Promised Lies
Marguerite Ashton
© Marguerite Ashton 2017
Marguerite Ashton has asserted her rights under the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.
First published by Endeavour Press Ltd in 2017.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 1
October 21, 2015 9:21 p.m.
Tanya O’Neal’s bare feet padded the cold moist earth as she struggled to find a way out of the hole located in her captor’s shed. His real name she didn’t know; just his online profile: CtryGeek23. It had been two days since she’d decided to flee the demeaning abuse from her uncle to be with the man she thought was sweet, kind and wanted to be with her. I’m sorry, Mom.
Now she was going to be the next to die. Did she have a chance in hell of getting out? Why would he kill her friend and keep her alive? She just wanted out before he came back again. Pain vibrated through her body as she dug at the dirt wall, trying to climb out only to keep falling back in.
She stepped away from the wall and wiped her hands on the poodle skirt and oversize sweater CtryGeek23 had given her. Even with the heat from the wood stove, Tanya fought to stay warm. She looked down at the dark stain on the sleeve and wondered if another person had worn the sweater. Like another victim?
Still groggy from being drugged, Tanya rubbed her swollen eyes and lifted her head to try to look out of the dimly lit hole. Not able to see much, she stepped back, stumbling over the lifeless body of her friend. Sam.
Within seconds she was back on her feet, scanning the shed. Dim evening light shined through two windows above, catching the black seat attached to a red tractor in its path. A cluttered workbench sat on the other side of the tractor.
Heavy footsteps moved around outside, coming closer.
Tanya’s breath caught in her throat.
The door to the shed flew open and in walked the older man who’d made her dress up in clothes from the fifties and listen to stories while he worked around in the shed. “Remember my little story I told you about?”
“Yes,” Tanya said in a low whisper.
CtryGeek23 lowered a ladder into the hole and adjusted it to a longer length. “You can come out now,” he said, positioning the ladder.
Tanya hesitated. His face resembled stone. It was like looking at a shaped mask, but hidden underneath was the same expression of anger he’d worn as he stabbed her friend over and over.
Her hands trembled as she reached for the ladder, placed her feet on the cold rungs and ascended. If he was going to get rid of her wouldn’t he come down into the hole and do to her what he did to Sam? Maybe he was going to let her go because she’d listened to his story, unlike her friend, who’d refused.
As she reached the top of the ladder, he turned around, retrieved some rags from the workbench and tossed them onto the drop cloth lying near the door. CtryGeek23 faced her and ran his fingers along her cheek. “So pretty. So innocent. You remind me of the woman in my story. The skirt looks good on you don’t you think? Go ahead, twirl around for me.”
Hot tears streaked Tanya’s face as she did what he wanted. When she was done she stared up at CtryGeek23, trying to look past him at the shed door. She wanted to swoop around him and try to claim her freedom. But she’d seen his quick movements when he went after Sam when she tried to escape. And look what happened to her.
“I’m going to ask you a question.”
“A question?”
“Let’s pretend you’re my girlfriend.” He grabbed her hand and pulled Tanya toward him. “Would you promise to marry me knowing what you do now?”
Marry you? Was he talking about the story he told me? What am I supposed to say? Yes.
Farm machinery sounded in the distance.
“Yes,” Tanya said, trying to pull out of his grasp.
CtryGeek23’s grip tightened.
Tanya’s knees buckled.
Quick breaths escaped from his mouth, filling the space between them with a spicy aroma. “Your eyes tell me something different.”
Without warning, CtryGeek23 hoisted a knife speckled with blood and sliced open Tanya’s sweater.
Shocked, she threw up her hands as he raised the knife again, blocking the strike.
CtryGeek23 cursed, threw Tanya down on the drop cloth. She screamed as she scrambled towards the door.
Running footsteps passed her by as CtryGeek23 lunged for the door, flipped the hasp over and snapped the padlock shut.
*
11:39 p.m.
The pounding in Detective Collin Blanchette’s ears elevated as he closed the folder on the cold case file and looked at the photo of his daughter, Celine, attached to the unsolved case from six months ago.
It had been three weeks since he’d decided to take another crack at it, hoping he’d find another case that resembled his daughter’s murder. Some of the best guys he knew had worked the case, but the leads had dried up. It was as if the cold-hearted bastard had taken extra care to cover his tracks so that he wouldn’t be found.
Usually, a perp will leave something behind, no matter how small, but not this one. Now it was time to find him.
Collin’s desk phone rang and he picked it up on the first ring. “Homicide.”
“Do you have anything on that drug dealer that was killed over on Riley Street?”
A late night call from the assistant district attorney meant she was sniffing around trying to see if the police were doing their job. “I know you’re busy huddled at your desk waiting for the next defendant, but Riley Street isn’t my only case.”
