The Past, page 21
“It’s too soon.” She forced her hand free and climbed the stairs.
Josh paced his room. He had to do it. How could he safeguard her if he didn’t? The furniture’s clean lines melted into the background as he continued to put off the unavoidable. If she woke up, he’d be in deep trouble. She came here to do him the favor.
He ran his fingers through his hair and sat on his bed only to get up again. If something happened to her, he wouldn’t make it through this time. After those white panties fell out of her suitcase, her cheeks blushed, and he knew she was the one. He never believed it would happen to him. No one ever came close.
She was more beautiful than any woman he’d ever seen. Smart. Athletic. She didn’t know she brightened every room she entered. But her prickly ways and standoffish attitude wore him down.
His only hope remained she didn’t wake up, but her sleep habits were worse than his. He moved over to his walk-in closet and opened the door. His old duffle bag lay in the back corner. He rummaged inside until he found the small case that contained what he needed. He hadn’t used it in over a decade.
He took the syringe apart and went into the bathroom to get the rubbing alcohol, the ether, and a big gauze pad. The clock on his dresser showed the time. Now or never. She needed time for the drug to wear off before morning. Gauging the correct dosage was the tricky part.
He moved silently through the house to her door and placed his ear close. For several minutes he listened. No sound. He turned the handle, entered, and used the stealth he’d learned long ago. He pushed the curtains back and enough moonlight came into the room for him to finish what he started.
He took the lid off the ether, and tilted the metal container into the gauze pad. Quickly, he placed it over her mouth and nose. She coughed once while he counted the time in his head like he trained to do so many years before. Her body seemed to relax more as the fumes overtook her. After he thumped her shoulder with no response, he took the syringe and inserted the tracking device under her skin, right below her shoulder blade. She couldn’t know about the chip he planted. If she ever did, she’d never forgive him, but he had to protect her.
She stirred and turned toward him. Her eyes slowly opened. “Bobby? Don’t leave me.” She dragged her tongue across her bottom lip, reached up to put her arms around him, and pulled him down to her. The movements were awkward because of the drug, but she still found her target. Their lips barely touched before she collapsed in his arms and slumber took her again.
Who the hell is Bobby? He wanted to hate him, but she’d spoken of losing him. He hoped the man no longer remained in her life.
He wanted more than anything to climb in bed beside her. If nothing else, to hold her through the night. But he knew if he ever got that close, he wouldn’t be able to stop at simply holding her. He stood and watched her stillness in the faded moonlight.
As much as he wanted to stay, he left her sleeping. Longing accompanied him through the kitchen and down the hall. Emptiness overwhelmed him once he entered his solitary room. Exhaustion overtook him, and he crawled into his bed, knowing his own nightmares would visit before morning.
James Silsby’s body jerked, startling him awake. He listened intently for whatever had woken him. He watched the Con-Haul parking lot. Only an old Ford truck and twelve Con-Haul rigs lined up in a row, not his guy. He glanced at his watch. Three thirty-five in the morning. He yawned. His man probably wouldn’t show up until daylight.
He reached for a cigarette from his pack on the dash. He lit it, inhaled deeply, and sat a little longer. Uneasiness crept over him, but the urge to relieve himself pushed every other idea away. He opened the door and got out, shaking his tingling legs to get the feeling back.
“Why are you following me?” A voice from the dark spoke right before something slammed him in the stomach.
His vision blurred, and he doubled over. “What the hell!”
He went for the knife strapped to his ankle but heard his wrist crack. Excruciating pain followed. His sight cleared, only to shoot terror through his veins. His hand dangled from his arm, barely attached. He understood he was already a dead man, but his reflexes attempted to get him on his feet and away from the danger.
“Answer me,” the voice commanded.
But James couldn’t focus on anything but his sister and the agony that radiated from his wounds. He shook his head to bring about rational thought so he could talk.
“Hell, I don’t care why anymore,” the shadow said.
James smelled the fear in his sweat, saw the bat swing toward him, and heard the air swish before the pain exploded through his neck.
I heard air whoosh out of him, and he fell to the ground. What the crap. Two men followed me several days in a row. Nothing made sense, but I couldn’t leave the body here across the street from Con-Haul. Eventually, the police would get involved. I didn’t want them to snoop around this area.
The interior light fell across the dead man’s face when I opened the passenger door to the old Chevy. I recognized the man as the brother of a young girl from Texas I picked up and brought to my old man.
