Mindfield (Sideways Eight Book 1) (28 page)

Chapter 33

The Bicycle Did It

Manassas, VA – Medical Examiner’s Office

Thursday, 23 June – 2:30 PM

Covered with a green surgical sheet, Annabelle Grant’s pale skin glowed under the examination light. Murphy and Charley donned in protective gear approached Dr. Carmichael with many questions.

Carmichael’s tone, rough and graveled, he said, “Annabelle is number four. She tested positive for helium suffocation.”

“Stomach contents?” Murphy said.

“The victim ate pizza and soda around eight in the evening. Sprite.”

“All the girls had dinner at around the same time, between eight-thirty and nine in the evening.” Murphy tilted his head. “Humph, why did Annabelle not have as healthy a meal as the others?”

“Good question.” Charley focused on Carmichael. “Anything unique about the clothing?”

“Nothing remarkable, vintage, same as the others.” Carmichael raised Annabelle’s hand. “Same nail polish, manicure, pedicure, it’s all here.”

“Annabelle was a sexual abuse victim as a toddler. If the killer knew he wouldn’t have painted her nails.”

“Char, you’ve stated the children know the killer. I disagree.” Murphy chewed his lower lip waiting for her counter. “It’s possible he didn’t know them before he abducted them. As you say, he wouldn’t have painted Annabelle’s fingernails. He did, therefore he isn’t aware of their history.”

Carmichael’s brows scrunched. “Explain that, Char?”

Charley’s eyes switched between the two men. “He doesn’t equate cosmetics with sex but with beauty. He’s protesting the act of molestation by refusing to dishonor or disrespect them.”

“Well, my dear, it’s a good thing he didn’t.”

“Do you have a secret?” Murphy said.

Carmichael spanned his arms. “Big one.”

“You’re killing me, Ansel,” she said.

“Annabelle had herpes,” Carmichael said, with two fingers spread. “Herpes Simplex II.”

“No way.” Murphy turned in circles with his hands clasped to his head. “How in the hell does an eleven-year-old girl have herpes?”

“Her physician told me she contracted the virus from her molester,” Carmichael said. “The birth mother’s boyfriend.”

Murphy’s hands streaked his face. “Sick bastard. Hope he’s dead.”

“Oh, he is. Sentenced to thirty years for pedophilia against twelve victims and shanked doing time. Poetic.”

“I hope he suffered.”

“Not as much as the victims.” Charley rubbed her mouth. “Add another medical condition to the list.”

“This keeps getting better and better.” Murphy sighed. “Another thing, has anyone noticed the number of flowers left with each child is the same as the victim number?”

Charley’s eyes widened. “Robin had one marigold, Olivia two anemones, Natalie three carnations, now Annabelle with four lilies. He’s counting, but why?”

“Nine victims, the candles. He’s telling us how many victims there will be.”

“There’s more to it. The number nine means something.” Charley lowered her head, massaging her temples. “What caused the scrapes on her body?”

“The injuries are consistent with bicycle mishaps. There were bits of concrete embedded in the tissue.”

Still focused on the previous information, Murphy said, “You’re sure she wasn’t sexually assaulted?”

“Yes, Murph, I’m sure. The order of the injuries are traceable. The killer used antibacterial ointment on the wounds. I found a stray bandage inside the dress.”

“Not yet. The tests are still in progress.”

“Good,” Murphy said. “What about distilled water?”

“Yes. An ounce in the stomach.”

“This guy is such a contradiction,” Charley said. “I’m not sure where to go from here.”

Chapter 34

How to Peel a Tangerine

Lorton, VA – Faraday Farms

Wednesday, 29 June – 8:03 AM

Primed to hit the ground running, Charley entered the home office. The computer system booted and updated, she gulped her coffee and placed the mug to the side. She plopped her feet onto the desk, crossed her ankles, lifted the keyboard from the desk and dropped it onto her lap. Charley closed her eyes and relaxed as images whirled around her brain.

Four little girls abducted and murdered within three months. She shuddered. March seemed a lifetime ago.

The Fourth of July was days away.

Clusters of partiers at area parks.

Cookouts in backyards.

Multitudes, stuffing their mouths with potato salad and barbecue ribs.

Over consumption of alcohol.

Fireworks lighting the sky across Northern Virginia.

Homages paid to lives lost at the War Memorials at the National Mall in the District.

The imagined roasted marshmallows made her smack her lips.

Beep, beep, beep
.

It meant one thing, another missing little girl.

Charley snapped to her feet, eyes fixed, reading the data on the overhead monitor, her throat tightened, her stomach buckled, and she smiled. Evil had returned to her. Cell phone in hand, she tapped a message to Murphy to come to the office, a surprise awaited him. She lifted her arms in triumph. “Yes.”

∞ ∞ ∞

Murphy parked in the driveway, sliding through a list in his head of what Charley had to tell him. He ruled out a missing child since he hadn’t received a notification. His other assignments remained open, dividing his time in between them and the dead girls. He flung open the door and entered the house. Maybe this would be his lucky day.

