by C. M. Sutter
I heard the teasing in his voice, and I knew what was about to come out of my mouth would take Jack by surprise. “With your permission, I’d like to stay for a few more days.”
He chuckled then paused. “Wait a minute, are you serious? Is this about the missing officer from Vice?”
“Partially, yes, but it’s also about the Fulton County Butcher.”
“He already has a moniker?”
I sighed. “I’m sure the press pulled that out of a hat, and it’s stuck. Remember the dream I told you about?”
“Of the guy with the hatchet?”
“It was a meat cleaver, but yes. Remember I said a man was dragging a heavy black bag?”
“Uh-huh, I remember that.”
“Well, the next day, the bag of body parts was found in the cemetery. I went there today with an officer, and it was the same location as my dream.”
“Wow, are you sure?”
“I am, and it’s telling me I saw in advance what was about to happen in real life. I have to pursue this, Jack, since the cops have nothing to go on, and it’s coming up on two weeks.”
“Yeah, I get it. You were flying back tomorrow?”
“I was.”
“Okay, hang out there, let me move a few people around, and I’ll call you back in the morning. I’m sure Mary won’t mind sitting at your desk for a few days.”
I thanked Jack and hung up then continued on to the house. I was beat, but I still had a busy night ahead of me.
As I entered the front door, the familiar aroma of Mom’s perfect chili wafted toward me. I suddenly realized how much I missed being around family and our own traditions. I gave Beth a shoulder squeeze as I walked by. She was curled up on the couch and talking on her phone. As I crossed the room, I noticed the box of tissue on the coffee table and the overflowing garbage can on the floor. I greeted my mom and sister then took a seat at the kitchen table.
“What are your plans for leaving tomorrow, Kim?”
She tapped the wooden spoon against the pot of chili then placed it in the spoon tray and washed her hands. “I postponed it until Friday.”
“Really? I think Jack will give me a few extra days too. I’ve been out with a patrol officer all day long”—I lowered my voice—“and checked out every dumpsite as well as the spot where Janine was last seen.”
“Did any of the places give you pause?”
“Oakland Cemetery did, Mom, and that was where the last bag was found. I actually dreamed about that scene Friday night.”
“But the body parts weren’t found until yesterday morning.”
“Exactly.”
“Oh my Lord, now what?”
“Now I have to implement my gifts to the best of my ability.” I gave Kim a quick glance and waited for the eye roll, but it didn’t come.
Kim leaned across the table and spoke quietly too. “Isn’t that cemetery about a half mile from here?”
I nodded. “Don’t worry. The cops assured me the body parts they found aren’t Janine’s. I can’t give you details, but just trust me on that one, please.”
Beth entered the kitchen with the tissue box in hand. “That was Emily. She’s flying in tomorrow, so I guess I’ll go home.”
I spoke up. “Beth, stay the night. I’m sure Kim or Mom would be happy to drive you to the airport to pick up your sister tomorrow. In your state, you shouldn’t drive, and I bet you haven’t had more than a few hours of sleep since Friday night.”
Beth poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down. Her eyes were bloodshot but filled with hope. “Did you learn anything about Janine today?”
“I’m sorry, but not yet. I stood at the spot where she was last seen, but nothing seemed out of place. It was just a typical street corner, and the officer I was with said they’d searched the area thoroughly.”
“How about her phone? Can’t they ping the nearest tower to find her location?”
Kim reached in the upper cabinet and pulled out four bowls then opened the silverware drawer and took out four large spoons. She set the table while Beth questioned me. Mom dumped a bunch of oyster crackers in another bowl, added a spoon, and put it on the table. With a hot pad in each hand, she brought over the pot of chili and a ladle and took her seat again.
“Let’s eat,” Mom said as she filled the first bowl.