The bastard had trained me well. I could always pick ’em for him. He taught me exactly what he liked in a female. Early on I learned no one argued with him. While I served him, I found young beautiful women for him to rape and kill.
I shook the notion away and looked inside the car to see if there was anything that might tell me why this guy had been following me. I didn’t understand why I’d become so popular with white men. At least this guy wouldn’t follow me anymore.
I took my gloves off and dug through the piles made from food wrappers. Nothing pointed in my direction. I grabbed an old sack and stuffed the loose papers inside it. The prints on the bag would go with me once I left.
I put my pigskin gloves back on, unlocked the trunk, and shoved the body inside. I hunted for anything else that might leave the cops a trail. I went through the dash and found only his registration for the car and a flashlight. I checked again to make sure. Nothing.
This time I drove a mile and a half before I pulled into a parking lot. In the past, I’d bought groceries here and knew this place didn’t have working cameras. I left the key in the ignition and walked away in the opposite direction from Con-Haul. After two blocks, I changed my course. The long stretch back to my truck would take time, but I’d walked farther.
21
Paige started the morning early and went to see Ben. She told Ben what she’d uncovered about the De Palmas. He was less than cooperative but eventually explained his part in the business and how they’d helped him survive—and why he hadn’t reported the crime. The state would’ve return him to Tom McCall.
She could see his point, but the explanation wouldn’t help with the murder case. If anything, it made the motive stronger. Since the beating presented so savagely, he couldn’t get by with self-defense. The overkill factor ruled it out. That and the purchase of the bat.
She parked the Escalade and entered the PAB before eight. As she walked in the door, she spied Curtis Sampson move toward the elevator. She slowed her pace and hoped he didn’t see her. After he entered the lift and turned around, she quickly stepped out before the doors closed.
She searched for a bathroom, any place to disappear but didn’t see one handy.
“What the hell are you doing sniffing around here?” Curtis demanded.
“I made an appointment. I don’t believe you personally own the building.”
“You know I’ll find out where you go. Who you see. You’re not about to screw up my case. It’s airtight. We have Ben McCall, whether you like it or not.”
“If you do, I couldn’t possibly impact your case.” She stared at him.
“I don’t trust you. Your kind is always up to something.”
“My kind? What kind am I?”
“A female who trades on her good looks to get exactly what she wants. You may have had Sonny eating from your hand, but not me. I know you’re up to something. I intend to find out what.”
She nodded in agreement. “Well, I certainly know I can’t fool you. Don’t want to be late for my appointment.” She walked to the elevators, caught the door before it closed, and got off on the third floor. She pushed the door to the stairs open and went two flights down. When another lift came, she rode up to the correct level.
As she exited, she saw Grace holding a cup of coffee. The aroma smelled wonderful. Too bad she couldn’t stand the taste of the stuff. “You’re up bright and early.”
“Yeah. I couldn’t sleep. I know what they plan to do. I’m a little uneasy about it.”
“You know you don’t need to do it. No one would think less of you if you refused.” She saw the dark circles under Grace’s eyes.
“But I would. More women would die. I don’t think I could live with that either.” The detective gave a halfhearted smile, took a sip from her beverage, and grimaced.
“Listen. Don’t do it unless they devise a foolproof way to protect you. It’s not worth it.”
“I know, but . . .” She shrugged.
They entered the task force room and let the door close. LT and Trin talked in the small office attached to the main room. Buck walked their way, but she didn’t see Vern. She figured he always arrived late.
They came out from the office and glanced around. The door to the hall opened and two stragglers joined them. One was Vern. LT moved to the front and prepared to talk to the group.
“If our guy keeps to his schedule, we could receive a report on a new victim sometime this morning. Tillman, Dowdy, Stone. I want you on it once the call comes in. Continue to fill in the murder book and work the leads. The rest of us will prepare and plan for tonight.”
She glanced at Vern and Buck, who tipped their heads in return.
“Helston, I’m sure you’ve figured out why we chose you for the team. You’re the perp’s type. I hope you’ll agree to walk the streets once again. We need to lure him out so we can catch the bastard.”
She nodded.
“Thanks. I figured I could depend on you. Men, this brave woman is counting on us to have her six. We need to safeguard every contingency. It’s our job to think of every possibility and cover it. Don’t miss anything. If you have a question of any kind, voice it. Everyone here will work to bring her home unscathed tonight and every night until we catch this sicko.”
