Deadly Obsessions (Kensington-Gerard Detective series Book 3)

by K. T. Roberts

  “Thank you.”

  Jessie checked with the records department and found Gott had been officially charged with the death of Victoria Russell, who had turned out to be a prostitute but had gotten off, despite interviews with the various commanding officers. One of Gott’s closest buddies in the military said after Gott’s initial guilt feelings had subsided over the killing of innocent people in the villages during combat situations, he suddenly turned the killings into somewhat of a game and actually began to enjoy it. At the attorney’s objection, and the judge’s agreement, his testimony was based on speculation, and thrown out because Gott never actually said those words to him.

  Jessie sat back in her chair, her head resting against the back, her arms crossed and thinking about Gott when one of the guys approached.

  “Hey Jessie, you still here?”

  “Yeah, I had a lot of research to do and since my partner isn’t here, I figured I’d put in the time.”

  “I understand, but it’s late. C’mon, a bunch of us are going to the Sidecar for a few beers.”

  “That does sound good.” She sighed. “Alright, let me put all this stuff away and I’ll head on over. I’ll meet you there. Thanks for asking.” She smiled as he walked away, happy they were finally being accepted as one of the ‘guys’ in the department and it probably had something to do with Ralph Morton’s take down. Besides, she really needed to unwind, and the Sidecar was in and out just the place to do it. A bar where all her peers gathered after work for a drink—a place that made her feel safe. She locked her desk and headed to the elevator, and dialed Zach to give him an update while she waited for the doors to open.

  29

  HE WATCHED the pretty detective walk out of the precinct and over to her car. “Finally!” He said with relief. His excitement spiraled out of control watching her pull out of the garage. Rushing to his car, this was his chance. Despite his excitement, he cautioned himself that he might be recognized if he didn’t do a complete makeover. He tried to remember what disguises he’d used before. His mind blanked. It didn’t matter; he’d check the list. If there was one thing he knew, it was accurate record keeping was paramount to his freedom to continue his quest. When he noticed Jessie park in the lot at the Sidecar, he parked a safe distance away and pulled out his suitcase to check his list. Maybe he’d use the red wig tonight, but for sure, tonight was the best night to have her. With her boyfriend in a hospital bed two and a half hours away, she’d be alone. Yes, he’d waited long enough. Tonight was the night he’d have his special lady.

  He popped the trunk of his vehicle and pulled Amy’s body out, carefully carrying her into a darkened backyard, then quietly pried the trunk open of the car parked in the driveway of the house adjacent to the bar and carefully tucked her body inside. He glanced at her lifeless body and wished he didn’t have to end her life the way he did, but she knew the end was near. Thinking back to her capture, at first she’d pretended to be strong and he thought he was about to have some fun. But the bitch quickly acquiesced. He sneered remembering her falling down in the fetal position and shoving her thumb in her mouth to suck on it like she was two years old. He rolled his eyes with disgust. Even after he’d stabbed her in the thigh the first time, she whimpered. She didn’t even cry for him to stop, she simply accepted her fate as though it was a blessing in disguise. And maybe it was. But she ruined his game…and that’s when he shot her right between the eyes to put her out of her misery.

  He snorted. Once the media got wind of another dead body, the newspaper would continue to profile him as a monster—someone who killed for the sport of it. Too bad they’d never know he was really a nice guy, your favorite ice cream guy playing the music and waiting for the mothers to bring the kiddies to the window. And then he’d watch where they walked. Funny thing is they never knew what was coming, nor did they suspect him. The ones that treated their kids badly were the first to go. He did those kids a favor.

  He’d been searching for a tough one—someone to fight back and not make it so easy for him. That would be the one. That beautiful detective—yeah, now she was the one. He wished he’d thought of it earlier. She was perfect. She was the one who would send him over the edge and into oblivion.

