Guilty Photographs

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Guilty Photographs Page 17

by S I Taylor


  Slowly the door opened. She didn’t see anyone but she knew he was there.

  The adrenaline she felt earlier was replaced with the loud thumping of her heart. Suddenly, she wanted to be that innocent eight-year-old at her birthday party waiting for her parents to film her opening her gifts.

  She entered the warm room, which had a faint scent of the hospital room she had released him from. Barbara faced the door to give her some time to recollect herself and closed the door.

  Barbara turned to her right and saw him sitting with a black-and-white-checkered blanket on his lap. A weak smile appeared across his pale, aged skin.

  “Good evening, Father.”

  Chapter 17

  Coolidge and McKinley parked their vehicle a few blocks away and walked toward the warehouse. The night seemed quiet and no one was around.

  “Seems odd that there isn’t at least someone out on their porch or any sort of noise you tend to hear in any neighborhood,” McKinley said.

  “Yeah, I agree, but it’s pretty late considering that it’s a weekday and people are probably getting rest for work tomorrow,” Coolidge said.

  “Maybe, but this is still too quiet,” he said, looking around for anyone or anything within sight.

  They stood on the sidewalk for a few minutes and watched the surveillance camera. They walked slowly toward it to see when exactly the camera picked up any activity and from what proximity. They wanted to record the exact moment and know the precise distance that the motion-sensitive light would turn on and the camera would record.

  Once they were satisfied with the outcome, they marked the ground with a red spray and measured the distance and waited until the light turned off and recorded the length of time it took for that to occur.

  They decided to split up to divide the work and cover more ground.

  “Coolidge, go to the right of the building and I’ll look to the left. If you see something let me know.”

  “How do you want me to contact you? With a bird call, whistle, text you, what?” she said sarcastically.

  “Really, just let me know,” he said as he shook his head.

  They removed their Glocks from their holster and parted ways.

  The grass was extremely high, filled with weeds, discarded trash, containers with rotten food, and scattered old clothing items. It looked like people just threw their garbage over the fence or it got washed up against the buildings.

  He heard Coolidge a few minutes later shout his name. “Hey, McKinley! I found something.”

  McKinley turned his attention to the voice and rushed to Coolidge, grateful that he didn’t have to go through that pile of discarded unknown objects.

  When he got next to her, she was pointing at another entrance point.

  “This must be the other entrance that the fifth guy entered from,” she said.

  “Yeah, it’s dark, secluded, and hidden.”

  “The bad part is that we have to crawl to get inside. Whoever entered through here has to be a hundred and ninety pounds or less,” she said.

  McKinley surveyed the hole and looked at himself.

  “I might not be able to fit through there,” he told her.

  “Why? Because you think you weigh more than a hundred and ninety pounds? Because you don’t seem to weigh more than that. Or is it that you don’t want to get dirty?” Coolidge said. She holstered her Glock.

  “I’m actually two hundred and fifteen pounds of lean muscle and I don’t want to get stuck in there. I know my limits,” he said, annoyed that she would insinuate that his hard work at the gym was not evident.

  “Ugh, whatever. I guess I have to do the dirty job while you stand out here and look pretty.”

  “Correction, I’m keeping a lookout, now hurry up.”

  She turned to McKinley. “I knew the sheriff was doing a crappy job at investigating. We should’ve looked further. We should’ve looked outside too.”

  “Don’t do this. Don’t blame things on anyone. We use this as a learning experience and move on.”

  Coolidge sighed. “I suppose you’re right.”

  He looked at her and he could see a slight smile forming. He turned toward the small opening with a large piece of plywood over it. McKinley grunted as he moved it and slid it across the tall grass. Coolidge got on her hands and knees, crawling and dragging herself through the small tunnel-like hole toward the other side.

  “Eww, this is so disgusting,” she said.

  “I thought you liked this sort of thing,” McKinley teased as he heard her voice trail through the opening.

