The Predator and The Prey: An Inspector Thomas Sullivan Thriller (The Chronicles of Inspector Thomas Sullivan Book 1)

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The Predator and The Prey: An Inspector Thomas Sullivan Thriller (The Chronicles of Inspector Thomas Sullivan Book 1) Page 15

by K. C. Sivils


  The stinging pain in her fingers told Alice the circulation in her hands was returning. She pulled off her hat and hung it on one of the many pegs in the mudroom. Hurriedly, Alice stuffed her gloves in the pockets of her coat and hung it up as well, leaving on only her jacket she’d worn underneath her coat.

  Children’s laughter could be heard back in the sleeping area of the dormitory. Alice made her way quickly back to the area. To her surprise, the children were all sitting in a circle, playing some game she didn’t recognize. Standing behind the circle was the young woman, a broad smile stretched across her face as she watched the children play.

  Alice realized she’d never seen the girl smile before. Taking a good look at the girl’s face, Alice realized she was quite pretty under the dirt. Not wishing to disrupt the happy moment, Alice simply watched in silence. Without warning, the young woman looked in Alice’s direction. The broad, beautiful smile vanished instantly to be replaced with the familiar haunted look that usually occupied the girl’s countenance. Casting a quick glance at the children playing, the girl walked silently toward Alice.

  Alice smiled, hoping to place the girl at ease. “They seem more relaxed. Did you teach them that game?”

  The girl nodded and glanced back. Without looking at Alice, the girl whispered softly, “I fed them. Just sandwiches but they didn’t complain. I made myself a sandwich too, if that’s okay.”

  “I’m sure Father Nathan wouldn’t mind, especially since you were watching the kids while he was away.”

  The girl glanced at Alice, looking the older woman in the eye before looking down at her feet. “How is the boy? He’s their leader.”

  “I don’t know. Father Nathan is still at the hospital so I’d have to say it’s pretty serious.”

  Wrapping her arms around herself, the girl just nodded in agreement. With no warning she began walking toward the hallway. Pausing for a moment, she looked over her shoulder at Alice.

  “I’m going to leave now. If you need me to, I can come back tomorrow and watch them. I don’t mind.”

  “That would be good. I have to work both shifts tomorrow. If you could be here before 0500 that would be a big help. I don’t know when Father Nathan is going to be back. I am sure it would be okay if you ate with the kids.”

  The girl nodded her agreement and vanished from sight. A minute later the bang of the door to the mudroom opening and shutting filtered into the sleeping area. Alice realized she’d never asked the girl her name.

  ---

  Nightfall had come and with it a cold front. Not a bad one. It wasn’t dumping a lot of snow and frozen rain. It was just bitterly cold and the wind was picking up. The forensics unit had confirmed two things for me. The box I’d found was indeed part of the shipment of melanothorazine that had disappeared. Interestingly enough, it had yet to be reported as stolen.

  I’d been standing in the cold, just outside the main entrance thinking about that one fact and the implications of it when the techs confirmed the second fact I was already sure of. The repair in the floor contained a body, probably female. Based on the condition of the material used to patch the foundation, the tech estimated the body had been buried there just over two years ago. He’d have to run more tests back at the lab to be certain, but it was a good enough guess for now.

  I told him to make certain the box was duly noted and logged into the evidence room at his precinct. Not mine. I was certain if I logged it into evidence it would disappear within hours. I also told the tech not to mention it to anyone. Just fill out the paperwork and let it go at that. He looked at me with a knowing look and nodded. He got the point. That box was evidence somebody would want to make disappear.

  It had been an awful day and I was beat. I decided to head for Joe’s to grab a bite to eat and then sleep for a couple of hours. Time was precious and I could sense it. If I didn’t break something soon, it was all going to fall apart. I needed something to break my way.

  The Cowboy and the disappearance of the meds were connected. They had to be. Why else would the Cowboy kill and brand the foreman Tim Johnson? The Cowboy was a true, evil predator. He singled out prey that was weaker, that could not fight back. Taking on a mining foreman deviated from the pattern of selecting females. Johnson no doubt had been in his share of brawls.

  Selling an entire shipment of meds intended to prevent an outbreak of a dread disease would not bother the Cowboy in the slightest. He probably liked the idea of profiting financially while others suffered a horrible death as a result of his actions.

  My stomach growled, reminding me again I was hungry and tired. I talked to the forensics crew one final time, checked the warrant they’d managed to obtain and assured myself again it would hold up. I waved goodbye and hurried through the cold wind to my hover car.

  I sat and let the vehicle warm-up before I headed out. Josephson had told me it was a good idea to do so when the temperatures dropped suddenly. Cold hover cars were known to occasionally lose their air cushion and bottom out without warning. The results of which were usually not pretty.

  My comm had been buzzing regularly for the last two hours and I had been ignoring it with the same degree of regularity. Hoping whoever was calling would just give up. Not the smartest thing to do, but I was irritated. I had a bad feeling the brass was about to drop the hammer on me.

  The buzzing wasn’t going to stop, so I gave in and fished my comm out of my pocket. A quick glance told me it was another anonymous message, not a caller. Different comm number than the message that led me to the warehouse.