Murphy stepped into the office with his arms extended out to his sides. “I’m here. Tell me what I want to hear.” His shining blue eyes matched his glowing smile.

Her face flushed, Charley rose to her feet and grinned. She raised her hand gradually and pointed at the overhead screen. “Who is that?”

Murphy glanced at the monitor then fixed on her. “No way. Is that…”

“He’s back.”

Murphy rubbed his chin. “Unbelievable.”

“Tangerine.” Her fists sprung over her head. “Yes.”

“Now you’re scaring me. It’s as if you’re glad Tangerine killed the woman.”

“Geez, Sean, I’m not that cold,” she said indignant. “He’s here. I will own him.” She turned in circles with her arms extended.

Two hours earlier, at Singleton Forest Refuge, southwest of Bailey’s Crossroads, Virginia, two children playing in the area, found the body of a woman lying on her back in the tall grass.

The detectives used historical databases and found a connection between the woman discovered at the refuge and the others from a previous case still active with the FBI. The detectives sent out immediate notifications.

Painted orange, from head to toe, the victim had a tangerine lodged inside her mouth and a peel slice in each eye. Charley zoomed the image to examine the crime scene photos. The same as the previous victims, the vagina was sewn shut with fishing twine. Body hair had been removed.

“Same M.O.” She sat in the office chair, continuing to read the details. “Supine in the grass, the victim’s feet pointed east with her arms positioned at thirty degree angles.” She pointed at the screen. “Look at her hand.” The facts unfurled. “He knows I’m here and no longer in Maryland. This is the first time he’s left a note.”

Murphy moved closer to the overhead monitor. He rubbed the back of his neck as he swallowed deep. As his natural pink cheeks reddened, his forehead moistened.

You left the shore, for what more,

Now you climb, to experience divine.

You will fall hard and quick,

For I will destroy your tick, tick, tick.

Murphy whipped around to face her. His hand swept his forehead. “He’s after you.”

“It’s a metaphor.” She sighed. “That isn’t how he does things. This is contradictory to his past behavior.”

“Char, he wants to kill you.”

“Good, I want him after me. If we’re lucky, this will be his final victim. This one wasn’t to fulfill his fantasies and desires. This was a dedication to me. I accept his invitation.”

“What?” Murphy gasped, stepping towards her, his hands out front. “Char, you have to go under a protection order.”

“No way. Let him stand before me and watch what happens. I have him this time. He’s not between the ages of thirty and thirty-five as I once analyzed. More like twenty-five to thirty. I estimate his first kill happened when he was eighteen, maybe younger. It’s rare for a serial killer to be that young.”

She stood from her seat, knocking the chair away with the back of her knees. She paced the floor, playing with her mouth. “He’s intelligent, but immature, socially incompetent. He’s never been in a close relationship. An only child, pushed too hard and too far to succeed by demanding parents always on his tail to be superior to others.”

“You almost described yourself.” He gave her a side eye.

“My parents never pushed me. They spent most of their time trying to slow me down. His parents were critical and strict, possibly religious. That explains the explicit posing from his earlier kills. But this one, he didn’t.” She ambled towards him. “They’re dead. He’s free from their bondage. This is his final stand.”

Murphy’s stance went rigid as he drew in a breath and released it. “His final stand is to kill you.”

“No, he’s done. He’s ready to die. I’m the last person he wants to see before he closes his eyes forever.”

Murphy ran his hand through his dark hair, taking the spit curl with it. “That is the most ridiculous form of suicide-by-cop I’ve ever heard. You’re losing it. Char.” He shook his hand at her. “Listen. To. Me. The note is a threat. This is serious. He wants to destroy you.”

“Sean, you can’t think normal here. You have to exist inside their deranged, disjointed minds. To think like them.” She brought her clenched fist to her chest. “Be them. Feel them. Experience them. They are amazing people. The way they define words isn’t the same as a normal person. He’s being cryptic.”

“Char, you have to stay in a safe place, out of sight, please.”

“You don’t get it because you’ve never been there.” With her arms parallel to the ground, she turned in a circle. “Their mind, it lives in this dark, mysterious place. It’s almost serene until the lights turn on. The monster evolves into an ominous monstrosity that can’t breathe. It desires liberty to prove itself the only way it knows how.”

“You admire them?”

“Yes, their minds. Their crimes?” She shook her head. “Study them. Look at the enormous amount of information and data made available because of criminals such as Jeffery Dahmer. He was a prize, personable and aware of what he did. Arguably remorseful, he wanted to be in prison. Dahmer accepted he was an abomination. Tangerine knows he is, and that’s why I’ll stop him.”

Murphy’s tall frame leaned over her, bending her back, as he locked onto her eyes. He clamped her chin with his thumb and index finger. “I’m not letting you out of my sight, period.”

“Too much drama, Sean.”

He turned away, digging his fingers into his hips. “You call this drama? Are you for real? This demon is plotting to kill you and you’re so nonchalant. I don’t understand your reaction.”

