Little Belle Gone (12 page)

“Finally! Are we not answering our cell phones anymore? I’ve been trying to reach you two for over an hour!” The anger in his voice and his frantic motion for them to follow him, forced her to push any romantic notions to the back of her mind. As they took the last few turns toward his office, he continued, “There’s been another murder. Looks like the same killer. We are officially dealing with a serial now, though we haven’t released that to the media yet.”

“Another?
Already?
I’ve never heard of a serial killer as methodical as our guy killing again this quickly!” Matt reached his hand back for hers as he spoke and she took it. He squeezed her hand bracingly, knowing that in all likelihood she was about to hear some more very bad news.

Taking a deep breath, she called out to Moreano from the back of their little train, “Do we know who the victims are this time? Where is the scene?” She shored herself up to hear a familiar name or place. So far this killer had gone out of his way to target people she knew, cared about. Despite the fact that the list was abnormally short, there were still names on it that he hadn’t crossed out yet.

“Actually, it looks like this might be our first scene, not our third. The victims are an unknown male and female found in an abandoned house in the Hamptons. By all accounts, the scene looks to be at least two to three weeks old, but we have one of our medical examiners headed there now to collect the bodies. Hopefully we can identify the John and Jane Doe quickly so we can figure out how they relate to our current list.” He finished as he turned through the door of his office. Elizabeth and Matt released their hands with a jerk and moved quickly to the chairs in front of his desk. Strictly speaking, interoffice romance, while not forbidden, was frowned upon. Most people who chose to engage, did so with a considerable level of discretion.

“Are the other crime scene details a match for our two recent homicides? Same M.O., body placement? Are we sure this is our guy?” She was trying to sound professional, collected, but inside she was all in knots, secretly freaking out, wondering if this nameless couple was somehow connected to her like the others. After her parent’s death, she had been shipped off to distant relatives who lived in the Hamptons. Finishing high school there, she had gotten to know quite a few people who called the picturesque sea side town home, at least part-time. Her only comfort just now was that she had spoken with her aunt and uncle less than two days before and that a good friend, the town busy body, had not reported any people disappearing to her during their phone call over a week ago.

“Looks like it. Our cases have been plastered all over the news, so when the locals wandered into the scene, they called us right away. From the details they gave us, it’s definitely our guy. I need you two to head over there this afternoon and take a look, talk to the locals, try to figure out who they might have been, who owns the house they were found in, and how they relate to our case. I expect to have a report before I go home tonight. It’s almost noon, so I suggest you get going.” As they started to stand and leave, Moreano’s nose scrunched. “Wait, maybe before you go, you should take a shower. You two reek. That reminds me, did you find anything interesting in the cistern?” Elizabeth’s eyes snapped to Matthew’s, and for a minute they exchanged a nervous glance, trying to decide what to say. When his phone rang, and, without even so much a wrist flick in their direction, he turned to answer it, they quietly saw themselves out, both sighing with relief at the happy coincidence.

Elizabeth followed Matt to their desks. Despite everything that had happened between them in the last hour, right now they were all business. Exchanging a look, they had come to a silent agreement that they would get back around to them when this was taken care of. Her hands moved quickly as she collected all the information they had managed to gather so far on the two crime scenes they already had, while Matt gathered together some extra evidence bags and a recording device for interviewing any witnesses they might find. Nodding to each other when they had gathered everything they needed, they left for the elevator. Ironically, they found themselves all alone now and too shaken to take advantage of it.

“I think I should take a cab to my place to shower, you head to yours, and then come by and get me. My place is closer to the bridge than yours.” She was trying to sound responsible and rational, but she couldn’t help wondering if he was going to insist that he take her home. Part of her wanted him to, a big part, if she were honest with herself, but the other part knew exactly what that would mean and they couldn’t afford to give in to their personal desires at the moment.

“Sounds reasonable. Just one question...” Elizabeth looked up from the files in her hands to find him drawing very close to her, his face stopping so near to hers that she could feel his eyelashes on her forehead. “How do you know where I live, Liz?” When she gasped he kissed her quickly, winking as he pulled back. His fleeting kiss left her weak, off balance.

