Lullabies & Dead Bodies, page 17
“Thanks.”
“Sure.”
Isaac got busy, using a pair of tongs to carefully place the kabobs on the hot grill to cook. He could feel his brother’s gaze on him, watching his every movement, and he wondered what kind of an earful Adam had gotten from Sidney just now.
“So, why haven’t you mentioned the Lullaby case to me?”
There it is.
Isaac kept his attention on the task before him, placing kabobs on the grill for their game night dinner, but he couldn’t help the silent tired sigh. He didn’t want to talk about this shit with Adam. Especially not after the way his big brother had dragged him out of that bar seven years ago. That night was without a doubt the second lowest point of his entire life, and he didn’t want Adam thinking they were going to have to relive it all over again.
“Sidney tell you I’m falling apart or something?”
“No. She said she’s proud of how you’ve been handling things since this case started.”
Those words landed in his gut with a thud and robbed him of breath.
Of course Sidney’d told him she was proud. For the life of him, he’d never figure out why she believed in him so much. It was crazy, but he suddenly wondered if she’d really told Adam that, or if Adam was stretching the truth.
Isaac finally glanced at Adam. The glint in his eyes was sincere.
“Sid can see how hard it’s been on you, Ike, and she knows this one’s a big deal. She’s worried about you.”
Isaac turned back to the grill. “I know. And I can’t reassure her. Probably because I can’t seem to reassure myself right now.”
“How many are there?”
Adam’s voice was quiet and full of trepidation, like he already regretted asking the question. Isaac didn’t have to ask for clarification on what he was referring to.
“There’ve been three so far. None of them older than seven.”
Adam shook his head, and looked down at the ground. An uneasy silence crept around them in the encroaching darkness.
Isaac placed the last kabob on the fire and closed the grill lid.
“What is it about this case that gets to you, bro?”
“Everything!”
The word erupted from his lips, igniting a pool of rage deep inside him.
Something about the question had him pissed.
“They’re babies, Adam. Helpless, trusting babies. And this sick bastard is hurting them in the worst imaginable way before he finally chokes the life out of them for sport!” He gestured with his hands, curling them into tight fists. Then the rage gave way to sorrow, and his voice broke, lowering to a desperate whisper. “And they’re all so terrified.”
Victim number three’s rape flashed through his mind’s eye, causing him to flinch against the memory. He knew as long as he lived, the echo of fear and violation would reverberate throughout his soul.
“Wait.”
Adam stared at him slack-jawed and wide-eyed. Horror tumbled off him like boulders in an avalanche that threatened to smash the already flimsy mental barriers Isaac tried to keep between himself and the rest of the world.
“You’re touching them?”
His tone held a strong measure of incredulity, and his eyes nearly bugged out of his head.
Isaac didn’t say anything.
“At the crime scenes. You’re touching the victims and seeing their last moments? Their murders!”
Isaac still didn’t answer. What would be the point? Adam would never understand.
No one could.
“Jesus, Isaac! It’s no wonder you’re going off the deep end, man. Listen to me. You have got to stop putting yourself through that!”
“I can’t stop, Adam.”
“Why the fuck not?” Adam all but shouted.
“Because someone has to know what they went through!” Isaac shouted back.
“Well, why does that have to be you?”
Isaac jerked back and stared at him, wondering how he could even ask that question.
“Because I’m the only one who can see it.”
They stared at each other for a long moment. Finally Adam ran a hand through his blond waves of hair. It was a gesture of frustration that Isaac often made himself.
“Isaac, what about… what about self-preservation, man? What about hanging on to your own sanity? Your sobriety? You can’t take their suffering all on yourself. You’ll go insane that way.”
Isaac looked away and stared out into the yard. The sun was setting fast, creating eerie shadows among the shrubbery.
“The thing is, I just keep thinking that if I hadn’t botched things up the last time, then those baby girls would all be home safe with their parents.”
He looked at his brother and shook his head.
“See, what you and Sidney, and everyone else fails to understand is that this is my fault. It’s my fault, Adam.” He placed a hand on his own chest to emphasize his point. “Ultimately, those three little girls are dead because I failed to catch this fucker the last time.”
“Isaac, that’s just not true…”
“It is true! Now, I will catch the son of a bitch this time around. But until then, the very least I can do for those babies is watch their last moments, and share in their suffering. I owe them all that much!”
He took the empty pan and stalked off into the house, leaving Adam alone to stare after him.
Emmett Fox turned into the quaint historic neighborhood and slowed down. Normally he would have preferred to do this kind of thing through the proper channels, which would’ve meant going to the police station to deliver this information. Or simply sending the info by fax even. But when Detective Sergeant Isaac Taylor had gone out of his way to request not going through the proper channels, he had no choice but to hand deliver the info personally.
It wasn’t like he didn’t understand the detective’s reasoning. This case had far reaching implications for the entire Cleveland Police Department and it needed to be handled delicately. Emmett had seen Lt. Gavin Hayes’ press conference on the news a couple of days ago, and it was clear that word about the recent deaths’ possible connection to the Lullaby Killer case from seven years ago had leaked from somewhere within the CPD itself. So from where he was standing, it seemed Detective Taylor had reason to be overly cautious. Emmett could put up with a little cloak and dagger if it meant clearing the streets of a serial killer.
