ONCE BOUND Page 9

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Sitting in the back seat again as Bill drove across the town of Allardt, Riley kept wondering …

  Just who is this Weston Bruder?

  Chief Dolby had expressed a definite aversion to the father of the first victim.

  She told herself that must be the reason for her own bad gut feeling about him.

  She pulled up the notes that Cullen had taken when he’d interviewed the Bruder family. They were informative enough as far as they went. The Bruders were a tight-knit, old-fashioned family.

  The father, Weston Bruder III, owned a local hardware store that had been founded by his great-grandfather. His wife, Bridget, was a stay-at-home mother. The twenty-five-year-old victim, Fern Bruder, had been living with her parents and two younger siblings before she’d been killed. Riley found that a little odd for a woman Fern’s age, but hardly anything to get really suspicious about. These days, lots of kids were slow to leave the nest.

  In fact, Riley didn’t see any red flags in Cullen’s notes. He apparently hadn’t noticed anything odd about the father or the family.

  All the same, her bad feeling grew as they arrived at the Bruders’ house and pulled into the driveway.

  There was nothing outwardly sinister about the place. It was an older ranch-style house that had been added to over the years, and the medium-sized yard was immaculately kept. Even so, Riley was struck by …

  What?

  She wasn’t quite sure.

  Perhaps it was how bland and characterless the place looked, even from outside. Absolutely nothing was out of place, which she thought made it look like some kind of facade or movie set, not a real house. Riley somehow found it hard to believe that anyone actually lived here, much less a family of five.

  When they knocked on the door, they were greeted by a rather plain, slender woman in her forties. She was wearing a simple, conservative, full-sleeved dress that modestly covered her legs well below the knees, almost down to her ankles.

  She looked at her visitors a bit nervously.

  “Are you the FBI folks?” she asked.

  Riley and her colleagues produced their badges and introduced themselves.

  Riley asked, “Are you Bridget Bruder?”

  The woman nodded and said, “Come on in. Weston is expecting you.”

  Riley and her colleagues walked on into the small living room. She was startled to see three people standing stiffly together, almost as if posing for a family portrait.

  Joining the group, Bridget said, “This is my husband, Weston. And our daughter Mia. And our son, Bobby.”

  Everyone was well dressed, with Mia looking like a miniature of her mother. From reading the files, Riley remembered that the girl was in her late teens. Weston was wearing a suit and tie, and so was his nine-year-old son. They had thin, pinched, expressionless faces. Only the young boy’s features showed any sign of sadness.

  As for the living room, it filled Riley with the same feeling as the outside of the house. The furniture was plain and ordinary, the carpet practical and perfectly clean, and everything seemed to be in its precise place. Decorations were few, but there were some religious paintings on the walls.

  The room chilled Riley a little. It reminded her of a living room inside a dollhouse. It felt impossible to imagine that anything was ever spilled or broken or messy here. Was it really possible for a family to live like that?

  Still standing stiffly, flanked by his family, Weston Bruder said, “I hope this is important. We missed our morning church service. If we don’t leave soon, we’ll be late for the next service.”

  The chill Riley was feeling suddenly deepened.

  The family seemed too cold to even be distraught about Fern’s death.

  Riley said, “We do have some questions. But first I want to say that we are terribly sorry for your loss.”

  The wife said in a solemn tone, “‘The Lord is near to those who are broken-hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.’”

  It took Riley a moment to register that the woman was quoting from the Bible. Before she could think of anything to say in reply, Jenn nodded and said …

  “‘Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.’”

  In near unison, all four family members said, “Amen.”

  Riley looked at Jenn with surprise.

  Was Jenn religious? She had never given Riley any reason to think so.

  Nevertheless, Riley realized that Jenn had managed to say exactly what needed to be said under these circumstances. The family suddenly seemed much more at ease, and Weston actually invited the three agents to sit down with them.

  Then he said, “We’re sad about Fern’s loss, of course. But she’d been straying away from us lately.”

  “How so?” Jenn asked.

  Riley decided to let Jenn take the lead asking questions. She seemed to know exactly what she was doing right now. And she certainly was showing an appropriate degree of empathy.

  Bridget said, “We’d hoped she would settle down and marry and raise a family right here in Allardt. This is a good town with good people. But she was restless. She longed for big-city life. She wanted to move to Chicago. She’d been going there a lot lately by train—looking for jobs, she said.”

  “What types of jobs?” Jenn asked.

  “Some sort of secretarial work, I suppose,” Bridget said. “She’d learned some office and computer skills at the local community college. But she never talked to us about it, because we didn’t approve.”

  With a frown, Bridget added, “Not that our feelings mattered. She was a grown woman. Her choices were up to her.”

  As Riley listened, she thought she was starting to understand certain things that were being left unsaid. Both Bridget and Weston had deep family roots right here in Allardt, perhaps all the way back to frontier days. To them, the city of Chicago must seem to be a sinful and dangerous place. Even though Fern’s murder had happened nearby, they somehow blamed her attraction to the city. It seemed almost as if it hadn’t come as a surprise to them that their daughter had died a violent death.