Staggering a little, she squared her shoulders. “I checked out your employment file after I was assigned to be your partner.” When he turned to her, a mild look of shock on his face, she chuckled slightly. “What? Don’t pretend you didn’t look at mine.” His look faded into a wicked smile.

“I would have, but someone had already pulled it. Guess you got lucky.” She smiled back at him as the doors opened on the main lobby.

Giving him one last look from the taxi window as it pulled away, she sighed and leaned back into the seat. Her heart felt so full it might pop. Then, remembering where she was headed, the full feeling she had just praised fled from her. Someone she knew, likely cared about, was lying dead in the Hamptons, just waiting for her to come and see them.

Matt could barely concentrate enough to drive without Elizabeth next to him. What was happening to him? He had always been such an independent person and now, just over a week into their partnership, only hours into what might be a relationship, she had become essential to him. She had transformed from the epicenter of all his nervous excitement and distracting passion into the source of all his calm and contentment in a single blissful kiss. His time away from her had become painful and colorless. Speeding up, he decided that the only thing for him to do was hurry back to her.

Conveniently forgetting that he had almost gotten a traffic ticket only a matter minutes earlier, he made it to his building’s parking structure in record time. Tapping his foot impatiently on the elevator floor, he groaned at the time it was taking to reach his thirty-second floor apartment. He had never noticed before how slowly his elevator climbed. He paced back and forth in the small space until the doors opened onto his floor, and he all but ran to his door. Taking a deep breath, he calmed his body and fiddled with the locks. His apartment spread out before him. It was a large set of rooms with a wonderful view of the city skyline, but, honestly, it had always felt empty and cold.

He had very little furniture, and what he did have was firm and uncomfortable. There was no color to be found. Interior design was not his strong suit. The only thing about his place that he truly loved, aside from his massive king sized bed, was his giant TV and his extensive movie collection. For a moment he remembered the cozy, well designed interior of her apartment. It had been warm and comfortable, bathed in color and plush. Even better, had been her entertainment center, almost as impressive as his own. he allowed himself to imagine her curled up on her comfy couch, feet tucked under her, watching an action movie with rapt attention. From there his mind drifted to her, in her apartment, showering at that very moment, and his insides clinched. For a second he allowed the intoxicating fantasy to envelop him before he reluctantly shook it away. She was expecting him.

His shower had been quick, but successful, as he confirmed that he no longer smelled of that horrid cistern anymore. Dressing quickly, he locked his door and made his way back to his car. As he turned out of his parking garage onto the street, his stomach growled loudly. Looking at the dashboard clock, he found that it was just past lunchtime. The drive to the Hamptons was over an hour and they might not get a chance to eat when they got there. Deciding that she would probably be hungry too, he made a detour past a tiny dinner he frequented just blocks from his apartment. He ate there often, as they made what was by far the best burger he had ever tasted. Once inside, he ordered his and stood staring at the menu, trying to decide what to get her. He had seen her eat a few times, but nothing on their menu was on the list of things he knew she liked. Taking a chance, he ordered her the same thing he had ordered for himself. A qualm of doubt made him call out, “no bacon on that last one,” as the counter girl walked away.

Elizabeth smiled warmly at her new doorman as he held the slab of stained and beveled glass, encased in finely carved wood, open for her. Only moments ago she had jumped at the sound of her cell phone ringing, hoping that it was Matt letting her know he was down stairs. The day was sunny and warm, considering the season, as she stepped out onto the sidewalk and looked around for his car. Seeing it parked a little way down the street, she rushed to it and climbed in before he knew she was there. As she closed her door and turned to look at him, she couldn’t help but laugh. He had a napkin tucked into the collar of his shirt like a bib as he was in the grips of hurriedly devouring a delicious smelling hamburger. Catch-up clung temptingly to the corner of his mouth and she wondered, deviously, what would happen if she followed her impulse to lick it off. As his tongue snaked out to flick at the glop, she forced herself to swallow back the whimper in her throat.