  “Yes, I know what I said, but this is not what I meant by it,” she said. “It’s so dark and humid in here.”

  “Okay, so turn your flashlight on so you can get a better look,” McKinley suggested.

  “I know. Give me a chance to assess the area before I turn on the brightness in here.”

  “Fine.”

  “Wow, you’ve got to see this,” she said.

  “Okay, well, find an entrance big enough for me to fit so I can see as well.”

  “Wait, I have to see where this door leads.”

  He stood outside for what seemed to be an hour when in fact it was merely seconds, but he was anxious to see what Coolidge saw as well. She returned moments later from an entrance that was obscured in the back.

  Coolidge led him through a passageway that was only accessible to people who knew about the ins and outs of the warehouse, or it was used for employees only. Either way it was not an entrance that was easily visible from the outside.

  When McKinley entered the warehouse and into the compartment that Coolidge had found, he couldn’t believe what he saw.

  “Coolidge, call Deputy Harry. We’re going to need backup.”

  Chapter 18

  “Princess, I haven’t seen you since you got this place for me almost a year ago. I thought you had forgotten about your old father.”

  He looked at Barbara but she couldn’t meet his eyes.

  “I haven’t forgotten about you since you left, Dad.”

  He diverted his attention to his hands on his lap and then rolled himself down the narrow hall to the living room. He stopped next to the sofa in front of the TV, which he turned off.

  “I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean for that to come out so harsh.”

  “No, I deserve that. I taught you to be honest and speak your mind no matter how harsh the truth may be.”

  Barbara walked toward her father and sat across from him on the stiff blue couch.

  “Dad, I came because I wanted to see you but also because I want to know the truth,” she said, looking at him intently.

  “Fair enough. I guess I should tell you my half.” He fiddled with the remote on his lap and was silent for a few seconds, probably trying to see where he could best start with his side.

  “Princess, I loved your mother very much and I still do but our relationship was toxic. We argued every day we saw each other.” He paused. “We were both unhappy.”

  “I didn’t see that, Dad.” Her voice was soft with a hint of betrayal behind her words.

  “You didn’t want to see it, Princess. I was becoming violent and your mother’s drinking was becoming excessive. We were hurting ourselves but primarily you.”

  “I wanted you there with me, Dad. I didn’t hear from you until recently when Mom died.”

  “Princess, I came to see you every day. Your mother wouldn’t let me inside.” He leaned forward and grabbed a shoe box from the coffee table and handed it to Barbara.

  “Open it,” he said softly.

  She placed the box on her lap and after a few seconds carefully removed the lid, afraid of what she might find inside.

  “I wrote to you on your birthday every year. But they all got sent back. But that didn’t stop me from writing.”

  Barbara sorted through the letters and took one from June 13, 1996, the year after he left, and as she read it her eyes watered, but she didn’t shed a tear. “Why didn’t Mom
give me these letters?” She continued to look through the box to see photographs of her as a little girl in her princess dress as her dad carried her and her mother stood next to her father holding hands. She remembered Sam’s mother taking that picture that day.

  “That’s something that I can’t answer but I wanted you to know that I never stopped thinking about you. I didn’t leave because I didn’t care, I left because I love you. That was the worst decision I made in my life and that day haunts me every day, especially on your birthday. Because instead of you celebrating it with your friends, I left that day.” Tears were falling down his cheeks and he took the corner of the blanket to wipe them away.

  “I stayed up all night sitting on the living room couch. I waited for you so that we could open gifts together like we did every year. I hated my birthdays after that day. I hated wearing dresses or anything that reminded me of being your princess.” She felt a lump form in her throat and her mouth suddenly felt dry.

  “I’m sorry.” He hesitated, then said, “Princess, I wish I were able to take you with me but your mother wouldn’t allow that. She was the one with a stable place for you at the time and I promised to come back for you but it took me a long time to get back on my feet and by then I knew it was too late. You were already in high school.”

