Voice of the Spirit (A Trinity of Death Romantic Suspense Series Book 1)

by Raine, Charlotte

  “I’d be pretty impressed if he managed to get a wooden cross into a prison cell,” she says. “But I was wondering…are we also still thinking that Mary was taken because she was a witness? That seems pretty reckless of this killer to not ensure there weren’t any witnesses before he brought the body into the church. Her bandmates and bodyguard said they left her alone in the pastor’s office, so was the killer dragging the body along with him when he ran into Mary, so he had to take her?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe she’s broken one of the Ten Commandments.”

  “But which one?” Lauren muses. “I don’t know many pop stars that have stayed virgins before marriage and that is considered adultery by some since it wouldn’t be her husband…”

  “But the motive doesn’t matter right now,” I say. “We’re running out of time to find her. A lot of the churches have burned their idols, but I expect at least a couple of them have kept an idol or two and I’m sure this killer knows it. This was never meant to be a possible deadline to meet. He plans to kill Mary and shove it in our faces.”

  “There are about ten miles between the church and the cemetery. Maybe the killer lives between those two places.”

  “You realize how many people live between those two places, and it’s still a shot in the dark?”

  “I don’t hear you coming up with any better ideas,” she scowls. I take a sip from my coffee as she stares down at my notes. “Why do you think he would start at the fifth commandment, though? I would think it would be easiest to begin with a nonbeliever, which would be the first commandment.”

  “Maybe he did,” I say. “We just don’t know about it.”

  “I’m fairly certain that even if the murder happened on the other side of the world, we would have heard about a killer crucifying people,” she says.

  “Maybe they weren’t crucified. There could have been other religious signs around people’s murders.” I turn to Romano and call out, “Romano, didn’t you work on a stoning a few months ago?”

  He nods. “Yeah, it was weird. We never managed to close the case. It didn’t help that everyone around him was into witchcraft and swore that somebody had cursed him…or something. I don’t know. They were a bunch of freaks. I tried to solve the case without them, but they kept on calling me, telling me about the dreams they had that they thought symbolized something. One even gave me oils and teas to help clear my mind so I could see beyond the veil and talk to the victim or some shit like that. I would rather work a drive-by shooting. At least I could tolerate gang members for more than two minutes.”

  His phone rings and he picks it up.

  I glance over at Lauren. “Sounds Biblical to me.”

  “I remember seeing those photographs. They were even more brutal than these crucifixions,” she says. “Scary to think this guy has been out there longer than we thought.”

  “Hey, guys!” Romano stands up as he puts his cell phone down. “We just got a call from a woman saying that Mary is chained to a heater pipe in a foreclosed home on Lewis Street.”

  “That sounds more fake than the tipster who told us that she was hidden in a secret compartment in the church.”

  “Yeah, except this tipster told me the exact same clothes Mary was wearing when she disappeared, right down to the silver cross necklace she had, with her initials on the back.”

  “We never released that info,” Lauren says.

  “Exactly.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lauren

  The foreclosed house was once painted yellow, but the color has faded so much that it’s more of a cream color now. The lawn in front of it is overgrown and the windows are boarded up. It’s a depressing sight, but as Tobias and two more officers stand beside me, I know that this could quickly turn much better or mind-numbingly worse.

  “I’ll take lead,” Tobias says, stepping in front of all of us and pulling out his gun. “Klepaski and Schroeder, go to the back.”

  The two of them nod before jogging around the house.

  “You ready? Is your leg feeling okay?” he asks.

  I nod, and he briefly touches my shoulder. He’s the concerned boyfriend for one more second before it’s masked by determination. He sprints toward the door and bangs his fist against it.

  “Police! Come out with your hands up!” he shouts as he bursts through the door. I follow him, keeping my eyes open for any movement. We keep our guns raised as we get our first impression of the house. It looks like any other foreclosed house—empty, relatively clean, with the distinct smell of wet, rotting wood. We fan out, checking out the rest of the house. I slip into the bathroom as Tobias continues to survey the place. I check the faucet and the toilet. Neither work. If the kidnapper was keeping Mary here, they must have gone somewhere else for water.

