Detective Damien Drake series Box Set 1

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Detective Damien Drake series Box Set 1 Page 60

by Patrick Logan


  Their eyes met, and it was as if time itself had stopped.

  For twenty seconds neither of them so much as breathed. It was only when Suzan’s bag fell to the ground, did either of them react. Drake poised himself, ready to run by her if she started to scream again.

  But to his surprise, she didn’t scream. Instead, she simply nodded at him, then slipped by without a word.

  Drake followed her with his eyes. She knew what had happened, knew the only logical reason why he was here so early in the morning.

  She was bright and intuitive.

  And yet Suzan didn’t seem angered by this fact.

  Drake was happy to see that most of her burns had healed, and aside from a slightly rosy complexion and a small patch of missing hair near her temple, she looked pretty good given what she had been through.

  As if reading his thoughts, Suzan turned from the first step.

  “Is my mom still asleep?” she asked in a soft voice.

  Drake gaped, and couldn’t bring himself to answer. It was probably for the best; he didn’t want to risk breaking the unusual calm by speaking. Besides, the question was likely rhetorical, because Suzan didn’t wait for an answer.

  She started up the stairs, with Drake watching on.

  “Mom?” she hollered. “You awake, Ma?”

  Just before he turned and pulled the door wide, Drake spied something peeking out from the pocket of Suzan’s jeans. It was only the tip, and he couldn’t be positive, but he thought it was the same yellow as the envelope he had placed in the mailbox last night.

  Outside, he noted that the little red flag on the side of the black mailbox was down again.

  ***

  Drake entered Triple D and immediately reached for the light switch, only to realize that the lights were already on.

  “Screech?”

  The man popped out from behind his desk.

  “Wassup?”

  The man’s goatee looked more like a beard these days, and his hair, normally short on the sides, long and curly on top, was beginning to form a tennis ball shape.

  “You ever go home?” Drake asked, unable to help the smile that crept onto his lips. It faded when he remembered that the last time he had been here without Screech, Raul had been present.

  “Nope. Never. I’m that dedicated to our noble cause, sire,” Screech said with a mock bow.

  “Speaking of which, did you ever talk to the guy about the yacht?”

  “Mr. Bumacher? Meeting with him today. Speaking of which, I think it would be best for you to be there. Says it was your name who brought him to Triple D.”

  Drake removed his hat and coat and put them on the rack by the door.

  “You can handle it, pardner,” he offered.

  Screech opened his mouth to say something, but then his eyes narrowed and a smirk crossed his lips.

  “You’re being unusually cordial this morning. Maybe even polite. I’ve only seen you like this once before, when—”

  Drake’s expression suddenly soured.

  “Drop it, Screech.”

  Screech laughed.

  “It’s true, isn’t it? You—”

  “I said, drop it!”

  The smile fell off the man’s face and he dropped back down behind his computer screen.

  “Sorry.”

  Drake marched past him.

  “Did you find out anything about the e-book thingy? Where it came from?”

  Screech shook his head and when he spoke, his tone had become serious. Drake immediately regretted snapping at him as he had.

  “No idea who it came from. Couldn’t link the registration number to anyone, and when I asked around the building, no one saw anyone deliver it. You think it’s important?”

  Drake hesitated, his hand on the handle to his office.

  “I think it is,” he said more to himself than to Screech.

  “I’ll keep digging then. But I looked into the book that was loaded on there—Red Lips or whatever?”

  “Red Smile,” Drake corrected.

  “Yeah, sure. Anyway, it looks like it’s published online, but hasn’t sold much. I tried to find out about the author, L. Wiley, but it’s clearly a fake name. L. Wiley doesn’t seem to exist.”

  Drake frowned. It wasn’t just the similarities between the book and the murders that bothered him, but also the fact that while it was undoubtedly an important piece of the puzzle, it had taken him so long to look into it.

  With Dr. Kildare, Chase, Ken, the man with the missing yacht, and now Jasmine of all people occupying his thoughts, his life had suddenly gone from simple to impossibly complicated seemingly overnight.

  I wish Clay was here… he would know what to say, what to do.

  An image of Jasmine on top of him, her head thrown back in ecstasy, her hard nipples pointed toward the ceiling suddenly flashed in his mind. Only as the scene played out, her pretty features slowly morphed into Ken Smith’s, and he shuddered.

  Except despite the vision, he couldn’t fight the creeping sensation that he was the one getting fucked by Ken and not the other way around.

  With a sigh, he turned back to Screech for a final time.

  “Can you do me a favor?” he asked.

  “Sure. What is it?”

  “I need a couple of those cameras,” he chewed his lip for a moment. “And set one up by the front door in case any more packages arrive.”

  Screech stared at him and Drake was certain that he was going to say something about home videos or offer some other lewd comment, but thankfully his partner bit his tongue.

  “No problem. I’ll have them on your desk by noon.”

  Drake closed the door to his office harder than he had intended and then slumped down in his chair.

  A second later, he pulled the e-reader from his pocket and started to read.

  Chapter 25

  Chase stepped out of the shower and dried her hair. With the fan above her head sucking out the moist air, she started to apply her makeup, trying her best to cover the dark circles beneath her eyes.

