“Maybe that part wasn’t planned.”
“Hmm,” Jimmy hummed. Zach heard pages rustling in the background. “That doesn’t quite work because when Landish was found, it appeared he’d been dead for several hours at least. Although it was apparently hot in his apartment, which made pinpointing a time of death more difficult.”
What the hell? Zach thought for a minute. “Were rattraps taken into evidence?”
There was a short pause before Jimmy said, “No. No traps.”
So he’d taken the rattraps Josie had mentioned? In essence, he’d wiped down and cleaned the place up. Taken anything that wasn’t easily cleaned of fingerprints perhaps? But how was that possible if he was already dead? And even if the time of death was inaccurate, he’d have to have snuck into that room the moment Josie had escaped, and then run home and shot himself. Police had been all over both the warehouse room and Landish’s apartment within the hour.
“I’m still reading through all the forensics,” Jimmy went on as Zach’s mind roamed. “But listen, apparently there’s a sister who insists her brother didn’t commit this crime, that it just wasn’t in his nature.”
“I saw that, but, man, how many people do we arrest whose family members insist they didn’t do it, because it just wasn’t in their nature?”
“A hell of a lot.”
“The guy committed suicide.”
“A murder can be made to look like suicide.” Jimmy paused. “Listen, I’m just exploring all avenues here. I could be totally off base.”
Exploring all avenues was what they did, what solved cases. Lots of times they started going down a path that turned out to be misguided, but what made them thorough—and what made their solve rate so high—was that they never ignored any possibilities in their investigations, no matter how unlikely.
“What I can’t get my head around is how this new guy made the connection to Professor Merrick. He not only chose UC students, like Josie Stratton, but he chose UC students who had had an affair with the professor.”
That’s what was still bugging Zach too. If they were going with the presumption that a completely different person committed the recent murders—a copycat killer—how had this person known that aspect? He’d have to have chosen them for that reason, otherwise it was just too coincidental. Had it been someone who knew Landish and picked up where he left off to fulfill some mission that was personal to both of them? Or could Jimmy’s questions have merit? Could this “copycat” actually be the person who abducted Josie and kept himself hidden beneath a mask? “Keep reading that report and I’ll talk to Josie. I’ll
text you when we get to the location.”
“One other thing,” Jimmy said. “We got the video surveillance from that grocery store. It was the cousin who hung those articles next to Josie’s flyer. I looked up his picture on his website and compared it to the video footage. No doubt.”
“Shit,” Zach muttered. “I guess I’m not surprised.”
“Nah. Real douche move meant to humiliate her, but no real crime. She could sue him civilly, I guess.” Zach took a hand off the wheel and scrubbed at his jaw, doubting Josie had the funds to sue anyone. Would she even want to waste the time if she did? So the cousin had hung the posters, and some psycho had broken into her home and left a mutilated rat behind. His jaw clenched. He was even more glad they were headed out of town right about now.
“Thanks, Jimmy. We’ll talk soon.”
Zach hung up, tossing his phone back in the console. He was quiet for a minute and when he looked at Josie, she was staring back at him expectantly. “Will you tell me what Jimmy said?”
Zach first told her about her cousin. She stared glumly ahead but didn’t look surprised. “Well that solves that,” she murmured. Zach paused for another moment, and then explained what Jimmy was questioning regarding Landish. As he spoke, Josie’s face registered shock, then denial. She shook her head. “No, Zach. I identified Marshall Landish immediately, even beneath that mask.” She swallowed and he regretted putting the distressed look on her face. “It wasn’t just the way he spoke—although that was unique—it was the way he walked, the way he moved, the way he carried himself, the way he smelled. It was just . . . it was everything about him.”
“Except his face. You never saw his face.”
She shook her head. “No, but I was glad for it. Because I figured it meant he had no idea I knew it was him. I hoped that it would make it more likely he’d let me go because he didn’t have to fear being ID’d and arrested.”
Zach nodded, thinking.
“Also,” Josie went on, “if it was the same guy, he’d not only have had to impersonate Marshall Landish like some professional actor worthy of an Oscar, but it would have meant he staged Marshall’s suicide, planted evidence that would tie him definitively to the crime, lay low for eight years, and then resurfaced to take up abducting girls and starving them to death.” She was talking fast, obviously emotional, and Zach reached over, put his hand on her knee to offer comfort.
“Hey,” he said, “it’s our job to explore every avenue, no matter how implausible.”
“I know.” She nodded, took a deep breath. “I know, and I want to be part of it. I want to help if I can. If there’s something—other than just the copycat aspect—that ties this suspect to Marshall Landish, I want to help you find it. Maybe he knew him . . . maybe he”—she bit at her lip—“is avenging his death somehow.” She paused. “I don’t know. But as far as them being one and the same?” She shook her head. “No, Zach. It was him. It was Marshall Landish. I don’t have the smallest speck of doubt.”
But the uncertain expression on her face as she stared out the car window, belied her words.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Before
Caleb’s wail filled the room, his limbs flailing angrily as he pulled away from Josie’s breast. Josie bounced him in her arm, trying desperately to get him to latch on again. He rooted, latching on once more, content for a moment before he realized no milk was coming. Josie let out a miserable sob. Her milk was drying up, before it had even fully come in. Pain radiated through her abdomen, gripping her insides and twisting, traveling all the way up to her ribs.