Paige read the murder book through on the first two victims. She studied the crime scene photos again. She’d pulled up the third MB, when the call came in. Someone had discovered the latest dead prostitute.
“We expected this call to come. Let’s go.” Vern got up from his computer and grabbed his jacket.
Trin went with them, and it surprised her. The four of them hurried out the door. They waited for the elevator, and she motioned to Trin. “I figured you’d stay and help the others on the task force.”
“I want to study the fresh crime scenes. I think my time is better served this way. I need to keep up with the changes while they occur because he will evolve.” The elevator dinged. They stepped inside and began the downward journey.
When they arrived at the crime scene, the deceased lay face down in a shallow ditch two blocks off Laurel Canyon Boulevard. Only a single muscle attached the head to the torso. The exposed bone from the spinal column crawled with blow flies. Coagulated blood covered the surrounding area.
A purse lay three feet away, covered with blood spatter. SIDs took photos, and Vern pulled the driver’s license from it. “Sylvia Striker, twenty-nine. She’s a local.” He handed the identification to the crime scene tech, who added it to the plastic bag she held out.
“Shit. I spoke to her the night we canvassed. She must have worn a wig. Her hair was bright red then.”
She glanced at Buck for a moment and continued to search the scene for anything that might give them additional information on the perp. She stepped closer to Trin. “His rage continues to grow.”
“Yeah. He has exploded out of control. It’ll only get worse until we stop him.”
“I figured as much. I could go out there, too. We need to take him down.” She walked over to Buck. “I want to go out on the street. A friend can get me a wig and clothes from where he works. We need to stop this guy tonight. With two of us out there, we can cover a lot more territory.”
Buck finally looked up from the crime scene at her. “I figured you’d want in on the action. I already asked. LT said no way. Ain’t gonna happen.”
She chewed her bottom lip, biting back the argument she wanted to make. Grace shouldn’t have to face this alone. But for now, she didn’t have a choice.
She wandered away from the group, turning over possible ways to convince them she should go out tonight. She spotted a cigarette butt thrown into the ditch. “Buck, I need a tech over here with a sample bag.”
“What have you got?” Buck asked.
“A cigarette butt. Appears fresh. It’s a Camel.”
“Son of a bitch. DNA, if it’s his.” Vern turned toward Buck and grinned.
The tech brought a camera with him, laid down a marker, and snapped off several shots. He picked up the evidence with his gloved hand and bagged it.
She continued to sweep the area for anything additional and considered the amount of force needed to take a person’s head off. He must have massive muscles. A longshoreman or a construction worker who lifted heavy objects. The coastline of California must have millions of workers that are powerful from hard labor. To weed through them would take too long. The DNA, if the stub contained any, might give them a hit.
Trin walked up beside her. “Great find.”
“Not so much. The techs didn’t search the area I worked. It doesn’t matter. I’m glad we found it.”
“If the DNA gives us a match or produces a family member, everything could change quickly.”
“Yeah, it could. I’m thinking a dock worker or someone who does a lot of physical labor. He about took the head off with one blow. Not everyone’s that strong. What do you think?”
“You’re probably right. A job with hard manual lifting is logical. California has many ports. Doesn’t narrow it down too much, but it’s a good place to start.” Trin yawned and rubbed his jaw. “Lost too much sleep lately.”
He walked beside her as they moved back closer to the street. They strolled along the asphalt and hunted for brake fluid, a leaky transmission, skid marks, but found nothing.
“His anger gets so intense, you’d think he would mess up and leave trace,” she said.
“If we ever find his vehicle, it will contain plenty, but I don’t think he’s with them long once he gets them outside of it.”
“Do you know why he kills them? Or does he need a reason?” She stopped to stare at him.
“In his mind there’s a reason. We may never know what his motive is. The way he’s escalated, it may take death to stop him.”
“Suicide by cop.”
Trin nodded.
They left the uniforms to canvass the neighborhood for any witnesses. Finding someone who’d seen anything would be a long shot, but they had to try. The four detectives regathered and decided to go back to the office and work what evidence they had.
Grace walked up to the desk where she sat. “Anything different at the new scene?”
“We found a cigarette butt and hope for DNA. You know how it goes. Wait for results and see.”
“The way I hear it, you found the evidence.”
“Dumb luck I guess. Besides, someone else might have left it there at any time. Who knows if it’s the perp’s.”