“Sean, he’s not after me. He’s taunting me. It won’t work. I understand this guy. I’m telling you, he’s not after me. For one, he knows better.”

“I’m calling trumps.” Murphy’s footfalls towards her were forceful, his tone deepened. “I will not stand back and watch you compromise your safety and play poker with your life.”

“What are you saying? You want to control me?”

“Yes, get over it. I’m not leaving your side.”

“You have to go home sometime.”

“Here, your home, until this degenerate is taken down. Don’t even try to dismiss me. I’m taking a solid stand.” Murphy’s hand slung in front of her. “And that’s final.”

“You sound like my daddy.”

“I don’t want to be your daddy. I will protect you at all costs. Whether you like it or not.”

“Don’t say that.”

“You want power over my feelings? What I say? I don’t think so.” He patted his chest. “Not power, Charley, protection.”

“You’re pulling the archaic man card. Why? Because I’m a woman?”

“I would do this for anyone I care about, male or female. It’s how I’m wired.”

Arms crossed, Charley stood defiant. “You’re bossy and controlling.”

His finger jabbed his chest. “No, Charley, I care.” With a tight grip on her shoulders, he shook her. His voice softened into a deep, mellow, comforting tone. “I’m aware of your courage, your determination. I will not stand back and allow any harm to come to you. I will not allow it.”

Charley backed away, shaking her head.

“I’ll handcuff you if I have to.” He stepped forward and leaned into her. “We both know I’ll do it. Hold you hostage at my home until this is over. I will allow no one to hurt you. Never again.”

Charley waved her arm in the air. “Forget it. I’m not staying at your house.”

“Guess again.” He gave her a direct nod. “Your safety comes first and I’m in charge of that safety.”

“It’s silly, Sean. I promise you, he isn’t coming after me. That’s not his purpose, believe in me.”

“When you believe in me.” He tapped her on the shoulder. “I’ll believe in you.”

“I don’t have a lifetime, okay?”

“You are so mean sometimes.”

Charley waved her finger back and forth. “No, I’m honest, forthright, and belligerent, but never mean.”

“Char, I’m not leaving your side. Fight me all you want, but you’ll lose this one and you don’t like to lose.”

“I’ll consider it. I’m going to Carmichael’s. You coming?”

“Stupid question after all I’ve said.” He turned away, redirected and faced her. “I can always camp out on your front porch.”

“You have a key to my house. Why would you camp out on the front lawn?”

“To make a point.”

“Ughhh, Sean, you won’t stop, will you?”

“Never.”

Manassas, VA Medical Examiner’s Office - 09:58 AM

At the ME’s office, they approached the slab where the woman lay. Charley signaled their arrival.

“Hey, Charley, Murph, how’s it going?” Carmichael said.

“Great,” she said.

“How about I tell you what isn’t on the server?” Carmichael said.

She rubbed her hands together grinning. “I love inside secrets. Let’s hear it.”

“Her name is Hillary Meagan. She’s divorced, no children, a pharmaceutical sales rep. Her capture and killing is a little different than the ones from four years ago.”

“How so?”

“I wanted to tell you before I forwarded the info to other authorities. First, she isn’t eighteen or twenty-one. She’s twenty-eight.”

“And?”

“She’s a natural blond with green eyes and smaller than the other victims. Before you get all sentimental on me, she wasn’t an athlete.”

“How do you know she had blond hair? Her head is shaved,” Murphy said.

With a goofy sideways smile, Carmichael goaded him. “Please tell me you know how to use a landing strip? One pylon remained.”

“Oh.” Murphy jutted his jaw.

Bewildered, Charley glanced at both of them. “What? I don’t understand.”

“Curtains, Charley,” Murphy said.

“Curtains, what curtains? What would they have to do with her hair color? Ansel, why would you go to her house to see her drapes?”

They stared at her, speechless.

Charley shrugged her shoulders. “What?”

In unison, the men spoke aloud, “Pubic hair.”

Her hands flitted. “Why didn’t you say so?” Her brows furrowed as she did a forty-five and focused on Murphy. “Curtains?”

“It’s more of a derogatory term if you include the word meat. Don’t ask, I’ll explain later.”

“I’ll use the net, thank you.” She turned to Carmichael. “Anyway, Ansel, are you trying to scare me?”

“Yes, I am. She’s a message and we know what it’s saying.”

“What is with you guys? Tangerine is not after me. What else?”

“Recall his barbaric torture of his former victims? He abducted them and exsanguinated them soon after he brutalized them. Not so with this one. He played with her.”

“How so?”

“Well, it wasn’t easy to figure out. First, I searched for knowns and I didn’t go outside the box. There were traces of lavender body wash on her skin. I found minute fibers of a fine lace material. You’re not the lace kinda gal.”

Charley slid her fingernail over her incisors. “What kinda lace?”

“I’m no expert, but I could tell by the thread quality it wasn’t ordinary. I contacted a local fabric store. They identified it for me. I called northern France near Calais, and they verified it’s Leavers lace.”