The GPS announced that he’d arrived at his destination, and Emmett took a good look at the house. The old Victorian one-story put him in the mind of a cupcake with all its frilly scrollwork that resembled icing. It wasn’t at all the sort of place he would’ve pictured the awkward detective living in.
The thought made him wonder if perhaps Isaac Taylor — who was so weirdly touchy about touching others — actually had a significant other whose personal style was reflected in the look of the house. Then again, he didn’t really know the detective all that well, so maybe the house did suit him. What did Emmett know?
He parked and got out of the car, examining the street around him as he made his way to the front door and rang the bell.
The door opened, and Emmett stared into the liquid blue peepers of the most gorgeous woman he’d ever laid eyes on. She was tall and shapely, and her golden hair fell around her face and shoulders in soft waves. Talk about a blonde bombshell.
Emmett registered the shock that rocketed through him at the thought that this was Isaac Taylor’s significant other, and he pushed those thoughts to the back corner of his mind.
“Hi. Can I help you?”
Emmett momentarily forgot how to speak, and the woman’s lips lifted into a smile that she very quickly tried to hide. What the hell was wrong with him? He quietly cleared his throat and tried again.
“Uh, hi. I’m ah, I’m sorry. I’m looking for Detective Sergeant Isaac Taylor.”
“You’ve got the right house. Ike is my brother. Come on in.”
Her brother.
Isaac Taylor was her brother, not her boyfriend.
A tidal wave of relief crashed over him as that knowledge sank in, and Emmett tried to figure out why it mattered.
He followed her from the short hallway into a large open living room / dining room combo area, and once his gaze lifted from her delectable denim-clad derrière, he felt immediately out of place. He saw food and board games. Eight people — four couples from the look of it. There was obviously a social gathering of some sort in full swing, and he was clearly interrupting it.
“Who called the Feds?”
The question brought all the chatter and laughter in the room to a halt.
All eyes turned his way, putting him on display.
Emmett recognized the man who’d asked. The name failed him, but if memory served, he was Isaac Taylor’s partner.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude on your gathering.”
Detective Taylor stood and came toward him.
“No, no. You’re not intruding. Just family game night.”
The detective’s self-conscious stance and relieved expression gave Emmett the feeling he was actually glad for the interruption. An African American woman with a pretty smile and an over abundance of curls appeared at the detective’s side, and Emmett frowned trying to recall where he’d seen her before.
“Hello. I’m Sidney.”
She reached out, and Emmett smiled and shook her hand.
“Oh, this is my girlfriend, Sidney Fairchild,” Detective Taylor said by way of introduction. “Darlin’, you remember Special Agent Emmett Fox with the FBI? He helped us find you when you’d been kidnapped.”
“Oh, yes! I thought you looked familiar. Welcome to our home!”
“Thank you. Nice to see you again.”
Last time he’d seen her, her face was bruised and bloody from being roughed up by the murderous Damien Jarvis. But seeing her now, he realized she was actually a very attractive woman. Still, it amused him to find that Isaac Taylor really did have a significant other in his life.
“That’s my brother, Adam over there, and his wife, Bree.” The detective continued with the introductions, not that they were necessary. “My brother, Oliver. You remember my partner, Detective Pete Vega. Beside him is our neighbor and friend, Jada Lopez. And you met my baby sister, Emily, at the door.”
Emily. Now that was a name he did find necessary to know.
She’d been standing nearby since she’d shown him in, and now she stuck her hand out to him.
“Emily Taylor. It’s very nice to meet you, Emmett.”
He took her hand and felt a current of electricity shoot up his arm.
Did that just happen?
“Nice to meet you too.”
He held onto her hand for slightly longer than seemed proper, then he let go and turned to the detective.
“I have that information you requested, and you said it was important that I not go through official channels to get it to you so… here I am.”
“Right!”
The detective looked at his girlfriend and shot an apologetic look around the room at his guests.
“Would you all excuse Pete and me for a bit? We need to talk shop for a few minutes.”
“Yeah, we can take a time out to refill our plates,” Sidney said. “Eat up, guys.”
“Nice to meet everyone,” Emmett said as he followed both detectives from the room.
“Can I get you something to drink, Agent Fox?” Isaac asked as they passed by the kitchen. “You’re welcome to fix yourself a plate.”
“No, thank you. And please, call me Emmett.”
He followed them through a well-appointed sunroom and out a set of French doors to a small patio in the backyard where a café-style table was illuminated by decorative solar lights. They all took a seat at the table.
“What’d you find, Emmett?” Isaac asked.
“Well, there’s a reason your periodic searches for Jeffery Schiffer were never fruitful. Turns out he’s spent the last seven years in a mental institution under an assumed name in Dubuque, Iowa.”
“An assumed name?”
Emmett nodded. “The alias is Eugene Talbot. The admittance paperwork stated he’d been committed by his parents because he was a danger to himself and others.”
“How’d you find him?” Isaac asked.
