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Pump Fake

Page 21

by Michael Beck


  Ashley Hunter's body. The autopsy photos made me want to cry. She looked so small and defenseless. No one that young should be lying in a morgue. Apart from some scratches on one palm, there wasn't a mark on her. She could have been asleep. But of course, she wasn't.

  I came to the crime scene photos. Ashley was sitting in front of a large log hugging a small sapling, her fists tightly clenched. Her head and body were covered by a layer of snow, giving her the appearance of some miraculous ice sculpture. But there was nothing uplifting about the dead girl underneath. Ashley's face was pressed to the side of the sapling, looking unseeingly at the camera. I peered closer, not believing what I was seeing.

  She was barefoot. Not even a pair of socks.

  My cell rang.

  "Tan?" Fulton.

  "Yeah."

  "Where are you?"

  "In Colorado."

  "Are you finished there?"

  "Yeah. Why?"

  "You better get back here."

  "What's happened?"

  "They completed the tests on the unidentified heart we found in Symonds."

  "Yeah, Bear told me about the piece of metal with the writing on it."

  "It's worse than that."

  "How could it be worse than that? Was the heart too decomposed to get a viable DNA sample?"

  "Oh, no, we were able to test it okay. It's just that no one likes what the results are telling us."

  "And what's that?"

  "The heart belongs to a female."

  "A woman?"

  "Not a woman. A girl. The heart belongs to a thirteen-year-old girl."

  CHAPTER 41

  "What was the girl's name again?" I said.

  "Leah Spence," said Fulton. As soon as I arrived back in New York, Fulton had come over to the Special Forces Fitness Center. Bear and I were still trying to get our heads around this latest bombshell. Just when it seemed like the case couldn't get any crazier, Cupid took it to another level. "She was thirteen and disappeared five days before Symonds was murdered. DNA tests confirm that it is her heart that was found in Symonds."

  We were all silent.

  "So Cupid killed Leah, placed a metal disc with L645 engraved on it inside her heart and then put the heart into Symonds' body?" said Bear, finally. "Why? Why did he go to so much trouble?"

  "It's no trouble to him," I said. "It's what he is. He hasn't a choice."

  "That's not the worst though," said Fulton.

  Bear growled, "There could be worse?"

  "It might be what he does every time."

  We were all silent another long moment, contemplating the implications of this.

  "He was disturbed in the Abrahams and Tanner murders. Perhaps that's what he was going to do to them as well," Fulton said slowly.

  "That's why all these years we could never find any similar cases," I said, as realization flooded over me.

  "Yes. Your parents and Abrahams might have been the exception. So, all these years, we've been mistakenly looking for a killer who steals the hearts from his victims."

  "He doesn't steal them. He replaces them," said Bear.

  "If he has been committing other killings, that explains how he has got away with it," said Fulton. "He replaces the heart and then destroys the crime scene, making it look like an accident."

  "Wouldn't the Medical Examiner pick up the fact that the heart had been swapped?"

  "Depends. If the cause of death is obvious they might not perform a full autopsy. And even if an autopsy was performed, the medical examiner would have no reason to DNA test the heart. You have to remember that Cupid tries to destroy the body almost completely, by either incinerating or blowing it up. There might not have been enough of the remains to complete a thorough autopsy. Who knows, we may not ever know who he has killed, if he has been hiding or disposing of other victims in places we haven't found."

  "We need to find out if any teenage girls from the New York area went missing right before any of the killings," I reasoned out slowly. "We might even have more chance of tracing him this way."

  "Do the police have any ideas what the L645 on the metal disc means?" Bear asked Fulton.

  "Not yet. One idea is that it might be a code or a cypher."

  "A hidden message?"

  "Yes."

  "I don't think it's a message for anyone else," I said. "Cupid tried to destroy the body so the metal disc was never meant to be found. Whatever it is, it was only meant for Cupid. So if it is a code, it's something simple."

  "Like what?"

  "I don't know. But it must be something that goes to the core of why he is doing this."

