If She Fled. Блейк Пирс
think we’ve got a killer that has a certain type of victim he’s targeting. Both Karen Hopkins and Marjorie Hix were in their mid-fifties, at home alone. The assumption is that the killer knew the husbands would not be there. And I also assume he had studied the houses, as there was no sign of forced entry. So…our killer has a definite type, and he does his homework. Other than that…I’m at a dead end.”
“I can try to add to that,” Bannerman said. “There were no signs of struggle, either. So the killer knew how to get into the houses without tripping security and then was also able to strike without the victims knowing. It makes me think the victims invited the killer in. That they knew him.”
Kate had assumed the same thing but decided to let Bannerman get it all out. She rather enjoyed hearing him speak. His older age made him sound very wise and she greatly appreciated his experience. She usually felt as if working closely with anyone from the local police force could be a hindrance, but she was already starting to like Bannerman.
As she nodded her agreement, DeMarco ended her call. “I got confirmation that Hexco Internet did indeed send a tech out to the Hopkins residence on Tuesday. The woman I spoke with said there had been reports of spotty internet service all over the neighborhood around that time, starting Monday night. There were about a dozen other similar calls for maintenance that day.”
“Well, it’s a huge jump to make, but being a tech for an internet company during interrupted service would grant pretty easy access into just about any house,” Kate said.
“Well, it’s not too big of a jump, actually,” DeMarco said. “I also asked if there had been any Hexco techs sent to the Hix residence lately. Turns out, there was a request put in by Joseph Hix two weeks ago. And according to their records, the same technician replied to both calls.”
“Sounds like a suspect to me,” Kate said.
“I agree,” Bannerman said. “You should know, though, that Hexco is a relatively new provider around Frankfield. A small company. I’d be surprised if they have more than three or four technicians. It might not be such a huge deal that the same tech was at both addresses.”
“Still, I’d like to talk to that tech,” Kate said. “Did you get a name?”
“I did. The operator I spoke to has sent out a page for him to call me right away.”
“In the meantime, I’d like to visit the Hix residence,” Kate said. “I know the reports indicate that the scene was essentially clean, but I’d like to see it for myself.”
“I’ve got the key in the case files,” Bannerman said. “You can—”
He was interrupted by the ringing of DeMarco’s phone. She answered it right away and when Kate heard her formally introduce herself, Kate knew it was the Hexco tech. Kate listened in, so she already knew the details before DeMarco spoke them out loud.
“We’re meeting with him in fifteen minutes,” DeMarco said. “He seems very willing to meet, but sounded a little scared, too.”
As Kate opened the door, Bannerman got to his feet. “Need anything from me?”
Kate thought about it and then, with a bit of hope in her voice, said: “Maybe just get a room ready for interrogation.”
The technician’s name was Mike Wallace, a twenty-six-year-old who looked very nervous when Kate and DeMarco met him at the little coffee shop three miles away from the Frankfield PD. He looked back and forth between the agents in a way that reminded Kate of those weird geckos that could move their eyes in such a way as to look in two directions at once.
He had a tablet with him, covered with a scarred leather case. The Hexco logo stood out in embossed trim on the front of it.
“Mike, for now this is just standard procedure and you have absolutely nothing to worry about,” Kate said. “At present, it seems that you are just having a bit of bad luck and circumstance.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, in the course of the last two weeks, you have been assigned to homes where two women have been killed. The most recent was this past Tuesday.”
“I visited a lot of houses Tuesday. There was a pretty bad service interruption in two different neighborhoods.”
“You have your service calls on that tablet, right?” DeMarco asked, nodding to the device he carried.
“Yes, I do.”
“Can you pull up the entry for the Hopkins residence on Tuesday?”
“Sure,” he said. He tapped a few different places, scrolled a bit, and then scanned the page with his finger. As he did, Kate noted a slight tremor in his hands. He was clearly nervous; the trick was to find out if he was scared because he was hiding something or if he was simply nervous being in the presence of a pair of FBI agents.
“Right here,” he said, sliding the tablet over to them. “I arrived at ten forty-two a.m. and was gone at ten forty-six.”
“That seems very fast,” Kate said. “I don’t think I’ve ever had any sort of utility fixed so fast. What was the nature of the outage?”
“There was a bigger one out closer to Chicago. In order to fix that one, we had to downgrade some service in other places. Frankfield never quite came back up the way it was supposed to. It was an easy fix, though. For all but one of those calls on Tuesday morning, it was just a manual reset at the install boxes at each house.”
“And it only took five minutes?” Kate asked.
“Really, each reset only takes about two or three minutes. For each stop, Hexco requires me to start the clock on each visit. Once the timer starts, I have to log the visit and then walk to the box. The reset itself only takes about two minutes. After the reset, I hook a test device up to the box to make sure it’s working. That takes about thirty seconds. Then I walk back to the truck, enter in a status report, and log out.”
He was fidgeting and still trembling the slightest bit. He seemed to notice this and attempted to stop the tremors in his hands by clasping them together on the tabletop.
“So all of that was done at the Hopkins residence between ten forty-two and ten forty-six?” Kate asked.
“Yes ma’am.”
“Did you interact with Karen Hopkins during the visit?”
“No. Hexco sent out a mass text and email notice that techs were being sent out. Whenever that’s done and the fix doesn’t get billed to the customer, we aren’t required to meet with them to get a signature. I doubt she even knew I was there.”
It all checked out, but Kate did the math in her head. Four minutes was more than enough time to get into the house and strangle someone. Of course, the fact that his report showed where the reset and test had been conducted and logged in knocked that four minutes down to practically nothing.
“Can you find an entry for the Hix residence two weeks ago?” Kate asked.
“Yeah. You got a first name?”
“Marjorie, or maybe her husband, Joseph,” DeMarco said.
Mike went through his routine again and had the results within twenty seconds. Again, he slid the tablet over to them. As they scanned the information, he did his best to explain it.
“Right there…exactly two weeks ago. This was a response to a complaint about the speed of their service. They’d called to get their speed and data upgraded but it never took. It sometimes happens when done remotely, on the phone. I went over there and did it myself.”
“According to this, it took about fifteen minutes,” Kate said.
“Yeah, the little device I use to test the strength of the signal was giving me a hard time. If you want, I can show you the request I put in to Hexco to get a new one.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Kate said. “I see here that Marjorie Hix signed for the service. Did you go inside her house?”
“Yes