Deadly Obsessions (Kensington-Gerard Detective series Book 3)

by K. T. Roberts

  He gave her a long hard stare. “Are you shitting me?” His brows furrowed. “What a dumb question. You never believe anyone would want to hurt you. What Academy did you train at?”

  “That wasn’t very nice.”

  “No, it wasn’t. I’m sorry.” He moved closer and gave her a supportive pat on the back. “As soon as they arrive, we’ll make one stop then head on over to the funeral. How many clothes do you have in the overnight bag in the car?”

  “So you believe me?”

  “Of course I believe you.” He shook his head. “Tate Kensington, I told you once before, fooling around with this kind of stuff is threatening to both of us. You should have called me last night.”

  She knew he was mad when he’d called her by her real name. “I didn’t call because you’d already told me you didn’t want me to come over to your house to discuss your father. I figured you didn’t need to be involved this time either.”

  “That’s a lame ass excuse and you know it. You could have gotten killed. Don’t you get that?”

  “I’m sorry.” She threw her hands up. “After watching that damn special, I thought I was just imagining it.”

  He just shook his head in bewilderment. “Was anything stolen?”

  She thought for a moment, then released a shocked expression. “Oh my god. I looked for my long black cashmere coat this morning and it wasn’t hanging in the closet, so I wore this coat instead. Why? Do you think whoever broke into my house stole my coat?”

  “Maybe you left it on the train last night?” he said with a nonchalant shrug.

  “Not if I was wearing it, I wouldn’t have.” She thought long and hard. “Can you stop so we can check the trunk? Changing outfits so many times for our crime scenes, maybe I left it there?”

  Zach pulled over to the side of the road and flipped the trunk open. “Nope. The only thing in there is our overnight bags.”

  “Holy shit!” When the team of investigators pulled up in front of the house, Jessie rushed over and filled in the details. “We have to go,” she said afterward, “If you need me, I can be reached on my cell,” she told the lead and handed him a card. “Before we leave though, can you check one thing for me? In the hall closet by the front door, can you see if there’s a long black coat hanging in there?”

  Five minutes later, the investigator appeared. “Jessie, there’s no coat fitting that description in the hall closet.”

  Jessie jerked her head back. She couldn’t fathom the idea that anyone was in her house while she was sleeping. “Thanks, Gary.” He gave a casual wave and returned to the task at hand. She stood gob smacked, praying she’d forgotten that she’d taken it to the dry cleaners, or that maybe she’d left it somewhere. Zach stood by, his lips tightened in a thin line.

  “C’mon, let them do their jobs. We have things we have to do.”

  As soon as Jessie snapped her seatbelt into place she began to rifle through her purse hoping to find a receipt. She hadn’t been anywhere else. At least she didn’t think so, but just the fact that she’d been tired and feeling down about Zach’s rejection, she could have just gone through the motions without even thinking about it. Could she have been that scatterbrained to forget something like that? She rubbed her forehead, confused and upset.

  “You’re searching frantically for something. What is it?”

  She flung her hand in the air. “It doesn’t matter…there’s nothing in here. I did wear that coat yesterday, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, Jessie,” he gave a slow nod, “you did.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “Listen, stop worrying. We’ll get to the bottom of this—we always do.”

  “But I feel so violated.”

  “I understand. C’mon, take a deep breath and let’s pay close attention to everyone at that funeral.”

  Zach reached over and touched Jessie’s hand. “Are you alright?” She nodded. “You don’t look okay.”

  “I’ll be fine. Really. Thank you for your concern.”

  “And you’re going to have your mind on what we’re doing?”

  “Yes. I promise.”

  He kept a close eye on her, and brought up the subject of their case. “I’m having a hard time figuring the commonality between Morton and this guy, whoever it turns out to be.” They stepped into the elevator at headquarters and pushed the up button. “I did another review on the Reaper last night to familiarize myself with his file. I remembered bits and pieces, like the fact that he kills only redheads—” He stopped dead in his tracks and looked at her. She stared right back at him. “Look, here’s the difference. He killed twenty-five women at random; Morton’s killing people he knows.”