“You’re way too nice for a detective. Why did you come out here to work this case?”
“I don’t want to bore you. It’s a long story. I want to keep a low profile so they don’t run me off, but it revolves around my captain who asked a favor. We have to do what they want.” She shrugged. “What happened while we were out?”
“Not much. They found me a slutty outfit with shoes to match. You know, show everything for the team.”
“I can’t say I do know what you mean. I went straight from patrol to homicide. I never dressed like a pro. I’m not sure I would know how. Hank protected me from the time I was young.”
“Who’s Hank?”
“He raised me from ten years old. My mom passed away the year before from cancer. My father died the next year in a shootout. Hank was his partner. He saved me from the system.”
“You must love him a lot.”
“Oh yeah. He’s the type it’s difficult to come out and say it to. But definitely.”
“Yeah. My old man’s the same way. He’s on the job, too. Look at me, I pretend I’m the son he never had.”
“Not exactly the same, but I know how you the feel. So what time do we go out tonight?”
“Everybody should be in place by seven. I enter the scene by seven thirty. You’re part of my back up?” Grace said.
“If LT doesn’t say no. I wish I was on the street with you, but he won’t let me do that. Buck already asked.”
“The paperwork would take forever if anything happened to you. I can see why he wouldn’t, but I appreciate the offer.”
“Did you eat anything? I haven’t since breakfast.”
Grace shook her head.
“Let’s go see what we can find.” She turned to leave and remembered today was Wednesday. The first time she’d missed her weekly visit to the cabin after she died there. She stopped for a few seconds and gazed out the window while the sun shot tangerine streaks into the sky. Several clouds burned a brilliant fuchsia. Her breath caught as she realized how glad she was to be here to see it. Whatever happened tonight, she wanted to be around to see plenty more sunsets.
Paige lifted her phone to read the text Sonya sent her. The kid was still bored. She pushed three and hit enter. Eric Burdon’s guttural voice sang When I Was Young on her phone as she waited for Sonya to pick up. She smiled. If the girl found out, she wouldn’t leave her alone about the music ringtone that matched her number. The kid was an early diva in the making. Somehow, the little pot smoker wormed her way in. Sonya gave up the weed in the process, which was the whole point in the first place.
Josh paced his room. He had to do it. How could he safeguard her if he didn’t? The furniture’s clean lines melted into the background as he continued to put off the unavoidable. If she woke up, he’d be in deep trouble. She came here to do him the favor.
He ran his fingers through his hair and sat on his bed only to get up again. If something happened to her, he wouldn’t make it through this time. After those white panties fell out of her suitcase, her cheeks blushed, and he knew she was the one. He never believed it would happen to him. No one ever came close.
She was more beautiful than any woman he’d ever seen. Smart. Athletic. She didn’t know she brightened every room she entered. But her prickly ways and standoffish attitude wore him down.
His only hope remained she didn’t wake up, but her sleep habits were worse than his. He moved over to his walk-in closet and opened the door. His old duffle bag lay in the back corner. He rummaged inside until he found the small case that contained what he needed. He hadn’t used it in over a decade.
He took the syringe apart and went into the bathroom to get the rubbing alcohol, the ether, and a big gauze pad. The clock on his dresser showed the time. Now or never. She needed time for the drug to wear off before morning. Gauging the correct dosage was the tricky part.
He moved silently through the house to her door and placed his ear close. For several minutes he listened. No sound. He turned the handle, entered, and used the stealth he’d learned long ago. He pushed the curtains back and enough moonlight came into the room for him to finish what he started.
He took the lid off the ether, and tilted the metal container into the gauze pad. Quickly, he placed it over her mouth and nose. She coughed once while he counted the time in his head like he trained to do so many years before. Her body seemed to relax more as the fumes overtook her. After he thumped her shoulder with no response, he took the syringe and inserted the tracking device under her skin, right below her shoulder blade. She couldn’t know about the chip he planted. If she ever did, she’d never forgive him, but he had to protect her.
She stirred and turned toward him. Her eyes slowly opened. “Bobby? Don’t leave me.” She dragged her tongue across her bottom lip, reached up to put her arms around him, and pulled him down to her. The movements were awkward because of the drug, but she still found her target. Their lips barely touched before she collapsed in his arms and slumber took her again.
Who the hell is Bobby? He wanted to hate him, but she’d spoken of losing him. He hoped the man no longer remained in her life.
