Murder Stalks (5 page)

“
Sure, anytime, day or
night. You need something, just call good ’ole Jack.”

Tony followed Michael down the walkway to
the back of the complex. The door to the laundry room was only
twenty feet away from Ms. Longfellow’s apartment and a row of full
bushes hid the entrance from the parking lot.

Tony stepped through the doorway and found
that, unlike the manager’s office, this room was clean, almost too
clean. The dust that normally filled a room full of lint spewing
dryers had been wiped from every surface. Someone had taken a lot
of time to clean the laundry room. Who would go to such
lengths?

“
Rains, get Officer Owens
in here and check this room for prints.”

“
Yes sir.”

****

From across the street he could see the
beads of sweat dotting the face of Detective Tony Santos. Hours had
been spent processing the scene. Most of the police officers were
gone, only a few stragglers milled around the apartment parking
lot. He almost giggled like a little girl when Santos rubbed his
face with one broad palm. The stress was already showing, just as
he hoped it would.

The police officers were like little
children on a treasure hunt. The only problem was he had left no
treasure behind for them to collect. They would go home
unfulfilled, with empty evidence bags and no leads.

A gush of power surged up his torso, causing
his throat to constrict. His taste buds tingled and his head
buzzed. Power tasted so sweet on his tongue. The knowledge that he
was besting Tony Santos was an elixir, the most powerful taste in
the universe. Few ever experienced the wonderfully sweet taste of
power that he had. He was one of the lucky ones. One of the few to
actually take action on a plan that was so thorough, so well
thought out and follow through to the point of causing the one
thing he wished for more than anything else in the whole world.

The man laughed out loud as he watched
Detective Tony Santos talk to one of the officers. He knew what
Santos would do next. It was simple and predictable. First the
great detective would pull together a team of officers and focus on
the evidence. A loud snort echoed through his car. Tony and his
police officers could search the scene all day long, but they
wouldn’t find anything because he hadn’t left any evidence. Well,
he had left one small thing.

This time the laughs came so hard tears
trailed down his face. The puppet master was at work and Santos
couldn’t do anything to save himself.

Tony’s success and failure rate on big cases
wasn’t a mystery. And this case was going to be big. So big that
Santos wouldn’t know what hit him.

Chapter 5

Tony reached across the empty expanse of his
bed to find she wasn’t there. “Damn it.” Rolling over, he punched
the snooze button hard, knocking the clock to the floor. The
silence that followed reminded him how empty his life had become.
Dropping his anger on inanimate objects wasn’t his way, but his
dream had been vivid and waking up to find the bed empty and
Marissa gone, was a cruel trick. Sorrow flowed through his body,
squeezing the breath from his lungs. Something had to change.

His thoughts switched to work mode, and he
groaned. The first forty-eight hours were the most important in any
murder investigation. It sounded like a trite catch phrase, thrown
around by supposed experts, but it was the truth.

Yesterday was a wash. His team made no
headway. Everyone had stayed late to work on the Longfellow case.
Dr. Sekorski called at eleven to inform Tony that the victim had
the letter ‘A’ etched in the flesh of her right butt cheek. His
team had left before the call. This morning they would go over the
strange carving and try to figure out what it might mean.

Before he headed home, Tony had begun to
make a list of what the ‘A’ could mean. The only thing he came up
with was that the victim’s first name began with an ‘A’. It didn’t
make any sense that the killer would carve her initial in her skin,
but anything was possible.

The fog in his brain last night made his
movements slow and jerky, his thoughts jumbled. He was strung-out
from the day’s events, and decided to head for home. But home
wasn’t the same since Marissa left. Rambling around the house with
a beer in hand wasn’t as fulfilling as crashing on the couch with
his arm flung around his beautiful wife, decompressing before they
turned in for the night.

“
Damn,” Tony cursed as he
slid from under the covers.

Why was he thinking about Marissa? She had
been the one to leave. Tony stared at his face in the bathroom
mirror. He was lying to himself again. Marissa wasn’t in the wrong.
He had given her no choice. Disgusted with his self-deception, Tony
closed his eyes to avoid their burning look.

