Lullabies & Dead Bodies, page 7
“And you know this because you felt it? Or saw it in a vision or whatever the hell it is you supposedly do?”
Dorn’s tone was mocking. If it had been respect Isaac heard in the jerk’s voice at the crime scene this morning there was zero trace of it now. Isaac was all broken up about that. He stared Dorn down, refusing to explain his actions or his monsters.
“Were you able to identify our new victim?”
“No, not yet.”
“So far we still haven’t found any reports of a missing girl in her age range, Sarge,” Gerri Miller spoke up, putting an end to the standoff. “We’ve checked all CPD precincts, the local Sheriff’s office, and the state Highway Patrol. I’ve got a call in to the FBI. Still waiting to hear back, but it’s a mystery.”
“Keep at it. Somebody’s got to know who she is. I’d hate to have to put her picture on the six o’clock news for information.”
“We’ll stay on it.”
He turned his attention to Pete. “Crime scene?”
“Janey Doe is now in the morgue with Dr. Sato, and I’ve got the forensics lab putting a rush on everything they collected at the scene. Here’s a photo of the lullaby snippet found in the girl’s hand.”
He raised his cellphone and Isaac took it from him carefully, so as not to touch Pete’s hand. He enlarged the image and read the first line of Rock a Bye Baby. In the snippet were more poked out letters — C, A, N and T.
Isaac’s jaw tightened. He didn’t even want to know what was coming next. He turned back to Dorn.
“What’s your next move?” he asked, trying to make Dorn feel as though he were the one driving the direction of this investigation.
Dorn hesitated a beat.
“Just to continue doing what we’re doing. We need an ID on Janey Doe before we can move forward. Other than that we’re doing everything we can. Waiting on the M.E. and forensics reports.”
Isaac nodded. “Good work. Keep at it.”
He turned and headed for his own desk and he could feel Pete hot on his heels.
“I know that look, Ike.”
He stopped and sighed. “What look?”
“That one.” Pete pointed to Isaac’s face, careful not to get too close. “The one that says something’s on your mind, but you’re not sure you want to let anyone else in on it yet. Not even me. What are you sitting on, partner?”
Isaac looked away for a second. “I’ve got something to go do. Call my cell if you need me, or if we get a name on our Janey Doe.”
“Isaac.”
“I can’t talk about it, Pete. Lieutenant’s orders.”
“Oh, so you and the lieutenant are keeping secrets from the rest of us now, huh?”
“I can’t talk about this here!”
Isaac’s tone was sharper than he meant for it to be and he glanced around when a couple of heads turned their way. He took a step closer to Pete and lowered his voice.
“Look… I made a mistake the last time around and the Lullaby Killer walked away. I will not let that happen this time. Now I can’t say any more than that while we’re standing here.”
He watched Pete’s eyes narrow and he could tell his partner was studying him and his words — the ones he’d said and the ones he hadn’t. And he saw understanding and curiosity connect and begin a tango.
“Okay. So can I buy you a non-alcoholic beer after our shift so we can talk?”
“No. I don’t spend time in bars anymore if I don’t have to. But maybe you can join Sid and me for dinner tonight. We can talk then.”
Pete nodded. “Okay.”
Isaac mirrored his nod and then turned for the door.
7
Isaac walked into the Cleveland FBI field office and looked around. He’d never had occasion to come here before, but the sleek minimalistic decor and the security checkpoint just beyond the front desk were pretty much exactly what he’d expected. He walked over to the desk, his footsteps echoing against the cool white marble floor, and presented his badge to the smartly dressed receptionist behind the counter.
“Detective Sergeant Isaac Taylor with the Cleveland Police Department. I was hoping to speak with Special Agent Emmett Fox if he’s available.”
“Do you have an appointment with Special Agent Fox?”
“No, ma’am. He’s not expecting me.”
