The Therapist Chapter 8

Jim Walton was driving home from work. He was still a little spooked from finding a dead body. He’d thought seriously about quitting. But the job was a good experience. If he really wanted to work in law enforcement he should expect to see dead bodies.

He’d left Manchester at seven this morning. He had just enough time to get home and catch a few hours’ sleep before class. It’d been a little over two weeks since he had found Steve Grabben dead in his car. He’d read the article in the paper the next day discovering there had been three killings. All the victims were sex offenders and had been killed in the same way.

Those two detectives, Johnson and Roberts must be busy. He couldn’t imagine anybody was upset about the killings. If the man was killing indiscriminately the story would be in the paper every day. But the story only ran for two days and since then he hadn’t seen anything. People figured if the guy was only killing sex offenders so what.

Walton suddenly realized he should have gone to the bathroom at the office before he left. He was in a hurry though and now he was going to have to stop anyway, always happened. There was a rest area up ahead. No facilities but he could make do. He sped up as it came into view. He put on his blinker and turned right into the parking area.

There was a car parked there and he pulled in behind it. He got out quick and hurried down a path to his right. A couple of minutes later feeling more relaxed he headed back to the car. He noticed there was nobody in the Dodge Acura parked in front of him. Maybe they only got there a couple of minutes before him and were doing the same thing he was.

Walking by the car he looked in. Son of a bitch! This couldn’t be happening. There was a guy in the front seat. Actually, the guy’s head was pressed against the steering wheel. His face looked almost blue. The eyes were wide open but they weren’t seeing anything.

His eyes were drawn to the back of the guy’s seat. No hole. This wasn’t in keeping with the other killings then. Maybe the guy just had a heart attack. He was an older guy. He had to be in his mid-sixties. He didn’t look to be in very good shape. He laughed. That was stupid. Of course, he’s not in good shape. But he looked like a guy who could have had a heart attack.

He wasn’t touching anything. He had detective Johnson’s number. He pulled out his cell found Johnson in his contacts and pressed. Johnson was just getting a cup of coffee outside his office when the phone rang. Roberts was at his desk. He hollered, “Dave it’s yours.”

“Got it,” Johnson said as he entered. “Hello. This is Detective Johnson, can I help you?” Roberts looked over saw Johnson listening intently and realized something was up. “Okay, look, Jim, don’t do anything. Roberts and I are on the way. We will make the necessary calls. We’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” Johnson hung up.“What’s up Dave?”

“That was Jim Walton, the security guy,” Dave said grabbing his keys and heading for the door. Roberts grabbed his jacket and followed. “What did he say,” Jed asked?

“He stopped at the rest area on the highway on his way home from work this morning. Said he had to go the bathroom. There was a car there. There’s a dead guy in it. He said he looked but didn’t see a hole through the back seat. Said the guy looks to be in his mid-sixties. He thinks he might have had a heart attack.” They were talking as they headed for the car. “Thing is though, he gave me the license plate number. Mount Two,” Johnson said. “Jesus Christ Dave, that’s Ronnie Mitchell. You think our Therapist struck again?” “Who else would it be Jed?”

“Could be he propositioned the wrong guy this time,” Roberts replied. “I told Walton not to do anything, just wait. He said he hasn’t touched anything.” Johnson put the blue light on and hit the siren as they headed down Sterns Avenue. Cars moved to the side and he traveled sixty in a posted thirty-five-mile an hour zone. He ran the red light as he entered Old Route 6 and headed for the highway.

He’d be lying if he didn’t say that he liked speeding through like this while cars moved out of his way. He knew it was a sense of power. Some law enforcement officers took too much advantage of it. He understood that but he didn’t condone it and he didn’t allow himself to take advantage of it.

They flew down the road. He saw the old run-down hotel, a snack bar with junk cars, and an old dilapidated business with overgrown grass in front flash past Robert’s window, and then he was braking hard, moving into the turn and getting on the highway.

He gunned the engine, pushing down harder on the gas and the needle jumped to eighty miles per hour. Roberts laughed. “Jesus this Walton kid must be wondering what the hell is going on. He takes this security job a little over two weeks ago and he’s found, two dead guys. You don’t think he has something to do with this do you?”

