Page 14 of Scorched (Killer #2)
Paul accompanied the sheriff to the apartment.
The Hilltop Apartments manager, Mrs. Holzhauer, stood at the open door to Mary Alice Fenton’s second-floor apartment, clutching a folded paper in her hand.
“I didn’t touch anything, just like you said.
Well, except when I went inside to ask why Miss Fenton left her door open.
The place was a mess, but Miss Fenton wasn’t home.
If the door hadn’t been standing wide open, I wouldn’t have thought anything of it.
” The older woman sucked in a breath and let it out.
“I called her work number, and they said she didn’t report to work this morning.
They left a message on her voice mail, but she didn’t call back. ”
“You did all the right things, Mrs. Holzhauer.” Sheriff Engel patted the woman’s shoulder.
She wrung her hands, her narrow frame clad in a gray polyester pantsuit looked as gray as the overcast sky. “I saw the local news. I know they found a woman murdered just yesterday, but they haven’t released her name. I just wondered...”
Paul hung back and let the sheriff take the lead.
“It wasn’t Mary Alice, Mrs. Holzhauer.” Sheriff Engel took a notebook out of his pocket. “Do you have Miss Fenton’s cell phone number?”
“It’s not on her application, just her work number.” Mrs. Holzhauer stared at the paper in her hand. “I know she has a cell phone because I saw her talking on one when she drove out of here yesterday morning to go to work.”
The sheriff leaned over Mrs. Holzhauer’s shoulder to look at the paper she held. “What about an emergency contact?”
Mrs. Holzhauer shoved the paper toward him. “I pulled her application from the file. The number listed is her mother’s.” The older woman shook her head. “It’s a horrible thing to report to a mother.”
The sheriff shook his head as he scanned the application. “Now, Mrs. Holzhauer, we don’t know that anything untoward has happened to Mary Alice.”
“I know, I know, but still...” She wrung her hands, her gaze following the sheriff through the door of the empty apartment. “You think the same guy that got the other lady might have Mary Alice?”
Paul stepped forward. “Mrs. Holzhauer, we don’t know, but we’ll do the best we can to find out. For now, we need to look around. Will you be all right by yourself in your office?”
Mrs. Holzhauer nodded, backing away, taking Paul’s hint.
“I called my sister-in-law. She said she’d come to keep me company the rest of the day if necessary.
If you need anything, just ask.” She hurried down the metal steps, glancing all around before she exited the building to walk across the parking lot.
Paul shook his head. It was a lousy way to live when a woman had to be afraid of walking from one building to another in broad daylight.
He followed Sheriff Engel into the apartment, careful not to disturb anything that could be classified as evidence.
The police officer who’d been the first on scene waited in the parking lot for the state crime lab team.
Technically, the woman hadn’t been reported missing by her family, and she hadn’t been missing long enough to qualify for a missing persons report. But with the discovery of a murdered woman only a day prior to Mary Alice’s disappearance, the sheriff had to take action.
The small apartment had a collection of mismatched furniture, likely thrift shop specials or hand-me-downs from family members.
A pair of jeans hung from the corner of a door, stretched out as if to dry.
A plate with a piece of leftover pizza was on the table, the pizza only half eaten as if Mary Alice had planned to finish it.
The sheriff’s gaze panned the room. “No signs of forced entry, no signs of struggle. You see anything different?”
Paul shook his head, staring at the pizza. “She might have been eating the pizza when someone came to the door.”
“With no signs of forced entry, I’d venture to guess she opened the door. The chain is still intact, so she didn’t feel threatened by whoever stood on the other side.”
“Someone she knew, maybe.”
“Or someone she’d trust.”
“What about her purse?” Paul nodded toward the black leather bag on the counter, a set of car keys lying next to it.
The sheriff used his pen to push the purse open and peered inside. “The wallet’s inside.”
“Cell phone?”
“No.” The sheriff pulled out his own phone and hit the speed dial. “I’ll get her cell phone number from her employer. I hate to think we might have a serial killer on our hands. But with one woman dead already, I’m willing to bet Mary Alice’s disappearance is related.”
While the sheriff placed his call to the state police, Paul worked his way around the room and into the bedroom, careful not to touch anything.
The covers on the bed lay in disarray but not like a struggle had taken place.
More like someone who didn’t make the bed after sleeping in it.