I responded to Beth’s question as the bowls were passed around. “They could triangulate the phone if it was on, which it isn’t. It hasn’t been used since that last call to the precinct Thursday night. Like I was telling Mom and Kim before you walked in, I’m going to stay for a few more days and try to help the PD solve these cases. We don’t know for sure that Janine’s disappearance and the Fulton County Butcher case are connected, but we have to weigh all possibilities.” I sprinkled oyster crackers on my chili, blew over the spoonful I’d scooped up, and took a bite. “This is really good, guys, thanks.” I turned back to Beth. “After dinner, I’ll need you to tell me about all of Janine’s personality traits. Then I’ll be spending the rest of the night working in my room. I’m not trying to be antisocial, I just need to concentrate really hard if I’m going to make a difference in the cases.”
Beth reached out and grasped my hand. “You have no idea how much I appreciate your help, Kate.”
I gave her a hopeful smile. “I’m happy to do whatever I can.”
Chapter 34
Greg jabbed her thigh with the broomstick, and she didn’t budge.
Is she really out for the count, or is she faking it? I wasn’t able to press the full dose into her neck before she jumped out of my reach.
He jabbed her again and yelled out her name. “Tristan, wake up. I can’t let you go if you’re asleep.” He waited. Nothing.
Greg cautiously turned the key in the padlock and slipped it off the latch. He kept one eye on her at all times. Sprawled out in the pen, she lay face down and he couldn’t get a good look for fluttering eyelids. They would surely give her away.
He pulled the gate open and scraped the bottom of her foot with his fingernail. Her foot didn’t curl and her toes didn’t wiggle, and her lack of reaction gave him the confidence he needed to pull her out. Greg grabbed each ankle and pulled her toward him. She was as limp as a rag doll.
Good, she’s really unconscious. Now I just have to make sure the hair dye turns out exactly how I envision. After that, she’ll get a full dose of the sedative, and I’ll begin removing her left leg.
He dragged her out of the temporary prison, through the propped-open door, and into the operating room, where a sink was built into the counter.
I’ll have to get her on the roller table so she’s at the sink height, then I can begin.
Even though she was a light hundred fifteen pounds, Greg struggled to lift Janine, but dead weight always felt heavier. He looked around the room. “Damn it, where did I leave the hair dye?” He thought back to the interruption earlier by the delivery driver. Greg had been sitting at the kitchen table reading the instructions on the back of the hair dye box. “I guess it’s still on the table.” He gave Janine a cautious stare then exited the room through the master closet. “There it is.” The box was still sitting where he had left it.
Hmm… I probably need a towel and a cup too.
With the supplies in hand, he made his way back into the closet and through the hidden door. The blow to the back of his head knocked him senseless as his knees buckled under his weight. He turned to see Tristan holding a stainless steel bin high over her head, and it was coming down on him a second time. She whacked him again, across the forehead that time, and he fell backward. Greg lunged at her leg as she stumbled to get to the door. Barely managing to wrap his fingers around her ankle, he jerked her toward him, and she tripped and fell. Tristan kicked with everything she had.
The amount of sedative she had gotten was enough to knock her out but only temporarily. Greg could see she was disoriented but still capable of escaping. He clawed her closer, but a hard kick to the face stunned him l
ong enough for her to scramble to her feet and reach the door. He saw her slam it at her back.
“You piece of shit hooker. I swear I’ll kill you the second I get my hands on you.”
Blood dripped in Greg’s eyes from the head wound, blurring his vision. He reached for the towel and dragged it across his forehead then pushed off the floor and stood, teetering for a second as the room spun. He needed to catch up with her and quick. Once she reached the outside door, he’d be screwed. The dark night and tree cover would hide her well. There was a chance she’d get away, but he knew the layout of the property, and she didn’t. His only hope was that she was still groggy and wouldn’t get far. He grabbed the rifle and the flashlight off the closet shelf and stormed out the door.
