Triptych (Will Trent 1)
“Angie,” was all he could say.
She was silent, letting a couple of cars pass before she said, “Remember I told you that Michael Ormewood came by here that one time?”
He was sick of hearing about Ormewood. If he never heard the man’s name again, Will would die a happy man.
Angie said, “He told us to look out for a recently released sex offender named John Shelley. He said he was really a bad guy and to stay away from him.” She looked down at the rap sheet. “Michael went to Decatur High School. He must have grown up in the area.”
“Did you manage to ask him about his childhood years while you were going down on him?”
“Do you want me to go down on you, too, Will? Is that what this is about?”
He slapped her hand away. “Stop it.”
She told him, “I read his personnel file.”
“You’re real interested in Michael for some reason. Why is he different? What makes him so special?”
“You’re not listening to what I’m saying.” She was talking to him like he was a child and he did not like it. “Michael went to Decatur High School, so he must have lived in the area. He was a few years older than John, but he would have heard about the crime. He would have known the details about the tongue. Why didn’t he mention it to you? Why didn’t he say, ‘Hey, this reminds me of something that happened about twenty years ago right down the street from me.’ ”
Will was too upset to even consider the question.
She said, “John told me that someone was blackmailing him.”
Will laughed. “You think that Michael Ormewood knows there’s a guy out there raping and murdering women, taking out their tongues, but instead of arresting the doer, Michael’s blackmailing him? For what? What could John Shelley possibly have that Michael Ormewood would want?”
“How do you explain Michael telling me to look out for John Shelley? How do you explain his not mentioning this same thing happening to a girl in the same neighborhood where he grew up?”
Will tried to make her see reason. “How do you explain the other girls?”
“What other girls?”
“Last year, two girls were sexually assaulted by a man wearing a black ski mask. Both of them had their tongues bitten off.”
Her lips parted in surprise.
“John Shelley’s been out seven months,” Will told her. “Both girls lived thirty, forty minutes away from here.” She was silent, so he added, “Julie Cooper’s fifteen. The other girl was only fourteen. What do these crimes have in common? What’s the link here?”
Angie said, “You know perps have their way of doing things. Why would he deviate? Why would he cut off some and bite off the others? Why would he go from little girls to a grown woman?”
Will recalled Michael’s answer to this question, but he did not share it with Angie.
She asked, “Why didn’t you tell me about the other cases before?”
“When, Angie? Over dinner? Maybe when we were holding hands, taking a long stroll in the park?”
“You could have told me.”
“Why?” he asked. “Who knew you’d end up screwing around with a convicted pedophile?”
Her head jerked up. “I haven’t slept with him.”
“Yet.”
Angie gave a heavy sigh.
“Here’s an indisputable fact: Shelley raped and killed a fifteen-year-old girl. He cut out her tongue.”
“He’s not…” She looked back at Shelley’s photograph. “Whatever he did, he’s not that guy anymore.”
“Julie Cooper was fifteen,” Will told her. “He raped her in an alley behind a movie theater. He bit off her tongue.”
Angie shook her head.
“Anna Linder was fourteen. They found her in Stone Mountain Park the next day. She was holding her tongue in her hand like a security blanket. They had to pry it from her fingers.”
Angie still did not respond.
“Cynthia Barrett, Angie. Cynthia Barrett was fifteen.”
“Michael’s neighbor.”
Will shrugged. “So what?”
“Tell me this: How do they know each other? How did Michael know to warn me off him in the first place?” She indicated the liquor store with an angry wave of her hand. “You weren’t there when he did it. There’s something between them. Michael hates the guy.”
“What else am I missing here?” Will asked. “Because what it sounds like to me is that you’re so pissed at Michael Ormewood that you can’t see straight. Why is that, Angie? Why can’t you get this asshole out of your system?”
He could see the fury in her eyes, knew she was remembering the millions of times he had asked her this before.
Her voice was eerily calm when she said, “Did you ask Michael how old his wife was when he met her?” She didn’t let him respond. “She was fifteen, Will. He was twenty-five.”
“Did he rape her and bite out her tongue?” Will asked. “Because, unless he did, I don’t see why that makes a bit of difference.”
“I’m telling you, John didn’t do this.”
“I’ll ask him myself when I bring him in.”
“No.” She grabbed his arm as if she could physically stop him. “I’ll do it.”
Will could only stare at her. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“The minute you put those cuffs on him, he’s shutting down.”
“You don’t know that.”
“He’s a con. Of course he’ll shut down. He won’t so much as fart until his lawyer shows up, and then the lawyer will tell you to go fuck yourself.”
“You’re not going to control this.”
“What’s the charge? Jaywalking?” She raised her eyebrows, as if she expected an answer. “You can bring him in for questioning, but what do you have? You can search his place, but what are you going to tell the judge when you ask for the warrant? ‘He did it twenty years ago, Your Honor, so maybe, probably, possibly he could have done it again now?’ ” Angie crossed her arms. “Last time I checked, unless you’re the president of the United States, you need some kind of evidence to throw a guy in jail.”
Will did not answer because he knew that she was right.
“Do you have John’s fingerprints on anything? Any witnesses? Anybody who saw anything?”
Jasmine, Will thought. Maybe she saw something. If she did, she was probably at the bottom of a lake right now.
Angie summed it up: “No forensic evidence, no witnesses and no case. You’re right, Will. Let’s go out and arrest him right now, why don’t we?”
“He could be stalking his next victim,” Will said, not adding that Angie could very well be the next woman he set his sights on.
“If you arrest him now, you’ll have to kick him in twenty-four hours, and if it is Shelley who’s doing this, then he’ll know you’re on to him and he’ll go so deep underground that you’ll never find him again.”
“What do you propose I do? Wait until another girl is raped? Maybe murdered?” Will pointed out, “He could already have his next victim right now, Angie. What if he’s got Jasmine? Am I supposed to sit around while she’s counting down the minutes left in her life?”