Chapter 34 Reversed King of Swords

Reversed Seven of Coins, Seven of Swords, Reversed King of Swords, 

~~~

Parking in front of the Golden Police Department, Tim got out and went to the front desk. He signed in and introduced himself, giving the name of the detective Lloyd texted him.

"Deputy Ballard, you're lucky I came in today. I'll take you down to the cold case evidence room."

"Thank you, Detective Flatiron." Tim felt like an imposter but on the drive, Lloyd had told him everything he needed to do to handle the evidence properly.

"Do you really think you have a lead in the Popup House Party Murder?" The detective asked as they went down in the elevator.

"Yes, we believe the same killer murdered four people in our county and a dozen more across several states. He tends to make his murders look like accidental deaths, suicides, or murder suicides, but we have found a pattern," answered Tim but he didn't want to say too much.

"You seem nervous," The detective observed as he unlocked a door and led Tim into a room filled with boxes.

"I'm more of a consultant than an officer," Tim admitted then added, "And we know the killer has murdered at least three officers, possibly including Detective Stonewall. Did you know him?"

Detective Flatiron stumbled then turned to face him. "What? But... Didn't he die in an accident."

"We don't think so. The suspect is very clever when it comes to setting up his murder scenes. He is intelligent enough to impersonate a State Patrol Officer for three years convincingly. The FBI has come to help us."

Swearing softly under his breath, Flatiron looked at the clipboard he was carrying. "The boxes are over here. There are five."

He stopped in front of one of the tall shelving units then pulled a rolling stair over. He climbed up and pulled a box off the shelf. He scowled as he carried it down and handed it to Tim. To Tim, the box felt empty and so did the two others Flatiron put on top of it. Tim followed him over to a table and then put on gloves before cutting the tape and opening the boxes. They were empty and the case file folder was filled with blank papers. The evidence was gone.

"Who else had access to these?" Tim demanded. "Are there digital copies?"

Flatiron logged into a computer, entered the case number and then opened the folder with the case notes. All the letters and numbers were replaced with Xs.

"I need to get the signature log. Stay here." Flatiron walked away quickly.

Tim tabbed through the pages. The file wasn't erased, it was overwritten which meant the data was lost. Flatiron came back.

"Six months after Stonewall died, a C.B.I. agent came to look at the evidence three times in two days."

"And that didn't raise any red flags?" Tim used his phone to take a picture of the page.

"No. The evidence can't leave here without judge-signed paperwork, and it can only go to another law enforcement agency through a certified courier. Agents and investigators can spend days going over evidence." Flatiron rubbed his forehead, then looked at the boxes. "You said he killed four people in your county?"

"In less than a year... The first was set to look like a suicide, the second and third were made to look like a murder-suicide but the arson he attempted to hide the evidence failed, and the fourth was killed and kept in a freezer so he could stage his own death and have a body to leave behind. He was also stalking two other women before we caught onto him. We have found several of his victims in cases that were considered closed."

"Damn... I need to check the rest of the boxes for missing evidence and cross-reference them with closed ones."

"I'll help you," Tim offered.

Flatiron shook his head, refusing, "It has to be interdepartmental. I'll get some officers to help me. Are you staying in town?"

Frustrated, Tim inhaled through his mouth and out his nose to calm himself before he answered. "I can. How long will it take?"

"Do you have a time frame for when he was in this area?"

"At least the last five years. Three or so years ago he killed a brother and sister in Montana, but we know he was travelling between the two states and Washington during that time." Tim revealed and Flatiron groaned.

"It will take time. I'll get a memo out to the other local departments to look at their cold cases and suicides or murder-suicides to check for missing evidence. Is there anything we should be looking for in particular?"

"The murders of the women are all staged like sex scenes from the books of the erotic romance writer, Mayibe Chained. The men are just props for his sick games," Tim revealed, then added, "We have identities going back a decade and we suspect he had already acted out over forty of the scenes. In the videos, he always tells them they are going to enjoy their favorite scene."

"There are videos?" Flatiron looked shocked, then shuddered. "Dear lord, those poor women... We'll work as fast as we can. You should talk to Stonewall's former partner. Kenwick retired only a month after, he might know something. I'll walk you out and call him."

"Thank you." In the lobby, Tim texted Lloyd and Matthias the bad news and the image of the evidence check-out log while he waited. He didn't have to wait long before Flatiron and another man came out.

"Deputy Ballard, this is Assistant Chief Miller." They shook hands.

"This is a very unusual situation. Exactly what is your interest in it? You told Flatiron you were more of a consultant," Miller asked suspiciously.

"Sir, we stumbled across the truth when the suspect attempted to kill a member of our community, then we discovered he also intended to kill my daughter in a similar manner to the other murders. I am very motivated to help catch him. If you don't trust what I am telling you, then you can contact F.B.I. B.A.U. Agent Claire McNaught," Tim was bluntly honest then looked at his phone when it buzzed. He wondered exactly what contacts retired agent Matthias Abernathy had as he held out his phone to Flatiron and Miller. "Our F.B.I contact says the C.B.I. agent who checked out the evidence went missing while hiking two and a half years ago."

"Your serial is bold," Miller announced.

"He's arrogant. He's made mistakes, we just have to find them." Tim tried to sound more certain than he felt. Shaking their hands again, he left to go meet with retired Detective Kenwick.

