by Robin Mahle
Katie made the call.
After more than a few rings, a voice found its way through. “Agent Scarborough.”
“Nick, it’s me, Katie. I got your email this morning…”
But before she could continue, he spoke. “Thanks for calling, Katie, but listen; now’s not a good time. I’m in Colorado and heading to the coroner’s office. I’ll keep this brief. If you’re interested, I’d like to send you some information on the case. Just to get a fresh pair of eyes on it. It’ll have to be off the record, you understand?”
“Yeah. Okay. I’d be happy to see what you’ve got. But Nick, why me?”
“You know why, Katie. My intuition hasn’t failed me yet and it’s telling me you could be a vital part of this investigation, but no one can know about it. Not yet anyway. As much as my ASAC likes you, he wouldn’t appreciate me going to you with this. But, I just got a feeling.”
“Okay, well, I was going to ask you if I could relay any information to Aguilar.”
“Can’t talk about that now, Katie. Gotta run. But, for now, let’s just keep this between you and me. I’ll send you what I’ve got later and I’ll be in touch.”
“Okay.” Katie was unsure of how else to respond. He’d mentioned in his email that he wanted to run a few questions by her, but taking a look at his files? That seemed way outside her wheelhouse, but before she could inquire further, Nick had disconnected the call.
“Okay. Guess I’ll talk to you later then.”
***
A knock on Edward’s door at this early hour couldn’t be good. He shuffled towards the front room and pulled on a pair of shorts that had been tossed on the couch.
He peered through the peephole where two uniformed officers stood. One was standing as if at attention. The other appeared more relaxed. Edward assumed he was the senior partner, but what eluded him was the reason for their presence.
“Edward Shalot? This is San Diego County Sheriff’s office.” The officer knocked on the door again.
“Shit,” he whispered and began unlocking the deadbolt. An immediate surge of adrenaline made its way through him, sending him a little shaky. “Good morning, officers. What can I do for you?” Edward fixed on his most charming smile, which he had called on in many different scenarios, mostly involving women. Whether it would work in this particular situation remained to be seen.
The junior officer looked to his mentor, dispensing with any thought that he was the one in charge.
“Mr. Shalot, I’m Deputy Jackson and this is Deputy McGuire.” The man held out an envelope. “We had a Lindsay Brown come in with her attorney yesterday afternoon. It seems you and Ms. Brown had an incident the other night?”
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about. Lindsay and I had a date and, at the end of the date, we had a minor argument and she left. Nothing else happened, sir.” Edward felt a rise of panic in his stomach.
“Mr. Shalot, this is a Temporary Civil Harassment Restraining Order filed on behalf of Ms. Brown. This will remain in effect for not less than three weeks, at which time Ms. Brown will be notified by a judge as to the permanent status of the restraining order. Mr. Shalot, you are not to contact Ms. Brown in any way, including email or texting, nor go to her home or place of business. You will be served with the permanent restraining order once it has been approved by the judge.” Deputy Jackson handed Edward the envelope.
“I don’t understand. I didn’t do anything. That stupid bitch. This is going to be on my record now.”
The deputies already began to turn away, but stopped short when Edward continued to run his mouth.
“I’m sorry?” Deputy Jackson laid a hand on the butt of his holstered gun. “Are we going to have a problem here, Mr. Shalot?”
Edward tossed a glance at the gun. “No, sir. I’m just—surprised; that’s all. Have a good day.” He closed the door and thumped his head on the back of it, wondering what the hell had just happened.
“A restraining order. A fucking restraining order.” Heat began to rise in his cheeks. Edward couldn’t let this bitch ruin everything. If she was capable of this, he wondered what else she might do.
The only hope he had of making this thing go away would be for him to try and make amends first. Withdrawing the order wasn’t possible, but at least when it got to court, she could make a statement and try to convince the judge to cancel the order.
“I have to see her.”
It was a risky proposition to say the least, but Edward believed his charms could hold sway over her. Lindsay was a young and naïve girl. Showering her with a little affection and maybe some flowers and all would be forgiven. The belief that he held such power over women had been confirmed by previous efforts and he felt he could draw on those experiences to get him out of this situation as well.
Edward couldn’t risk Katie finding out about any of this. Chances that the two of them, Lindsay and Katie, would cross each other’s paths were slim, but if she caught wind from the law enforcement pipeline or from another student in their class and decided to look it up, his story would unravel in a hurry. This would have to be nipped in the bud. Today.
***
The knock on Lindsay’s door was gentle and non-threatening. It was midday and Edward knew she stopped by her house for lunch before her two p.m. psych class. His only concern was if the roommate was home too. If she was there, he wouldn’t stand a chance of getting through that door.
The dark-haired, chain-smoking political science major had moved in with Lindsay at the beginning of the year. She didn’t like Edward much. Thought he was narcissist. At least, that was what she had expressed to Lindsay and she’d relayed the information to him one night over the phone. “You know, she thinks you’re a little full of yourself,” Lindsay had said, following it up with a drunken snort.