  Jessie swallowed hard. “Do you think he was in my house?”

  “I don’t know, sweetheart, but whoever it is, we’re going to catch him. And you’ll be guarded 24/7, so you don’t need to worry. You’ll have an extra pair of hands to help.” He could see her eyes welling up with tears. “Jessie, I’ve never seen you like this. Just remember who you are. You’re a good cop, a sharpshooter, and you’re tough. You’re upset because it’s happening to you and I certainly understand that, but if you could step back and think of it as being someone else, you’re going to feel a whole lot better. It always feels different when it’s you.” He cupped her chin. “You’re going to be fine. I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.” She nodded and exited the elevator when the doors opened. “Okay, here’s what the profilers had to say about the Reaper. I’m not sure if this was part of the broadcast you watched, but they think he started killing at an early age.”

  “I guess I’m not surprised given his penchant for killing.”

  “This guy is one clever killer. It’s amazing that after killing twenty-five women no one has ever seen him. Just the fact that Ghosh’s daughter said our mystery man had dark hair and Melanie and Jackie said he had blond hair tells you he’s been changing his appearance all along.”

  “That’s if the Reaper is the mystery man. And maybe that’s why he kills them. No witnesses that way.”

  “But why would our mysterious man change his appearance if he didn’t have something to hide?” Jessie asked while they walked down the hall.

  “The statistics say chances are the Reaper did time in Juvie as a kid. But no one knows for sure. And if he did, they’re saying it provided the opposite affect rather than what the officials were expecting. But stealing coats? I suspect he was poor. Maybe he even lived in the slums of New York, or he could have been a vagrant.”

  “That certainly makes sense,” Jessie said.

  “Hey, are you Zach Gerard?” a stocky man asked, when he passed them in the hall.

  “Yes, you must be Tom Gunnerson.”

  “I am, but please call me Gunny.”

  “My partner, Jessie Kensington.”

  “I hear you think the Reaper’s back.”

  “We’re not sure, but we’re taking every precaution just in case.”

  “Well, if you need some help, call me.” He glanced down at the floor and shook his head. “If you knew how many nights we stayed up trying to find that bastard…it’s a shame he didn’t pop up again in our case. Tony and I hate that we’re not going to be the ones to take the bastard down.”

  “I understand, Gunny, but it happens to all of us.” Jessie was surprised when Zach’s response came off slightly aloof. It didn’t go unnoticed by Gunny who clamped his mouth shut, turned and walked away. Jessie couldn’t believe Zach’s tone had been so caustic, but she didn’t say anything.

  “Oh crap,” Zach said snapping his fingers. “I forgot Melanie and Jackie were coming in to view the books of mug shots.” Jessie strode ahead and found Melanie sitting at the long table looking through the pictures when they approached. “Does anyone look familiar?”

  “I wish I could tell you yes, but I’m not seeing anyone who looks familiar. Now, I did see someone in the book who could be him.” She flipped back to the section where she’d stuck a placeholder and pointed. “This guy s
eems to be closer to him—but it’s not him.”

  “Alright. You keep looking through the pictures. We don’t want you to point out someone because ‘he might’ be the person. It doesn’t work like that. I’ve scheduled an appointment with the sketch artist for you right after you’ve finished looking through the pictures.”

  Melanie looked at her watch. “I have a meeting at ten o’clock with my boss to go over my trip.”

  “Well, he’s going to have to wait,” Jessie shot back. “We do appreciate you taking the time, but this is a homicide we’re trying to solve here. If you’d like me to contact your boss to let him know, I can do that. A killing takes precedence over corporate money.” Melanie remained silent and kept her eyes fixed on the pages.

  “Now, look who’s sounding snarky,” Zach said in a low voice when they were a safe distance away.

  “Just doing my job. You told me to push it to the back of my mind, and I have.”

