by Hadena James
“Go fuck yourself,” Maya spat in his face. “Anita told me that the man that fathered her child was a monster. It must run in the family.”
Alejandro’s face contorted. Maya braced for impact, expecting him to beat it out of her. Instead, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a syringe. He spun her in his arms and stabbed her in the back of her head with it.
It hurt. The liquid burned as it entered. Almost immediately, she began feeling ill. The world became even brighter, forcing her to close her eyes. She was lifted into the air and slung over Alejandro’s shoulder. The movements made her feel even sicker. She opened her eyes to find the darkened world was suddenly in Technicolor. It was like the transition from Kansas to Oz.
For the first time, she truly understood Anita’s death. Her last few lucid moments were going to be spent trying to fend off the effects of the LSD. She wondered what the hallucinations would be like.
Twenty
The nude body of a woman seemed out of place in the field. Owls were hooting in the distance, crickets and grasshoppers were whittling out their tunes nearby, and somewhere there was a frog trying to serenade a mate. Trees bordered three sides of the field. A road bordered the other one. Since her skin didn’t have a scratch on it, it seemed logical to think she had come from the road.
At first, it had been considered a body dump, but then someone had seen that her feet were dirty. It was hard to get dirty feet if you were being carried. Gabriel and Lucas had already found her tracks in the field, which were wet for some reason, despite everywhere else being dry. She had run into the field and just died. The wet ground was on my to-be-asked-about list.
We were here because she was dead, and unlike most dead twenty-somethings, she wasn’t leaking blood. There were no visible bruises. There were no strangulation marks. It was possible she had been killed with blunt force trauma to the head, but her hair seemed to be fine, if a little damp.
Xavier said her skin was still warm. I was willing to believe him because I didn’t want to touch her. I had gotten to a point where I could look at dead things, even be in a room with Xavier while he carved them up, but I still didn’t want to touch them. This perhaps explained why I had not become a serial killer.
“Maybe she was jogging,” Hunter suggested. For some reason, he had become the SCTU’s shadow. We didn’t need two geeks, but Gabriel didn’t seem to want to kick him to the curb and send him back to tracing whatever it was he traced in God’s country.
However, the idea that she had been jogging and dropping dead of a heart attack was unrealistic. She wasn’t built like a runner. There was too much paunch around her abdomen, there were stretch marks on her inner thighs, and she had large breasts. While I believed women with large breasts did jog, I didn’t believe they did it nude. The gravitational force of the earth was painful on large breasts returning to their normal position. Fiona had complained once about her jumping and chanting topless being painful. My own breasts had a tendency to hurt while running after suspects because I was not wearing a sports bra. Also, I could not imagine a jogger without shoes on. Even if she wasn’t tender-footed, jogging barefoot would be a challenge.
“She wasn’t jogging,” Xavier said, shining his ultra-bright pen stick flashlight into her eyes. Despite it being nighttime, her pupils were dilated. Dilation required blood flow, making it unlikely they had dilated after death.
“She was running from Raw Head,” I commented. Belladonna wasn’t just a sedative and a poison. In the past, it had been used as eye drops to dilate eyes, because it was seen as attractive for a woman to have large pupils. A handful of drugs and medical conditions could make belladonna hallucinogenic.
“Raw Head?” Hunter frowned at me.
“He’s a boogeyman,” Lucas rejoined us. “What’s with the manga eyes?”
“Belladonna can dilate pupils,” Xavier said. “Only, it usually needs to be applied to the eyes to work that way. It was a fashion craze at one time, but it’s fallen from favor. Ace probably knows loads about it. From a medical standpoint, I’d say that’s how she got the fatal dosage. Belladonna is absorbed by mucus membranes easily. Prolonged use of eye drops containing belladonna would cause eye damage, but it would also cause it to pass through the blood-brain barrier faster than eating or drinking it. I think Ace might be right, she started hallucinating and her boogeyman ran her to death. I’ll know more when I open her up.” Xavier moved his flashlight. It briefly illuminated her face.
“Well, I will be damned,” I said, my mouth falling open, “We know our victim.”
“We do?” Lucas asked.
“She was one of my rabbits.” I flipped my flashlight on her face. “Meet Maya Hudson.”
“She looks like she’s in her twenties,” Xavier said. “She has aged really well.”
Xavier was right. Maya Hudson should be in her mid-forties, but didn’t look a day over twenty-five. She certainly didn’t look older than myself or Fiona, who was thirty. I couldn’t remember how old I was, but I had a birthday coming up next month and everyone would remind me then.
“At some point in her life, she’s been pregnant, meaning Anita’s son may not be the only child she raised. Perhaps one of them could help us find her killer,” I offered.
“How do you know she’s been pregnant?” Xavier asked.
“Stretch marks on her thighs and her paunchy abdomen. She is not a big enough woman to have gotten either of those from gaining weight slowly. Not sure why she does not have stretch marks on her abdomen, but I am sure we will figure that out,” I offered. “I cannot help but notice everything seems to return to the reservation.”
