Chapter 8

"Who is this?" asked Dotty sounding as spunky as usual. She hadn't recognized my whispering voice in her telephone receiver.

"It's Joe."

"Hi babe," she said, sounding even more chipper. "What's with the whispering?"

"I don't want to wake up Mila. Can I come over?"

"Of course. Give me 20 minutes. I gotta throw something on."

"If it's any trouble..."

"Are you kidding? I'll meet you in front of the apartment."

"Good idea," I whispered. She chuckled for a second and hung up.

Though clearly happy to see me, Dotty just gave me a quick kiss when she picked me up in her van. Otherwise she restrained herself from affection and seduction. She was all business. Wanting to look at my evidence, I warned her of its graphic nature, but she insisted. I could see the look of pain when she perused the horrible images of Vy and Jane Doe, but she held up.

I brought out my magnifying glass to look closer at Vy's clothing and skin and discovered a darkened area on her shirtsleeve and on her hand. The photos in black and white, I couldn't tell if it was blood. I decided to call the Medical Examiner instead of Dichter. After explaining my business, he surprisingly let me know that there were bloodstains, but not enough to get a sample. I asked him about the fingernails, and he told me they found skin underneath them. Unfortunately when I asked if he knew the part of the body the skin came from he didn't.

I called Eileen. In the field, when paged, she responded within five minutes. No reason to hold back information, tying Vy with the Tacoma body would bring greater investigative force to my case. I didn't know if she shared the information, but if new to her, it would help encourage her to respect me and work with me. As it turned out I blew her away. Aware of the Olympia abduction, my pharmacy robbery focus she hadn't considered. When I told her of the suspect's bust in Ogden she got excited.

"You have a photo of him?" she asked. "How soon can you come up and meet me?"

Letting her know I had no idea of travel times, Dotty made herself known. At first Eileen sounded miffed that Dotty had been listening in, but Dotty explained her position as bloodhound in training and the humor relaxed Eileen. They negotiated a place to meet. Since Eileen was a hundred miles south of Seattle, the time lessened but still involved a bit of a trip.

Because we headed fairly close to Seattle, I decided to stop by Mila's apartment and ask Kenneth if he wanted to join us. And it being the day of his first date with Mila, I figured it could be extended with the travel and he would end up with her in more familiar environs. When Dotty and I arrived, Kenneth sat in his familiar place in front of the computer wearing a t-shirt and underpants. Mila lay in bed awake. Unsure how she'd react to me being with Dotty, but she smiled.

"We've been having a very nice conversation," explained Mila.

"I guess our date has already started," said Kenneth.

Both Mila and Kenneth expressed excitement joining us. Dotty told them the van only sat two. She could exchange vehicles with Zach or I could rent a car.

"I could use the space of the van," said Kenneth. "I'll give you my address in Seattle so you can swing by. I want to bring some equipment down for tomorrow's benefit. I'll rent a car at the airport here and Mila and I will drive it north. We'll follow you to Eileen and then, unless we're needed, head to Seattle on our own. Just give me a call when you're ready to swing by."

Mila slipped out of bed, stretched broadly and cutely, then took Dotty's hand and led her to the kitchen. Kenneth had found the address and phone number of Utley's parents before I even asked, anticipating my first question. After printing it out, he shut the computer down, and threw on his clothes.

"Would you mind stopping at the hotel so I can have a quick shower and change? There's a nice little diner nearby you could have breakfast at while you're waiting. I want to look and smell my best for Mila." Of course I agreed.

I heard the shower running and we headed into the living room. Dotty hopped into my arms and gave me one of her sexier kisses. When it ended, she looked ecstatic and cool at the same time in a way only Dotty could. "Mila gave me permission to love you," she explained.

"That was nice of her," I said, smiling. We kissed again, Dotty grinding her crotch down on my hardening cock and then slipped back onto her feet. We sat and waited for Mila to finish her ablutions. Despite her usual spunky energy, I had noticed lack of sleep in the slightly bruised colored flesh beneath Dotty's eyes and asked if she'd been getting any sleep.

"We've been rehearsing with Joan Jett!" said Dotty excitedly. "She's going to be singing some of Vy's songs and a couple of her own with 'to molt.' We're calling it 'molted.' She's cool and really sweet. I didn't even know she was a fan until she contacted Paula and Paula set it up."

"I never thought you'd be star struck," I said.

"She's a hero," said Dotty, "or a heroine I guess. I got over the nervousness pretty quick and found out she's also this great person, almost in Vy's league." We suffered a moment from the loss of our unique friend.

