Cleansed by Death

by Catherine Finger

  Donna rolled her eyes. “He’s incorrigible.”

  A trickle of laughter snuck out of the side of my mouth. The hint of a smile broke through and within a few seconds I was laughing full bore. Jim put his hand in the air, and we bumped fists victoriously, his dark-brown eyes full of mirth. I slapped my hand into his and when we stood up, he pulled me to him, crushing me into a bear hug.

  “First step is the hardest, Jo. The rest will come faster than you think. You can do better. You’re gorgeous, you’re brilliant, and you’re the chief of police. It doesn’t get any hotter than that.”

  He kissed me on the forehead and pulled away. In one swift motion, he linked arms with Donna and me, carting us out the door with him into the chilly evening.

  Donna rode with me so we could continue talking about Del as we drove through the dark, winding streets on our way home. How much of her lively banter had been tailor-made for me, my gift from an unseen God wrapping me securely in a blanket of comfort and warmth? I needed warmth and security now more than ever. Having two such wonderful neighbors was a sweet gift.

  I entered the back of our subdivision, passing the large, Christmas-bedecked homes of friends and neighbors. I turned onto our block and both of our houses came into view.

  “Unreal!” Donna muttered.

  I eased my foot off the gas, dialing down the rest of the evening into slow motion. There was my house, lit up like a Christmas tree. Bright light spilled out into the street, reflecting off the snow and back onto the house. Every light was on, everything so very wrong. Stripped walls showed through undressed windows. Security spotlights focused on empty areas through the windows of my once beautiful home.

  What had happened? The front door stood wide open. Both garage doors were up. Litter blew haphazardly across the yard. Footprints, car tracks, and truck tracks crisscrossed the driveway, spilling onto the lawn. The depth of the tracks and the width of the tires indicated a large, heavy vehicle had been parked in the yard at some point over the last few hours. Deep ruts branded the snow-covered lawn on the side of the porch. Something hefty had been dragged across my front yard.

  The gurgle of water running somewhere grew louder as I parked my pickup truck in the driveway. Jim parked their car in their driveway a few feet away.

  We stepped out of the warm truck and stared at the desolate scene. I started toward the house, flanked by Donna and Jim. Together, we trudged up the front steps of my home like complete strangers. The ornate iron mat was missing from the top of the porch steps. I had nailed it into place with my brand new nail gun two weeks after settling into our new home, nine years ago. It must have taken some work to pull it up.

  We followed muddy footprints to the front door and paused, glancing at each other nervously. Two small pine trees were missing from the concrete urns by the door. One of the urns was missing too. My house lay barren.

  The large, front windows offered a detailed view of the chaos. My holiday decorations had been completely destroyed, festive strands of tiny white lights ripped down, cords dangling. I could not force myself to move.

  Jim swore, and Donna spoke into my ear, but I couldn’t understand a thing they were saying. Donna steadied herself with a hand against the cedar siding, and we huddled in the doorway like uninvited guests.

  The entryway and stairwell walls were bare except for black kick marks and, worse, they’d been punched in spots, drywall pushed in all the way to form dark holes. I moved inside to the powder room off the foyer and would have fainted if not for the warmth of Donna’s welcome presence at my side.

  I stumbled into my kitchen and had to hold on to the wall to keep from dropping to my knees. This was not my kitchen. Muddy scars marred the once-gleaming hardwood floors. Every cupboard had been torn open and ransacked. Some of the cabinet doors had been ripped off the hinges. One of them was completely missing. Another lay broken on the rug by the back porch door. A mad, hungry giant had violated and defiled my home, had ripped everything away from its careful place in my world.

  I stood in the remains of my kitchen, dizzy, unable to think. The mottled surface of my island countertop was scratched and smeared in smudgy prints. A cream-colored piece of paper rested at the edge of the counter, a page torn from one of my journals. Leaning against the counter, I read the note left behind by my husband.