He wanted more than anything to climb in bed beside her. If nothing else, to hold her through the night. But he knew if he ever got that close, he wouldn’t be able to stop at simply holding her. He stood and watched her stillness in the faded moonlight.
As much as he wanted to stay, he left her sleeping. Longing accompanied him through the kitchen and down the hall. Emptiness overwhelmed him once he entered his solitary room. Exhaustion overtook him, and he crawled into his bed, knowing his own nightmares would visit before morning.
James Silsby’s body jerked, startling him awake. He listened intently for whatever had woken him. He watched the Con-Haul parking lot. Only an old Ford truck and twelve Con-Haul rigs lined up in a row, not his guy. He glanced at his watch. Three thirty-five in the morning. He yawned. His man probably wouldn’t show up until daylight.
He reached for a cigarette from his pack on the dash. He lit it, inhaled deeply, and sat a little longer. Uneasiness crept over him, but the urge to relieve himself pushed every other idea away. He opened the door and got out, shaking his tingling legs to get the feeling back.
“Why are you following me?” A voice from the dark spoke right before something slammed him in the stomach.
His vision blurred, and he doubled over. “What the hell!”
He went for the knife strapped to his ankle but heard his wrist crack. Excruciating pain followed. His sight cleared, only to shoot terror through his veins. His hand dangled from his arm, barely attached. He understood he was already a dead man, but his reflexes attempted to get him on his feet and away from the danger.
“Answer me,” the voice commanded.
But James couldn’t focus on anything but his sister and the agony that radiated from his wounds. He shook his head to bring about rational thought so he could talk.
“Hell, I don’t care why anymore,” the shadow said.
James smelled the fear in his sweat, saw the bat swing toward him, and heard the air swish before the pain exploded through his neck.
I heard air whoosh out of him, and he fell to the ground. What the crap. Two men followed me several days in a row. Nothing made sense, but I couldn’t leave the body here across the street from Con-Haul. Eventually, the police would get involved. I didn’t want them to snoop around this area.
The interior light fell across the dead man’s face when I opened the passenger door to the old Chevy. I recognized the man as the brother of a young girl from Texas I picked up and brought to my old man.
The bastard had trained me well. I could always pick ’em for him. He taught me exactly what he liked in a female. Early on I learned no one argued with him. While I served him, I found young beautiful women for him to rape and kill.
I shook the notion away and looked inside the car to see if there was anything that might tell me why this guy had been following me. I didn’t understand why I’d become so popular with white men. At least this guy wouldn’t follow me anymore.
I took my gloves off and dug through the piles made from food wrappers. Nothing pointed in my direction. I grabbed an old sack and stuffed the loose papers inside it. The prints on the bag would go with me once I left.
I put my pigskin gloves back on, unlocked the trunk, and shoved the body inside. I hunted for anything else that might leave the cops a trail. I went through the dash and found only his registration for the car and a flashlight. I checked again to make sure. Nothing.
This time I drove a mile and a half before I pulled into a parking lot. In the past, I’d bought groceries here and knew this place didn’t have working cameras. I left the key in the ignition and walked away in the opposite direction from Con-Haul. After two blocks, I changed my course. The long stretch back to my truck would take time, but I’d walked farther.
21
Paige started the morning early and went to see Ben. She told Ben what she’d uncovered about the De Palmas. He was less than cooperative but eventually explained his part in the business and how they’d helped him survive—and why he hadn’t reported the crime. The state would’ve return him to Tom McCall.
She could see his point, but the explanation wouldn’t help with the murder case. If anything, it made the motive stronger. Since the beating presented so savagely, he couldn’t get by with self-defense. The overkill factor ruled it out. That and the purchase of the bat.
She parked the Escalade and entered the PAB before eight. As she walked in the door, she spied Curtis Sampson move toward the elevator. She slowed her pace and hoped he didn’t see her. After he entered the lift and turned around, she quickly stepped out before the doors closed.
She searched for a bathroom, any place to disappear but didn’t see one handy.
“What the hell are you doing sniffing around here?” Curtis demanded.
“I made an appointment. I don’t believe you personally own the building.”
“You know I’ll find out where you go. Who you see. You’re not about to screw up my case. It’s airtight. We have Ben McCall, whether you like it or not.”
“If you do, I couldn’t possibly impact your case.” She stared at him.
“I don’t trust you. Your kind is always up to something.”
