“And this was personal.”
“Personal enough that he wanted Mr. Tanner to feel fear. Why else string him up and hang him from the ceiling?”
“But the female victim wasn’t strung up,” Ganza reminded her.
“No. And we don’t think she was sexually assaulted. Of course we won’t know for sure until Wenhoff’s autopsy.”
“There was something else I thought was very strange,” Ganza said and headed for the refrigerator again.
This time he did pull out the plate with the pie. He put on latex gloves before he opened the bag and slid the gooey mess out onto the counter. Maggie was relieved to find that without the flies it no longer turned her stomach.
“There’s something underneath.” He lifted a corner of the piecrust.
It looked like a slip of paper.
“Is it a note?” she asked.
“I noticed it earlier but didn’t want to take it apart until you were here.”
He grabbed some forceps. Then he lifted the crust and tugged the object out. It looked like a soggy receipt only it was a bit thicker than paper. The print was smeared and there was a signature at the bottom. Ganza held it up with the forceps, gripping it carefully by the corner.
Maggie stared at it, trying to make out the type. Then finally she said, “It looks like a traffic ticket.”
Chapter 17
He watched Loner all night long without the asshole even realizing he was being watched. He enjoyed every twitch the man made as he paced. He could even see the slight throb at his temple as he tried to sit still.
This was where the amateurs were separated from the professionals. And it gave Stucky great to pleasure to witness the meltdown. Guys like Loner had all the balls when it came to the hunt and the kill. The warm blood on their hands made them feel powerful and godlike. Nothing else could compare. Not sex, not money. Nothing else was as powerful as taking the life of another human – to feel that life pour out and watch the light leave their eyes.
Loner liked that feeling of power. He’d seen it in the bastard’s eyes when he stopped Stucky and tried to humiliate him. Wanting to feel powerful – that was something they had in common. But that’s where it stopped.
Loner was an amateur. Oh, he’d probably killed before. This hadn’t been his first time. Stucky suspected Loner had gotten away with much more. But this was the first time he’d screwed up in a major way. And amateurs had no idea what to do when they screwed up.
Had the asshole not pissed Stucky off, had he not humiliated and derided him, maybe Stucky would have taken him under his wing. Taught him a thing or two. Even when he first started trailing Loner he suspected the guy was not just a hothead but rather a volcano that erupted periodically.
In the beginning he was curious what the couple in the trailer had done to ignite Loner. But from personal experience he knew there didn’t need to be much of a reason. From the way he hogtied and hung up the male victim in the guy’s own living room, Stucky figured the guy had disrespected Loner in some way. That would have been enough justification in Loner’s mind.
Stucky had the heard the whispers in the hospital hallways. He had gotten close enough to hear the conversations. No one seemed to notice a janitor with a mop. He was practically invisible. He’d even been inside the little girl’s room to empty the trashcans. In and out, just like that. No questions. Hardly a nod.
So now he knew that Loner had shot a third victim. A man who tried to run away – the little girl’s father. Another major screw up. There were all kinds of ballistic tests they could do on that bullet once they pulled it out. And poor Loner – he couldn’t just throw away that gun. How would he explain to his superiors that he’d lost his service revolver?
What a wonderful mess Loner had gotten himself into. For Stucky it was pure pleasure to watch from the sidelines. But he was becoming bored. He’d had enough and was ready to resume his trip to Florida. There was just one thing he needed to take care of first.
Chapter 18
Cunningham wasn’t answering his phone. Neither was Dr. Patterson.
Maggie was frustrated. Hospital rules. They probably had to have their cell phones shut off. Still, she left another round of messages then she took the ramp to get on the Interstate.
She hoped she was wrong. She hoped it was just a coincidence. Except she didn’t believe in coincidences. And neither did Cunningham. It was one of the first things he had taught her.
Ganza had put the soggy ticket under a microscope. The magnification couldn’t fix the smears but they were able to decode what was left of the print.
The speeding ticket had been issued to Louis Tanner two weeks ago. In the small area available for notes the law enforcement officer had taken time to write: Argumentative.