Lullabies & Dead Bodies, page 4
“Hey, there. No playing ball inside the womb, young man. Give your mama a break okay? She’s been working all day to get things ready for you, so how about you take it easy in there, hmm?”
A small nudge to his hand had his gaze flicking up to lock with Bree’s. It wasn’t the first time he’d felt the baby kick, or even the first time they’d experienced the baby responding to his voice. But every time was magical.
He kissed her belly and then moved up to kiss her lips.
“I think she loves her daddy,” Bree whispered.
“You think so?”
“Um hmm. I know I love him.”
Adam grinned. “I love you too, babe. So much.”
4
Isaac stood looking around the scene. They were on the southern outskirts of Stockyards, the neighborhood where Isabel Scott’s body had been found in the wee hours of the morning.
The area got its name from the once booming animal processing plant that took up more than 60 acres of land back in its heyday in the early 1920s. Though the actual stockyards where the animals were held, and the processing plant where they were slaughtered were both long gone by now, Isaac could imagine the putrid smell of rotting blood that surely coated the ground a hundred years ago.
The crime scene was sectioned off by bright yellow police tape, and a uniformed officer kept watch over it to keep gawkers away until they were certain the CSU had gotten everything it needed. The body had long since been removed and taken to the morgue, but Isaac stared at the chalk outline where the girl had been discovered.
“So from the crime scene photos we saw, Isabel had been placed in a party dress. Different from what she’d been wearing when she disappeared.”
There was a question in there somewhere, and Isaac could feel Pete’s eyes on him, but he didn’t respond.
“I’m guessing that’s part of the staging you and Lt. Hayes were talking about?”
Isaac finally nodded.
“Yeah. It’s part of the Lullaby Killer’s sick signature. After he kills them he puts his victims in frilly, flowery dresses. The kind mothers make their little girls wear on special occasions, like birthdays or Easter Sunday. Then he poses them like they’re just sleeping peacefully, lullaby snippet in their hands. Seven years ago we drove ourselves crazy trying to track down what stores sold the particular dresses the little ones were found in, but…”
He paused and shook his head.
“It was one dead end after another. This guy was playing with us. Had us wasting our time chasing clues that led nowhere.”
“I bet that was frustrating.”
“Frustrating as hell. Meanwhile he was sitting back laughing at us.”
And sticking it to his father, who was head of the homicide division at the time. But Isaac would keep that part to himself for now. After all, they never had any evidence against Jeffery Schiffer. Never even got the chance to bring Schiffer in for questioning. Thanks to him.
Pete moved off to the side and Isaac somehow knew that his partner was giving him space to “vibe” the scene, as he’d put it earlier. Isaac closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths to center himself. Then he opened them and took a step forward.
The body had been found on the ground amid the ruins of the old processing plant. The building — a long-standing eyesore of a bygone era — had been torn down only a few years ago, some stray bricks the only remnants of the once mighty corporation. Isaac knelt down in the dirt near where the body had been discovered.
A charge of electricity ran through him.
A sick excitement.
An evil calm.
Whoever the killer was, he got a truly perverse sense of pleasure out of this game he was playing. It wasn’t simply stealing the girls from their safe places; it wasn’t just ripping their innocence away before he choked the life out of them. The staging was also an important piece of the equation. It gave him as much or more erotic satisfaction as the raping and the killing. Isaac could feel it as he knelt there.
He took in a labored breath and stood, eager to get out of the warped head space the killer was trying to lure him into. When his cellphone rang he was relieved to have something else to focus on.
“Taylor.”
“It’s Detective Miller, Sergeant. You said to update you at the three hour mark.”
“Yes. What can you tell me, Detective?”
“Curt and I spoke to most of the younger children that were at the family gathering last night. There were a few parents who gave us a hard time about it, but we were able to speak to a good number of them.”
“And?”
“And three of them actually said something interesting. Isabel mentioned a man who was looking for his lost kitten.”
Bingo.
“Did any of them see this man?”
“No, sir. But one of them did distinctly say that the man was hiding in the alley. When I asked if she saw the man hiding in the alley, she said no, but that Isabel told her about him. She claims Isabel left the yard to help the man find his kitten. Isabel told her she’d be right back.”
“Excellent work, Miller. You and Dorn go home and get some sleep. We’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Miller and Dorn find something?” Pete asked as Isaac put his phone away.
“Three kids who say Isabel told them a nice man in the alley was looking for his lost kitten. One of them claims Isabel left the yard to go help him.”
“Well, good thing you called CSU to go over the alley. Maybe they’ll find something we can use.”
“We can only hope.”
“What about this place?” Pete looked around their surroundings. “You get anything from here?”
“Not much more than a feeling.”
“What kind of feeling?”
Isaac hesitated for a beat.
“Sinister.”
“Hey. Any word yet on the findings from the alley behind the Scott house?”
Gavin Hayes found him as soon as Isaac and Pete returned to the station.