“No. Though we had better run a check on his background just to be sure,” Johnson replied. “I’ll check on him after we investigate Mitchell’s demise,” Roberts said. “Maybe he just had a heart attack. Nobody’s going to miss him. Sick bastard has been at this game for a long time, can’t believe he never did time.”

Johnson saw the rest area come into view and eased up on the accelerator. Walton stood next to his car. On the right, as they came in were a couple of picnic tables for travelers to eat at. This particular rest area was closed from dusk until seven am. He knew that didn’t stop everyone from using it. Guys like Mitchell clearly didn’t pay any attention to it. If he had he’d probably still be alive.

He pulled in behind Walton. He looked like he was texting. He opened the door and looked around. Mitchell’s Dodge Acura was ahead of Walton’s car. He saw the New York plate with Mount Two written on it. There were a couple of paths leading into the woods. If you followed one of them it would take you up towards the ridges. The fall colors were just beginning. In a few weeks, they would be reaching their peak. The dew was still on the grass and it shimmered in the sunlight.

“Hey Jim, you’re just Johnny on the spot these days. Who are you texting?” “I was just telling a classmate that I might not make it to class today and if he could convey that to the professor. I didn’t say anything about this.” A State Trooper was pulling in behind them. “So how is it that in the last two weeks you have discovered two bodies,” Ryan asked him?

“Just lucky I guess. You’re not asking me if I had anything to do with these killings are you,” Walton replied? “Have to ask, whether I believe it or not, part of covering all the angles.” “Well, I guess I can understand that. But when you find out the time of death, I’m sure you’ll find I was at work.” “Okay, Johnson said. I’m sure you were and that’s what we’ll find. Have to ask.”

“Understood,” Walton replied. “Sergeant, Can you get the scene taped off and check who enters and leaves,” Johnson heard Roberts ask the trooper. “Better take a look at this Dave,” Roberts said. “What have you got?” Johnson asked walking over to Roberts who stood by the driver’s side door of Mitchell’s car.

“It’s more of what we don’t have. No newspaper article with his name or picture. No entry wound through the back. But he was murdered. He was killed by someone sitting in the front.” “You think Mitchell knew his killer,” Johnson asked? “I don’t know,” Roberts replied. “The way Mitchell operated it’s hard to tell. Could have been somebody he just met an hour before or somebody he’d propositioned before who saw an opportunity and took it.”

“Or,” Johnson said, “It could be our killer.” “I don’t know Dave, Mitchell was low profile. I think he had one conviction for lewd and lascivious which landed him on the registry. It’s not likely he would have been on anybody’s radar screen, much less our killers,” Jed surmised.

“Crazy isn’t it. He drives around with a license plate that anyone would remember. It was his personal calling card and he’s been reported numerous times for sexually crude behavior,” Dave shot back. Jed laughed, “Your right Dave, propositioning hitchhikers is pretty damn crude.”

“Some of those hitch-hikers were as young as fourteen Jed. Imagine the impact a proposition like that has on a fourteen-year-old.” “Maybe, maybe one of them grew up and last night came across Mitchell again. Maybe he decided it was time Mitchell was stopped,” Jed responded.

“There is one match,” Roberts said. “The weapon he was killed with. He was stabbed just under the right arm. The wound probably ruptured the lungs and he died quickly. From the condition of the body, it looks like he was killed before midnight last night.”

Johnson wondered if this could have been a random killing or just a pick-up gone bad. Johnson knew these rest areas were a common meeting place for a little action. They were generally consenting adults just wanting to get their jollies. He’d never seen it lead to murder. This would have been a normal thing for Mitchell.

Because he’d been killed in his car Johnson figured Mitchell must have been in the rest area waiting. He may have been waiting for someone or just waiting to see what would happen. Another car would have pulled in and flashed their headlights. Mitchell would have responded by flashing his and unlocking his passenger door.

