by Allen Gates
3
“HOW GREAT IS this partner? Box seats watching the Yankees and the Angels go head to head, and the best part—the tickets were given to us.”
Detective Anne Cummings looked over at him in amusement wondering how he could get so excited over a ballgame. She watched him finish the first of his two hot dogs wondering if he had taken time to chew or had swallowed each bite whole.
“Are you eating that hot dog, or wearing it, she asked him?” Taking a napkin, she reached over and wiped the mustard off his upper lip and chin. He laughed and as he turned to thank her he looked into her eyes for the first time since she had been assigned as his new partner.
“Thanks Anne,” he said and looked back toward the field.
She smiled knowing that his brief admiring stare was a positive step toward her acceptance as his partner. She had ignored warnings from fellow officers that he did not like female partners. All she cared about was that he was rated as a top notch detective and she wanted to be associated with the best.
His next comment was directed at her, but it did not have a lot of meaning. “Something has got to happen here, partner, the Yanks need some runs.”
This revelation had no more than left his mouth when his cell phone broke into a loud rendition of Dixie. She watched him as he reluctantly began raising his phone and noticed the muscles in his arm stretch his shirt sleeve. He was obviously a former athlete or a gym junkie and he was handsomely tanned which suggested beach time. Appraising his height she settled on 6’1 or 6’2. His NY Yankee baseball cap coupled with his black trimmed mustache gave him a special look that she liked from the very first day they began working together. She figured him for a wanna-be cowboy wearing pointed boots and tight jeans with a big silver buckle on the front of his belt. It projected a manly appearance which she liked and she would have to be very careful to remember they were partners and anything more could never be considered. He finally placed the phone against his ear during a lull in the action on the field.
“This is Detective Sanders, on this end, he blurted out, and this had better be a very important message to interfere with my first ballgame in years.”
The roar of the crowd momentarily took his attention from the phone call. A deep fly ball to left field cleared the wall and the Angels took the lead.
“Not good” he said placing the phone back to his ear. “I’m back, so what is so important?” He made a whoops expression to her.
“Oh, it’s you Chief! What? Come on chief, can’t someone else handle the preliminary stages and I’ll pick it up tomorrow?”
“Yea…okay I got it…alright, I got it…look I understand, I’m on my way!” Placing the phone back in his pocket and continuing to stay focused on the next pitch he asked, “Why do I love this job?”
He leaned over to his partner.
“Look Anne, that was the chief; it looks like our serial killer has struck again. Why don’t you take the call and I’ll stay and finish the game?”
She looked at him quizzically, and asked, “Are you nuts? There’s no way I’m leaving you behind, Lon, so let’s get the show on the road.”
“Good response, I was just messing with you.”
He gave her the “atta girl” smile and thumbs up, knowing this was the exact response he expected from her and had felt safe in making the offer. He wondered how he would have handled it if she had agreed. Then wondered if he would have stayed in the stadium given the same choice? How often do I get to see the Yankees? Yes, I think I would have stayed.
Attaching the portable blue light to the roof of the car and turning on the siren, a deafening sound that Lon had always hated, they made their way out of the downtown area headed toward the murder scene along the coast.
As they neared the site described by the chief they saw the flashing lights of a patrol car up ahead and as they approached were directed to the side of the road by a uniformed policeman wielding a flashlight. Lon recognized the officer from working together as a uniform patrolman several years prior and as they were getting out of the car the officer walked over.
“Hey Lon, it’s been a while.”
“Yea it has Leo. I see your still running the roads.”
“I like the freedom it gives me. Listen; let me explain what we have here.”
He gave a brief summary of the observations he had made from his initial examination of the scene. Lon asked several questions there on the roadside wanting Leo’s description before he asked him to lead them to the body.
The body turned out to be a young Asian female. She was lying face down which Anne pointed out immediately was not the serial killers usual MO. The most glaring similarity to all the previous victims was her partially clad body with the outer garments missing from the scene.
Lon knelt down and leaned close to her face noting her eyes wide open in a death stare that he had seen too many times. He eye searched the rest of her visible body then he stood and surveyed the surrounding terrain; it was a treeless, tall weeded stretch of ugly rolling coastal ground.
“Partner,” he said, still looking over the terrain, “this was a perfect place to dispose of a body, because barring the unlikely chance that someone stopped to take a leak and stumbled on the body, it may never have been discovered.” Lon motioned a let’s go to Anne and they walked over to the patrolman.
“Who found the body, and when?” Lon asked”
“You won’t believe it. She could have been lying here in this isolated spot for weeks maybe longer, but a hitchhiker walking by stepped off the road to take a leak and stumbled on the body.”
Lon looked over and smiled at Anne relishing in his astuteness before he said, “Where is this hitch hiker with the bladder problem?”
“He’s up top sitting in my car, pretty shaken up.”
“What was your initial reading on the guy, Leo?”
