Pretty Witches All in a Row (13 page)

“Keep digging.  She mentioned something about living in the South when we spoke.  See what you can get from running her stats through those states.  What about the preacher guy, Cahill?”

“He’s married, no children, lives way out in Forest Grove on a hazelnut orchard.”

“Huh, that’s something you don’t hear every day…”  Nick muttered, and Brady continued without pausing.

“He is an ordained Lutheran minister but split off to form his own church back in ’06.  He started off in a barn on his own property, but graduated to a church in Aloha, where he holds services three days during the week and on Sundays.  Oh, and there’s a bible study group on Thursday nights if you’re interested.” 

“I think I’ll pass,” Nick snorted.

“I couldn’t get much on a list of his parishioners.  I’m thinking short of attending services on Sunday, there’s not a whole lot we can do to track them down. But…” he paused for dramatic effect.  “I saved the best for last.” 

“Yeah… so?  What, you want an engraved invitation?”

“I found a link between the Reverend and our first vic, Zoe Phillips.  They were both involved in a scuffle surrounding a peaceful rally at an abortion clinic that turned not so peaceful a year ago.”   Brady brought up the link on his computer.  A picture of Cahill and a dark haired woman struggling among a throng of people came up with the news article.  “Apparently he and our witch got into a heated shouting match across picket lines.  Someone threw a clod of dirt… and the next thing everybody knew there was a full fledged riot going on.  Uniforms hauled everyone away, but Cahill was released without being charged for insufficient evidence.  Actually, they let almost everybody go, there were too many conflicting reports on what happened.”

“So Cahill knew our first victim?  I wonder if that’s our in?”  Nick brightened at the thought of an actual suspect.

Captain Quinn stepped out of his office and gestured towards the group of detectives with two fingers, a grim look on his face.

“Uh oh, I know that look,” Brady murmured, setting down his coffee cup and straightening his tie.

Never a good thing to be called into the Captain’s office for an impromptu chat, Nick wondered if he wanted an update, or if they were in for an ass chewing?  “Make me proud, guys.”  He offered his fist and bumped it against Brady’s and then Park’s after a momentary hesitation on her part. 

Leading them into Quinn’s office, Nick knew better than to take a seat, he simply stepped into the room, allowing his team to flank him on either side.  “What can we do for you, Captain?” he asked respectfully. 

“I won’t ask how the Mackenzie case is going, because clearly we’re nowhere near catching the dirtbag.”  The older man’s lips twitched with what might have been a mirthless smile, but his steely gray eyes indicated that he found nothing amusing about the statement. 

An ass chewing then…
“We’re making progress, Sir, we…”

“We’ve got another one,” Quinn interrupted, shoving a fax across the top of his desk.

“Another one?  How long ago?  Why weren’t we called out?”  Nick swooped up the fax, eyes scanning the page swiftly, hungry for the facts. 

“It happened in the East precinct, so they were the first on the scene.  As soon as they knew it was related to our murders, their Captain gave me a call.  I believe she’s one of your witches, right?”

“Meiliyn Xiang.”  Nick read the name from the top of the report.

“I guess that explains why she was dodging our calls.” 

“This says time of death was sometime between eleven PM and one AM, about the same window of opportunity as the last one.  Only this time no fire, she was only stabbed.  Thanks Captain, we’ll get right down there.”  Nick was already two steps from the door when Quinn called him back. 

“Hold on a second, Gibson.”  

Nick knew that look; there was more unpleasant news to unfold.  “Please don’t tell me you’re taking away the case.”  His stomach clenched at the idea.  Being removed from a case was tantamount to announcing your incompetence to the entire department. 

“No, but you’ll be working with the other precinct as part of a joint task force.” 

“A joint task force?”  Brady’s skepticism mirrored the other detective’s faces. 

“With three murders now, the commissioner felt the need to step things up, allocate more resources.  That’s a good thing.  Your processing requests will be given priority with forensics, records, etcetera.”

“Oh, that doesn’t sound so bad.”  Nick’s tension eased for a moment before another question occurred to him.  “Who’s in charge of this task force?” he asked grimly.  The pause told him everything he needed to know, and he bit the inside of his lips to keep the string of obscenities from leaping out of his mouth. 

