“That’s what I was saying. I think the Godfather locked up the wrong guy. Serial killers rarely have kids. Psychopaths rarely have kids. Hell, ninety percent of all unsubs are childless because they can’t form healthy relationships long enough to have children. The guy they locked away was a doting father of two kids. Single parent too. His wife died five years earlier in a car accident. His kids were never late to school or neglected in anyway. They argued how impossible it was that he was the killer, claiming he was home with them every night and helping make supper as a family.”
“Why did he get pinned with it then?”
“DNA. They found his jizz at the crime scenes.”
“Way to be professional. But that is pretty incriminating.”
“Or brilliant. Who gets off on controlling a situation?”
“Narcissists. You think the killer was a narcissist?”
“Maybe it’s because of the Boogeyman thing still being so fresh, but yes. I think there was a whatever you said with some narcissism tossed in there. I think the true killer framed our guy. Why else would someone so organized blatantly leave behind DNA? And get this, they found two types of spermicide on each victim.”
“But spermicide is from condoms. If he left behind sperm, then why wear a condom?”
“Sounds like questions that should have been asked ten years ago. Anyway, he had two kids, but they’re no longer in Delaney Grove. There was an accident that happened shortly after their father was found dead in the county holding cell.”
“What?” I ask, confused. “What happened in the holding cell?”
“Yeah. Robert Evans died the day he was convicted. The coroner’s report had three words: He hung himself. Legit, that’s all it says. Then the kids went missing two nights later.”
“Fuuuuck. What happened?”
“I had to dig deep to find the report, because they went to a hospital five towns over. Long way to drive for a doctor when one is right in town. Supposedly there was a car accident, but the boy—seventeen—had severe signs of sexual trauma, and get this…he was castrated.”
I swallow the bile in my throat. “That’s our unsub.”
“You’d think. But unless he’s killing as a zombie, it’s not possible. He died that night in the hospital after somehow managing to drive him and his sister there, despite his injuries. If he drove from Delaney Grove… Hell, I don’t know how he didn’t die from the blood loss alone. The sister was beat to hell and back, stabbed multiple times, face caved in, a huge piece of glass sticking out of her. She had severe signs of sexual trauma too, but she claimed it was a car accident, just like he did. It’s noted they were too scared to speak, and the girl died later that night from complications. That’s all I could charm out of a helpful nurse without a warrant.”
My hand runs over the scar on Lana’s side, even though it’s covered by her clothing. Lana is sleeping hard, not noticing the way I touch her. The glass part strikes a nerve, reminding how she’s actually come close to dying twice now.
I’m going to put her in a bubble.
“That’s fucked up. All of it is fucked up. Get those case files. Why have I never heard of this before?”
“It never made headline news because of some terrorist threat that was going on at the same time. If they locked up the wrong guy—”
“Then that means there’s another serial killer who has had ten more years to pile up a body count. And it also could have set the dominoes in motion for this revenge killing spree. Small town justice is always an issue. We usually have to transport prisoners ourselves, but….why the kids? How sick is that town?”
“The girl was just sixteen at the time. The boy had a scholarship to a drama program in New York. They were leaving town eventually. I know that town put them in that hospital. That’s why they drove far away from it to die. The guy might have survived if he’d stopped sooner. But he didn’t. He just drove as far as he could to get them away from Delaney Grove. I can’t prove it, but my gut is telling me that’s what happened.”
“Talk to the town. See what you can figure out.”
He grows quiet. For a long time.
“Any chance he won’t take innocent bystanders down?”
“The unsub?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
“Revenge killers always take it too far, killing too many people for the smallest infractions. Don’t try to make him a hero. He may kill some monsters, but he’ll take out some good people too. And no one has the right to decide who lives or dies.”
I’m not entirely sure I’m convinced of that even as the words leave my mouth. If Lana had died at the hands of Plemmons, I would have stalked the world until I found him and put him in the grave.
I don’t say that aloud though.
“Right. You’re right. I just… These cases are always the hardest.”