial killer is. All we really know is that a man who called himself Malcolm Bodine murdered Tammy Rice and Ann Barton.”
“And Kelly O’Brien?”
Batterson sighed. “I’m not sure. Tony DeLuca, one of my deputies, feels strongly that Alan Gerard really did kill Kelly. He has a lot of faith in her twin sister Kate’s testimony. In fact, that’s where he is now. With Kate. I can’t tell you where. I’m sure you understand.”
Tally nodded. “I do. Can I ask why he’s with her?”
“Sure. We thought we were bringing her back to testify against Gerard since the DNA evidence was thrown out. O’Brien’s testimony is the only thing that can put Gerard back in prison.” He frowned at Tally. “Of course, at this point most people assume he’s innocent. I’m not sure he’ll be tried again.”
“They’d have to find him to try him. As far as I know, he’s still in the wind.”
“That’s another thing that bothers me. If he’s innocent, why did he run?”
“I have no idea. His attorneys aren’t too happy about it. Neither is the court. He has the right to do what he wants since there aren’t any charges against him right now, but he was advised to stay in the area.”
Batterson took a deep breath. “Between us, O’Brien’s been abducted.”
Tally’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What? You think Gerard has her?”
“Well, he takes off and O’Brien is kidnapped. You can understand why I’d suspect him.”
Tally was quiet for a moment. “This makes it look like he really did kill her sister. Maybe he wants to finish what he started?”
“That’s just it. Maybe, maybe, maybe. This is one of the most confusing cases I’ve ever faced. And now my deputy is knee-deep in it.”
“What do you mean?”
Batterson studied Tally for a few seconds before answering. Mark St. Laurent and Mercy Brennan trusted this man with their lives. And he trusted them. “Some guy in the town where Kate was relocated to told DeLuca he knew the direction her abductor took her. Instead of waiting for the FBI and local LEOs to organize a search, DeLuca took off with this guy. He was afraid she’d be long gone by the time the search personnel were ready.”
“Sounds reasonable.”
“But we lost contact with him and they’ve been hit with heavy rains on the mountain where they all are. Everyone’s waiting for the weather to clear before launching their search. Seems too much rain can cause flash flooding there. Makes it incredibly risky for search crews.”
“Well, as you know, most LEOs would march into hell to assist someone who needs it—but if they don’t survive, they’re not helping anyone. The victim or their own families.”
Batterson grunted. “I agree, but it’s frustrating. I’m worried about O’Brien, and I’m also concerned about my deputy.”
“I get that.” Tally leaned forward in his chair. “Is there anything I can tell you that will help?”
Batterson sighed. “The FBI keeps their cases close to the vest, so I’m not sure you have any information I don’t.”
Tally smiled. “I have a good friend in the FBI. I may know more than you think. Ask away.”
“What do you know about Malcolm Bodine? I mean, we’ve heard that he killed Rice and Barton—but just who was he?”
“Interesting question. Remember that we’re only a little over a week into this investigation, so we’re really at the beginning of this thing. But I can tell you that the real Malcolm Bodine died when he was ten years old. He lived in Oklahoma. There’s no evidence our killer came from there. I think our Bodine acquired the name and Social Security number from some online database and carried on with his life. That takes some skills. The guy wasn’t dumb. The FBI doesn’t have a clue about his real identity. He didn’t show up in CODIS, NDIS, or AFIS.”
“So he’d never been fingerprinted or arrested? Great. How does someone who murders innocent people stay off the grid?”
“It’s been done, but you’ve gotta be smart.” His forehead furrowed. “And that’s the odd thing. From what I’ve learned about Bodine, he wasn’t the brightest pencil in the box. People who knew him described him as quiet, a little slow. His last job was as a busboy in a restaurant. Hardly sounds like a criminal mastermind. Just like Gerard, he didn’t live up to our profile.”
“Yet we’ve seen other serial killers with low-end jobs who didn’t stand out in a crowd.”
Tally nodded. “True.”
“So we don’t know where this guy came from? If he lived near Rice or Barton?”
“No idea. Obviously he was there, but there’s no evidence he lived in the area. As I’m sure you know, not all serial killers stay in their hometowns. Sometimes they move to areas where they’re not known to start their reign of terror. Since no one’s been able to uncover Bodine’s real identity, the trail’s pretty cold. It’s gonna take something unusual to figure out where he’s from. Evidence we haven’t found yet.”
“His picture hasn’t been released to the public, has it?”
“No, just to law enforcement. But the FBI will have to send it to the media soon. Hopefully, that will bring some information. Maybe we can track where he’s been and figure out where he stashed his victims’ bodies.” He sighed. “Of course, going public will also bring out the kooks and everyone else who thinks they know B.E.K. It’ll be a nightmare trying to weed out useless calls from any that might actually help.”
“What about the woman whose grave Ann Barton’s body was buried in?”
“FBI checked her out but couldn’t find any connection at all. The woman died in an accident. It wasn’t murder. They think her grave was used as a convenient body dump.”
Batterson drummed his fingers on his desk. “You’ve got good instincts, Lieutenant. Do you think Gerard has O’Brien?”
Tally sighed deeply. “I honestly don’t know. I wish I could tell you. Your deputy thinks he killed Kelly O’Brien and he’s back for her sister? If you trust his gut, I’d go with that.”
“Well, I trusted him until he took off on his own. Left a note explaining himself with someone in the sheriff’s department down there. Now a sheriff’s deputy is missing, too. At this point, we have some fishing resort owner, my deputy, Kate O’Brien, and Deputy Warren Killian running around somewhere in the Ouachita Mountains.”
Tally frowned at him. “Did you say . . . Warren Killian?”
Batterson nodded. “I think that’s right.” He shuffled some papers on his desk until he pulled out a copy of the note Tony had left with the sheriff’s department. In the corner, Batterson had scribbled the name Warren Killian. “Yeah. That’s the man DeLuca sent this message to originally. Is something wrong?”
“Tammy Rice’s son’s name is Warren Killian. She was married briefly, but when her husband took off, she went back to her maiden name. Killian’s an unusual name. Hard to believe it’s not the same guy. I don’t suppose you have a picture or anything?”
“No, but I can contact the sheriff’s department and request one. Shouldn’t take long.” Batterson pulled his keyboard over and began typing. Within seconds, he was requesting information from the sheriff’s office in Shelter Cove. When he typed in the name Warren Killian, it took only a few seconds for a page with a picture to pop up on his screen. “Here he is,” he said to Tally. He swung his screen around so Tally could see it.
“It’s been a while, but I’m sure that’s him.” Tally pointed to a rather large spot near the deputy’s ear. “I remember this mole.” He frowned at Batterson. “You say this man works near your witness?”
Batterson nodded. “I believe he lives in the same town.”
“When Tammy was killed, they suspected Warren at first, but after investigating, they discovered he had an airtight alibi. Then Ann Barton disappeared. The song sheet was left behind—just like it was with Tammy. That’s when authorities started looking for a serial killer and quit paying attention to Warren.”
“You think they were wrong? That Warren was involved?”
Tally shook his head. “No. His alibi was unshakable, but right now I have to ask myself what the son of one of the Blue-Eyed Killer’s victims is doing on that mountain. Is he after Gerard? Or does he have another agenda?”
Batterson moved his computer screen back into place. “Maybe Bodine wasn’t working alone.”
Tally didn’t respond, but Batterson was pretty sure they were both thinking the same thing. DeLuca and O’Brien could be in more danger than they realized, and there was no way to warn them.