by Gary Sapp
companies, and calling Denise’s family.”
“I understand.” She patted his hand and that drew a sneer from Bonnie. I told you that you were in bed with them Roosters…he could almost hear her thinking aloud. “I’m sure that our boss understands too. He apologizes for missing this. He’s trying to tie up some loose ends of his own as well. He told me to take all of the time that you need.”
Chris knew that his superior would have meant just that under normal operations and caseloads. The last 19 days hadn’t qualified for anything near normal however. “I appreciate the sentiment.” He smiled because he thought that his partner needed to see him smile. “I’m okay, Tabitha, really. Denise had been my ex-wife for a couple of years now. We weren’t in love anymore. That part of our relationship had deteriorated a long time ago. I’m okay.” He lowered his voice and beckoned Blue closer. “Talk to me about our cases.”
She relaxed a bit…well, at least as much as Tabitha Blue ever relaxed. Chris knew that he was retreating into a far more familiar territory with this line of questioning. “A fifth and sixth child had been reported missing in the past 24 hours.”
“Damn.”
“We found another staged scene. You’re doctor friend helped me investigate it and pick it apart.”
Chris lowered his voice any further as he saw that Bonnie was still looking on. “Tell me about it.”
Special Agent Tabitha Blue told him that Keaton or whoever had placed another action figure, or doll if you may, in a tightly fitted area about 20 blocks from where we found the first one. Most of what Angel said sounded like the psycho gibberish that she shared with them all at the other crime scenes: The action figure was Black, was supposed to represent a minor in his pre-teens and definitely male. He had slash marks around his throat and a real bullet lodged in his head as well.
“What is different from the other four previous scenes,” Blue added smoothly, “Is that this doll was turned on his hands and knees.”
“In a sexual sense I know that could be looked at two ways.”
“That’s what Doctor Hicks-Dupree said as well. She also said that it could be looked at from a non-sexual context as a missionary stance. Anyway, I was there when she told Sheridan, Deputy Director Rice and some other higher ups that these boys were only days from being molested.”
Chris watched his partner hesitate…her monologue paused while she figured something else out. He asked her: “Is there something else, Tabitha?”
“This doll had black marker marks all over his naked torso, and the theory made the rounds that the markings represented these children being burned.”
“Angel concluded this as well?”
Blue glanced away. “Actually, I did, Chris. But the doctor seconded my opinion and presented it as such to our superiors.” She shifted her weight, just as uncomfortable talking about her person as she was about her manner of appearance today. “Angel’s conclusion is that this phase of abductions and kidnappings is drawing to a close and like we said…a more physical element is coming.”
“I believe I guess the rest,” Chris added. “The flame markings on this last doll’s torso are a representation of these children being offered to Serena Tennyson’s Dragon…them dying in a fiery manner if Keaton is disturbed in any way.
Blue nodded and had to push her thin hair out of her eyes. Chris could see a clear image of children screaming…and…dying, but he did not know whether the image was from days past or night still to come.
I abandoned the first captives…but I swear that I won’t rest until these little boys are found.
Blue looked as if there were still more for her to reveal. He patted her on one of her skinny shoulders and urged her to continue.
“The doctor believes that something has changed.”
“How so?”
“This last scene looked sloppy and lacked the care and attention to detail this time around. She hypothesized that either this was an entirely different person who put this together or this time the person from the other scenes was extremely rushed or stressed.”
Before Chris could respond intelligently, he saw another woman greet his high school chum and walk through his front door. He was slightly embarrassed because he couldn’t shut his mouth. He wasn’t the only one who watched the woman make her way towards where he was standing. She was wearing a short but tastefully cut black dress with pearls around her neck. She wore her hair long and straight. She donned enough eye shadow to highlight the darkness in her brown eyes. There were a pair of diamond stud earrings in each ear and her watch gleamed in the morning sunlight shining through Chris’ windows.
Roxanne Sanchez hugged Chris tightly before she said her hello.