Should he try to see her today? He couldn’t
put it off any longer.

He opened his eyes, staring at his
reflection. He squinted, wondering if he could he do it? Did he
have a choice? Rejections from his past twisted his gut. Being
passed over for adoption, time and time again, taunted him. Marissa
didn’t have to take him back. If he didn’t confront her about her
decision, he could go on believing she would come back one day.

That was the coward in him talking, and he
hated that selfish little bastard. He wasn’t a little boy left to
the mercy of an overloaded system. He was a man in control of his
future. Marissa helped him realize that long ago. He made up his
mind. Today was the day to pay a visit to Marissa.

The phone chirped as Tony finished in the
bathroom. The caller could wait, but his visit to the gourmet
brewer in his kitchen wouldn’t. The phone ceased its noise. Two
seconds of silence followed, and then the phone began its annoying
chirp again. He picked it up on the second ring, grumbling as he
caught the caller ID. “Yo, Rex, this had better be an emergency. I
haven’t had any coffee.”

“
Saddle up and drink fast,
I’ll be there in fifteen.” Rex’s voice was flat on the other end of
the line, unusual for a self-declared early bird.

Hope welled up in Tony. Maybe Rex had
stumbled onto a lead early this morning. “No, I want to have two
cups before my shower. I’ll meet you at HQ in thirty.”

“
Sorry, Tony, bring a cup
with you. Fifteen, that’s all you’ve got.”

The line disconnected and Tony slammed his
cup down on the counter, blasting the ceramic piece into hundreds
of tiny shards. Multiple curse words came to mind, but he didn’t
let them fly. Pulling the broom out of the pantry closet, he swept
up the mess, dumping the broken shards into the trash.

A hazy film hung low, turning the air thick
and humid, as he waited outside for Rex, his hair still damp from
the quick shower he’d buzzed through. The sound of the Hummer hit
him before he saw it. Tony spied the blank look on Rex’s face as he
pulled up next to the small green lawn. Trouble buzzed his
thoughts.

Damn, this day was already bad.

The throbbing began at the base of Tony’s
neck and arched up through his skull. He wanted to turn back to his
house and pretend he hadn’t received Rex’s call. Some days Tony
wished he wasn’t a cop. Then he would think about his past and
realize he didn’t have a choice. He was made to be a police
officer.

He rested his elbows on the open windowsill.
“If you expect me to ride in this thing the AC better be on full
blast and the windows closed.”

“
You got it. Now get
in.”

Tony slid his tall frame into the passenger
seat. He hated riding with others, abandoning his own car left him
at the mercy of other drivers. Not a feeling he enjoyed. Mornings
were not his favorite time. He usually started slowly, working his
way up to a good attitude after two cups of coffee, after four cups
he might be considered nice.

Tony took a long sip from his travel mug and
turned towards Rex, focusing on the hard-set jaw. “Why so early and
where are we going?”

“
About thirty minutes ago
we got a call about another victim.”

“
What?” The coffee turned
in Tony’s empty stomach. Only one day had passed since they had
found the Longfellow girl. Familiar roads passed by, but Tony
couldn’t concentrate on where they were going.

He turned to Rex, wondering why his buddy
was being tight lipped? Tony’s throat pulled closed as anguish and
pride mixed together. This town was supposed to be a sleepy little
place where tourists would feel isolated from the big city
problems. The residents of this fair town lived here because of its
quiet nature. Juniper was an ideal city, not a place where murders
happened on a daily basis.

“
From the initial call, it
looks like the same MO.”

“
Why wasn’t I called?”
Tony’s headache was in full force. He shut his eyes, blocking the
early morning glare, and gaining some relief from the pounding in
his skull.

“
I was there when the desk
took the call.”

“
The desk? Why didn’t it
go through the switchboard?”

“
It was direct.” Rex
squirmed in his seat.

