Deadly Obsessions (Kensington-Gerard Detective series Book 3)

by K. T. Roberts

  DEADLY OBSESSIONS

  K. T. Roberts

  Dedicated to Bob

  Without you, there is no music.

  BOOKS BY K. T. ROBERTS

  The Last Witness-Kensington-Gerard Detective Series-No. 1

  Elusive Justice-Kensington-Gerard Detective Series-No. 2

  Deadly Obsessions Kensington-Gerard Detectives Series-No. 3

  Magnetic Attraction-Contemporary Romance

  Educating Daphne-Contemporary Romance

  Indescribably You (April 2016)

  Blind Retribution (2016)

  NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:

  Deadly Obsessions is based on a true crime that took place in the Hillcrest Ranch area of Glendale, Arizona when Cynthia Langrall was murdered during her early morning jog on December 21, 2009.

  For those of you who followed this case, you’ll notice some similarities, but I’ve mostly used my own creative licensing to add a new dimension to make the story my own.

  Cover Design by Carol Webb – Bella Media Management

  © 2014 by K. T. Roberts

  Revised Edition 5-5-16

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the author.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  As always, no book would be possible without the shared knowledge and encouragement of others throughout the process.

  My heartfelt thanks to my sister, L. Jessie Esposito, a former undercover detective in the Port Authority of NY-NJ for her knowledge and thirty-six years of expertise to make sure I was on the right track. Another thanks to the law enforcement officers at crimescenewriters, and Lee Lofland of the Writers’ Police Academy who willingly answer my unending questions. On the home front, my wonderful husband, Bob, who played a significant role in helping to make this story a reality! I love you with all my heart.

  Praise for The Last Witness and Elusive Justice

  “Even the ending packs a punch!”

  “I’m not going to spoil anything about this book, but I will say . . . if you like James Paterson’s books, you’ll really enjoy this one.”

  “For those who got hooked on the O.J. trial, you’ll enjoy this latest from K. T. Roberts.”

  “But perhaps my favorite character is twelve-year old Max, a kid who has to deal with the clash between conscience and curiosity. I'm ready to adopt Max.”

  “This mystery touches all the bases: an investigation, a villain, a dash of romance and a pinch of humanity. You'll like it. I did.”

  “This book really holds your attention from the very first page.”

  “K.T. Roberts manages to weave mystery, romance and suspense all in one story. Loved it! So much so that I started the book and could not put it down until I'd read the very last word!!”

  “This is a well-structured police procedural with two sharp detectives who know how to get the job done.”

  1

  CARLY HAWKINS darted down the half-dozen stairs in front of her apartment building and was surprised when a gust of wind whipped around her. She jiggled in place hurrying to zip her jacket, then set off down the street in a quickened pace to raise her body temperature. It appeared Mother Nature had reneged on the unseasonably warm weather she had bestowed upon the residents of New York over the last two days. But then, what did she expect during the month of December?

  Regardless of the biting chill in the air, the sidewalks were just as crowded as they normally were. The only time it was peaceful on the streets of New York City was at five in the morning when she’d go out for her daily jog. With the exception of a handful of drunks sleeping off the aftereffects of overindulging at that hour, the streets and sidewalks were relatively free of people, exhaust fumes, and those shouting obscenities.

  She smiled when a group of inattentive teenagers passed by. They reminded her of her grown daughters who were always in their own little world, busy talking about the hottest guy in their class. Carly managed to gracefully maneuver around them and continued down the street. She blew out a frustrated breath and watched it dissipate in the cold air.

  Going for a walk after dinner was a respite away from a husband who was not only smothering, but his unemployment status had filled her with resentment. She shook her head thinking about the speed with which the bastard had risen to gigolo status and stopped looking for work. He was living the good life on her dime. A sharp pain punched in her stomach. She increased her stride hoping to stop focusing on her troubles, but it was difficult after working all day for a bully newcomer at the law firm, then coming home to a different kind of bully and it was causing an ongoing tightness in her chest. That’s why her evening walks were so important. But waiting for Harlan to pass out on the sofa every night after dinner felt like she was playing beat the clock. Fortunately, tonight he had passed out rather quickly. Every minute away from his fixations was better than pretending to listen to his complaints about everything, from his former boss to her poor housekeeping skills. Those evening walks had become her only chance of maintaining her sanity, and she wasn’t so sure she had much of that left.

  In spite of the anger she felt, pangs of guilt filled her for even thinking about how much she hated Harlan because there were times when she did feel sorry for him. But that wasn’t love. Not by a long shot. She felt pity for him.

  Carly shook her head again wondering why she hadn’t seen through Harlan’s façade when they were dating. But she hadn’t. During their courtship, he had done whatever he could to sweep her off her feet. And he had. But it sure hadn’t taken him long to show his true colors. After the knot was tied, Harlan had changed dramatically. It became obvious romance and love no longer mattered to him. Now, five years later and Carly had promised herself she was going to throw him out. The problem was he had no friends or relatives—at least none that wanted to be in his company. He’d burned those bridges long ago.

