The City PI and the Country Cop Read Free

might mesh. From what you told
me when we talked two years ago you were living and breathing the
cases even though you knew they were cold. I suspect you still are
or you wouldn’t have agreed to talk with me.”
    Slater shrugged. “When I get time I do go
over everything again, looking for something, anything, we might
have missed. I’ve re-interviewed anyone who knew the two boys—the
ones we were originally able to ID—in the time span before their
murders. The problem is, after nearly thirty years…” He spread his
hands.
    “Yeah. If they did know something back then,
they’ve undoubtedly forgotten it by now. Things like who each of
the boys ran with.”
    “From what I do know about them,” Slater
replied, “they were both gay, they were runaways, and they hustled
to stay alive.”
    Teague sighed. “That undoubtedly fits Chris,
too. The hustling part. Though how he ended up here…”
    “A question I for one don’t know the answer
to. Possibly he hitchhiked and got dropped off here. That’s how one
of the other boys ended up in Wellsburg.”
    “What about the third boy?”
    “From what little we could find out, he just
showed up one day in Laport. That’s about five miles west of here.
Wellsburg’s twelve miles to the north.”
    Teague nodded. “So the killer could have been
living in the area.”
    “That was what the detectives thought back
when the killings happened, but whoever he is, he knew enough not
to leave us any clues.”
    “And now he might be back at it again.”
    “I told you, there are differences in the MO
between our murders and the one in Faircrest.”
    “A copycat then?”
    “Always a possibility. What was done to that
boy matched the info that was made public. The sodomizing, the way
he was tied up, the fact that he was gagged, although in his case
the gag was an old rag not…” Slater shook his head.
    Teague chuckled. “Almost let something out
there? Now if I was going to guess what, I’d say…the victim’s
underwear, or socks.”
    “Good guesses, but I’m not going to confirm
either one.”
    “Why not? It’s not as if I’m going to run to
the newspaper with it. Or with anything else you tell me. I’m
smarter than that and I have a vested interest in finding the
killer—if it is the same man.”
    “He’d be in his early to late fifties by now,
at least,” Slater said. “A bit old to be able to kidnap a teen.
Even one who’s not in the best of shape from living on the
street.”
    “I agree. The chances are it is a
copycat. Are there any similarities between the newest murder and
the others that weren’t let out in news reports?”
    Slater looked as if he didn’t want to answer,
leading Teague to believe there were. Finally Slater nodded,
adding, “But I’m not going to tell you what.”
    “Something to do with the objects used?”
    “Since the coroner couldn’t determine what
those were with any certainty—no.”
    “With how they were strangled? I know a good
ME can tell if the person doing it was right or left-handed.”
    “Not even that because…”
    “Leap of logic maybe,” Teague said. “They
were hanged?”
    “Yes and no.”
    “You’re going to make me drag this out of you
word by word, aren’t you?”
    “Not really, because I have no intention of
telling you any more than I have.”
    “Damn it!”
    “Look, Mr. Donovan, you may be a very good
private detective. In fact, from what I’ve found out about you,
you’re an excellent one and you’re well respected by the police in
your city. But that doesn’t negate the fact that you’re a
civilian.”
    “And God forbid a civilian should try to help
the police find a killer.”
    “Is that what you want to do? Help us? Or do
you want enough information so you can, with luck—and that’s what
it would be—find and deal with the man yourself?”
    Teague gave a brief nod. “That thought had
occurred to me. However, I’m not stupid. Finding him will take more
than just me. The only