Roadside Crosses

“I told Jim I wanted to give him one of my late wife’s favorite paintings. I remembered him staring at it when he stayed with me after Sarah died.” A scoffing laugh. “I’ll bet it was Jim’s. He probably bought it years ago and one day when Sarah was over at his place she told him she wanted it. Maybe he told Patrizia he sold it to somebody. If she saw the painting now she’d wonder how Sarah had gotten it.”

 

 

This would explain Chilton’s desperation — why he’d take the risk of murdering. The righteous blogger lecturing the world on morality about to be exposed for having an affair — with a woman who’d died. Questions would be raised, an investigation started. And the most important thing in his life — his blog — would have been destroyed. He had to eliminate that threat.

 

The Report is too important to jeopardize… .

 

Lily asked, “But that man at the house, Schaeffer? The statement that James was going to read — it mentioned Travis.”

 

“I’m sure Schaeffer’s plans didn’t originally involve Travis. He’d wanted to kill Chilton for some time — probably since his brother’s death. But when he heard about the Roadside Crosses attacks, he rewrote the statement to include Travis’s name — so no one would suspect Schaeffer himself.”

 

Hawken asked, “How did you figure out Jim was the one, not Schaeffer?”

 

Mostly, she explained, because of what wasn’t in the crime scene reports TJ had just delivered to her.

 

“What wasn’t there?” Hawken asked.

 

“First,” she explained, “there wasn’t any cross to announce the murder of Chilton. The killer had left crosses in public places before the other attacks. But nobody could find the last cross. Second, the perp had used Travis’s bicycle, or his own, to leave tread marks to implicate the boy. But Schaeffer didn’t have a bike anywhere. And then the gun he threatened Chilton with? It wasn’t the Colt stolen from Travis’s father. It was a Smith and Wesson. Finally, there were no flowers or florist’s wire in his car or hotel room.

 

“So, I considered the possibility that Greg Schaeffer wasn’t the Roadside Cross Killer. He just lucked into the case and decided to use it. But, if he wasn’t leaving the crosses, who could it be?”

 

Dance had gone back through the list of suspects. She’d thought of the minister, Reverend Fisk, and his bodyguard, possibly CrimsoninChrist. They were certainly fanatics and had threatened Chilton directly in their postings on the blog. But TJ had gone to see Fisk, the minder and several other key members of the group. They all had alibis for the times of the attacks.

 

She’d also considered Hamilton Royce — the troubleshooter from Sacramento, being paid to shut down the blog because of what Chilton was posting about the Nuclear Facilities Planning Committee. It was a good theory, but the more she’d thought about it, the less likely it seemed. Royce was too obvious a suspect, since he’d already tried to get the blog closed down — and very publicly — by using the state police.

 

Clint Avery, the construction boss, was a possibility too. But she’d learned that Avery’s mysterious meetings after Dance had left his company were with a lawyer specializing in equal employment law and two men who ran a day-labor service. In an area where most employers worried about hiring too many undocumented aliens, Avery was worried about getting sued for hiring too few minorities. He was uneasy with Dance, it seemed, because he was afraid she was really there investigating a civil rights complaint that he was discriminating against Latinos.

 

Dance had also fleetingly considered Travis’s father as the perp, actually wondering if there was some psychological connection between the branches and roses and Bob Brigham’s job as a landscaper. She’d even considered that the perp might be Sammy — troubled, but maybe a savant, cunning, and possibly filled with resentment against his older brother.

 

But even though the family had its problems, those were pretty much the same problems all families had. And both father and son were accounted for during some of the attacks.

 

With a shrug Dance said to the Hawkens, “Finally I ran out of suspects. And came to James Chilton himself.”

 

“Why?” he asked.

 

A to B to X…

 

“I was thinking about something a consultant of ours told me about blogs — about how dangerous they were. And I asked myself: What if Chilton wanted to kill someone? What a great weapon The Report was. Start a rumor, then let the cybermob take over. Nobody would be surprised when the bullied victim snapped. There’s your perpetrator.”

 

Hawken pointed out, “But Jim didn’t say anything about Travis in the blog.”

 

“And that’s what was so brilliant; it made Chilton seem completely innocent. But he didn’t need to mention Travis. He knew how the Internet works. The merest hint he’d done something wrong and the Vengeful Angels would take over.

 

“If Chilton was the perp, I wondered then who was the intended victim. There was nothing about the two girls, Tammy or Kelley, to suggest he wanted to kill them. Or Lyndon Strickland or Mark Watson. You were the other potential victims, of course. I thought back to everything I’d learned about the case. I remembered something odd. You told me that Chilton had hurried to your house in San Diego to be with you and the children the day your wife died. He was there within the hour.”

 

“Right. He’d been in L.A. at a meeting. He got the next commuter flight down.”

 

Dance said, “But he’d told his wife he was in Seattle when he heard that Sarah had died.”

 

“Seattle?” Hawken appeared confused.

 

“In a meeting at Microsoft headquarters. But, no, he was actually in San Diego. He’d been there all along. He never left town after drowning Sarah. He was waiting to hear from you and to get to your house. He needed to.”

 

“Needed to? Why?”

 

“You said he stayed with you, even helped you with the cleaning?”

 

“That’s right.”

 

“I think he wanted to go through the house and destroy anything among Sarah’s possessions that suggested they were having an affair.”

 

“Jesus,” Hawken muttered.

 

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