Deadly Consequences (12 page)

Sam sighed heavily, wishing she could pawn him off on someone else. She wasn’t in the mood to listen to a tirade about the animals. Keeping her tone crisp she asked,
“What do you need?”

He grabbed hold of her arm, steering her out of the café. Once outside, Thorpe cast a wary look at their surroundings. “I have some concerns,” he whispered, voice barely audible.

The heat scorched her face, making her feel as if she’d stepped into an inferno. Blinking the sweat from her eyes, she waited for Thorpe to continue, but he stood there, looking at her expectantly .Stifling her frustration, she took a deep breath. “Would you care to share them with me?”

“Yes, yes, of course.” His head bobbed up and down. “I’ve held my tongue as long as I can, and frankly I was relieved when you made an arrest. I thought that would be the end of all the commotion, but I suppose that was wishful thinking on my part.”

He lapsed into silence, waiting for her to acknowledge him. “Go on,” she prodded.

“Your officers have searched all night and come up with no new…discoveries. Is it really necessary to have brought in those dogs?” He shivered delicately. “This is not a situation we’re equipped to deal with.”

“By dogs you mean our canine unit?” Sam asked.

“Yes, yes, exactly. The barking and growling is upsetting to our animals, as is this entire search, to be blunt. I’m afraid I must ask you to call off the dogs, so to speak, no pun intended.” Thorpe thrust out his chest, perhaps to suggest he had the authority to make the demand.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Mr. Thorpe. The investigation is still ongoing. The canine unit will help us expedite the search, and,” she added, anticipating his objection, “get us out of your hair that much sooner, which, I’m sure you’ll agree, is the best case scenario for your animals.”

Thorpe sighed heavily and began pacing. “Yes, yes, of course.” He extracted the wrinkled bandana from his pocket, dabbing at his upper lip. His gaze traveled to the officers moving in and out of the café before settling on a nearby tree, inclining his head in that direction. “May we speak more privately?”

Sam ground her teeth, wanting to be done with him. “Five minutes, Mr. Thorpe, that’s all the time I can spare.”

She followed him towards an elegant shade tree, just off the path. Thorpe’s eyes darted back and forth before he nervously licked his lips. “I need a moment,” he apologized, glancing at his sweaty palms. “I hesitate to speak ill of a zoo employee, but under the circumstances…”

He’d finally piqued her interest. “If you have suspicions, it’s your duty to report them, she said.”

“Yes, yes…I realize.” He closed his eyes, swallowing hard. “I would have come forward immediately but I’d heard from Detective Lombardo that you’d made an arrest.”

“Go on, Mr. Thorpe.” Sam wanted to throttle the man for his annoying tendency of not continuing his end of the conversation until prompted.

He covered his face with his hands, shaking his head. “What to do, what to do.”

“You already know the answer or we wouldn’t be standing here.”

He ran his hand over thinning hair, bobbing his head. “Yes, yes, you’re right. As I was making my rounds, I noticed a man near the reptile house. He stayed in the shadows for the longest time. When he finally stepped out into the open, I could see his clothes seemed to be covered in mud, and he looked like he’d been in a fight. I didn’t think too much of it at the time. I’d assumed he was part of the search, and the heat accounted for his appearance.”

Sam’s lips tightened as she listened. “Is there a point to this?”

“Yes, yes.” Thorpe twisted his hands together. “You have to understand, since the man was wearing a zoo security jacket, I’m hesitant to point a finger, but in retrospect…it’s possible some of the stains I saw may have been blood.”

Sam’s head jerked up. “Did you recognize him?”

“I did.” Thorpe exhaled slowly, meeting her gaze. “The man I saw in the shadows was Victor Vasquez.”

They had another suspect.

Alec rolled up the blueprint of the reptile house Hannah provided, shoving it in his pocket. A call went out over the radio’s requesting information on Victor Vasquez’s whereabouts. From all indications, William Thorpe was the last person to see him.

Sam tossed Lombardo a t-shirt they’d recovered from Victor’s locker. “Let’s use the dogs.” She drew her weapon, checking to make sure it was loaded. Giving her team a quick nod, she said. “Let’s do this.”

They fanned out across the perimeter, uniformed officers surrounding the building. The dogs went wild, picking up a scent. “Stay close,” she instructed the canine unit. “We’ll take it from here.”

“Basement,” Sam mouthed, as they headed into the building, Once inside, she shivered, staring into the cold-flat eyes of an alligator.

“Ah, Sweet Frickin’ Jesus,” Lombardo swore, clamping his hand on her shoulder. “I got one of the victims right here.”

Rafe gagged and turned away, covering his mouth with his hand. Heart pounding with dread, Sam followed Lombardo’s gaze. In the far corner of the glass-enclosed cage, a gator was chewing on breakfast. A woman’s fingers dangled between its blood stained teeth for an instant before disappearing into its mouth. Bile splashed in the back of her throat. She quickly looked away, sickened by the enormity of Vasquez’s cruelty.

“Now we know why he chose the reptile house,” Alec said. “Easy disposal.”

In the end, even if Vasquez got the death penalty, he would never endure the level of pain he’d inflicted on his victims. Her expression hardened. “Let’s get this sonofabitch.”