“Well, where’s mine? I’m hungry, too!” She was only half serious, intending the remark to tease him more than make him feel guilty, but it was his turn to laugh this time. His mouth still full, he held up a finger and reached into the back seat, producing a sinfully plump bag that smelled of salt and heaven. Her smile was almost evil as she snatched the bag from him. There, cradled inside, and wrapped in red checkered wax paper, was an order of home style fries and what had to be the biggest burger shaped present she had ever seen. As she looked up at him in appreciation, her stomach roared at the prospect of this impending meal. Smiling even wider, he produced, from seemingly nowhere, a large soda cup. Shaking it at her, he took another bite of his own burger. Grabbing the cup and placing it in her cup holder, she quickly pulled the seat-belt around her and set about covering her black, knee-length, skirt with a napkin grease barrier. Tucking the last one into the neck of her blouse as a bib, an imitation of his, and ignoring his snicker, she greedily pulled the wrapped sandwich from the bag and unfolded the paper to reveal her absolute favorite of sinful foods.

“So, how did you know that burgers are my all time favorite thing to eat?” She flashed him a wicked little smile as her teeth sank into the delectably plump confection. Her eyes rolled back in her head at the sheer pleasure of it, finding only one small flaw. Chewing deliberately, she swallowed and turned to him. “What? No bacon?” He laughed as he finished the last bite of his sandwich. Pulling the napkin from his neck to wipe his mouth, he took a long drink from his soda before facing her again.

“I second guessed myself at the last minute, alas, I have failed you.” They laughed for a moment before she returned to her meal, watching casually as he got them on the road and headed for their next horrible crime scene. As she finished her hamburger and devoured her fries he steered them toward the first of several bridges they would need to cross to reach their destination. She was familiar with the route they were taking, after all, she had taken it many times in the last several years to visit her adopted parents. Finishing the last of her meal with a contented sigh, she tucked her napkin shield and bib inside the bag and tossed it into his back seat, settling into a blissfully relaxed state of satisfied warmth. When his fingers found her hand, she twined their fingers together and closed her eyes, so very close to a nap. A few minutes later he broke the silence. “So, I hate to ask, but what’s your connection to the Hamptons?”

“Oh, I lived there, after my parents died.” She felt his hand tighten. Sitting up a little straighter, she turned to him. Clearing her throat, she explained to him how, after her parents’ murder, she had been sent to live with her mother’s second cousin and her husband. How they had been the only family she had left and about her high school years living in the Hamptons. He listened intently to her story, all the while running his fingers lightly over and through her own. The caress was utterly relaxing and more than once she had almost fallen asleep. It came as a bit of shock to her when he announced, slightly annoyed, that they had arrived at the Hampton Police station. He shut the car off and turned to her, tugging her hand a bit. Warming inside, she leaned in to his light kiss—one moment of privacy before they had to go back to the real word and its horrors.

“Excuse me, I’m Detective Barrow, this is Detective Cord, we are here for the double homicide you called us about.” Matthew flipped his badge open for the officer at the reception desk.

“Ah, yeah, they said you were coming. Your lab guys are already there. Here’s the address. The first responder and assigned detective are waiting for you at the scene.” Matt took the post-it note from his fingers and, having given them all the information he intended, the desk sergeant casually went back to reading his magazine. Matt’s brows furrowed, but he turned and led Elizabeth back out of the entrance without another word.

“Chatty group you got here.” He mused sarcastically as he punched the address on the post-it note into his phone. Getting back into the car, he handed his phone to her and followed her directions. As they pulled up in front of the house, he stepped out of the car and looked up at the run down building. It was a large home, but judging by the state of the landscaping and the siding, no one had lived in it for years. Yellow crime scene tape was wrapped from column to column across the front of the house and a N.Y.C. corner’s van was backed up to the front steps. “Looks like we are fashionably late.” He laid his hand lightly into the deep curve of the small of her back and guided her up the stairs toward what was undoubtedly a tragedy.