  I read the message and got one of those sinking feelings you get in the pit of your stomach when bad news is delivered.

  The brass planned to surprise me in the morning with my Internal Affairs review of the deadly force incident when I’d arrived at the spaceport. The brass, and whoever was pulling their strings, planned to drop a bomb on me.

  The public had taken notice of the Cowboy’s work. Pressure from the media and the wealthy citizens had to be driving the Governor, Mayor and Chief O’Brian crazy. Time to find a scapegoat.

  The outbreak of Miner’s Cough had to be kept under wraps as well. If that wasn’t possible, I figured they’d hang that one on me too. My sinking feeling got worse when I remembered the two missing security guards Josephson and I had brought in.

  They were probably dead, frozen stiff and waiting for the comm link that would lead beat cops to their bodies. The mere thought of being framed for their deaths made my pulse race. I had to get this together. Not just because it was my job, the right thing to do. I had to save my own skin.

  I glanced down to read the warning again. I noticed another line of text and scrolled down further. I found some interesting reading. Very interesting. I’d be late getting to Joe’s for that bite to eat.

  ---

  He had not heard from any of his partners in the “enterprise.” A quick glance at the chronometer on his desk told him most of the workers in the beautiful, clean government building would be departing soon. Normally he preferred not to be bothered by his partners. They were a distraction at best, a nuisance to be tolerated. It wasn’t like he didn’t have plenty of work to do. Legitimate work.

  The problem was, serving as the Financial Comptroller of the planetary territorial government would never make him wealthy. Not to the degree he deserved to be. When approached by his partners, it had been an easy decision to make. They needed his accounting skill and access to government property to make their profitable little scheme work. He needed their connections with smugglers and black marketers.

  For a long time, their little arrangement had worked. Each of the partner’s off planet bank accounts had grown nicely. What he hadn’t counted on was the stress his “second job” would cause. Stress that had grown into rage.

  If they had just recognized the fact he had the most stressful job of all the partners it would have eased the rage. But his partners were too blinded by their greed and arrogance to see he was the key player i
n their little enterprise.

  At first, the rage had bothered him. Unable to talk about it, not even to his wife, the pressure had become too great. He’d gone for a walk in an effort to calm down, to let the freezing temperatures of Capital City work their magic on his rage. But the stupid woman just wouldn’t get out of his way. He hadn’t meant to lose his temper and strike her with the handle of his cane.

  But he had. And he found that he liked it. The pressure and rage were gone in that one single, clarifying moment. He’d glanced about but nobody had seen him. Suddenly worried he’d be caught he fled the scene and returned to his office. The sounds of police hover cars approaching reminded him CCTV cameras must have recorded the murder.

  Using his security clearance, he poked around in the files until he found what he was looking for. In a matter of seconds the digital video of his crime was gone. Using hacking skills developed during his college days to change grades, he destroyed every trace he’d been in the CCTV databanks.

  As the days passed, his stress began to build again as he worried about getting caught. Weeks passed and the pressure again had become almost unbearable, leading him to snap at his wife and children. Even worse he was rude to his secretary, an act he considered intolerable, the behavior of lessor people.

  The relief he’d felt when Markeson had told him the case was being moved on to the Cold Case files had been tangible. That night he’d killed a homeless woman. This time he’d made sure there was no CCTV to deal with. The kill after that one had been when he began to think of himself as a predator and his victims as prey. His fifth kill was the first to bear the brand, his mark. The Cowboy had been born long before the media had finally given him his name.

  Once again, the pressure and rage were building up. The Cowboy sensed his partners were angry with him. They had no right to be. He’d made them all so much money. But things were a bit tense. Everything would be okay if they just remained calm. The payday for selling the entire shipment would be more than each of them would earn in five or six years. So what if a few irrelevant miners died as a result? They were nothing more than prey animals. Animals to be hunted by alpha predators like him.

  He decided it was time. Time to change things. He’d been planning for a long time to change his life and now might be the time to do it. The Cowboy didn’t like being rushed but events were forcing his hand. If his partners were going to betray him, he’d see to it their partnership was dissolved.

  He smiled at the thought for a moment before he felt the pangs of despair. He liked his wife. So long as she had all the money she wanted she didn’t nag him. In fact, he’d discovered by hiring a private investigator she didn’t even cheat on him. She was still attentive and willing in bed. But, for his plan to work, he’d have to deal with her. He would have to travel fast and travel light.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Markeson was worried. Everything was arranged for Sullivan’s hearing. The three Internal Affairs officers all owed him. He had dirt on two and the third one owed him money. Sullivan though was an unknown quantity. Markeson realized the man had survived for years despite the controversy that followed him from one duty posting to another. Survivors like Sullivan had to be dealt with carefully.

  Pressure from the public to catch the Cowboy was mounting. Markeson doubted they would be able to suppress the news of an outbreak of Miner’s Cough. Sullivan had to take the fall for both and the hearing was the perfect way to hang it all on the Inspector. He’d take care of the Cowboy himself the first opportunity he had after the hearing.

