Page 38 of Shadow Angel
“You have my files. It’s all in there. Where, when, how I felt at the time.” Crenshaw shrugged. “I don’t recall after a week or so, so I make notes on each one.” He smiled. “The videos are something, huh? Do you know how much I can sell them for?” He chuckled. “You look at me like I’m a monster, but there are thousands out there just like me. We all share the same fantasies. It’s just some of us act on them; others, well, they wait for the rest of us to share our stories.”
“Do you think about the women you killed?” Jo stared at him.
“At the time, yeah. They become an obsession. I can’t get enough of them but as soon as I do another, I forget them.” Crenshaw tried to lean back in his chair, but the chains impeded him. “That’s why I take the movies. In winter it’s difficult to get around, so I watch the videos to take the edge off.”
“Have you ever wanted to kill your wife?” Jo inclined her head. “Do you love her?”
“I like her. She understands me. I don’t love her. I don’t love anyone. I only have strong emotions toward the women I take. Is that love? Who really knows what love is anyway?” Crenshaw chuckled. “I’ve come close to killing my wife once or twice. In winter, as I said before, it takes a ton of control to not grab a stripper. I wanted to take one home at one time but then thought better of it. Instead, I play games with my wife. She dresses up for me, you know, like a dancer in all that skimpy underwear, and allows me to apply her makeup. The last time it was difficult and took all my willpower to stop myself from killing her.”
“What do you think made you stop?” Jo crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair. “What was different that time?”
“The only thing that comes to mind is she enjoyed me roughing her up.” Crenshaw shrugged. “She giggled and I really like my darlings to be struggling and afraid of me.”
“So, dominating women and making them afraid is your fantasy?” Styles cleared his throat. “If so, why drug them?”
“Watch the videos.” Crenshaw stared at him. “Look at them when they know what I’ve done to them. When they realize they’re never gonna leave the cabin and I’m the last face they’ll see. Being dominant, as you call it, is power. They have no choice. They belong to me.”
“Getting back to your wife.” Jo’s brows furrowed. “So you didn’t try to kill her but you came close, right? What happened next? How did you control yourself that time?”
“I went straight out to find a stripper and she lasted two beautiful weeks.” Crenshaw shrugged. “I discovered they last much longer over winter and the snowplow attachment I purchased for my truck meant I could go to more places and find more abandoned cabins.”
“I’m just about done here.” Jo folded her notebook. “Are there any more questions?”
No one said a word.
“Okay, that’s all we need.” Styles stood and turned off the recorder. “Thanks for your cooperation.” He nodded to the lawyer and stood to one side to allow Jo to walk ahead of him and then collected Ryder’s recorder.
When the group came through the door, Beth looked from one to the other. “Do you figure he’ll plead guilty?”
“Yeah, he appears to be resigned to the fact.” Carter stood hands on hips. “I’d say he’d do a plea bargain of some type. I doubt he’d want to be extradited to a state with the death penalty. Plead guilty and he’d get life in Montana.”
“He’s an interesting case and very obliging. He seemed to enjoy speaking about the murders. I’d have spent more time on the specifics, but I doubt his lawyer would have allowed it. I’d really like to know more about why he sewed them to the sofa.” Jo leaned against the table. “I’ll keep him in mind for a follow-up interview and go in-depth with him some time in the future.”
Beth frowned. “I figure it was to keep them from fighting back and leaving marks on him when alive and to keep them in position, as in ‘greeting him with open arms,’ when they died.”
“You could be right.” Jo looked at Styles. “Did you give the lawyer a ride to the prison?”
“Yeah, but he’s making his own way back.” Styles pushed his Stetson over light-brown wavy hair curling at his collar and smiled. “I guess he’ll be staying in town for a time to represent his client. I imagine it will be chaos here once the press gets a hold of the story.” He walked away to talk to Carter.
“Do you have a minute?” Jo led Beth to a quiet corner. “I’d like a word.”
Stomach flip-flopping, Beth swallowed hard. Had Jo profiled her? Had she let her guard down during the interview? She summoned her charming side and smiled at her. “Sure. What’s on your mind?”
“I have your father on my list of serial killers I’m planning on interviewing.” Jo met her gaze. “I won’t include him if it’s going to become an issue between us. I understand you have dissociative amnesia about the night your mother died and you’ve never visited your father.”
Heart thumping, Beth sucked in a breath. “That’s right. The fact that he exists after what he did disgusts me. I’m glad I don’t have his name. I don’t even recall using a different last name and that’s fine by me. Having him in my life has been a burden. People look at me differently as if it’s my fault he’s a lunatic.” She stared at the ground, trying hard to keep the dark side from rising and showing in her eyes. “I don’t care if you interview him, Jo. Maybe you can find him an excuse for killing my mom and all those women, but I’ll never forgive him.”
“There’s never an excuse for killing, Beth.” Jo touched her arm. “If ever you need to talk about your concerns, I’m always here and it will be in the strictest of confidence.”
Nodding, Beth allowed the panic to drain away and cleared her throat. “Thanks, that’s very kind of you and I’ll keep that in mind.” Relieved, she turned blindly away and almost stumbled into Carter. She grasped his arm and smiled. “Ty, where are you holing up tonight?”
“We’re staying at the Cattleman’s Hotel.” Carter turned amused green eyes onto Beth. “I hope y’all will join us for supper? They have a fine restaurant on the premises. We booked a table for eight.”
The idea sounded just fine to Beth. She turned to Styles and Ryder. “What do you say?”
“Yeah, sounds good.” Ryder grabbed his recording device from the counter.
“Sure, but can we make it an early night?” Styles rolled his shoulders. “It’s been a tough few days and we’re exhausted. We’ll need to update our files for the handover to the sex crimes team.”
