The Ripper of Blossom Valley

by S D Christopher

  "Did you see the Sharks game last night?" "Is it cold out? Should I bring a jacket?" "Come on, Aiden! Stop dilly-dallying!" "No, Lance, I don't know if he's coming back." "How could he be with that slut after what she did to him?" "They're all liars, the whole damn lot of them." Let them go, Izzy. Almost to the corner. "I apologize for the late call, but you understand our concern, of course." "Oh sure, I just don't think I've smelled any gas--AAAHHH!!!"

  Wait, what? Was that...? It's him! And he's close! Damn! I left my gun in the apartment. I didn't think I'd need it, but no time to go back. I fumble for my phone and dial 911, hands shaking, as I start running in the direction of her scream. The ringing is excruciating. Plus, I can't ignore all these other conversations I'm hearing.

  "I dunno if I'll get the promotion. I don't think Mark likes me very much, and it's all politics there." "Oh, sure I'd trust a self-driving car, more than half the idiots on these roads, for sure." "911, WHAT IS YOUR EMERGENCY?!" Ow!!! Real smart, Izzy. Leave the phone right up to your ear.

  "Yes, hello, a woman's being attacked, I think she's going to be raped."

  "Alright, ma'am. Where is this happening?"

  Shit. I didn't think of that. "Um, I don't know the address."

  "Ok, what are the cross streets?"

  "Um...I'm not sure."

  "Ma'am, you need to give me a location. Is it a home, a business, outside?"

  Ooh, this one I know. "A house, she lives alone."

  "Alright, can you go to a street corner and read the signs to me, so I can send officers to you?"

  I'm not close enough to know where to send them. Stupid, Izzy. I spot a bicycle to my right. "Ma'am? Are you there?" I look to the phone, then to the bike, then back to the phone. I hang up, hop on, and haul ass.

  Chapter 19

  Troy

  "Are you sure you have to go? I know things have slowed to a crawl, but that could be just when we break this case wide open. Then you'd just have to haul ass right back here."

  "I'm sure. I've held off AD Skinner as long as I can. He thinks it's a waste of time."

  "...Your superior is Assistant Director Skinner? Seriously?"

  "I know. We give him all kinds of crap for it. But he thinks if we haven't found a solid link between our cases by now, we're not going to."

  I raise an eyebrow. "But you still think we will."

  "...I do. Foley's not the only one with good hunches. He hasn't moved on or gotten picked up for something else, like Doyle thinks. He's still here...they're still here."

  I agree. There hasn't been a murder fitting our MO in three months, but Fitch, Frank, and I don't think this is a cold case just yet. They're still out there. So why have they backed off, after becoming more and more emboldened up to and including Judy Stanton? We’ve thrown around some theories, including the possibility that they're planning something bigger, or maybe they had a falling out. Though as Fitch says, "They're all just hypotheses, no evidence."

  We say our goodbyes, and she gives me a quick hug. "If anything changes, give me a call. I'll come right back to help. I'll find a way." I nod, smile, and wave as she walks out of my life. Funny, when we first met, this couldn't have happened quickly enough. But after toiling away the nights alone with her at the precinct, I've grown a healthy respect for her. She's got the instincts of Frank Foley without the experience, or the disdain for most things in life.

  It's a shame that her best theory hasn't panned out for us yet. We've tracked down a handful of people who've moved from Reno to the Bay Area during the time between their murders and ours, but none of them were promising, and only one was even interesting. An older woman, who used to be a card dealer at a casino, ranted for some time about how much the women in San Jose are "just asking for it" because of how they dress. We couldn't hold her simply for being a misogynist.

  Later that night, Frank and I pore over some of these interviews, looking for anything we may have missed. "Finally. Bitch and Farter are gone. I was gettin' tired of lookin' over my shoulder all the time."

  "They weren't so bad." I catch the sideways glance Frank gives me, but don't react to it. "Carter was basically a fly on the wall; he barely got in our way. And Fitch..." What I'd like to say is how I'll miss working with her, but no chance of letting that slip, "...she had some ok theories. Kept us honest."

