DRAINED

by Suzanne Ferrell

  * * *

  “You’re staying in the SUV,” Aaron said again as he, Carson, and Brianna waited for Captain Stedaman and the SWAT team’s van to arrive. They’d contacted the local suburban police to give them a heads up about the raid they were about to make on Stephen Armbruster’s home. Two of the local’s squad cars sat at opposite ends of the block where the house was located.

  “Yes, sir,” Brianna said, and he could hear a trace of humor in her voice.

  “I mean it, Bri,” he looked in the rearview mirror at her in the backseat, wanting her to understand just how serious this was. “No matter what happens outside or in that house, you don’t leave this car. You’re not official and this guy might be crazy enough to fire a weapon. This car is bulletproof. Promise me you’ll stay here. Don’t make me regret letting you come along.”

  The humor had gone from her eyes and she nodded. “I promise not to get out of this car unless you tell me to.”

  He should have left her at the safehouse with Paula, Katie, and Kirk F. She’d be a damn sight safer there. But they’d started this journey together. Hell, she’d been the one to see a problem, although at that luncheon so many days ago, neither of them thought they’d end up searching for a serial killer. So, when she asked to come along with him and Carson, he’d agreed, but only if she stayed inside the SUV until they had Armbruster in handcuffs.

  While they were hitting his home, Jaylon and Matt were going with the warrants squad to the blood bank Kirk F had finally established as Armbruster’s place of employment. That was going to be a mess no matter if they found the killer there or not. Someone was going to have to break the news to the administrators that they’d been using harvested blood.

  Coroner Investigator Anita Ramos was tagging along with that group to do some preliminary DNA testing of the blood they had on hand. If they found a match to Art’s or Kyle’s blood, then they’d confiscate it as evidence. She’d explained to them that Mia’s blood had probably hit the system six months ago when she’d gone missing since blood—stored with the right coagulant and ideal temperatures of two to six degrees Celsius—could only last for forty-two days. The likelihood that they’d find Mia’s DNA in the blood currently in the system was impossible.

  Headlights flashed in the rearview mirror as the SWAT van pulled onto the block, stopping just behind Aaron’s vehicle.

  “They’re here,” he said, opening his door then he paused and looked over his shoulder at Brianna. “Keep your phone handy. Just in case.”

  She held her hand up, the phone already in it to show they’d been thinking the same thing. “Be careful, you two,” she said as he and Carson exited. Aaron hit the door-lock button on his key fob. Not so much locking her in as locking out anyone trying to get to her.

  33

  Matt stood just behind Jaylon as he filled the warrants team in on who they were looking for. Each member of the team was handed a copy of Armbruster’s drivers license so they could identify him immediately.

  “It’s the evening shift, so there should be fewer staff in the building,” Jaylon said. “The warrant isn’t just to apprehend our suspect, Stephen Armbruster, but to search the entire facility, whether he’s inside or not. Investigator Ramos and her team will be taking samples from all the blood in stock to test for DNA against our victims.”

  “Did you say the bagged blood may be from victims in the morgue?” one of the warrant officers asked.

  “That is what we believe,” Jaylon said and paused, giving them all a chance to digest the information.

  Matt liked how this young detective was handling the case and the instructions to an entire team of trained professionals. Precise and to the point. Kid was a good leader.

  “Well, shit,” the warrant team’s sergeant and oldest member finally said, summing up what the others were obvious thinking. This assignment wasn’t just serving an arrest warrant, but something much bigger.

  Jaylon nodded, folding his copy of the license, and putting it in his pocket. The others followed suit. “Right. So, no matter if we find our man or not, the forensic team will be scouring the files and testing the blood for a while, depending on how much blood is currently on site. Once we’ve either got our man in custody or cleared his presence in the facility, you’re good to go and my team will stay behind. Okay?”

  “Okay. Let’s lock and load, people,” the team leader said, and all his people pocketed their copies of Armbruster’s likeness and checked their weapons.

  Matt adjusted the bulletproof vest he’d borrowed from Jaylon and checked his own weapon. Knowing Katie was capable of seeing to Paula’s security back at the safehouse, he’d volunteered to go with Jaylon so there would be two groups familiar with the details of the case searching both sites. He just wished they’d managed to pinpoint his actual killing lair.

  “On three, people,” the leader of the warrant squad said and majority of the group headed to the breach the main entrance to the lab, while a small group went around back to secure the rear from any attempt of their suspect to flee that way. Following the guys used to bringing down suspects on a daily basis, Jaylon and Matt brought up the rear for safety sake.

  * * *

  “Do you think they’ll catch him?” Paula asked.

  She sat snuggled on the leather sofa beneath a soft knitted afghan Kirk F had delivered from his Nana after dropping her off at her Sunday night bible study. He loved his Nana, not just because she was his grandmother and the woman who raised him, but because despite her stern disposition, strict rules and unfiltered opinions, she loved unconditionally. She loved him. She loved her neighbors and friends. She loved those who needed it most. Paula may not know it yet, but she’d been adopted by Nana that first night in the hospital and she was going to be loved for the rest of her days by that wonderful woman.