“Frickin’ A,” Lombardo said. “Guy resists, I say we shoot to kill.”

Sam knew she should say something in response to Lombardo’s comment, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. If Vasquez put up a fight, they’d do what they had to do. Weapons drawn, they hurried down the concrete stairs, keeping their backs to the wall as they entered the short hallway. The basement spanned the length of the reptile house. Sam jerked her head to the right, indicating she and Alec would take that side.

Lombardo gave her a curt nod, heading left with Rafe.

Sam exhaled, leaning against the cold, concrete wall. She slipped her gun into her bag, wiping sweaty palms on her dress before drawing it again.

Alec looked at her, understanding what was bothering her. “This isn’t your fault.”

“Yes, it is. Maybe I was too late to save the first two women, but I’m responsible for Cassie.”

“Don’t go down that road, Sam,” he warned. “It will trip you up. I keep telling you, don’t make it personal.”

He was right but she couldn’t help thinking of her sister. A bad call by a good cop could make the difference between life and death. “Our job is personal. It has to be or the sonofabitches win. Somebody has to give a damn.”

She crept into the darkness before he could answer. Up ahead, they heard the sound of water dripping. Alec’s breath was on the back of her neck, as they inched forward. They reached a closed door. She exchanged a look with Alec. He reached for the knob as she leveled her gun.

SAM entered first; extending her weapon, ready to shoot. Her gaze swept the room. She prayed she would hear a cry or a moan, anything to indicate Cassie was alive. The only sound was the steady drip of a faucet coming from an old laundry style sink mounted to a wall to the right.

Alec hugged the concrete wall, arms bent, gun drawn, and moved to her left. The stench inside was unbearable, a mixture of human waste, blood and fear.
Sam fumbled for her Maglight, switching it on with shaking fingers.

This was his room, his killing field.

Sam’s gaze traveled across the dark space, feet sticking to the wet floor as she crept deeper into the room. Blood puddled the floor, spattering the walls, and ceiling coating them a grizzly shade of red. She knew instinctively that most cops finished out their careers without ever encountering this kind of evil.

“Alec, over here.” A pulley hung from the ceiling, a worn, bloody rope dangling from its center. Two metal tables stood in the middle of the room, fashioned so Vasquez could stretch out the victim’s arms and legs, making amputation easier. Long leather belts hung from the tables, used to strap down his victims. Sickened, Sam moved the beam onto the second table, heart stopping for a long anguishing moment A cart stood beside it, holding a spent syringe, a small vile, an assortment of knives, a small axe and an electric saw.

His tools.

“Alec,” she whispered. An empty chair sat in a corner, heavy ropes attached to the arms and legs. Cassie had been tied to the chair; she knew it with every fiber of her being, tied to it, waiting her turn.

They were too late.

Her gaze flew back to the cart. A cheap tiara hung from the edge. She picked it up, turning it over in her hands. Blood splatters colored the cheap glass. The design and shape were different from the tiara Cassie wore. Sam’s heart started to thump wildly in her chest. “Alec, we have to go. Now.”

“Hold on .I’ve got something,” he shouted back. “Man down.” Alec crouched over a body, wedged halfway beneath the sink, feeling for a pulse. “He’s alive. I have a heartbeat.

“Ten to one it’s our suspect, Victor Vasquez.”

Sam tore into the café, heading to Hannah’s table. The UNSUB finally tripped himself up, and she was going to nail his ass to the wall. “Give me the pictures.”

Hannah stared up at her with startled, blood shot eyes. “What pictures?” she slurred.

Sam slapped her hand on the table. “The reunion pictures. You had them a little while ago.”

“Oh, those,” Hannah shuddered, waving her hand in a dismissive gesture. “I dumped them somewhere behind the bar. I don’t want to see them again. What do you want those for anyway?” She called over her shoulder as they hurried towards the bar.

Ignoring her, Sam searched through the clutter, knocking empty cans and dirty plates to the floor.

“Here, got them.” Alec said, passing a stack to Sam. “What are we looking for?”

“Our two victims are in these pictures. Check the women’s feet and see if you recognize the shoes.” She handed half the stack Alec gave her to Lombardo, not ready to tip her hand. She’d already been wrong once. Cassie’s life depended on her being right this time “You,” she said to Lombardo, “see if you spot a zoo employee in the background of any these pictures.”

Sam yanked the blueprint of the zoo’s buildings from Alec’s pocket, spreading it out on the bar. The Lion House and the Café both boasted full basements. She rubbed her forehead, so did a number of other structures, but her gut told her she’d find him in one of the older buildings.

“Sam,” Lombardo slapped two photos in front of her. “I think I found our vics.”

She pressed her hands on the bar, studying the pictures. Lombardo pointed towards the shoes two of the women were wearing. “They look like a match to me.”

Sam’s eyes filled with tears she quickly brushed away. Two women in the prime of their lives, sharing a happy moment with old friends, within hours, both would suffer a horrific death at the hands of a madman. Her nails pressed into the palms of her hands, feeling her blood turn to ice. Their deaths were a prime example of life and death intersecting when the wrong paths crossed. Like Melanie, her sister, who’d gotten involved with a mysterious stranger, months before vanishing from their lives.