DRAINED

by Suzanne Ferrell

  The captain nodded as he considered this. “You’re still working for free, right?”

  Kirk F flashed him his patented grin. “Just working for experience.”

  “Okay, but you stay out of the news and out of trouble, okay? Jeffers,” he said, this time focused on Aaron.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “You and Special Agent Smith need to be with me for the news conference,” he looked at the clock, “in forty minutes. I want to give a minimum of information about our victim, the situation in which we found him, and limit the questions.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Stedaman arched a brow at Carson. “Any chance we can keep the serial killer part out of the news or is it better to just get it out there?”

  Carson tilted his head in a half-shrug. “The less attention we focus on his process and the serial nature of the case, the more likely we are to trigger him into making more mistakes.”

  “We’ll just talk about this case then and hope no one asks any questions.”

  * * *

  “Saw the news conference,” Matt said as he, Carson, Brianna and Aaron all sat in the living room at the safehouse. Katie had Paula off in her room for another breathing treatment.

  They’d arrived just after two, having spent thirty minutes in front of not only the local news crews, but several national ones. Kyle Dandridge hadn’t played football long, but his career’s highs and his quick exit had been fodder for sports broadcasters during that short stent. His death dredged up those same commentaries on the dangers of steroids in sports, although his death wasn’t due directly to his drug use.

  “Yeah, the captain was actually glad when the reporters zeroed in on Kyle’s steroid history instead of the way he was found,” Aaron said, leaning back in his seat.

  “Did you find anything on the videos that might help?” Matt asked.

  “No close up of the guy’s face,” Carson said. “He wore a baseball cap and kept his head down, so facial recognition was a bust.”

  “But,” Brianna said as she stroked Stanley’s fur where he sat snuggled in her lap, “We did catch the van he was using at all three crime scenes. It was white and he’d put the city of Cleveland logos on the sides.”

  “So, he has access to the city maintenance vehicles?” Matt asked.

  She smiled. “No. He used a large version of the city logo to make his truck look official. Problem is, the logo isn’t used on the side of city vans, maintenance or any other kind.”

  “So, he’s made his second mistake,” Carson said. “He’s used the wrong kind of logo and we now know what kind of van he’s using.”

  “We’re you able to get the plate number?”

  “Yes, but it was stolen,” Aaron said.

  Stanley sat up and growled at the front door.

  Suddenly, it pushed opened.

  All three men were on their feet in an instance with their weapons drawn and trained on the door.

  “Whoa, dudes,” Kirk F said, holding up his laptop in one hand and a huge brown bag in the other. Behind him stood Jaylon, who also held up two more bags of food. “We come bringing information and stuffed cabbage and pierogis from Sokolowskis.”

  “I figured you’d be at Nana’s house for dinner,” Aaron said putting his weapon away and setting the front door alarm again once the pair were inside. Matt followed the two younger men into the kitchen.

  Kirk F deposited his laptop on the table, then started unloading take away boxes from the bags. “Nah, Sunday breakfast at Nana’s is required, as is Sunday church. Today being the exception. And Sunday evenings she goes to dinner with her ladies’ group before bible study and I get take away. I was telling Matt about pierogis yesterday and he said he’d never had any.”

  “And if you’re gonna try pierogis for the first time, you should have one of the best,” Jaylon joined in. “So, Pierogis Of Cleveland was on the way and we stopped to get some.”

  “Did you have a chance to get the list of volunteers?” Aaron asked, bringing silverware, just as Matt and Katie joined them.

  “Already had it,” the younger detective said with a grin.

  Aaron exchanged a surprised look with Brianna. “You did?”

  Jaylon nodded as he grabbed one of the takeout boxes of food and a fork then a seat at the table. “Yeah, when Special Agent Smith here suggested the killer might try to insert himself in the investigation somehow by becoming part of their world. Figured he wouldn’t be faking being homeless. Street people can smell that a mile off. So, I started getting lists of volunteers from all the shelters. They’re in my backpack.”

