Page 53 of Red Snow
NOTHING ELSE MATTERSright now. Not the bullshit between me and Danielle, or the confusion I’m feeling about Stacey, or the friends with benefits thing I have going on with Brandi. None of that matters right now, because today is the day we catch Jeffrey Lee Chapman. Eagle River PD gave us the nod to expand our investigation into their jurisdiction, and now it’s on. Today is the day we find evidence that will allow us to arrest and prosecute the Snowman Killer. I know it. I feel it in my bones as Marcus and I ride in the back of the small convoy heading towards the outer edges of Eagle River, where Jeffrey’s trailer sits, unaware of our arrival.
We’re coming for him. We’re about to take down the bastard who cut the head off of a first grade teacher and placed it in front of the school she taught at. We’re on our way to setup a case against the bastard who beheaded a stripper and left her in the parking lot of her job. We’re about to take him down, and the closer we get to the trailer, the more excited I become about it all.
From the moment I saw him, I just had a feeling he was the guy. There was just something in his face that told me it was him, while he sat there trying his best to convince us he was normal. I could tell, because it seemed like he was trying too hard to keep from showing his true colors. He was too calculated and uncomfortable, and when we pressed him, he slipped a bit and asked us to leave. Bad guys don’t know that that’s the giveaway. An innocent man may get upset, they may even get pissed off, but once you ask the cops to leave after a certain question or statement, we zero in. Once you show us that you don’t want to talk about a certain thing, you become the target. I may not be able to keep a relationship, and I may bounce from woman to woman like it’s some sort of competition, and I may even fuck and drink like there’s no tomorrow, but if you’re a criminal and on my radar, you’re the one who’s fucked. Jeffrey Lee Chapman is fucked.
We turn onto his road and I see the trailer in the distance. It took us all day to get the damn search warrant from Judge Bartow, and we had to spend nearly the whole day explaining to him why we needed a search warrant on this unknown guy, but we got what we wanted in the end. It’s all about to be worth it.
We park the cruiser and step out as the uniformed officers get out of their cars with their lights illuminating everything around us, telling Jeffrey’s few neighbors that something is going on. It’s six o’clock in the evening, so we know he’s here, and before we can get even get to the door, Jeffrey opens it and meets us outside, still wearing his thick flannel and jeans from work.
“What the hell is this?” he asks, doing his best to stay composed. He knows he can’t get too upset or we’ll see the true craziness in him, so he’s taught himself to keep it under control. I can spot a psychopath, and I’m telling you, Jeffrey Lee Chapman is a fucking psychopath.
“You wanted us to come back with a warrant, Mr. Chapman,” Marcus says as he hands the signed document over to Jeffrey. “This piece of paper, signed by Judge Elijah Bartow, gives us permission and the authority to search your premises thoroughly for evidence that may link you to the murders of Brenda Cox and Britney Cruz. So, we need you to vacate the premises immediately so we can carry out this warrant.”
I stand behind Marcus and watch Jeffrey’s face shift from ready to explode to a peaceful calm. He almost starts to look confident as he smiles at Marcus and gives the search warrant back to him.
“Okay. Do what you’ve got to do, Detective,” he says, and it pisses me right off. How could he be so calm about this? Why would he be?
“It might take us a while to execute this warrant, Mr. Chapman,” Marcus goes on while I keep watching Jeffrey without saying anything. “You may want to go make yourself comfortable for a while.”
“No, I think I’ll stay right here,” Jeffrey replies, turning around and watching as the uniformed officers make their way inside his home. “This is my house, and the second your people are done finding absolutely nothing, I’ll accept your apology and go have myself a drink inside.”
“Suit yourself,” Marcus says before turning to me. “I’m gonna go in and help out.”
“I’ll hang here with our guest,” I tell him, eyeballing Jeffrey as I speak. Marcus throws me a look of caution before nodding and making his way inside.
Jeffrey leans his butt against our cruiser and crosses his arms, watching the search take place with a look of arrogance on his face. He’s completely collected and it’s a little unsettling, honestly. I clear my throat and mimic his position on the car.
“So you’re gonna sit here and watch this happen, huh?” I ask him.
Jeffrey looks straight forward and doesn’t even blink. “Yep. I’m not leaving.”
“What if takes until tomorrow?”
“Then you and I will be standing next to each other until tomorrow. I’m not leaving, Detective. What’s your name again?”
“Detective Granger,” I answer.
“That’s right. You’re the angrier of the two. The hothead. The bad cop.”
“Is that right? Have you being doing your homework on us, Jeffrey?” I ask, feeling confident that he just slipped again. Has he been reading up on me? Why would an innocent man feel the need to do that?
“I didn’t say that,” he answers. Smart. “I’m just basing that assessment on our last encounter. Your partner tries to be polite, and if that doesn’t work, you get all up in arms like everything offends you. You’re the one who’s supposed to scare the perp into doing what you want.”
“Well done, Jeffrey. Good observation. Are you scared now?”
Jeffrey turns to me and looks me straight in the eyes. “No, I’m not.”
There’s something in his eyes that lets me know he isn’t kidding. He isn’t standing here trying to be intimidating or throw me off. He’s being completely honest, and something in those eyes tells me he isn’t the kind of person who’s afraid of much. He’s cold. He doesn’t feel fear. I’m not sure he feels anything, and I see that in his blue eyes. But what Jeffrey doesn’t know, is that those cold, blue eyes don’t fucking scare me.
“Maybe you should be, Jeffrey,” I respond, staring right back at him. It’s like a contest now, and whoever looks away first loses. It feels like ten minutes goes by and we’re still glaring at each other. Slowly but surely, Jeffrey’s mouth shifts into a slick smile.
“You’re a good one,” he says before finally breaking eye contact and looking back at the house. “My mother would’ve liked you.”
“Well thank you. I appreciate that. Where is your mother, by the way? I was under the impression you two lived together. I thought it was a little strange, a guy in his mid-thirties still living with his mother, but to each his own.”
Jeffrey’s head snaps in my direction, and the look in his eye has completely changed. There’s fire in them now, and it’s the first glance I’ve gotten of the real Jeffrey Lee Chapman.
“Don’t ever mention my mother,” he snips, and I can hear the bite in his voice.
