by Jen Talty
Jones stood in the kitchen, which was to the right of the front door, talking with a uniformed officer. The family room was straight ahead. Down the hall, he noticed three doors; he assumed two bedrooms and one bathroom. Through the door directly at the end of the hall he could see movement and lights flashing.
“What do we have?” he asked Jones, handing him his cup.
Jones thanked the uniformed officer, who then ducked into the hallway. “He was the first one to arrive with the EMT. First to interview the father.”
“Is that who Kara and Foster are talking to?”
Jones nodded. “The victim is Iris Belton. The ex, Ray Lebinick, knew something was up when she didn’t answer the door.”
“The ex had a key?”
“Not really an ex,” Jones said. “He and the victim never married. He has custody of their son. She sees her kid twice a week for dinner and one night over the weekend. The father pays for the apartment. It’s in his name. The victim works at a local restaurant and bar as a waitress.”
“Where was the boy?”
“The father said when she didn’t answer the door, he took his son back down to the car with his wife. They’re still in the parking lot. A uniform is with them, keeping the press away.”
Shane pulled out his notepad and ran his fingers across the leather before flipping it open. “Approximate time of death for Gregory was two weeks ago. Approximate time of death for Emily was a little over a week ago. Both suspected to be killed on a Thursday.”
“M.E. said, based on temperature of the body and lividity, it could have been a day or two. Didn’t say Thursday, but didn’t say it wasn’t Thursday. I’m thinking maybe Thursday means something,” Jones said. “I also think the killer doesn’t care when the bodies are found. Or where he kills. Emily was abducted. It appears Gregory and this one were killed where they lived.”
“Morrell said there was an incision in the stomach.”
Jones nodded again as he leaned against the counter. “M.E. says it’s like the other ones. Done by someone who knows what they’re doing, but wouldn’t speculate on any internal body parts missing.”
“Presentation of the body?”
“Naked. Face-up. Gagged and bound with duct tape and rope.”
“Wonder if there’s any significance to that.”
“Could be,” Jones said. “Clothes at this scene were folded and placed on the bed. Also, first time we have blood. The killer did try to clean it up, but there’s a fair amount soaked into the carpet.”
Shane jotted down a few notes in his pad, then nodded toward the bedroom. “All right,” Shane said. “If the killer is taking organs for the black market, he’s got to have help. Someone to transport the organ while he finishes his ritual.”
“Agreed,” Jones said.
Shane wandered through the family room toward the back bedroom. The apartment was sparsely furnished. One very old plaid sofa that had seen better days pushed against the back wall. One small coffee table on the side with a lamp. The other side of the room had a beat-up vinyl recliner in front of a sliding glass door. He snapped on a latex glove. “I take it this was locked when you arrived?” he asked Jones.
“Yep.”
Shane continued to the short hallway. The room to the right was a small bedroom with a single bed. Just a box spring and a mattress on the floor. An old wooden desk under the window. The door on the left was the bathroom. Not much he could see, but it looked clean. The entire apartment looked and felt clean. Cared for. The furnishings might be old, but he got the sense that Iris took pride in what she had.
The smell of disinfectant and death hit his nostrils the moment he stepped into the master bedroom. The body was next to the double bed, also just a box spring and mattress on the floor.
“I think this one fought.” Dr. Green, the M.E., held up one hand and pried it open a bit. “Small piece of cloth.”
First piece of real evidence they had. “Care to wager a guess as to what organ might be missing?”
“Don’t know that one is missing.” Dr. Green motioned to one of his team members. “Let’s get the body ready for transport.”
“Hey, Doc,” Shane said, “what about the markings? What do you make of those?”
The M.E. glanced up at Shane. “Looks like a butterfly to me. But something to consider with the other two cases is that the organs that were taken can be harvested for transplant.”
“How many organs can be donated?” Shane asked.
“Lungs, heart, liver, kidneys, pancreases, thymus, intestines, corneas. Those are the main ones. Other tissues, tendons, etc., can also be used.”
Shane stepped from the bedroom, making room for the M.E.’s team and stretcher. “Jones,” Shane barked, “let’s push the crowd back to the other side of the parking lot.”
“Already on it.”
Shane took out his cell phone and called his captain.
“Tell me something good,” Morrell answered.
“I think it’s safe to say we’ve got a serial killer.”
“That’s not good news.”
“We think this murder might have occurred on a Thursday, like the others. Won’t know for sure until we get the report back. The M.E. believes he has found some fibers.” Shane stood outside the door of the apartment, at the top of the stairs. Kara at his side. “I think we might want to dig deeper into the black market, while keeping an eye on Haughton.”
“The Feds with you?”
“Yeah,” Shane said.
“I think it’s time we gave a statement to the press.”
* * *
Shane wanted nothing to do with Kara’s press conference. He always hated them, even if he was standing there, listening. His captain had given him permission to sit this one out, though he did want to catch it on the news. He pulled his sedan into the two-car garage, next to his niece’s little car. He checked the time. Twenty minutes before the six o’clock news. Just enough time to ‘kick it’, as his niece would say, with his son, then watch the news.