Isaac shook his head. “As far as I know CSU is still out there combing through it. Did hear from Miller though that she and Dorn were able to question several of the younger children, a few of which mentioned Isabel leaving the yard to help a nice man find his lost kitten.”
“Typical. Were any of them able to give a description of that man?”
“Unfortunately, no.”
“And I understand you sent Miller and Dorn home?”
“Yes, sir. They’d been at it all night and running on fumes. Told them to rest up and hit it hard in the morning. Hope that was okay.”
“Totally your call. What’s your next move?”
“Well, I’ve got Pete pulling all the old files on the original Lullaby case. While he’s doing that I thought I’d head upstairs to forensics and see if I can’t get some time with the lullaby snippet.”
“Okay. Once you’ve done that why don’t you take your own advice and go home. Try to enjoy what’s left of your day off.”
“I don’t know if that’s possible now, Lieu.”
He walked away and headed up the stairs. In the forensics lab he spotted Lt. Harry Alvin hunched over a microscope and walked over to him.
“Alvin, you got a minute?”
Round eyes set in a chubby round face looked up at him with a curious gaze.
“Detective Taylor. What can I do for you?”
“The lullaby snippet from the crime scene out in Stockyards?”
“The little girl?”
“That’s the one. By any chance are you guys done with it?”
“As a matter of fact, we are. We tested the paper, the ink, dusted it for prints, checked for DNA. Is there something specific you’d like us to test for?”
“No, I um…” He hesitated and swallowed. “I was just wondering if, ah…”
He’s going to think I’m nuts.
“If I could hold it for a minute.”
“Hold it?”
“Yes. In my hands.”
Dead silence.
The kind he’d experienced all his life that told him others believed he was a walking freak show.
“If you’re done with it, of course.”
Alvin blinked a few times. “Um, sure. The bag is sealed, you understand.”
“Yes, I understand.”
“Okay. Let me get it for you.”
Alvin walked away and Isaac’s gaze bounced around the lab, making sure no one else had been in listening distance of that awkward conversation. Not that it mattered. He was sure the whole precinct would know about his strange request by the end of the day.
“Here you go.”
Alvin returned with a sealed evidence bag containing the slip of torn paper and handed it to him.
“Thank you.”
Isaac took a deep breath and turned around, searching for a tiny measure of privacy. Then he positioned the bag so that the small strip of paper was centered in his left palm. He closed his hand around it, and closed his eyes to concentrate. Immediately, he saw flashes of light and shadows.
When the vision cleared there were a pair of hands — caucasian, male — slowly ripping the slip of paper from the pages of a book. When the snippet was free, the hands closed the book. The cover, with its title, came into clear view. Then the hands picked up a long straight pin with a small pearl at one end — the kind of pin that might adorn a lady’s hat — and carefully poked out three letters from the tiny slip of paper.
Isaac quietly gasped and opened his eyes. Remembering where he was, he took a couple of deep breaths in an attempt to compose himself. Then he turned around to find Lt. Alvin staring at him with wide round eyes. When Isaac glared at him, Alvin had the good grace to quickly look away and busy himself with the work in front of him.
Isaac quietly cleared his throat. Then he handed the bag to Alvin.
“Get what you need?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“Sure thing.”
Acutely aware of the Twilight Zone look Harry Alvin was trying and failing to hide, Isaac turned and walked away without another word.
From there he walked down three flights of stairs to the second floor breezeway that led to the city morgue. Might as well get all the freak show events out of the way at once, right?
“Hey, Hiroshi.” He greeted the medical examiner with a nod and a smile.
“Isaac. What’s up?”
His friend pushed the wire-rimmed glasses further up on his nose with one latex-gloved finger.
“Hope I’m not interrupting.”
“Well, I was just about to begin an autopsy, but I’ve got a second. Did you need something?”
“Yeah, I was kind of hoping that I could steal a minute with Isabel Scott.”
“Isabel Scott?”
“The victim in the case from early this morning. The little girl.”
“Right. The Lullaby case.”
“That’d be the one.”
“I haven’t gotten to her autopsy yet. It’ll be later today.”
“No, that’s fine. I just wanted to…” He hesitated. “Well, I wanted to…”
“Touch her? See what you see?”
Isaac sighed and silently nodded. Hiroshi was one of the few people who had never made him feel like a freak over the psychic thing. He took Isaac, and all the weirdness that came with him, at face value, and Isaac appreciated it.
“She’s right over here.”
He led Isaac to the far side of the lab where little Isabel was laid out on the cold, sterile stainless steel table, covered with a white sheet.
Isaac looked down into her lovely face, devoid of any emotion or spark of life. With a deep breath to prepare himself, he reached out with one bare finger and lightly touched her cheek.
Light flickered behind his eyes.
Fear and pain.
Large hands closed in around her throat.
Her hands, so small in comparison, beat against yellow sleeves.
Blackness.
Isaac gasped loudly and staggered backward a step.