Mila entered the living room draped in a towel. "What's the plan?" she asked. "Are we staying in Seattle?"

"That makes sense," I said.

"I have a comfortable couch I can sleep on," said Kenneth.

"We'll see," said Mila with a wink. Kenneth blushed. Mila closed the bedroom door behind her.

"We'll swing by early tomorrow and pick up your stuff," I said.

"How early?" asked Kenneth. I looked at Dotty.

"It's at least five hours driving," she said with a shrug but looking surprisingly nonplussed. "I need to be at the Pantages by eleven. I hope you can drive my van," she said to me, "because I plan on napping the whole way."

"So we're talking around five a.m.," said Kenneth cringing.

"We'll just grab your stuff and go. You can go back to sleep."

"I should be there early, too, to set up my equipment before the audience arrives."

"What's that Warren Zevon song?" I asked.

"ʻI'll Sleep When I'm Dead'," all three of us said simultaneously. Then we all let out our version of something between a sigh and a laugh.

"At least the girls will get their beauty rest," said Kenneth.

Dashing through traffic on Highway 5, we made it early to the diner south of Olympia before Eileen had arrived. We were in the middle of our sandwiches when a woman dressed in FBI uniform suit and tie entered. She must have looked at Kenneth's site because she headed right for our booth. She was a large woman, a couple inches shy of 6 feet, with shoulder length strawberry blonde hair and a beautiful face. Her head was large like movie actors supposedly have, and her face would have worked for the camera, perfectly proportioned with green eyes and a relatively small nose. She looked to be in her mid thirties.

Instead of sitting with us, after introductions she asked to talk to me alone, and for me to bring my paperwork. She agreed to let Dotty tag along with a resigned reluctance.

She led us across a parking lot of a small neighboring motel, a typical single story cheap motel found off highways throughout the US. She tapped on a door and her partner opened it. The same height as Eileen he seemed smaller because of his leaner body, more typical and much plainer head with a crew cut giving him a conservative air. The room became a hub for the field work she headed. It had extensions and a large fax machine. I handed her the mug shots of Utley and she gave them to her partner who faxed them off to various locations and had the fax machine make copies. Meanwhile we exchanged piles of paper. While she went through mine, pulling out sheets, Dotty and I examined the reports and crime scene photos of the Tacoma woman. The neck bruises were there. The raw, overstretched vagina was there. The clothes were cut in the same manner.

"Why is Vy's murder different from the others?" asked Eileen in her sexy rasp of a voice, the cigarette she inhaled giving evidence to where the rasp came from.

"Vy was a fighter," I explained. "She worked out regularly and knew martial arts. I don't think Utley expected such resistance. I think he might have weakened her with chloroform but had to smash her head against some corner bricks to get her down. When she continued to resist, he smashed her head against the concrete alley pavement. He could only cut her pants open and rape her before he strangled her to death. Maybe the head bashing made her less attractive, or he decided she'd be a problem as a kidnap victim."

"Makes sense." She studied the map. "Derek, call Boise. Ask if any pharmacies have been broken into in the region in the last month." She handed her partner the map and pulled out the address and phone number of Utley's cellmate. "Who is this?"

"It might be a long shot," I explained, "but looking at Utley's mug shots I sensed smugness and I thought he might brag about past indiscretions."

"Interesting."

"I thought it would be worth an interview. I also have Utley's parents' information. If they're willing to talk about their son, like an abused girlfriend or something..."

Eileen nodded but had moved on in her perusal of Kenneth's documents. She interrupted me. "This discharge from the Merchant Marines is interesting. The captain and the company he employing him are listed. Maybe we can get more specific reasons for his discharge. Follow me."

Grabbing my paperwork in hand, she exited the room. Dotty and I followed, Dotty hurriedly replacing the Tacoma evidence back in the folder and neatening it up as we walked. As it turned out we only needed to go next door. Unlocking the door with the brass key, the large green plastic rectangle dangling from it with the room number on it, Eileen opened the room and let us enter ahead of her. It smelled of blood and excrement. The queen sized bed had been stripped and the mattress showed a large brownish red stain. A piece of the fabric had been cut out at the center of the stain.

"We haven't gotten the test back yet, but we're pretty sure it was Brandy." (Brandy being the name of the Tacoma victim)

"No fingerprints?" I asked.

"Not one. The guy wiped everything down. Let me show you the bathroom." The shower curtain was missing and a dark red stain surrounded the tub drain. Also the mirror had been broken like a sledgehammer hit it or a man with indecently large hands. "His one mistake. He tried cleaning up his blood, but left some. We're testing it. Obviously he wasn't as satisfied with Brandy as he had hoped."