Edward waited for the door to open. Maybe she wasn’t home yet. He double-checked the time on his watch. She should be here by now. A second knock was followed by a press of the doorbell. He could hear it echoing inside. “Lindsay? Laura?” Edward pressed his ear against the door. “Dammit.”
Edward started to turn away, working through his plan as this attempt seemed to have been a bust. As he moved towards the front window, a small opening through the otherwise closed curtains allowed him to catch a glimpse inside. The scene forced him to pull back quickly, gasping at the unexpected sight. “What the fuck?” He dropped the flowers and pressed his face to the window for a better look.
Inside, the living room had been ransacked. The white sofa, overturned, the black table collapsed, tilted on its two remaining legs. Papers scattered, figurines lying shattered on the ground. Empty bookshelves and table tops. “Jesus!” Edward shot a glance behind him and to either side. No one was around. The neighbor’s houses were quiet and the street was barren.
He started to walk towards the side of the small house and in between the narrow opening between the homes. A window had been broken. It was Lindsay’s bedroom window. A sudden jolt of fear passed through him as he leaned back, his pulse quickening.
Edward was not a man of compassion. He was not charitable, nor did he consider his fellow man in any manner other than how he might benefit from them. But as he stood in the three-foot gap, his shoes settling in the damp soil, he felt genuine concern for the woman who had seemingly set out to destroy his plans. Or perhaps it was primarily concern for what would be perceived as his role in the present situation.
He stepped forward, landing on the fallen ruins below, pushing them into the ground under his weight. Edward leaned further until his head was inside the opening.
Lindsay lay sprawled out on the floor, her face covered in blood. His legs wobbled beneath him. His hands trembled so much so that his left palm sliced open on impact against the broken glass still hanging inside the window frame.
He could not look away and devoured every inch of her body with fear and fascination.
Edward’s attention was focused on what she held in her hands. He narrowed h
is eyes to gain a better view. Yes. Dandelions, but what was more concerning to him was the symbol left by her killer. “Oh my god.” He reached for his cell phone.
Only after ending the call that had taken much longer than he’d expected, did Edward finally call the police.
“911, what is your emergency?” the voice on the other end asked.
“I’m at my girlfriend’s house. She’s dead. Someone killed her.”
***
“Marshall?” Katie jogged to catch up to him in the hall. “Do you have a minute? I wanted to talk to you about Agent Scarborough. I asked if I could get some information on the ‘Highway Hunter.’ He said he’d welcome a second set of eyes on some of the files, but it has to be off the record.” She was struggling to keep up with him. It seemed he was on his way to somewhere in a hurry.
Marshall tossed her a sideways glance. “Well, you might get a chance to see him in person very soon. A call came in about an hour ago. Someone found a woman’s body in her home. According to Captain Hearn, it could be related to the man the FBI is looking for.”
Marc’s words came to her in an instant. “We need to get ahead of this thing, Katie, before the killer ends up at our doorstep.”
Was it possible? She’d only spoken to Nick this morning and he was heading to the scene of another possible victim in Colorado. That would mean the suspect would have had to take a flight in order to get to San Diego so quickly. From what she knew of the case already, days or almost a week would pass before another victim would turn up.
“You say she was found in her home? From what Scarborough knows about the killer, he says that the guy tosses the bodies onto the side of the highway. Something’s not adding up.” Katie was already thinking like a detective. She began to feel energized by the news and was ready to go all in and do what she could to help.
“The captain knows more about this than I do and, by the sounds of it, so do you.” A measure of discontent seemed to prevail in him.
The tone was not lost on her, but she continued, “Who’s the lead on the case?”
“If it turns out to be the guy the FBI is looking for, they’ll handle it. But Hearn has assigned Gibbons for the time being. He’s heading out now.” It appeared that Marshall was feeling a twinge of guilt for his earlier comment. “Look, if you want in on it, you’d better talk to Harris to get on his team.”
This case would be outside Marshall’s area and so Katie knew his involvement would be limited at best. The differing units in the department crossed paths once in a while and Marshall was senior to many of the other detectives. They often came to him for advice or to run on a lead, if needed. It came as no surprise that he was already aware of the call. She was glad to have his support, even if it seemed somewhat reluctant.
“Thank you, Marshall.”
Rather than return to her office, Katie took Marshall’s advice and headed straight to see Dr. Harris. As the Crime Scene Supervisor, he assigned the investigators and evidence technicians. It wasn’t often Katie requested to work on a case, but she hoped he would give her an opportunity now.
“Dr. Harris?” Katie tapped on his opened door.
The scene in his office depicted a man quite literally obsessed with the history of forensics. He held a Ph.D. in Forensic and Behavior Science, so this hadn’t come as much of a surprise to Katie. Textbooks, certificates, even a DNA model were all on display on the several bookshelves that lined the walls.
“Katie? Please, come in. What can I do for you?” He removed his glasses, placing them neatly on his desk and rubbed his hands along the top of his freshly-shaved head. As a man nearing what Katie assumed to be about fifty, he was in remarkable shape. His button-down shirt revealed slightly bulging pectoral muscles and broad shoulders. What he lacked in vision and hair, he more than made up for with a well-toned frame.