  Tobias circles back around to me.

  “There’s a basement,” he says. “Do you want to come check it out with me?”

  “You always take me to the best places,” I tease.

  He shakes his head, but he’s smiling. He leads me to a door that has a dent in the center of it, wood splintering out of it still.

  “You think the kidnapper did that?” I ask.

  “No,” he says. “I think if it was recent, the paint would have fallen off the splintered parts, but it’s still on there.”

  “Do you think we’re going to find Mary down here?”

  He takes a deep breath. “I think…I should go down first.”

  “Are we really going to have to continue to do this whole chivalry thing?”

  “It’s not chivalry. It’s the fact that my body is wider than yours, so I’ll be a better human shield than you’ll be and it’s best that at least one of us survives if we’re ambushed.”

  “Thanks for that image,” I say.

  He steps in front of me and begins to walk down the steps. I follow.

  As expected, the lights don’t work for the basement, so I pull my flashlight out of my jacket pocket and turn it on. It still barely lights up the basement. As we descend the stairs, every step creaks and I have the constant feeling that my whole body is tipping forward. Tobias is ahead of me, but he keeps one arm outstretched behind him—ready to catch me if I fall, or shove me backward if someone attacks.

  Once we reach the bottom of the stairs, I sweep the flashlight back and forth, trying to see what’s down here.

  “Mary Fitzgerald?” I call out. “Mary Fitzgerald, are you in here?”

  At first, there’s nothing, but then I hear a very soft sound that reminds me of a tree branch tapping against a house during a storm. I hold my breath waiting to see if I hear it again. Nothing.

  “It’s coming from the other side of the basement,” Tobias says, rushing past me. I try to keep up, so he has some light to guide him, but he’s past where my light can reach because of a long wall of shelves that divides the space. My breath catches in my throat until I turn around the corner. And there’s Mary.

  Just as the tipster said, her hands are cuffed around the heater pipe, but she also has a strip of cloth stuffed in her mouth and her face is shiny with sweat and tears. Her hair looks matted with grease and one of the sleeves on her shirt is torn off. She tries to get to her feet, but the high heels of her red leather boots cause her to trip, nearly twisting her ankle.

  I get onto my knees beside her and pull the gag out of her mouth. Tobias grabs my flashlight.

  “I’m going to go look for the kidnapper,” he mumbles. “Don’t move.”

  He walks away. The glow of the flashlight is the only thing I can see when he moves to the other side of the basement.

  Mary takes a deep breath, bringing my attention right back to her.

  “Thank God,” she rasps, fresh tears in her eyes. “I thought I was going to die. I thought he had left me here to die.”

  “You’re not going to die. Not today,” I say. “Hopefully, not any time soon.”

  I dig my handcuff key out of my pocket—it’s lucky most handcuff keys are univers
al—and unlock her from the heater pipe. She rubs her wrists, relief flooding her face.

  “Thank you. Thank you so much.” She throws her arms around me, embracing me with a grip tighter than I would expect from a girl her size and someone who had been chained down here for an unknown amount of time. “You just saved my life.”

  “Of course,” I murmur. “We should call you an ambulance to make sure you’re okay.”

  “Where did your kidnapper go?” Tobias asks, returning back to my side. “Who is he?”

  “I-I don’t know where he is. It’s this guy who’s hated me forever…we need to get out of here before he comes back. Please. I can’t take him taunting me any longer. We need to go.”

  “Who is he?” Tobias repeats.

  Her eyes widen and she almost seems to stop breathing. “His name is Jackson Belamonte.”

  * * *

  “Okay, maybe Jackson faked his death,” Tobias suggests. “You didn’t actually see him die. The doctor just told you that. Maybe the doctor is in on it.”

