Busted (7 page)

“Sweetie,” the woman said, “we’re going to pull off the fabric, okay? Then we’re going to slip a towel between you and your friend here, and see if we can’t get you cleaned up a little.”

“You can hold on, princess,” Joe whispered. “Just let me breathe once in a while, right?”

The girl nodded shyly. Cleaning her off took longer than Joe expected. The paramedics knew what they were doing, but she wouldn’t let go of Joe, not even for a moment, and that made it tougher. It hadn’t helped that the front of his shirt was covered in blood that had dried enough to be tacky.

Still, she was willing to let one arm go at a time, and they managed to get her clean and in scrubs, with a towel between her and Joe to keep the blood from his shirt from getting back on her. They almost had her letting go when they got interrupted.

“Joe,” growled a voice from behind him. Detective Russell’s voice. It wasn’t a happy voice. He had to suppress a shudder – he didn’t think his charge would deal too well with that. As it was she tensed up at Steve’s approach. “Who have you found?”

Joe turned and smiled as best he could. The girl’s arms had tightened back around his neck, choking him a little.

“Sweetheart,” he said, shifting her so he could breathe. “This is my good friend Detective Russell. Can you say hi?”

She looked out from the crook of his neck where she was hiding. “Hi,” she mumbled.

“Who is she, Joe?”

Joe shook his head. “Don’t know. Found her over next to the building. Behind the rhododendrons.”

Steve scowled. “Her parents—”

“I don’t think so,” Joe said. He nudged the bloody remains of her nightgown with his foot. The paramedics had bagged it up and set it on the floor out of the way. “Those were hers.”

“Jesus,” Steve whispered. An image of the bloody carpet from inside the apartment flashed through his head. “Is she okay?”

“Physically she looks fine, Detective,” said the blonde paramedic. “A few scrapes from the bushes, but that’s all.”

“Hey, Princess,” Steve said. The girl looked at him, giving him the first good look at her. She looked familiar, altogether too familiar, like one of the kids he’d seen in the pictures in the apartment. He put on as happy a face as he could manage. He needed to ask her some questions, and there wasn’t a good way to do it. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Stephanie,” she said.

“And is your last name McManus?” Steve winced as she nodded. The complex manager had been pretty clear. There was only one McManus family, and as far as the man knew there weren’t any relatives.

“Can you tell me where your mommy is?”

The girl shook her head. Joe could feel her body go tense and start to tremble again.

“Earlier, in your apartment, something happened. To your mom and brother and sister. I can help, Stephanie, if you tell me what happened.”

Stephanie had started trembling as Steve spoke. “Mommmy!” she screamed, then let loose with a wail and started to thrash around. Joe almost lost his grip on her as she flailed, catching Steve with one of her feet.

The blonde paramedic grabbed a syringe from out of a drawer on the side of the ambulance. Her partner held Stephanie’s left arm still as she slid the needle in and emptied the contents. Stephanie went limp and quiet as the tranquilizer took effect and she quickly fell asleep.

Joe glared at Steve as he set Stephanie down on the gurney that was folded up on the floor of the ambulance. What Steve had done was heartless and cruel and left Joe so furious he was almost shaking.

“What was that? What the
fuck
were you thinking?” Joe almost shouted at Steve as soon as the ambulance doors closed behind him.

“I was thinking I have three corpses, a murderer on the loose, and one potential witness,” Steve snapped back.

“She’s just a kid! She was covered in blood and saw something that freaked her out. Wasn’t that enough? She doesn’t need you digging it all back up again.”

“That something was her mother, brother, and sister getting carved up, Joe.”

Joe’s eyes widened. “Shit! Then the
last
thing she needs is you digging at it. Isn’t it enough that she had to see it once without you making her do it again?”

“Oh yeah? How many more bodies is her peace of mind worth, Joe? One? Two? Five?”

That set Joe back. It was logical, too logical for how he was feeling, and it left him defensive. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” While it might not have been what he meant, it was what he’d asked for, and he was starting to realize it.

“It’s what you got. Her family is
dead
, Joe. Dead and she saw it, and I can’t make that any better. All I can do is try and make sure it doesn’t happen to anyone else.”

“But now? Can’t it wait?” Joe almost whined.

“No, it can’t. She’ll forget the details, and this one… If it wasn’t his first it won’t be his last unless he’s stopped.”

There was something in Steve’s voice that made Joe shudder. He wasn’t sure what it was and wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“Excuse me, Detective Russell?”

Joe and Steve both turned. There was a middle-aged woman standing behind them. She was a little grey, a little thick, and a little weathered.

“Hi Maryanne,” Steve said. He was glad for the interruption, and so was Joe.

“Officer Davidson called. Said you had a girl?”

“Afraid so,” Steve said. “Sedated. Her family was killed this morning.”

Maryanne sighed. “You’ll fill me in on the paperwork later?”

“Don’t I always?” Steve gave her the fakest innocent look Joe had ever seen.

She just snorted and gave him a half-amused, half-disgusted look. She spoke to the paramedics for a moment then walked back to her car as they hopped in the back of the ambulance. The driver revved the engine and pulled out.

Joe stood up and watched Maryanne drive off, following the ambulance. He let out a breath and slumped. The tension that had built between them had melted, leaving him feeling tired, dirty, and helpless.

“I think I need a shower. A really long, hot shower. And a beer. You want a beer, Steve?”

“That,” Steve said, “sounds like a really good idea right now.”

* * *

Joe was still getting the blood off his hands when Steve pulled up in front of his apartment. He’d been trying to get it off since they left and it was still there, under his nails and between the ridges of his fingers.

“Gah, this stuff gets everywhere,” Joe said as he pitched the wipe, now a light pink, into the trash bag to join the two dozen others he’d used.

“Yeah, it can be pretty bad,” Steve said. “Listen, it was a little late to say anything, but next time… you’ve got to be more careful with blood.”

Joe sighed as he opened the car door. “I know. I even run the safety training classes at work. She was just so scared, Steve.”

“You’ll get tested, right?”

Joe nodded. “I always do, every six months. I’m early, but… Can you let me know if there’s anything I should worry about?”

“I’ll ask the lab to check,” Steve said.

Joe fumbled in his pockets for his keys. “I’m gonna hit the shower. There’s some beer in the ‘fridge – help yourself.”

It was a nice apartment, two bedroom and tastefully decorated. The door opened into the living room. The kitchen was to the left, visible over a bar. A short hallway led off the rooms. At the end of the hall a door opened into a bathroom, the doors on the left and right walls leading to bedrooms. As Steve shut the door the harlequin mask hanging on the back made a little scraping noise as it swayed back and forth.

Steve opened the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of beer, something imported he’d never heard of. There were six more in the door. He debated having one for a moment – he was still on duty. The image of the puddles he’d seen on the carpet flashed in his head. He popped the top off one of the bottles and downed half of it in one gulp.

The kitchen was upscale; real wood cabinets, big sink, and a dishwasher. It looked unused, which matched the takeout cartons in the refrigerator. There were a few forks in the sink, and a couple of glasses on the counter, but there was dust on the stove.

He wandered out to the living room as he heard the sounds of the shower starting.

This room saw more use. The couch was brown leather, worn a little in spots, but supple and well-cared for. There was a pair of matching leather chairs, with matching glass-topped end tables between the chairs and at the end of the couch. The room had a bay window looking out into the wooded back yard of the complex. There were three dream catchers hanging in it, one for each window, with feathers and beads tangled in their threads. Hung on the walls on either side of the bay window were long thin scrolls with writing in a language that Steve didn’t recognize, something elegant and flowing.