“Do you have anything or not?”
“No one in the neighborhood is talking.”
“I don’t believe that. Everybody talks to you. Or maybe there’s a six month-old case pulling at your heart strings that’s keeping you from doing your job.”
“Guess I’ve lost my touch, because the tweekers aren’t desperate enough to pass up their fix for a place to sleep,” Collin said.
“What about your informants? I know you have at least two and they aren’t registered to you.”
Silence lingered on the phone. Although Ibee was right about having informants on the side, he had his reasons and she knew it.
“Dammit, I’m due for a comp after what you did to bust up the Surace case a while back. That case was my shot to make me look good to the voters.”
“That Surace case was a long time ago and what you were doing was wrong.” Collin cupped his hand over the receiver and lowered his voice. “Don’t forget, I’ve got enough stuff on you to make that guy you were
going to send to prison for a murder he didn’t commit look like a saint.” He slammed the phone down.
“Whoa, buddy,” Kevin said, knocking on Collin’s office door. “Who pissed you off this time?” He stepped in and closed the door.
Collin looked up and forced a smile for his old partner and sergeant. Kevin Owen sported a military-style haircut laced with silver streaks, broad shoulders, and a little paunch that protruded slightly over his belt. “The one person that can fill my tolerance filter in less than ten seconds just by opening her mouth.”
Sarge pulled up a chair and took a seat across from Collin. He leaned back and stared at his friend. “I think there are only two people who can handle our A.D.A. Your daughter and her partner.” A flicker of concern danced in his eyes.
Collin nodded and pondered the real reason why Kevin was here on his day off. It reminded him of the times they used to ride together. Tomorrow they were getting together for coffee so they could plan one more day to play golf before the weather started getting cold. Why couldn’t it wait until then? “What’s wrong, Kev?”
Heavy rain pelted the window overlooking the parking lot.
“One of the guys saw your wife having lunch with You Know Who.”
“Does this person have proof?” Collin asked.
“Several people have proof. The officer was celebrating his birthday at McGinley’s with his family where they took pics and shared them online. I just wanted to tell you before someone else did. And after everything you’ve been through with her…,”
Collin stood, yanked his coat off his chair and stormed out of the office. “Damn you, Deena.”
Chapter 2
October 22, 7: 53 a.m.
Damn rain. Detective Lily Blanchette stepped out of the Charger, slamming the door behind her. Normally, she loved a rainy morning, but not when her first crime scene as lead investigator was in danger of flooding.
Lily ducked under the yellow marker tape and spotted her first responder, six foot one, conspicuously handsome Nick Levins. “Halloween’s not for another week,” she said. “What do we have here?”
“Two teenagers who walk this stretch of road to and from school found the bodies of two Caucasian females. I arrived first on the scene and Officer Martinez joined me soon after and helped secure the scene. I called the medical examiner and emergency personnel. They’re here and waiting for you.”
“Has anyone talked to the kids?”
“They’re being interviewed now.” Nick handed her a pair of disposable booties. “I think there’s something you should know.”
Lily waited, listening.
“There’s a similarity to the case from six months ago.”
Lily concentrated on placing the booties over her penny loafers. “Who has the logbook?”
“Martinez.”
“Let’s get this over with.”
Lily’s guts clenched as she approached the red 10 x10 tent encapsulated by trees in the abandoned field. It had been a quiet night until now. And if what Nick said was true, then everything about her family’s past would be stirred up again and back in the papers.
She took a deep breath and went inside, stepping carefully, avoiding the markers.
Technicians snapped pictures while others placed stepping plates around the scene.
Lily continued examining the grassy section near the bodies. As she moved in for a closer look, a tech pulled back the tarp, revealing two tortured and lifeless bodies posed in a grotesque fashion, their hands positioned above their heads, pressed together as if in prayer. She paused. It was like looking at a similar image of her dead sister, Celine.
The victims’ hair was matted with mud and rain, while loose strands rested at the corners of their mouths. Small rivulets of blood had wept from underneath, staining the pink and white cloths that barely covered their breasts and genitals.
She viewed the womens’ well-manicured hands encased in paper bags, taped at the wrists. A worn down gold wedding band had been placed on their left ring fingers, just like Celine.
“Oh, my God. He’s back,” Lily whispered. “Who’s the M.E. on site?”
“Hauser,” Nick replied.
“Of all the cases in Fort Atkinson, they give you this one,” Frank Hauser said, walking up to her. Tiny drops of water dripped from the tips of his reddish-brown hair.
“Well with Dad’s heavy case load and his partner on leave, Owen didn’t have a choice. I can handle it.”
“Are you sure?”
“What do you think the killer was going for, posing them in this manner?”
“Shock value maybe.”