  As she looked up and down the street, she smiled with satisfaction. She was thankful her job at the law firm as a paralegal afforded her the lifestyle she had dreamt about for as long as she could remember. After living in a cramped one-bedroom apartment during her growing years with five brothers and one sister, she vowed she was going to study hard to have a good life. And that’s exactly what she did.

  A young man passed by and gave her an appreciative glance. She had turned many heads in the past because of her shapely figure and long blonde hair. But as others had pointed out, it was her deep blue eyes that wrapped her many attributes into a nice little package. Carly gave a silent thank you. She needed to know she was worthy after the kind of day she’d had.

  For a brief second, the young man seemed familiar, except she quickly realized the expression on his face only reminded her of the first time Roger Benson saw her. He was the newest attorney to join the law firm. Anger shot through her. After the way he had treated her today, he would be lucky if she ever spoke to him again. Nevertheless, it was her boss, Mr. Ghosh, who’d asked her to research for their newest employee during his probationary period to give Roger a real chance at becoming a member of the firm. Mr. Ghosh had been too good to her not to comply with his request.

  When Carly noticed the sudden increase in her heart rate she realized her subconscious mind was flushing out the bottled up angst inside her chest. She was now beating the pavement somewhere in between a power walk and a jog. She and Roger had had more than a few run-ins already. She didn’t like confrontation and being bullied, but that seemed to be the way all the men in her life treated
her. Well, that was going to stop. Tomorrow was a new day, and she was going to make sure they all knew she would no longer take it. She was certain Mr. Ghosh would be supportive.

  Passing a stretch of buildings, she gave a casual wave as passersby walked toward the stairs of the subway. She didn’t know them personally, but they were familiar faces in the neighborhood.

  That’s when she saw him again. He was driving slowly down the street, close to the cars that were parked along the curb. His window was down and he was glaring at her. She averted her eyes and focused straight ahead, ignoring him and trying to get lost in the crowd, but he did what he always did. He was a defiant one regardless of the honking horns behind him. He intentionally stopped in between the parked cars for a short time just to stare at her. He wanted to make her nervous. Well, he had succeeded.

  Carly blew out another breath, wondering when he was ever going to stop and picked up her pace. Seeing his intimidating, deathlike stare was creeping her out. She’d blown him off before, but this seemed different somehow. She was regretting that she hadn’t changed her route after this morning’s encounter, but old habits die-hard and she had unconsciously set out in the same direction. Maybe she needed to hide, but where?

  Carly cut the corner short and escaped into an alleyway off Eighth Avenue and took comfort in knowing employees would be outside smoking cigarettes or emptying trash. She was certain they would help protect her. But what if they weren’t outside? She told herself, she’d go through their back doors. Surely the owners wouldn’t be upset with her for barging in. Carly said a silent prayer, hoping it wouldn’t come to that. Her heart pounded hard against the walls of her ribs. She began to run and panicked when she didn’t see anyone outside. Except for the peeping sound of the seagulls circling above the dumpsters, ready to swoop down for dinner, the silence was deafening. She pulled on the handle of the first door—it was locked. She pounded it with her fists hoping to be heard, but no one answered. Why had she chosen the alley? Why hadn’t she just stayed on the street? A million thoughts raced through her mind. The alley was too narrow for his car, that’s why.

  When she noticed the daylight quickly fading, she hoped the timing of the lights in the alley had been set in sync with the onset of dusk. She didn’t like the dark any more than her daughter Jennifer did. She breathed a sigh of relief when at that exact moment, the string of lights flashed on. It was as if some higher power was watching over her. As silly as it seemed, seeing those lights flip on was like seeing the lighting of the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center.

  A cat’s wail made her cringe. She tried another door, and another, but no one answered. Anxiety shot through her chest like an arrow meeting its intended mark. Her heart was pounding wildly inside her chest like the staccato of a washing machine with an uneven load. She told herself to calm down. She’d be okay. Carly convinced herself that he would be gone soon and she could turn around and go back home. She mentally shook her head and told herself she was being silly. He was gone. He was always gone after she ignored him. Tonight would be no different. She stopped to catch her breath. Placing her hands on her hips, she leaned forward and tried to relax, thankful she’d outfoxed him again. He just wanted to make her nervous. Mission accomplished—he did make her nervous, but she’d never let him see her sweat.

  She began to run again when she saw his unmistakable silhouette ahead. She gasped. He hadn’t driven off. He was standing at the end of the alley holding a gun aimed directly at her. There was no place to hide. Dressed in his usual black attire, this time he wore a ski mask that exposed only his eyes, but he couldn’t fool her. But why the mask?

  “Oh, God,” the words escaped her mouth and echoed in her ears. He was wearing a mask to hide his identity when he ran from the alley after he killed her. In a moment of panic, she turned around and began running in the opposite direction when she thought better of it. She staggered to a stop and momentarily froze in place unsure of what to do.

