Page 21 of The Murder Between Us
“I’ll have to check.”
“Frank checking on Kimberly, for whatever reason, shattered the killer’s control of the scene. He lashed out. That’s why Frank’s death was so much more violent than Kimberly’s or the other girls’.”
“And the same for Bart Olson?”
Cole nodded. “Most likely. I’ll need to see the scene to know for sure.”
“Are you ready to head there now?”
He spun one more time, taking in bedroom. What had called Frank to the bedroom? There was something he was missing. What had Frank heard? What had the killer covered up? Was it, as Noah suggested, parental intuition? Even through booze and cold medication?
The Olson home was much like the Fosters’. Rural farmland spread in all directions, cornfields and horizons the only things in sight. The house sported a mishmash of fixer-upper projects Bart had started and partially completed.
“The killer likes his privacy,” Cole said, walking around the Olson property. “Both of these locations are isolated. He chose dark, private, secluded places before, but not like this. Here, he can dominate his victims completely. Take control away from them and take his time. What’s more powerful than taking control away from someone inside their own house?”
Noah shook his head.
The bloodstains were still fresh, tacky in some places. The carpet in the living room was still wet. Crime scene markers littered the floors and walls.
“Bart had come off shift at five a.m. He was home by five thirty. He’d told the dispatcher he’d take a nap and be back in before noon.”
“He was the sheriff of Boone County. Why was he on the graveyard shift?”
Noah made a face, something between a grimace and a scowl. “He was filling in for one of his deputies. His deputy’s wife went into labor the day before, and he was still at the hospital with her. Bart took his shifts for two days.”
“So Bart Olson was a good guy.”
“One of the best. He moved out here to take over Boone County. He was the chief deputy sheriff of Linn County before coming out here. Cedar Rapids,” he said, when Cole frowned.
“He traded in the big city for the fields?” Well, what passed for a city in Iowa.
“He wanted the quiet life, he said.”
Cole stared at Bart Olson’s blood on the living room rug. “All of the Coed Killer’s victims were murdered overnight. Between midnight and six a.m., right?”
“That’s right.”
“Where was Jessie’s mom? Jessie was alone in the house.”
“Heather Olson. She’s a nurse. She works downtown. Night shifts. She was building seniority before requesting a transfer.”
“Where is she now?”
“With family back home in Kansas. She couldn’t stay here. And she isn’t a suspect. We know where she is if we need to talk to her.”
“Who knew Jessie was home alone that night, then? Who knew her dad was filling in for someone?”
Noah’s jaw clenched. “The killer surveils his victims beforehand. He knows their routines. Where they walk across campus, what time they go to bed or get off work. When they will be alone. The killer had to have been watching Jessie for days and learning everything about her. Even Heather said she’d felt like someone was watching the house. She said Bart mentioned it, too. They thought maybe someone was up to no good in the field. Heather and Bart must have been feeling the killer’s surveillance, and the killer must have seen Bart go to work those two nights. He saw his opportunity.”
“The killer is methodical. He leaves nothing to chance or opportunity. Control is what he’s all about. I don’t see him taking a chance on killing Jessie after seeing Bart drive off. What if he was just going to grab milk?”
“In his uniform? In his duty truck?” Noah shook his head. “Anyhow, I didn’t say it was left to chance. Deputy Lee posted on Facebook about his daughter’s birth, and he thanked Sheriff Olson for covering for him. He tagged the sheriff’s department and Bart personally.”
“That sounds—”
“It sounds like Iowa. This is the kind of place where the sheriffs and the police departments tag citizens in photos at football games and throw barbecues and pool parties over the summer for kids and their families. Last year, the sheriff of Madison County tagged people on Facebook to remind them to pay their traffic tickets. Everyone he tagged did, after some ribbing back and forth.”
Cole squinted. “Madison County. Like,The Bridges of Madison County?”