“Now don’t get your panties in a knot over it, it has nothing to do with your performance,” Quinn barked.  “The commissioner felt a fresh perspective might not be a bad idea, and I’m inclined to agree.  I think a fresh set of eyes over the whole thing can’t hurt, and it’ll free you up to focus on the newest crime for now.”

No matter what the Captain said, it still stung to be put under another detective, especially when he’d been living and breathing the case for the past two days.  “Who is it?  Leading the other team?”

“Sergeant Troyer.  He’s requested a copy of everything you’ve got to date, let’s make it a priority to get it to him and hopefully he’ll give you the same courtesy on what his team has so far.”

“I’ll go and get that started,” Park offered and Brady was hot on her heels.

“This sucks and you know it.”  Nick’s voice was low, pitched for just the Captain’s ears as his team left the office. 

“It’s all part of playing ball, you know that, Sergeant.”

“Yeah, while they’re playing catch up on the first two murders we’ll be losing time catching the bastard!”  His frustration bubbled to the surface.

“The hell we will,” Quinn growled in return.  “You get your team down there and demand to be let in on what’s going down right now.  Continue this investigation as if it was your own; don’t let this Troyer tell you any different.  He’s leading the thing but you’ve still got a brain, use it.”

There was nothing more to be said.  As much as it chafed, he’d have to go and present himself to the other Sergeant and hope the guy wasn’t a total dick.  “Yes Sir,” Nick nodded, still clutching the fax as he left the office.  “Come on; let’s get to that crime scene,” he called out, picking up his coffee and downing the dregs with a wince.

“What about copying these files for Troyer?” Park’s brows came up.

“Have Evans do it, our energy is better spent at the scene, I need you guys there.”

“Strength in numbers,” Brady grinned, eager to get out of the paperwork. 

“We’re not gonna let these guys push us around is all,” Nick stated confidently.  “We have every right to be there.  Let’s get going, hopefully we’ll get there before they remove the body.”

Chapter Eight

They went in two cars, the short procession weaving quickly through the surface streets to the east side of town.  Nick used his siren when necessary, impatience making him speed where he might otherwise have been content to abide by normal traffic laws.  Ordinarily there was no rush to get to a crime scene; there would be crews processing the bulk of the raw data.  The longer he gave them to do their jobs, the less he’d be in the way, and the more information they’d have to report when he got there.  But this time, they weren’t reporting to
him
.  Nick was good at his job and he knew it, his team knew it, and his Captain knew it.  It shouldn’t rankle, but it did. 

The apartment building was a sea of emergency vehicles, a considerable crowd of onlookers gabbing to themselves on the walkway below.  Meiliyn Xiang lived on the second floor of a low end apartment complex; the kind that was no stranger to frequent police visits.  Rumors of a murder had all the lookey loos out in force.  Nick flashed a badge to the uniformed cop at the bottom of the stairs and gained passage, stopping halfway to call back to Park and Brady who were hot on his heels.  “Go and take some pictures of the crowd,” he ordered, voice low.  You never knew when you had a killer who liked to stay and enjoy the entertainment.  Park nodded and slipped back down the staircase, Brady continued up behind him. 

Inside the apartment was no less chaotic for there being no fire this time.  Nick hoped to God the Crime Scene Unit had been allowed to document everything before everyone started tromping through the crime scene.  

“That one’s Troyer,” Brady indicated with a discreet nod of the head, referring to a tall man in his forties, talking to two younger men one light haired, one dark, all wearing suits. 

Nick recognized the intense look on Troyer’s face right off the bat, he was the no-nonsense type.  Great.  “Let’s go play nice,” he breathed, pushing forward into the room, approaching the men with his hand outstretched.  “Sergeant Troyer?” 

“You must be Sergeant Gibson.”  Troyer turned and nodded, accepting the hand offered.

“Guilty as charged,” Nick smiled.  “What do we have so far?”  He preferred to jump right in rather than stand around and kiss ass for a half hour. 

“Multiple stab wounds.  The M.E. said the killing blow was right through the heart, it’s a regular bloodbath in there.”  Troyer nodded his head in the direction of the bedroom.  “CSU will be mopping up for hours.  I understand she was part of the same bunch of friends you’ve been investigating, some new age group?”

