Deranged

by C. M. Sutter

  “Would it be rude if we went to Beth’s house while the group stays and visits with Mom for a while longer?” I glanced across the patio. “It is her party, after all, and they look like they’re having a great time.”

  “Should we get Mom’s attention and run it by her?”

  I nodded. “If Beth is that distraught, Mom will understand. Let’s tell her our plans.”

  Chapter 20

  The text I sent to Beth said we’d be there soon, and there she was, sitting on the porch bench as we approached her house. An ashtray at her side was filled with cigarettes smoked down to the butts. That day was not the one to warn her of the health issues related to cigarette smoking. I remembered her being a smoker twenty years back, and at her age, she was well aware of the hazards.

  Kim and I embraced Beth as we joined her on the bench. She lit another cigarette.

  “What did the police tell you?” Kim asked.

  A box of tissues sat next to the ashtray, and a plastic grocery bag—half full of used tissues—was tied to the bench’s arm. She blew her nose and dropped the tissue into the bag.

  “They wanted to know when I spoke to Janine last and how often we talked. I said she usually called me every other day, and we got together once a week if she had the time. The last conversation we had was Thursday around noon.”

  “And she fell off their radar Thursday night with no communication since?”

  “That’s what they said.”

  I wanted to establish a time line, knowing full well that the coroner could give the police a rough estimate of how long it had been since those body parts were attached to a living woman. I watched my words carefully as I spoke and tried not to mention Janine in the past tense. “What precinct does Janine work at?”

  Beth tipped her head forward. “The one north a mile or so on Trinity.”

  “Okay, good.” I wrote that down. “Does Janine have any tattoos or scars that would be easily recognized?”

  “She has several small Chinese symbols on her lower back and a dragon on her right shoulder. They aren’t noticeable when she’s in uniform, and the police department doesn’t seem to care. She said they actually help her in the roles she plays while undercover.”

  I wrote that in my notepad. I’d have to learn what body parts were found before we could make any link to Janine. “And what about scars?”

  Beth sighed anxiously and rubbed her temples. “Um, I have to think. She fell off her bike when she was nine, cut her left elbow, and wound up with four stitches, but I don’t know if that scar is still noticeable or not.”

  “Okay, that ought to help. How old is Janine?”

  “She’s twenty-five.”

  Someone Janine’s age who was recently transferred to Vice would have to be ambitious, and I wondered if she might have taken unnecessary chances to prove herself. “Okay, all I can do is contact the Atlanta PD as a goodwill gesture on your behalf and ask questions. I do have a few connections in town.”

  “I’d appreciate anything you can do, Kate. The police said they’ve been asking around in the area Beth worked. I hate to imagine her posing as a prostitute, but that was her assignment, and she was supposed to find out who the big-time pimps were so they could get a handle on the growing prostitution epidemic in Midtown. Anyway, the girls keep tight-mouthed, and the cops couldn’t let on that Janine was actually a cop. They told the ladies that Tristan—her assumed name—was reported missing and they were looking for information. That’s all they could do in that area without exposing her cover.”

  Kim spoke up. “Did they get any leads?”

  “Only that she was last seen on the corner of Third and Piedmont. The woman told the cops it was early evening and that a john picked up Tristan. She wasn’t seen again that night.”

  “No ID on the vehicle?” I asked.

  “The prostitute couldn’t remember. She said she was on her phone and didn’t pay attention.”

  “What about friends?” Kim asked.

  “She can’t tell anyone what type of undercover work she does. I even had to beg the cops to tell me what they knew so far. Telling people what she does could—and possibly did—put her in harm’s way.” With her head between her hands, Beth broke down into gut-wrenching sobs. “She’s my only child.”

  With her arm around Beth’s shoulder, Kim pulled her close and comforted her. “Kate will do her best to find out what she can. Meanwhile, you should stay with Mom. You need to be with people who will support you through this, and Mom is your best friend.”

  Beth nodded. “I’d like that.”

