A hush came over the crowd when Titus tapped the microphone. It was Davy’s. He used to be a DJ before he joined the sheriff’s office. Titus watched as a sense of expectation flowed over the crowd and made its way into every crack and crevice like shellac. Folks had heard things, been told things, made things up, and now they were about to get it from the horse’s mouth, so to speak. Titus could feel the weight of those expectations on his broad shoulders. The pressure of those hundreds and hundreds of eyes bearing down on him nearly made him drop his head, but he took a deep breath and looked straight ahead. Submission was not an option. He could not afford to look defeated for even a fraction of a millisecond. Staring down a crowd was like dealing with a feral dog. You showed fear, and you’d find yourself without a throat.
“I’d like to thank everyone for coming today.”
The hunt was on.
TEN
Titus took off his hat and put it on his desk. He sat down and removed his sunglasses and rubbed his hands across his face. The crowd outside was starting to disperse, but he could still hear their voices through the walls like a quiet rumble of thunder.
Carla came into the office. “Do you think we’re going to catch him?” Carla asked.
Titus smoothed down his tie. “We have to,” he said.
The landline rang. “Someone asking for you on line one,” Cam yelled.
“Do me a favor. Run back out to the dig site and see how the state boys are getting on. Let them know you’re there as my rep. They say they gonna keep us in the loop, but sometimes they tighten their circle and leave us out,” Titus said.
“Got it.” Carla turned and headed out the door.
Titus picked up the landline. “Sheriff Crown. How can I help you?”
“Damn, you sound all official like you a real officer of the law. They give you your own set of handcuffs?” A throaty laugh came across the line. Titus felt the bottom drop out of his belly for a moment.
“Kellie. Why are you calling here?” Titus asked.
“Wow, nice to hear from you too,” Kellie said.
Titus cleared his throat. His face felt hot as a griddle. “I mean, how you doing? I can’t say I expected to hear from you,” Titus stammered.
“Relax, Virginia. I’m not stalking you. This is strictly a professional call,” Kellie said.
“Professional? So, you’re calling in your capacity as a reporter for the Fort Wayne Journal Gazette?” Titus said.
“Not exactly. And I’m over in Indianapolis now. Working at The Times. But a little birdie told me there’s something going on in your hometown that might help with my new side project,” Kellie said.
Titus didn’t respond.
Kellie chuckled. “You haven’t heard about my podcast, have you?” she asked.
“I don’t … I don’t have a lot of free time,” Titus said.
Another throaty laugh.
“I know you have Spotify on your phone. I’ll send you a link. You can listen to it while you ride to and from the cross burnings,” Kellie said. Another laugh.
Once again Titus didn’t respond.
“I guess that was in bad taste,” Kellie said.
“Not really, more like a pot-and-kettle scenario. Indiana isn’t exactly progressive central,” Titus said.
“Point taken. But, seriously, give me your cell and I’ll text you a link.”
“What exactly do you think is going on down here?” Titus asked.
“My podcast is about true crime. I started it when I got laid off from The Journal Gazette. Originally we were just chronicling crimes against sex workers in the tricity area but we’ve been expanding our content. A friend of mine at a news station in Richmond texted me that you just found some murdered kids in a field. I was wondering if the man I shared a bed with for two years might be inclined to give me an interview when we get to town?” Kellie asked.
Titus exhaled like he’d been punched in the chest. “Why are you coming to town?”
“You know, for an FBI agent you’re not great at listening. I have a true crime podcast. You seem to have discovered a serial killer. I’ve got some vacation to burn at The Times, so I thought I’d come to town to do an episode about said serial killer. And I was hoping you’d talk to me about it,” Kellie said. “Look, I was kidding about the whole man-I-was-sleeping-with-for-two-years thing. Was just trying to make you laugh. You never laughed enough.”
“The investigation just started. I’m already going to have reporters and concerned citizens lining up to get in our way. No offense, but we don’t need anyone else getting in our way right now,” Titus said.
“Would you say that if I wasn’t your ex?”
“I’d say that if you were Anderson Cooper,” Titus said.
Kellie chuckled. “Well, if he was your ex, it would have made our time together interesting. Look, Titus, we’re coming to town. I just wanted to see if you wanted a chance to get your message out. Shake some folks up. Maybe get a few leads. You don’t have to talk to me, but you can’t stop me from doing my job.”
“Nobody can stop you from doing something you’ve set your mind to. I’m just telling you you’re wasting your time. We literally are just starting to sort this thing out. There’s nothing anyone can tell you because we don’t know anything. All you going to do is burn up some gas driving down here.”
“You really don’t want to see me, do you?” Kellie said. The laughter in her throat was gone. It had been replaced with a quietness that softened her voice. The phone hummed as neither of them spoke. Memories, charged like electrons, ran along the phone line like nerve impulses.
* * *
He’d met Kellie Stoner during an investigation into the deaths of several sex workers in the Fort Wayne area. Kellie was one of two crime reporters for the Fort Wayne Journal Gazette. She also volunteered at a community center that focused on sex workers and the homeless. She was a five-foot-three ball of energy and sarcasm that had kept him on his toes during their entire interview. Long dark hair and matching eyelashes. Smooth, darkly tanned skin that he’d find out later was the product of her Filipino and Italian heritage. Light brown eyes like drops of honey that changed to amber when she was angry. Like she’d been that day.
“I’m sorry, Agent Crown, but it doesn’t seem like the FBI cares about murdered sex workers. This is the sixth body found this year. What progress have you made? And why did it take you so long to get involved? I mean, no offense, but folks around here have been begging the police to do something for these missing women,” she’d said as they’d sat in the office he’d borrowed from the local chief of police.
“Ms. Stoner, I assure you the Bureau is doing all we can. I can promise you I’m doing all I can. I don’t believe in leaving anyone behind. My word is my bond,” Titus had said.
“Wow, next thing you’re gonna tell me Santa Claus is real,” she’d said under her breath.
“Excuse me?” Titus had said.
“I’m sorry. But you can’t blame me for being skeptical. Folks in this part of town don’t usually see the cops until it’s a rich white girl that’s late for a bridal shower,” Kellie had said.
“I don’t work my cases based on the social standing of the victims, Ms. Stoner. Either we all matter or no one matters. Everyone deserves to have someone speak for them,” Titus had said.
“You mean that, don’t you?” Kellie had asked.
“I do. My mama raised me right. And I can tell how much you care. Not just about the victims but the people here. That kind of passion is all too rare,” Titus had said. “And I think Santa Claus usually uses his Kris Kringle alias this time of year,” he had added.
And she had laughed. That full, throaty laugh that would soon become music to his ears.
Titus and his team eventually found the man who killed the eight sex workers. Titus felt the team had avenged them as best they could. They had spoken for them.
Then he and Kellie had begun to dance to a song that had lived in that strange undiscovered country that existed between love and lust.
Until the DeCrain raid, and the song had ended abruptly.
* * *
“It’s not like that, and you know it. I had to come home. You had to stay in Indiana. A long-distance thing wasn’t going to work. I thought we ended things as well as you can end things,” Titus said.
“Is that what you thought?” Kellie said.
Titus gripped the phone. “I guess I was wrong.”
“No, you’re right. But that doesn’t make it any better. But we’ve both moved on. I’m seeing someone and I’m sure you are too. But I’d still like to send you a link to my show. If that’s okay,” Kellie said.