“Ma'am, ma'am you are safe with us. We’re all cops. We won't hurt ...agh!! YOU BIT ME!”
Josie looked around, and realized that besides this large man holding her down her arms and legs were free. She saw his eyes. They had no feeling. They were dark and emotionless. She must be hallucinating because he was being quite gentle for someone she thought was trying to hurt her. Perhaps he was underestimating her. Her petite frame usually gave strangers the idea she was weak. Always go with your first instinct, escape! She would teach this oversized baboon a thing or two. As soon as he started talking, she acted. She looked around and made sure she had enough room to run. She would never be a victim again. She bit with all her might, and as soon as she felt the hand come off her face, she jumped and ran out the door.
“Woah! Hold it there.”
“Let me go. Let me go!”
“I don't think so.”
“Let me go! Who are you?”
“I'll be asking the questions here.”
“I don't know anything! What happened to my mother?”
“Who is your mother? Who are you?”
“I need to go. Let me go.”
“What is your name?”
“I don’t know! I don’t know! Let me go!”
“Why do you think something happened to your mother?”
“Do you think I'm dumb or blind, or perhaps both?”
Josie continued to struggle against the arms holding her, but it was impossible. He was a giant with a vice grip. He was holding her tightly and the more she moved the steadier his grip became. She was not going anywhere.
When the man did not answer, Josie looked at him trying to figure out what was going on. Did they think she had done this to her mother? Why was there blood all over the place? “Is my mother dead?”
Still no answer.
“You think I killed her, well I didn't. The last time I saw her she was fine.”
Still no answer, the man was infuriating.
“Listen to me. I have a kid I have to pick up. My mom and I had an argument, but I didn’t kill her.”
“Let's start from the beginning. Give me your name please.”
“I am Josie. My mother is Ivonne. This is her house.”
“When was the last time you saw your mother?”
“Thursday, when we moved out.”
“Who is we?”
“My daughter and I. She is only six. I need to go.”
“You mentioned an argument.”
“The argument is personal.”
All he did was raise an eyebrow.
“Okay, I get it. She was upset because I wanted independence and she wanted control. She was upset. Period.”
“Why were you moving?”
“Didn't you just hear me? I'm almost twenty-four with a kid. It was time for me to be on my own. How did she die?”
“We don't know yet. Why don't you tell us?”
“Aghh! You are not listening. I told you I didn't kill her. Who are you anyhow?”
“I am Special Agent Parker, and I am investigating this case.”
“Is that my mother? Of course this is her house, but is that really my mother? I need to see her.”
“You can’t yet. Evidence.”
“You don't seem to understand. I need to see her. It’s important. I need to know that it's not her in there. If my mother were dead I would feel it all the way to my soul, so she cannot die.”
Besides, it would all be my fault. Josie wanted to scream in frustration. She didn't want or need any more guilt, and for her mother to die like this would mean guilt for the rest of her life. That could not be her mother. Oh, please God don't let it be my mother. She thought.
“Well, actually, I don't understand. One minute you are screaming that it's your fault and the next you are telling me that she’s not dead. Do I understand this correctly?”
“How can I answer that when I don't understand it myself? I need time to think.”
“Let's start at the beginning. What is your fault?”
“Nothing. It's my fault I didn't do anything.”
“Okay, what makes you believe she is dead?”
“Are you for real? Did you just ask me that question?”
“Okay, let's recap. You are here because ... well you haven't told me why and you and your daughter just moved out, but then again you are here. Why are you here?”
“I forgot my laptop and a few personal items when I moved out. I wanted to get them before my mother got home from work.”
“Wouldn't that be breaking and entering?”
“Not if it's my mother's house. Is it?”
“You moved out. It stops being your home.”
“But those are my things. I just didn't finish moving, yet.”
“I need you to wait here, I would rather not have to cuff you, so please don't try anything.”
“Oh! You mean like running away, or perhaps disturbing evidence or better yet...”
“ENOUGH. Sit and wait.”
“Should I wag my tail, too?”
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.
Matthew 11:28
Chapter 6
Special Agent Jones was standing to the side talking with detective Tom Kincaid, when Special Agent Parker approached.
“What do you think Tom?”
“She needs to be taken in for questioning.”
“You believe her guilty?” Asked Special Agent Jones.
“It is a possibility, but not necessarily.” Said Tom.
“You are going to take over? It's your jurisdiction.” Jerome directed the question to Tom, who shook his head.
“Jerome, I'm surprised you are willing to give me this.”
“Excuse me?”
“Well, for as long as I have known you, finding the killer was a challenge you wouldn't pass up. Now you’re just giving it to me.”
“I just assumed you wanted this.”
“As much as I may want this, I am training a rookie and Alexandria is ready to pop any minute. I just can't take on anything else at the moment. I can give it to another detective right now but the reason you called me was because you wanted me, so I'm giving you the choice of taking the case yourself or giving it to Gaston.”