~~~~

Seven hours later, Tim checked into a hotel and called Lloyd.

"Sheriff McConnell," Lloyd sounded like he was driving.

"It's Tim. We got lucky. Kenwick made copies of all of Stonewall's open cases right after his death. He was certain that Stonewall was murdered too but he didn't know which case it was connected to," Tim said as he flipped through the file folder for a second time.

"Tim, do yourself a favor and don't read that file," Lloyd advised. "Let Matthias and Agent McNaught handle it. They wanted to go meet Cassandra."

"They can't. She can't handle it," Tim protested.

"I know, I explained her issues. We have the file so they won't need to talk to her." Lloyd then asked, "When are you coming home?"

"Tomorrow, unless Golden PD calls me to come back."

"They won't. They are embarrassed by this, just like I am."

"Lloyd, you couldn't have known he wasn't who he said he was," Tim refuted him.

Disagreeing, Lloyd revealed, "He acted like other rookies but there was something off. I knew it when we did the growhouse raids and he got shot with Remington. I let my dislike for Remington color my judgement in favor of Jay. He played me."

"He played everyone. It's killing Audra that she trusted him." Tim had to close the folder. "Look, I need to call Erin and Nick to come home early. Cassandra is going to need someone."

"She has you. Just talk to her."

"She won't take my calls," Tim admitted in despair.

"Don't stop trying... Bye"