“You okay, Ike?”
“Yeah. I’m fine.” He panted and fought to catch his breath.
“You sure? You don’t look fine, man.”
“I’m good.” He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his blond hair, pulling it back off his forehead. “I gotta get back to work. Thanks, Hiroshi.”
“You’re welcome. I think.”
Isaac left the morgue and headed back to the station and the detectives pit. At his desk he took a seat and a few cleansing breaths, trying to calm himself down and recover from the vivid last memory of sweet, trusting, little Isabel Scott, who only wanted to help a nice stranger find his lost kitten in the alley behind her uncle’s house.
Pull yourself together, Ike.
Pull himself together. How the hell was he supposed to pull himself together when he knew with every breath he took that Isabel Scott was dead because of him?
“You all right, man?” Pete watched him closely from his desk. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Just the memory of one.” Isaac spoke under his breath.
“What?”
“Nothing. How are you coming on those old files?”
“Pulled out five boxes worth of files from the open cases archive. I doubt I’ll get through it all today, but at least it’s at my fingertips. What exactly am I looking for, Ike?”
“I don’t know. For starters why don’t you make a list of all the ways this new case differs from the original lullaby spree. If this is a copycat and not the real deal, I want to know it.”
“Got it.”
“I’m heading out. Gonna try to salvage what’s left of my day off. Call me if anything pops on this case.”
“Will do.”
On his way home, Isaac stopped at a local big chain bookstore and asked about the book of lullabies he saw in the flash when he’d handled the snippet in the forensics lab.
“I’m sorry, sir, it looks like we don’t carry that book.”
“Well, is there any way I could order it from you?”
“Your best bet would probably be to order it online. It looks like it might be out of print, but online you might be able to find a seller trying to unload a few.”
“Okay. Thanks for your time.”
“You’re welcome.”
He left the bookstore and headed for home, eager to get back to Sidney and the comfort of her arms.
When he pulled up outside the remodeled one-story Victorian cottage with an actual white picket fence he was filled with equal amounts of longing and relief. He thought back on the dark depressing box he’d called home for so many lonely years before Sidney had breezed into his life with one random mistaken wrong phone number, and how much she’d changed his life for the better. Unlatching the gate and walking up to the front door he vowed, as he often did, that he would never take her or the gift of touch that she’d brought to him, for granted.
When he opened the door he heard the soft strains of Marvin Gaye wafting out to greet him.
“Meow.”
And Alfred Hitchcock, the cat.
Isaac bent down to pick up the fluffy brown-point Ragdoll kitten and scratched its head as he ventured further into the living room. He found Sidney in the kitchen unloading the dishwasher.
“Hey, darlin’.”
She looked up with a start. “Isaac. I wasn’t expecting you home until around dinnertime.”
He set the kitten on the floor and pulled Sidney into his arms, burying his face in her bouncy coils of hair. Her hands ran over his back in a soothing motion and he all but moaned at the sensation. He tightened his embrace and breathed in deep the light scents of honeysuckle and ginger that punctuated her perfume.
“Baby, are you okay?”
It was a soft whisper at his ear.
“I am now.” He sighed, never letting go of her. “I just needed to hold you for a minute.”
“I’m not complaining.”
He smiled at the playful note he heard in her voice and finally pulled back.
“What happened at the station? Was it the killer you expected?”
He took a plate from the dishwasher and put it away in the cabinet.
“We think so.”
“You’re not sure?”
“Well, it could be a copycat. We’re not certain yet.”
“Oh.”
“Either way, it’s bad.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You and me both. I’m going to go sit in front of the TV for a while if you don’t mind.”
“Of course not.”
“I know we were going to take a drive to the lake today, but…”
“No, don’t worry about it. As long as we’re together I don’t care what we do.”
He placed a sweet kiss on her lips and then retreated to the spare bedroom that they’d turned into a small home office and looked up the lullaby book from his flash. Once he’d ordered a copy, he went into the sunroom where they’d begun the day wrapped in each other’s arms.
The memory of their lust-filled, naked morning brought a glimmer of happiness to his sudden bout of depression. Still, it wasn’t enough to stave off the overwhelming sense of guilt.
That little girl lying in the morgue was on him.
Her blood was on his hands, and there was nothing he could do to remove the stain.
He had no idea how long he’d sat in front of the television — staring at it, but only seeing the horrors inside his own mind — but when Isaac finally looked around the sun was setting outside the sunroom windows. He glanced at the clock on the wall. 6:30.
That couldn’t be right.
He’d zoned out for over three hours?
“Hey. Dinner will be ready soon.”
Sidney took a seat and smiled at him. He opened his mouth to ask her what had happened to the time, but he didn’t want to sound crazy.
She took his hand.
“Ike are you sure everything’s all right? You’ve been acting so strange since you got that phone call this morning.”
He stared at her for a moment, contemplating what to say and how to say it. How did he explain? Where should he start?