  Markeson smiled at the thought. A little publicity for taking out a serial killer wouldn’t hurt him at all. Especially after Sullivan had taken a fall for failing to do the job. That was all Markeson needed to make his decision. He pulled out a burner comm and sent the message he’d typed in earlier but not sent the link for.

  It would be only a few hours before the bodies of the two guards would be found west of Capital City. Two murder charges should be enough to finish even Sullivan off.

  ---

  Sarah hurried down the street. She didn’t care which direction she traveled so long as it was away from the church. For just a moment she’d let her guard down with the kids and it frightened Sarah. Watching the children had been nice. It reminded Sarah of her two sisters and the fun they used to have. Alice’s return reminded Sarah just how dangerous it was to let your guard down for even a moment.

  The pain came back in waves, reminding Sarah of the anguish she felt over the death of her sister. The sheer horror when the monster had come for them. The guilt she felt that she had escaped and her sister had not.

  Sarah had vowed to find her other sister. She’d also vowed to never feel pain and guilt like she’d experienced ever again. That meant being ever vigilant. Never getting close to anyone ever again. Not until she found her sister.

  Tracing her surviving sister to Beta Prime had been a challenge. The monster was still alive and hunting Sarah. Hunting her sister. Life had taught Sarah a cruel lesson. Monsters were everywhere. It didn’t matter where she went. There would be a predator who looked at her and saw prey.

  Watching the kids had been a mistake. She’d let her guard down. Especially when she’d taught them the game. Sarah stood among a throng of people waiting for the traffic light to change in order to cross the icy street. The cold win stung her face, making her shiver. Confusion clouded Sarah’s mind. The pain of loneliness had driven Sarah to let her guard down. It was a pain she had never expected to feel. Everything she had learned told Sarah her sister lived somewhere in the southeast quadrant of Capital City. Sarah also knew how hard it was to find someone who did not want to be found.

  Hiding in plain sight was a skill Sarah had developed in order to survive. As she walked down the street among the throng of people, she sensed again a predator would hunt her again and soon. Her troubled thoughts turned to the tall, scarred police Inspector. Confusion entered her mind again. Sarah did not know why she’d gone to his place and waited for him. Why she’d left the message chip for him.

  ---

  I braced myself for the short walk from the subway station to my place. I needed to eat, sleep and think. Rest was a weapon. I had to think, plan for the hearing in the morning.

  The harsh, cold wind was bracing and helped me clear the fog in my mind. I hurried past Joes, missing the warm and friendly comfort of the now familiar place. Even the neutral grunt from my landlady as I breezed through the lobby toward the stairs was growing familiar and comfortable.

  In a short time, I’d put down some shallow roots. I wasn’t going to let whoever was behind the smuggling operation drop me in the sewer to cover up his tracks. I decided right then if I was going down, I would go down swinging and take as many of them with me as possible.

  Whoever “them” turned out to be.

  I let myself in and quickly locked the entrance. A quick sweep for bugs told me I was alone and could think aloud if I wanted to. I sat down at the small desk I’d gotten for my bedroom and looked at my laptop. Resting on the device was the message chip she’d given me. My mystery girl who haunted me.

  The fog came back and I shook my head hard to clear my mind. It had to be nothing more than a coincidence that she looked so familiar. With the trillions of humans and humanoids living in the galaxy, there had to be other women who looked the same.

  I had to be ready. The last time I went before an Internal Affairs Review Board was for a similar situation. Similar, except I wasn’t quick enough on the draw.

  A monster who’d tortured and killed dozens before I put him down took one more innocent life before my eyes.

  I’d made the mistake of hesitating. A split second was all it took. He saw it in my eyes, the hesitation, the fear I might hit the woman. The monster smiled as he slit her throat from ear-to-ear.

  It was the last thing he ever did. I put a kinetic round through his right eye, blowing the back of his head off. He was dead before he hit the ground, pulling the
dying girl down on top of him. She looked me right in the eye, gasping and making gurgling sounds as she bled out.

  Before her soul departed, her eyes told me she didn’t blame me. So I blamed myself.

  Not just for her death either. I blamed myself for the last three victims. Teenage girls who’d one way or another wound up on the gritty streets of New Bangkok on Cigna III. I’d been assigned to the case to clean up the mess the other detectives had made.

  If I’d been quicker in putting it all together and figuring out who the monster was, those three girls would be alive. Their lives wouldn’t have ended in unspeakable horror and agony.

  The police shrink said I shouldn’t blame myself. I’d been assigned to a high profile case that had been screwed up before I was handed the reins. It ended a lot of careers and almost ended mine. Hesitating before taking a precision shot like the one I’d made was natural.

  What she didn’t realize was my cybernetic eye was also a precision targeting mechanism. I hadn’t missed a shot since the Space Marine surgeons outfitted me with it. I was even banned from shooting competitions.

  I looked at the message chip and picked it up.

  She’d taken a big risk to give it to me. I owed it to her to at least look at it. Guilt began to roll over me in waves. I should have looked at it when I got up that morning.

  I booted up my computer and inserted the message chip. In a second an image of my mystery girl appeared. She was somewhere dark and nervous as a cornered space rat. I adjusted the volume and hit play.

  ---

 

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