  "Yeah, I guess...so listen, I was doin' some digging this morning, and I came across this one rape case..." I look over, and he doesn't miss a beat. "Yeah, I know, Jesus, Troy, just listen. She says he claimed he worked for the gas company, said they detected a leak, wanted to check it out in the basement, so she lets him in. Next thing she knows, he's on top of her."

  "Wait, just like..." I look over at our whiteboard, can't remember her name. "Katherine Fisk, right?"

  "Exactly." Frank walks over and sticks a second picture next to Katherine's. "Meet Donna Bowers. And guess what?"

  He's found a pattern. "You talked to PG&E, and there was no report of a gas leak or of them sending anyone over."

  "Right again. So this guy looks all official, wears some kind of field uniform. That's how he gains their trust. And this is two ladies who live alone." Light bulbs start going off in my head, and he sees it. "And here's the kicker--"

  "Their descriptions of him match. Japanese male, 30s, medium build, slightly taller than average, short hair?"

  "Nice job, Sergeant Weathers. Their stories match in a few other ways, too. They both say he claimed he wouldn't kill them, but threatened them with identity theft and financial ruin if they reported him."

  "Huh, so...not our killer."

  "I don't think so, but one more part of their stories makes me think they're connected. They both say he incapacitated them quickly, but neither of them knows how. They say he wasn't especially strong, they just couldn't move." Wait, this sounds familiar. But why? "Isabel Gutierrez."

  Who? "I don't recall the name. Is she another victim?"

  "Nope, she's that wacky Chiquita we talked to a few months back. She claimed to know that our rapist had paralyzed one of his victims somehow."

  "Wait, you're not saying..."

  "I'm saying I think we need to pay Ms. Gutierrez another visit. She knows more than she let on. Right after we talk to Donna Bowers, to see if we can find out if there's anything more she can add than what's in the report."

  My head is spinning. It's thin, but more than we've had to go on in months. At the very least, we can catch a serial rapist, though he's far from our top prize. But if Frank's right, he might be the catalyst that sets off the murders. And Frank's usually right. Funny coincidence that this breaks right after Fitch and Carter leave, but since their cases didn't involve rape, it wouldn't have helped us link them anyway.

  I tell Frank I'll be ready to leave in a few to meet with Ms. Bowers. I've got a good feeling about this.

  ----------

  Frank

  I've got a bad feeling about this. Troy's smart enough to see through me sometimes. I've gotta be careful not to give him too much. I've had Donna Bowers in my back pocket for awhile, holding onto that trump card until Bitch and Farter left. I only put Katherine Fisk on the board once I found out about Ms. Bowers. I knew there was something there, but wasn't gonna let Miss Perfect Pants get involved. I felt shitty holding back on Troy, but I needed Agent Bitch gone.

  Now that I have my partner back, and the murdering assholes seem to have taken a vacation, I can focus on two things: finding this Japanese shitbag and stopping him, and convincing Maiko that things are safe enough for her to come back to life.

  She's been slowly wasting away over the last two months. This has been the longest she's gone without healing since she first discovered her skill. Poor girl hasn't been able to leave the house in almost a month, hasn't eaten much of anything for a week, and can barely keep liquids down. If she was a normal girl, I'd have her in a hospital bed as we speak, getting the best care. But between her medical knowledge and connections, and my EMT training, we're able to keep her at
home where she wants to be. I wonder for how much longer, though. I'm at my wit's end. I need to convince her to heal soon, or she'll be gone forever.

  I feel a little tingle of panic, so I look up and scan the precinct. Nothing obvious here, so I walk the floor, keeping my ears and eyes open. Everyone seems to be going about their business, talking to each other, or on the phone. Everyone has a calm tone... except for Simmons. I make my way over to him, to covertly pass by and listen in on his call.

  "Do you have a location on her cell phone? Nothing more precise? Call was too short...ok, we'll send someone to that area and look around, but with just the cell tower, not sure if we'll be able to find her. Thanks for calling it in."

  I stand by the copier, pretending to wait for a printout. I overhear Simmons make the call over the radio to send a car to the area of Santa Teresa Boulevard and Cottle Road. "A woman called 911, frantic, reporting a rape. Not her, someone else nearby, but she couldn't give an address, just rambled and got cut off before we could get her exact location..."

