Walt Murphy – Part Two – 46

"We're both scared," I told Ricky softly, cupping his face with my hands. "But this is going to work and then we can get back to our normal life again."

"I hate to break up this tender moment," Tom said with a bit of a smile, "but Ricky should go pack some clothes and whatever."

Ricky looked at him in shock. "Now?"

"Yeah. The sooner you're safely away from here, the better."

"What about work?"

"Tomorrow's Sunday. If this goes into Monday, you call in sick."

"It's the middle of tax season."

"And? Would you rather call in dead?"

"Okay, you made your point." Ricky sighed and got up, heading upstairs to pack.

"Keep him safe, that's all I ask," I said as soon as he was out of earshot.

"It's you I'm worried about. What you did was beyond stupid."

"Can you think of another way to make Ben finally show his face?"

"Unfortunately, no. Wherever he is, whatever name he's using, he's managed to keep well hidden. And his father seems bent on protecting him no matter what."

"As I said, Ben is his life."

"I can understand loving your kid, but he's taking it to extremes, if we're right."

"And with luck we'll find out soon enough if we are."

Ricky came back downstairs at that point with a travel bag slung over one shoulder. Tom stood, waiting for Ricky to join him. Before he did, Ricky came to stand in front of me.

"You will be careful, and call me every hour, and don't try to lose the man Tom sends as your backup or whatever they call it and…"

Getting up, I wrapped my arms around him. "Not sure about calling every hour, but yeah, I'll be careful. I'm not stupid."

"Right now that's still up for debate," he said with a small smile. "Just remember I love you and I prefer you alive and kicking to the alternative." Putting his arms around my neck, he kissed me hard.

I returned it, savoring as I always did the taste and feel of him. Then, gently, I unwrapped his arms, telling him, "I love you too. Now go. Tom's waiting."

With a deep sigh, Ricky gave me another kiss, a fast one, before heading to the door.

"I'll be in touch in the morning," Tom told me. "And arm this." He tapped the alarm box.

With that, he and Ricky were gone. I watched until they drove away before closing the door, setting the alarm, and going into the kitchen to throw out our half-eaten sandwiches. Somehow with all that had happened, neither Ricky nor I had managed to take more than a couple of bites of them. Grabbing another beer, I went back into the living room. I needed to go over my plan one more time—what there was of it. I hadn't been lying when I told Tom the farthest I gotten with it so far was my phone call to Carlo. I had ideas floating around in my head, but nothing concrete—yet. So I drank my beer and plotted.

Walt Murphy – Part Two – 45

"Wait a minute. When did you tell him that? Oh hell. That's what you did to—how did you put it? Light a fire under Ben, figuring Carlo would tell him?" Ricky looked as if he didn't know whether to shoot me or just make me move to the farthermost corner of the world where I'd be safe.

"Yeah. And with luck it'll work."

Ricky appealed to Tom, saying, "Can you do something? Please. Give him some… I don't know… Protection maybe?"

"Walt might not be the one who needs it. One of the messages, if I remember correctly, threatened that someone would die if Walt didn't back off. And you were the only one here when Ben tried to break in."

"But he couldn't have known that," Ricky protested.

"If he was watching the house and saw Walt drive away, he would have."

"He did kill someone," I said quietly. "The woman at the Elite Gym. That happened the same night I got that message."

"It might be coincidental, if Carlo was the one trying to scare you off to keep his son safe," Tom pointed out.

"I wonder if Ben told him that he'd killed Ms Engel," Ricky said. "Or if Carlo just presumed it had to be him."

"We probably won't know until this is over," I replied.

"So, Walt, did you have a plan beyond telling Carlo you'd found something of Ben's?" Tom asked.

I shook my head. "More like a hope Ben would come after me to get it."

Tom nodded, looking at Ricky. "I'm putting you in protective custody until this is over."

"Just a minute now," Ricky said angrily. "Why me?"

"Because Ben might, probably will, come after you to get to Walt. With you out of the picture, he'll have to go directly to the source, so to speak."

"No way in hell," Ricky spat out.

I took his hands, gripping them tightly. "You have to, because Tom's right. Ben's crazy. He has to be to have killed the other women. He'd have no second thoughts about using you as a bargaining chip to make me give up whatever he thinks I found—and then killing you afterwards just to show me who's 'boss'. If that happened, we'd never catch him. He has to be forced to come straight to me."

Ricky swallowed hard. "I don't like this one damned bit."

"I'm not exactly happy about it either, but it's the only way. At least I can handle myself."

"Give him body armor," Ricky practically ordered Tom.

"That can be arranged."

"And protection?"

Tom nodded. "I can afford to put one man on him."

Ricky, being Ricky, of course had to say, "He better not be 'on' him." Then he quickly apologized, adding, "That was stupid, but I get that way when I'm scared."

I hugged him. "And when you're being silly, or have had one beer too many, or…"

"Okay. Yeah. Still…"

Walt Murphy – Part Two – 44

I filled Tom in on everything I knew, or thought I knew, and gave him my notes to back up what I'd told him.

"Interesting," he said when he finished reading.

"That's it? Just interesting?"

"Since I've come to some of the same conclusions, yeah, it's interesting that you have too. It means I, we're, probably on the right track. Then only problem is finding Ben. Or whatever he's calling himself now. His father is being very tight-lipped."

"I wonder," Ricky said pensively. "Maybe Carlo thinks the same thing? That Ben's the one who killed Ms Engel?"