  And then, Carly came to mind. Nah, she wouldn’t have fought back either if he’d had been the one to kill her. She’d allowed her stupid husband to bully her all those years. Things would have been different if she’d married him. He was glad she was dead. Morton did him a favor. What he didn’t like was Morton pretending to be him because he didn’t have the guts to claim his own identity. At first, he’d taken Morton’s copycat tactics as flattering. But after thinking about it, he realized, Morton was getting all the glory. But not anymore. No killing was ever official until he autographed it in blood. Yeah, he was glad Morton was dead too. What he did like, though, is it helped him get his name in the news again, but that didn’t happen until he killed Carly’s daughter, Jennifer. That was the last time he was giving up his own identity by allowing someone else to take the credit. That’s why he’d left his autograph. He wanted everyone to know he killed that kid who was always sticking her friggin’ hand out for money. Yeah, he was glad Jennifer was dead too.

  He pictured Jessie. But this one…this beautiful detective with the long auburn hair and curvaceous body . . . yeah, she was keeping him up at night. He already knew she was a real fighter. She’d fight to the end to take her man down. He quickened his pace toward the bar, the excitement running through his veins at an alarming rate—yes, she was coming home with him tonight.

  Jessie made her way into the crowded bar and the first person she saw was Guardino, who raised his hand in the air to let her know where they were sitting. A waitress rushed by with a tray of burgers and onion rings that wafted up Jessie’s nose and had her stomach growling. She hadn’t realized she was so hungry, but that was nothing new. Mike was the first to ask about Zach. Unable to communicate with the loud background noise, she gestured for him to come with her a few feet away. She was anxious to know if he’d been approached by IA yet, and wondered what kind of questions they’d asked about Zach’s foolish attempt at trying to calm Ralph Morton down. Mike and Zach had come up through the ranks since they’d met at the Police Academy and had remained friends.

  “Every day is getting a little better,” she said. “He has a long way to go yet, but at least he’s alive and then,” she shrugged, “we’ll see where we go from there. His doctor couldn’t give me a definitive answer about the functionality of his arm going forward. He may have to change professions.” Her mouth curled in a downward slant. “And you know Zach is the last person to be a pencil pusher…but if the use of his arm is hindered,” she threw her hands in the air, “he may not have a choice. He also mentioned he might be in lot of pain from time to time—I guess depending on the weather.”

  “That’ll kill him. I’ll give him a call tomorrow and see how he’s doing. I don’t want to disturb him, but I don’t want to leave him hanging either. I still can’t imagine what he was thinking.”

  I know, Mike, but you know, if he didn’t think he could have pulled it off successfully, he wouldn’t have taken the chance. Have you heard from IA yet?” She looked at him quizzically.

  “Not yet, but you know it’s coming. I’m not going to say anything, if that’s what that worried look was about, and I know Farino won’t either.”

  “He wouldn’t want any of us to lie for him, but I know him, he had a plan.”

  Guardino agreed with a nod. “C’mon, let me buy you a beer.”

  “Actually, I don’t want a beer. What I want is a diet cola.” She laughed. “I haven’t had one in a while and I need a caffeine fix in the worst way.”

  “What? You’re not drinking enough of that sludge at the office?”

  “Apparently not.”

  They made their way over to the bar together. “I decided to stop and have a drink before going home,” he explained. “The in-laws are in town and I’m procras
tinating as long as I can.”

  Jessie laughed, took her soda and together they walked back to the table. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to happen with Zach’s job, but for sure IA was going to question everyone—including her. She grabbed a chair from another table and positioned it so she was watching the door, and listened to the guys discuss their cases that quickly turned to complaining about their latest girlfriends and their demands. That was the last thing she was interested in hearing about tonight, but if she wanted to fit in, she had to act like she was one of the guys. Half listening, she scanned the bar, looking for unfamiliar faces. Everyone appeared to be a regular, except for the one man who’d entered a few minutes earlier, and was now staring at her. An uneasy feeling attacked her, but she ignored it and continued to scan. Maybe it was just her frame of mind. Curious about him, she walked over to the bartender and quietly asked if the man looked familiar to him.

  “No. He’s never been in here during my shift. Why? Is he bothering you? I can ask him to leave.”