The woman picked up a phone and had a quick conversation that Isaac couldn’t hear over the blur of an alarm sounding at the security checkpoint when a man went through the metal detector. He looked over to see an armed agent making the man step aside for a more thorough search.
“Special Agent Fox will be right down, Sgt. Taylor. You can have a seat over there.”
She pointed to a small sunny waiting area across from the front desk and Isaac nodded his thanks. Then he walked over and took a seat in one of the chairs and allowed his gaze to drift out the nearby window at the neatly manicured lawn.
He was making a big assumption by requesting to see Special Agent Emmett Fox. Truth be told, he wasn’t even sure the man would remember him. They had only met once before when Sidney had been abducted by her estranged abusive husband, but the stoic agent had impressed Isaac by accepting his psychic abilities without question or hesitation. He only hoped the man would accept what he was about to tell him with equal open-mindedness.
“Detective Taylor?”
Isaac looked up and saw Emmett Fox approaching him with an outstretched hand. An olive complexion and pale greenish-brown eyes, Fox was several inches shorter than Isaac himself. But his black curly hair gave him at least an inch and half more in height.
Isaac stood, but eyed Fox’s hand warily, drawing his own hands into loose fists and bringing them closer to his torso.
“I’m sorry, Agent Fox, but I prefer not to shake hands if you don’t mind.”
“Ah, that’s right! I forgot.” Fox withdrew his hand with a quick point of his index finger. “Forgive me. Please, follow me.”
He led Isaac over to a nearby small conference room and closed the door behind them. A small rectangular table and comfy cushioned office chairs were the only furniture in the space, and Agent Fox motioned for him to take a seat.
“Congratulations on the promotion,” Emmett said as he sat down in the chair next to him. “The receptionist said there was a detective sergeant here to see me.”
Isaac nodded, and a slight sense of relief washed in at the knowledge that Fox did, in fact, remember him.
“Oh, yes. Thank you.”
“Well, what can I do for you, Detective Sergeant?”
Isaac took a deep breath. “Well, now that I’m here, I realize that I don’t actually have any favors to call in. But I was hoping to get your unofficial assistance on a case we’re working at the CPD.”
Isaac could see the interest spark behind Fox’s greenish-brown eyes.
“Unofficial assistance?”
“That’s right.”
Fox folded his arms across his chest and stared at him, and Isaac knew he had the man’s undivided attention.
“Now I’m intrigued.”
“Are you from Cleveland, Agent Fox?”
“No. I’m from Boulder, Colorado.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, how long have you been here at this field office?”
“Just over five years. Why?”
“Then I’m guessing you’ve never heard of the Lullaby Killer?”
Fox’s eyebrows lifted.
“Actually, I am somewhat familiar with that case. The FBI tries to stay abreast of all serial murder cases in the US. When I was first transferred here, I was briefed on all the cases that have happened in this area over the last twenty years. I know this office provided support to local authorities during the Lullaby Case in the form of behavioral analysis.”
Isaac nodded. “That’s right. Unfortunately that criminal profile did not lead us to our man.”
“No, it didn’t. As far as I know, no suspect was ever apprehended, is that right?”
“That’s correct.”
“Detective, does this have something to do with the little girl who went missing from a family gathering recently and was discovered at the stockyards?”
“Isabel Scott, yes. We have reason to believe her murder is connected to the Lullaby murders from seven years ago.”
“What reason?”
“The M.O. is very similar.” Isaac glanced at his clasped hands before continuing. “The victims bodies are staged in a very similar fashion.”
“Victims? Plural?”
“Yes. There was a second little girl found this morning beside the railroad tracks. No ID on her yet.”
Fox grimaced, clearly disgusted.
“And what, unofficially, can we do for you?”
Isaac drew in a deep breath and sighed. He hated that he had to share this information with anyone, let alone the FBI.