  He saluted. “And she’s back”

  She gave him a side glance and ambled to the department head to ask how Joanne’s session with the sketch artist had gone.

  “She was here on Friday,” he said. “The girl didn’t seem to find anything in the book either. But that’s not the first time. She sat with the sketch artist and passed it around to the members of her department, but we haven’t heard anything yet. It’s only been a few days though, so give it time. Let’s see what the second eyewitness comes up with. But don’t you worry, Jessie, we’ll find your guy.”

  “Thanks. After she meets with the artist, can you send those sketches to me via interoffice mail?”

  “Will do.”

  19

  JESSIE AND ZACH STOOD in the back of the church and cautiously scanned the crowd for anyone looking suspicious. When the last person had spoken on Carly’s behalf, the priest and altar boys waited for the pallbearers to lift the casket to lead the procession out to the cemetery. Organ music played Time to Say Goodbye. Harlan walked by himself, while Charlene and the two daughters followed two steps behind him, their eyes puffy and red from crying. Charlene glanced their way and mouthed a thank you.

  “I didn’t see anyone suspicious,” Jessie said. “I’m feeling really bad for Harlan though standing all by himself.”

  “Well Jessie, we don’t know what he did to cause all of this tension. He can be pretty abrasive at times.”

  “I know, but you’d think at a time like this, the family would have more unity.” When the church emptied, Zach and Jessie drove to the gravesite. Checking those standing at a distance was tedious. “Do you see anyone?”

  “Not unless they’re hiding behind a huge tree. Let’s wait to talk to the family, and then schedule an interview with the two daughters.”

  “Hello, beautiful!” he said looking at Jessie through binoculars. “You’re even more gorgeous in the daylight.” He smirked. “I love breaking in newbies, and this time, I sure lucked out with you my sweet lady.” He laughed under his breath. “And now you’re not sure who the killer is. Oh well, I guess you’ll just have to work harder. Don’t you just love a puzzle? I do. Oops, sorry you missed me, again.”

  He revved the engine of his vehicle, obviously trying to make sure he caught the two detectives’ attention and waited for them to run toward his car. Just as they reached the end of the lawn, he stepped on the gas and took off. They both ran into the street to get whatever information they could. Zach was repeating the details of the car to himself as he punched in the dispatcher’s number.

  “Suspect on the run, West 4th and Sheridan Square. Black Ford Crown Vic sedan, tinted windows. Partial plate, U. S. Government, and six numbers—two of them 32. I didn’t get the rest.”

  “Yes, sir.” He heard her dispatching the call as he disconnected.

  “Okay, let’s go back and pay our respects.”

  “You never responded to my question about your overnight bag. How many sets of clothes are in the bag?”

  “I have two sets of clothes. Funny, I normally only bring one set with me, but I was busy doing something else and just packed it. Maybe my subconscious mind knew something I didn’t?” She smiled. “You can drop me off at the Inn at City Island if you want.”

  “No. You’re coming home with me where I can keep an eye on you.” Her expression changed. He was quick to recognize her unease. “You can sleep in the bed; I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

  “Thank you, Zach.”

  20

  “I MEANT TO TELL you that I tried reaching Morton Sr. last night,” Zach said while driving back to the precinct.

  “What about the government car from the funeral?” Jessie asked.

  “They found the car pulled off on the side of the highway,” Zach said shaking his head in disgust. “And by the time the highway patrol discovered the vehicle everything had already been stripped off—no recognizable prints after the vultures got done with it.”

  “We just can’t catch a break, can we?”

  “It appears that way. As for Morton, Sr., I added him to the CPD list for protection even though we haven’t spoken.” He picked up the receiver of the phone. “While I’m thinking about it, I’m going to try him again.”

  Jessie opened her mouth to speak, but he raised his finger to stop her and punched in the phone number, nodding when the man answered. “Mr. Morton, my name is Zach Gerard from the NYPD. I’m calling about your son, Ralph.”

  “Like I told the other detective, I can’t help you. I haven’t seen him in years, nor do I want to see that loser.”