  "No mystery about that," said Bear. "He's doing it because he's as crazy as a rabid dog."

  * * * *

  Liz's blue Beemer was parked outside of Decker's house. I sat in my Beetle, not sure if I wanted to talk to Decker with Liz present. He might not speak openly around her. On the other hand, Liz needed to see what she was getting into. She needed to know Decker's history before she got in too far. In the end, I don't know if these altruistic motives persuaded me or if it was a far more selfish motive on my part. I hated anyone else being with Liz.

  Liz answered my knock. "Tan, you're back."

  "Got in yesterday."

  "Where have you been?"

  "Bear didn't tell you?"

  "No."

  "I had to go to Colorado."

  "Why?"

  "I was looking into Decker's high school years, to see if they had something to do with what's happening to him now."

  "Troy went to high school in Colorado? I didn't know that."

  "Yeah, well there's probably a lot you don't know about Troy."

  "What do you mean?"

  I shook my head. "I need to talk to Decker, is he here?"

  Decker appeared behind Liz. "Mark, you're early. Training isn't until four."

  "We need to talk."

  He looked from Liz to me. He seemed to gather himself before he spoke. "Okay then. Come into the living room."

  "You might prefer it if we talk on our own."

  "I've got nothing to hide from Liz."

  "Even if I want to talk about Leadville?"

  His eyes locked with mine. "Like I said, I've got nothing to hide." He took Liz's hand.

  Liz glanced at me uncertainly and followed Troy. "What's this about Leadville?" she said, when she'd sat on the couch next to him.

  "It's where Troy grew up."

  "Where's Leadville?"

  "It's in the Colorado Rockies."

  "I thought you grew up in New York?" Liz said to Troy.

  Troy didn't answer.

  "Troy?" She let go of his hand.

  "I've got some photos if that will help jog your memory." I threw the photo I had taken from the Franklin house onto the table.

  Decker flinched and paled visibly as Liz picked it up.

  Liz looked from the photo to Troy. "Is that you, Troy? Your face looks different. And you had blond hair?"

  Decker just nodded.

  "Who are these people?" said Liz. "Who is the girl?"

  "Yeah, Troy. Who is that girl? Care to tell us about her?"

  Liz looked from me to Troy. "What is it?" she said, sensing something between us.

  "If you don't tell her about that Thanksgiving weekend, I will," I said quietly.

  Troy sighed and leaned his head back on the couch. He stared at the ceiling as he spoke.

  "It was nine years ago. I was sixteen. Me and three other kids, Matt Maxwell, Ryan Franklin and Ashley Hunter, stayed at a cabin up in the mountains for Thanksgiving. We had done it before, so we thought it was quite safe. Only we hadn't counted on the storm. The forecast had said that the storm was going to miss us and go further south."

  He regarded me. "It didn't. I'd never seen anything like it and I was raised in the Rockies. The temperature dropped thirty degrees in three hours. By nine o'clock it was twenty below. There were wind gusts up to eighty miles per hour and we had two feet of snow in the first
hour. It was a complete whiteout; you couldn't see your hand held in front of your face.

  "The cabin was well made and we had plenty of firewood so we were pretty safe. Well...we should have been.

  "But we were kids. We didn't know better. It was Thanksgiving so we took a lot of alcohol and...other things up there and, well...we partied. I was pretty wasted and I fell asleep in my room. Next thing I know Matt and Ryan are waking me up shouting that Ashley was gone. The front door was wide open and the blizzard was raging. I couldn't believe that anyone would go out into that. We searched the house but she wasn't anywhere. She was gone."

  "You went outside to look for her?"

  "I had to. It was Ashley. I'd known her my whole life. We were friends. I found an old rock climbing rope, tied it around my waist and went out into the blizzard. But it was hopeless. I could have walked right over her and not seen her. And the noise was unbelievable; the wind was like an express train. I couldn't even hear my own screams. What hope did Ashley have of hearing me?"

  He was silent for a moment.

  "They found her the next day only forty yards from the cabin. I must have walked right past her."

  "That's how you got those frostbite marks on your hands and face?"