  Isabel Gutierrez. She knows he's striking again, she just doesn't know where. I need to lose Troy and get to this guy, now. With Maiko. I look over at my desk, and Troy's back, putting on his jacket. I walk back over, in a huff.

  "Hey, Frank. You ready to go?"

  "Nah, change of plans. Maiko just called, says she needs help with something. We'll go when I get back. Hold down the fort here, k?" I don't break stride, as I grab my coat and head to the stairs.

  I barely hear Troy's voice as I walk away, but I can sense the annoyance. "What fort...?"

  I haul ass home and find Maiko sprawled across the floor, piss and shit in a trail leading from her to the bed. Goddamnit, I knew I shouldn't have left her alone for so long. At least it's not much, given she can't keep anything down.

  "I'm sorry...I tried to..." She can barely open her mouth to mumble. I choke back the tears as I lift her off the ground in my arms, smells of waste be damned.

  "It's ok, doll. I gotcha. We're gonna go for a little ride, sweetheart. Gonna make you all better, I promise."

  "No, Frank, I...no..." She can't even stay conscious, let alone put up a fight. I'll be damned if I'm gonna let her die in my arms tonight. I'll deal with the fallout later when she's well enough to chew me a new asshole.

  I clean her up as quickly as I can, leaving the rest on the floor for later. I drop her into the backseat as delicately as I can and race towards Cottle and Santa Teresa. I can only hope that he's still there, that I can pick up on his cold fucking heart, or her terror, if she's still conscious. Nothing so far, and my range is usually pretty good. Fuck me.

  As we approach, I sense something, but not quite what I expected. It's fear, nervousness, for sure, and it's strong. Not sure if it's him or her, but it's the only thing off the scales around here, so I head in that direction.

  I zero in on the house, and it's unassuming, a dull yellow with white trim. Quiet neighborhood, no foot traffic, just our douchebag's scene. But I don't sense him at all, damnit! Too fuckin' slow, Foley. Well, I had a choice earlier: catch him or save Maiko. I'd choose her every fuckin' time.

  I check the front door, then the side, and I'm in luck, side door's unlocked. I go back to the car, pick Maiko up gently from the back seat, and carry her in. She's completely limp now, barely breathing. I can only feel the faintest of heartbeats. Mine, on the other hand, is trying to break through my damn chest.

  I spot the victim lying prone in the living room almost immediately. She doesn't seem awake, but I still feel the fear and nervousness, stronger than ever. Then I hear the creaks of footsteps coming down the stairs. Fuck me.

  Still holding the near lifeless body of my soulmate, I turn and stare down a small Indian woman. She stares back, though amidst my panic, I feel like she's looking through me more than at me. I also sense that she's far more frightened of me than I am of her. I startled her, in fact, and she's not sure what to do. So I help her in that regard.

  "Get out."

  Nothing. Is she fuckin' deaf?

  "Is she ok? What's wrong with her?"

  I don't know if she's talking about Maiko or the girl lying on the living room floor, and I don't much give a rat's ass. "I said...get out."

  Nothing again. She's scared shitless, which is great. Now flee, stupid! Just then, I sense something else. Anger.

  "He doesn't kill them, he only rapes them. Someone else kills them...you?"

  Enough of this shit. I lie Maiko down on the couch and pull my piece. Maybe a gun pointed in her direction will change her mind.

  "I said...GET. THE FUCK...OUT!!!"

  She's trembling, as a tear runs down each cheek. She puts her hands up and slowly walks towards the side door, away from us. It's only then that I notice the taser hanging from her satchel. She never even reached for it. Before I can even process any of that, she runs off, bawling. It was stupid to pull my gun on her. Good thing my badge isn't on my chest right now. At least she has no idea I'm a cop...fuck...the letter. I look back, but she's long gone. Nah, if it was her, she woulda acted like she recognized me. I push it out of my mind and carry Maiko over to the other woman.

