String of Murder

by brett hicks

  She muttered, “Can you find him?”

  Her hazel eyes darkened with a painfully deep fury that only another victim could comprehend. I nodded, and I wiped her cheeks gently, wiping away the tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “I know what you are feeling right now, better than you could ever imagine. I cannot promise you that all will be right in the world again, but I can promise to hunt this sadistic bastard to the very ends of the earth until I have him in chains. That, Avery, is my vow to you.”

  She stared into my very soul with her surprisingly mature gaze. She was yet another example of a child torn from innocence too early. She nodded, and I saw the moment her resolve settled in, I saw her burning fires rekindle, and the ashes seemed to shift around her being, as the hollow half-life shell was rent in two, and the young woman crawled from the flames and the ashes of her trauma. She was far from healed, but I would work with her, I would love her as if she were my own, forever! A woman need not be told that a child is hers to protect, her instincts just know. She would forever love and honor her dead mother, but I swore to myself in this instant that seemed to stretch decades, instead of mere moments, that I would never let her go—I would be a mother to this girl.

  “He had a funny accent, like the people from the boats from Ireland.”

  Avery randomly blurted this, and Bobby looked in from the kitchen. I winked to him and I refocused on Avery. I squeezed her face ever so slightly and I gave her all the support I was capable of giving another being.

  “That’s very good honey, can you tell me anything else?”

  She nodded and said, “Red hair, like the orange-red kind, very bright. He was tall, and he grabbed my momma. We fought, and…”

  I nodded, and I pressed my head to her forehead and I kissed her temple.

  “That’s good honey, that’s so much more than we had before tonight.”

  Avery’s lips quivered, and she sucked down a deep breath, resolving herself to continue.

  “He knocked me out, and when I woke, momma was dead. I hit him with a bat, and I jumped out my window. I thought I was going to die, but then I landed on top of a zepp cab, then I made my way to the ground. After that, I just ran, and I ran. I hid, and I kept running when it was dark out. Then, I got so hungry that I couldn’t stand it anymore, finally, I saw that fat peacock of a woman, so I ran with her purse. Then…”

  I nodded against her head and kissed her temple again.

  “Then we met.”

  I finished for her, and she nodded slightly. Avery leaned into my embrace and she cried. I let it rush out of her, I accepted her pain, her agony, and her suffering. I added it all to what fueled me, what drove me to be a better cop—a better woman.

  “This will pass, though you will never forget your momma. You will remember, forever, but you will live for her, and you will live for yourself. You can still find happiness Avery; your mother wants that for you. I know nothing much about Mary, but I know she would want you to survive this, to thrive in this paint. Use it to fuel you onward, to become everything she knew you were capable of being.”

  Avery sniffled, and she looked up into my eyes.

  “Is that what you did?”

  I felt the hot tear trickle out of my right eye and I nodded slightly, just for Avery. No one else heard the secret exchange. Avery had seen it, and I had not been too subtle about my wording. I trusted the people in this room, so I hoped that whatever they had gleaned from me would stay with them. I knew Avery was not going to say anything, not to anyone. My identity here in Nexus City was forged, a top-notched forgery, but it was a false past. If anyone tried too hard, then they might begin to see through the deception that was my history. Julia Mullers existed on paper alone, not in any physical memories of the people or places of her past.

  “I’m here for you Avery, I’ll always be here for you. I can’t promise that things will be perfect kid, but I will never abandon you.”

  I spoke in a tone that reminded me so much, my long-dead mother. I brushed a hand through her long dark-brown locks and she leaned into me and sniffed. My lifestyle might be a huge downward step for Avery, but she seemed content with this promise.

  “You need to file formal papers immediately, or you might risk someone trying to take her from you.”

  I looked up, Bobby was holding a large tray of coffee mugs. The tray was ill-suited for transporting the larger, and less fanciful mugs, rather than tea saucers. Bobby sat the tray down on the sturdy oak table I had found in a second-hand store for a steal of a price.