  "Yeah. Though it wasn't really frostbite, it's what they call frostnip. But it took me a while to get over. My feet got hurt too and I couldn't run properly for quite a while."

  "So you took up baseball?"

  Decker's eyes narrowed in surprise.

  "You've been busy, haven't you?"

  "It's what I do. Do you know why Ashley Hunter went out into the storm?"

  Decker's jaw clenched.

  "I know all the rumors that went around town. They were all bullshit. All I know is that she was drunk and high. When Matt and Ryan awoke, she was gone."

  "Matt and Ryan never said anything?"

  "Just what I've told you."

  I didn't know if he was lying or telling the truth. Normally, I have a great bullshit meter, but Decker was either a hell of an actor or telling the truth.

  "Why didn't you ever tell me about this?" said Liz.

  "I was ashamed. A girl died because we were all drunk and high. It wasn't something I was proud of."

  "Is that why you tried to conceal your identity?" I said.

  "Partly. I'm not proud of that either." He took a deep breath. "Mom and Dad thought it would wreck any chance I had of making it professionally. It wasn't just that a girl died. It was the sick rumors that floated around. They thought if teams heard them, no one would ever look at me, especially colleges. Top colleges are looking for clean cut, upstanding citizens with high moral fiber. Try to sell them a quarterback that drinks, gets high and was involved in the death of a girl. Not one would have come knocking on my door. So we shifted and changed our name."

  "Twice?"

  "Dad was just trying to cover our tracks. He got me to grow this beard and dye my hair. I also had a little bit of work done on my face. My nose had been broken years ago and I had it straightened.

  "Football meant a lot to him. My family was struggling and the money made a big difference to all of our lives." He looked down at his hands. "Was that wrong? I don't know. We weren't hurting or cheating anyone. Dad said it was to stop me getting cheated. That I'd worked too hard to let it all slip away. That I deserved a chance. But I'm not so sure. We were all guilty. If we hadn't been drinking or getting high, Ashley wouldn't have died."

  "You were sixteen," said Liz, putting her arm around his shoulders. "Kids do stuff like that all the time. Their lives shouldn't be wrecked because of one dumb mistake."

  She was right. They shouldn't be. But they were. Four kid's lives were wrecked. Ashley Hunter and Ryan Franklin were dead. Matt Maxwell might be going to prison and Decker's career was in the toilet.

  "Did you know Ryan Franklin died fifteen months ago?"

  "Is that right? No, I didn't."

  Liz considered Decker oddly.

  "That's odd, isn't it? Weren't you really close?" I said.

  "Not really. We hung out sometimes when we were kids but that was just because Leadville was such a small town. We weren't really close friends."

  Why was he lying? I had been in Franklin's bedroom and seen all of his photos.

  "What about the Fantastic Five?" I asked.

  "Who?" said Liz.

  "That's what they called the five of them; Troy and his four friends from Leadville. Franklin, Maxwell, King, Hunter and himself."

  "Yeah, we knocked around together. What else were we going to do? We lived in a town with a population of twenty-six hundred. But I wouldn't call us best friends or anything. That Fantastic Five thing was just a joke."

  Why was he denying this? Why did he not want me to know how close they were?

  "When did this Franklin die?" asked Liz.

  "July 6, last year."

  "Oh," she said and sat back with a faraway look in her eye.

  "Matt Maxwell is up on sex charges. Did you know that?"

  "No. Like I said, we only hung out when we were young because there was no one else. We weren't really close."

  "They haven't been too lucky, have they? Your...acquaintances?"

  Decker shrugged. "Those things happen. There isn't any rhyme or reason to it."

  "Sure not good odds though, is it? Three boys went on that Thanksgiving weekend trip and all of their lives have taken a downward spiral. Look what's been happening to you this last year? You haven't exactly been on a lucky steak, have you?"

  "What are you saying, Tan?" said Liz. "That what's been happening to Troy has something to do with that weekend?"

  "What do you think?" I said to Troy.

  "No. It's just coincidence, that's all."

