up. As much as he was tempted to slide back into bed with Liza, there was a killer on the loose, and he was not going to sit on anything, be it a lead or a follow-up. He went to the bathroom where he brushed his teeth and took a quick shower and then grabbed a pair of track pants and a T-shirt from his dryer. He’d put the load of laundry in there a week ago and forgotten about it, but at least he’d put it in the dryer and not left it in the washer. It was clean, if not a little wrinkled.
He brought his cell to the living room and scrolled down through his recent calls, locating the one he recognized as belonging to Gordon Draper. He paused before hitting send, staring out the window unseeing, thinking about the ways in which the man’s grandson was connected to the victims. Connections were forming everywhere but still no clear picture, like having the entire edge of a puzzle done, but not being able to identify the subject.
Everett Draper had dated or had some form of romantic relationship with the girl who’d made a complaint against one of the murder victims, Sadowski, the victim who took over for his grandfather when he retired from Lakeside. He’d lived at the halfway house where several residents had been victimized by Toby Resnick, another murder victim, and Clifford Schlomer, a murder victim as well.
He seemed to be at the center of so much relating to the crimes.
But Everett was dead.
Reed let out a sigh of frustration and hit the send button, listening as the phone rang. The old man picked up after a few rings.
“Hello, Mr. Draper, sorry to bother you so early. It’s Detective Davies again.”
“Oh, no bother, Detective. This isn’t early for an old man like me whose creaky body begins waking him up at the crack of dawn. What can I do for you?”
“I just have a quick follow-up question actually. You said your grandson Everett hadn’t mentioned dating a woman at the halfway house where he lived. But we have reason to believe he was seeing a woman named Sophia Miller. I wondered if that rang any bells?”
There was a very brief pause. “I’m sorry, that doesn’t sound familiar to me. Can I ask why you haven’t asked her to confirm her relationship with my grandson?”
“Unfortunately, she’s deceased.”
“Deceased? How?”
“I’m sorry to say she overdosed.” He tried to remember the date she’d died, but without his case file in front of him, he couldn’t remember exactly. He believed it would’ve been a few months before Everett. He wondered if it had anything to do with the man’s own suicide.
“Oh. Oh dear. Well,” Mr. Draper sighed. “That’s terrible news. Pity for her family. No one understands the lasting effect of such a situation better than I do.”
Reed frowned, regretting that he’d picked at the old man’s scab. “I’m sorry, Mr. Draper.”
“No need to apologize.” He paused again. “I’m sorry I can’t offer more. But now, that would hardly be fair.” He let out a soft chuckle and Reed smiled at the odd joke. “This killer of yours, though, there has to be an endgame, right?”
“An endgame?”
“Yes. Something that wraps this all up nicely for him. Maybe there’s even a bow.” He swore he heard the old man’s mouth move into a smile on the other end of the line.
“Actually, that’s not generally the case. These types of murderers will usually keep killing until they’re stopped.”
“Hmm. Interesting. Even him? His whole MO seems very specific. Almost as though he’s leading up to something. No, there’s an endgame, son. What is it, I wonder? Have you read the conclusion to those comics?”
Reed let out an uncomfortable laugh. “You really have been keeping close tabs on the case,” he said. The comment unnerved him though. Did the old man have insider information? Or had he just picked up the idea from news reports? Reed pictured Gordon Draper sitting in his wheelchair in front of the TV, flipping from station to station as they broadcast the latest, pontificating on every angle as the media liked to do. He almost felt bad for Draper. A lonely man with no family left, no career, only his regrets to keep him company. Along with TV marathons of Law and Order. Those were always the folks who got overly involved with police investigations.
Mr. Draper laughed. “What can I say? I’m a bored old man with only my garden