CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

 

Ashley Leighton was only too happy to be back on the job. She was serious about her goal to someday make detective rank. She was thankful to have survived the tumultuous years with Robert in one piece and that he had also pulled through his brush with death. She hoped he would own up to the pain he’d caused her and get the help he needed to deal with his issues of anger, power, and insecurity.

It had really thrown Ashley for a loop that Robert had set fire to S.A.W. House. Luckily, no one had been hurt. Robert had admitted to the crime and hoped to plea bargain his way out of it and somehow salvage his life and reputation.

But there had been far too much pain between them to ever get back together as husband and wife. Ashley suspected he was beginning to come to terms with that, no matter how difficult it was for him to accept.

She had gotten right back into her work, barely missing a beat after her self-imposed sabbatical and a mandatory internal affairs investigation following the shooting of her husband. She had been part of the team that discovered Michel Giovanni’s body in the motel room, seemingly wrapping up more than one investigation in the process.

Now she was determined to show the department that her personal problems did not affect her ability as a police officer.

Ashley made her way to Detective Dennis Cramer’s office. She knocked once on the open door, and saw that he was on the phone.

Cramer waved Ashley in. She was relieved that he had gone out of his way to welcome her back to the job and offer any help he could give, as had many of her co-workers. Now she hoped to give something back.

Ashley walked up to his desk, holding a folder.

Cramer cut short his conversation and looked up at her with mild concern. “Leighton. Everything okay?”

“Fine, Sir.”

“So how can I help you?”

Ashley could barely contain her enthusiasm. She had discovered some vital information she felt might reopen a case that had been officially closed. “I have something here that I think you ought to see—”

“Yeah...” Cramer watched as Ashley opened the folder and removed a couple of printouts, passing one across the desk. “What’s this?” he asked before looking.

“A partial thumbprint found in the apartment of Lynda Franklin that was accidentally misplaced,” Ashley told him. “When I found it, I ran it through the computer. It matched a print we lifted from Giovanni’s motel room. Apparently the investigators failed to follow up on it, with all the evidence pointing towards Giovanni...”

Ashley paused before delivering the punch line that she was sure would be a knockout blow.

“Both prints belong to one Eric Tyler,” she said. “Thirteen years ago Tyler served time in Nevada for the attempted strangulation of a woman he’d been stalking. And now his prints have been found in two places connected to our case, which causes one to raise an eyebrow.”

“Are you suggesting that Tyler was Giovanni’s partner?” Cramer asked.

“No,” Ashley said quickly. “I cross checked Tyler’s fingerprints and discovered that he’s been using an alias for over a decade, which is probably why he didn’t show up in our criminal investigations of The Woods residents. Along with the fact that he’s stayed under the radar in his new life.” She handed Cramer the other printout. “Mr. Tyler calls himself Julian McKenzie. He’s a local firefighter and—”

“I know McKenzie,” Cramer said. He looked at the mug shot and his record for a minor offense. “He lives down the street from me—”

Ashley wasn’t done yet. “Sir, I think there’s a good chance Michel Giovanni was setup up by McKenzie for The Woods murders. And even Giovanni’s so-called suicide has to be called into question now.”

Cramer stood up and muttered an expletive. “How the hell did we miss this?”

“You weren’t looking for it, Sir.”

“But we should have been,” he said. “You might be onto something here, Leighton. And I emphasize might.”

“I understand,” Ashley said, trying to keep from smiling.

“I need you to make some calls for me,” Cramer said, and gave her the names of who to call.

“I’ll get right on it.”

Cramer nodded. “In the meantime, I’m going to run this by Rawlings and the chief. And I’ll also be paying Julian McKenzie a little visit—”

“I’m sure he won’t be expecting it,” Ashley said.

“You did real good, Leighton,” Cramer told her. “Maybe too damned good.”

Ashley couldn’t resist a smile. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, Sir.”

Ashley had a feeling this case was about to break wide open, thanks to her efforts. She was happy to once again contribute to a job she loved.

* * *

Dennis Cramer could scarcely believe that what had seemed like an over-and-done-with investigation had suddenly been given new life. And a potentially explosive one at that. The task force had already been disassembled and detectives assigned to new cases. If there was even a slight chance that Michel Giovanni was not the killer, it was up to Cramer to go after viable alternatives.

And Eric Tyler, aka Julian McKenzie, seemed to fit the bill to perfection.

Cramer was en route to the fire station, where the suspect was said to have been. McKenzie had been more or less cleared in their earlier attempts to weed out the suspects living in The Woods. Without knowing about his criminal background as Eric Tyler, only a minor infraction for violating a local ordinance had appeared under Julian McKenzie’s name in criminal records.

He had us all completely fooled. Cramer had believed that McKenzie—a church-going husband, father, and firefighter—hardly fit the bill of a cold-blooded serial killer, especially when the tracks always pointed in another direction. He held out hope that McKenzie could somehow explain his way out of this, but he wasn’t feeling very optimistic about it.

Cramer arrived at the fire station. Geoffrey Rawlings was meeting him there, along with backup officers in case the suspect resisted arrest. In the interim, search warrants had already been issued for Julian McKenzie’s residence and vehicle.

“You really think this guy is that clever to have planted the evidence on Giovanni, making him out to be a serial killer who then takes his life?” Rawlings shot Cramer a look of skepticism as they headed on foot past a newly washed fire truck.

“All I know is he isn’t who he says he is,” Cramer said sourly. “I also know McKenzie was in places he shouldn’t have been, and never bothered to tell us. And he’s also served time for attempting to strangle a woman. In my book, that’s more than enough reason to bring him in.”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

“If this is all some big misunderstanding, I’m sure McKenzie will clear it up for us. But I doubt it. My gut instinct tells me he’s bad news—and it could get much worse unless we catch up to him before he’s onto us.”

They went inside and were greeted by the fire chief, Larry Weaver.

“Julian’s shift isn’t for another couple of hours,” Larry said. “What do the police want with him?”

“We just need to ask him some questions,” Cramer said nonchalantly. No reason to create a buzz yet.

“About what?”

“Let’s just leave it at that,” Rawlings said tersely.

Cramer had another thought. “Has McKenzie’s work record been pretty steady? Regular hours?”

“There’s no such thing as regular hours for a firefighter,” Larry said. “Much like with you guys. We work all hours as needed. But McKenzie’s been fairly dependable on the job, if that’s what you’re asking, except when he takes time off for church-related activities. Or when his wife or one of the kids is sick.”

Cramer handed the fire chief the search warrant, allowing them to go through McKenzie’s locker and any personal effects they could find that could be used as evidence against him.

A little later, detectives who were at the suspect’s house informed Cramer that Julian McKenzie was nowhere to be found. They put out an APB for his arrest as a person of interest.