CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

As it happened, the hospital was closer to the crime scene than the A1, so Avery arrived only a few moments after Kellaway. Finley was also with her, both of them with their shoulders hunched up against a drizzle of cold rain that had just started to fall. Avery got out of her car, pulled a light coat on over her own shoulders, and joined them at their cars.

The house was located on a small strip of side road that branched off from the central highway. The houses were not close together, with at least an acre or so of land separating each property. It was the sort of place that could still be referred to as a neighborhood rather than a subdivision. They started toward the house as a trio, heading toward the partially opened front door and the single police officer waiting in the doorway.

“What do we know for sure?” Avery asked.

“If it’s all the same to you,” Kellaway said, “I’d rather see it for myself before I try describing what I’ve been told.”

“She’s right,” Finley said. “The poor guy that called it in…from what I understand, he sounded like a lunatic.”

“Yeah, a coworker discovered the body about forty minutes ago,” Kellaway said. “She didn’t show up for work, her supervisor got pissed because they were against deadline, and he actually sent someone to her home to look for her when she wouldn’t answer emails or her phone.”

They had reached the porch by this point. They ducked under the yellow crime scene tape that had been strung up between the porch rails. The officer in the doorway nodded as he heard Kellaway relaying the information.

“That’s right. Poor bastard had to be escorted home. He was a mess.”

“And you were the first officer on the scene?” Avery asked. He was a familiar face—one she’d seen countless times but never really got to know. A slightly overweight man by the name of Hancock.

“I was,” Hancock said. “And yeah…it creeped me the hell out, too. See for yourself.”

Hancock stepped aside, looking to be very glad that he could step out into the fresh air.

When Avery stepped into the house, she saw that Kellaway had not been exaggerating. It looked like something straight out of a horror movie. First, the body lying in the floor was coated in blood. A pool of it expanded about two feet around in her all directions. There were stab wounds everywhere, even in the left side of the woman’s jaw. A quick initial glance allowed Avery to count at least seven stab wounds.

But beyond the body, there were the clowns. So many clowns. Dolls, porcelain figurines, cardboard cutouts, stuffed figures…there were at least thirty of them and they were all looking in the direction of the front door.

“What the hell happened here?” Finley whispered.

Avery hunkered down as close as she could to the body without placing a foot into the blood. She saw that her count of seven wounds had been off. She now saw ten clearly. She wondered how many more there might be on her back. She also saw a stain that seemed inconsistent with the bloodstains, located at her crotch.

“She urinated on herself,” Avery said, pointing out the dark splotch.

“And my God, look at her eyes,” Kellaway said.

Avery had noticed the eyes, too. Wide open, frozen in terror. Just like Alfred Lawnbrook. Just like Abby Costello.

“We have a name?” Avery asked.

Hancock poked his head back into the house, his voice light and almost dreamlike. “Janice Saunders. In the middle of a divorce, working as a proposal specialist for some government agency in town from what I understand.”

“Has anyone talked to the neighbors yet?”

Before Hancock could answer her, she heard the sound of approaching sirens as more officers arrived. She looked out of the still-opened door and saw two police cars approaching from the north, from the direction of the highway. But she also saw another vehicle not too far behind. A news van.

“Damn it,” Avery said.

“How do they find out so damned fast?” Finley asked.

“There were too many people involved in this one,” Avery said. “A supervisor at work and then probably a handful of employees who knew the supervisor had sent someone out to search. Add to that the fact that the news has already been on my ass for returning back and it’s a perfect storm. I bet someone was tailing me the moment I left the fucking hospital.”

“Vultures,” Finley said.

“Hancock,” Avery said. “Can you and Finley manage things here for a moment? Stay out until the other officers arrive. Kellaway and I are going to run over to the neighbor’s and see if we can get any sort of information. I’d love to get inside before the news van sees us.”

“I’m good with that,” Finley said.

“Same here,” Hancock said.

Avery and Kellaway made their exit right away. The police cruisers were slowing down to turn into the driveway. The shape of the news van behind them was much clearer now. Avery figured that if someone inside was really paying attention, they’d see her and Kellaway charging across the lawn to the neighbor’s house.

