wouldn’t be at home tomorrow night and Charlie would be, then tomorrow evening at midnight would be the perfect time to kill him.
The minute Maleah hung up the phone after her conversation with Sanders, she brought up Mike Birkett’s number from her list of contacts. When she had agreed to take Lorie Hammonds’s case, she had thought it a good idea to include both the sheriff’s private number as well as the department’s number.
During the four days she had been on the job, she had spent most of that time digging into Lorie’s past and present acquaintances. When she had lived in the LA area, Lorie had encountered a few unsavory characters and had even lived with one, a guy named Dean Wilson, who, under the stage name of Woody Wilson, had starred in a string of low-budget porno movies.
And as fate would have it, just that morning, she had received information via Powell’s investigative research department that Dean Wilson was dead. He had been murdered in January and his killer was still at large. His brother had discovered Dean’s body at the family mountain cabin outside Gatlinburg, a short drive from Knoxville.
She remembered that Lorie had mentioned the first threatening letter she received had been postmarked Knoxville. Before talking to Sanders, Maleah had thought perhaps it was nothing more than an odd coincidence that Lorie’s old lover had been murdered only a couple of months ago.
“These two murders—Dean Wilson and Hilary Finch Chambless—cannot be a mere coincidence,” Sanders had said. “Both were shot several times, both were stripped naked, both were wearing fancy masks. Add to that the fact they were both porno stars and had worked together in numerous films and you pretty much erase the possibility of coincidence.”
“What about threatening letters?” Maleah had asked. “Did Dean Wilson and Hilary Chambless receive letters?”
“Jared Wilson did not know anything about his brother receiving threatening letters. But Hilary Chambless received two letters, the wording identical on both and the same as the ones Lorie Hammonds received.”
“We have to take these threats seriously. Lorie told me that she made one porno movie, just a bit part, but the stars of that movie were Hilary Finch—better known then as Dewey Flowers—and Dean ‘Woody’ Wilson.”
“Notify the local authorities, as well as Ms. Hammonds,” Sanders had instructed her. “And I will call Derek Lawrence. He should arrive in Dunmore tomorrow. You will work together on this case and the two of you will share all information with Holt Keinan and with Ben Corbett and Michelle Allen. Holt is in charge of the Chambless case. Ben and Michelle start work on the Wilson case tomorrow. Since it is obvious the three cases overlap, this will be a joint effort, as of now.”
Maleah groaned silently. The last person on earth she wanted to work with was Derek Lawrence. The man was a cocky, egotistical know-it-all. He’d been an FBI profiler and now worked as a consultant for the Powell Agency. In the course of various cases, their paths had often crossed, but whenever possible, she avoided the man as if he was the bubonic plague.
Maleah tapped Mike Birkett’s private number when it appeared on the iPhone screen and waited for him to answer. Whether the man liked it or not, he was going to have to take Lorie’s death threats seriously. Unless she missed her guess, there was a serial killer out there somewhere.
Lorie took the one-serving freezer packet out of the refrigerator, opened it, and slid it onto a microwavable plate. She had prepared the lasagna two weeks ago and divided it into six servings, eaten one, and frozen the rest for future meals. Today had been a long and tiring day at Treasures. Not only did they sell antiques, their store had a home décor and gift section. With Easter just around the corner, quite a few customers were taking advantage of the pre-Easter sale that would run from today until
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