  “I watched his monitor as he flatlined, and everyone came rushing in. I pretty much watched him die. You want to turn this into one of his conspiracy theories?”

  “I don’t have anything else to go on because you wouldn’t let me question her first!”

  I gesture to Mary’s hospital room as we wait in the hallway. “As soon as the doctor says she’s okay, we can ask her more questions. You can’t wait the few hours it takes to get her to the hospital and have her checked out?”

  “Not if there’s a possibility that Jackson faked his death and one of these doctors or nurses is in on it.”

  He glances down the hallway, his eyes filled with suspicion.

  “You’re just beginning to sound like Jackson. Next you’re going to say the government is involved,” I say.

  Dr. Pritam steps out of Mary’s room, a big smile on his face. “She’s doing very well for missing so long,” he says. “She was a little dehydrated, but otherwise, her health is good.”

  “Was a rape kit performed?” I ask.

  “She declined it,” he says. “She said there wasn’t any sexual contact with the kidnapper. If you wish to question her, you can now.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Pritam,” I say. He nods, passing by us to go to another room.

  “I can’t trust any of them anymore,” Tobias mutters as he follows me into Mary’s room. Mary looks much better now as she lies in the hospital bed—her face is clean, her hair is smooth, and she appears to be much more relaxed. I would even consider her to be happy if I hadn’t known what she had gone through.

  “Hi, Mary,” I say.

  She smiles. “Hi. You’re the two policemen who saved me, right? My memory is a little blurry,” she says.

  I nod, pulling up a chair to sit beside her. “We were so happy to find you. You had a lot of people worried.”

  “I know. I was so stupid. I shouldn’t have gone off on my own, but prayer feels so much more powerful when nobody is watching,” she says. “Which must be true because God answered my prayers by having the two of you save me. I had been praying nonstop for the last couple of days and God came through. He always does.”

  “It’s less about God and more about someone calling us with a tip,” Tobias says.

  Mary scrunches up her nose. “Really? Someone called you guys?” she asks. “I think a woman may have heard me screaming for help. I thought it was a dream, but if somebody did call the police…”

  “It was a woman,” Tobias confirms.

  “Well, I’m so grateful,” Mary says.

  “Mary…” I say, taking her hand. It’s much colder than I expect. “I know this may be hard to talk about, but when we found you, you told us who your kidnapper was.”

  “I do remember that,” she says.

  “So, you remember saying it was Jackson Belamonte?” I ask.

  “Yes.” she says. “Why? Did you find him?”

  “Mary, Jackson…he died a few days ago,” I say. “Somebody poisoned him.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes drift off as if she’s remembering something, but when she looks back at me, her expression is unreadable. “That would explain why he hasn’t been back to the house in the last couple of days.”

  “So, he was the one who kidnapped you, but you haven’t seen him in the last couple of days?” I ask.

  “Yes,” she says. “Why? Is there something wrong?”

  “No, no,” I say. Tobias and I exchange a look. His eyes are full of confusion while I’m just trying to grasp what on earth happened. His phone vibrates and he glances down at it. I turn back to Mary. “I’m just trying to figure out the timeline for everything.”

  Tobias leans over to whisper in my ear. “I just got a text from Romano. The phone that called the tip line was a burner. We won’t be able to figure out who it was.”

  “Right,” I whisper. “But that doesn’t make sense. Why would a good Samaritan call with a burner phone?”

  “Maybe it wasn’t a good Samaritan,” he mutters. “Maybe it was an accomplice and they didn’t like what the kidnapper was doing anymore, so they called the police.”

  I glance back at Mary. I’m sure she heard a word or two of our conversation, but she doesn’t seem bothered by it.

  “Uh, Mary, did Jackson have an accomplice?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “No. I mean, not that I know of. You know, he has…I’m sorry, I mean, he had a blog which helped him gather a following against me, so he could have had an accomplice, but I…I never saw anybody else.”

