Page 132 of The Killing Plains

Colly shrugged. The most obvious was the body itself. There was evidence linking Denny’s death to Adam Parker’s. But Denny was found naked, and Adam fully clothed. That was odd—a breakin the pattern. Serial killers were usually consistent about those types of details.

That wasn’t all. There was an orthopedic shoe insert in Denny’s backpack, though no one in his family had foot problems. And he was seen on the day he died wearing a red ballcap that Jolene swore wasn’t his. “We found that cap at the fireworks stand out by Digby’s Automotive, but it was stolen from the site before we could have it analyzed,” Colly said. “That was the first thing that should’ve pointed me to Brenda. When we found it, we’d just come from the counseling center.”

“She followed you?”

Colly nodded. “She hid in the salvage yard next to Digby’s. We dismissed that idea because the place is patrolled by guard dogs, and the Digby’s employees didn’t hear any barking. But Brenda’s a jogger, and she runs that way a lot. All the dogs in the area know her.”

“What was the ballcap doing at the fireworks stand?”

“I’m coming to that.”

There were other signs she’d missed, Colly said. Denny’s therapy appointment got moved from Thursday to Friday the week of his death. Brenda said Jolene changed it. But Jolene said Brenda requested the switch. “I figured one of them just misremembered. It didn’t seem relevant.”

“But it was?”

Colly nodded. “Jolene always drove Denny to his Thursday appointments. But on Fridays—”

“She’d been picking up extra day shifts.”

“Right. Somehow, Brenda knew Denny would have to ride his bike to therapy on Friday. He probably told her himself.”

“So what?” Jace leaned forward, nervously bouncing his knees.

“Her plan wouldn’t have worked otherwise,” Colly said. “Jolene gave us other clues, too. She mentioned that Denny sunburned quickly, and that he was supposed to return some library booksafter his appointment with Brenda. But the books were still in his backpack when we found it. And when his body was discovered, his skin wasn’t burned the way you’d expect if he’d ridden his bike all the way to the stock pond.”

“Meaning?”

Colly met Jace’s eyes. “Denny never left the counseling center.”

Jace stared. “What?”

“Brenda’s already confessed—she killed Denny inside her office.”

“The hell she did. His Little League coach saw Denny riding his bike past Digby’s.”

“Sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself.” Colly paused. “You have to understand—Brenda’s got an obsessive-compulsive streak. She’s a planner.” Once she’d decided to kill Denny, she’d mapped out every detail in advance. She didn’t want to run the risk of going to prison and losing her kids.

Opportunity was the easy part. Brenda spent a court-mandated hour alone with Denny each week. As long as she killed him quietly, her risk of being caught in the act was almost zero. But there was a catch—when someone walked into a therapist’s office, they were expected to walk out again. And if they didn’t, the therapist would be the only possible suspect. Brenda considered several ideas, from giving Denny a slow-acting poison to injecting him with a hypodermic full of air to create a pseudo-heart attack. But she dismissed them as too risky.

Then one day, Denny commented that he and she were the same height, which gave Brenda an idea. She liked going to thrift stores, and Iris had recently given her several sacks of old clothes to take to the donation center. Some belonged to Iris herself, and some to her housekeeper, Nadine. Brenda went through those sacks and scavenged an old-lady dress, shoes, hat, and a gigantic purse.

“Nadine has bad feet,” Colly added. “I noticed she was limping when I was at the ranch my first night here. I found the shoe insert in Denny’s backpack the same day. And Iris gave Brenda more sacks of old clothes right in front of me. I should’ve connected the dots.” Colly shook her head. “Anyway, Brenda chose that Friday for the murder because Lowell would have the kids. When Denny arrived for his appointment, she gave him a Xanax-laced coke. And when he fell asleep, she strangled him with an extension cord. Very quiet. No cleanup.”

“Christ Almighty.” Jace looked sick.

“Sorry, I’m used to talking to cops.” Colly waited while he collected himself. Finally, he nodded for her to continue.

“Brenda has this huge suitcase full of play-therapy toys in her office closet. I’ve seen it myself,” Colly said slowly, watching Jace. “She undressed Denny and put him in it. That’s another clue I missed, at first. Carmen mentioned she found toys all over Brenda’s office that night when she came to clean. She said the closet in Brenda’s office was locked, so she couldn’t get the suitcase out to put them away. The Rangers didn’t think anything of it, but I should’ve. Brenda’s super-tidy—she’d never leave toys out like that, unless she had no choice.”

After stowing the body, Brenda emptied Denny’s backpack and put the old-lady outfit and purse inside. Then she put on Denny’s clothes, plus a red ballcap she’d brought to hide her face—she’d cut her hair short the week before, so she’d look more boyish. Carrying the backpack and wearing her own running shoes, she rushed past Pearl, the office manager, and out the front door of the counseling center a little after one p.m. She’d already told Pearl not to disturb her because she’d be doing paperwork in her office until her two o’clock appointment. Pearl went off for a late lunch. Later, she swore to the Rangers that she’d seen Denny ride away on his bikeand that Brenda never left the building. CCTV footage backed up her story.

Brenda didn’t have time to go far—she had to be back before two. She rode north on the Old Ranch Way, passing as many security cameras as she could. “She didn’t anticipate Denny’s coach seeing her,” Colly said. “Her only option was to blow past him and hope he didn’t follow.”

She hid the bike in the tall weeds behind the fireworks stand, then put on the old-lady clothes, except for the shoes—she had to run to get back in time. She left the ballcap there, but she stuffed Denny’s backpack and the rest of his clothes into the purse and took them with her.

“She couldn’t risk going back the way she’d come, in case Tom Gunnell spotted her,” Colly said. “So she cut across the fields onto Salton Road. At least one farmer saw her from a distance but thought she was a local, since the farm dogs didn’t bark—but like I said, they all knew her.”

“Didn’t folks think it was strange for an old woman to be running?”

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