"Bye."

~~~~

Tim wondered if it wouldn't have been faster to just drive I-25 down the plains of the Front Range and then across on highway 160, because the long drive back to Pagosa County was slower than usual. The icy passes and curves on the mountainous Route 285 required cautious driving, but his grieving heart needed the rugged scenic beauty as his mind processed what he read instead of sleeping. The pictures were bad, but Detective Stonewall's detailed description of how his cousin kicked in part of a door so Erin could crawl in and reach his terrified, naked sister. Nick had carried her to the ambulance then she spent six months in different hospitals for mental health care. Detective Stonewall had kept diligent victim notes until his death two years after a Cassandra escaped the serial killer. Tim wondered if Kenwick and Flatiron would be able to get the case for Detective Stonewall's death changed from accidental death to murder, but he doubted it because there was no evidence. The afternoon was fading toward the early winter sunset when he pulled over the ridge into the valley holding Pagosa Cliffs. Instead of going to the ranch, he headed to the Sheriff's Offices.

He parked then carried in the file and handed it to Lloyd.

"How was your drive?" Lloyd asked as he glanced through the forensic report.

"285 has the usual slick spots but it was pretty," Tim answered as he poured himself a cup of coffee, stirred in two packets of sugar, then sipped it. "This is really good, what blend is it?"

"Something Milli and Mack gave me for Christmas. The bag is underneath," Lloyd answered but he never looked up.

Tim refilled his cousin's mug then sat down to wait. After several minutes, Lloyd shook his head. "Damn, he knew how to ruin a crime scene."

He paused at the pictures of Shivonne Mallory's body. It looked just like the ones of Melody Neese. Lloyd unlocked the desk drawer and took out the file on the other double murder then placed the pictures side by side. Both women were dressed exactly the same, tied to a round aerialist's hoop and posed.

Tim tried not to look at the pictures as he said, "There are only three left in the box for Carnal Carnival." He scratched at his beard while looking at the ceiling, "I pray everyday that lunatic doesn't decide to start over."

"How long do you think he has been moving his kill kits around?" Lloyd asked.

"Probably since the beginning, he has very specific descriptions of the lingerie. Some of the ones in the kits are no longer made. Audra says he's like a scientist in his need to control every variable of his experiments." Tim set his empty mug down so he wouldn't fling it at a wall. "He has only used two from The SEAL and The Siren... Do... You think he is still looking for Cassandra?"

"She's the one who got away." Lloyd nodded as his lips pressed in a thin line as he flipped another page.

Tim could hear his teeth grinding across the room and shifted his own jaw so he wouldn't start. "How do I help her get past that?"

Inhaling slowly Lloyd looked at his cousin and saw all his own fear of being alone for the rest of his life looking back at him. "Just love her until she comes back to you, that's what I am doing."

Tim stood and looked at Lloyd. "Will you be home tonight?"

"Yes. Matthias is coming in. I'll have him give this to Agent McNaught. Evidently, she is here for the holiday and they are engaged." Lloyd stretched and his back cracked. "I get off at 6PM."

"You've been here since 6AM yesterday." Tim shook his head, then offered, "Do you want to have dinner with me at the Pagosa Grill?"

"I could eat a rib-eye."

Tim stood, offering, "I'll finish matching the deaths we know about to the missing books and lingerie." He handed over the badge he had taken to Golden, but Lloyd refused to take it.

"Keep it. You never know when you might need to be a deputy and I am always looking for part-timers. Pays not that good but it comes with medical insurance."

Tim laughed and tossed the badge on Lloyd's desk. "No thank you. I have seen your job and I don't want anything to do with it after we catch Not-Jay."

~~~~

Jay woke in a dark room the only light was directly over the hospital bed he was in. Matthias was sitting in the only chair.

"Good morning, Mr. Doe. I have someone who would like to meet you. You will answer her questions; you will tell her the truth, or I will return to interrogating you."

"Where will you be?" Jay demanded.

Jay noticed he smelled better. He had been bathed after Matthias knocked him out again, but he was still bruised from the beating he took when he tried to escape the former FBI enforcer. It wasn't as bad of a beating as he had suffered from his uncle, but he wasn't as young as he was then either.

"I have to work. You know how understaffed we are. If you defecate all over yourself again, you will be left in your filth until I return. If you act out or attempt to hurt the good doctor who is only here to help you, I will hurt you again." Matthias' eyes looked empty and cold.

Suddenly, Jay feared the man standing over him more than he ever feared his uncle's intoxicant fueled rages and perversion. He responded with the only thing he could think of. "I want a lawyer."

"The doctor will decide if you get a lawyer. Personally, I do not think you are as delusion as you pretend. I think you know exactly who you are and what you have done." Matthias turned and opened the door.

A tall, middle-aged woman walked in with the confident air of someone who was a professional. "Good morning, Mr. Doe." He knew immediately she was some kind of law enforcement.

"You're not a doctor. You're a profiler."

"I am both, Mr. Doe."

"My name is Jay Lancaster," he insisted, observing them; Matthias's eyes narrowed but the doctor smiled.

