Tommy St James Mysteries Boxed Set

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Tommy St James Mysteries Boxed Set Page 20

by Kristi Belcamino


  “It’s your best shot.” It was a shot of the coroner’s officials loading a body in a body bag into a van with an opened casket and open grave nearby.

  “It will kill the parents to see that as an eight by ten.”

  “You’re right.”

  “How about the shot of the detective overseeing them carrying the casket from the grave over near the car. It says the same thing but doesn’t shout it. No lumpy body bag.”

  “Okay.”

  Tommy also called Costello.

  “Tomorrow.”

  He sighed. “Okay. I’ll warn everyone.”

  The next morning, the story had gone viral.

  Although no other print media had the story, every TV and radio station in the state of Minnesota was holding up the Twin Cities News or reading it verbatim.

  Parker and Tommy monitored the coverage from the newsroom while working on other assignments. In newspaper, you were only as good as your next story.

  Tommy was busy putting together a photo essay on a new art exhibit when Parker called her. He was across the newsroom standing up at his desk.

  She picked up the phone. “Look,” he said.

  He pointed to the big TV screen that took up one whole newsroom wall.

  And just like that, the story had gone national. All the national morning news shows were reporting the slayings. Soon, calls came in asking for Parker to be on the air the next morning to talk about the slayings.

  But Parker was busy writing about the uprising from parents of college kids. Concerned mothers and fathers from across the country were talking about pulling their children out of the university.

  One mother had actually made her daughter drop out and fly home to Virginia just that morning.

  University officials were furious. At the police. At the newspaper.

  That afternoon, the publisher, Parker, and Tommy met with the school president in the newspaper conference room. There was nothing good about that. He accused them of spreading unfounded rumors and instigating widespread panic. Tommy was usually accused of those exact actions at least two or three times a year. What else was new?

  For one, the publisher had her back.

  By the time they left the meeting, Tommy’s stomach was grumbling. In the chaos of the past twenty-four hours, she’d completely forgotten to eat.

  “I’m starving.” Tommy said, grabbing her bag and walking out. She was nearly to her Jeep when the beefy blond cop in an unmarked Crown Victoria gave her a jaunty salute. She’d forgotten. She was being tailed. She decided to ignore him. No sense encouraging him.

  Eleven

  Tommy had just sat down for lunch at the café on the cobblestoned Main Street below her apartment when the beefy blond detective pulled up a chair, sitting on it backward.

  He gave her a big smile. “I don’t think we’ve officially met. I’m Detective Brad Erks.”

  “I know who you are, detective. Aren’t you supposed to be a little … uh, more covert?”

  “Nah. If the killer makes me for a cop, that’s okay. Then maybe he’ll know not to mess with you. My job is to keep you safe, little darling.”

  Tommy made a face. “I don’t think so, detective,” she said, emphasizing the formality of the title. “Aren’t you also supposed to be doing surveillance so you can spot the killer watching me? Now, if he’s out there, he’s just watching both of us. Not quite the plan.”

  Tommy took a big bite of her cheeseburger and eyed him, waiting for his reaction. He seemed a little flustered. Good.

  He stood up. “No, you’re absolutely right. I’ll usually be in the background, but just wanted to introduce myself, and let you know I got your back. There’s nothing for you to worry about while I’m around.” He gave a high-wattage smile and slipped away.

  “Oh, brother,” Tommy said under her breath, watching him leave. Some cops had oversized egos that sometimes threatened to get in the way of doing their job.

  He was cute, though, she admitted. But Kelly was a whole heck of a lot cuter. She smiled just thinking about Lt. Costello’s orders that Kelly stay the night at her house until the killer was caught. Neither spoke up to let the lieutenant know that is pretty much the way the sleeping arrangements worked anyway.

  The only thing stopping Kelly from getting rid of his Apple Valley home was that he didn’t want to boot his roommate out, an old college friend who had divorced last year and was trying to put his life back together again.