  It had been a long, long night, one that had consisted mostly of Internet poker. She had done well, raking in well over three grand, but it hadn’t helped distract her the way she thought it would.

  And she had had only an hour of sleep, maybe two.

  After Chase had done her best to make her face look halfway presentable, she dabbed concealer on the pale pink scars on the inside of her elbows.

  She did this without thinking, the habit so ingrained that it no longer even registered in her brain.

  That part of her life was behind her, long gone. And yet she doubted that the scars would ever heal completely.

  Someone knocked on the bathroom door.

  “Chase? You almost done in there? I have to piss!”

  Chase made a face, and after quickly making sure that the track marks on her arms were barely visible, she tucked the towel up under her armpits.

  “All done,” she replied, pulling the door wide.

  Brad was standing in the doorway, his eyes wide, clutching the crotch of his blue and white pin-stripe pajamas like a child.

  “Gotta go!” he said as he hurried past.

  Chase chuckled and started toward the bedroom, only to stop when Brad’s voice drew her back.

  “You still taking Felix in today, right?”

  Chase frowned. She had forgotten all about her promise that she would take Felix to school today.

  “Yeah, shouldn’t be a problem,” she replied. Her meeting with Drake and Agent Stitts to discuss the book lead that she had come up with wasn’t scheduled until ten.

  “Great,” Brad said with a sigh as pee started to splash loudly in the bowl.

  “Gross,” Chase muttered. “I hope you put the seat up.”

  After dressing, she was surprised to see that not only was Felix already wearing his uniform, but he had poured himself a bowl of cereal and was sitting at the kitchen table, munching away.

  All grown up alrea
dy… nine going on twenty-two.

  “Morning,” she said.

  Felix looked up at her, milk dripping from his lower lip.

  “Good morning, mom!”

  Chase smiled and kissed her son on the forehead. As she did, she smoothed a cowlick on the top of his head.

  It stood straight up again the second she pulled her hand away.

  “Let me get some water for that,” she said as she made her way to the sink. “Looks like I’m taking you in today.”

  Chase put her hand under the tap and wet it, then made it back to her son and smoothed his hair again.

  “Wanna stop for a donut before school?” she asked in a quiet voice.

  Felix stopped slurping the milk in his bowl and looked up at her grinning.

  “You sure? Daddy says I can’t—”

  Chase raised one eyebrow.

  “Well daddy isn’t taking you in today, is he? And when you’re with—”

  Her phone buzzed on her hip and she glanced down at it. A frown formed on her lips.

  “I’m sorry, Felix, I need to take this,” she said as she lifted the phone from her belt.

  She turned just as the smile slid off Felix’s face.

  “Sergeant Adams,” she stated.

  “Chase, it’s Agent Stitts. You need to come out to the barn immediately.”

  Chase moved out of the kitchen and lowered her voice.

  “Why? Did we miss something? Did CSU find trace evidence?”

  Agent Stitts sighed.

  “Call Drake. We’re going to need him, too.”

  Chase felt frustration rising in her chest.

  “What? Why? What’d they find?”

  “We didn’t miss anything, Chase. But the killer returned. And there’s another body.”

  Chase felt her blood run cold.

  The killer returned…

  “Are you serious? The same barn?” she nearly gasped.

  “Yeah. I’m on my way now. Want me to pick you up?”

  Chase pictured her BMW in the driveway. She wasn’t sure what Agent Stitts drove, but it was more than likely a rental.

  Her car would be faster.

  “No, I’ll meet you there. And I’ll call Drake.”

  Before Stitts could protest, she hung up the phone and started toward the door. She had only just opened it when she heard Brad’s voice from the upstairs landing.

  “Have a good day at school, Felix!”

  Chase cursed silently.

  “Mom? Where’re you going?” Felix called from the kitchen.

  “Brad, can you get down here for a sec?”

  “I’m in the middle of shaving.”

  “Brad, please.”

  Her husband appeared on the top landing, half of his face covered in shaving cream. He was topless, while his waist covered in a towel. His upper body was softer than Chase remembered, and wondered briefly if this was a consequence of age or neglect. He was still in good shape for someone his age, nearing forty, but just wasn’t as ripped as he usually was.

  “What? What is it?” he asked, seeing the expression on her face.

  Chase looked away.

  “I have to go.”

  “Chase? What is it? Everything all right?”

  Chase continued to stare into the kitchen, unaware that Felix had since come into view.

  “Everything’s fine, but I can’t take Felix in. I have to go—I have to go now.”

  “What are you talking about? I have a meeting in fifteen minutes. I can’t miss this, Chase. Please. Not today. You promised.”

  Chase looked up at her husband, at his pleading eyes, his cheeks and chin half covered in thick shaving cream.

  But then she pictured the faces of the two girls, of Melissa Green and Tanya Farthing, dried blood smeared on their dead lips.

  “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I love you both and I’ll see you tonight. I’ll make it up to you.”

  Chase exited into the cold before either her husband or son could say anything that might draw her back.

  Chapter 26

  “You were gone all night again,” Ryanne said with a scowl.