“Seven years ago, we had a person of interest. But something I did caused that person to flee before he could be apprehended. The murders stopped however, prompting me to believe that he was, in fact, our killer. Now, over the ensuing years I’ve continually looked into his whereabouts, but to no avail. As the FBI has better resources in that kind of thing, I was hoping maybe you could quietly check into it for me.”
Fox stared at him for a moment, and Isaac could see the inevitable question form in the other man’s head before he even said it.
“What’d you do that tipped him off?”
Reluctant, Isaac licked his lips and looked away for a second. Then, knowing he had no choice he looked Fox in the eyes.
“In a bout of frustration and anger, I shot my mouth off to the wrong person.”
“Who was that?”
“The suspect’s father.”
The look on Fox’s face was pure how-could-you-be-that-stupid surprise, and Isaac’s stomach dipped in shame, his gaze hitting the floor for a second.
“I was young and green at the time. I’d only been a detective just over a year. But it’s no excuse.”
Fox nodded and Isaac squirmed while the man studied him.
“Does your lieutenant know you’re here right now, Detective?”
“Yes, he does. But he would like your involvement to remain off the record for now. If you need to speak to him about this, please do so by calling his personal cellphone number and not a department line.”
Isaac pulled a business card from his pocket and grabbed one of several pens that had been left on the conference table, and scribbled Gavin Hayes’ cellphone number on the back. Holding the card by the very tip, he handed it to Fox, being careful not to touch him.
“I do apologize for the cloak and dagger, but it is necessary.”
“Well, now I’m doubly intrigued.” Fox took the card and looked at Isaac for a long moment. “Why come to me with this?”
“Well, isn’t finding people what the FBI do? That’s your specialty, right?”
A slight grin tugged at the corner of Emmett Fox’s mouth.
“Yes. But I mean why specifically me?”
Isaac didn’t hesitate with his answer.
“Because you didn’t treat me like a freak of nature when we first met. You took my psychic ramblings at face value and trusted me. That’s a lot more acceptance than I’ve ever gotten at my own department, so it meant a lot.”
Isaac thought back on that day just a few months ago when Sidney had been kidnapped by her murderous former husband. Isaac had been so desperate to save her that he’d gone to his psychic therapist, Geneviève Leroux, and begged her to show him how to use his abilities to locate Sidney. He’d felt so insane doing it, and he was certain that everyone involved would call him a crackpot, but Special Agent Emmett Fox had believed him.
“Okay. I’ll look into it.” Fox pulled a small notepad and pen from the breast pocket of his suit and prepared to take notes. “Who’s your guy?”
“His name is Jeffery Schiffer. Born and raised right here in Cleveland.”
Fox nodded and scribbled the information down.
“Anything else I should know?”
“Yes. He’s the son of our Deputy Chief of Police, Jay Schiffer.”
Fox looked up with clear surprise.
“Now that’s what I’d call burying the lead.”
“And now you know why Lt. Hayes and I need for my visit here to be unofficial. If anyone asks, you and I were having lunch and shooting the shit about the Cavs. Or I was consulting on some case you needed a psychic for.”
He finished with a shrug of his shoulder, and watched Fox’s lips twist into a slow grin.
“If I’m not mistaken, you seem to be a little more comfortable with that distinction than you were the first time we met, Detective.”
Isaac made a slight roll of his eyes.
“Yeah, well. I’ve recently learned it’s a family trait that’s been handed down for several generations. A secret that was purposely hidden from me for some time. Somehow knowing that has made it not quite as scary and awful as it used to be. It’s something I’m learning to accept about myself.”
Something he never would’ve begun to even consider doing if it hadn’t been for Sidney’s influence and encouragement. She’d changed his life in so many ways.
“I’m glad to hear it.”
Fox nodded and then stood, prompting Isaac to stand as well.
“Well, I do have a full case load of my own, but I’ll look into this and get back to you.”
“Thank you. My cell number is on the card. And if you need to reach out to my lieutenant…”
“Call his cell. I got it.”
