Killer Scents

beautiful wife’s shoulder. His other arm encircled a young man of about twenty. He didn’t recall seeing him in any of the pictures scattered throughout the house.

“Who is this?”

“That is Jeffery, their son.”

He dropped his spoon in the empty bowl. “I didn’t know they had a kid. I don’t think we’ve ever heard the professor talk about him.”

“It’s another sad story, I’m afraid.” Mable took the tissue out from her shirt cuff. “I think this is the last photo of them together.”

“Why is it a sad story?”

“Jeffery hasn’t set foot in this house since his mother died.” She dabbed at the corners of her eyes. “He took it very hard.”

“Where did he go?”

“Jeffery still works here, mostly in the fields, but refuses to set foot in this house. The memories are too painful for him, and the professor rejects any offer to clean or dispose of anything Pauline left behind.” She shrugged. “Sometimes he stays in the bunkhouse after a long day in the fields, but his place is about a mile or so down the road, in the middle of the property with fields on both sides of him. I go there once a week and clean up a little. I often leave him a pot of soup like this. He’s a very kind and gentle man.”

“I didn’t see him the day we came and talked to the workers.” Randy didn’t talk to the son. He would have remembered since the guy would be so different from the rest.

“Is Jeffery working here today?”

“I saw him leaving very early this morning. I think he took a drive into the city.”

He stood. “Thank you so much for the soup. I think it’s the best I’ve ever had.” He leaned across the island and kissed her rosy cheek. “I’ll leave you alone now to get on with your day.”

He blew out a long breath and went in search of the chief.

Why does it feel like everyone is keeping Jeffery a secret? Not even Jacob mentioned him.

Chapter Twenty

“How did we miss something like this?” Randy slid a photo across the table.

Becca’s jaw dropped. “That’s him! I’m not going crazy. That’s the guy I told you I saw standing at the back of the greenhouse. Who is he?”

“Jeffery Davies.”

“How can that be? Why didn’t the professor or anyone else mention him?”

“Apparently he hasn’t set foot in the house since shortly after his mother died.” Randy teetered on the back legs of his chair. “The guy even lives on the property about a mile or so down the road.”

“Are you saying you think he’s our killer?”

He shrugged. “Well, I definitely think we need to pay him a visit.”

“How do you want to handle this?” She couldn’t sit still.

“Why don’t we just go out there and take a look around?” He gathered all of his papers and stuffed them in a file.

“Let’s take the bikes,” she suggested. The rain stopped long ago, and the sun had dried the roads.

“Why not? It’s not like we have enough on the guy to arrest him or issue a warrant.”

“I’m going home to clean up a bit. Do you want to meet here?”

“I’ll drop you off and go get my bike.” Randy picked up the file and put a hand on the small of her back. “I think a ride is just what the doctor ordered.”

She smiled. “Copy that. I’ll meet you back at the shop.”

Randy glanced at his watch. Come on Becca. He keyed in her number for the third time only to get a recorded message once again. She wouldn’t take off on her own, would she? Almost half an hour had passed since he’d dropped her off. Something isn’t right.

He hopped on his bike and rode across town to her place, breathing a sigh of relief to find her ride in the driveway. His respite was short-lived once he noticed her back door slightly ajar.

“Becca?”  He drew his gun and cautiously stepped inside. It looked like the only light on was in the kitchen. The door connected with something behind it. He looked down to find her helmet on the floor.

“Shit!” He ran out of the house and kicked in the garage door only to find it empty. He ran one hand through his hair while he keyed a number in his cell with the other.

The person you are trying to reach is not available....

“Dammit, Becca.” He entered the chief’s number.

“Hey, Randy, what’s up?”

“I think the bastard has her.” He walked around her bike, praying he was wrong.

“Calm down, who has who?”

“Becca, The Florist has her. I know it!”

He told the chief about Jeffery and their plan to ride out to his place and get a closer look around.

“I’m sending a team over there right now.”

“I’m going out there. That fucker better not hurt her.”

“Whoa now, Randy. You need to calm down. Nobody is going anywhere by themselves.”

“Don’t ask me to sit around and wait. I can’t do that.”

“When the team gets there, I want you back here and we’ll round up a few officers to look for her. I don’t know if the professor’s son is our guy or not, but my every instinct screams the answer is on that farm.”

While waiting for the team, Randy battled a plethora of emotions: anger, fear, frustration. What was I thinking dropping her off alone? I should have at least checked out the house. Now she’s gone.... Flashes of the victims went off in his mind like firecrackers, their mouths sewn shut, eyes bulging.

Becca, I’m so sorry. Hang in there, girl. I’ll find you. If that bastard harms one hair on your head, he’ll wish he’d never been born.

Giddy with excitement, he doubled over in a fit of giggles. To think only a few feet away Ms. Hoity-toity Detective sat unconscious and he had her all to himself. Luckily for him the element of surprise and strength of chloroform worked in his favor. She didn’t even see him coming when she was on her way out of the house.

Several minutes passed before he was able to get back to painstakingly peeling the thin layers of dark skin from his face.  Even if someone saw him leave with her over his shoulder, they’d describe a black man.

Once satisfied no trace of his disguise remained, he patted his face dry and opened the drawer in front of him. He smiled and gently fingered the syringe. He had all the props in place but no specific plan in mind. One thing he did know for certain—he’d savor every moment of their time together. There was no need to rush. Randy had no idea what happened to his precious partner.

Giddiness rose up in him once again, and he tilted his head back and laughed.

His blood-curdling laughter chilled Becca to the very core. It wasn’t easy to keep her eyes closed, but the longer he thought her unconscious, the better. The possibilities of his intentions grew fear within her that spread like wildfire.

Becca didn’t hear him moving around anymore, but the sound of his breathing kept her silent. Do I dare look? If he thinks I’m still out of it, am I relatively safe?

She remembered reaching for her helmet and stepping out of the house. There’d been a smell, right? He’d pressed a cloth over her mouth and nose. The chloroform still lingered at the back of her throat.

A chair scraped against something really hard, maybe concrete. His steps grew closer until his warm breath caressed her face. She didn’t flinch, keeping her breaths even and steady.

“It’s time for you to wake up, my dear Becca. I have so many things planned for your time together.”