  Meanwhile, Kelly had moved most of his clothes and essentials to Tommy’s place. It suited her just fine.

  Tommy finished her burger and headed for her Jeep parked out front. Up next was shooting a Minnesota Twins game. Besides covering crime, covering baseball games was her favorite assignment. She was a fervent fan and had to restrain herself from cheering as she snapped photos. Beefy blond cop would like that part of his assignment, she was sure. She giggled imagining him scrambling to buy a ticket as she flashed her press pass and slipped in the VIP entrance. Then again, she thought, he could probably just flash his badge and be right behind her. Damn. She shouldn’t be so hard on him, he was just doing his job. But his overt flirting, patronizing attitude, and arrogance about his absurd good looks irritated her. He probably had everything easy in life. For Tommy, who had never known the easy way ever, this was hard to relate to.

  More than anything, she wished she could sit home with a beer and Kelly by her side and watch the game. But Kelly was working late, serving a search warrant on a big-time drug dealer.

  Later, at the game, Tommy rushed to the bathroom during the seventh-inning stretch. She’d been holding in those two Diet Cokes for way too long. When she emerged from the bathroom, she noticed beefy blond cop off to the side smiling and talking on his phone. She could barely hear him and what she heard made her heart melt.

  “All right slugger, this time I’m working, but next time it’s you and me, buddy. We’ll get some really great seats and some popcorn and hot dogs, what do you say?”

  Just then, he looked up and Tommy was taken aback by the joy on his face. She immediately felt guilty for thinking badly of him.

  After he hung up, he looked around, and came over.

  “My kid,” he said sheepishly. “His mom and I split a few years ago, so I don’t get to see him as much as I want. I told him to look for me on the big screen at the game. He’s pretty darn excited about it.”

  This time Tommy gave him a real smile. “How about we arrange for him to come see the game with a press pass? We could bring him down on the field and have him meet some of the players?”

  “Wow, that would be fantastic. You’d really do that?”

  “Of course!” Tommy said, smiling, but then immediately regretted it when she heard what he had to say next.

  “So, are you asking me on a date?” He looked at her out of the corner of her eye.

  “Hardly,” Tommy said. “Detective Kelly will be along, as well.”

  “Aw, darn,” he said, as Tommy walked away without a backward glance.

  Twelve

  That night, Tommy’s phone buzzed, waking her and Kelly. He mumbled and reached for his phone on the bedside, blindly fumbling around only to find nobody on the other end.

  Meanwhile, Tommy froze hearing the high-pitched voice on the other end.

  “Where’s your blond boyfriend now?”

  Click.

  “Oh, my God.”

  Kelly sat straight up.

  “It was him.” Her hand was shaking. “And I think he did something to that cop assigned to follow me.”

  “Erks?”

  Tommy told Kelly what the voice had said. Kelly called dispatch.

  “They said he ended his shift two hours ago. That’s all they could tell me.”

  “We’ve got to warn him,” Tommy said, tugging on some jeans she found on the floor. “We’ll go to his house. Whatever. We have to tell him.”

  “Hold up,” Kelly said, punching a number on the phone.

  After a fe
w calls, he managed to track down Erk’s home number, but the phone rang and eventually went to voice mail. Kelly left a message for the cop to call him immediately and hung up.

  “I just got a feeling this is bad, really bad,” Tommy said, sitting on the couch with her knees hunched up and her chin resting on them. Her entire body was shaking.

  Kelly noticed her trembling and put his arm around her, hugging her close.

  “Let’s not worry yet. Erks is probably just in a beer-induced heavy sleep. Or at a girl’s house. Or at the bar.”

  “God, I hope so,” she said.

  The next morning, Tommy stopped in the café downstairs and ordered a triple shot of espresso before she got in her Jeep. She probably hadn’t slept more than an hour at a stretch since she received that call.

  Kelly said he would report the call to Lt. Costello as soon as he got to the police department. He’d left her apartment before six so he probably already had done so. He said he would call if Costello needed her to come in.