“Not Gaston, please not Gaston,” exclaimed Josie.
“Lady, you need to stay out of this, and please stop eavesdropping.”
“Well, if you baboons are going to speak so near me I'm going to have no choice but to hear what you are saying.”
The three men looked at the woman sitting on the sofa. One was ready to burst out laughing, one looked sternly at her, and one was so angry veins were popping out on his forehead.
Kincaid looked at his best friend with amusement and then at the other agent who was standing with them, looking as if he had sucked a lemon. If this is what Jerome had to work with day in and day out, he was not surprised about the misery Jerome was feeling.
“Okay Jerome, my recommendation is that you take her in for questioning and keep her overnight for her own safety. What is your opinion Jones?”
“We would have to take her in to a local jail. Personally, I don't think she belongs there.”
“What other recommendation do you have?”
“Well, after questioning is over, you let her go on her own recognizance.”
Kincaid just shook his head.
“Talk,” said Jerome.
“Okay, about six months ago, I remember reading a case where the woman had been decapitated and left in the trunk of another woman's car. Well, what caught my attention was that a week later, another woman was found dead. Same M.O. and then a week later, one more. There were a total of three women killed. The killer was never found. There were no leads, no fingerprints, no strangers in the area, and everyone interviewed had alibis. If I were you, I would either arrest her or keep her glued to my hip – at least until I read the file from these oth
er three women. They might not be related at all, but you want to make sure before you let her go that she is not next.”
“Somehow, I feel that there is something she’s not telling us.”
“I know there is a lot more, I just can't put my finger on it.”
“That's it? You want us to keep her; put her in some sort of protective custody without a reason? You know how expensive that is?”
Jerome had had enough with Jones. He stood so close to him, Jones’s eyes widened to the point of popping out of his head. Through gritted teeth, he said, “Don't you think, seeing this room, that there is enough evidence to believe she’s in danger? We do not put a price on a human life.”
Tom knew Jerome and knew there was nothing to worry about. Jerome was not the kind of person that would begin a fight, unless otherwise provoked. In most cases, when that happened, he had his opponent on the ground within thirty seconds. Tom continued speaking as if nothing had happened between the other two.
“I remember reading the file. I just don't remember the details. Anyhow, if this is a copycat or the killer has decided to start again, then I think she needs to stay with you Jerome. She needs to be under protection and Jones is right; bureaucracy won't let you put her under any protection.”
“How do I keep her safe and investigate the case at the same time?
“Simple, she moves in with you. You have the extra room. In the day time she goes to work while you investigate. When she is surrounded by teachers and students, she will be safe. You just have to keep her safe after hours.”
“Yippie, do!” Said Josie.
“Lady, I don't like this any more than you do. You said you had a kid?”
“Yes, she’s six, and don't even think about it. Wherever I go she goes.”
“Well, she’d better be well behaved, I don't like children.”
2 Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, 3 because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.
James 1:2-3
Chapter 7
Maria Esperanza was ready to scream, what had she been thinking when she agreed to babysit today of all days? Her life was complicated enough without adding an extra child to the mix. She did not need the extra worry. She felt that her whole world was collapsing around her and she couldn't do anything about it.
Her own kids and Vicky, who were usually agreeable, were being overly argumentative. She had not seen her boys acting so jumpy and out of control in a long time. On top of that this child, whom she loved with all her heart, was acting bipolar. One minute Vicky was crying, the next she was laughing and playing with the boys, and immediately after, she was whining and complaining. There was no pleasing her.
Maria Esperanza could not help but feel compassion for her and tried to appease her by baking cookies with the kids. Unfortunately, that had lasted until one of the boys bumped Vicky's elbow. She got so upset, she swung about as to hit someone and down went all the eggs onto the floor. Her temper was something Maria Esperanza had not experienced in the past. She tried to turn the television on, but the child was not happy with any of the shows that were age appropriate.
When Vicky had said she was thirsty, Maria Esperanza tried to give her milk, juice or water, but no, she wanted soda, and diet at that. She had gone thirsty of her own choosing. If there was something Maria Esperanza had inherited from her father, it was that stubborn Italian temper he was famous for. Unfortunately for Vicky, Maria Esperanza would never reward bad behavior.
Poor Josie, she had her work cut out for her. Although Josie had complained in the past about grandma overindulging the child, Maria Esperanza had not realized the extent of the damage. No wonder Josie had been so desperate to move. With her mother taking most of her salary for the so called house expenses, it had taken her several months to save the money for their little place, and little it was. Her whole place could fit into Maria's kitchen.
Maria looked at the kids who had finally settled down and took the opportunity to get the mail. As she looked at the envelopes, she saw a few bills she would pass to her brother. There was a card for her mother and a couple of pieces of junk mail she would put in the garbage and then…Why now? It had been so long since she had received anything unwanted. She knew she had to open the envelope, but she really didn't want to. She had been receiving so many blackmail letters and there was nothing she could do about them.