  “I think we should check out of the hotel and stay at Mom’s house too,” I said. “There are several police stations right here in the neighborhood, and out by the airport, we’re too far removed from everything.” I checked the time—5:09. I craned my neck and looked toward the end of the street, where Mom’s house was. It was impossible to tell how many guests remained since everyone had to park on the street wherever they could find curb space. With Mom’s fenced backyard, noise didn’t travel far, and I couldn’t hear if guests were still outside enjoying the early evening. “I’m going to the house to see if it’s clearing out yet. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  The house we grew up in was three doors down on the corner of Atlanta Avenue and Greenfield Street. Sprinkled with bungalows, Craftsman-style houses, and a few two-story homes, the neighborhood was friendly and family oriented. The parents of our childhood friends still lived in many of those homes. I entered the house and saw several neighbors at the kitchen table. We exchanged a few minutes of friendly conversation, then I excused myself to talk to Mom, who still sat on the patio with cousins and two aunts.

  “Mom, can I steal you away for a few minutes?”

  “Of course, honey.”

  She walked inside with me, and I suggested we talk in her bedroom. I followed her down the hallway to the last door on the right.

  “What’s the latest?” she asked as she took a seat on the bed.

  “We suggested that Beth stay here for the time being. Kim and I are planning to check out of our hotel near the airport and stay here too. Beth needs as much support as possible while the police are trying to track down Janine.” I sat next to my mom. “I don’t have a good feeling about this. You know Janine works undercover, right?”

  “I only know as much as Beth shares with me, and she probably doesn’t know a lot either.”

  I nodded. “That’s probably true. Anyway, the wacko who’s chopping up women is still at large, and with Janine working in the Vice unit, well, let’s say she has a very risky job. Her assignments likely take her to the worst areas of Atlanta.” I squeezed my mom’s hand. “Beth is a basket case, and we have to help brace her for bad news.” I tipped my head toward the hallway. “I’m going to the police station to talk to them on Beth’s behalf, but I don’t think she’s in the mood for party festivities. I’ll head back to her place and tell Kim you’ll call her once the house clears out. Kim will stay with Beth until then.”

  “Okay, and everyone will be gone within a half hour, I promise.”

  “Thanks, and I’ll talk to you later.” I kissed her cheek and patted her shoulder. “I love you, Mom, and happy birthday.”

  Chapter 21

  As Greg unlocked his truck and pulled the handle, the strong stench of decay filled his nostrils. He shook his head and backed away from the vehicle.

  Son of a bitch, I forgot that bagged skull was on the floor in the back seat. Now I have to get rid of it on my way home.

  Greg drove south on Moreland Avenue with the windows open. He’d find a dumpster in a busy area, where it was likely to be emptied on a regular basis since lingering odors would attract unnecessary attention. He saw a fast-food restaurant ahead on his left, clicked his blinker, and turned in on the side street just prior to the building. He checked for cameras before entering the back lot. A fast-food restaurant was a logical place to dump the bag and one where any noticeable scent would be
blamed on food waste.

  Before exiting his truck, Greg checked the camera locations, and none faced the rear of the building, where the dumpster sat. He parked and climbed out, careful to take note of the vehicles passing at the drive-through window. He waited for a large space between cars then opened the rear door and pulled out the bag, using his sleeve over his hand to carry it. With a quickened pace, he made a beeline for the dumpster fifty feet away and dropped the bag inside. He stood at the fence meant to hide the unsightly bin and waited again for a space between cars before returning to his truck.

  With his task finished, Greg turned down a side street and continued home. He was excited to see how the scalped hair looked. The best was still to come, and it was up to Tristan to complete the pieced-together perfect female. Part by tedious part, he’d have the woman of his dreams back in his arms by Wednesday night.

  Greg reached his house and went inside. A relaxing cup of tea was in order before anything else. He’d make dinner and watch an hour of TV before heading into the back rooms, where he’d work on his project until the late hours of the night. He still needed to find those perfect eyes since Tristan’s blue eyes wouldn’t do. The pièce de résistance would take place when the new head with Lola’s raven hair was attached to the rest of the body. He could barely wait.

