Page 16 of Dead Man's Wish
“In ways, I can see it, but mostly, I think I’d have an aversion to wherever he would’ve been housed. I don’t think I could’ve handled catching a glimpse of him as we walked to visitations. The thought of him ever being able to see me again is unnerving,” she answered, looking over at me finally. There was a softness in her gaze. Over time, I learned that softness was just for me to see.
“More confident since he’s dead?” She shook her head.
“More confident because after him, I took extra steps to protect myself.” She looked into the visor mirror and took a deep breath to calm herself and put that armor back in place. Conversation was over, and Business Bex was here again.
Bex went through hell so she made sure that, at the very least, she would survive until someone showed up. When I asked why she was so certain she’d be saved, her only answer was an eyebrow raise and gesturing to me. She wasn’t wrong. So long as I was able, I’d find her no matter the cost.
Processing was a smooth practice; we’d been through it enough times to anticipate the questions and knew what they needed from us. The officer escorting us carried on a conversation with Bex, or tried to at least, but I didn’t tune in as I watched our surroundings. Bex drew attention, not her fault, but where it made me most uncomfortable was while we were in a maximum-security prison.
“Okay, the tour concludes here,” Officer Bradshaw joked as he stopped us outside of an interrogation room. The humor only registered with him as we looked on with blank faces.
“Is he in there?” she asked. I looked over her head and through the small window, seeing he was.
“Yes, ma’am. His feet are chained to the floor, but his hands are only cuffed together with a lead on his waist.” Officer Bradshaw adjusted his utility belt, but he puffed out his chest while he did it. I rolled my eyes on the inside at the false bravado and macho bullshit. If I had to guess, the man never left that nice desk and plexiglass room before, or at least not very often. Pretty woman equals his stupid desire to act on his urges. It was a pattern I recognized but never cared to correct them on.
“So, he’s mobile?” I asked. Officer Bradshaw startled at my question, reminding him I was still here in a professional way.
“He’s been labeled nonviolent, and during his stay, he hasn’t shown any aggression toward the other inmates or officers.” Bradshaw crossed his arms; he was defensive.
“Have you pushed the right buttons?” Bexley asked, but she was looking at her hands. She picked at a few areas around her manicured nails before continuing, “Even the most well-tempered individuals have a threshold before they reach a level of violence. Do you understand why my husband and I are here, Officer Bradshaw?”
She waved back to me; he looked up and shook his head.
“Detective Martin isn’t convinced that man is a passive, unlucky guy. A case he was following leads on for years turned cold when Carter Boltree was locked up on unrelated charges. His superiors continued to brush him off as a suspect because they’re sure he couldn’t hurt a fly. Martin is convinced—Jaiden, what did he say?” Bex looked up over her shoulder and melted my core with the energy swirling in her eyes.
“He saw the devil flicker in his gaze.” It was meant for Bradshaw to understand, but I could only look at her. Being able to work with Bex,watchher work, was the greatest gift.
“You think he’s violent?” The officer looked between us and the door with hesitancy.
“I’ve never met him,” she said in a chipper, matter-of-fact voice. “Tell me, Bradshaw, do you know how the Son of Sam was caught?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Parking ticket. What about Bundy, officer?”
“Again, no, ma’am.”
“He stole a car, and when the plates came back as stolen, he handed them a fake ID. Are these the crimes they were known to commit? No, their horrific offenses went on until trivial, silly things exposed them as the monsters they were comfortable being in the dark. Just because Boltree is in prison for one thing doesn’t mean another serious investigation should cease.” She adjusted her blouse before putting her hand on the handle.
“Well, then we’ll have a guard outside in case.”
“That’s why I’m here, Bradshaw.” With that, Bex opened the door, and we stepped inside.
Carter Boltree didn’t move. He didn’t turn at the sound of her heels against the concrete. He didn’t even quirk his head when Bex walked around his table to sit across from him. The unnatural stillness churned my stomach, and I knew she was reading it. It was overcompensation.
He knew the predator had become the prey.
Bexley Wells
I watched him. I’d never encountered someone like him, but no two serial killers were alike. Jaiden couldn’t conceal all the contempt on his face, and I was happy he was against the back wall. Carter didn’t indicate he knew Jai was there.
“Can you tell me your name?” I asked in a polite tone. I didn’t have a notebook, since the pen could be jammed into soft tissue, but I did have a voice recorder. I used it mostly for my records, as the prison would send the taped interview to Detective Martin.
“Wouldn’t you know that since you had to come here?”Interesting response. It wasn’t quite dismissive, and it wasn’t strong enough in attitude and emotion to convey a sense of superiority over women.Just the right sense of cordial interaction.
“And if you’re the wrong prisoner?”
“Carter Boltree,” he offered freely. A flicker in his eyebrows started the expression of contempt, but it wasn’t enough.