“You ever seen anything like that?” Kellaway asked as they approached the neighbor’s front porch.

“No,” Avery said. “And believe me, I’ve seen a lot of surreal things.”

Spiders…and now clowns. Avery didn’t think there was any doubt now. Fear was certainly an aspect of these murders.

When they climbed the porch stairs to the neighbor’s house, there was a woman already standing at the front door. She was an older woman, perhaps sixty, staring out through a glass screen door at the commotion in Janice Saunders’s driveway. She took a cautious step backward as Avery and Kellaway approached. Avery showed the woman her badge and right away, the lady stepped forward and opened the door for them.

“I’m Detective Black, and this is my partner, Officer Kellaway,” Avery said. “I was wondering if we might have a moment of your time—preferably before the people in those news vans notice we’re over here.”

“What’s happened?” the woman asked.

“I can tell you the basics, but I’d really prefer that we do it inside,” Avery said.

The old woman nodded and allowed them into her home. Before she closed the door behind them, she took one more look outside. From what Avery could tell, she was the reclusive elderly type that thrived on gossip. Probably the type who wanted the news vans and the commotion.

When the door was closed, the woman turned and frowned as if she already knew what had happened. “Has something happened to Janice?”

“I’m afraid so,” Avery said. “She’s been murdered.”

“Oh my God…”

“Ma’am, can I get your name?”

“Courtney Fowler…she’s been murdered?”

“Yes. Were you close?”

“We used to be. But her husband left her about a year ago and since then, she hasn’t done much socializing. I’d try to go by to invite her over for tea or coffee but she was always very distant.”

“Do you know why her husband left her?” Kellaway asked.

“I don’t know for sure, but I think there was an affair of some kind. Those are the rumors I hear, anyway. That her husband got involved in an affair and chose the other woman over her.”

“What do you think the chances are that the ex-husband might be capable of murder?”

Courtney had led them slowly into her living room and sat down on her couch. She removed her eyeglasses and wiped a tear away. “No…he might have been a bastard for leaving her but he’s not the sort to act out in violence.”

“You’re certain of that?” Avery asked.

“I am. Unless he snapped at some point and I was unaware of it, he was a pretty reputable young man.”

“I have another question for you,” Avery said. “And it might seem a little strange. But do you happen to know if Janice had any phobias?”

Courtney thought about it for a moment before nodding slowly, a thought creeping up on her. “Actually, yes. I had a Halloween party here about two years ago, for the people in the neighborhood—a grown-up Halloween party. Janice and her husband came and they dressed up as a witch and her broom, if I recall. Anyway, the night was going splendidly and then one of our neighbors from up the street came over. Another nice couple, really. But the husband had dressed up as a clown. And when Janice saw it, she went into another room. I could tell that she was uneasy. Then when the party congregated all together in that one room—my den area, just on the other side of the living room—Janice freaked out. She was visibly frightened and borderline rude. She left right away.

“Everyone thought she was playing around, you know? So the gentleman that had dressed up as a clown started goofing around with her as she tried to leave. He blocked the door and started chuckling at her, trying to be funny. Janice screamed at him and started crying before she finally pushed him out of her way and left.”

“So you’d place a safe bet on the idea that Janice was afraid of clowns?” Avery asked.

“Oh yes. She called me the following day to apologize. She said she knew it was a stupid and irrational fear, but she’d been scared of them for most of her life.”

“Did she say why?” Kellaway asked.

“I don’t believe so. But I just assumed it was something from her childhood.”

Avery and Kellaway shared a look. They had gotten the information they needed and had also subsequently informed a neighbor that someone she had once known relatively well had been killed. It had only taken about five minutes but it felt much longer…it usually did when Avery had to inform someone of an untimely death.

“Can I ask how she was murdered?” Courtney asked.

“Sorry,” Avery said. “Not at this stage.”

But even as she and Kellaway prepared to make their exit, Avery was now more certain than ever that this killer was somehow motivated by the fear of his victims. There was no tried and true smoking gun but she thought she might find a pretty clear link with another visit to the coroner once the body of Janice Saunders was taken away.