  Jo: I will be filing for divorce as soon as possible. I have another woman and a very good attorney. Ours is a business arrangement that has come to an end. Really, our relationship ended four years ago when you and the thin blue line betrayed me. It’s time to divide the assets. You need to get an attorney. Know this: I want the lake-front property and everything I took with me today. And the boat, my share of hard cash, and all the vehicles. If you don’t fight me on this, I will leave you alone. If you do fight me, I’ll go for everything you have, every penny, both properties, plus your pension, what’s left of your inheritance, and your retirement savings. Don’t fight me. You can’t win.

  —Del

  I reached for my work phone to make the call that would change my life forever.

  I punched in the number and squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t breathe until the ringing stopped, and then I growled as Nick’s voicemail droned on. I opened my eyes and spoke into the phone. “Nick, I need you. Now.”

  My second, and last, call of the evening went to my Deputy Chief, Lauren Mitchell—Mitch. She was a natural leader, and I had known I was going to elevate her to my second in command before my first official day on the job. I’m good that way. I can read people. Most people that is, except for the ones I marry.

  Cop to the core, she answered on the first ring despite the fact that it was 8:00 p.m. and she should’ve been relaxing with her family.

  “Chief?” Her groggy voice held promise—a lifesaver tossed straight to me in the midst of the rocky waves of my new reality. I could picture her dark red hair mussed from napping on the couch in front of a TV movie. Her husband of three years softly snored in the background. They were just starting out, and everything I saw between them was everything I wanted.

  The picture brought me to tears. “Mitch, I have a personal emergency to tend to. Del left me… for good, I think.”

  Breathless, every word constricted, I read the note to her, and then I choked out a mini version of the hell I had entered.

  “Chief! Do you need me to come over? What can I—”

  “Would you please shut up? That’s all I’ve got right now. Look, I gotta go.”

  “Oh, my gosh! I’m so, so sorry.” Her voice was low, and she spoke in measured tones after listening to my ice-cold explanation of events over the phone. “What do you need most from me right now?”

  My stomach tightened. I drew a sharp breath and wiggled my mouth to loosen up the muscles of my jaw enough to respond to her. Donna and Jim stood with their backs to me in front of the fireplace, whispering in low tones as they surveyed the damage in what used to be my great room. I turned away from them.

  “I need you to be me. I need you to go into my office in the morning, business as usual. I need you to run the show for me, buy me some time. Just sit in my chair and stay there for the next twenty-four hours, okay?”

  “No. Nothing’s okay. There is nothing at all okay about any of this. I’m on my way.”

  “Mitch! Just sit tight for right now. Can you do that for me?”

  “I got your back, Chief. Any time, any place. You just hang in there, and call me when you need me. Anything else?”

  “Nope—just thanks, Mitch. Later.” I ended the call, my hands still shaking.

  Thirty minutes later, Nick stood by my side, and we walked through the remains of my home together. I laughed at the five-hundred-dollar pair of Italian loafers he’d pulled on bare feet under his favorite pair of jeans and a white button-down shirt. His clean silhouette was in stark contrast to the chaos all around us as I slogged through every room on my second tour that evening. I stopped short on the upstairs landing and waved Nick forward. I
let him take in the emptied bedroom scenes alone. I didn’t need to see those again right then. He swore as he padded softly down the stained, carpeted stairs.

  “That pig is going to pay for it this time, Josie.” He pulled his phone out of his shirt pocket, opened the notebook app, and sat down on the stairs beside me. “Del cannot get away with this! And who lives in a neighborhood that lets this kind of stuff go on without callin’ the cops! Where is everyone?”

  “Think about it, Nick. It’s almost Christmas. We’re about the only two families in the subdivision not hiding out on some tropical island. Place is as good as deserted this time of year.”

  “And, of course, Del would know that. You’re gonna be so much better off without him. You know that, don’t you?”