  Colin ignored her and sipped his orange juice.

  “Hey, I’m talking to you,” she snapped. When Colin still didn’t answer, she slapped his arm with the back of her hand still holding a cigarette. A shower of sparks erupted from where it struck his sweatshirt.

  He jumped to his feet.

  “Shit!”

  As he swatted at the still glowing cherry that threatened to set him alight, he spilled orange juice on his jeans.

  Ryanne laughed.

  “Serves you right. Answer me next time.”

  Colin ground his teeth and fought the urge to respond.

  That was, after all, what she wanted. And he refused to give in. He turned to his daughters instead, both of whom had their backs to him, their faces locked on the colorful cartoon that exploded across the TV screen.

  “Juliette and Colby, grab your boots. I’ll take you to school again today.”

  Neither of the girls acknowledged him.

  “Juliette? Colby?”

  Still nothing.

  Ryanne walked over and swatted Colby in the back of the head.

  “Ow!” the girl whined, spinning around. “What’d you do that for?”

  “Get your fucking boots on. Now!”

  Colin cringed. He hated when Ryanne swore at the girls, let alone smacked them. And yet in her backward sort of way, he could tell that Ryanne was trying to be helpful.

  Which meant that she felt guilty.

  Good. She started this.

  Colin, on the other hand, felt nothing about his little tryst with the girl with the piercings.

  “Fine,” Colby whined.

  Colin’s heart nearly broke at the sight of tears in his daughter’s eyes. He quickly moved between her and Ryanne, and draped a hand over the little girl’s shoulder, noticing as he did that there was a small black hole on his sleeve.

  “And turn off those damn cartoons. I want to watch the news,” Ryanne spat.

  Colin eyed his wife.

  Since when is she interested in the news?

  “Come on,” he said, guiding Colby toward the door. Juliette had since risen with the commotion and hurried after them.

  With their boots laced, their jackets done up tight and hats pulled down low, Juliette and Colby stepped outside.

  “You have to pick them up again today!” Ryanne called after Colin as he closed the door. “I’m doing my yoga class this afternoon!”

  Colin closed his eyes and shook his head.

  “Do whatever you want,” he said under his breath. “We both know you’re going to anyway.”

  When all three of them were finally in the car, he felt the tension in his shoulders release.

  Ryanne was right; he had been out all night. He’d been out all night writing.

  And gaining experiences.

  If only she knew…

  With a smile, he turned to his girls in the backseat, who had started to fight over who got to pick what they were going to listen to on the radio.

  “Hey, you guys wanna do something different today?”

  Colby scrunched up her forehead.

  “We have school today.”

  Colin shrugged.

  “You can skip school today. There’s something that I want to show you guys. What do you say?”

  Chapter 27

  Chase couldn’t believe that she was back here less than two days since she had left.

  It was like a horrible case of déjà vu, only this time it was a different girl in the barn. There was an officer on scene cordoning off the area, and Detective Yasiv was standing by the car smoking a cigarette.

  His hand was trembling as she approached, but he made no move to throw it away this time.

  “Sergeant Adams,” he said softly.

  Chase was furious and fought back the urge to yell at the man. She had put Yasiv in charge of the details, h
ad left it up to him to make sure that everyone dotted their i’s and crossed their t’s.

  To ensure the chain of custody was never broken.

  Despite her promotion to Sergeant, Chase had no illusions that the Deputy Chief himself was unaware of the errors that had been made during the Butterfly Killer case. She was no fool; she knew that her tenure would last only as long as Dr. Mark Kruk—Marcus Slasinsky—was institutionalized and unable to stand trial.

  This wasn’t Mark Kruk bad, but discovering a third body in the barn? That was bad. There was no denying it.

  She sighed.

  “How the hell did this happen, Hank?”

  The man took a drag of his cigarette.

  “I have no idea,” he said while turning to look at the barn. “This is fucked up.”

  “There’s an understatement.”

  “After the ME cleared the bodies, CSU came and took all of the evidence they could find. They gave the go-ahead, and I called Tommy Wilde and he must have cleaned the place in record time. After that, it was released back to the owner. I told a uniformed officer to keep watch, but he must have been called to another crime scene.”

  “And you’re sure—you’re absolutely positive that the body wasn’t here with the others?”

  Detective Yasiv shook his head.

  “No ma’am. We had over twenty people comb the place. It wasn’t here. It’s new.”

  Chase wanted to chastise the man, to yell at him, but couldn’t really fault him. It was protocol to hold a scene for at least a week, but with CSU and Tommy Wilde coming in, there was no chance that anything would be left behind, let alone a body.

  She opened her mouth to say something, when the sound of a car approaching drew her attention. A Taurus pulled up behind her BMW and Agent Stitts stepped out, dressed in a crisp black suit and tie. He strode over to her, his expression grim.

  “Sergeant Adams,” he said with a nod, then turned to Detective Yasiv. “Detective.”

  “I called Drake, he’s on his way. Just had to wrap a few things up first.”

  Chase thought she detected a small scowl appear on Agent Stitts’s face, but it was gone before it fully formed. He tilted his head and stared at the barn.

  “Let’s see what we’ve got.”

 

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