  “If he’s at his house or the blood bank, they’ll catch him,” Katie said, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the coffee table. “The problem is will he come peacefully?”

  On the overstuffed chair across from them, Kirk F looked up from the laptop page he’d been studying. “You think he’ll be stupid enough to take on a SWAT team? I mean, how stupid could he be?”

  “In my life I’ve known desperate people to do stupid things.” Katie gave a little shrug as she laid a nine-millimeter Glock on the table in front of her.

  “Whoa!” Kirk F said, holding up his hands and pulling his laptop closer as if to protect him if she decided to fire the gun. “Where’d you get that?”

  “Oh, my…God!” Paula wheezed out.

  “Easy.” Katie held up her empty hands. “Both of you just relax. This is my weapon. You do know Matt and I are here for security, right?”

  “I thought you was a nurse and Matt was the hired gun,” Kirk F said.

  “Yeah, me too.” Paula coughed, then slowly relaxed.

  “I am a nurse, but I’m also capable of putting a hole in a man if the need should arise.” Katie opened the bag on the floor beside her and took out two rags and a little bottle. “But my husband just went into possible harm’s way and I’m not going to lie to you. It makes me anxious. When I’m anxious I have to do something that calms me down. My sister-in-law Sami loves to bake when she worries. I clean guns.”

  “I think I like your sister-in-law’s way of worrying a whole lot better,” Kirk F said as he watched her take out the gun clip and remove the bullet in the chamber. Knowing the weapon was unloaded now and definitely in expert hands, he relaxed.

  “Me, too. What does she bake?” Paula asked, picking Stanley up off the floor and snuggling him in with her.

  Katie began disassembling the gun into pieces. “Depends on how much worrying she’s doing. If she were here and knew her brother Matt was out trying to bring in a serial killer, we’d probably rate muffins or brownies.”

  Kirk F listened to them chat about baking and family and even Katie’s little boy as he searched the files he’d downloaded to his laptop earlier. Aaron had asked him
to see if he could locate a building with high electricity use that was supposed to be abandoned. He’d tried searching for old warehouses but came up with nothing. Since he now had the killer’s name, he’d done a cross-search for property and utility accounts under Armbruster. He was just waiting for results.

  His computer flashed him a notification icon.

  Hot damn!

  There were two places under Armbruster’s name. One was the address on his driver’s license he’d seen earlier. He eliminated that.

  Opening a tab for the map of Cleveland, he typed in the other address on Scranton Road.

  Why did that sound familiar?

  Oh yeah, an old stockyard company was located on Scranton Road back in the eighteen-nineties. He’d done a report on it in middle school as part of his history class. Nana said her great grandfather worked in the meat packing business back when he came north from the cottonfields of Mississippi when the Ku Klux Klan was strong at the end of the Reconstruction Period in the South. She said her grandfather worked there, too, but after most of the meat packing business moved to the Stockyard area further southwest of Scranton Road. He remembered the details because his family connection to the area.

  Nana loved talking about the family’s history so much she’d driven him down there while he was doing his research so he could see where his family made their living at the turn of the last century. Pride filled her voice when she spoke about the men making something of themselves in the business, starting at the cattle unloading docks and working their way up to foremen to provide for their families left an impression on him. He wanted her to be that proud of him.

  Switching tabs on the laptop, he pulled up the electric company’s page. He prayed no one asked him how he got this information. Hacking into the electric company’s computers had wasn’t exactly legal.

  Holy Shit! This place was using a crapload of electricity. Had been for nearly three years, according to the usage charts. This had to be the place Armbruster was using to at least store his victims like he had that Mia lady.

  Aaron should have this information.

  Kirk F glanced at the safehouse’s living room clock. Ten. Right now the two teams should be hitting the address and blood bank to arrest Armbruster. And it was almost time to pick up Nana from her bible study. He could just drive by Scranton Road on his way to get Nana, get a quick look at the building at the address listed and then let Aaron know what he found.

  Yeah, he could do that. He wanted to be a cop. Might as well start acting like one.

  “Hey,” he said, grabbing his coat. “I need to pick up Nana. I’ll be back after I get her home, okay?”

  Katie looked up from where she was putting the gun back together after cleaning and oiling it. “Okay. Drive safe.”

  Paula waved from the couch and he headed out the front door.

  34

  Brianna sat in the SUV anxiously watching the scene outside Armbruster’s dark home. Was he at home? In bed, sleeping peacefully? Or out hunting for another innocent victim to prey upon? Or perhaps laying in wait inside to kill anyone entering his lair?

  Oh, dear lord, she sounded like a melodrama from the last century. And her worry was doing nothing but adding to her anxiety. Get a grip, girl. These guys are trained professionals.

  She focused her gaze on Aaron and Carson, neither wearing tactical head gear like the SWAT team and going in behind the more experienced door breachers. She’d lowered the window on the door closest to the house just enough to hear what might be going on.

  There was a loud bang and her heart skipped a beat. She realized the noise was from the big black cylinder ram she’d seen one of the SWAT team carry past her moments before hitting the door, then the group of armed police surged inside.

