The Devil's Water: Scenic City Murder Series #1 (12 page)

“She’s hanging in there. It’ll be a long recuperation but she’s tough. She’ll pull through.” Buck Shipley said.

Tasha glanced up at the man and smiled. She figured that he had to believe that in order to cope with it. Fact was, there was no reason to think she’d make it the rest of the week. There wasn’t much more than a snowball’s chance in hell that she would make a full recovery. “Well, she is a survivor. Without her, we may have never cracked this case.” Tasha responded.

“That’s what Dr. Limmel said.” Buck Shipley stated.

“The medical examiner?” Tasha asked.

“Yes. He’s really been good to Sarah and me. He and his assistant. What’s the other guys name?”

“David Campbell.” Tasha answered. 

“Yes…David. Anyway, they both have been here several times. Dr. Limmel said that he and Mr. Campbell had taken a particular interest in this case because they had never actually seen a survivor of a serial killer. I mean, it makes sense. They deal with dead bodies all the time. They both have been so kind and supportive. Sarah always stays in the waiting room or the chapel. She just can’t deal with looking at Carol in this state so, oftentimes, Limmel and Campbell come in with me and all of us pray at her bedside. It’s really comforting and all the doctors say that talking might provide Carol with some cerebral stimulation.”

“Yes. I’ve heard studies about comatose victims who receive verbal stimulation recuperating earlier or better than those who don’t.” Tasha agreed.

She glanced back down at Carol Shipley’s lifeless body. The ventilator was still beeping along as her chest rose and fell. Finally, she turned her attention back to Buck Shipley who stood beside her. “Mr. Shipley, we will catch Gary Berndt. Your daughter did her part and now law enforcement will do theirs.”

CHAPTER 25

Dan Mclutcheon stood at his file cabinet sorting folders. He had been needing to reorganize for some time and now, he just had one big fucking mess. He switched a piece of hard strawberry filled candy from one jaw to the other. It was his ninth piece so far and it was only 10:00 in the morning. He was really hoping something would break in this devil’s water situation. Hank Gamblin’s article had come out a few days before but no one had seen Gary Berndt. At least they weren’t finding any more bodies and, as far as he knew, no one else had been abducted. The phone rang pulling Clutch out of his thoughts. He laid down a folder and strolled over to his desk, picking up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Lieutenant Mclutcheon. How are you this morning? This is Dr. Limmel.”

“I’m just fine doc. How are you?”

“Well, I could be better. I’ve been meaning to call you about this for a day or two but I’ve just been so busy. David and I have been putting in some pretty long hours here at the morgue lately.”

“I know how that goes.” Clutch said, glancing back at his file cabinet.

“I’d been meaning to tell you that Hank Gamblin showed up the other day. I guess it was the day his article came out in the paper. You know, the one that claimed Gary Berndt was impotent.”

“Yes. We seem to have a bit of a leak in the department. Someone went to him with that information.”

“Well, first off, this leak disturbs me. I don’t like reporters snooping around my office. More important than that, I don’t like the fact that someone has jumped to the conclusion that Berndt was impotent. I, as well as your department, have no reason to believe that. That wasn’t mentioned in my conclusive reports on Balzer or Garcia. I think that someone in your department is stirring up distortions to try and discredit me.”

Clutch sat down at his desk with the phone still up to his ear. He hadn’t thought about that angle. He was hoping that Limmel would play along but, from the sound of his voice, Limmel was pretty pissed.

“Dr. Limmel, let me assure you that Chattanooga PD and all the various departments you work with have the utmost respect for you. We have a leak in the department. Unfortunately, the leak decided to spread erroneous information. No one here in the police department believes that Gary Berndt is impotent.”

“Well, I should hope not because I have never even intimated as much. Someone has the wrong information and I will tell you that Mr. Campbell and I are both disturbed by this.”

“Perhaps there is a greater plan at work here, Dr. Limmel.” Answered Clutch.

“Well, what on earth do you mean by that?”

“Maybe it will all work out for the good.” Dan Mclutcheon said, hoping that Limmel was buying his act. Clutch knew that the impotence story was necessary even if others couldn’t see how it would help matters.

“Well, I’ve thought of going to Gamblin myself and telling him my side of things.” Limmel stated.

“Sir, I don’t think that’s necessary.” Said Clutch, feeling some butterflies in his stomach. “We don’t want to go to the press.”