  “Yeah, then we compiled the names with pics from the DMV, eliminating any females,” Kirk said between bites of food. “And made copies for you guys. Figured our girl, Paula could take a look.”

  “Were you able to get pictures of all the volunteers?” Carson asked, opening a box and sniffing the contents. “Damn this smells good.”

  “Did any of the names appear on more than one list?” Matt asked, handing cutlery to everyone else and they joined the pair of hungry young men at the table.

  “No and no,” Jaylon said, then looking around gave a little whistle. “This is a safehouse? We usually get a room at a no-name hotel downtown.”

  “It belongs to a friend of ours,” Katie said, coming out of the bedroom and closing the door behind her. “Castello used nice houses like this to stash witnesses in WitSec or waiting to go to trial for big cases. Said he didn’t want people jumping ship because they were in some cheap motel. Figured they’d stay put if they felt safe and comfortable.”

  “He said all that, did he?” Matt asked with one brow arched and a half-grin at his wife.

  She grinned back and shrugged. “More or less.”

  The couple, along with Kirk F, Aaron and Brianna, and even Carson laughed, leaving Jaylon confused.

  “What’s the joke?”

  “Castello uses as few words as possible to communicate,” Matt said.

  “He’s not that bad,” Katie defended him.

  Kirk F nearly choked on his food before staring at her. “No? He’s got that one look, you know the one that when he gives it to you, you’re not sure if he just wants you to shut up or he’s planning to shoot you for talking.”

  “Sounds like a real nice guy,” Jaylon said.

  “Kept my wife safe in WitSec for ten years, then helped save her from a hitman. Wouldn’t want anyone else on my six,” Matt said and everyone else, including Brianna who’d gotten to know the former Deputy U.S. Marshal when she was awaiting the trial three years ago, nodded their agreement.

  The bedroom door opened, and Stanley scampered across the house to jump into Paula’s arms as she emerged. “Hello, boy,” she said, coming to the table.

  “Paula, this is my partner, Jaylon Halloway,” Aaron said as she slipped into an empty chair next to Kirk F. “Jaylon, this is Miss Paula Nowak, our second witness.”

  Jaylon reached across the table and shook her hand. “Glad to meet you, Ms. Nowak.”

  She smiled shyly. “Just Paula, please.”

  “Sure thing, just Paula,” he said, with a wink and a grin, which made the young woman laugh.

  Katie hurried over to get some silverware for her. “You’re just in time for some cabbage rolls and,” she paused to look at Kirk F. “What are these again?”

  “Pierogies,” he and Paula answered at the same time.

  Kirk F held up one of the stuffed dumplings for Paula to see. “We got potato-cheese ones and some cooked apple ones, too.”

  “I thought I smelled something good.” She took a seat and Brianna set a meal box in front of her. “I love pierogies. Best part of living in Cleveland.”

  That lead to a dinner time discussion about the things they all loved and hated about their city. The mild summers versus the freezing cold and damp winters. The diversity of people, cultures and food options. When they finally landed on sports, the opinions were mixed. All of them, including Matt and Katie were die-ha
rd Browns fans, even though there hadn’t been a winning season for the team in years, while Carson was the lone holdout for the Cowboys. The Cavaliers basketball team had mixed reviews, as the women really didn’t like the sport, but the two younger men really thought the team might do better this next season. And finally, they landed on Brianna’s favorite sport, baseball.

  “Most boring sport ever,” Kirk F said, trying hard to hide his grin. Having lived with her for a year, the kid knew how she felt about her baseball team.

  “That’s because you think everything has to be in motion constantly,” she said, pointing her fork his direction. “I told you before, it’s a thinking person’s game. The math is incredible, and you have to take into consideration the strategy of the other team, the pitching matchups, and physical skills of each player.”

  “How do you think they’ll do this year?” Matt asked.

  “It depends on their hitting. They statistically have the best pitching rotation in baseball.”

  Kirk F shook his head. “Now she’s gonna start quoting numbers.”

