murders on either occasion. She’s interacted with my father many more times, and much more positively. He likes her, but remains reserved. While she seems to earnestly and passionately care about her friends and has remained a staunch advocate on their behalf…”
“She remains a prime suspect,” D.D. filled in.
“Yep.”
“She got an alibi for the Knowles murder?”
“Her aunt claims she was in New Hampshire the evening of the twenty-first. By midday on the twenty-second, when Charlene got the news of Jackie’s death from the local police, she flew straight down from Portland, Maine. We have her name on the ticket and can corroborate the Delta flight. All in all, a decent alibi.”
“There’s a but in your voice,” D.D. said.
Kimberly sighed. “Only lead we’ve ever had in the case-Jackie’s neighbor claims to have seen Jackie return home after nine P.M. on the twenty-first, and she wasn’t alone. She’d brought home a friend: a female with long brown hair and a petite frame.”
“Like Charlene Grant,” D.D. mused thoughtfully.
“Who was a thousand miles away with her aunt. Unfortunately, the neighbor only saw the woman from behind, so not the best ID, but all we got.”
“Crime scene?” D.D. prodded.
“Clean. Conspicuously clean. Switch-plates-wiped-off, floorboards-mopped, every-sofa-pillow-in-place kind of clean. Kitchen, entranceway, family room-all spotless. The killer took his or her time, felt comfortable in the home. Detail-oriented, thorough, smart.”
“Strong,” D.D. added. “Manual strangulation?”
“COD, manual asphyxiation, yes. So, strong hands. But I’m less convinced on this subject than the Rhode Island investigators. They took the manual strangulation as proof the perpetrator must be male. Maybe it’s living in the South, but I’ve watched enough little old ladies wring the heads off chickens to be more open-minded. Plenty of women have decent upper body strength. Especially if they grabbed another female from behind, I think it could be done.”
“So maybe the ‘friend’ Jackie brought home that night. You check with the local bars?”
“Sure, credit card activity told us where Jackie had spent the evening. Unfortunately, it was a new bar opening downtown. When we flashed Jackie’s picture, couple of servers remembered seeing her that night, but no one was paying much attention. Apparently, the debut was very successful and the place was cranking.”
“Her e-mail messages, cell phone log?” D.D. asked.
“No recent contact from a new friend, or calendar notation to meet so-and-so at such-and-such. I’m guessing Jackie hadn’t planned on meeting a friend that night. I think the other woman found her.”
“Found her, or stalked her?”
“Good question.”
“And the woman talked Jackie into taking her home.”
“Conjecture, but a good one.”
“Because Jackie might be suspicious of a man, given what happened to her friend, Randi. But she wouldn’t think much of a strange female.”
“According to friends and family, Jackie thought Randi’s ex-husband killed her. So it’s not clear Jackie was on guard one way or the other. Then again, it was the one-year anniversary of her best friend’s murder. Jackie’s at a downtown bar, probably feeling a little lonely, a little blue…”
“The right approach,
“A little conversation, a couple drinks,” Kimberly filled in.
“Jackie was an easy target. Assuming our killer is a female and really good at social engineering.”
“To judge by both scenes, we’re looking for someone with advanced people skills. Which, let’s face it, you can’t say about all killers.”
D.D. nodded, mulled it over. This case that was not even a case was growing on her, sinking in. A puzzle within a puzzle.
“So now it’s basically two days until the twenty-first,” D.D. provided. “Location has moved to Boston, where we have the final member of the trio, Charlene Rosalind Carter Grant. She’s definitely on guard. Carrying a. 22, running, training, boning up on forensics and true crime, not to mention outreaching to her local homicide detective. I don’t see her bringing home any ‘new’ friends, male or female, on the twenty-first.”
“Probably not,” Kimberly agreed.
“So our killer would have to come up with another ruse,” D.D. murmured, still thinking.
“What does Charlene want most?” Kimberly asked.
“What d’you mean?”
“If you’re a killer, if you want to get someone’s attention who has every reason to be on guard, you have to offer something so good, so personal, so compelling, that even paranoid Charlene would be willing to throw caution to the wind, just to learn more.”
“She wants to know who killed her friends,” D.D. said.
“Then maybe the killer has it even easier this time around. She doesn’t have to ‘pretend’ to be anything at all. She can just be herself. Because
“Who’d you lose?” D.D. asked softly.
“My mother and sister.”
“And if the murderer called you up tomorrow?”
“He’d have to be dialing from one eight hundred rent a psychic,” Kimberly said flatly.
“And now your seven-year-old can plug three to center mass.”
“Yep.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Charlene’s preparations are physical,” Kimberly stated curtly. “Her killer’s MO, however, is psychological. Intimate. Up close. Personal. What good is running a six-minute mile going to do her, when she’s the one willingly opening the door? Charlene doesn’t need to be tough. She needs to think tough. That’ll get her through the twenty- first.”
“I want to stir the pot,” D.D. announced.
“How so?”
“Facebook, social media. I’m working with another detective who’s something of an expert. We’re thinking of putting together a fake Facebook page, with posts commemorating the deaths of both Randi and Jackie. See who responds.”
Kimberly seemed to consider the matter. “What about leaking info?”
“You mean crime scene details?”
“I mean fake crime scene details, maybe a criminology report. Something unflattering. No, I take that back. Something…messy. Our killer likes to be in control, yes? Neat, tidy, thorough. What if you reveal something about the Knowles scene the killer missed. Something that’s now a possible lead in the investigation. Get the killer feeling defensive, second-guessing him- or herself.”
“Get inside his or her head,” D.D. murmured.
“Turnabout is fair play.”
“Got an idea for a detail?”
Kimberly hesitated. “I’d ask my father. He knows both scenes, he was a profiler. Messing with criminal minds. Hell, he’ll love this. Give him a call.”
“Thank you.”
“Not a problem. Keep me posted. Especially on the twenty-first.”
“Will do. Good luck with your growing girls.”
“Good luck with your baby boy.”
Both women sighed, hung up their phones.