  Riley felt unsettled by another realization—that the family’s grief was blunted by their resentment that Fern wanted to leave them.

  Do they think she deserved this? Riley wondered.

  It was a shocking possibility.

  Jenn asked, “Are you aware of a similar murder that took place near Barnwell, Illinois, just yesterday?”

  A look of vague surprise crossed the family’s faces.

  “No, we hadn’t heard of that,” Weston said.

  Jenn said, “I won’t go into details, except to say that the victim was killed in almost exactly the same way as your daughter. Her name was Reese Fisher, and she lived in Barnwell. Is the name familiar to you?”

  Bridget and Weston and their daughter shook their heads no. The boy, Bobby, sat looking sadly at the floor.

  Jenn asked, “Are you sure she never mentioned anybody by that name?”

  Bridget Fisher shrugged and said, “None of us knew anybody in Barnwell. I don’t know how she could have known her. Unless she met her on one of her trips to Chicago.”

  Weston gave his wife a stern look. Riley sensed that she was saying more than he wanted her to.

  Are they hiding something? Riley wondered.

  In a slow, cautious voice, Jenn said, “Mr. and Mrs. Bruder, I have to ask you a routine question, and I’m sure you’ve been asked it already. But can you both account for your whereabouts at the time of your daughter’s murder?”

  Weston Bruder straightened up in his chair.

  He said, “I suppose that question is directed at me in particular.”

  “Not necessarily,” Jenn said.

  But of course, Riley knew that Bruder was exactly right. The woman and the daughter looked too physically slight to have carried out the murders, and the boy was out of the question.

  Bridget Bruder said, “Mia and Bobby and I were at home.”

 
“Wasn’t it a school day?” Jenn asked.

  “Yes,” Bridget said. “We home teach.”

  Jenn directed her gaze directly at Weston Bruder.

  In a tight voice, he said, “I was at home.”

  Riley felt a sharp tingling. She knew that her colleagues felt the same.

  Jenn said to the mother, “Can you confirm that your husband was at home?”

  The woman seemed to hesitate for a moment.

  “Yes,” she said.

  A short silence fell.

  Still speaking in a soft, sympathetic-sounding voice, Jenn said, “I believe we all know that that’s a lie.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Riley held her breath for a moment. How would the Bruders respond to Jenn’s pronouncement?

  She was sure that Jenn was right, that Bruder and his wife were both lying. She felt it keenly, and had no doubt that Bill did as well.

  Weston Bruder twisted his lips and said, “It’s not a lie.”

  “Explain, please,” Jenn said.

  Bruder said, “My home is wherever I find the Lord’s work to do.”

  Riley had to stop herself from asking what he meant by that. She reminded herself …

  Let Jenn handle this.

  The young agent seemed calm and unflappable.

  She said, “Mr. Bruder, what church do you and your family belong to?”

  “The Congregation of Ephesian Elders.”

  Jenn squinted slightly and said, “I’m not familiar with that denomination.”

  Bruder said, “That’s because we only have one church, right here in Allardt. And now, if you’ll allow me to explain …”

  He paused for a moment.

  “Aside from our minister, every male member of our church is a lay preacher. We are required to travel, spreading the gospel in other communities door to door.”

  Jenn nodded and said, “I believe Paul says something in the Book of Acts …”

  Bruder said, “‘I kept back nothing that was helpful, but proclaimed it to you, and taught you publicly and from house to house.’ Yes, Paul said that to the Ephesian Elders. We follow his example. I was in another town when Fern died, knocking on doors and talking to anyone who would listen.”

  “And where was that town?” Jenn said.

  Bruder’s face twitched.

  “I won’t tell you,” he said.

  For the first time, Riley noticed a hint of surprise on Jenn’s face.

  “Why not?” she asked.

  “We conduct our lay ministries in secret, so that—”

  Jenn interrupted sharply.

  “So that ‘your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.’ Yeah, I get it, Mr. Bruder. And I respect that. But we’re dealing with the murder of your daughter. I don’t understand why accounting for your whereabouts at the time of her death should be a problem.”

  Bruder’s face was reddening.

  “It is a problem,” he said. “And I have no intention of telling you any such thing. And I don’t believe you can compel me.”

  Bill said, “I’m pretty sure we can. And I don’t think you’d want to face an obstruction of justice charge. But what about the time of the other woman’s death—mid-morning yesterday? Where were you then?”

  “I was traveling and preaching,” Bruder said. “I’ll say no more than that.”

  Riley only half-listened as Bill and Jenn engaged in an increasingly heated exchange with Weston Bruder. She was watching young Bobby Bruder, who had been silent so far. He’d kept his head down and seemed much sadder than the rest of his family.

  Now she noticed that he’d taken something out of his pocket and was fingering it gently. She couldn’t see what it was, but it was red and shiny.

  She said, “Bobby, it looks like you’ve got something pretty there. May I have a look at it?”

  The ongoing argument suddenly stopped, and everybody looked at Riley and the boy.