  “I know that’s not what you want to hear right this second, but I just figured you would want to make everything legal.”

  I looked to Avery, and I asked, “Do you want me to file to keep you? I will, even though I cannot promise you an opulent life on the skyline.”

  Avery wrinkled her nose in disgust and said, “I hated the skyline, but momma loved it. She liked being so far off the ground, said it made her feel freer, less restricted by the world around her. I just felt out of place, all the kids in my classes were from Britain, so they were mean and snobby to me, the colonial whelp.”

  I stroked my hand through her hair and I snorted.

  “I know a bit about being the odd one in my class, kid. No skyline then, it’s decided. Besides, Maria here might miss us, if we left.”

  Maria nodded, and she sniffed softly and covered her mouth. Avery took the tea Bobby offered her, and we all seated ourselves to relax with our hot beverages and to try to discuss what we could of this case.

  Seventeen:

  Avery was laying down, she had lost a lot of steam after being questioned about the murder, and her own attempted murder. Nothing about this case was what it seemed now. This killer appeared to have a fixation with a single target in each case, but that wasn’t true. He had been as determined to kill Avery as he had her mother.

  More questions began to cloud my already full mind. Bobby had been relatively quiet, besides his phone call to the station to report our findings. The Captain had been breathing down his neck for updates, so giving a suspect description would hopefully smooth the waters between our boss and ourselves.

  Grace was cooking something in the kitchen, it smelled like pasta of some kind and leftover beef cuts. She was a southern girl, so she had some interesting concoctions up her sleeves. Maria was watching Avery’s door like a matron hawk ready to swoop in at any moment.

  I felt my face, as I rubbed my hand over my cheeks, and I noticed that the tears had begun to wash away the thick clay-like make-up covering my scars. I swore to myself, and I rushed off to my bathroom. The top two forks of the scar marring my right cheek were visible now. I fumbled through my cabinets and fished out my thick clay-like skin-colored cream. I rubbed a little in and I smoothed the surface area until my scars were nearly invisible again. I would live like this forever, hiding my most clearly identifiable marks, hiding who I really am. I sighed, and I just stared at the Nordic beauty in the mirror. My short hair was a few inches longer than the last time I checked, I would want to get it trimmed again soon. My blue eyes were red-rimmed, and my lips were dry. I had purple bags forming under my eyes from lack of sleep today.

  Further self-reflection was cut short with the loud ringing the telephone. I stepped out and Bobby handed me the large black receiver.

  “Hello, Detective Julia Mullers.”

  “Julia, it’s me, Jasmine, I have finished my inspection of the body, and I would like you and your partner to come down. I have also rushed and examined the first victim as well.”

  I sagged at the sound of Jasmine’s native Nexus City accent, slightly Irish, but slightly southern as well. Though, Nexus was far enough north to have only traces of the deeply slurred accent further down the colonies.

  “ Okay, thank you, Doctor, we’ll be right there.”

  Bobby arched a brow in question, and I smirked at him.

  “Plan for us in about twenty-five minutes, with any luck the traffic will agree with that
timetable.”

  “Yes, that will be perfectly fine, well, until later then.”

  I heard the loud click and I knew the call had ended. I hung up my receiver and I looked at Bobby.

  “Jasmine has the results of her autopsy ready. She said she has also rushed and performed an autopsy on Mary.”

  “That was fast!”

  I nodded in agreement.

  “I believe the Captain has something to do with this rush. He likely obtained permission for Jasmine to skip the line, so to speak, on her order of autopsies. You know how it is down there, first come, first cut open. She is likely being given freedom to focus on this case for the time being.”

  Bobby snorted, and added, “I love it when the Cap’s weight comes in handy for a change, and not just to saddle up my back like a damn work animal.”

  I chuckled darkly and had much too vivid a picture in my mind of that scene, and I shook my head to try to jar the image loose.

  “Great, now I’m going to have that in my bloody mind all night! You try being an adult with that image in your mind!”