  Chapter 22

  The police station was nearby, but it wasn’t the same PD where my old contacts were located. Many years had gone by since I’d talked to any of them, and I had no idea who was still on the force, who had retired, or who had transferred to another station. Back then, my carefree college days were interrupted by Robert Lynch, a lunatic who’d tried to take my life, and for a few months, I had regular communications with the Atlanta PD. Before heading out, I called Jack to get his opinion.

  “Sounds like what started out as a successful reunion and birthday party has now gone in the other direction.”

  “That’s true, Boss, and my mom’s dearest friend is beside herself with worry. Don’t forget that the person who is chopping up women and leaving body parts strewn across the city hasn’t been apprehended.”

  “Yeah, that too. Are you getting a bad feeling about Beth’s daughter?”

  I sighed with uncertainty. “I’m not sure. I did have a nightmare last night that included a heavy garbage bag and a man with a meat cleaver.”

  “Jeez, Kate, what have you been doing, watching horror shows on TV?”

  “No, it’s all bits and pieces of real life. I’m sure the man with the meat cleaver was only because we went to a butcher shop yesterday to order meat for the party.”

  “And the garbage bag?”

  “That’s still a mystery, but the breaking news this morning was about a large black garbage bag found behind a mausoleum in Atlanta’s Oakland Cemetery, and it was filled with female body parts. I’m not sure what to make of the dream if anything.”

  “Understood, and you want to make contact with the PD on Beth’s behalf?”

  “I do, but I don’t want them to think I’m butting into their business.”

  “Right. There are several police sergeants in Atlanta I’ve had contact with in the past. Let me see what precincts they’re located at, and I’ll call you back in five.”

  I hung up and tried to think of the best way to help with Janine’s case, even if it was only to give Beth more hope.

  Jack called back minutes later. “I have two names.”

  “Hang on. I have to write this down.” I dug through my purse for paper and a pen. “Okay, go ahead.”

  “There’s Sergeant Dave Masters at the Trinity Avenue precinct and Sergeant Chuck Juliess at the airport station. They both seem like decent fellas and might give you a sit-down, but don’t push it. I know you’re trying to act as a go-between for Beth’s sake, but you’re a long way from home, and they have no reason to share information with you.”

  “I know that, sir, and actually the precinct on Trinity is the one Janine works at. I’ll stop in there and ask for Sergeant Masters. Learning more about Janine’s disappearance—if the PD will talk to me—is the only thing I can do for Beth.”

  “Okay, keep us posted.”

  I hung up feeling somewhat better. At least I had a contact name. I plugged the address into my phone and headed north with only a mile to go.

  Luckily, the police station had a large parking lot, and I snagged a spot close to the entrance. Inside the gray concrete building, I followed the arrows to the information counter. From the other side of the security glass, an officer spoke to me through the intercom. “How can I help you, ma’am?”

  “Hello.” I looked at his shirt and saw M. Daniels embroidered on the name patch. “Officer Daniels, I’m Detective Kate Pierce from the Washburn County, Wisconsin, Sheriff’s Office.” I opened my wallet and showed him my badge, for no other reason than to verify who I was. “Is there a chance I could speak to Sergeant Dave Masters?”

  He gave me a matter-of-fact expression and asked why.

  “It’s regarding Janine Reilly. I was told this is the precinct she works at.”

  He raised his brows, studied me for a few seconds, then excused himself and disappeared down a hallway while I stood on the civilians’ side and read posters mounted in glass cases. Ten minutes later, a door opened toward me, and a man dressed in black slacks and a light-gray dress shirt walked out.

  “Detective Pierce?”

  “Hello. Yes, that’s me.” I extended my hand and shook his vigorously. “I assume you’re Sergeant Masters?” I gave him a hopeful smile.