“Yes, but we can’t go there, guns blazing,” Gabriel told me. “If it is someone on the reservation, we need to apply to the council for help. No, you cannot go. It requires diplomacy and finesse, neither of those are your strengths.”
“I can be diplomatic,” I defended myself.
“You also Taser people that piss you off. Sometimes you do it for the smallest slight. The last thing we need is for you to get irritated at the council and Taser one of them.” Gabriel looked at Lucas. “Go tomorrow morning? Xavier can work through the night on the autopsy. That way, we have good information to take to them.”
“The autopsy will be a formality. I’ve seen enough of these bodies to know that the cause of death is heart failure due to extreme circumstances. She was literally scared to death. Her hair is damp from running and this blasted field. However, she is also giving off a sweet smell. Her body had started to metabolize muscle tissue because it was running out of energy, but the flight instinct was too strong to stop running.”
“Is that coming from her?” I asked. I had thought it was something in the field.
“Yes. Tissue and blood samples will tell us why she was hallucinating, but I’d wager it was belladonna and PCP,” Xavier answered.
“Who the hell uses PCP these days?” I asked. “There are better ways to think you’re superman.”
“PCP is kind of old school,” Xavier agreed. “But it would have made her paranoid enough for the belladonna to create hallucinations and it would have made her run herself to death.”
“Why not meth?” Gabriel asked.
“Because I don’t think she took it herself.” Xavier pointed to the back of her head. It appeared to be a bug bite, just inside her hairline. “He got away with it once, so he used it again.”
“Serial killers,” I said the words slowly and rather loud. The owls stopped hooting, as if the word made them realize there was danger lurking nearby.
“Killers might be right.” Lucas looked off into the crowd of people that had gathered around the police tape. There were always lookie-loos at a crime scene. I hated them, but it wouldn’t be the first time a serial killer had watched the police clean up his mess. “I think group one was murdered by one killer and all the subsequent murders have been another killer. I’m not talking about a copycat either.”
“I am tired of vigilantes.”
I sighed.
“I think it’s a cover up, not a vigilante.” Lucas continued to stare into the crowd. “The question is, why cover up an unsolved serial killer case?”
“Mental illness,” I quipped. “Let’s ignore the conspiracy part. Maybe they are not covering up an old serial killer case. Maybe they are reopening it.”
“That implies a cop,” Gabriel said.
“A very tall man poisoned bottles of soda at a convenience store, after I bought soda there that also was poisoned,” I grimaced.
“She’s right; the mass poisoning is a cover up. Someone wanted us dead, but just in case it failed, they poisoned others.” Lucas shook his head. “That’s a long enemy list.”
“Not that long when you consider they would have to know my routine. It is hard for me to have a true stalker, because I move around from city to city for work and my neighborhood is heavily guarded.” In my head, I added that it wasn’t heavily guarded enough.
“There aren’t that many brilliant psychopaths in law enforcement,” Gabriel reminded me. “The pay isn’t very good.”
“What about him?” I hooked my thumb towards Hunter. “He is a brilliant psychopath and he is in Sioux Falls and he knows the SCTU routine from working with us in Detroit.”
“I admit to all those things, but I’m not doing this,” Hunter protested.
“He’s too short,” Lucas said. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but Alejandro is the best candidate for the second killer. Alejandro had a younger brother who died of an overdose. He only ever mentioned him once, but his brother was taller than him.”
“Does gigantism run in their family?” I asked, awed that there were two Guis over seven feet tall.
“Yes, his sister is my height,” Lucas said.
“Huh, I kind of meant that to be rhetorical, but that is interesting information.”
“Xavier, do an autopsy. Aislinn, go with him. Fiona, find out more information about this brother of Alejandro’s and any other siblings he might have. Lucas, get a good night’s rest, we’re going to need to be sharp tomorrow. Hunter, go home for the night. I realize you’re an asset, but so is Fiona. I will talk to the higher ups when I have a chance,” Gabriel barked at us. His last sentence made me pause and I stood next to him despite everyone else doing other things.
“Higher ups?” I asked quietly, once everyone was busy.
“There is talk of a second SCTU team, similar to ours. Hunter wants the geek position.”
“Who would lead it?” I asked.
“I found out because they asked Franklin if he would be interested.”
“Franklin is DEA,” I pointed out.
“And I was FBI,” Gabriel replied.
Twenty-One
I wasn’t sure why Xavier enjoyed his job. A person could only cut open another person so many times before it got boring. This was a boring autopsy. He was systematically removing organs, cataloging their appearance and weighing them, before sealing them inside Ziploc bags. I was desperately trying not to make jokes about sealing in freshness while reading a book on prepping for the end of the world. The oatmeal thing sparked my curiosity. I wasn’t really sure why preppers prepped for the end of the world, or at least, the end of civilization. It seemed like a lost cause. The end wasn’t going to come via power grid failures or super germs. It wasn’t even going to be zombies.