When he pushed open the garage door that opened into the family room his nostrils were filled with his mother’s special vodka sauce. He was going to get fat having Theresa around to cook.
“Hey, Dad,” Kevin said. He sat on the sofa, Xbox controller in his hand, eyes focused on the television. “Thought you were going to be late.”
“I thought I’d be home a few hours ago, but something came up.” After Shane unclipped his weapon and stored it in the secure box in the closet, he sat down next to his son and ruffled his hair. “You need a haircut.”
“So do you.” Kevin glanced up from his game. “It’s over your collar and you need a shave.”
Shane rubbed his chin. “I forgot to do that this morning. How about we both get haircuts tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow is Sunday, and the barber isn’t open on Sunday,” Kevin said.
“What did you do today?”
“Went shopping for Grandma’s birthday present. Don’t forget. You know how she gets…”
“I already got my present,” Shane said. “What did you get her?”
“I’m not telling,” Kevin said. “It’s a surprise.”
“Hey, Uncle Shane.” Theresa was in the kitchen. She looked just like her mother. On the taller side, but not quite as tall as his sister. Theresa wasn’t shy, but she tended to be reserved. Quiet. Into her studies. She wanted to go to medical school and be a pediatrician. Anna had said her decision was based on all the problems Kevin had faced in his life. She wanted to make a difference in the world. “Dinner will be ready in forty-five minutes, give or take. Though I doubt this will be as good as Grandma’s. I can never get it just right. I swear she doesn’t give out all the ingredients just, so no one can make it as good as her.”
“Probably right.” Shane sat on the stool at the breakfast bar, watching Kevin fiddle with the Xbox remote. “Plan on six-thirty. I need to do something first. Do your chart?” Shane asked Kevin.
“I did. It
’s on the counter.”
Shane glanced between Kevin and Theresa, realizing that neither one of them was going to show it to him. He waited two full minutes before standing, then checked the notebook, noting that everything appeared fine. “I need to go make a few calls and take care of something.”
“That’s code for, ‘I’m going to watch the news and I don’t want you to watch it because it’s about a case you’re working on,’” Kevin said. “We’re supposed to bring articles to school, so we can discuss current events both locally and globally. I’ve got one due on Monday.” Kevin dropped the controller on the sofa and stood in front of his father. Hands on his hips. Feet shoulder-width apart. Much like Shane always stood. “I’m not a baby anymore. I’m double digits. And everyone in school is talking about the congressman’s daughter who was killed. I assume that’s your big case.”
“He’s right, Uncle Shane,” Theresa said, still stirring the sauce. “Better to know what’s going on in the world than to be ignorant.”
Shane thought about it for a moment. So many changes, but it was difficult to ignore how happy his son was at school, and in life. “All right,” Shane said. “But understand there are things I won’t be able to talk to you about, and it’s best you not tell the other kids at school that I could be working on anything they hear in the news. Got it?”
“Yep.” Kevin quickly snagged the remote and turned on the television. “What news station do you like?”
“ABC,” Shane said, still staring at his son. He looked so much like Janet. She’d been a good mother, the best, always attentive to Kevin’s needs. She’d been Shane’s rock for years and he’d just started to get used to the idea of living alone again when Kara walked back into his life, stirring things in him that were both thrilling and terrifying.
“Beer?” Theresa dangled one in front of him. “You look like you could use one.”
“Thanks.” He knew Janet would want him to get on with his life, but did that mean being with Kara again?
Kevin had sat back down on the sofa. He rifled through his backpack, pulling out a folder and a notebook.
Shane shook his head. “He’s growing up too fast.”
Theresa laughed. “My mother cried so hard when I left to come here, I thought she was going to change her mind and not let me bring my car.”
“Your mother’s always been emotional and dramatic. Being Mike’s twin, and less than two years younger than Dave, and the only girl, she got picked on a lot.”
“She says they were downright mean, but you not so bad.”
“That’s because I’m six years younger and she picked on me,” Shane said. “Turn it up, little man.”
“I really hate being called that,” Kevin said.
“Is that your high school sweetheart standing behind the captain?” Theresa asked.
Shane’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it quickly. It was Kara. “One and the same,” he said as he lifted the phone to his ear. “I take it the press conference isn’t live since I’m about to watch it?”
“Ended about fifteen minutes ago,” she said. “Can we talk tonight?”
“Come on over. My niece made my mom’s sauce.”
“I’ll be there soon.”
Shane ended the call and sat on the sofa, looping his arm around his son. “Theresa, I hope you have enough food for one more. Kara is joining us.”
“I’m just like Grandma. I only know how to cook for an army,” she said.
“That FBI agent on TV was your girlfriend once?” Kevin pressed the volume button a few more times as Kara made her way to the podium to represent the FBI’s interest in this investigation. “She looks familiar. Aren’t there pictures of her at Grandma’s?”
“I dated her before I met mom,” Shane said. “I took her to my senior prom and she used to babysit a couple of your cousins.”
“Are you---”
“Shhh,” Shane said. “After this is over.”