“My kind? What kind am I?”
“A female who trades on her good looks to get exactly what she wants. You may have had Sonny eating from your hand, but not me. I know you’re up to something. I intend to find out what.”
She nodded in agreement. “Well, I certainly know I can’t fool you. Don’t want to be late for my appointment.” She walked to the elevators, caught the door before it closed, and got off on the third floor. She pushed the door to the stairs open and went two flights down. When another lift came, she rode up to the correct level.
As she exited, she saw Grace holding a cup of coffee. The aroma smelled wonderful. Too bad she couldn’t stand the taste of the stuff. “You’re up bright and early.”
“Yeah. I couldn’t sleep. I know what they plan to do. I’m a little uneasy about it.”
“You know you don’t need to do it. No one would think less of you if you refused.” She saw the dark circles under Grace’s eyes.
“But I would. More women would die. I don’t think I could live with that either.” The detective gave a halfhearted smile, took a sip from her beverage, and grimaced.
“Listen. Don’t do it unless they devise a foolproof way to protect you. It’s not worth it.”
“I know, but . . .” She shrugged.
They entered the task force room and let the door close. LT and Trin talked in the small office attached to the main room. Buck walked their way, but she didn’t see Vern. She figured he always arrived late.
They came out from the office and glanced around. The door to the hall opened and two stragglers joined them. One was Vern. LT moved to the front and prepared to talk to the group.
“If our guy keeps to his schedule, we could receive a report on a new victim sometime this morning. Tillman, Dowdy, Stone. I want you on it once the call comes in. Continue to fill in the murder book and work the leads. The rest of us will prepare and plan for tonight.”
She glanced at Vern and Buck, who tipped their heads in return.
“Helston, I’m sure you’ve figured out why we chose you for the team. You’re the perp’s type. I hope you’ll agree to walk the streets once again. We need to lure him out so we can catch the bastard.”
She nodded.
“Thanks. I figured I could depend on you. Men, this brave woman is counting on us to have her six. We need to safeguard every contingency. It’s our job to think of every possibility and cover it. Don’t miss anything. If you have a question of any kind, voice it. Everyone here will work to bring her home unscathed tonight and every night until we catch this sicko.”
Paige read the murder book through on the first two victims. She studied the crime scene photos again. She’d pulled up the third MB, when the call came in. Someone had discovered the latest dead prostitute.
“We expected this call to come. Let’s go.” Vern got up from his computer and grabbed his jacket.
Trin went with them, and it surprised her. The four of them hurried out the door. They waited for the elevator, and she motioned to Trin. “I figured you’d stay and help the others on the task force.”
“I want to study the fresh crime scenes. I think my time is better served this way. I need to keep up with the changes while they occur because he will evolve.” The elevator dinged. They stepped inside and began the downward journey.
When they arrived at the crime scene, the deceased lay face down in a shallow ditch two blocks off Laurel Canyon Boulevard. Only a single muscle attached the head to the torso. The exposed bone from the spinal column crawled with blow flies. Coagulated blood covered the surrounding area.
A purse lay three feet away, covered with blood spatter. SIDs took photos, and Vern pulled the driver’s license from it. “Sylvia Striker, twenty-nine. She’s a local.” He handed the identification to the crime scene tech, who added it to the plastic bag she held out.
“Shit. I spoke to her the night we canvassed. She must have worn a wig. Her hair was bright red then.”
She glanced at Buck for a moment and continued to search the scene for anything that might give them additional information on the perp. She stepped closer to Trin. “His rage continues to grow.”
“Yeah. He has exploded out of control. It’ll only get worse until we stop him.”
“I figured as much. I could go out there, too. We need to take him down.” She walked over to Buck. “I want to go out on the street. A friend can get me a wig and clothes from where he works. We need to stop this guy tonight. With two of us out there, we can cover a lot more territory.”
Buck finally looked up from the crime scene at her. “I figured you’d want in on the action. I already asked. LT said no way. Ain’t gonna happen.”
She chewed her bottom lip, biting back the argument she wanted to make. Grace shouldn’t have to face this alone. But for now, she didn’t have a choice.
She wandered away from the group, turning over possible ways to convince them she should go out tonight. She spotted a cigarette butt thrown into the ditch. “Buck, I need a tech over here with a sample bag.”
“What have you got?” Buck asked.
“A cigarette butt. Appears fresh. It’s a Camel.”