"Or he took a good look at his reflection," said Dotty.

"But he picked up the girl in Olympia pretty quickly after he dropped the body," said Eileen. I nodded.

"I suppose the shower curtain could be anywhere." I said. It hadn't been in any of the crime scene photos. Eileen nodded. "So you have a witness. He checked in."

"Unfortunately no. He broke in. The motel isn't very popular. This room is rarely used."

"He must have cased the place to know that," I said.

"That's what the mug shots are for, but what we need is the car, because he probably stayed in it while casing the joint." Suddenly Eileen thought of something and raced out of the room. We followed, not wanting to be in there any longer than possible. She talked to her partner, his hand over the phone. He nodded. Eileen returned to us outside on the pebble and dirt parking lot.

"I'm having Derek ask if any large cars or vans were seen at any of the pharmacies. He's a big guy and he needs space to hide the body and maybe even do some of his assault in the car or van."

"But if it's some gang, it wouldn't necessarily be his car." I said.

"If you intended on robbing a place with a couple other guys, wouldn't you want the biggest vehicle available?" asked Eileen rhetorically.

Eileen let me use one of the phones in the makeshift headquarters, and I called Porter Wiggins, Utley's cellmate. He said he had a doozey of a story to tell but would only talk face to face and with an exchange of cash. I set a date for Sunday.

The next call went to Utley's parents. At first when I mentioned his son the father nearly hung up, but it wasn't because he didn't want to talk. Playing coy about my intentions, claiming to be a friend supposed to meet him and his no show concerning turned out to be wrong tact. "I don't give a damn where he is," said the father.

"Wait," I said loudly and the connection remained. "I'm a private investigator working for a woman assaulted by him. Can you tell me anything about him? Any assaults or bad behavior while growing up?"

"Yep," said the dad. "He had a girlfriend he beat up pretty bad. Spent a year in juvenile detention and came out worse than when he went in. He worked for me at my pharmacy until we caught him..."

"Stealing?" I said when his father paused.

"Yeah, but more than that. He had a little science project in a field near our house. A couple of our dogs went missing, first one, than when we got a new one it disappeared too. Then the neighbor's pets disappeared. The same thing had happened when he was 11 or 12, but we never tied him to it, though I'll never forget a stench at that time which later I would figure he caused. This time we knew what he did. My wife saw him one night carrying a dog in his arms and followed him. In a small clearing a bunch of fresh graves had been dug. He injected some mixture of desoxyn and morphine into the critter and pulled out a knife. My wife freaked out and ran to the house. He followed her, yelling that he'd hurt us if the cops were called. Then he grabbed the keys to our station wagon and that was the last we saw him. Didn't even report the car stolen. Didn't want to have anything to do with the boy." I heard the tightness in the father's throat.

"What was the make and model of the car?" I asked.

"A 1978 green Chrysler Town & Country station wagon. I'm sure the license plate doesn't matter but I may still have the VIN number if you want to call me back in say half an hour."

"I'll do that," I said.

"It may seem I'm a bad parent, but his siblings turned out all right. He just ... You couldn't trust him. He would be a nice kid one minute and the devil the next. Thing is, I think he was both but at the service of the devil. The nice bit he used as a disguise. Pretty smart, he could be charming which was why I had him working in my store. Our family is all pretty big. I'm 6'5" and my wife's just under six feet, but he was the biggest by far. The baby of the family, he stood as tall as his oldest brother by 14. Looking at him he seemed like a dumb ox, but then he'd charm you. Maybe his looks and his size and his smarts made him the ultimate bully. Whatever it was, he scared us and made no effort to not be scary. Anyway, I'll go see if I got the number for the car."

"Holy shit," I said when I hung up. Dotty wanted to know what I learned, but I decided to wait until Eileen got off her phone.

"I'll go check on Mila and Kenneth," said Dotty.

"I'll come with you," I said. "I need to call the parents back in half an hour anyway."

Kenneth waited for us outside the diner with two small white bags in hand. "Mila's in the toilet. We're going to head out. I had the waitress doggy bag your lunches," he said handing me one of the bags. "It's not impatience, but you guys took awhile and we didn't want to get into Seattle too late. So I take it it was a productive meeting."

"Very," I said. Mila emerged from the diner and came up to me. We hugged and kissed like lovers separating at a terminal, a sort of bon voyage kiss. As they got into their rental I said, "You kids have fun." Mila smiled and waved through the windshield and Kenneth gave me a wink. It seemed Kenneth's fantasy date at least started well.