“It’s bizarre. Do you have a time of death?”
“I’m going to say TOD was, approximately, eight hours ago. The chilling effects of the rain may have contributed to their condition. The bodies are cool to the touch. Rigor and lividity have set in also. I won’t know exactly until I get them back to the morgue.” Hauser kneeled down next to the victims.
“Cause of death?”
“Both victims have contusions on their necks. There are stab wounds above, on, and underneath the breasts.” He turned over their hands. “They also have cuts on their hands and arms.”
“They look like defensive wounds and there’s not much blood. I’m betting that they were moved.”
“I’m wondering if the perp wiped down the bodies.”
“Or the rain rinsed them clean.”
“Either way, something was left behind. A bloody print was found on the face of a watch that one of the girls was wearing. As for the exact cause of death, I don’t want to guess at this point.
“We also found boot prints located above their heads. We’ve made casts of them.”
Lily noticed an evidence marker between their legs. “Were the victims raped?”
Hauser nodded. “I’m thinking it was done post-mortem. My guess is that he stabbed them at the scene of the crime, brought them here, and raped them.”
“Where are their clothes?” Lily took notes.
“They didn’t have any. Only the cloths.”
“Which means no identification.”
The medical examiner reached for the arm of one of the victims. “This is the watch that has the fingerprint on it. No clothes, no personal effects of any kind. Only the watch and the cloths were left behind.”
“I want to know why after killing his victims, he felt the need to do what he did. I want to know the reason for him covering up his victims with dainty cloths. What is he feeling? Is he developing a conscience after the fact?”
“Most likely.” Hauser covered the bodies with the tarp again. “Hopefully, I’ll have all of your questions answered after my autopsy.”
“Is it safe to assume that this case is similar to the one from before?” Lily pressed.
He shook his head.
“Come on, Hauser. Don’t clam up on me now. I need an answer.”
“Between you and me, yes. But don’t quote me. With the election coming up, I don’t want to be caught in the middle.”
“Thanks.” Lily removed a flashlight from her breast pocket, motioned for the crime scene tech, and began a grid search of the area.
These murders had to be calculated. But what was the killer’s purpose? What set him off to resume killing?
“Welcome back, partner,” Morgan said. “Have you heard the latest rumor going on back at the station?”
“The one about my mother?”
“No. The one about you being the first chick of color leading an investigation team here in this stale city.”
“So Mom’s black. That’s a color. Dad’s white. Also a color. The focus should be if I’m going to solve this case.”
“You’ve got this. So, did you enjoy your honeymoon?”
“Let’s just say, I wished I’d stay home.” Lily glanced up at her best friend, Morgan Danvers, and shook her head. Morgan did it again. It was the third time in two weeks her partner had slid her tall frame into a pair of loud colored dress pan
ts and matching boots with a thick heel. “When are you going to learn to dress down for this job?”
“Never. So no more lectures about my wardrobe.” Even with the booties on, Morgan’s heels sank in the wet earth.
“Is Evan here?” Lily asked.
“He’s over talking to Sarge. Evan got here before I did.”
“Good. I could use the help.”
Hauser signaled his crew to prepare for departure. Team members gathered their equipment and loaded it into the vehicles. As Lily and the others completed their search, the bodies of the two women were placed in separate plastic-coated body bags and sealed with a tamperproof seal.
“Can I ask a favor,” Lily asked, catching up to Hauser.
“Depends.”
“Is there any way this can get your immediate attention?”
“That’s an extra four to six hours that I don’t have the staff for. Besides, I’m two behind.”
“That’s why it’s called a favor.”
“One a year, Lily. You’ve used up your favor for the year,” he said, walking away.
“You’re the best,” she called after him.
Nick walked up to Lily and handed her a clipboard sealed in plastic. “Here you go.”
“Is this my entry log?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Nick tipped his hat and retreated.
At that moment, Lily wanted to do the same thing. Run away. Run to the darkest corner of her two-story home and scream until the laws of nature doubled back six months and returned her sister to her.
Lily had hoped her dad would be the one to mentor her on her first lead case. Where was he? She’d called twice on her way to the scene, but didn’t get an answer. Now she’d have to plunge into this and solve it alone.
*
Twenty minutes later, a small cluster of reporters had formed a line behind the perimeter located off County Road K while a row of squad cars blocked traffic going in both directions and officers worked to reroute motorists.
If Lily made one mistake involving this investigation, the press would be sure to make it one of their headlines.
She scanned the crowd, hoping he hadn’t shown up. No luck. There, off to the left, was her husband, Julius Willer. He stood six foot four, dwarfing his female colleague, a dark haired reporter in a pinstriped shirt and skirt.
Promised Lies (A Detective Blanchette Mystery) Page 1