  “Stupid bitch,” he growled, “you can’t escape me this time.”

  In that split second, endless thoughts bombarded her mind about what to do next. Maybe if she looked him straight in the eyes, he might have second thoughts. Shooters hated to have their victims look at them. Could she trick him into believing she wanted to be with him just so she could knock the gun from his hands? Was she strong enough? Hardly.

  She called out to him, “C’mon sweetie, let’s talk.” Neither his facial expression nor his stance changed. He wasn’t buying it.

  “Too late now. I warned you about what would happen, but you didn’t believe me.” He released his familiar arrogant laugh. “You sure had me fooled into believing you for a while, but you’re just like all the rest, you lied to save your ass.”

  A sudden chill made her shiver.

  He wasn’t serious.

  He’d never pull that trigger.

  She was wrong.

  As if in slow motion, she watched his body bristle into a definitive stance. He aimed the barrel of his gun directly at her and fired off several rounds, each intentionally missing her. He was making her dance. After he’d had his fun, he hit his target right between the eyes. The sudden heavy impact sent her reeling backward onto the pavement like a rag doll. He rushed to her convulsing body and leaned over his prey. She took one last look at him before closing her eyes. In her diminishing lucid moments, she wasn’t sure what had happened. Everything seemed fuzzy, spacy. And then the sudden burst of fire spread through her brain, the hot scorching pain, burning, and exploding like a bomb. One final breath caught in the back of her throat. She released her final gasp and Carly Hawkins was silenced forever.

  He applauded himself, proud he’d shown her she couldn’t toy with his feelings. A second later, he heard a rustling sound and watched a rat scamper across the alley into the nearest dumpster. He smirked and let the rat dive deeper into what would be a massive food court for the animal. Realizing he was basking in the glow longer than he’d intended, he removed Carly’s coat and disappeared into the night. Nirvana rushed through his body and made him feel whole again.

  2

  DETECTIVES ZACH GERARD and Jessie Kensington pulled up to the crime scene. Generators lit the crime The alley was secured with yellow tape and orange cones setting a border that would prevent anyone who had no business being there from entering. Two uniformed officers stood guard to the large curious crowd gawking and straining to listen to the investigators.

  Zach released a groan. “Just what I need after a long day,” he complained.

  “Aren’t you sleeping well?” Jessie asked.

  He gave her an angry look. “That was a cheap shot,” he snapped.

  “Oh stop,” she said, “I was just trying—”

  “Trying to what? Make nice?”

  Disgusted, she quickly exited the vehicle and walked ahead of him, then held her badge in the air, and ducked under the tape. Seeing the familiar black blanket, she made her way over to the body. Eyeing the jagged halo of fresh blood still seeping out in the area of the victim’s head told her where she’d been shot.

  Jessie squatted down next to the body and pulled the blanket away from the victim’s face. Zach released a low whistle. “Boy, this poor woman really pissed someone off.”

  Hearing a familiar voice, they both turned. “Hey you guys,” Officer McQueen said. “I heard you two were partnering again. Good to see you.”

  “Yeah, you’d think we were a celebrity couple or something with the way the rumor mill operates in the NYPD. And just in case you were wondering, the answer is ‘no’ we’re not dating anymore. Isn’t that right, Jessie?” he said.

  Jessie sucked in her lower lip and gave Gerard a daggered look. Sarcasm shot out of her mouth like a machine gun. “You’re an asshole, you know that?” she said, quickly turned on her heels and headed in the opposite direction.

  “Geez,” McQueen said. “I’m sorry, Jessie. Honestly, I didn’t mean anything by what I said. I was just happy you guys were worki
ng together in our precinct.” But she was beyond earshot.

  Gerard shook his head. “Don’t worry about her. She’s grumpy. So it looks like you were the first officer on the scene.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good job of getting CSI here right away, McQueen. Thanks.”

  “I’m only doing my job.”

  “We appreciate your efforts. Okay, fill me in on what you know so far. Do we have a name for our victim?”

  “According to the witnesses, she’s Carly Hawkins and lives down the street somewhere. My guys are looking through the database for an address to notify the next of kin.” He motioned for Gerard to follow him out to the edge of the alley. “According to the witnesses, she also runs this same route in the mornings. The guy across the street,” he nodded toward the building, “who owns The Everyday Grind was able to give us her name from his credit card receipts.”

  “Did she have breakfast there this morning?”

  “No, the waitress who sees her every morning said she usually has breakfast there during the week before she goes to work.” He nodded toward the witnesses leaning against the building. “These two witnesses almost didn’t recognize her in regular street clothes. The female witness said she normally sees the victim jogging by in the mornings—the guy not so much because he works nights.” McQueen gestured for Zach to follow him back to where the body lay.

  “So why was he home tonight?” Zach asked.

  “He was actually on his way to work when he heard the shots in the distance.”

  “Oh, okay.” Turning back to the victim, “I noticed she’s wearing a wedding ring,” Zach said. “Is her husband here?”