“Well what would you suggest?” Limmel asked.

“I suggest that you stay put and talk directly to the PD. Namely me. Don’t go to Gamblin. It will only make matters worse.”

“OK….for now. I will, however, go to Gamblin if I hear anymore lies coming out of your department, Lieutenant Mclutcheon. Believe me, I am not happy.”

“That’s fair Dr. Limmel. I just have one favor to ask.”

“What’s that?”

“If Hank Gamblin comes back around, give me a call. I’ll handle it.”

Dan Mclutcheon hung up from Dr. Limmel and popped another hard candy in his mouth. He was sure that, when he had his next checkup, the dentist would find multiple cavities. Hell, he couldn’t worry about that now. Limmel was a reasonable and friendly man. He and Mclutcheon had worked on a lot of cases together. Still, Clutch couldn’t shake how angry Limmel had seemed. He was taking it personally and, quite frankly, Clutch could see why. Limmel’s credibility had come into question. Clutch knew how seriously Limmel took his job. He knew how serious the Office of the Medical Examiner was. He hoped, for his sake and everyone else’s, that releasing this false information was for the good. So far, he certainly couldn’t see that he’d done the right thing. He returned to his office files just as the phone rang again.

He walked across his office floor once more and answered it on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Yo.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Yo. Is this lieutenant Mclutcheon?”

“Yes. Who is this?”

“This is Rico Savoy. I tried to call detective Varnell from vice but he ain’t around so I thought I’d try you.”

“Yes, Mr. Savoy. What do you need?”

“Well, last night one of my girls said she saw a dark blue Ford car driving around the boulevard several times. She thought the guy looked suspicious. He didn’t pick up anybody, knowmsayin? He was just trollin’.”

“You think he’s our guy?” Clutch asked.

“I don’t know. Know m sayin? I just thought ya’ll should be aware that he might be back.”

“Was there anyone in the car with him? Flo, maybe?”

“I don’t think so. My girl said he was alone. I just think ya’ll need to get somebody down here for a few days.”

“I think so, too. I’ll have detective Wilder go down there for a few nights. If you see anything that looks suspicious, give me another call. Will you do that, Mr. Savoy?”

“Yeah. It just ain’t safe around here no more. It ain’t safe for him either ‘cause if I see him, I’m gonna pop a cap in his ass.”

“Please let the police handle this, Mr. Savoy. We’ll catch him and get Flo back to you safe and sound. I promise.”

Clutch signed off and got back to his file work. He regretted promising Rico Savoy something that he couldn’t be sure about. Hell, Flo Jenson might be lying dead somewhere at that very moment. Still, he didn’t like the thought of one of Chattanooga’s most notorious pimps out popping caps in people’s asses. The last thing his town needed was a shootout on Rossville Boulevard.

Five minutes later, Clutch was deep in his file cabinet pulling out old files when the phone rang again. “Dammit!” he cursed. He walked to the phone, once more, and picked up the receiver. “Hello.”

“Hey, are you in a mood?” Tasha Yoder asked him.

“Sorta. The phone has been ringing off the hook and I’m trying to get some work done.”

“Sorry. I was just calling to let you in on my visit to the hospital. I can call back later.”

“No, there’s no need.” Clutch said, moving around to his desk chair and taking a seat. “How did it go?”

“Well, I talked mostly with her father. He gave me a little background on the family. It seems Carol moved up here from Alabama as a sort of homage to her dead grandmother.”

“Yeah?”

“Anyway, I think her folks have always been, to some degree, religious. After this happened to Carol, however, I think her mother has become somewhat of a nutcase. She’s very invested in the Bible right now. She’s reading a whole lot of Job.”

“Job was an upright God fearing man who had to endure much sorrow. Okay. I follow that. It makes sense that she’s gone a little bat shit for the book of Job.” Clutch reasoned.

“Yeah, I guess. So, Mr. Shipley told me that he was sure Carol didn’t know Gary.”

“How is he so sure?”

“Well, he says that Carol had never once mentioned Gary Berndt to him. Apparently, Carol and her father were pretty close.”

“Okay. So that leaves us where? Right back at square one.” Clutch answered his own question. “Why did Gary Berndt pick Carol or Monica? Or for that matter Macy?”