  Tears flowed down my cheeks, and my throat swelled so tight that all I could muster was a hoarse whisper. “I don’t know. I just don’t know anything anymore.” Steel knots roiled in my belly, and I started seeing stars. “Look, I’m not okay right now. I need some time to pull myself together—to figure all this out. I need you to go home and be your amazing, professional self so I can fall apart. I need some time to see exactly what I’m up against. Might take a little ride out to the lake-front property. We’ll see what I need to do next.”

  My voice cracked. I was skating on the bitter edge.

  “You know I’m here for you, right? But, listen. I have to know you aren’t going to be alone. Can I stop by later? Can I send Mitch over? Maybe make this one official?”

  “No, honey. That ain’t how this is gonna work. I can’t deal with that right now. I just need you to step in come daylight. Keep the serial killer investigation hot, do your best without me for a few days, and don’t call me unless you really need me. You’re the only one I want to hear from, so make sure any case updates go through you. I am not in the mood for anything or anyone else today.”

  “Sure. I’ll step away and have your back. But you’re not going through this alone. I don’t care how tough you are.”

  “Fair enough. I’ll stay with Donna and Jim, so relax. And I mean it. Other than you and them, I really don’t want to see anyone. I sure can’t talk about this officially yet. I’ve got to think things through. That day has come though, trust me. I will make this one official, and we will drag his sorry butt in.”

  “All right, I’ll take off then. And I’ll make sure Mitch checks in with you after the 6:00 a.m. roll call. And, Josie? I’m here for you. Whatever you need.” He stepped into my space until only a whisper stood between us. The air came alive with the heat that rolled off his body onto mine. He lowered his voice to husky. “Josie, I’m here for you. Always have been, always will be.”

  A crooked grin crept across my face. Who was this man? How’d I get so lucky? “Thanks. I’ll keep you posted.”

  He wrapped his arms around me, kissed the top of my head, and held me for several seconds before pulling away. I looked up at him with moist eyes and watched him trail slowly down the stairs. Once he vanished through the broken front door, I used my shirtsleeve to wipe the tears from my face.

  But my tears had only just begun.

  “Hi, sweetie, ready for some coffee?” Donna’s voice woke me as she breezed into her guest bedroom with two steaming mugs, dressed to the nines for work. It was already 7:00 a.m. Monday morning. Jim would be long gone by now. I hadn’t heard a thing since crashing at their place a few hours ago.

  Monday. Wow. Harsh reality, and I just wasn’t ready for it. Donna pushed the covers aside and sat lightly on the bed. I eased up and we drank in silence. She took my hand and squeezed.

  “Donna, what happened? He’s gone, and he’s trying to crush me on the way out. What did I do to deserve this? How could he? How long has he been planning this?” Sobs surged forth, and I was right back on the edge of out-of-control. “And by the way, this in the middle of the worst case I’ve ever had the bad sense to get caught up in. I don’t know which is worse—my professional life or my personal life. It’s one giant nightmare all rolled into one.”

  “That’s it. I’m staying home with you today.” Donna tipped her cup up and drained it. I put my mug on the bedside table, strong objections standing at attention on my tongue, but she kept right on talking. “Resistance is futile. I’m staying with you. I don’t want you to be alone right now. We’ll face this day together.”

  Her kindness was met by my silence, even though I really, really wanted nothing more than to cry for a week. Maybe two. My head hurt so badly, I could barely think. “Thank you. I don’t even know what to do first. But I’m pretty sure I couldn’t get to it without you carping at me all day long.”

  “It’s what we do. We do for each other. I’m here for you. Now, shut up and get some rest.”

  “Yes, ma’am. But could you at least allow me the courtesy of my one phone call?”

  She smiled, triumphant, produced my phone out of her suit pocket, and slipped out the door.

  Silence filled the room, and I had the luxury of facing my personal hell undistracted for a few minutes, surrounded at a distance by my loving friends. Half of whom were definitely well armed, locked, and loaded. A glimmer of gratitude pierced the blackness in my mind. I’d been lucky, even blessed, in the midst of this miserable moment.

