“This is an interesting theory on Sheriff Michaelson.” I made note of everything. “I had no idea Reverend Thompson’s wife was his sister.”
“Yes, and they are all black.”
The Deacon chuckled.
Mrs. Mabel smirked. “They all black folks, and hate black people so much because they’re scared the blacks going to point them out.”
Everyone started laughing some more.
“They are.” Mrs. Mabel ignored the laughter. “Now those Thompsons and Michaelsons are probably a quarter or half black by now. That’s why their men are always sneaking around to the black areas and messing with black women. Deep inside, their souls know who they are, even if their minds have no idea.”
“Mrs. Mabel, you need to stop with that old theory.” Aunt Judy laughed.
“It’s not a theory. It’s the truth. People around here don’t even know the town’s history.”
“Wow.” Haven blinked.
Mrs. Mabel laughed. “See, Haven. This Alexander over here whiter than Sean. This actually your first white boy. Sean is black.”
“Mrs. Mabel, that’s enough.” Aunt Judy laughed.
“I’m going to let you all stay ignorant.” Mrs. Mabel waved them away.
Vernon whispered to Pastor Miller, slowly rose with his plate, and then left. Haven followed him with her gaze. I hoped he wouldn’t leave the house tonight. But even if he did, Stein, Richards, and several agents were outside waiting to trail him.
The table’s conversation shifted to a merrier tune. By the end of dinner, several people yelled out hallelujah. Most of the men rushed off to the football game.
I took off my jacket, rolled up my sleeves, and volunteered to help the women wash the dishes. That brought on a bunch of jokes from Aunt Judy who told me I could come over to her house and investigate any evening I was free. Haven assisted too, but her manner remained somber.
At an appropriate time, we said our goodbyes and headed to the car.
As I left, my heart ached.
Haven is right. This will hurt them all.
Dinner with them had changed my view of the case. It made me want to protect the church’s congregation more. Sadly, I knew my keeping them safe would be breaking their hearts at the same time.
They’ll survive this. They’re too good and strong to not.
Chapter 25
The Trigger
Alexander
Once I drove us away, Haven described the paintings in Vernon’s room and also told me about Mrs. Miller’s story in the hallway.
“They celebrated his sister’s birthday every year. The moment his mother arrived with her boyfriend, it threatened his peaceful life,” Haven said. “I think that could have been Vernon’s trigger for killing the girls. It happened seven months ago. Vernon started kidnapping and killing later that month.”
“After Vernon killed his sister, he may have dealt with the shame and sorrow of it. Perhaps, even the guilt. Later, he might have begun fantasizing about killing again, but never acted on it.”
“I didn’t see any indication of fantasy killing in his room, but I didn’t get a chance to really look inside.” She turned to me. “Do you think we have enough for a search warrant?”
“I can try.”
“This is a sensitive situation. If we’re wrong, then we lose the black community’s participation in the investigation. Pastor Miller’s son has gone through a lot. If we’re wrong, everyone will come for us—including my mother.”
“Then, we don’t do more until we’re right. Stein and Richards are watching Vernon. Agents are parked outside the house, hiding within regular cars.”
“White guys?”
“Yes.”
Haven shook her head. “He’ll know something is up. Shoot, everyone will know. Pastor Miller’s neighborhood is all black and half the people there have lived on that block all their life. We need some black cops in the car watching. White guys in suits won’t do. It’ll spook everyone.”
“Okay. I’ll talk to my father. He should be able to make some calls and get some black agents from Atlanta to come down. It’s only a few hours away. They can arrive by this evening.”
“Good.”
The rest of the ride went quiet.
Stress plagued me.
Could Vernon a teenager from a broken home and now living with the Pastor. . .could he have kidnapped and killed six girls? Would he have been able to clean everything up so well?
I checked with Haven. “How was his room?”
“Organized and neat. Unlike most stereotypical teenaged boys, but Mrs. Miller doesn’t play. She likes her house in order. And being that they knew they were having guests on Sunday she might’ve told him to clean his room.”
I tapped my thumb against the steering wheel. “We need more than paintings of religious holidays. Even though those dates coincide with when the Fullbrooke Six were taken.”
“Do you think his mother showing up was enough to trigger Vernon to kill?”
“Yes. Some serial killers are triggered when they see a woman that reminds them of someone that has abused them, ridiculed them, or even infatuated them.”
“I would think that if his mother is the trigger, then why not kill older woman? Why go to little black girls? Surely, he must’ve felt guilt from suffocating his sister?”
“Or he didn’t.”
“Dear God.”
“We have to consider all possibilities.” I stopped our car at the red light. “The trigger sets the serial killers off when their fantasies have been lying dormant. And it’s always a specific type of victim, behavior, unforeseen opportunity, or trust from an individual. Whatever it is, the desire to maim or take a life away comes. It could be anything that started this.”
“But so far, the sister’s birthday celebration points to the trigger.”
“It does. We’ll have talk to a psychologist about this case.”
I thought back to my training.
Criminal psychologists identified seven phases of a typical serial killer—aura, trolling, wooing, capture, murder, totem, and depression. This data was from an obsessive study of high-profile cases like Jack the Ripper, Jeffrey Dahmer, Zodiac, John Wayne Gacy, etc.
The aura phase was the first step that the potential killer took—his withdrawal from reality and entering into his own private world of perverted fantasy. Friends and family usually never detected this person’s change in personality.
Time slowed down in his mind. Serial killers have reported that colors became vivid and sound more intense. Therefore, he would begin to cut himself off from any normal stimuli. Turn antisocial. Life no longer would have meaning. An insatiable need to fulfill his own purpose and motivations would arise.
I let out a long breath. “We have to find out what Vernon did after his mother showed up. Did his behavior change at school or in church?”
“We can talk to church members and teachers.”
“We’ll ask about other students too and gently slip into the topic of Vernon.”
“We should find his mother also.” Haven shook her head and gazed outside of the window. “Julia may know something.”
The Trolling Phase came next. It was when the killer began to seek out his victim, focusing on those venues he would most likely find the type of person he chose to prey on.