“The Conner case captured my attention because circumstances surrounding it bear a striking resemblance to a two-year-old homicide case in Key West, Florida. We’re examining the similarities. If it’s determined that the two cases are related, it will represent a major breakthrough and move us closer to identifying and apprehending a serial perpetrator, to whom the disappearances of at least nine women are attributed.”
The reporter asked him to expand on what the similarities between the cases were, and asked if any new evidence had been discovered. “I can’t comment on an ongoing investigation,” he said. “At this time, all I’ll say is that this individual is under the delusion that he’s outsmarted us. He
hasn’t. We’re smarter. He has left us a distinct signature. He’s tripped up, and doesn’t even realize it.”
The claim didn’t rattle Jasper in the least. It was poppycock. If there had been any evidence connecting him to Marian Harris, Drex’s wannabe-writer charade would have been unnecessary. Agents would have stormed Jasper’s house and placed him under arrest.
Having heard enough of the blather, he was about to switch off the TV when the reporter said, “You’ve taken a man into custody this morning. Drex Easton, who holds a doctorate in criminal psychology. What’s his connection to these cases, and what charges is he facing?”
Drex had a doctorate? He was in custody?
One of the anchors cut to the heart of the matter. “He’s said to have become recently acquainted with Elaine Conner, Jasper Ford, and Ford’s wife, Talia Shafer. Is he considered a suspect in Conner’s murder?”
“No,” the agent replied. “But Easton has, over the course of many years, hindered other FBI investigations by interfering without authority. From the night Ford went missing and Mrs. Conner was killed, Easton has prevented Ford’s wife from cooperating with the investigation. He was arrested this morning. Together they were brought in for questioning. He’s being arraigned this afternoon, facing state charges of tampering with evidence and obstruction of justice. Similar federal charges are pending.”
It appeared to Jasper that the agent wished to say more. Jasper wanted to hear more, but his curiosity went ungratified. The reporter thanked the FBI agent and turned to face the camera, which zoomed in on her.
“Easton’s involvement with the key parties, which has led to his arrest, is a surprising twist in a case that already has authorities baffled.”
“Kelly, what’s the status of the search for Mr. Ford?” asked one of the anchors.
“Ongoing. However, there has been a development.” She went on to relate that fishermen had reeled in one of his shoes. “It’s looking more and more likely that he drowned. I haven’t received confirmation, but the word is that the search for him will be suspended after today.”
She wrapped up, and they returned to the studio. Jasper muted the television but stared at the miming heads for a full minute, trying to assimilate the shocking news that Drex Easton was to be arraigned later today.
What a well-deserved comedown! He wouldn’t be so cocky when standing before a judge, would he? He wouldn’t be glib and disarming. The court would not go all aflutter over the dimple that Elaine had found so dashing. Drex Easton, humbled to the level of a common criminal, would be a sight to behold.
Not that Jasper would go anywhere near that courthouse.
In his current incarnation, the chances of being recognized were slim to none. But it would be foolish to risk exposure when he was so close to being free and clear of this venture and ready to move on to his next.
He turned off the TV and wiped down the remote. Everything else in the room he had already thoroughly sterilized. His suitcase was packed except for the last two items to go into it. It lay open on the end of the bed. He’d hung the Do Not Disturb card on the outside doorknob to ward off the housekeeper, both while he remained and after he was gone.
Watching the noon news had been the last item on his agenda before taking his departure. He confessed that the half-hour delay had been a trifle self-indulgent, but he couldn’t resist watching all the reports about himself, and he had enjoyed them immensely. He could leave Charleston feeling very proud.
Although it did stick in his craw that he was leaving with a major ambition unfulfilled: killing Talia. He had never before abandoned a project without completing it, and it galled him to do so now.
He was undeterred, of course. He would kill her. But the risk of doing so presently was too great. He would wait for several months, perhaps for as long as a year. Which, now that he thought on it, wouldn’t be at all bad. The anticipation of ending her life, especially when she believed him dead, would ferment in his imagination like a fine wine. He could spend idle days fantasizing it.
He wondered if she and Drex had consummated their grubby, base lust for each other? Of course they had. No doubt that’s what they’d been doing while she was supposed to have been cooperating with the police investigation. Jasper didn’t care a whit if they’d screwed like rabbits. He only wished the two of them knew how utterly indifferent he was to it.
It also nagged him that he had to leave without learning what had drawn Drex’s attention to him in the first place. Over the course of many years suggested that for most of Drex’s adult life he had nursed an obsession so consuming that he had bucked the FBI in order to indulge it.
Jasper couldn’t help but wonder what had instigated that fixation. Had it been a particular episode, an individual, or had Easton simply been born with a righteous zeal to seek justice for those who couldn’t obtain it for themselves?
He would like to have had those questions answered. Strictly out of curiosity. He wasn’t afraid that Drex and his fancy PhD would one day close in on him. Whatever authority Drex had possessed previously he’d been stripped of. He’d overstepped, flouted rules, and now was up to his neck in criminal charges. Jasper would love to be inside that courtroom when Drex had to answer for them.
But no. It would be unwise to tempt fate. He would leave as planned. Talia and Drex could play out the rest of their plebeian, romantic melodrama without him.
It wasn’t as though he wished to be the star of it.
New challenges awaited him. He was off to meet them. The FBI was moving closer to identifying and apprehending a serial perpetrator? He had left a signature? He’d been outsmarted? That was a laugh. Who did they think they were dealing with?
“I’m not an amateur, you know. Just ask her.”
He looked behind him at the dead woman on the bed. She lay facedown, her head at an odd angle to her shoulders. The back of her dress had ridden up, revealing thick thighs, lumpy with cellulite.
Stupid cow. He’d needed refuge and hadn’t wanted to press his luck by checking into a hotel. She’d been so trusting. But then, why wouldn’t she be? He had appeared harmless.