Landry's Law by Kelsey Roberts Read Free Book Online Page A

green, and someone—Savannah was his guess—had taken the time to stencil a border of red-and-white flowers with green vines all around the room. Above the floor lamp illuminating the room, he discovered that she had stenciled a birdcage, complete with bird. It was so real, he half expected it to break into song at any moment.
    Though Seth had managed to keep it out of the papers, the killer had taken trophies from each victim. According to Fowler’s family, he always wore a silver pendant around his neck. Because of his work with his church, he had a Saint Barnabas medal on his person at all times. Except when his body had been fished from the freezing waters of Brock Creek behind the Mountainview Inn.
    Bill Grayson’s jewels were missing—another trophy taken. He was still waiting on information about Harvey Whitlock from the state police.
    Serial killers were known for taking trophies. According to criminal profilers, they used the trophies to allow themselves to relive each murder. They usually kept the items close at hand—either at home or at work.
    If Savannah was a serial killer, then he should find something from the earlier two murders here or at Olive’s Attic.
    The hatboxes and wooden crates he had believed to be simple decorations for her diverse tastes turned out to be little treasure troves.
    After slipping on a pair of latex gloves, Seth started to inventory his findings. The hatboxes were filled with photographs. It was easy for him to find Savannah in the pictures. She’d been born with those incredible eyes. He was looking at a time capsule of her life. Savannah alone, then as the years passed, three small boys were added to the pictures of family vacations and holidays. All the important things were covered—birthdays, holidays, etc. Unfortunately, other than vacations to easily distinguishable locations, none of the photographs gave him a definite impression on where she had grown up. All he could tell was that she was from some East Coast state with four seasons. Or, it could mean that she and her family simply vacationed often.
    Speaking of family, Savannah had given him the impression that she was an orphaned only child. As he took a fast-forward look through her past, it was plainly obvious that the three boys were her younger brothers. Their resemblance to one another ruled out cousins or other versions of relatives. He’d know those blue-brown eyes anywhere.
    In the bottom of the second hatbox, he found agraduation photograph. Savannah’s entire family surrounded the youngest brother, who was dressed in cap, gown and acne. In the background, he could just make out a partial name of the high school. It appeared to be an urban setting. If she was from Maryland as she claimed, it shouldn’t be too hard for him to fax the photograph to the Maryland State Police for identification. Seth tagged and bagged the picture.
    Dawn was threatening when Seth reached for the first wooden crate. It was at that moment that he heard a key being inserted into the front door.
    Kneeling down, Seth unholstered his weapon, held it in a two-handed grip, and then stopped breathing as he trained the muzzle on the slowly opening door.
    “Good gracious, Seth Landry!” Olive screeched. “Put that gun down before you give me a heart attack!”
    He holstered his gun as Junior dutifully followed his mother into the cabin, carrying a basket. Seth could smell freshly baked bread along with Olive’s vapor trail of perfume.
    “I can’t believe you left her in jail all night,” Junior said in an angry tone Seth had never heard during their nearly forty years of acquaintance. “You know she isn’t a killer. How can you do this?”
    “It’s my job,” Seth explained, irritated by their intrusion. Hell, he was just irritated period. “I don’tmean to be rude, Olive, but I need to finish my work here and I can’t have you and Junior traipsing through the place like you own it.”
    “I do own it,” Olive reminded