“I understand that Detective Gibbons is handling the case of the victim over near Bay Park that was called in this morning.”
Dr. Harris leaned in, as if waiting for her to continue.
“I was wondering if you’ve already assigned your techs to the team.”
“Are you interested in this particular case?” Dr. Harris seemed curious by the special request.
“Well, yes, actually. I hear they think it has something to do with this ‘Highway Hunter,’ and well, I know the FBI agent working that case, and I just thought maybe I could help.”
“We don’t know if any connection exists between the two, not that Gibbons has relayed to me anyway. But if you want in, you’re in. If there is a connection, you won’t be in for long. The FBI will pull it from us in the blink of an eye.”
“I understand. Thank you, Dr. Harris. Who will the CSI be that I should report to?”
“Sanderson is at the scene now, or will be within minutes. Call him. Tell him you’ll be assisting in the collection of the evidence.” Dr. Harris placed his glasses back on his face, signaling the end of the conversation.
“Thank you again, Dr. Harris.” Katie nodded gently and, as she turned to leave, a wide grin spread across her face.
7
IT SEEMED LIKE a quaint neighborhood. Green lawns, trimmed hedges, 1960s architecture. Katie took in the picturesque scene, finding it hard to believe a murder had just been committed inside one of these small bungalows.
Stepping out of her Toyota and into the organized chaos of the crime scene, Katie looked for Gibbons and Sanderson. Three patrol cars and the coroner’s van were parked out front. Neighbors had been held back by barricades and tape. Some appeared to return to their homes, while others remained fixed by their own morbid fascination.
On approach to the lead detective, Katie immediately recognized the man to whom he was speaking. “Edward?”
Detective Gibbons turned to her, appearing confused by her familiarity. “Katie? You know Mr. Shalot?”
“We’re in the same class at UCSD. Criminal Justice,” Edward replied.
“Yes, that’s right. What’s going on?” Katie asked.
“Mr. Shalot discovered the victim earlier this morning and made the 911 call.” Gibbons hesitated for a moment before continuing. “Sanderson is inside. Why don’t you touch base with him, see what he needs?”
Gibbons appeared reluctant to share anything further regarding Edward. The brushoff was fairly apparent and not just to her. “Of course.”
Sanderson was in the living room, scribbling notes on his tablet. Lights flashed as photographs were being taken. Evidence was carefully being placed in bags and those inside were documenting and collecting with precision.
“Officer Sanderson? Dr. Harris assigned me to assist you.”
“Katie. Great. Glad you’re here.” Sanderson turned up and caught sight of her. “We could use your help transporting the evidence to the vehicles.” He looked towards the man photographing the upturned coffee table. “Crawford? Reid is here to help. Put her to work.”
***
Detective Gibbons stood on the porch, huddled with another officer, while Shalot remained as he was directed, leaning over the thick wood railing on the opposite end.
“You’re telling me this guy had a restraining order filed against him just yesterday? Son of a bitch.” Gibbons stood with arms folded and legs shoulder width apart. He towered over the other officer by a good foot. “We’re gonna have to bring him in.” He cast a brief look to Shalot.
“What about the FBI? This girl was carved up just like the others. And the weeds?” The officer shook his head.
“The media doesn’t know about that. I don’t see how we could be dealing with a copycat. I’ll put a call in to the captain now. Why don’t you go and tell our friend over there that he’s gonna be coming in with us?” Gibbons raised the cell phone to his ear.
“Ten-four.”
“Oh, and one last thing.” Gibbons turned back. “We need to have a word with Reid. She knows this guy.”
***
The lab was inundated with evidence from Lindsay Brown’s home.
Katie, along with the rest of the evidence team, finished unloading the boxes.
Word had reached Katie that Gibbons wanted to speak with her. “Is there anything else you need from me?” She waited patiently for Sanderson to look up from his computer and offer direction.
“We’re good for now, Katie. Thank you. You were a big help this morning.”
She took leave and headed for Detective Gibbons’ office. The desire to call Scarborough and let him in on the present situation ate away at her, but stepping over that line wasn’t advisable. Not yet. She would wait to see what Gibbons had to say.
Seeing her classmate there was unexpected, to say the least. She was sure this was why Gibbons had called on her. “Knock, knock.” Katie rapped her knuckles on the door frame of the detective’s office.
He turned his attention from his partner, appearing to have been in furtive conversation. “Come in, Katie. Please, close the door behind you.”
Gibbons was junior to Marshall, but only by a few years. He had worked Homicide at the department for the past three, coming from SWAT. He was a good cop and well respected.
He sat perched on the edge of his desk. Katie took a seat, feeling his guarded eyes fall on her.
Gibbons’ partner, Detective Garza, was fairly new to the department, having transferred from Riverside. Katie knew little about him, but he appeared even less approachable than Gibbons. Maybe that was due to his unfamiliarity or maybe it was due to the grave look on his face. Katie suddenly began to feel as though she was under suspicion.