“I don’t know the answer to that.” Tasha responded. Sometimes, serial killers pick targets for reasons of convenience. Maybe he started scoping out Sun Apartments. Then, he began stalking those three women and found that they lived alone. It could’ve been just as simple as that.”

“I suppose. Now it looks as if Berndt may be back.” Mclutcheon stated.

“What do you mean?”

Clutch told Tasha about his phone call with Rico Savoy.

Tasha took it all in and let out an audible sigh. “Well, I wouldn’t think he’d be bold enough to go right back to Rossville Boulevard again. He has to know that folks are watching for him.”

“Yeah, but you said yourself that he’s arrogant and thinks he’s so much brighter than the rest of us. Maybe it’ll bring him down. Remember Ted Bundy left teeth marks in that little girl’s buttocks. He never dreamed they would match his dental records to the bite marks. They caught the SOB and now we don’t have him to worry with anymore, right?”

“Maybe.” Tasha answered. “Thing is, I also know when you make people aware of a serial killer, they see him on every street corner. They hear him coming into their houses at night. Fear makes people a little crazy sometimes.”

“Yeah, the only crazy one is the bastard we’re trying to catch.” Clutch said.

“No, Clutch. This guy is a sociopath. There’s a huge difference in that and crazy. Unfortunately, news outlets make that mistake all the time. Hollywood makes horror movies about serial killers with schizophrenia. Fact of the matter is, most folks with mental disorders aren’t violent at all. They live in lands of delusion and hallucination but most, when they take their medicine, are perfectly lovely people. It’s sad, really. That’s why the National Alliance of the Mentally Ill tries so hard to advocate for those people.”

“Yeah, but it makes me feel better to call this asshole a fucking nutcase.” Clutch laughed. “I get your point, though.”

“Good. Just don’t call him that around me.” Tasha answered.

“Understood.”

“Well, I’m gonna keep up with Mr. Shipley. I might run over and see Carol tomorrow or the next day. Maybe a miracle will occur and she’ll wake up. You never know.” Tasha said.

“Hey, anything you hear…keep me posted.”

“Will do.”

CHAPTER 26

The next morning, Tasha Yoder was standing in front of her bathroom mirror applying makeup. She’d already brushed her teeth but the bitter taste on the back of her palate wouldn’t go away. She knew that the reason for this was because of the half bottle of Patron tequila she’d knocked back the night before. Tasha had switched to the expensive stuff in hopes that it would make her drink less. So far, it wasn’t working very well. Tasha picked up the Listerine bottle, unscrewed the top and took a big gulp. She felt her gums burn and tingle as the mouthwash did its job. She spat the mouthwash into the sink and grabbed the hairbrush, running it through her bleached blonde hair. Suddenly, she thought of Betty Ford. Betty had been a real drunk. Instead of spitting the Listerine in the sink, Betty would’ve probably swallowed it. Tasha smiled at herself in the mirror. She knew she wasn’t that bad. She knew she would
never
be that bad. For one thing, she held a job. How many real drunks held jobs? Tasha felt that the number wouldn’t be very high. Tasha chose not to focus on the fact that she only worked part time and went in to her class hung over pretty often. She also chose not to think about the fact that she lost a very good job to alcohol. Instead, she felt that her dismissal from the FBI had just been a very low point in her life and anybody could have one of those. Once she was through brushing her hair, she tied it back in a rubber band and grabbed her car keys off the bathroom vanity. She had to be in class in a couple hours but she would be able to pay a visit to Carol Shipley beforehand.

Almost a half hour had passed when Tasha pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. She got out of her car and locked up, glancing toward the sky and the gathering storm clouds. A gust of cold wind hit her as she made her way to the hospital lobby. She was certainly glad that she’d chosen warm clothes and a ponytail when she was getting ready earlier. As she entered the hospital, she noticed the same woman sitting behind the desk that she’d seen a few days before. The woman glanced up from her crossword puzzle and Tasha noted the same sour frown on her face. There was no “May I help you?”. There wasn’t even a pleasant facial expression of greeting. Tasha moved past her and to the gray steel doors of the elevator. Once she reached the third floor, the doors opened and she walked down the hallway toward the ICU waiting room. Peering through the glass door, she saw a man she recognized. As the man turned toward the door, he saw Tasha and smiled. Once again, Tasha was floored by how handsome David Campbell was. She opened the door and walked in.