  “I don’t know what to say, Dad. I resented Mom for many years until I finally realized that you were never coming back and then my hopeful wishing faded with each passing year.”

  “Princess, I know this may be too much to ask from you but I want us to start over. I want you to give us a chance to mend our emotions. If that’s okay with you, Princess.”

  His voice was shaky but his eyes were hopeful.

  Barbara nodded silently and without any words kneeled beside her father and laid her head on his lap and he stroked her hair. She didn’t have her mother, but she had her father and holding on to a useless grudge was eating at her.

  “Thank you, Princess. You mean so much to me and I will treasure you until my last breath.”

  “Dad, just hold me, please.”

  She slid out of the cab and forced herself to come to terms with returning to her basement. She was anticipating the day when she no longer had to think of the basement as her home. She stood outside the house, contemplating if she should enter.

  From the outside, the house was dark, as she’d made sure to come back late. She didn’t want to run into him, and she didn’t want to be bothered since she’d seen him lurking around earlier when Nixon dropped her off.

  She entered the house as quietly as possible and closed the door behind her. The whiff of the A/C inside chilled her skin as she left the warmth of the night air outside. She tiptoed through the kitchen, trying not to make a sound as she moved to get to the basement.

  She paused as she heard a soft tune playing and she hoped that the player had been left on accidentally.

  “Did you enjoy your evening?” a voice said in the dark.

  However, her silent wishing was in vain.

  She turned her attention toward the voice on the far end of the living room. The moonlight cast a shadow on a figure sitting in the dark. It was Mr. Riley, sitting in his leather recliner next to the window, holding an object in his right hand which he moved toward his thirsty lips.

  “That’s none of your business what I do or whom I’m with!” she said.

  She realized that he must have been waiting all night for her. The sweet melody of smooth jazz was a sharp contrast to the heated ambience in the living room.

  “I don’t care about any of that. I wanted to make conversation because I wanted company. Come drink with me. I have your favorite drink ready,” he said as he stood in front of the chair.

  “I don’t want your company. And I don’t want a drink.”

  “Barbara. You and I are both lonely people, we can be great company together tonight.” He slowly walked toward her, stumbling in the darkness, and grabbed her by her waist. His six-foot muscular frame towered over her five-eight stature.

  She tried to turn around to leave but he grabbed her arms and pulled her close. He moved fast and swift considering his drunken state. She stood there trying to maneuver away from his grasp.

  His breath reeked of alcohol as he huffed heavily on her neck, leaving a wet trail of alcoholic lip marks behind. They tussled for a second and she gripped his shoulder.

  He grunted and let out another wave of alcoholic breath stench when she kicked him between his thighs. He fumbled and fell on the rickety wooden floor.

  “Don’t fucking touch me without my consent. I paid you already,” she told him.

  She had to stop her left leg midair before it collided with his chest as he rocked himself on the floor, hissing in pain.

  She didn’t want to lose control and she knew that this behavior was unlike him. He hardly ever drank and when he did, she made sure she was in her basement. She didn’t know how he would react, but she realized that he became sexually aroused when he did.

  Her dislike toward him was creeping into a slow progressive hate. Not only because of tonight but for their partial payment arrangement.

  She took another look at him as he squirmed on the floor. She stomped through the kitchen, ran the few steps to the basement, and deadbolted the three locks she’d installed on the door last year for protection.

  She listened to his cries. “One day you will beg for my help,” he shouted from the top of the stairs, and then his footsteps became distant until she could no longer hear them.

  She slid down the door and sat on the cold wooden floor and without making any sound tears streamed down her face. She silently cried for minutes, which she hadn’t done in a long time.

  She regained her composure and dragged herself to her bathroom. She didn’t even look at her reflection, she just undressed and stood underneath the rickety faucet in the shower.

  She was relieved that she’d been able to stop herself from hurting him even worse. This has got to be motivation enough to get the hell out of this house, she thought.