Normally upfront with his opinions, Rex was
holding something back. Tony swallowed hard and glanced toward his
old friend. Rex’s face was stoic. The usual lighthearted humor was
absent.

The air drained from Tony’s body, leaving
him deflated. He slumped in his seat. There was only one reason why
Rex would come and get him instead of telling him over the phone
who the victim was.

“
Damn it, who was
it?”

“
We’re here,” Rex
said.

Tony’s stomach fell as dread wormed its way
up his chest. The world around him ceased to matter.

Not her.

Tony lost all feeling in his body. Unable to
hold his head up, he let it droop against the window. After a
moment he found the control he needed. With too much force he
shoved the door open catching it with his hand when it banged back
at him. He stumbled up the steps to the front door of the house and
pushed through, not caring about securing the scene.

His heart slammed against his chest and his
insides felt like squished rubber. Tears of remorse gathered in the
corner of his eyes. A jolt of pain slammed Tony’s chest when he saw
Danny Ingles camped out on his couch.

Danny’s normally large frame was squashed
with grief, making him seem smaller than he really was. Deep lines,
that hadn’t been there last week, were etched on his red-splotched
face. Kelsey Ingles, Dan’s wife, was gone.

Years ago, Kelsey had taken Tony in and
treated him like a brother. They had met in college and a bond had
formed that few understood. Knowing Tony had no family to go home
to for the holidays, she had invited him to celebrate with her
family in Oklahoma. It was the first time he had thought that his
future might be filled with people who cared about him. When Kelsey
married Danny seven years ago, Tony had sung at their wedding.

Tony closed his eyes for a moment, trying
desperately to gain control. How could this have happened to
Kelsey? She had been so vibrant, so full of life.

“
Tony.” Danny’s voice
rasped with grief.

“
Dan, I’m
sorry.”

Tony stumbled to the couch, grasping his
friend by the shoulder. Too angry to sit, and too grief-stricken to
move into the bedroom, he waited until Danny stood. The image of
the strong fireman’s tearstained face was imprinted onto Tony’s
memory, an image he wouldn’t soon forget.

“
You get this bastard,”
Danny choked out. “And when you do, I want him to fry for what he
did to Kel--” Danny’s voice cracked as a heavy sob escaped his
lips.

“
I’ll get him,” Tony said
hoarsely.

“
Danny,” a deep voice
rumbled from the doorway.

Tony turned and saw Fire Chief Scott
standing in the entryway. Danny would be taken care of. The firemen
of Juniper were great at their job, but they were even better at
taking care of their own. Now, Tony could concentrate on work.

“
Tony.”

He turned around to face Danny, and his eyes
blurred with unshed tears. “Danny, you need anything, all you have
to do is ask.”

“
There was a comb.” Danny
choked back a sob.

“
Where?”

“
In her hair, her pubic
hair.” Danny gripped Tony’s arm, squeezing tight. “Don’t let me
down.”

Danny’s shoulders shook as he walked out of
the house. The only thing Tony could do to help was to push his
emotions away and focus on the murder scene. He owed that much to
Kelsey. Tony clenched his fists and moved across the room and down
the hall to the bedroom.

Entering the death room was rough. Danny had
obviously tried to revive Kelsey. Her body wasn’t posed on the
floor like the last victim had been, but the fluid and blood
evidence showed where she had died.

Bile rose in the back of Tony’s throat. He
didn’t want his coffee to come back on him, but it was dangerously
close. Years had passed since the last time he had been sick at a
murder scene. Turning away from Kelsey’s limp form, he erected
emotional barriers that would allow him to do his job.

Owens was already snapping shots. Sekorski
knelt by the body, his shoulders hunched and extra wrinkles marring
his brow. Kelsey’s death was too close to home. If the killer went
after a fireman’s wife, then he could easily target a policeman’s
wife.

Kelsey’s hands were missing and her body was
blue and purple from bruises suffered during her attack. Tony bent
down close, inspecting her neck. There was no bruising evident on
the skin around her neck and shoulders. He stood and staggered
backwards, running into the wall. He steadied his body against the
solid surface.