  “No, that won’t be necessary. Thanks,” she said and walked back to the table and continued to keep an eye on him. It seemed every time she turned to check on him, he was staring at her. His ruddy complexion against his wiry red hair, mustache and bushy brows that stuck straight up above the frames of his horn-rimmed glasses made him look like a mad scientist, except he had a strong muscular frame which is the last thing a scientist would have. When Jessie noticed a gun strapped to his hip, she was curious and decided to get a better look at him. Squeezing in between him and another regular at the bar, he seemed happy she came over. He gave her a sexy smile. “Can I buy you a drink,” he asked.

  She held up her soda. “No, I’m good. Thanks though.” It wasn’t until he looked at her straight on that she noticed the intensity of his green eyes. There was something about those eyes…and then she remembered what Jackie had said earlier. Yeah, she knew this guy. She’d been looking at his picture all day. Her hand automatically went to her hip. “I haven’t seen you in here before,” she said. “Are you new to the city?”

  “Nor have I seen you in here.”

  “Are you a regular?” she asked waiting to see if he’d lie.

  “No. But I’ve seen you.”

  “Where?” she asked in a sexy voice trying to keep the conversation going to be certain she had the right suspect.

  “Oh, you know, here, there and around.”

  “How flattering. Seriously, where have you seen me?”

  “Walking in and out of your precinct. I saw you at Carly Hawkins’ funeral.”

  “You were there?”

  “I was. I guess that means you didn’t see me.”

  “I’m sorry. I guess I didn’t. I’ve just had an extremely long day and my brain is fried. So please forgive me if I don’t respond correctly. I’m not myself these days.”

  “How’s your boyfriend doing?”

  “You mean, my partner?”

  “Oh, is that what he is?” he asked giving her a side-glance. “So how’s he doing? I saw his picture in the newspapers.”

  “He’s fine. Thank you.”

  “You know he’s all wrong for you, don’t you?”

  “Really? And how would you know that?”

  “I know everything about you, Jessie. More than you can imagine.”

  “How do you know my name?”

  “Like I said, I know everything about you.”

  “So how long have you been following me?” she asked.

  “I don’t know that you could call it following, per se. Let’s just say, I’ve admired you from afar.” Jessie’s heart was pounding louder than thunder, but she wasn’t giving up on this little charade until she brought Stanley Gott down. Without even thinking, she tossed her soda into his eyes.

  He covered both eyes with his hands. “You bitch,” he shouted. It gave her just enough time to secure his gun. She held it on him. “What’s the matter, you afraid to fight me?” he asked, taunting her.

  “I guess we’re gonna find out, aren’t we?” Jessie moved toward him. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Someone who’ll fight back?”

  “Yeah, I like a woman who fights back.”

  “I’ll just bet you do.”

  “But I don’t think hiding behind a gun is a strong woman. It makes you weak.” He grinned and lunged for her, but he missed when she moved back. The bar suddenly became silent. Customers sitting or standing nearby backed away into the corner. All eyes were upon them. Word spread quickly and every person in law enforcement pulled out his gun, took the stance and prepared to fire.

  “Give it up,” Guardino said.

  “You shut the fuck up,” Gott said and grabbed a beer bottle off the bar and flung it at Jessie. She ducked, but the corner of the bottle clipped the top of her eye and took a chunk of skin with it. Blood ran down her face like hot lava. She tried to wipe it, but it hurt too much. His face broke into a half smile filled with pride. “You really think you can take me down, bitch?” Stanley snorted, obviously enjoying the challenge. “You’re a dead woman.”

  “Look around you, Mr. Gott, you’re surrounded by every cop in this bar. Do you really think you’ll get out of here alive?”

  “Oh, I’ll get out of here. I’ve done it many times.”

  “So you have, but this time, you made one very bad mistake. You’ve chosen the wrong woman to follow—me. Did you really think those disguises were going to work?”