  In the newsroom, Tommy tried to distract herself with her assignments. She was shooting a grand opening of a local co-op. Finally, she couldn’t wait any longer and called Kelly.

  “Have you heard from Erks?”

  Kelly waited a minute before answering. “No, but he’s not working today. We sent someone over to his place, though.”

  Tommy was surprised at this. They must be worried, as well.

  As if sensing her thoughts, Kelly said, “It was just precautionary. Landlord opened up and everything appeared just fine. He has two days off, maybe he went up to the North Shore or something for a mini vacation.”

  “Did you call his ex?”

  Kelly didn’t seem surprised Tommy knew personal information about Erks. “Yeah, she said he doesn’t have the kid until next weekend. They don’t usually talk, just do the kid exchange.”

  Tommy changed the subject. Custody was a sore point with Kelly. His crazy ex-wife had moved with their kids to Hawaii. Now, the only way Kelly could see his kids was during his annual vacation, which he spent in a rented condo on the Big Island. A few months ago, he’d mentioned that maybe Tommy should come with him and meet the kids. She knew that was a huge step for him so she didn’t press it and was waiting for him to say more. Now was not the time.

  Thirteen

  Erks was dead.

  His body was found slain in the alley outside Tommy’s apartment. Only a few feet away from her front door.

  The sound of police sirens woke Tommy and Kelly around 3 a.m.

  Some residents returning home after last call had spotted the body, or at least a foot, sticking out of the dark shadows.

  When the sirens stopped on the street below, Kelly had quickly dressed, telling Tommy to wait there. But of course, she pulled on a pair of sweatpants, grabbed her camera, and followed. Kelly laughed to himself in the elevator, shaking his head and looking down.

  “Yep. I was crazy to think you’d wait behind.”

  She smiled back. But her smile was a little more fragile. She couldn’t stop thinking about Erks. Nobody had been able to reach him at all the previous day.

  As she stepped onto the cobblestone street outside her building, she knew.

  It was Erks.

  One look at the black military boot sticking out of the shadows confirmed it even before Kelly pulled back the sheet and looked over at her with a mixture of anger and sadness in his eyes.

  Tommy gasped and shoved her fist to her mouth, trying not to scream. No. No. No.

  When she looked up, it didn’t seem as if anybody had noticed. They were riveted by the body only a few feet away. Tommy hastily wiped her face on her sleeve and stood rigid. Unsure what to do or where to go. She was shaking uncontrollably even though the night air was still in the sixties.

  She wanted to hug Kelly and cry, but he was already working, taking over the crime scene, even though this time the murder victim was his colleague.

  Tommy watched him giving orders to the other officers, sealing off and protecting the crime scene until the homicide investigators arrived.

  Soon, the area was cordoned off with yellow crime scene tape. The body lay alone, waiting for someone from homicide to take over the scene. Kelly stood just inside the crime scene tape conferring with someone on his cell phone and then using the officer’s police radio.

  The ambulance drivers stood against their van, nearby. Waiting. No hurry now. The few bystanders who had stopped to see what was happening slowly wandered off, except one old guy who sat smoking and looking around as if he expected the killer to come back any minute.

  Tommy’s camera hung unused on its strap looped around her shoulder. She was shivering. She didn’t know what to do, either. But she knew she couldn’t just go back upstairs to her apartment.

  Finally, two homicide detectives Tommy recognized arrive. They ducked under the crime scene tape. After Kelly briefed them, they headed toward the body. One crouched down and peeked under the sheet. The other nodded, his face unreadable. They both looked around until their eyes met Tommy’s. One of the detectives narrowed his eyes at her, while the other gave her a grim, tight-mouthed nod.

  Good God, did they think it was her fault that Erks ended up dead? Ridiculous.

  But the thought sent a choked sob rising into Tommy’s throat. Unable to bear the accusations in their eyes, she stumbled inside the apartment building’s lobby, collapsing onto a couch near the front desk.