"Perhaps you think it is, but it isn't. We have a lot to talk about, you and I." She left and came back a few moments later with a plate of pancakes and link sausage. "It's time for breakfast."

"No, it's not. Matthias always works the evening and overnight for the sheriff's department," Jay refuted her.

"Not anymore. He is the lead investigator on your case so far, they have followed your breadcrumbs back eight years." She rolled a bedside table over and offered him a bite cut haphazardly off the edge of the pancakes. "You should have taken your box of used identities with you when you fled, Mr. Doe. Your mistake got you caught."

Eating, he watched her but kept glancing back at the pancakes, and how sloppily she cut them. He wanted to yell at her to cut them properly but that would tell them something about him, so he said nothing. He accepted bite after misshaped bite.

"You are a very good pretender, Mr. Doe, but you are not the happy-go-lucky deputy of this identity." She smiled after he finished, then announced, "You were wrong, Matthias. He is as obsessive-compulsive as you are, but intelligent enough to remain calm when deliberately provoked. He was trying to hide his nature from me beneath the Jay Lancaster façade."

"I am Jay Lancaster!" Jay insisted angrily. "You people are insane."

The doctor continued smiling, "Now, Mr. Doe, it isn't polite to call names. We all know no one in this room is unaware of the consequences of their actions."

She moved the table to a place by the door then took the tray out with Matthias following. There was no light in the hall to give away the real time of day that Jay could see as the door closed.

Matthias took the tray and carried it downstairs ahead of Claire. "I don't like leaving you alone with him."

"I need to figure out his pathology and you have to go to work. It there anyway we can get a picture of the real Jay Lancaster?" Claire asked. "I need to show him we have broken his story."

"I will get it for you."

She looked down at him then kissed him lightly on the lips. "Have a good night at work. I love you."

"And I, you, my heart."

Going back into the room, Claire returned to her chair. "Let's begin at the beginning, Mr. Doe. What is your real name and who was the real Mayibe Chained?"

~~~~

Cassandra paced. She wanted to call Erin to come home. She wanted to call Tim to come over. She even considered calling Hjalm, but it was the middle of the night in Denmark. She had been having panic attacks almost nonstop since Tim and his cousin the sheriff told her that her stalker had been living in Pagosa County for over a year. She feared if anyone came to her cottage that he would find her and add her to his collection. She packed and unpacked a suitcase so many times she thought she was going mad. Finally, she collapsed to the floor in a huddled mass of fear and self-loathing.

The snowflakes began falling again and the snow collected around the buildings and on her deck. Putting the pistol Nick gave her for wildlife in her cardigan pocket, she wrapped pute her coat over it. Feeling slightly braver, she managed to make her fear let her open the door, but she still ran between the buildings to check on Audie. The bull was laying comfortably on his mattress, but his feeders were low. Struggling not to cry as she worked, Cassie filled them again before she brushed to old bull.

"I might have to leave, Audie. You'll have to live with Erin and Nick... I don't know if I can stay here because a very bad person wants to find me and hurt me."

Cassie sat down by the giant red angus and wept. The bull licked her tears like a dog would have and lowed deeply to comfort her. Suddenly, she got angry. She stormed out into the blizzard and shrieked into the darkness.

"I'm not leaving! You can't make me!" Shouting, she stomped to her cottage. She shook out her coat and left her boots in the sunroom before she locked the door. Going in the cottage, she looked at this morning's cards: reversed Seven of Pentacles, Seven of Swords, reversed King of Swords. She knew he was here. Somewhere. Waiting for her to show herself. She went into her studio room and played the file for a trauma recover book she voiced for her therapist's friend. She listened to the third chapter, then began playing it through the speakers in her house. Stepping out of the door, she started to go get a cup of tea only to be terrified by a pounding on her backdoor. Startled, she saw a shadowy figure inside the sunroom and choked on her scream. she remembered the interior door look-through was made of normal tempered glass so she jerked the gun from her pocket and fired at the intruder. The sound deafened her for a moment as the man went down and window in the door shattered outward.