  I recall those early days when I had to coax her into taking the leap herself. No time for that, given she's not awake to reason with. I place her hands on the woman lying prone in front of us. I tell her I'm sorry, even though she's asleep. I only now take notice that she's very attractive: long blond hair, tall, slender and toned, definitely works out. And she's completely nude, her clothes tossed a few feet away in a haphazard pile. No bruises or cuts, but her muscles are locked in tight, stiff as boards. This was definitely our guy. The Paralyzer.

  I turn my attention back to Maiko. "Come on, sweetheart, fight," I say aloud, as though she can hear me. Who the fuck knows, maybe she can. "Don't leave me, doll. Not yet. I need you. I might as well be done on this world if you're not here to share it with...please." Now it's me feeling tears running down my cheeks, like the little Indian woman I just scared away.

  This usually works pretty fast, right? Why is it taking so long this time? Does it only feel like an eternity? Is she too far gone? Was I too late?

  "Come on, damnit! Do something!" I check her pulse, barely there. I grab at my hair, looking back and forth between Maiko and blondie. Helplessness isn't a feeling I’m used to, but here it is, staring me in the face, mocking me. All I can think to do is wrap my arms around my love and pray. I haven't prayed since I was nine.

  Hours seem to go by, but it was more likely only a few minutes. I sit up, sweat and tears covering my wrinkly face. I stare at the lifeless body of the only girl I ever loved, and I bury my head in my hands. I haven't cried like this since before I stopped praying.

  "...Fudge?"

  Tell me I didn't just hear that. Trembling, I lower my hands and look up. Maiko is sitting up, eyes half open, drool speckled below her bottom lip. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

  "Jesus fucking Christ, you scared the shit outta me." I hug her as hard as I can, never wanting to let go.

  "Fudge...you're kinda hurting me right now." Stupid me. I loosen my grip, then let go, so I can look into those gorgeous green eyes again, a sight I was worried just a few minutes ago that I'd never see again.

  I apologize as I help her up off the floor, onto a seat on the couch. "I thought I'd lost you." She's wobbly but starting to come to her senses.

  Then she notices the naked woman on the floor.

  "No...this is bad." She's shaking her head, then looks back at me. "Frank, I told you I was done with this. How could you go against my wishes like this? That's just...well, selfish, for one thing. And inconsiderate of my feelings, not to mention this poor woman on the floor who's already been through hell."

  My jubilation quickly turns sour. "Whaddaya mean? You're alive! Doesn't that count for something?"

  I know that look she's giving me. "I didn't ask you to save me. In fact, I told you specifically not to. I can't live like this, Frank." Not Fudge, Fra
nk. This is serious. "I can't live with myself knowing I'm taking something from these women and putting them in even more danger."

  "About that...there hasn't been a murder like this in a couple months now. I think we’re in the clear."

  "Hmmm, since right around the time that I put my foot down? What a coincidence. We're staying here with her. We're calling an ambulance, getting her to the hospital. We will NOT let that psycho take another life. Not tonight."

  That's the fire I miss, what drew me to her all those years ago. I know when I'm beat, and it's best not to tempt fate anyway. I nod and start to think of how to spin this. "You're right. I'll call it in, and we'll stay here. I just need to come up with how we stumbled upon her. I know my reputation of having some sorta sixth sense about these things, but even this would be a bit far-fetched."

  I call for an ambulance and talk through our options with Maiko. Her first suggestion is no good. "We can say we were driving along and noticed a suspicious looking man leaving the house that fit the description of a rape suspect."

  "So why did we come inside the house without a warrant or any proof, and just let him leave?"

  "Oh...shoot. I stink at this."

  "Wait, there is something...there was a 911 call that came in. A woman--"

  "Yes! I finally made it in time!"

  Maiko and I spin around, and wouldn't ya know it. Isabel Gutierrez.

  When she recognizes me, her face contorts, but good. "...you?!?!"

  "No, not me. Well, obviously it is me. I mean, I'm not the killer." I look to Maiko. "We're not the killers."

  She looks unsurprised. "Oh, I know. I heard some of your conversation." Shit, which parts? "But he's coming...and he's close."

  Chapter 20

  Will

  I'm close now, I can smell it. She's ready to pass over, just like the others were. And I'm ready to help. Almost there. No Jess, no Lance, just Will. This feels better, like where I need to be. For now.