  I exclaimed, and Bobby chortled at me lightly in amusement. Grace walked into the living room and she arched a questioning brown and Bobby parroted back everything that had just transpired, including the image of him being saddled and ridden like a horse. Grace just rolled her eyes, and she tried to hide her amused smile spreading.

  “Well, if it’s okay with you Julia, I want to stay with the young girl. I don’t feel right leaving her by herself right now, not with that animal on the loose.”

  Maria put in, “I live right down the hall anyway, might as well just sit here and do my sewing in your living room. This place could use a real woman’s touch anyhow.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her, but I quickly dropped the faux-hurt act in favor of gratitude.

  “Really, thank you both. I don’t know what I would do without such good friends.”

  Maria beamed at me, and Grace waved a dismissive hand.

  “Aw, sugar, you know that we’ve always got your back. You might drive my Bobby half-way out of his mind on a daily basis, but you’re a good friend. You have any guns I can hold on to, you know, just in case?”

  I smiled and I nodded towards my bedroom.

  I walked in and I dropped to my hands and knees, and I pulled out a small wide wooden box from under my bed. I opened it up and several of the new style nine-millimeters and several fully loaded clips of ammo were now on display.

  “Have you learned these new models yet? If not, I have a few revolvers in the other box.”

  I gestured back under my bed, and Bobby’s eyes widened in shock.

  “You have two full boxes of handguns right under your bed? What’s next, a knife under your pillow?!”

  He walked over, and I cringed, just as he yelped.

  “Son of a… damn, is that a samurai sword!?”

  I popped up and handed the box of guns and ammo to Grace, who began to scan for her perfect fit in small-caliber weapons.

  “It’s a wakizashi, not a katana, you big klutz! Besides, that’s what you get for checking under a lady’s pillow without asking!”

  “What the hell kind of woman keeps an unsheathed Japanese short-sword under her pillow?!”

  I pointed to myself and grinned slightly manic-like. Bobby shook his head slowly and huffed, while he cradled his bloody hand.

  “Somedays, I just don’t know what I did to receive you as a partner.”

  Bobby muttered and faux-pouted at himself, but amusement danced in my light-blue eyes. Bobby gestured towards the bed and said, “How do you take women to that death trap you call a bed?”

  I shrugged and plainly stated, “I don’t, well not lately.”

  Jasmine had not been all that long ago, and I was a very monogamous girl. The problem with being monogamous to the extreme is that you take time to recover after a breakup. Once I fall for someone, my body craves them, not just anyone with the right sexual parts. I fought the urge to spiral into the dark depths that were my tumultuous emotions over Jasmine.

  “Right, sorry Julia, my big mouth got ahead of my mind again.”

  I waved him off and said, “Not to worry partner, you have so many lovely ladies in your life willing to help remind you of your every offense.”

  My smile was instant and wicked. I think I did a masterful job of covering up the rawness of my heart just then, and Bobby was certainly distracted. Grace hummed in agreement and planted her hands on her hips. It was heart-warming to know that I had people in my life who were supportive. While I was still lying to them about some of the most core parts of who I was, they still accepted me, secrets, gayness, and sharp objects, everything that made me, me.

  “You must spend a hell of a lot of your coin on weapons, Julia. Not one dress to be seen.”

  Grace noted, and I waved towards my closet.

  “I have a few formal dresses in there, but I only bring them out if it cannot be helped.”

  She snorted, and her eyes twinkled with mirth.

  “Honey, you make a dress sound like a death sentence.”

  I narrowed my eyes and gestured vaguely, “They are, wearing a corset is a damnable affront to the female body! We are always constricted like a damn snake has wrapped itself around us! Not to mention the fact that the things are damn painful! Why women tolerate being constricted slowly to death, is beyond me!”

  Grace looked at me tolerantly, and she nodded dutifully like a good friend. Bobby looked like he was more absorbed in licking his wounds, so to speak, than our conversation on modest women’s apparel.