I nodded slowly. "It would explain why he's not willing to give me, well us"—I glanced at Tom—"Ben's name or where he's living. The best I've gotten out of Carlo is a hesitation when I asked if Ben lives in the area, before he said he didn't."

"Hardly conclusive," Tom pointed out, "but still telling."

"My thought exactly. He could be in Louisville, close to Carlo, or up here, or anywhere in between."

"Or in Timbuktu, but my guess is you're right. He'd have to be close by considering all he's done in the last week or so."

"Just because we are playing guessing games here, have you checked out Carlo Donati's whereabouts during the relevant times?" I asked Tom.

I could tell he was resisting rolling his eyes when he replied, "Of course. Mr Donati was back in Louisville on Sunday. That's confirmed by his pastor and two golfing buddies. Tuesday he had meetings with various clients at his business. Again, that's confirmed by the clients. The last meeting ended at approximately six pm. He'd have been hard pressed to make it back up here in time to kill the woman in the Elite Gym parking lot."

"Two hundred miles at sixty miles per hour would take approximately three and a third hours, and that doesn't take into account slower speeds in town," Ricky told us.

"The math whiz strikes again," I said, chuckling. "Still, if he's right and I'm sure he is, that would put Carlo here around nine-thirty pm if he left directly from work." Something else occurred to me. Something I should have checked. "Do you know if he owns a motorcycle?"

"He doesn't. He has two cars, a 2012 Chevy SUV that he uses for business, and a BMW sedan, presumably for personal use."

"What color?" I asked.

"You think I keep info like that in my head? Why do you care anyway?"

"Number two on my list."

Tom took a look. "Okay. Hang on." He made a call and asked whoever answered to go to his desk and check his notes on Carlo Donati. A couple of minutes later he hung up. "Medium green."

"So it could have been him," Ricky said. "Or Ben, if he borrowed the car, with or without Carlo's say-so."

I nodded. "Easier to use than the cycle for staking out the house. Presuming of course it was Ben and not just someone visiting the people across the street."

"What if…?" Ricky took a swallow of his beer.

"You gonna leave us hanging?" I asked.

"I just had a wild idea. What if it's both of them? They both had a reason to want Ms Engel dead."

"You're right, that is wild," Tom said. He turned to me. "You've talked with Carlo on a personal level. Do you think he'd be involved if it meant keeping Ben safe, or to muddy the waters?"

"Yeah, I can see that happening," I said after a moment's though. "I think Ben is his world and always has been. But—I don't think Carlo would kill anyone. Take a potshot at me and watch the house? Yes. Maybe even come up with the messages to try to make me back off. Especially if he thought Ms Engel's murder was the only one. He could have convinced himself she deserved it."

"What about someone trying to break in here?" Ricky asked.

"My best guess is, that was Ben. Carlo sounded surprised when I told him Ben had dropped something during his visit here."

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Walt Murphy – Part Two – 43

"I think you're right," Ricky said after reading my notes and listening to my explanation about why I thought Ben was the killer. "Are you going to show this to Detective Sharp?"

"He's probably already come to the same conclusions."

"But you don't know for certain."

I shrugged. "Nope. I'll stop by the precinct on Monday and give him a copy."

"Call him now. We're talking about a murderer here, not someone who runs red lights."

"Red lights?" I chuckled.

"You know what I mean," he grumbled. "This is serious. What if Ben decides to strike again? What if…if he's gotten a taste for killing now?"

"I'm working on that."

"Meaning?" He shot me a questioning look then shook his head. "Now what have you done?"  

"Tried to light a fire under him so he'd show his face."

"Are you crazy?"

"Sometimes."

"Walt…" He glared at me. "Call Sharp. Now!" He even took out his phone and tried to hand it to me. "If Ben takes the bait you'll need protection."

"I can handle things."

"Famous last words. Call Sharp or…or you're cut off for the rest of what could be your very short life."

"Threatening me?" I asked with a slight grin.

"Not a threat. A promise. Damn it, Walt, I don't want him killing you."

"I'm not too partial to that idea either."

I knew Ricky was right, although I was just as worried that he could be the target. Not that I'd tell him. Of course, being the smart man that he is, he'll probably figure that out for himself any time now.  

I used my phone to call Tom. He wasn't working but I asked the dispatcher to get a message to him that I needed to talk to him ASAP. The last time I'd done that was during the theft case. When he returned my call this time, about ten minutes after I'd talked to the dispatcher, his first words were the same one's he'd used then.

"This better be damned important."

"Ricky thinks it is," I replied.

"Meaning you've gone and done something stupid?" I could hear a trace of laughter in Tom's voice. "Okay, tell me." I'd barely started when he said, "Hold that thought. We need to talk in person. You're at home?"

"Yep."

"Okay, I'll be there in fifteen, give or take. Presuming my wife doesn't kill me first for leaving in the middle of supper."

I glanced at the time and realized it was still fairly early in the evening. What with telling Ricky everything, I hadn't even thought about the fact it was dinner time.

"Sandwiches," I said the second I hung up, heading to the kitchen.

Ricky got the idea and five minutes later we had what would pass for our dinner tonight. I'd just taken the first bite of ham and cheese when the doorbell rang. I went to answer, still chewing, and let Tom in.

"Now you know how I feel," Tom said dryly. "Got another one of these?" He tapped my beer on the coffee table as he sat in the chair across from the sofa.

I went to get him one and then we got down to business.