“Son of a bitch. DNA, if it’s his.” Vern turned toward Buck and grinned.
The tech brought a camera with him, laid down a marker, and snapped off several shots. He picked up the evidence with his gloved hand and bagged it.
She continued to sweep the area for anything additional and considered the amount of force needed to take a person’s head off. He must have massive muscles. A longshoreman or a construction worker who lifted heavy objects. The coastline of California must have millions of workers that are powerful from hard labor. To weed through them would take too long. The DNA, if the stub contained any, might give them a hit.
Trin walked up beside her. “Great find.”
“Not so much. The techs didn’t search the area I worked. It doesn’t matter. I’m glad we found it.”
“If the DNA gives us a match or produces a family member, everything could change quickly.”
“Yeah, it could. I’m thinking a dock worker or someone who does a lot of physical labor. He about took the head off with one blow. Not everyone’s that strong. What do you think?”
“You’re probably right. A job with hard manual lifting is logical. California has many ports. Doesn’t narrow it down too much, but it’s a good place to start.” Trin yawned and rubbed his jaw. “Lost too much sleep lately.”
He walked beside her as they moved back closer to the street. They strolled along the asphalt and hunted for brake fluid, a leaky transmission, skid marks, but found nothing.
“His anger gets so intense, you’d think he would mess up and leave trace,” she said.
“If we ever find his vehicle, it will contain plenty, but I don’t think he’s with them long once he gets them outside of it.”
“Do you know why he kills them? Or does he need a reason?” She stopped to stare at him.
“In his mind there’s a reason. We may never know what his motive is. The way he’s escalated, it may take death to stop him.”
“Suicide by cop.”
Trin nodded.
They left the uniforms to canvass the neighborhood for any witnesses. Finding someone who’d seen anything would be a long shot, but they had to try. The four detectives regathered and decided to go back to the office and work what evidence they had.
Grace walked up to the desk where she sat. “Anything different at the new scene?”
“We found a cigarette butt and hope for DNA. You know how it goes. Wait for results and see.”
“The way I hear it, you found the evidence.”
“Dumb luck I guess. Besides, someone else might have left it there at any time. Who knows if it’s the perp’s.”
“You’re way too nice for a detective. Why did you come out here to work this case?”
“I don’t want to bore you. It’s a long story. I want to keep a low profile so they don’t run me off, but it revolves around my captain who asked a favor. We have to do what they want.” She shrugged. “What happened while we were out?”
“Not much. They found me a slutty outfit with shoes to match. You know, show everything for the team.”
“I can’t say I do know what you mean. I went straight from patrol to homicide. I never dressed like a pro. I’m not sure I would know how. Hank protected me from the time I was young.”
“Who’s Hank?”
“He raised me from ten years old. My mom passed away the year before from cancer. My father died the next year in a shootout. Hank was his partner. He saved me from the system.”
“You must love him a lot.”
“Oh yeah. He’s the type it’s difficult to come out and say it to. But definitely.”
“Yeah. My old man’s the same way. He’s on the job, too. Look at me, I pretend I’m the son he never had.”
“Not exactly the same, but I know how you the feel. So what time do we go out tonight?”
“Everybody should be in place by seven. I enter the scene by seven thirty. You’re part of my back up?” Grace said.
“If LT doesn’t say no. I wish I was on the street with you, but he won’t let me do that. Buck already asked.”
“The paperwork would take forever if anything happened to you. I can see why he wouldn’t, but I appreciate the offer.”
“Did you eat anything? I haven’t since breakfast.”
Grace shook her head.
“Let’s go see what we can find.” She turned to leave and remembered today was Wednesday. The first time she’d missed her weekly visit to the cabin after she died there. She stopped for a few seconds and gazed out the window while the sun shot tangerine streaks into the sky. Several clouds burned a brilliant fuchsia. Her breath caught as she realized how glad she was to be here to see it. Whatever happened tonight, she wanted to be around to see plenty more sunsets.
Paige lifted her phone to read the text Sonya sent her. The kid was still bored. She pushed three and hit enter. Eric Burdon’s guttural voice sang When I Was Young on her phone as she waited for Sonya to pick up. She smiled. If the girl found out, she wouldn’t leave her alone about the music ringtone that matched her number. The kid was an early diva in the making. Somehow, the little pot smoker wormed her way in. Sonya gave up the weed in the process, which was the whole point in the first place.