Chapter 35
I sat on the center of the bed with notes scattered around me. Beth had told me all of Janine’s personality traits that she could think of. She was tenacious, strong-willed, brave, fast-thinking, smart, witty, fierce, independent, loyal, and trustworthy. She was someone who would fight to the finish, but I hoped it wouldn’t come to that. I stared at the list then took a sip of tea. Earlier, I had printed pictures off my phone of the scenes I’d thought were the most important. Those included several shots of the street and house where the torso was found from last Halloween, on Lone Oak Avenue, and pictures of Oakland Cemetery, particularly the spot that matched the location in my dream. I was sure the corner Janine was last seen at held no relevance. It was a spot where hookers typically waited for johns. Janine just happened to be the unlucky lady of the night.
We couldn’t base the murders on the killer’s personal preference since neither heads nor fingers were ever found for print identification. We didn’t know whether he liked blondes, brunettes, or redheads or ladies who were tall, short, thin, or full-figured, although the two sets of legs and torso that were found came from average-sized women. I picked up the photograph of Janine that Beth had given me and stared at her image. She had beautiful long blond hair and striking blue eyes. Her smile, with perfect white teeth, could melt any man’s heart, yet she was happily single, and according to Beth, Janine was married to her job. She was petite for such a powerful, brave woman, standing only five feet three inches tall and weighing less than one hundred twenty pounds.
I realize you’ve dedicated your life to law enforcement, but you’re too young to die. Your mom says you’re fierce, determined, and strong-willed. You need to keep up that strength to live. Fight for your life, Janine, however you can. Just hang in there, and we’ll find you.
My gut told me that I wasn’t working two separate cases and that Janine’s kidnapping was at the hands of the Fulton County Butcher. In my heart and soul, I knew that if I found one of them, I’d find them both.
I pulled the nightmare from my mind again after reading my dream journal for the umpteenth time. I tried to separate each segment of the dream and run it in slow motion. I needed to pause on the killer’s face and see if he looked at all familiar. I could go through the known felon list at the police station or review a list of the people who had recently been released from prison. I had to match him up with somebody, or we’d never get anywhere.
I stared at the map I had printed out of each dumpsite. A red dot was placed on every street where law enforcement had found a body part—or parts. I needed to know if there was a particular area he preferred, but there wasn’t. The dump spots weren’t near each other, so that took me back to the theory that it was the street or location name that mattered, not a particular home, dumpster, or mausoleum.
“This is so frustrating! I can’t figure it out since I don’t know who he or any of the women are.” I pressed my temples as I thought. “Wait! There has to be cameras around the train station and the buildings surrounding the cemetery. It’s primarily apartments and commercial buildings in that area, but first I need to know how long that torso and legs had been detached from a living person. That’s the only way to narrow down the day that the bag was dumped.”
I thought about the fog that had occurred the morning of my nightmare.
Could the ground have been wet when he dragged the body? Could footprints have been left behind?
Those were all questions I had, but since I wasn’t a part of the Atlanta PD, I didn’t know if those questions had already been addressed or even checked into by Forensics. I was coming in late and coming in blind.
I remembered the news reporter saying the groundskeeper removed debris from the cemetery twice a week. I jotted that down too.
I need to talk to that groundskeeper tomorrow. If that bag wasn’t there when he last cleaned, then it’ll help narrow down the time line.
With all the street names and locations that included the words oak and Atlanta typed into my laptop’s search bar, I checked the results but nothing helpful came up.
It has to be a personal issue, something he’s holding deep inside.
I wanted to speak to the forensic team and ask if those garbage bags came from the same roll and how common they were. Could they be found at every grocery and hardware store in the greater Atlanta area? I continued jotting notes as my to-do list grew exponentially.
After guzzling down my now-cold tea, I changed into my sleepwear, and brushed my teeth. With the bed cleaned off and my notes stacked in a neat pile, I pulled back the blankets and climbed in. I picked up my phone and looked through the photos one more time, hoping something I’d missed before would suddenly come to the forefront and give me an aha moment, but it didn’t. As I scrolled backward, I came across the picture of the butcher from several days back. I had completely forgotten that I took that picture, and I suddenly felt a cold chill. I pulled the blankets up to my chin and noticed goose bumps forming on my arms.