“I didn’t get any sense of nervousness in his behavior. Let’s face it, it’s very dark and he could have taken off running when I approached him, but he waited and nothing he has said so far connects him in any way to this young ladies death.”
“I’ll speak to him in a minute,” Lon responded as he walked away.
He yelled back at Leo, “The chief said the coroner had been summoned. Is that right?”
“On the way Lon, should have been here by now.”
The sound of “Dixie” suddenly broke the silence. Looking at his phone he saw that it was his son.
“Hey Tad, what’s going on?”
“Hi Dad, you must be happy with the Yanks up by two.”
“I’m sure glad to know that Tad, but I can’t talk to you right now. I’ll explain later when I get home, Okay?” Hanging up he turned to his partner who was still on her knees next to the body.
“What do you think Anne? Is it the same guy?”
“I would have to say yes, although there is one thing that does not match up.”
“Tell me what you mean.”
“He left this one alive.”
Kneeling down beside the body, he listened as Anne pointed out the differences. First the fact that she is on her stomach. Then there are the hands and the feet. Lon realized immediately what she had picked up on. The victims fingers were imbedded deep into the sandy soil and the feet had created dragging depressions from what appeared to be her attempt to push or crawl her way for help.
“This could be a copycat using a similar MO, or the killer simply made a mistake this time?”
“She apparently feigned death, but couldn’t hold on after the killer left her, Anne added.”
Lon again knelt down on one knee bent close to her face and looked deep into her eyes. “How did he find you and why did he select you?” He continued to kneel and stare as if he was actually waiting for her to answer his question.
Anne was surprised at the concern in his words and on his face. For the first time she saw a soft side to Detective Lon Sanders.
Loud talking made them aware that the coroner had arrived. S
tanding up, Lon turned toward the approaching man, recognizing him from past crime scenes.
“It’s Lon, isn’t it?” the approaching man asked
When he reached them he extended his hand to the much taller detective in cowboy boots and blue jeans.
“Yea, that’s right and this is my partner, Anne Cummings.”
Anne acknowledged him then apologized for their lack of dress code. Lon side glanced at Anne, knowing that it was exactly how his wife would have reacted. His wife always felt the need to apologize for his cowboy boots. He figured it must be a woman thing.
4
AFTER KNOCKING ON the door of room 12, she couldn’t resist the need to straighten the upside down number two. It didn’t last and fell back to the upside down position swinging back and forth on the small nail. She stepped back with renewed intentions of walking back to her car then noticed the peephole darken and the rattling of the safety chain and as she watched the door begin to open she felt a nervous chill come over her as she saw the shadowed image of the man for the first time.
“I assume you are Marie,” he said, and opened the door fully stepping back allowing her space to enter. The room was lightly illuminated, causing a hazing effect on his facial features. Her inner radar system sensed something was wrong.
It was his hair and the horned rimmed glasses looked wrong on his face. He was nothing like she had pictured and yet there was a familiarity about him. When she stepped inside he closed the door quickly and locked it. She was startled by this and looking into his eyes and for the first time she knew immediately she had made a mistake.
He wasted no time in letting her know that her fears were justified. In an instant he swung her around and wrapped her in his arms and placed his hand over her face preventing her from breathing. His strength was such that after a brief struggle she knew no matter how much she resisted, she could not win. Her attempt at escape subsided as the lack of air in her lungs caused her to slowly lose consciousness. Her body sagged in his arms as he released his hand from her mouth and nose and tenderly placing his arm beneath her legs he lifted and placed her on the bed. He stood over her feeling a deep love for her, but she had sown her mistakes and she had to reap her punishment.
Grabbing a black case from the dresser, he opened the latched compartment and removed a roll of tape and after tearing a strip he placed it carefully over her mouth. Then pulling her up to an upright position he propped her against the headboard all the while glancing at her eyes for signs of consciousness. He undid the buttons and removed her blouse folded it neatly and paced it adjacent to the open case. Next, he rolled her on to her side and undid the button at the waist of her skirt and pulled down the zipper. Her eyes became half open squinting like she didn’t want him to know she was watching him. As he gently turned her over onto her back he grabbed the hem line and lifted her slightly and removed her skirt. The sudden unexpected sound of her struggling for air as she wakened caused a brief panic in him, so he quickly secured her hands and feet with the tape. A second deep gasp for air came out of the awakening woman, and her face took on a look of fear that startled him. Her face was distorted from the pressure of the tape over her mouth and the look of fear changed to one of helplessness as a tear ran down her cheek.
“Just like a cheat,” he said, “You’re ready to play the game, but not willing to bear the shame.”
“You reap what you sow,” he said softly. His whispered statement caused an obvious reaction from her as she immediately began struggling against her bonds.
This reaction from her pleased him. How many times in his early life had he heard his father repeat that phrase? Now here he was proving that the man had been right. Marie had been playing her cheating game with him for weeks, proving to him she was willing to throw away the life they had built together. Now here she was stained by her guilt looking up at him wanting his pity.