  He didn’t respond but it was obvious anger was building inside his chest because his breathing labored. He lunged for her again and this time, she shoved the bar stool into his gut and knocked him down to the floor. He rolled over in an instant and tried to grab her gun and that’s when Mike stepped in.

  “Give it up, Stanley,” Mike Guardino shouted, but Gott ignored him and started swinging his arms trying to grab Jessie. Her hand automatically grabbed another drink off the bar and threw it into his eyes before he could stop her. In a swift takedown, the ten detectives leapt forward and had Gott in a stronghold that brought him down to his knees. When the cuffs clicked into place, they pulled him to his feet. “Stanley Gott, you have the right…

  “Are you okay, Jessie?” Mike asked.

  “I am now.” She released a deep cleansing breath now that the excitement was over. “Boy Mike, you have to write a report now.” She grinned. “It looks like you’ll do anything to find an excuse so you don’t have to see the in-laws.”

  His face cracked into a toothy grin. “Hey, what can I say?” He raised his palm in the air, “a guy’s gotta do, what a guy’s gotta do.”

  Leaving the bar with Guardino and Gary, the driver of the flatbed who Mike had called earlier to take Gott’s car to the impound garage, they walked side-by-side with Jessie who held the key fob in her hand. “Okay car, where are you,” she said. She hit the emergency button and set off the alarm in Gott’s car that was somewhere in the distance.

  “You hear that?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” the men said in unison. “I think the sound is coming from over there,” Mike pointed.

  “Then, that’s where we go.”

  “Do we know where this cat lives?” Mike asked.

  “No, and I’m pretty certain there won’t be a registration in the glove compartment because when I checked him out through the DMV, his driver’s license had expired and hadn’t been renewed in over five years. I’m hoping the investigators find something in the car that will give us that information.” Jessie was relieved to see flashing lights in the distance. “It looks like we’ve found it, Gary.” She pushed the air from her lungs and hit the key fob again to unlock the doors.

  Gary gestured with his flashlight beckoning his crew to drive the truck to where they stood. Jessie and Mike stood on the sidelines and watched the truck pull up and load the car onto the flatbed. Jessie blew out a hefty breath of air.

  “I’ll bet your real glad this is over,” Guardino said. Crowds and media were gathering like a stampede trying to find o
ut all the facts. “They’ll be hounding you for an interview in a few minutes, Jessie. You’re a star, you know that?”

  She laughed. “Yeah, I’m a pretty exhausted star right now, but thanks for the sentiment. Talking to them…not happening. That’s my Captain’s job.”

  When the team of investigators congregated at Stanley Gott’s apartment prepared to do their search, Jessie and Morgan entered with them. The first thing Jessie noticed was a large shadow box with what appeared to be his most important trophy--a leopard coat on the wall. Before being able to take a good look, one of the investigators called out to her.

  “Wait until you get a load of this room,” he said.

  She walked down the hall at a fast clip. What she saw overwhelmed her and she gasped, her mouth wide open in surprise. The room was a shrine dedicated to those women he’d killed on one wall, another wall dedicated to Carly Hawkins and the last wall, photographs of her. Her hand clasped against her chest as she moved in closer to get a better look. When she saw a photograph of her sleeping, she gasped. “That son-of-a-bitch was in my house.” She swallowed hard, her eyes filled with tears. “Oh God. I knew someone was watching me.” Just the thought made a chill ripple down her spine. Her hand went to her cheek in disbelief as she tried to take in the magnitude of what this man had been capable of doing. Hearing sounds coming from the room, Morgan rushed in.

  “Oh, Jessie. How frightening. Thank God this guy is in jail. We always think we’re invincible never admitting we’re just as vulnerable as everyone else.” Morgan spun around in a circle looking at Gott’s handiwork. On the wall that contained his tribute to Carly, stood a devotional church stand filled with LED votive candles that flickered brightly like the eternal lights on JFK’s grave, the lights creating shadows that danced on the wall behind like a ballerina’s performance. “Look at this stuff,” Morgan said, “this guy was freakin’ scary! His victims must have been terrified.”