  “Will you three keep it down! The little lamb just fell asleep!”

  Maria rushed into the room and chided all of us like we were all her very overgrown children. We all had the common sense to look properly chastised, lest Maria decide to polish up on her parenting techniques! Mainly, before she decided to dust off her old leather strap for spanking naughty young people!

  “Give me a moment, and then we will head out, Bobby.”

  I told my partner, and he nodded in understanding. I crept towards the guest bedroom where Avery was snoozing soundly. The little girl was a mess of brown hair and covers. I walked over to her, and I kissed her forehead gently enough not to wake her, and I brushed a few locks of wild hair from her face. She was like a skinny little angel sleeping peacefully, beyond the realm of real-world nightmares.

  I’ll find this bastard honey, that’s my promise to you! He will hang for all that he has stolen from you!

  My thoughts were like a prayer, a silent wish that this child’s life turns out different than my own had. If she was like me, then I would like to see her prove that we both could live a happy, productive life, even if I had all but given up on living much of a life for myself. I would live for this girl, I would ensure that Mary Sanders did not fail her daughter, nor would her light be snuffed out by this tragedy. I didn’t know the slightly older woman, but I now felt a bone-deep connection to her through Avery, and in some ways, through my own murdered parents.

  Bobby looked in through the door, and he gave me a firm nod, confirming without a single word, the very thoughts I was thinking. He was an honorable gentleman, and he would see this child’s life set back on a proper route. While most the world still judged people on skin color, in this house, and amongst these friends, race, creed, and sexual preference were null and void to our affections towards one another.

  Bobby kissed Grace goodbye, very thoroughly, might I add. She looked at him with love and worry in equal measure. She lived the life of a policeman’s wife, the worry that every goodbye could be the final one. She did not complain, nor did she hold his job against him. Grace accepted her man for who he was, and what he had chosen to become.

  Maria handed us two wrapped sandwiches and said, “Since I know you two will not bother to eat right without some old thing to fuss over you.”

  I grinned and, and I softly thanked her for the offering. Bobby did the same, and then we we
re off.

  “I don’t suppose I could talk you into taking a steam cab, could I?”

  Bobby asked, and I grinned manically again.

  “Me, why ever would I do such a thing, when I have this lightning-fast baby to carry us more swiftly?”

  Bobby looked a bit green around the gills, which was hard to do with his skin tone. Once more, I could enjoy scaring the hell out of Bobby, while I ferried us both to the Morgue.

  Eighteen:

  Jumping free, practically kissing the stone road, Bobby looked white as a sheet—which was an interesting look for an African-Colonial. Other steam engine vehicles roared around us, unabated by our stop. Progress and motion were forever moving forward in the city, even at full night.

  The Colonial Independent Law Enforcement Division headquarters was amid the massive skyline of the deep city. The department had skyline access and some foot patrols around this area. Many steam powered Zepps soared overhead, ferrying the many ritzy patrols to-and-fro. Art exhibits and dance balls were commonplace in Nexus City. Nightclubs for the rich and their exclusive guests were also placed high at the very tips of spire-like structures far above the earth.

  Goods and convenience stores were also placed in the lower segments of the skyline so that patrons could shop without ever touching a single toe on the dirty ground level. Thousands milled about, looking for evening attractions to captivate their minds and bodies. Strong beverage smells spilled out to the streets, and the ripeness of dancers and party-goers could be detected, even at this hour. Nexus was like a never-ending party, and if you were well-to-do, then the party need never cease.

  The large stone building that was our destination, the CILD HQ building, stood at a moderate height, and its topmost floors touched to the first level of the skyline. Many other larger buildings surrounded it, encasing the colonial police in a massive stone, glass, and metal insulated urban jungle.

  Our department building was understated, simplistic, and frugal—as was the budget for our entire branch of law enforcement! This is where I could insert a tirade about my coin, or the fact that I must buy all my own weapons and ammo, but I won’t—much.