“There will be no sympathy Marie!” he said sternly.
He was not sure if he was warning Marie because of the deceit she plied against him or to keep the edge he needed to carry out his plan.
Grabbing a Kleenex off the nightstand, he wiped the tears from both of her cheeks then placed the used tissue into the small case.
“I can’t forget anything,” he thought to himself.
Her whimpering caused him to look back into her eyes and for a moment he felt a pang of tenderness, but quickly dismissed that feeling of weakness and began the final preparations for what lay ahead.
Her eyes followed him as he moved methodically around the dimly lit room. He looked at her periodically and sensed her concern to an unanswered question; is he going to kill me?
As he continued his preparations he could feel her eyes staring. Turning and looking at her face he became angry that it radiated with a plea for mercy. He knew it was her attempt to distract him and deprive him of the pleasure he was waiting to experience from her reaction when he unveiled his secret to her.
5
“IT’S DEFINITELY THE same guy Lon.”
With this observation tossed out to the detectives Marvin rose from his knees and continued.
“I did the processing on three of the earlier victims and everything we see here matches. The placement of the body face down does not match, but that is due to her last struggle to live. Her being disrobed down to undergarments and the mode of death, air deprivation all suggest the same killer. I think we’ll find in the autopsy a crushed larynx from his choking grip.”
He paused appearing to be deep in thought.
“Detective’s I am very troubled about our situation with this killer remaining out there attacking these women.”
Anne asked for an explanation for this comment.
Shaking his head in an understanding motion, he said, “Let me explain. This guy is in a constant changing mind-set, detectives. Some deep hidden anger or demon spirit seems to be highly inflamed inside this guy. He’s expressing a need to fill a blank in his life caused by some dark scarring incident from his past. It could have been caused by his mother or a woman or maybe women in general. Through these acts of revenge murders, he feels justification.”
He looked at Lon and then to Anne watching for their reaction. Anne showed no change of expression simply continued to stare at him waiting for him to continue his observations.
“Here’s the kicker; I feel the anger and passion he feels is becoming stronger with a need to ease the hurt that he carries around inside him. To ease those pains he hunts these women. I tell you this with complete professional warnings; we had better find him quickly.”
He paused once again, deep in thought.
“I think he’s like a shark, with blood in the water. He’s feeding on his ability to kill and it is getting to the point that he is no longer in control of this evil need and whatever the need is, it’s increasing in intensity. I predict, based on the evidence here in comparison with the past cases, he will become more sexually volatile with each new victim.”
An ambulance pulled up before either detective could ask for further details on his theory. Marvin waved to them and then turned back to the detectives.
“They’ll transport the body to the lab and I’ll get right on the autopsy. I’ll call immediately when I have any information for you.”
“That’s great, Doc, we really need a break in this case. Some kind of DNA has got to show up from this guy. They always make a mistake sooner or later, but this guy is being real careful.”
They watched as the body was wrapped and placed in a black bag and then lifted onto a stretcher and carried up the hill.
“How many more, Lon, before we catch this guy?”
Anne waited expecting an answer, but Lon continued to stare at the departing group carrying the woman’s body.
“You know Anne,” he said, coming out of his trance like state, “if the coroner’s theory is right, the killer could get careless as he becomes more sexually active with his victims and may become overly confident in his ability to
evade detection. I think the fact that he left this girl with even a fraction of life left in her body, proves that theory.”
They walked up the hill to the squad car and the young hitchhiker who had discovered the body was sitting in the back seat with the door opened and he stepped out as they approached.
“Hey,” he said unsure of what to expect from them. “This was some night. I never expected to ever be involved in anything like this.”
“We can understand your uneasiness. Tragedies like this can be nerve shaking to the toughest of us. Are you holding up, Anne asked?”
“I’m fine, now.”
He realized Lon’s querying eyes were staring at him analyzing his words for truth or lies and he decided against saying anything further that might incriminate him.
After the two of them were satisfied he had answered their questions on the why and how he happened to be in the area of the dead girl’s body, they took down his personal information and released him. Lon watched him as he walked away hoping they had not made a mistake by letting him go.
“You had better get home Lon,” Anne said. “Your family thinks you’re still at a ball game.”
“Man, oh man, I forgot about Tad’s call. Come on, I’ll drop you off at your car, and listen, I know from experience we can count on being under the microscope tomorrow when news of tonight’s murder is spread all over the papers. The big wigs will be looking for someone to sacrifice to the media.”
Lon left final instructions for the officer staying behind protecting the scene and walked quietly to the squad car. The trip was relatively quiet compared to their usual banter; instead each remained deep in their thoughts, trying to make sense of the information they had gathered and where to go from there.
“If you take the next left, Lon, it’s a shortcut to where you picked me up. Going against my ‘I know better’ side I’m going in and have a nightcap before I turn in. I’d ask you to join me, but you need to get home and spend some time in that bed of yours.”