  “Which detective is that?” he asked.” Jessie sat erect when she heard him.

  “He woke me from a sound sleep, but I think he said his name was Joe something…Batters. Yeah, that’s it. Joe Batters, from the NYPD.”

  “I’m not familiar with his name, but then my partner and I are new to this precinct.” Zach said as a precaution, then scribbled the name on a piece of paper and shoved it over to Jessie who plugged the name into the database. “Are you sure he didn’t say CPD?”

  “No, that part was very clear. He said he was from the NYPD.”

  “Okay. I’ll check on that, but I’d like to apologize for the inconvenience. As a help to us though, we’d appreciate it if you would refrain from discussing this issue with anyone other than us. If he calls again, kindly ask him to call me at this number, 918-254-1389.”

  “Will do.”

  “The purpose of my call today is to tell you we are investigating your son. During our investigation, we searched his house and found a list of names. Two of the people on that list have been murdered. Now it could just be coincidence, but nevertheless, we’re warning everyone who’s listed to take every precaution they can.”

  “And you think Ralph did that?”

  “We don’t know, sir. We’re still trying to figure that out, but we’ve asked CPD to continue to provide protection for your safety.”

  “Why? Is my name on that list?”

  “Yes, sir it is.” Zach heard him gasp. “It may turn out to be nothing, but we’d still like to make sure you know. My partner and I are currently in New York, but we will be on our way to Connecticut within a day or so to talk to you. Do you have somewhere you can stay until we get there?”

  “No, dammit. My boys are working out of town today. They don’t talk to him either. Are they on the list too?”

  “What are their names?”

  “Raphael and Douglas.”

  “I’m afraid so. Are you and his mother still married?”

  “No, not for many years. Did you say you’re going to send someone over here to protect me?” he asked in a shaky voice.

  “You’ve already had protection as of last night, Mr. Morton. The CPDs have been outside your home all night watching your house.”

  “Phew,” he said, “that was very nice of you. I’m glad my tax dollars are paying off.” Zach heard Morton’s doorbell ring in the background. His heart kicked up hoping whoever was at his door was one of the good guys. “Check fir
st before you let anyone inside,” he cautioned.

  “I always do.” Zach heard him unlock the door, mumble something, then he came back on the phone. “It’s my neighbor bringing a cake over to my house. She’s got the hots for me,” he said in a low voice and made Zach laugh.

  “Good for you. We’ll keep in touch.” They disconnected. “Mr. Morton is getting a little action on the side,” Zach said.

  “No kidding?”

  “His neighbor is makin’ the moves on him.” Zach cracked a grin. “So, who is Joe Batters? The name sounds familiar to me, but I’m not sure why.”

  “Our mystery man is making sure we’re onto him. Joe Batters was the nickname used for Mafia boss, Tony Accardo, who died in 1996.”

  “Yeah, as if the coat fetish wasn’t enough to deal with, now we’ve got a smart ass who thinks he knows more than we do.”

  “Well, he has so far, but we’re not really sure it’s the Reaper anyway. I think we should focus on Ralphie boy, and if something more comes up on the Reaper, we’ll address that when we have to,” Jessie said.

  “Yeah, he may have outfoxed us so far, but not for long. No creep is going to come into my girlfriend’s—” He stopped talking when Jessie smiled at him. “I’m sorry; force of habit.” His face flushed and he changed the subject. “I do remember the name, Joe Batters. His peers gave him that moniker when he was first inducted into the regime as an enforcer. He made his mark by being proficient at using the bat…and it had nothing to do with baseball. Although, once he became the kingpin of the Chicago syndicate, no one ever said his nickname in his presence.” Zach’s face took on a state of confusion. “Based on what we know about Morton; do you see him as a jokester?”

  “No. I think he sounds like a depressed maniac.”

  Walking past Morgan’s cubicle, Jessie noticed the girl practically breaking her neck trying to see him

  “She really has a thing for you, hotshot.”