In the bathroom, cosmetics and perfume littered the counter but no sign of a cell phone .
The sheriff’s voice carried to him from the other room.
When he emerged, the sheriff was hitting the off button on his cell phone.
“Not a robbery or they would have taken the purse and the car.” Paul circled the living room, pausing to stare at a picture sitting on the end table beside a faded blue couch.
Both people in the photo were smiling. The young man, possibly in his late twenties, and the young woman, vaguely familiar with long blond hair and blue eyes.
Paul’s heart plunged to his stomach, churning the food he’d eaten earlier. “This must be Mary Alice.”
The sheriff moved to join Paul by the couch. “I’ve seen her around town. Always has a smile.”
“Know the guy in this picture?”
The sheriff bent forward and stared hard at the man in the picture. “He looks like the police officer assigned to the high school.”
“What?” Paul straightened, his heart leaping against his chest, pounding so hard he couldn’t hear himself think.
The sheriff frowned at him. “Is there something wrong with that? I’ve met him once or twice at football games at the high school stadium. Last name’s West.” The sheriff scratched his chin. “Colton West, if I’m not mistaken. Kinda new. Only been on the city police force for two or three months.”
The urge to get to the high school and find Officer Colton West hit Paul hard, but he kept his cool in front of the sheriff.
He wanted to get to Elise as quickly as possible.
Whoever had left Elise the note in her box had access to the school.
A campus police officer had access to every place on campus, including the front office.
“Let’s start there. Maybe he can help us pinpoint the last time she’d been seen. ”
“Yeah. As soon as the state police crime scene investigators arrive, I’m on it.”
“I have to make some calls to check in with the office. Want to meet up at the high school in, say an hour?”
“I’ll meet you there.” The sheriff returned his attention to the notebook in his hand, scribbling words on the page.
Paul left the apartment complex and pushed the posted speed limits on his way to the high school on the other side of Breuer.
At a stop light, he dialed Brian.
“Hey, Fletcher.”
“Anything on that phone call?”
“Got an electronic copy of your phone records just a few minutes ago. The fastest I’ve ever gotten anything from the phone company. Gotta love technology.”
Paul wanted to tell Brian to get to the point. The light changed and he concentrated on making a left turn onto Main Street.
“Anyway, I scanned for the time you gave me and sure enough, there was a phone call from a cell phone. Only the cell phone was a burner, one of those disposable types you can’t trace.”
“Great.” Another dead end and his killer was using all the tricks.
“I’m trying to trace the phone back to the dealer. Maybe we can get an ID on the person who bought it.”
“Thanks, Brian.” Paul hung up and resisted the urge to throw his cell phone out the window. They were running out of time on this case. Another woman could be fighting for her life as they chased dead-end clues.
The afternoon had passed, and school would be getting out soon.
As he pulled into the parking lot, the boy he’d caught giving Elise hell sprinted past him.
A man dressed in the solid black uniform of the Breuer Police Department pounded the pavement after the kid.
The kid had a good hundred yards on the officer.
Unless he was in better shape than a seventeen-year-old, he didn’t stand a chance of capturing the punk.
Unfortunately, the cop chasing the kid was the one Paul wanted to talk to.
The best way to speed this up was to slow the kid down.
Paul whipped his vehicle around and raced after the punk, pulling in front of him. He spun his steering wheel hard to the left, spinning the car broadside on the road leading out of the high school campus. Paul leaped out and gave chase.
The young man changed directions and ran for the five-foot-tall, chain-link fence bordering the road. With the ease of youth, he grabbed the wire, and vaulted over the top. He dropped to the ground on the other side and disappeared between the tightly packed houses of a neighborhood.
By the time Paul could get over the fence, the kid would be long gone.
The cop skidded to a halt in front of Paul. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t haul your butt to jail for driving like that on a school campus.” He sucked in enough air to fill his lungs, his dark-eyed gaze angry.
Raising his hands, Paul smiled. “Hey, I was only trying to slow him down.”
“We know where he lives. I’ll catch up with him later.”
Paul pulled out his FBI credentials. “FBI Special Agent Paul Fletcher.”
The cop’s hands slid off his hips and he relaxed a little. “Okay, that’s a reason. I’m not so sure it’s good enough to justify reckless driving on campus, but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. What brings you here?”