  "That's some pretty extreme bad luck that's been going around then?" I said mildly.

  "You think that someone might be trying to get back at Troy for the girl's death? What was her name? Ashley Hunter?"

  "It's a possibility. Remember, the person who planted the gun and drugs in Troy's car was wearing a Broncos cap."

  "That means nothing," said Troy, waving his hand as if to eliminate any possibility other than coincidence. "No one is trying to get back at me. I told you it was an accident. The police investigated it and we were all cleared. And who would want to get back at me anyway? Ashley was an only child, after her brother died. And her dad is a paraplegic. She had no other family."

  I studied him for a moment. "Someone tried to kill me while I was in Colorado. I believe it was the same Broncos-cap guy who is trying to destroy your life."

  "You don't know that. From the little Liz has told me, there's probably more than one person with reason to kill you. Did you see this person or have any other evidence to support your claim?"

  "No."

  "There you go." Decker's cell rang and he checked the caller ID. "I've gotta take this," he said and left the room.

  Liz sat silently for a time. She wore a silk, blue dress which accentuated her long, slim legs and the sweet, gentle curves of her breasts. Not that I was looking. She sighed and came and sat next to me.

  "How did they try to kill you?"

  "They shoved my car into a frozen lake."

  "And your car sank?"

  "Uh huh."

  "With you in it, under the ice?"

  "Yep."

  "How did you survive?"

  "I channeled my inner mermaid. Or is it merman? I'm not sure."

  Liz bit her lip and took my hand. "I'm sorry, Tan. It's my fault. I should never have asked you to help. I'll hire some bodyguards tomorrow."

  "No."

  "But you didn't want to do this in the first place?"

  "I'd like to have a chat with the guy who sent me swimming and until I find him...well, Decker won't be safe."

  She gazed at me intently.

  "You were going to say me, weren't you? It's not Troy you're really worried about, it's me, isn't it?"

  "Liz, no one around Troy is safe. Who know
s what this Broncos-cap might do to get to Decker?"

  "Why is he doing it?"

  "Liz, I don't know what, but something happened that weekend that is still going on today."

  "I don't understand. Ashley died of hyperthermia. How is that anyone's fault?"

  "They found her wearing only a skirt and sweater, Liz. No shoes. You heard Troy. It was a goddam blizzard outside and Ashley wanders outside in the middle of the night?"

  "She was drunk and high."

  "I still don't buy it. Everyone who was there that Thanksgiving has had their lives destroyed."

  "Troy's life isn't destroyed yet, Tan. Not if you can help him."

  I could feel the warmth of her thigh against mine. I tried not to get mesmerized by the way her soft lips glistened in the lamp-light. Nothing distracted me when I was on the job. Yeah.

  "I'll try, but you shouldn't get too close to him, Liz."

  Her big brown eyes stared into mine. "Who's talking now, Tan? You? Or the 'Investigator-You'?"

  Good question. I knew when I came in. Now I wasn't quite so sure.

  Tanner, the rock.

  "Liz, there's a lot we don't know. I don't want you to get hurt."

  "I believe him, Tan. I don't think he had anything to do with that girl's death."

  I wasn't so sure. Something about that Thanksgiving stank and Decker, I was afraid, was smack dead in the middle of it.

  Before I could reply, Decker returned. Liz quickly let go of my hand but not before Decker saw.

  His lips pursed and his face tightened. "Is that it?" he said gruffly to me.

  "For now." I stood up.

  Decker walked me out. I was halfway down the footpath when I stopped.

  Decker was still standing in the doorway, watching me.

  "The panties. What about the panties?" I said.

  He shook his head. "I don't know. The police asked and I didn't know then either."

  "You slept with her?"

  Decker's eyes flicked over his shoulder and back. "Yes. I loved her."

  "It was her first time. Did you know?"

  He nodded.

  I turned and walked away.

  "Hey!"

  He regarded me for such a long moment I didn't think he was going to speak. And then he spoke so quietly I wasn't sure if I heard him correctly.

  "It was my first time too," he said.

 

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