BODY COUNT: Killers (a novel): Chapter 11. Situations

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Two days later, when Taylor arrived at his office, he noticed Wayne moving around in the – what everybody was calling his – “situation room.” Taylor could see much of the room through his own door and the room’s glass paneling along the walkway.
    Taylor headed around the walkway, and as he approached the “situation room,” he could see that Wayne had a cot against the wall. He opened the door. “What’s going on, Wayne?”
    “Taylor, I didn’t see you coming.” Wayne was surprised and showed it. “I can’t figure out why this guy picks the places he’s hunting in, and without that, I don’t know how to trap him. I’m sorry, but I can’t come up with a plan that makes any sense.”
    Taylor waved his arms around the room. “All this looks good on TV, but the truth is, crimes are solved on the streets, not in a fancy room with boards and pin-ups.”
    “I’m all for that, but where do I start? We have no eyewitness, we have no evidence from the crime scenes. The guy’s like a ghost – he shows up, he kills, and in a puff of smoke, he’s gone.”
    “Stop shaving your beard. Go to a Goodwill store and buy some old clothes – the worse they look, the better. Then become a homeless person, walk the streets where this killer walks, get a feel for the lay of the land, taste the air the killer breathes. Do it until you become him. Then when you look at a location, you’ll see what he’s seeing through his eyes and you’ll be astonished at what you overlooked. There’s a reason why he picks these locations – you just can’t see it.”
    Wayne looked around the room and began to laugh. “You could’ve saved me a lot of work if you’d told me that two days ago.”
    “Two days ago you weren’t ready to hear it.” Taylor left and headed for Operations. He entered and found the doors of the connected offices closed. “Peter, Mary,” he said loudly, “I would like to speak to you. Now.”
    The two stepped out of their offices and stood before Taylor not sure what they had done wrong. Taylor pointed across at Wayne cleaning up his mess. “Do not be a part of anything like that again. You have a job to do; each of us has a job to do. If Blake or I had wanted a situation room, we would have created one. Instead, we hired a profiler and a computer expert. If you’re doing your job, there’s no need for a ‘situation room’.”
    He turned to leave. “Do your job!”
    Mary and Peter watched him walk back to his office. Peter looked across at Wayne. “I guess he’s right. It didn’t seem to help Wayne.” Peter went back to his office, leaving Mary standing alone in the big conference room.
    Mary had never been dressed down before and she didn’t know what to say or think about it. She wanted to cry but then realized she was too mad to cry. How dare Taylor talk to her like that! When Blake returned she would have a word with him about such treatment. Which reminded her that she had just formulated a profile of the “Preacher Killer” to send off to him.
    Blake’s phone beeped while he and his two colleagues were in the church sweeping out the dirt and bird droppings. He extracted it and saw he had a text. He told Shelley and Bobby, “Hey, let’s take a break. I’ve got a text from Mary Winehouse. Let’s step outside and see what it says.”
    They sat on the front porch to learn what Mary had to say. Blake read the text aloud:

The killer is male and strong. He may be in his late thirties, early forties. He is not killing the peachers so much as the religion or the idea of religion. Something happened in the killer’s life that turned him against the church. I believe you will find that at one time he was very religious, maybe even a preacher. Be careful: this person doesn’t kill because he likes killing. He hates preachers and what they represent. You showing up will trigger a response. He won’t be able to stop himself.

    Shelley said, “That’s not much help. She describes 99% of the men that live around here.”
    Bobby said, “You know, I don’t think that’s true. Whatever happened started here. This was kill number one, and I’ll bet our killer went to this church.”
    Blake put his phone away. “You have a point, Bobby. It’s time we rode into town and introduced ourselves. We need to start meeting the old members of the church. Wear your camera pins. We’ll have Peter run the pictures we take today and get us a background check on each person we speak to.”
    There was a Lowe’s Hardware on the outskirts of town that they had passed on their way in, but Blake was looking for the family-owned hardware store that he was sure the town had somewhere. That was where the history of the town rested. He spotted it by its sign, “B&J Family Hardware,” and parked his Jeep in front of it.
    The little bell over the door rang as they entered and from out of the back room came a gray-haired man with a big smile. “Welcome to Family Hardware! What can I get for you today?”
    “I’m Blake Henry, and this is Pastor Lee and his wife. We’re repairing the old church on Farm Road 20. Do you know it?”
    “Everybody around here knows that church. It’s where the preacher, his kid, and his wife were murdered.”
    “Yes, we have heard about that. Satan can kill the body but not the spirit. We’re here to bring the Word back into the darkness.”
    “You a preacher also, Mr. Henry?”
    “I do carry the title of pastor, but I do little preaching these days. I spend most of my time opening new churches, like re-opening this one.”
    The hardware proprietor put out his hand toward Bobby. “Welcome, Pastor Lee. I’m Howard Jenkins. I think you’ll find everything you need here and there’s a 10% discount for churches.”
    Bobby shook his hand. “Thank you, Mister Jenkins. I guess you wouldn’t know any of the former members of my church, would you?”
    “I’m afraid there weren’t that many of them, and I do know them all. If you want to shop around, I’ll put together a list of names, along with their phone numbers and addresses.”
    They picked up a couple of boxes of nails and two hammers and a handsaw, and then three cans of white paint, brushes, and turpentine.
    By the time they finished, Mr. Jenkins had their list ready. He handed it to them and began to ring up their stuff. “You’re not going to find anyone home until after 5:30. Everybody works. Tomorrow is Saturday and you might stand a better chance of catching them at home then.”
    Bobby smiled and picked up one of the bags. “Thank you for the list, and the advice.”
    Blake and Shelley grabbed a bag each and bid the friendly Mr. Jenkins a good afternoon. They drove back to the church to map out their attack for the next day.
    When they turned off the road, they saw Betty’s car parked at the church. Blake pulled alongside and they all got out. Betty was sitting on the porch. “I was about to give up on you.”
    Blake set his bag down on the porch. “We needed supplies.” He took a seat next to her as Bobby and Shelley carried the supplies into the church. “What can we do for you, Betty?”
    “It’s the first Friday in November and a good time for a harvest festival. It’ll probably be the last one of the season. It’s still warm but those northern cold fronts are getting closer. I thought I would have an outdoor barbecue while I can, and wanted to invite you all to dinner.”
    “That sounds wonderful. Should we bring the beer?”
    Betty’s eyes narrowed. “You allow beer-drinking in your church?”
    “Not all religions ban drinking. Of course, we don’t promote it literally in the church. But let’s face it, most parishioners leave the church, go home to a football game on TV, and open a beer. We prefer to be up-front about it.”
    “In that case, Mr. Henry, you may bring the beer. I’m throwing the meat on at 6:00.” She walked to her car and Blake followed her alluring sway with a twinge of physical desire.
    Shelley came out just in time to witness this. “Fine ass for an old lady.”
    Blake stood up and went inside. “Yes, it is.”

Copyright © 2019, 2020 by Ed Rogers