  “I am.” He scratched his chin. “Sorry for staring, but there’s something familiar about you.”

  “I’m a native of Atlanta but have been gone for quite some time. I’d like to talk about Janine Reilly if you can spare a few minutes.”

  “Sure, come with me. There’s an empty room down the hall.”

  I walked with the sergeant down a tiled corridor and turned right into a medium-sized room with a rectangular table, six chairs, and a bookcase against the wall.

  “This is just an overflow room we use on occasion. Have a seat, Detective Pierce.”

  I pulled out a chair and sat. “I’d rather be called Kate if you don’t mind.”

  He smiled. “Yeah, formalities get old quickly. So, what’s on your mind, Kate? Is there something you know about Janine’s disappearance, and how do you know anything about her at all?”

  “Her mom, Beth Reilly, is my mother’s neighbor. My sister and I are in town visiting our mom for her birthday. Beth confided in us earlier today and told us the bad news. I have to admit, she’s beside herself with worry.”

  “And rightfully so. Janine is a good cop and steps up to the assignment no matter what it is. We’ve been hitting her last known area pretty hard, but when you ask sketchy people too many questions, they clam up, plus many of our Vice detectives have worked undercover in those areas, and we can’t risk exposing their identities. The city patrol and crime control units have been conducting the interviews, but nobody is giving them anything.”

  “Janine would have had a protocol to follow for keeping the PD posted on her activities, though, wouldn’t she?”

  “Yes, and she did, up to the point that she vanished.” Dave scratched his head and gave me a long stare. “There really is something familiar about you. You said you’re originally from Atlanta, so were you in law enforcement then?”

  “No, but years back, I had a lot of contact with the PD at a different precinct.”

  He furrowed his brows. “Could that precinct have been in Zone 4?”

  I was sure my surprise was evident. “Yes, it was. Do you know me?”

  Sergeant Masters nodded. “Now I remember why you seem familiar. Kate, I was a patrol officer back then and a first responder at the scene when you were attacked by Robert Lynch.”

  I found it hard to process what he had just said, and my eyes burned from the tears I tried to hold back. It felt as if I had just been reunited with my guardian angel
. I could barely speak, and I stammered. “I… I owe you such a debt of gratitude. I don’t remember much after the attack, but you must have saved my life.”

  “The EMTs and the hospital saved your life. I just kept you from losing too much blood until they took over.” He shook his head as if remembering that night. “Your wounds were so horrific. I’m surprised you—”

  “Lived?”

  “Sorry.” He took in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “We got that evil son of a bitch, though, and he was sent to prison.”

  “That’s true”—I reached for a tissue—“but he was released after serving ten years then came after me again in Wisconsin, but that was his last attempt. Jade Monroe, our sergeant at the time, put two bullets in his chest and killed him dead.”

  “I had no idea.” Sergeant Masters ran his fingers through his buzzed blond hair and shook his head. “And now you’re a detective with the sheriff’s office in North Bend, Wisconsin.” He smiled. “Hey, wait a minute. I know your lieutenant, Jack Steele.”

  “Yep, Jack is my boss, and he was the one who gave me your name as a contact person.”

  “So what can I do for you, Kate, regarding Janine? We’ve searched and searched and talked to everyone we can think of. Like I said, we can’t let on that she was working undercover. If she’s still alive and the person who has her finds out she’s a cop, she’ll be in even more danger. We’ve talked about putting her face on the news as a typical missing person and hoping for leads. It’s a tricky situation all around.”

  I stared at my folded hands. “Can I help out?”

  He looked shocked. “Aren’t you in town visiting your mom, and don’t you have a job to get back to?”

  “I am, and I do, but there’s something the Atlanta PD doesn’t know about me.”

  Sergeant Masters held up his hand. “Call me Dave, please, and it sounds like we’re going to need some coffee to go along with this conversation.” He tipped his head toward the door. “Come on. Let’s hit the lunchroom. At this time of night, there shouldn’t be anyone in there.”