The other person would have grabbed the door handle and gotten in. He would not have worried about fingerprints. He was there to have sex not kill Mitchell. He called Roberts and explained his thinking. Roberts said. “We’ll know in a few minutes. If there are no fingerprints and I believe there won’t be, there’s the possibility the Therapist has struck again.”

“If that’s the case,” Johnson said. “Than this guy really knows how these predators operate. He would have seen Mitchell on the highway and followed him until he pulled in here. He would have had to know that flashing his lights would signal he wanted some action.”

“Yeah,” Roberts said. “That’s not something most people would even think about.” Mitchell probably wanted some action so bad that he just figured someone he knew recognized his license plate and pulled in for a little action too, narcissistic bastard.”

The Crime Lab Van was pulling into the rest area. Traffic on the highway was starting to slow down. Human nature, people could smell when something out of the ordinary was happening. Johnson turned to Roberts, “Have you found any places that might give someone experience in understanding the behaviors of these guys”?

“I checked with Smitty at Probation and Parole,” Roberts said. “He said the only place he could think of was the Cottage Street Therapeutic Treatment Facility for Juvenile Sex Offenders. It’s in Springfield. I was going to check it out.”

“That’s okay. I’ll check it out. I’ll drive over and ask some questions. Maybe they can give us some insight on who might want to do this. Maybe they’ve seen people lurking around, someone who might seem out of place,” Dave said. “Okay,” Jed responded. “Are you going out of town next weekend Dave?” “Yeah, I’m headed for New Hampshire, why are you asking,” Dave questioned him?

“These killings are starting to catch a lot of attention and I know you weren’t able to get away last weekend so I guess it just popped into my head,” Roberts answered back. “Sorry, Jed didn’t mean to jump on you. I’ve just got a lot going on these days and these killings are only adding to the pressure.” “This being an election year I understand why,” Jed added.

“Yea Major Levin’s getting pressure from the Governor to bring in the Special Investigative Unit to assist us in the investigation,” Dave said. “And?” Jed waited.

“I told him we had three dead offenders, no physical leads, and nothing the Unit could do that we weren’t already doing. He said he had enough pull to keep the Governor off our back for a while yet but we needed to find something to go on soon,” Dave finished.

“And now we have Mitchell. Look, Dave, the Major’s an upfront guy he knows your one of his best. He’s going to let you, us, do our job. We have an idea this could be the same guy but it’s not the same scenario. It’s not the first Thursday of the month, there’s no newspaper article, and the killer struck from the front seat, presumably after being let in by Mitchell himself,” Jed finished.

“Your right Jed, we’ll just keep plugging away, and hope for a break. Eventually, this guy will make a mistake. We’ll look at the evidence here. Maybe we’ll find it was a random killing. It shouldn’t surprise anyone who knew Mitchell that he got himself killed.”

“A lot of people who knew him won’t lose any sleep over it either,” Jed added. “I thought Sherri over at Taco Bell might have seen something the night Stover exposed himself to her but she said she was too scared to notice, doesn’t even remember what streets they drove on,” Dave sighed.

“Okay,” Roberts said slapping Dave on the shoulder. “Let’s see what we find here and we’ll go from there.” Dave smiled. “Thanks, Jed, I knew I could count on you to understand.”

Jed laughed, “Thanks for the vote of confidence Dave.” Jed not only liked Dave Johnson he also had a great deal of respect for him. Dave had taught him the ropes and in turn, Jed had got Dave to open up a little. It wasn’t a lot but a little. Dave was from out of state. Jed had grown up here and helped Dave to understand the people a little.

Dave thought in a small rural state like this everyone would be open and friendly. He laughed to himself. A lot of people made that mistake when they moved here. People were friendly enough if you were related to them but people here liked to keep to themselves. It was rare that they reached out to strangers. It was especially true of those who didn’t seem to need it. Dave was one of those guys.

Dave was confident. When you first met him he seemed to be aloof almost arrogant, but he was neither of those things. Jed had a brother but they were completely different people and didn’t see each other that often. It wasn’t that there was any animosity between them they just had different lives, different interests. He had much more in common with Dave. Jed was doing what he’d always wanted to do. He loved being a detective and he owed a part of that to Dave Johnson.