“Coven of witches,” Nick confirmed.  “So far it’s three down, four left standing.

“Coven of witches…”  One of the younger detectives snorted derisively. 

“I’m sorry, you are…?” Nick asked, more than a little annoyed, even though he might have had the same reaction a week ago. 

“This is my team, Jerry Willis.”  Troyer nodded at the younger, slender man with curly, brown hair who’d spoken.  “And Travis Nelson.”  He indicated the other detective who stood by his side, sporting a short, blonde faux-hawk and wispy mustache.  Gibson had seen dozens of cops like them, especially down in LA.  They had that smug look about them, as if they’d never made a mistake since earning the rank of detective.  He was struck by a fleeting desire to knock the smirk right off the Willis one’s face. 

“Nick Gibson,” he introduced himself.  “This is Kip Brady, my other detective Michelle Park is outside getting a few shots of the crowd.

“Good idea,” Troyer remarked, a grudging note of respect in his voice, and Nick couldn’t help but feel a little surge of pride.  “The way I see it, the killer is someone she knows or maybe picked up for the night.  The roommate’s out for the evening, so he’s got plenty of time to work.  They come in; have a few drinks, maybe things get hot and heavy...”  He moved over to the seating group by the coffee table.  “Or maybe he micks her so she’s out cold.  Either way, they end up in the bedroom and the clothes start coming off.”

“She’s naked?”  Nick’s brows climbed, that was something he hadn’t been expecting.  The report from Skye’s death had been inconclusive as to whether or not she’d been clothed at the time of the fire. 

“As the day she was born,” Nelson confirmed, trading a look with Willis. 

“Okay, so then what?” Nick prompted with a look to the bedroom; he was dying to get a look at that crime scene. 

“They’re in the bedroom, maybe she starts squawking, putting up a fight, or maybe he just gets to the point where he has to kill her, and out comes the knife.  We got one deep plunge into the heart from up under the ribcage, and then six or seven other wounds about the chest and abdomen.”

“Messy,” Nick frowned.  “The killer would have had her blood all over him.  I don’t see any bloody footprints or any blood spatter leading from the bedroom.”

“Nope, there’s no sign of any blood outside of the vic’s bedroom, but the place looks like it was tossed.  Maybe the killer was looking for something?  That’s the only place in the apartment that was disturbed.  In fact, if he hadn’t left the bedroom door ajar, the roommate says she might not have realized anything was wrong at all.” 

“What time did the roommate discover the body?” Brady asked.

“A little after three AM, she comes home from a late shift and finds her lying there.  She screams bloody murder and doesn’t stop screaming until the neighbors come in and drag her out of there and call it in.  We had a uniform in the area, so it only took about ten minutes before we secured the scene, but there were at least a half dozen neighbors in and out of the place before we got here.”

“Was anything taken?”

“Don’t know yet, the roommate was too distraught to get much more out of her, and we don’t have the full inventory from the room yet.”

“How did you know she was linked to our cases?” Nick asked, noticing that Brady was taking notes like a good boy. 

“As soon as I saw that spooky shit I thought of your case,” Willis volunteered.    “It didn’t take much checking to confirm she was friends with your victims.”

“What do you mean spooky shit?”  Already moving towards the bedroom, Nick resolved to take a peek. 

“Candles, incense, pentagrams, there’s even a voo doo doll in there on her dresser.”  Willis was only too happy to inform them, moving alongside Nick.  “I hope you’ve got a strong stomach,” he cautioned, dropping off before he got to the actual doorway.

After years of working homicide, Nick did indeed have a strong stomach, but he braced himself with a deep breath before sticking his head into the doorway.  They hadn’t been exaggerating, blood was spattered everywhere across the bed, the carpet, even the walls.  The carpet…

Nick stared in shock as the he realized the pattern on the carpet was a field of wildflowers.  What had Annaliese said about her dream?  She’d been lying on a field of wildflowers with the dark pentacle drawn around her.  He strained to see from the doorway but it didn’t appear that there was any kind of mark left on the carpet besides the blood.  The rest of the room was in disarray as Troyer had mentioned, a small table in the corner of the room that he recognized must have been her ritual altar was on its side, the contents scattered across the floor.