“A search of Jay Schiffer’s financials for the past seven years led me there. Regular monthly payments to the Barres Institution of Mental Health began approximately one month after Jeffery Schiffer disappeared from the canvas here in Cleveland.”
“One month after the original killings stopped.”
The detective’s tone was full of disgust, and Emmett could see the look of validation in his eyes. He knew he’d been right about Jeffery Schiffer seven years ago, and Emmett was happy to have helped prove it.
“That’s right.”
“But now the killings have started up again,” Detective Vega stated.
“Is Jeffery Schiffer still in this Barres Institution?” Isaac asked.
“No.”
Isaac slowly nodded, and the knowledge that he was right shone all over the man’s face.
“He was released three months ago after a Dr. Vigo Anderson deemed him well, and no longer a danger to others.”
“Son of a bitch!” Isaac slumped back in his chair. Then he looked at his partner. “We need to check the system for similar crime waves in the Dubuque area first thing tomorrow.”
“Actually, I’m a step ahead of you,” Emmett said. “I did some digging after I learned Jeffery Schiffer was out. There were two girls in the Dubuque area that went missing since his release and were later found in remote areas. Ages six and seven. Both staged in a similar fashion to the Lullaby murders, but there were no lullaby snippets found at either scene. Both murders remain unsolved.”
He placed a file on the table in front of Isaac.
“Everything I’ve told you is in the file. My guess is that he was warming up. Like stretching after a long sleep.”
“Just getting his feet wet,” Isaac mumbled. “Dipping his toes back into the water to see if it was still warm as blood.”
Emmett nodded, appreciating the dark imagery.
“You know, Ike?” Detective Vega spoke up. “At some point, we’re going to have to question the Deputy Chief. Find out what he knows about his son’s whereabouts and activities.”
“Yeah, I know. But we haven’t reached that point yet.” Isaac turned his gaze on Emmett. “I need to know what Schiffer’s been up to the last seven years. Any chance the FBI could get a subpoena for Eugene Talbot’s records from this Barres Institution?”
Emmett sighed. He’d anticipated this question.
“Since Schiffer was never actually named as a suspect seven years ago, that might be tricky.”
“But we have reason to believe he was hiding out in that institution to avoid prosecution for multiple murders, Emmett. Surely that’s got to count for something!”
Emmett was nodding his head before Isaac even finished speaking.
“It does. Which is why I’ve already put in the request. I can’t make any promises, but I’ve pushed pretty hard. If we do get the subpoena, you should be ready to fly to Iowa with me at a moments notice.”
“Gotta float that by Lt. Hayes first, but if he agrees, I’ll be ready.”
“All right.” Emmett stood. “I’ll let myself out. I apologize again for intruding on your family time, Detective.”
“It’s Isaac,” he said as he stood. “Or Ike. And you’re not intruding. Sidney and my sister-in-law… they made enough food for an army in there. You’re welcome to stay and eat. Really.”
“The barbecue kabobs and fried corn are not to be missed, man,” Detective Vega said, getting to his feet.
“Fried corn?”
“It’s a southern dish,” Isaac said, and the very image those words conjured up made Emmett’s stomach growl. Loudly.
They laughed and Emmett felt his face heat up.
“I’m sorry. I admit, it does smell amazing in there, and I haven’t had dinner yet tonight.”
“Then stay and eat,” Isaac insisted, moving toward the house. “All our drinks are of the non-alcoholic variety, but you’re welcome to ’em.”
Back inside, Vega swiped what looked like a couple of stuffed jalapeño peppers from a tray in the kitchen and disappeared back into the action in the living room, while Isaac grabbed a plate and some flatware and handed it to Emmett.
“Oh, thank you.”
“Help yourself to whatever you fancy. It’s all delicious.”
Emmett placed a couple of the mouth-watering kabobs onto his plate and then reached for the serving spoon in the huge bowl of what must be the fried corn.
“So, how long have you been sober, Ike?”
He’d heard both Detective Vega and the beautiful Emily use the shortened version of his name, so he figured it was safe. Isaac answered without hesitation.
“Coming up on eight years now.” He grinned. “You ask around about me or something?”
Emmett swallowed a bite of the chicken, licking the fantastic barbecue sauce from his fingers.
“No. You just made it a point of telling me your place was alcohol free. I figured there had to be a reason, that’s all.”
Isaac nodded, seeming satisfied with that answer.
“And how long have you been psychic?”
Emmett couldn’t help asking the question. The truth was he’d been intrigued by Isaac’s abilities — and his utter lack of confidence in them — the first time they’d met. Now though, it seemed the man was learning to accept who he was and even embrace it. Although he noticed Isaac hesitated a little before he answered.
“My whole life.”
“Yeah? How’s it work?” Emmett took a bite of the fried corn. “You don’t like to shake hands or touch others, so I assume that plays into it somehow?”
Isaac nodded. “It does.
Emmett chewed another mouthful and studied him. The look on his face was inscrutable. “And what happens if you shake my hand?”
Emmett noticed a split second of indecision as they stared at one another. Then Isaac thrust out his hand, shocking the shit out of him. Emmett set his fork down on the plate, placed the plate in his left hand, and then reached out to shake Ike’s hand.
