“So there had to be a lot of resentment toward Darlene,” Harry suggested.
“A ton of it,” Vicky said. “The boy’s mother flat out said she was glad Darlene was dead-that she’d like to thank whoever killed her.”
“They have alibis for the night of the murder?” Harry asked.
“Just each other,” Vicky said. “They all claim they were home that night, that they watched a little television, then went to bed around eleven. But even if that’s true, it doesn’t rule out that another member of their family, a neighbor or friend, or somebody from their church, won’t qualify as a suspect. There’s a lot more checking to do there.”
“I agree,” Harry said. “It’s a promising lead. Let’s talk about it some more later.” Harry now turned to the uniforms, taking them one at a time, starting with those who were checking out the owners of cars seen parked in Darlene’s driveway. The one person who had visited most often was her probation officer. He had visited her like clockwork every Thursday night. Her other visitors all seemed to have alibis, some stronger than others, but they still had to be checked out. Harry told the deputies to keep at it until they had all the alibis nailed down one way or the other.
The last man he called on was Deputy Jim Morgan, who had been asked to recanvass Darlene’s neighbors.
“I just came up with one new thing, but I think it could be important,” Morgan began. “The elderly neighbor, the one who kept track of the cars in her driveway, Joshua Brown, well, it seems he withheld two plate numbers when he gave you the list he compiled.”
Harry cocked his head to one side, surprised by the information. He couldn’t understand why the old man would do that and he was a little embarrassed that he hadn’t pressed him enough to draw that information out during his initial interview. “Tell me about it,” he said.
“Well, it was all his doing.” Morgan was obviously uncomfortable that he had put Harry on the spot. “He just threw it out while I was talking to him-that he was surprised we didn’t already have all the plate numbers since we were watching her so closely. When I asked him what he meant, he told me he had seen two unmarked cars in front of her house and figured we were watching her pretty close.”
“How did he know they were unmarked police cars?”
“He said he saw the radios through the windows. He had already written down the license numbers, but he didn’t include the cars on the list after he saw the police radios.”
“But he kept the numbers,” Harry said.
“Sure did. All the numbers were in a small notebook he carried when he took his dog out for walks. Then he transferred the numbers to the list he gave you. These two numbers were still in his notebook with lines drawn through them.”
Harry couldn’t help but smile. A notebook, transferring plate numbers to another list. The old coot had embarrassed him, but thank God he had so much time on his hands. “So did you run those new plates?”
“Yes, I did. And here’s the kicker. Both cars are registered to us, to the Pinellas County Sheriff’s Department. And according to the motor pool there’s no record of who took either of those cars out.” Morgan paused. “And there should be.”
“Sounds like we have some more work to do,” Harry said, then turned to Vicky. “I’d like you to work with Jim on this. I’d also like one of you to run a computer check on past murders-local and federal. See if you can come up with anytime where the victim’s face was covered by a mask or where words were carved in the flesh. And don’t limit the check to this county or even to Florida.”
Vicky’s eyebrows rose. “You thinking serial killer here?”
“No. But I don’t want to overlook the possibility either, and then get second guessed about why we never checked. While you’re doing that I’ll pick up where you left off with the kid and his family. Everybody else just keep working on what you’ve got.” He looked back at Morgan. “Helluva nice job.”
Morgan tried to suppress a grin. Harry took it in and decided that the young deputy, like most cops, had an oversized ego. And he likes it fed with as much praise as he can get.
Harry was back at his desk jotting the information Vicky had gathered into his notebook, while she dictated it from hers.
“Why do you want me working with Morgan?” she asked when they had finished.
“This is new for him,” Harry said. “I just want to make sure he follows through on it. I have no reason to believe he won’t, but then I don’t know how he feels about investigating other cops, and I just want to make sure I’ve got somebody more experienced looking over his shoulder.” He gave Vicky a long look. “This is something that could come back and bite us if it’s not handled right. Even if it doesn’t prove to be part of the case, we’ve got to be able to show we investigated it thoroughly. I also want you to check out Darlene’s probation officer. Find out why he spent so much time at her town house and what the hell she was doing without her ankle monitor-”
The phone on Harry’s desk rang, interrupting him.
“Doyle,” he said as he answered it.
“Harry, it’s Walter Lee Hollins, over at the prison.”
Harry’s stomach tightened and seemed to rise toward his throat. It had to be news about his mother, and news about her was never good. “Hey, Walter Lee, something going on?”
“Yeah, I’m afraid there is. Your mama just got notified that she’s been put up for a parole hearing. I wanted to make sure you heard about it, in case those assholes on the parole board or in the state’s attorney’s office forget to tell you. It’s happened before.”
“When will it be?” Harry’s voice had gone dead cold and most of the color had left his face. He could feel Vicky staring at him, but refused to look at her.
“They ain’t set a date yet, far as I know. But it could be as soon as next week. If she don’t make the list for that parole hearing, it’ll probably be the next one. I’m not sure how close they’re scheduling them right now. There’s a lot of pressure from Tallahassee to parole as many as we can to ease up on overcrowding. I never thought it would affect your mama though. Not with what she’s in here for.”
“No, I didn’t either. Thanks for the information.”
“No problem, Harry. You take care, hear?”
When Harry ended the call Vicky was still staring at him. “Bad news?” she asked.
“Just some personal stuff.”
CHAPTER SIX
Harry sat on the lanai, a box of letters before him, a few already yellowing with age. The letters had been written by his mother, one each year, stretching back to when he was eleven years old. Each was written and carefully mailed so it would arrive on a specific day-the anniversary of the day she had killed her two small sons. Now, twenty years later, it was odd to think that he had died on that day. But it was a simple fact. He had not been breathing and had lacked a heartbeat when the two Tampa cops broke into the garage and started CPR on the two small boys they found there. But it only worked for one… only one had come back.