“We’re working with the Rochester Police Department in a joint task force,” Kara said, her hands gripped the podium, eyes focused right at the cameras. The way she commanded the room was impressive. Shane was almost disappointed he’d missed it live.
“We have three victims we believe have all been killed by the same person.”
Lights snapped, and a few reporters shouted out questions. A very poised Kara held up her hand. “All I can tell you right now is that we’re talking with a few persons of interest. If anyone has any information they believe is pertinent to these murders, please call the number at the bottom of your screen. Thank you.” She turned, and walked away gracefully, taking her place next to the Chief of Police as the reporter for the station recapped what they understood about the murders.
Then the news cut to commercial.
“Are you working with her?” Kevin asked.
Shane checked his phone. Kara had sent a text that she was ten minutes out. “I am,” Shane said.
“And she’s coming here?”
Shane nodded.
“That is so cool!” Kevin jumped off the sofa, but then stopped suddenly and turned to face Shane. “I don’t get to tell the kids at school I met her, do I?”
Shane shook his head. “Maybe when this is all over I can talk her into coming to your school. Then you can tell them you met her way before they did.”
“Okay,” Kevin said. “I’ll set another plate!”
“Aren’t you supposed to watch all the news?” Shane asked.
“Oh. Yeah. We’ve got to write a paragraph about the stories. And then a paragraph about what we thought and felt. I could do it tomorrow, but we’re going to Grandma’s for the day.”
“Better sit here then.” Shane patted the sofa. “You need help, Theresa?”
“Nope. You’re paying me the big bucks to cook, clean, and take care of my favorite little cousin.”
“And I didn’t even get the family discount.” Shane glanced at his son’s homework paper, forcing himself not to check his forehead, a habit he needed to break. The doctor had been right. School was good for him. Theresa was good for him.
And now he was going to meet Kara.
Would that be good for his son?
* * *
Shane was a tad startled at how well dinner had gone. Kevin and Kara got along like they’d known each other their entire lives. There didn’t seem to be any awkward silences, and Kara more than enjoyed the magic show Kevin had put on. All in all, it had been a good evening. But now that Kevin was in bed, and Theresa was studying, he had a moment to be alone with Kara.
He rubbed his sweaty palms like a boy on his first date. “Hey,” he said as he turned the corner from the staircase to the living room. He wasn’t much of a decorator, and when he bought this place he’d wanted a fresh start. It was too hard to have so many constant reminders of Janet. He’d kept all the things that really meant something to her and their son; otherwise, new digs, new furniture.
Kara sat on the brown leather sofa across from the fireplace, looking out the front window. His breath hitched. Her dark hair shone in the soft light from the lamp next to her. In a million years, he never thought he’d lay eyes on her again, much less see her sitting in his living room. “What did you want to talk about?” He settled in on the other side of the sofa, picking up the remote to the fireplace. It had felt weird to have a gas fireplace at first, but he’d gotten used to it. The flames crackled to life as they set off a soft fiery glow.
“A couple of things.” Kara tucked her one foot under her butt and faced him. “Business first?”
Shane nodded.
“You okay with being the lead detective on an official joint task force?”
“I am,” Shane said. “I like the team we’ve assembled so far. I also like the way we’ve been working. I don’t want that to change.”
“I’m not going to leave you hanging.”
“Professionally,” Shane said. “I believe that.”
Kara leaned over, looking up the stairs. “Y
ou sure you want to talk about the case here? Maybe we should step outside.”
“It’s too cold,” Shane said. “Besides, if he’s not sound asleep from having a long day, he’s under his blanket reading. And he knows that if I bring work home, unless he’s on fire, he’s to stay in his room.”
“You don’t think he’s at the top of the stairs? Listening?”
“He’s not the nosey type.” Shane shook his head. “Besides, I’d hear him. The floorboards between his room and the stairs creak. Unless the television is on he’s not getting passed that, and really, he gets it that sometimes work comes home. When Jones is here, he’ll call from the top of the stairs before coming down.”
Kara tucked her hair behind her ears. It was something she did when she was either excited or nervous. She didn’t look like she was either. “We did a widespread search on the organ black market. We’ve got four large rings, as I told you, but the most interesting thing was that our analyst found a case from the early nineties where a man in Louisiana was collecting organs for some ritual to bring back the dead. He took them from people he referred to as witches. Non-believers to be sacrificed in the name of his god to cure the sick.”
“I think that was a case I studied in school. It made national news.” Shane’s mind had splintered in all sorts of different directions once he realized the killer was collecting organs.
Shane leaned back on the sofa and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. He mentally went over every detail stored in his memory about each of the cases. They weren’t related. They didn’t travel in the same circles. Didn’t even live in the same area. Nothing added up. “Was Iris Catholic?” Shane knew the Cleary’s were Catholic. So was Gregory, but according to his family and friends he didn’t attend church at all. He didn’t have much to go on with Iris. The second team of detectives was still interviewing family and friends. Those reports would be on his desk in the morning.
“No. Jewish actually.” Kara pulled out her tablet and fired it up before handing it to Shane. “I sent this to you, but take a look now.”