  Tobias’ brow furrows as he circles back around the room. He continues to pace and I can sense his brain working on overdrive to figure everything out.

  I lean closer to Mary. “Mary, can you tell us everything that happened since you arrived at Pious Church that morning?”

  “Um, sure,” she says. “I arrived at the church. I talked to the pastor, and he was the only one there that wasn’t part of my crew. I had my make-up and hair done in the pastor’s office. I came out to greet some of the people who had come to see me, and then I performed a few songs. I talked about God in between the songs…uh, then I went to the pastor’s office to pray alone. While I was there, Jackson snuck into the room. He threatened me with a knife, told me to follow him to his car, so I did—”

  “What kind of car was it?” Tobias asks. “I never noticed a car outside of Jackson’s apartment and if we find the right car, we could find your DNA in it, which might help close this case.”

  “Um…I don’t remember. It was dark,” she says. “Isn’t my testimony enough to close the case?”

  “It was dark?” I ask. “But your performance ended during the day. We showed up there about one in the afternoon.”

  “Oh, sorry,” she says. “It wasn’t dark. My memory is just…off. He hit me a few times, it must have messed with my memory.”

  “I’m sorry about that,” I say. “Did you ever see a dead body?”

  “A dead body?” she blurts. “Whose? Do you mean Jackson’s dead body? I told you I didn’t know he was dead.”

  “No, no,” I say. “This was another man. Your kidnapper, or at least, we think it was your kidnapper, left a body nailed to a cross in the pastor’s office. You never saw it?”

  She shakes her head, her face pale and her eyes wide. “No. He forced me into his trunk, so maybe sometime after that, he put the body there. I don’t know. I’ve really just tried to block it all out.”

  I nod. “I understand. What you went through was incredibly traumatic. I’m very sorry. We’ll let you get some rest now.”

  Mary’s father, Captain Fitzgerald, barrels into the room. “Mary, sweetheart,” he says, tears in his eyes.

  I stand up, letting go of her hand, so he can take my seat next to her.

  “Thank you, detectives,” he says, shaking each of our hands. “Thank you for bringing my girl home.”

  Tobias nods, looking awkward. “Of course. Just doing our duty.”

  “We’
ll let you two have some time together,” I say, leading the way out of Mary’s room. Tobias follows closely behind me as we walk out.

  “She was acting weird,” Tobias mutters.

  “She could be so emotionally traumatized that her memory has been compromised,” I say.

  “You really think that?” he asks.

  “I think it’s possible,” I say. “But my gut is screaming that something is wrong here. Maybe she’s protecting the real kidnapper.”

  “I have faith in your gut,” he says.

  “You have faith?” I tease, smiling.

  He chuckles. “Come on, don’t use that against me. Besides, it’s not really faith when I’ve seen how good your instincts are.”

  “Thank you,” I say.

  He wraps his arm around my waist, his lips brushing against my cheek. It sends waves of heat through my body, filling me with new faith as well.

  Chapter Twenty

  Tobias

  “Captain, she said it was dark when she was taken—who would forget what it looked like the last time they were free?” I demand, standing in front of Captain Mattinson’s desk as he sits, twirling a pen between his fingers. Lauren stands off to the side, as if she didn’t really want a part in this conversation. “She’s making up parts of her story and I want to know why. We need to know why. I don’t think Jackson was her kidnapper. She’s lying for somebody else.”

  “Stockholm syndrome?” Lauren asks. “She could have bonded with her captor.”

  “She could just be traumatized,” Mattinson says, setting the pen down on his desk. “Maybe at some time she had a concussion. Are you seriously going to start pointing fingers at the victim, Tobias?”

  “I’m not pointing fingers, I’m making sure our investigation is thorough,” I tell him. “Jackson passed away two days ago…it’s just not logical that he was her kidnapper. She has to be covering up for someone else.”