  Straining to hear out the window, she prayed gunfire wouldn’t erupt inside the house.

  The night was eerily silent.

  The fast beat of her own pulse echoed in her ear.

  Inside the house, waves of bright light from the SWAT team’s flashlights swung back and forth in the house’s main floor then up to the second level and finally down in the basement windows. Finally, lights came on inside the house and the porch light popped on. The SWAT team slowly emerged and she could see Aaron and Carson talking with one of the SWAT team members, probably their leader.

  A few moments later Aaron and Carson disappeared back into the house and the SWAT leader made a bee line straight for the SUV. She lowered the window as he approached.

  “Ma’am, Detective Jeffers has asked that you join him inside,” he said.

  She grabbed her bag and climbed out, hitting the lock button on the extra key fob Aaron had given her. “I take it you didn’t find Armbruster inside the house?”

  “No, ma’am. We’re going to clear out and let the locals assist the detective and FBI agent here,” the man said as he escorted her to the house, his weapon gripped easily at the ready. He stopped at the porch and waved down the street. One of the cruisers drove up and parked on the curb outside Armbruster’s home. “You can go in. I’ll stay here until the patrolman is in position.”

  She thanked him and stepped inside the very normal, very neat—except for the outside door hanging by its upper hinge—suburban home.

  “Aaron?”

  “In here, Bri,” he said, using the nickname for the second time this evening. Abby had given it to her when they were in the orphanage and been the only one to call her that until now. She kind of liked that Aaron used it, too.

  She turned to her right and entered a home office. Built-in wooden bookcases lined three of the walls. A solid maple desk and leather office chair sat in the middle facing the doorway. Aaron sat in the chair, looking at the computer screen.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Looking at his browsing history, hoping he left some evidence or clues about his killing spot, because there’s nothing here.”

  Standing a few feet from the desk, taking in all the things in the room. A framed world map hung on the one wall not covered with bookshelves. Beneath it was an antique mahogany sideboard. On top of which sat the gilded-framed picture of a thirtyish woman with eighties-style highly-teased hair. “Do you think this was his mother?”

  “I’d say that was a very good guess,” Carson said, stepping into the room. “Upstairs bedrooms are a bust. Nothing in the closets or under the bed or in the dressers. Armbruster’s very meticulous. Everything precisely in its place. Nothing out of place. The whole house looks like it came from a showroom.”

  “So he’s a neat freak,” Aaron said leaning back in the chair. “I was hoping we’d find something that would lead us to where he’s holding these people long enough to drain their blood.”

  His phone rang and he pulled it out of pocket to answer. “Yes, sir. No sign of him here. The blood bank was a bust, too?” he said, looking at Brianna and Carson, to let them know Armbruster was still in the wind.

  “Yes, sir, we’re looking very carefully for any clue, but so far it’s looking pretty sparse. Even his computer has been cleaned.” He paused and glanced at his wristwatch. “I figure no more than half an hour, just to be sure we don’t miss anything.”

  Then he hung up and rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Your captain?” Brianna asked, going back to study the credenza. It reminded her of the one her adoptive parents had in their home.

  “He wants us all to meet back at the precinct in thirty minutes. Jaylon and Matt came up empty at the blood bank. Ramos has started inventorying the blood and taking samples.”

  “You know you’ll find matches to the two men,” Carson said over his shoulder as he pulled down books one at a time, then replacing them.

  “Well, at least that will be some useable evidence.” Aaron stood and turned off the computer. “I’ll have the tech people come take this, maybe they can find something with a deeper dive. There’s nothing obvious in it.”

  “This man is meticulous. He pays attention to details, Jeffers,”
Carson said. “I wouldn’t have expected him to leave you a neon sign saying, here’s the spot to go search.”

  “I’d settle for a breadcrumb right now,” Aaron muttered.

  While the two men talked, Brianna slid her hand over the top of the credenza, slipping her fingers under the edge where it hung over the sides. She worked her way backwards from the middle front first to the right, then to the left until her fingers found the little button hidden near the back. Just like the one at her parents’ home.

  “How about a secret drawer?” she asked as she pushed the button inward.

  A hinged side panel popped open.

  “What the hell?” Aaron asked hurrying over, Carson right behind him.

  She grinned at them. “My parents had a hutch like this. Very old. They never knew there was a secret panel built in. I used to hide things in it when I was young. First little bits of money from my allowance, then my diary and finally pot when I took the chance of getting some as a teen.”

  The hidden space at the back of the antique furniture was deep, the entire length of the credenza and about eight inches wide.

  “I doubt he’s got any of that in there,” Carson said, bending over and shining his flashlight inside. “Yep, just as I thought. This is where he’s keeping his treasures.”

  His hands already gloved, he reached in and pulled out a sweatshirt with Steroid Kyle’s high school emblem on the front. Next he pulled out Mia’s violin. He laid it on top of the credenza. Brianna started to reach for it.

  “You can’t,” Aaron said grabbing her hand gently to prevent her from touching the instrument. “I know you want the connection with your friend, but we have to preserve any prints he may have left on it.”

  She nodded, fighting back both the anger welling inside and the tears that threatened.