  I poured over my calendar, and I reviewed what I could recall of this week’s agenda at the police department. There were two personnel issues Mitch could handle easily, along with a scheduled department skills assessment at the shooting range she could run without me. I had room to breathe, and I was pretty fortunate to be in my fourth year as chief of police in Haversport instead of in my first chaotic year. I’d had the opportunity to put a fine crew in place over the years. Most of my officers were self-sufficient—well equipped to handle any emergency. More or less.

  Nick was following up a lead on our serial killer this morning and I would let him handle the investigation for now. He wanted me to call a divorce lawyer today. There was no big news afoot in our boring little village. No nasty criminals needed to be captured or killed. No ne’er-do-wells on the edge or even seeking refuge at our shiny, new station. No dangerous, deadbeat spouses on the lam—except for mine. All in all, not a bad place to be when facing what I was facing. At least my professional world was holding its own while my personal life tanked.

  Deep thoughts for my first cup of coffee. I crawled my way out of bed. Donna had laid out some jeans for me. She must’ve gone through my clothes next door. God bless her. Hers would never fit me. She was shapely and petite. My curves were rounder, and all five-foot-seven of me hung from an athletic frame.

  The warmth of a shower spurred me back to life as I played over the events of last night one more time. My mind wandered down the empty hallways and the broken plaster of my home. The one question I couldn’t stop asking myself—who is she?—hung just beyond my reach, overshadowed by an equally ominous question. How much worse was this all going to get?

  I stepped out of the shower and dried off with a plush, white towel. I examined myself in the mirror. Which parts of me hadn’t pleased my husband? What sort of body had replaced mine? Heaviness crushed me, pushing me off balance, and I sank to the toilet seat, clutching the thick towel around me. Could I even go on? Did I even want to?

  I got up and dressed.

  I headed downstairs to the kitchen. Donna sat in front of the hearth, waiting for me. I plopped into an overstuffed chair next to her.

  “How did this latest horror start? What happened, Jo?”

  “There’s nothing to tell that you don’t already know.”

  “Did something happen recently that threw him over the edge?”

  My heart beat wildly. Red heat rocketed up the small of my back toward my face. My throat tightened, and I tried to keep the venom out of my voice. “Donna, I’m telling you, I didn’t do a thing. He’s the bad guy here. I told you he tried to kill me with his car, and the whole time he had a girlfriend on the side. If he thinks he’s gonna take away our dream la
ke property, he better have his head examined. I’m taking a road trip out there. Now.”

  “Do you think that’s wise?”

  “I’m going. I have to, and I’m going alone.”

  Driving always calmed me, and my pickup truck would get me to the lake and back safe and sound. I’d worry about sane later. The Bluetooth chirped. I pressed the little telephone icon on the steering wheel and said hello into thin air.

  “Come get me, beautiful.” Nick’s smooth tones filled the truck.

  “Nick!”

  “Donna texted me, so just come get me. I’ve got everything you need, sweetener and all. I’m at the corner of Hainesville and 120. Keeping it hot, just the way you like it.”

  I was grinning like a schoolgirl by the time we finished the call. Leave it to Donna to have my back. I had company on the ride into the unknown after all. Three minutes later, I pulled into the parking lot where he was waiting for me in his government–issue, nondescript, dark sedan. As soon as he pulled his sleek frame out of the front seat, I could focus on nothing but him. He glided over to my side of the truck. I lowered the window and smiled at him as he set the coffee down on the pickup’s hood.

  “Hey, beautiful.” He leaned into my window, and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. Placing his hand on the door, he offered me the coffee life saver.

  “Cut the foreplay and get in.” I gave him my best cop glare, and he shook his head, laughing. He moved around the front of the truck and slid into the passenger seat.

  “You know you want me, Josie. Just a matter of time. No worries. I can wait a little longer. Gonna be worth it. Gonna definitely be worth it.” He reached for my hair, swirling a lock around those perfectly formed fingers.

  “At least someone’s in a good mood today.”