  “Well, they do,” Brianna said, warming up to the subject. “Last year they had an earned run average of three point seven-six, best in the majors. A WHIP, that’s walks and hits per innings pitched, of one point two-two-three, again the lowest in the majors. Strike outs per nine innings of nine point four-four.”

  “The best in the majors,” Kirk F said with a mocking eye roll

  “And, one thousand five hundred eight strike outs,” she said refraining from slugging her friend and looked at Matt. “They have a possible six-man rotation. Almost unheard of in the modern era of baseball. If they can get some good hitters on a roll and minimal injuries in one hundred sixty-two games, they’ll make the playoffs again.”

  She stopped talking and realized everyone was staring at her.

  “She likes numbers,” Aaron said matter-of-factly and reached for the last pierogi in his box. “Paula, when you’re done with dinner, I’ve got some pictures I’d like you to take a look at.”

  “Pictures?” Paula went pale and shook her head. “I can’t look at pictures of dead people.”

  “No, not dead people,” Brianna said, laying her hand over Paula’s cold one. “Drivers licenses. Of the volunteers from the church.”

  Paula visibly relaxed and the color returned to her face. “Oh. Oh, you want me to see if one of them might be the killer?”

  “Yes,” Jaylon said, going for his backpack.

  Aaron began clearing the table of empty food boxes and gave Kirk F a nod to come help. Cason joined them. Matt went for Stanley’s leash and the pup darted to his feet to go outside. Brianna realized that without a word among them, the men were giving Paula space. Space to view the pictures at her own pace and not to pick one just because she felt pressured to do so. Taking her cue from them, Brianna gathered up the silverware and empty glasses to load into the dishwasher.

  “We’ll go into the living room,” Aaron said quietly to her, then looked at Kirk F. “We can go over what you found about the possible murder locations while she looks at the pictures.”

  32

  Seated across from their witness, Jaylon laid the stack of papers he’d printed out on the table face down in front of Paula. “Take your time and look at one carefully before moving on to the next one. Remember, he may or may not be in this bunch, so if you can’t identify him there’s no big deal. Okay?”

  “Okay,” she said, laying her shaking hand on the stack.

  “Before you start looking,” the dark-haired lady named Katie said, sitting quietly beside Paula, “I want you to close your eyes like you did this morning and go back to that last time you saw Art. Don’t force it but try to bring that image of the man sitting across from him into your mind.”

  “But I didn’t see his face,” Paula said, sounding doubtful.

  “I know, but you know this man. Something in the way he sat with Art may click when you see his image.”

  “What if he doesn’t have a drivers license? I don’t.”

  “We’re pretty sure he does, but he may have an out of date one, or an out of state one, or even gave a false name to the volunteer leaders. It’s okay if you don’t see him,” Jaylon repeated. “There were a few men on the list without a DMV photo, so we’ll look at those names on my list after you go through the stack. Okay?”

  She nodded, then closed her eyes.

  Jaylon watched her take slow breaths in and out. She was a pretty girl, too young for him. Too wary, too. She had a past, and he’d bet a week’s salary that it was ugly and full of emotional potholes. He’d been a detective three years, worked with Aaron for two and he’d gotten pretty good at reading people. In the time he’d come to the homicide unit, he’d learned that people would do horrible things to others, some lived in the muck and mire of depravity and never climbed out, others struggled to find their way and some made it. Relationships could build you up or destroy you. He’d made a promise to himself, he’d only have relationships that were positive and didn’t take a lot of emotional work. Someone that had that look of fear and suspicion in her eyes, like Paula did, was not on his interested list. She was just a witness.

  “Are you ready?” Katie asked.

  “Yes,” Paula said and opened her eyes. Turning over the first page, she studied it a moment. “That’s Mr. Carmicle. It wasn’t him.”

  “You’re sure?” Jaylon asked.

  She lifted her brown eyes to him. “Yes. He was standing two people down from me in the serving line.”

  He nodded and marked him off his list.

  She turned over the next picture and quickly shook her head. “That’s Mr. McNamara. He’s in his sixties and has a bad knee.”