Thanks to her own stupid actions and her immature behavior, she had been responsible for her father's death and now the safety of all those she loved. She saw no way out of it. She had to do what she was told. She had stopped being her own person a long time ago. If her brother was in town, perhaps she could confide in him, but right now she had no one.
The only thing she wanted to do right now was go to her room and cry. She couldn’t though, if she let her eye off Vicky for more than a second, the world might just end. She was not going to worry about the mail right now. She had to make sure the kids did not kill each other, or worse – destroy the house as they did it. At least she hadn't lost her sense of humor, Maria Esperanza thought.
Once she calmed down she would find a way out of the mess she was in, but right now she was exhausted. When was Josie going to come and get her child?
You are my refuge and my shield;
I have put my hope in your word.
Psalm 119:114
Chapter 8
Agent Parker was securing all the evidence, he wanted to make sure he missed nothing. He got his cell phone and took pictures of every section of the house. He knew the forensics team had taken care of everything, pictures included, but he liked having his own copies of everything. He took pictures especially of every stain and their location from different angles. He wanted to get inside the killer's head. He wanted to walk the same way the killer had gone. He wanted to see everything the killer had seen. He looked around and saw the neatness of the house. Was this how the house normally looked?
“Ms. St. Clair, is this how your mom's house normally looks?” He asked Josie.
She took the time to look around. She saw all the people, coming and going. She saw the numbers on the floor labeling the bloodstains and other evidence they had found, and she saw the coffee stains still on the kitchen wall. No, this was not how her mother's house normally looked. Her mother's house was calm and empty. Her mother had not even allowed her to bring more than two friends at a time over. Her mother didn't like people. Her mother didn't like noise. Plain and simple, her mother didn't like drama or chaos.
“It's always neat. If that's what you are asking.”
“It is. Can you tell me anything else about your mom? About the house? About anything?”
“What do you mean?”
“I saw how your breathing changed as you looked around.”
“You're seeing things, but if you want to know my thoughts, I am surprised my momma did not wipe the coffee stains from the wall yet. Normally, she would have wiped up the mess before it actually happened.”
“Are you saying that your mother is obsessively neat?.”
“Not really, she just didn't like messes, if Vicky was playing with her toys, it never bothered my mother, however, if Vicky had left a mess, my mother would have gone mad.”
“I don't see any toys around.”
“I either took them with me or I put them in my room.”
So that answered one of his questions. “Can you tell if there is anything missing here?”
“As far as I can tell, everything is as it should be. Nothing missing, nothing added.”
“Thanks”
He continued taking pictures. He wanted to read the file from Mississippi and see if there was anything in common in the two places. He needed to find something to guide him on how to proceed. He looked around and stared at the backyard – nobody was there. Why was there no forensic team there?
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“Has anyone checked outside for evidence?” Asked Parker.
“It has been so wet lately that I didn't think we would find anything,” said Jones.
Parker did not say a word, but went outside to look for himself. Jones was supposed to be an experienced agent but he was lazy and careless. Moving to this unit was a mistake he would have to rectify as soon as possible. There was definitely more money, but it was certainly not worth it.
He checked the surrounding area, but between the last rain and the many hours that had passed since the murder, there was no evidence to be collected. He crouched down to look. Behind the bushes were indentations on the ground. He got closer to inspect, and realized that the dirt had sunk in where someone had pulled a plant from the ground, roots and all. Someone had most likely pulled a large weed. He marked it just in case he was wrong.
He continued to walk the perimeter of the small yard, and every so often he crouched down looking for something, anything that might lead him to the killer.
After walking the perimeter of the small yard, he ended up on the side entrance. The killer had escaped through this back door. He could see traces of blood under the latch. He marked that as well. He did a slow 360-degree turn to see if he was missing something before he continued through the gate. As he walked through, paying attention to the ground, he was surprised to feel the door hitting him. He felt a sharp sting on his leg and saw his pant leg. Darn! He loved these pants. After further inspection, he realized he was bleeding. Good thing he was up to date on his tetanus shot.
He approached the door to inspect it and saw a large nail protruding. If this nail had snatched someone else, it was possible that the killer’s DNA was on that nail. He marked the nail for forensics. He knelt down one more time and looked all around. There was nothing. He needed to find something. He knew that there was no such thing as the perfect crime. He walked the side of the house a few feet from the gate and stopped one more time. He did a slow three sixty turn looking at every angle of the yard. He knelt to look behind the bushes one more time and BINGO! Nobody could commit a crime without leaving any evidence behind.
He needed to get the forensic team here and he needed pictures of the evidence. For good measure he got his cell phone out and took more pictures. He was planning on piecing this case together before he went to bed tonight. There was no way he was going to keep that woman and her daughter in his home any longer than necessary. His home was his sanctuary. He liked his peace and quiet, not the chaos that came attached to children and women.
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