One Last Step by Sarah Sutton (free e books to read TXT) 📗

a sudden, she realized Warren was staring at her—his eyes moving from her to Kenny, trying to see what entranced her so.

“He seems scared to me,” she said before a pause, but in her mind she had doubts that he even understood why he was really here.

Warren leaned closer, studying the man in front of them.

“He seems nervous,” she added. “I would’ve thought the killer would be too confident for that.”

It went against everything she knew about serial killers. They were confident in their ability to get away with murder—a false empowerment. Of course every killer was different, but she had a feeling this killer, the one they were looking for, was emboldened beyond comprehension. He had taken everything at each scene, yet left only what he wanted to leave. He was manipulating, a game maker. He thought he was too good to get caught, otherwise, why leave anything at all?

“I don’t think the killer would show a nervousness like that,” she added.

It was the same nervousness and confusion he showed when they questioned him at his door, when his chest broke out in hives.

Warren still stared off through the one-way mirror and nodded his head.

“He certainly doesn’t fit a textbook definition,” Warren replied and Tara knew he felt it too. “But sometimes you can’t be too sure.” He then turned to Tara. “That’s how killers like Ted Bundy go undetected for so long.”

A silence fell around them. He was right—you could never be too sure—and only evidence would be able to rule him out.

Suddenly, Tara realized why Warren probably came into the room in the first place.

“Did forensics give us results yet?” she asked.

Tara’s words sent a jolt through Warren and he quickly lifted his eyes away from the Kenny.

“Not yet. They should have results soon. In the meantime, we should question him now,” he added as his eyes moved again to the suspect.

***

Tara and Warren entered the interrogation room and upon entry, Kenny McNamara immediately lifted up his head to reveal his furrowed brow and red, blotchy skin.

Tara walked over to the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down across from him. Warren took a seat next to her. She held a folder in her hand and as she placed it down onto the table, she could see Kenny flinch slightly at the sight of it. He darted his eyes from the folder to Tara and met Tara’s eyes briefly until he cowered and quickly shifted his eyes back down to the ground.

“You want to start by telling us why you ran?” she asked.

“I…uh…” He kept his head down, afraid to look up, and Tara could see the red rash begin to spread further out on his chest like a disease spreading through his body. “I’m not really sure why I did that.” He looked up at his own words. “It was stupid…so fucking stupid.” He gritted his teeth as he spit out the words and shook his head. “How much trouble am I in?”

“How much trouble are you in?” Tara repeated with surprise. It was an odd question for him to ask. If he were fully aware that he could be charged with multiple murders, he would know to assume the worst.

He just stared at her and when he didn’t respond she continued. “Whose blood was on your kitchen floor?”

“Whose blood?” he replied with surprise. “I told you, I was hunting.”

“And what were you hunting exactly?”

“Uh…” The overhead light shined down on him, drawing attention to the film of sweat glistening on his forehead. “It was a deer.”

“Is that the truth?” Tara questioned. “Because we are going to know either way very soon when the lab results come back.”

“Uh…” A bead of sweat dripped down the side of his face and he raised his shoulder, wiping his cheek into it. “All right, fine, fine…” he burst. “I hunted illegally.” He suddenly grew silent, afraid to go on, but then decided to speak again. “It was a mountain lion, all right?” He rammed his cuffs into the back of the chair. “Shit!” he yelled. “I’m in deep shit, aren’t I?”

“What were you doing hunting mountain lions?”

“I stuff them and sell them,” he said.

Tara shared a glance with Warren. She had a feeling he was telling the truth.

“Can you tell us what happened when you got in that altercation on the trail?”

“Not this shit again,” he muttered before taking a deep breath. “Just some crazy animal activists. I was hunting and they came up behind me like a bunch of idiots and starting telling me why I was morally wrong.” He rolled his eyes at the thought. “They even handed me a bunch of pamphlets and refused to leave. We got in an argument, one thing led to another, and I socked this chick’s boyfriend and she called the cops.” He shrugged. “I just wanted to be left alone.”

Tara knew Kenny McNamara was clearly violent, but he didn’t sound like someone who would have intent to kill. But she still needed to see if the victims looked familiar to him, so she pulled out their pictures from the envelope and placed them in front of him. He stared wide-eyed at them.

“Where were you last night?” Tara questioned.

He looked down at the pictures and then up at her. “What the hell is all this about exactly?”

“Please answer the question.”

“I was home all day yesterday. Why?”

“Do any of these people look familiar to you?” Tara asked.

He took one look at the pictures and shook his head and his face suddenly morphed into confusion.

“Wait, did you think the blood in my kitchen was a person’s?” He let out a nervous laugh at the absurdity.

“These individuals went missing along the Appalachian Trail. The same area where you often hunt,” Tara replied.

“Whoa, whoa! I may hunt illegally, but I’ve never killed a person before.”

His surprise felt sincere and Tara noticed that the rash on his chest had now begun to subside. He’s telling the truth, she thought to herself. She picked