  “We’ll cross him off, too,” Jaylon said and gave her a little smile.

  Paula blushed, but went on to the next image.

  They continued this way for several more pages, eliminating one after the other for either obvious physical impairments that meant they couldn’t be the killer and move dead bodies, or because she verified they weren’t the man seated across from Art that night.

  Then she turned over another page and froze.

  “Paula?” Katie asked.

  She pointed at the picture, her hand shaking. “It’s him. It’s Stephen.”

  A hush fell over the house.

  Jaylon glanced into the living room, to see Aaron and the others staring back. His heart racing with excitement that they’d identified their serial killer, he forced himself to sound calm as he leaned a little closer to study the picture of the rather average looking white man with shoulder-length dark hair and sort of long, fleshy features, and asked, “Are you sure?”

  She nodded then swallowed. “It’s the birthmark.”

  “Birthmark?” He didn’t see any birthmark on the man’s face.

  “It’s behind his right ear and down onto his neck. They call it a something wine?” She turned to Katie for help.

  “A port wine stain,” she said with a smile and patted Paula on the back. The others came to the table to join them. Each of them looking over the picture of the man.

  Jaylon lifted the picture to study it closer. “I can’t see that on here.”

  “It’s not,” Paula said, assurance in her face and voice. “I saw it when I was looking at his back in my mind. It’s small, about the size of a quarter, and usually almost unnoticeable, because he keeps his hair long to cover it.” She pointed to the man in the picture’s right side where the hair covered his ear. “But the last night I saw Art, the man across from him had his hair shoved up in a blue and yellow striped knit stocking cap. Like he was trying to hide who he was. I forgot he had a birthmark when I’d glanced his way. But it was there, right where I’d seen Stephen’s once.”

  Brianna and Aaron looked at each other

  “Blue and yellow,” Brianna said.

  Aaron slowly nodded. “Like the team up North’s colors, just like Carmen told us.”

  “Who’s Carmen
?” Kirk F asked.

  “A homeless woman who saw the journalist with Kyle. Said he wore an ugly colored hat. Michigan’s colors.”

  “Stephen Armbruster,” Jaylon read the name on the license. Then he quickly flipped through the lists of volunteers he’d gotten from several of the other homeless shelters. “He’s there on three other lists.”

  “What’s the address?” Aaron asked, pulling his phone out.

  “1127 Ramona Ave in Lakewood.” Shit. They’d have to get the suburban cops involved. The captain wasn’t going to like that.

  “Kirk F,” Aaron called, and the kid was at his elbow with his laptop. “See if you can find out if this guy works in any of the local blood banks.”

  “And hospitals,” Katie said.

  “Gonna take me a minute,” Kirk F said, sitting by Paula once more typing away on his computer. She spelled out the last name to him and the pair worked on searching their lists.

  Aaron moved back into the living room and signaled Jaylon and the others to join him.

  “How do you want to handle this?” Jaylon asked.

  “If Kirk F can get us a name of where he’s employed, we’re going to need to hit both that place and his residence at the same time,” Aaron said.

  “You want to take SWAT to his home and a quieter group to his work?” Jaylon asked.

  “Yeah, I’ll go with SWAT and you take the warrants division with you. That way we have experienced takedown people at both places.”

  “You should also consider sending people into the homeless community to look for him,” Carson said. “He may be out hunting for his next victim, since he got so much media attention from this one.”

  “Patrol can handle that,” Jaylon suggested.

  Aaron nodded, hitting the buttons on his phone. “First, we bring in Stedaman and get warrants ASAP.”

  As he walked into the other room to talk with their captain, Jaylon picked up the photo of Armbruster’s license and went to the far side of the kitchen to call in the All Points Bulletin. He’d need the man’s stated height and weight for the APB, as well as the description of the white van with the fake city logo on the sides, just in case the guy hadn’t removed the decals. Who knows? Maybe they’d get lucky and someone would pull him over with evidence inside the van.