After sitting up straight, I plumped the pillows behind my back then leaned toward the nightstand lamp. I studied the picture closely, and although it wasn’t my best shot since it was snapped on the sly, it was still something to hang on to. I had a strange feeling about Greg McMillian, and I wasn’t so quick to agree he was as innocent as Ron believed. I reached for the legal pad and added one more entry before shutting my brain down for the night.
Look up his address and see where he lives. Maybe I’ll have to pay him a visit at the butcher shop and then check out his home tomorrow.
Chapter 36
“You’re not going to get far, Tristan. I’ll find you, you hear me? That’s when you’ll pay dearly. You’ll be sorry you ever climbed into my truck Thursday night. I’m going to chop you to shreds and feed you to the neighbor’s dog.”
Greg stormed up and down the driveway and panned the flashlight through the woods. He searched the crawl space under the porch and found nothing.
“That’s it. Time to pull out the four-wheeler.”
Greg dug out his keys from deep within his pocket and ran to the shed. He hit the lights then grabbed a length of rope and stuffed it inside his jacket pocket. He climbed onto the all-terrain vehicle he used to hunt wild boar, and within seconds, he was on the trails that weaved in and out of the fifty acres of land he called home. Shining the spotlight back and forth, he searched gullies, fields, and woods. “I’ll find you, Tristan, you can count on it.”
A half hour of searching led Greg nowhere. He took to the road on the four-wheeler, kicking up gravel and dust as he barreled down the narrow shoulder. He searched the road, the ditches, and the culverts but didn’t see her. Giving up on the road, he turned around and headed to the house. She had to be somewhere on his property since her head start wasn’t that great.
Greg pointed the spotlight into the woods on either side of the driveway as he slowly chugged along. A flurry of movement on the right caught his eye. He gunned the four-wheeler and headed in but quickly realized it was only deer that had been bedded down for the night, and the disturbance had startled them awake. He spun back to the driveway and continued toward the house.
“Ha!” The headlights caught her image as she ran through the field toward t
he back woods. “There you are, you little bitch. I’ll kill you or the boars will, so take your pick. Either way, you’re dying tonight.”
Greg shifted through the gears and chased her through the field until she fell over from exhaustion. He killed the engine and walked toward her, shining the flashlight in her face.
“Now the fun is about to begin.”
Chapter 37
I felt as if I was about to have a heart attack. My lungs burned from sucking in fast gulps of air, and my legs felt like putty. I couldn’t run anymore—I was about to give up, but then I’d see the lights of that all-terrain vehicle bounce behind me as they hit every rut in the field. I’d find another burst of energy and run, but my strength would soon give out and he’d have me—as he always did. If I could just make it to the woods, a football-field length to go, he wouldn’t be able to follow on that vehicle. We’d be evenly matched, yet I’d still be on foot and running for my life.
Why was somebody always chasing me? Why couldn’t I get away? And why was I always in a life-or-death predicament?
It has to be Robert. I am in Georgia, after all. No, Robert is dead. Maybe Tony, then. Oh no, he’s getting closer, and I can’t outrun him. This time, I’m surely going to die.
I stopped running and fell to the ground. I knew I’d never make it to the woods. The air around me swirled gently, and I felt my hair blow across my face as my chest heaved up and down with every gasp. I sucked in the precious oxygen and filled my lungs. I noticed the sudden quiet, save the crickets chirping in the distance. The four-wheeler had stopped, and now the sound of heavy footsteps was getting closer. I resigned myself to die that night and made peace with my creator.
He shined the flashlight in my face then laughed. “How does it feel to know you’re about to die, Tristan?” He turned the flashlight toward his own face and grinned while I squeezed my eyes closed and waited for the death blow.