  “Yes, ma’am,” the boy said.

  He got up from his chair and handed the object to Riley.

  It was a keychain with a charm shaped like a heart. The heart was made out of transparent red-dyed plastic and it had bits of glitter in it.

  A sparkly red plastic heart seemed quite out of place in this household.

  “Where did you get this?” Riley asked the boy.

  “Fern gave it to me,” he said. “Just last week. A man gave it to her on the train.”

  Riley’s head buzzed. Everyone else in the room remained quiet.

  She said, “Did she say who gave it to her?”

  The boy nodded.

  “Red gave it to her,” he said.

  The father gasped aloud.

  “Red! Red Messer!” he said.

  Riley asked Weston Bruder, “Do you know him?”

  “Of course I know him. He used to be in our congregation. He’s a wicked man. And he—”

  He took hold of his son’s shoulders and shook him.

  “Why didn’t you show this to me?” he said. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I was afraid you’d be mad at me,” the boy said.

  Weston Bruder stood with his mouth hanging open. He looked like he was about to faint.

  “Oh, dear God, he killed our daughter!”

  He sat slowly down and said to Riley and her colleagues, “I’ll tell you where I was—both yesterday and when Fern was killed. I’ll give you names of the people I spoke to, and you can check them out. Whatever you need to eliminate me as a suspect. But you must arrest this man. I know that he killed her.”

  For the first time since she’d been here, Riley was impressed by the man’s urgent sincerity.

  “Why are you so sure?” she asked him.

  “It must be him! He’s a sinful, godless man. He hates me, he hates all of us, and he hates our church. He left our congregation years ago. But he still lives right here in Allardt. I can tell you where he lives.”

  Bill and Jenn went right to work taking information from Weston Bruder—where he’d been at the times of the murders and Red Messer’s address.

  Holding the keychain, Riley spoke softly to the boy.

  “I’m glad you showed this to me,” she said. “I think it might be a great help. May I take it for a little while?”

  The boy nodded. Then he whispered, “Just keep it, please. Don’t ever bring it back here.”

  Of course, Riley realized, the red plastic heart would never be allowed in this house again. The poor boy was feeling guilty for having brought it here.

  “Thank you, Bobby,” Riley said. “This could be the most helpful clue we’ve found so far.”

  At that, he managed a weak smile. Riley smiled back and put the trinket in her purse.

  She and her colleagues left the house and got back into their car. With Bill again behind the wheel, Jenn sitting beside him, and Riley in back, they followed GPS directions to the address they’d been given.

  As they drove, Riley was bursting with curiosity about how Jenn had dealt with Weston Bruder just now.

  She tapped Jenn on the shoulder and said, “How did you—?”

  “Know all those Bible quotes?” Jenn replied. “Well, it’s not that I’m especially religious. It’s just that …”

  She glanced toward Bill warily, then back at Riley.

  Riley immediately got the message—that this had something to do with things in Jenn’s background that she couldn’t talk openly about right now.

  She said, “I was encouraged to read a lot when I was a kid. I found out that knowledge of the Bible could be … useful.”

  Riley felt a little queasy. She knew that Jenn had been tutored in the ways of criminality—and of course, a con artist could easily make use of the Bible to manipulate certain kinds of unwitting victims.

  Jenn obviously had a vast range of knowledge, far more than Riley had realized. Could she successfully channel that knowledge into enforcing the law rather than breaking it?

  Riley could only hope so.

&nb
sp; At that moment Riley’s cell phone buzzed. She was dismayed to see that it was a text from Bull Cullen.

  I’m in Chicago. You need to be in on a meeting about this case. At the RP office in Union Station. Take the next train you can get.

  Riley suppressed a sigh.

  Chicago seemed like an unnecessary detour, and Bull Cullen was the last person she wanted to talk to right now.

  She pulled up the train schedule on her cell phone and saw that the next train for Chicago left Allardt in about an hour.

  I guess we can make it, she thought.

  But what she really hoped was that she and her team would be making an arrest between now and then. Then that Chicago meeting might be completely unnecessary.

  As they pulled up in front of a rather plain but decent-looking brick apartment building, she texted back.

  OK. What abt our car?

  The reply came through quickly.

  I’ll have it picked up at Allardt train station.

  She texted another “OK,” then put her phone away.

  Bill said, “Apartment A. Probably right on the first floor.”

  Jenn asked, “Do you think this is it? Do you think this is our guy?”

  “I don’t know,” Riley said. “But check your weapon. You might be needing it.”

  She took out her own Glock and clicked the cartridge out and back in again, assuring herself that it was in good working order.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Riley and her colleagues moved quietly into the apartment building. Fortunately, none of the residents were out and about, so they didn’t have to worry about clearing away unwary civilians. They stopped just outside the door to Apartment A and exchanged uneasy glances.

  Like Riley, Bill and Jenn had their hands near their weapons.

  Riley knocked sharply on the door. They waited a few moments, but there was no reply.

  She hesitated. Of course it was possible that Red Messer wasn’t home.