The end would look a lot like Detroit, with serial killers and mass murders lurking in the shadows. I knew, because I saw it every day. Going off the grid and storing a bunch of guns just made it easier for the serial killers. It would come in the form of belladonna pies, shot guns, and machetes. Darwin had talked about the survival of the fittest and DNA was beginning to prove that the fittest were those that had Anti-Social Personality Disorder with either sociopathic or psychopathic tendencies. Society wasn’t helping with its incessant breeding of people with borderline personality disorder.
A strange noise brought my attention to the table where Xavier was working. He was swearing softly and removing his gloves and mask. He tossed them onto the counter, letting them bounce onto the floor.
“What’s up, Doc?” I asked in my best Bugs Bunny voice.
“Full rigor,” Xavier sighed. “I’d hoped to get this done before it set in, but I failed. You were right about her having been pregnant, but she didn’t deliver. Scarring indicates that she miscarried between the first and second trimester. She had gained weight, but not enough for stretch marks to appear on her abdomen. Also, it was recent, within the last year. She died of sudden heart failure. There’s no scarring or damage of the heart; it just stopped beating. Based on my findings, the good Samaritan that called in her death was watching her and she was still alive when he made the phone call. She hadn’t been dead more than thirty minutes when we arrived. Probably less than five when the police arrived.”
“So, he is an asshole.”
“A sick asshole. He had to know she was going to die to make that call, which means he knew exactly how much of this shit he had given her and how long it would take. I think he’s been poisoning her for a while, but decided it was time for her to go, so he gave her a little extra. I won’t know for sure until all the test results come back though.”
“Was she on any other medications?”
“Most of the country is on medications for something.” Xavier snorted. “Tribal police are searching her house. I should have a list tomorrow. However, it’s not going to change my findings. She had run far enough that she was starting to metabolize muscle tissues and she was just going to keep going. This isn’t something a person does willingly. It’s painful.”
“Marathon runners do it,” I said.
“No, marathon runners condition their bodies, eat meals full of carbs before a run, and they pick a pace. They aren’t sprinting for twenty-six miles. They never get to a point where the body is metabolizing muscle mass. If they do, they cramp up, and start straining muscles. It’s their body’s way of letting them know something is wrong. This woman ignored the cramps, she ignored any strains or tears to her muscles, and she was just going to keep going. Like the Energizer Bunny.”
“How far did she sprint?” I asked.
“I don’t know, longer than she should have. Whatever she thought was chasing her, must have been really bad.”
“How about a tall man?” Gabriel walked into the room. “We found boot prints that overlapped hers for a short distance. Based on the depth of the print, it was a heavy man. He also has a strange gait and a wide step. Since Ace has been talking about tall men, we asked the forensic analysis gal if it was possible that he was tall and muscular instead of heavy set, and she said it would make the most sense, considering the long distance between steps and the size of his boots.”
“Why are the tribal police searching her house and not us?” I asked Gabriel.
“Because they are called nations for a reason. Reservations are considered sovereign soil, and therefore, they are not required to adhere as strictly to local and federal laws. They don’t want us there and we can’t force them to let us on their land at this time. Should we find definitive proof that a Native American is responsible for these deaths, then they can protest all they want, but they would still have to let us on their lands. However, until that happens, we will have to work within their guidelines.” Gabriel gave me a very direct look. I knew he was telling me to back off, but I didn’t want to. My rabbit was close enough I could smell him. Unfortunately, he seemed to be guarded by an electrified fence.
“Well, until toxicology comes back, all I can tell you for sure is that her heart stopped beating and that she was running before she died,” Xavier pulled the sheet over her body. “You mentioned the man in the boots had a strange gait. Strange how, exactly?”
“One foot didn’t come off the ground as high as the other. He wasn’t exactly dragging it, but the forensics analysis people are telling me there are signs that it wasn’t lifted as high as the other. The stride is also short
er between the right and left foot than between the left and right foot,” Gabriel answered.
“Then Ace’s tall man has something wrong with his left leg that impedes his walking,” Xavier said.
“Yeah, like muscle death caused by arsenic poisoning,” I snipped.
“Alejandro suffered muscle death in both legs. That’s why he is in a wheelchair,” Xavier snipped back.
“Alejandro is a psychopath. How much research has been done on muscle death and regeneration in psychopaths?” I raised my voice this time. “I had to have part of my calf muscle removed because of necrotic muscle tissue, but I still walk on it. It does not bother me. It does not hurt when it rains. It does not force me to limp. I can run on the damn thing without so much as a hitch and what did we discover after spending time in the burn ward in Quincy?”
“The muscle was regenerating, very slowly, but it was regenerating.” Xavier sighed.
“So, if I can do it, it seems possible that Alejandro can do it.”
“But you have an excessive amount of red blood cells to carry oxygen through your body and speed clotting and healing.”
“Yes, but is that because of the physical effects of ASPD or something else? You have never figured out why I carry so many extra red blood cells. Call and get Malachi’s red blood cell counts.” I finally lowered my voice.
“I need consent.” Xavier said.
“You have it,” I sighed. “You got his medical records earlier.”
“Those were released to me by the FBI.” Xavier narrowed his eyes, causing his face to scrunch up.