He gathered himself the best he could…and introduced this splendid looking woman to his partner. They greeted one another with a professional handshake.
Blue must have felt the heat between his partner and the latest entry in an overly crowded room. “I should go. I’ll see you later, Chris. Turn you phone on.”
“I will.” He said to Blue yet never took his eyes off of Roxanne. At this moment no one else existed in this room. Only one other woman had ever garnered his undivided attention like this before. And it wasn’t his ex-wife who they were going to bury a short time from now. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“If I’m making you uncomfortable—“
“No, of course not, Roxanne,” Chris grabbed her hand almost as a reflex. He then gave it a squeezed. “I want you to stay. I need you to stay; I just thought after we’d said our goodbyes on the phone the other night after you informed me of Erica’s discovery that I might not see you again.”
“Why would you think such a thing?”
“You had concluded your investigation.” He lowered his voice again. “You found Erica.”
Roxanne looked at her shoes. “I felt the need to pay my respects to Denise. “She lifted her chin. Her eyes were so dark yet so amazing. It was like he was seeing them…seeing her for the very first time. “I knew your ex-wife only for a short time, but I respected her…liked her even. Will you be burying both of them today?”
“Yea,” Chris gave his rapidly filling up house a once over. “I tried to think of her family, you know, having to take off from work twice in a very short time frame. Denise was born and spent all of her youth in Tennessee. Most of these folks had to make anywhere from a four to six hour drive here into Atlanta to attend their funerals.”
“Sure, that was very thoughtful of you.”
“Look, Roxanne,” Chris finally realized he was still holding on to her hand. He let it go, but she only smiled and held his instead. “I never fully thanked you for finding Erica for us. You honored Denise.”
“No…don’t thank me, Chris.” Roxanne’s eyes lost some of its brilliance. She was a professional investigator again…hard…and unrelenting. “I did my job. I gave my word to the two of you to bring Erica home again.” She took a full step towards him and whispered in his ear so that no one else would hear her words. “I am still doing my job, Chris. Erica’s killer has yet to be apprehended. And have the APD said anything to you about whether Denise was alone when she jumped out of her window?”
It was a curious question…but one that he had asked himself actually. He passed on what the APD told him: They were investigating any and all angles of what surrounded the final hours and minutes before Denise Prince’s death. They were certain that it was a suicide. But someone had to drive Denise downstate when she found Chris and Angel alone in that hotel room. Chris was still trying to recover from her latest verbal assault and emotional outbreak when he finally peered out of his door—to see only the taillights of the car she’d ridden in speeding off in a pile of dust and burned rubber.
Chris thanked Roxanne again and they finally let go of each other’s hand. He also thanked her a second time for coming to his home and paying her respects.
“You don’t get it do you?” She folded her arms. “I had to come here today. I had to see for
myself if you were okay.” She turned her head ever slightly to the left away from most of the crowd…Chris following her gaze to the corner of his dining room that approached his bedroom. He had a sketch of Hoshi Givens sitting at nearly an impossible angle for anyone standing where Roxanne stood to see it. “What a lovely portrait,” She said and he had to follow her over to where it was. Roxanne ran her manicured fingernail underneath Hoshi’s even darker eyes and around the curve of her thin lips. “There is no doubt she was a beautiful woman…she’s an American but of what descent?”
“Hoshi’s father was from Singapore and her mother was from Malaysia.”
“The texture of the canvas is very smooth. The background colors the artist chose blend in especially well with her skin tone.” She took her eye off of the drawing long enough to look into his eyes. “You’re the artist aren’t you, Chris?”
Chris shifted his weight. He was as uncomfortable with this area of conversation as Tabitha Blue had been on social levels minutes ago. “She was…” He tried and failed to keep emotion out of his response. Damn, does the pain of losing you ever go away, Hoshi? Roxanne, you should meet Hoshi Givens. She died in an accident many years ago soon after the two of us became engaged.”
Accident was a slight proclamation of what truly happened to his first true love.
Hoshi had wrapped her Audi around a poll 30 minutes after a