  “No, no, no!”

  She was startled when she felt an arm around her. It was Kelly. She hadn’t seen or heard him come in.

  “Don’t pay attention to those clowns,” he said. “Erks knew what he was doing. He loved it. He knew the risks. He was one of our best. If this guy got to him, then he would have gotten to anybody we had out here on this case. It has nothing to do with you.”

  Tommy closed her eyes and nodded. Then opened them. “How did he die?” she asked.

  Kelly shook his head. “Don’t know. No sign of trauma. It’s a little odd.”

  “Heart attack?”

  “No, the one thing I know is this wasn’t natural.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Erks had some skin under his nails. He was scratching or clawing at someone as he went down.”

  Fourteen

  Erks was poisoned. A hypodermic needle was thrust into his neck, instantly disabling him. As he collapsed onto the ground, his killer tried to ease him down, not expecting Erks to claw at him, drawing blood. Then, a second needle, this one to the eye, killed him.

  Tommy cringed at the information. Kelly had called her to fill her in. He said blood and skin extracted from under the police officer’s fingernails was being rushed to national DNA databases to try to find a match.

  “This guy may have made his last mistake,” Kelly said.

  Tommy thought about it for a second and then asked, “What about his windpipe?”

  “Nothing. But it’s got to be the same guy. This is the first time he’s killed in a public place instead of in a wooded area off the river. I’m sure he didn’t have time to leave his signature mark.”

  Kelly was very quiet for a moment.

  “But he did leave a signature.” It was said so quietly, Tommy almost imagined she had heard it.

  “What?”

  “You’re going to need to take the fifth on this one. Not a word, right?”

  “Fine,” Tommy said quickly.

  “No, really. You can’t be a reporter right now. Take that hat off and put on your detective’s girlfriend/target of a serial killer hat. Now.”

  “Done.” Tommy didn’t hesitate. This was no longer about a story.

  “He left some weird ass stamp on the back of Erk’s neck.”

  “A stamp? What do you mean?” Tommy was confused.

  “Like you use with a stamp and ink pad, right? That kind of a stamp,” Kelly said. “It was a skull-and-crossbones. Like what would be on a pirate’s flag.”

  Jack Sparrow.

&n
bsp; Fifteen

  His name was not Jack Sparrow. Not in real life. But as he sat and played the Pirates of the Caribbean movie on repeat in his dark basement apartment, he began to feel like he was the swarthy swashbuckler who made every woman from sixteen to sixty swoon.

  He took a black eyeliner pencil and expertly lined his eyes without having to look into a mirror. He grabbed his ratty, tangled wig and plopped it on. And then carefully pasted the thin costume moustache and goatee.

  He donned the pirate costume and got into his bed. He carefully extracted a small box that contained his treasures: Small labeled vials of blood from each one of his victims. He used the needle not only to inject his victims with undetectable poison, but he used the needle to extract the victim’s blood. Each vial was carefully preserved in the velvet-lined box for his ritual.

  With one hand down his pants, he opened up each vial, one at a time and took a small sip of blood, careful not to take too much. He needed the blood to last. It was the most precious thing he owned.

  In his excitement, he caught a glance of himself in the long mirror opposite his bed and the sight of his blood-stained lips brought him to his final climax.

  Sixteen

  “Put on your dancing shoes.”

  “What are you talking about?” Parker said. “I’m in my pajamas. I’m watching the Twins. They are down two. Bottom of the ninth.”

  “You’re preaching to the choir,” she said. “Want to catch a killer or not? Put on something that a frat boy would wear. We’re going to a frat party.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding?”

  She was not.

  Within the hour, they had pulled up in front of a large house with Greek letters hanging over the wrap-around front porch. Several guys lounged in ripped chairs clutching beer cans. A beat-up leather couch was the guest of honor in the middle of the front lawn and several girls and guys were sprawled on it.

 

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