  Later she lay on her mattress. The quietness of the night was soothing, but all she could do was stare at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep. She reached for her phone and turned on her favorite tune and hummed the words.

  Chapter 19

  The scene outside of the warehouse was more crowded than when they’d discovered the murder a few days ago. The bright camera lights and the red and blue flashing lights lured neighbors from their sleep to the scene. Reporters from every news station had set up outside the perimeters of the police tape updating viewers watching the nightly news. This new revelation rattled the neighbors. They were worried and scared that any one of them could be the next target.

  Both Coolidge and McKinley scanned the area, scouring the crowd for their sketchy witness John Doe. But the dark-skinned man with the distinctive beard never showed.

  Deputy Harry arrived and as usual he looked like he’d just walked out of a photoshoot, his uniform pressed, his gun belt polished, and his black shoes in top shape. He looked sharp, which was a good indication that he was on the right path for career growth. That was what was taught at the FCCA training academy. To be the best you had to look the part. Maintaining a healthy diet and looking sharp intimidated the hell out of suspects.

  “Does this guy ever look disheveled?” Coolidge whispered.

  “Sounds like you got a crush,” McKinley said.

  “Not a chance. He’s too young. Besides, he’s not my type. He looks like he spends way too much time looking in the mirror. But he is pretty to look at,” she added.

  Before McKinley could reply to that, Deputy Harry was standing in front of them.

  “Hey, guys, sorry I’m late. I was assisting two other deputies on a murder scene with two bodies stabbed inside a limo. As soon as I was done there I raced over here,” Deputy Harry said.

  “Another murder, huh?” Coolidge said, looking at McKinley.

  McKinley shrugged. He would ask about tha
t later but for now he needed to update the deputy on this scene.

  “No worries. We called you since you’re the lead deputy investigator and I’m sure you would want to update your files with our report. We don’t normally do this, but Coolidge over here likes you, so what better way to get you guys reacquainted than to work side by side,” McKinley said with a smirk.

  Coolidge sent McKinley an evil expression. She grabbed his ear and pulled it down to her and whispered, “Wait till I get my revenge.”

  Deputy Harry smiled and smoothed his hair. That was a huge ego boost for him.

  “Don’t even think about it, Deputy,” she said, pointing at him.

  “Yes, ma’am, I mean, no, ma’am, I mean…” he said nervously.

  “Look, let’s just get to work, okay?” Coolidge interrupted.

  She walked past Deputy Harry and gestured for him to follow.

  Deputy Harry looked back at McKinley, who gave him two thumbs up, and Deputy Harry winked back at him.

  The scene inside the warehouse was bizarre coupled with a dose of gruesome.

  “I can’t believe we missed this on our first night here,” Deputy Harry said. He rubbed his chin as he looked around.

  McKinley nodded. “Yeah, we wouldn’t have been able to see this if it weren’t for the entryway Agent Coolidge found, which led to this secret doorway within the warehouse.”

  “Don’t forget to mention that I had to crawl through the hole and get dirty because someone spends too much time at the ‘gym’ and couldn’t ‘fit’ through the opening,” Coolidge said, side-eyeing McKinley.

  He shook his head, feigning shock. “I have no idea who you’re talking about, but I’m sure that he would appreciate the compliment.”

  She sighed. “I can’t with men.”

  McKinley smirked and Deputy Harry shrugged.

  The forensics team arrived and started setting up their lights and cameras for the first team to take pictures of the scene. The second team of forensics were swabbing the area for the splattered blood and flesh particles left on the walls, floor, and any crevice. They were all wearing the same protective attire over their clothing to keep from contaminating the scene further. McKinley realized how thin the gowns were and how rough it was against his skin, something that he had overlooked the first time around. In fact, he never gave it that much thought until now when he felt goosebumps prickle through his skin. The room was warm and teemed with the acridness of death as his skin crawled at the sight of it all.

 

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