He held up the card Isaac had given him, and then he opened the door and led him across the reception area to the front doors of the building.
“Thanks for coming, Isaac.”
Fox put a little extra volume behind his jovial tone, and Isaac took note of the familiarity.
“Maybe we can catch a game when the Cavs play the Nuggets.”
Isaac grinned at him and played along.
“Ooh, you know Denver wouldn’t stand a chance against my Cavs, Emmett. But that’d be a fun game.”
“There’s no trash-talking allowed in the FBI offices. Get outta here.”
Isaac chuckled. “I’ll see you around.”
“Have a good one.”
Isaac left the building amused by Agent Fox’s unnecessary subterfuge. He’d even made the agent smile and laugh a bit. It was a stark contrast to the stoic inscrutable air that usually hung about him, and Isaac decided he liked the guy. Not because he’d just been given a peek at Fox’s sense of humor, but because he seemed like a decent and fair human being. Even if he did work for the Feds.
Sidney stepped out of her car carrying her gym bag and stopped to grab the mail. She was sweaty and gross from her kickboxing class and couldn’t wait to jump into the shower, but she felt great about her session.
She knew that most people got into kickboxing for the amazing workout, and it had begun to do wonders for her midsection, her arms, and her thighs. But for her, it was all about building self-confidence and learning how to fight for herself if she ever needed to.
After running away from her abusive former husband and being in hiding for nearly two years, only to wind up being terrorized and kidnapped by him just a few months ago, she’d made the decision that she would never again allow herself to become a victim.
It was something she used to say to herself when she was on the run, but she’d never really acted on it. Not until she met Isaac and began believing the things he said to her. Things about her being brave and courageous and fearless. Words she would never have attributed to herself before. But Isaac saw those things in her. At least, he claimed to, and it made her want to live up to his opinion of her.
She’d taken a basic self-defense course that had been taught by Isaac’s partner, Detective Pete Vega. It had been so informative and practical, but it had also helped boost her confidence. She’d wanted more. So she signed up for this kickboxing class and was loving it. And Isaac had even taken her to the shooting range a few times and was teaching her how to handle a gun.
She was learning to take care of herself.
Learning how to be strong.
She let herself into the house and her cellphone rang, prompting a smile to erupt on her face at the first note of the ringtone she’d selected for Isaac — the chorus section of Whitney Houston’s “Love That Man.” She thought it described Ike and the way she felt about him perfectly.
“Meow.”
Alfred Hitchcock greeted her at the door like a dog, and Sidney bent over to pick him up, and then she fished her cellphone out of her bag.
“Hey, baby.”
“Hey darlin’. You sound breathless. You still kicking a heavy bag’s butt?”
Sidney giggled and dropped her gym bag on the bedroom floor and flopped down on the bed, still cuddling the kitten.
“Nope. I just walked in the door. What’s up?”
“Well, I wanted to give you a heads up. I may have done something that’ll get you mad at me.”
“Uh oh,” Sidney joked. Then she smiled. “I doubt you’ll make me mad. But what’s going on?”
“I sort of invited Pete over for dinner tonight.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. See we need to talk about this case. But for reasons I can’t get into right now, we can’t do that at the station. There’s too many ears, if you get my drift. So…”
“So you invited him here.” Sidney finished his sentence.
Isaac sighed. “I’m sorry. I know it’s short notice. If you want I can pick up a couple of pizzas on the way home or something.”
“No, it’s fine. I was planning on making a lasagna anyway. There’ll be plenty.”
“You sure?”
Sidney could tell he felt bad, and it made her smile for some reason.
“Yes, I’m sure. Don’t worry about it.”
Isaac sighed again, only this time there was a hint of something behind it. Defeat maybe? Exhaustion? She couldn’t pinpoint the emotion, but whatever it was she didn’t like it.
“How was the scene at the railroad tracks this morning?” She remembered his early morning call out and their aborted lovemaking session.
