She glared at Annalise with enough rage burning in her eyes to kill. “I have nothing left to live for!”
“You do. You still have your life.”
“My children were my life—”
Annalise witnessed Terry’s eyes becoming empty as her body convulsed. Tapping on her comms, she urged for an ambulance to come and rushed to find a clean towel that she could use to wrap around the woman’s arm.
“Terry, you have to tell me who is behind this.”
She didn’t look at Annalise, didn’t even acknowledge her presence as she said, “Robert did this. Robert killed us all.”
Annalise frowned. “Robert is dead.”
She shook her head violently. “Dead. Not dead. He killed us. He killed our children.”
“It’s alright. Hush now. Try to get some rest until the medics get here.”
Mrs Fern bobbed her head and closed her eyes. As Annalise tried moving away, Terry’s healthy arm shot out, keeping her there.
“Don’t go,” she whispered.
“Okay, I’ll stay here. I’m sorry.”
Terry relaxed and draped her arm over her stomach.
Ten minutes went past. Since she had nothing to do, Annalise kept staring at her wrist comms. Where was the ambulance? Where was Jamen? The response time should be ten minutes and it was pushing fifteen. She studied the girls again. They were so young. Who would do such an atrocious thing to this family? First, the false evidence at her apartment and now Terry’s children had been killed off and their mother was assaulted. Did this woman know something she wasn’t telling her? Were the kids killed because of Robert?
She heard the sirens drawing close, and her relief escaped in a form of a strained giggle. A moment later, the car doors slammed outside. Hurried footsteps came from the entrance of the bungalow.
“Storm, are you in here?” Jamen called out.
“I’m in the second bedroom,” she shouted and watched Terry’s eyes bulging out of their sockets as she stared at the door.
“It’s alright, help is here.”
Jamen burst into the room with Calla close behind. He briefly glanced at the victims before his eyes settled on Annalise. “What the hell happened here?”
Annalise stood up. “I’ll explain everything in a minute. Where are the paramedics?”
Jamen glanced at Calla, and she left the room. He edged to the bed where he leant down, checking on the sole survivor. “What happened?”
Terry shot him a glare and grasped Annalise’s hand. “Go away!”
“The ambulance was right behind us,” Jamen informed.
Annalise assisted her into a standing position. “I’ll bring her out. Look after the—” She was about to say ‘bodies’ but refrained. “Look after the girls.”
Terry gave her an eager nod.
Noting that the woman was unbalanced on her feet, Annalise draped Terry’s good arm over her shoulders and planted her hand on the small of the woman’s back to steady her. “Please, come this way…”
They left the room, and two DPD officers approached them. “Ma’am we’ll take you to the ambulance. It just arrived.”
Terry’s wary eyes shifted between them. She obviously didn’t trust anyone on the police force. Did an officer do this to her?
Annalise waved at the young officers. “It’s fine. I’ll take her.”
The men moved out of their way.
She led Terry to the hallway and, eventually, through the front door, dodging the chatting officers and technicians who piled into the bungalow with equipment. Outside, thick, charcoal-grey clouds drifted over from the East, taking away what little morning sunshine Divinity had. The wind had picked up its speed, cooling the surrounding air.
Terry shivered, and Annalise hastened the pace to the ambulance parked a few cars down the road.
Calla stood next to a blonde Emergency Medical Technician. They were arguing when the EMT saw their approach and ran over to them.
Annalise helped her guide Terry to the back of the vehicle.
At the orders of the EMT, Mrs Fern lay on the stretcher and blankly stared at the ceiling of the ambulance.
“I have to go now.” Annalise gave her hand a squeeze.
Terry briefly glanced at her with such emptiness, Annalise wasn’t sure this woman would survive the day. After the loss of her husband, she appeared unstable. Now, she seemed broken inside and out.
She let her go and turned to the EMT. “Look after her.”
“Will do.”
Calla took this chance to follow her across the lawn. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. The victim didn’t tell me anything useful. She blames her deceased husband for whatever happened here.”
Calla grabbed her elbow and jerked her backwards, forcing Annalise to a halt. “This doesn’t look good, Storm. Your beast is a suspect, and now you find a crime scene just like that? What were you doing here in the first place?”
The area where Calla held on to her burned a little. Whether she wanted to read her emotions or induce new ones, Annalise did not trust her enough to allow her touch to remain. She shook her off. “I didn’t give you permission to use your ability on me, Calla.”
She smirked. “Until we get the evidence we need, you are also a suspect, Detective.”
Annalise fought not to roll her eyes. “If I was the one who killed those girls, I’m sure Terry would not trust me enough to walk beside her.”
“Calla, what are you doing?” Jamen called from the entrance.
She pursed her lips and faced him. “Just talking to Annalise.”
He strode over, his hands burying in his jeans pockets. “Are you going to tell us what happened here?”
This time, she did roll her eyes. He and Calla had the same personality and lack of trust. “I came here last night because I couldn’t sit still after the CSU swept my apartment for Mavel’s things. I wanted to ask Mrs Fern a few questions. When I arrived, it was still the middle of the night, so I waited in my car until Hopps called me. That’s when I found Terry and her daughters. The end.”
Jamen nodded, and Calla crossed her arms.
“Did she say who did it?” he asked.
“She kept blaming her dead husband.”
“Maybe that man was into something the investigation didn’t uncover.”
“Or she finally lost it,” Calla added.
Annalise glared at her. “That woman has been through enough. You have no right to badmouth her.”
She lifted her hands. “Relax. I was only suggesting a possibility that she is not of a sound mind. Like you said, she had only a dead husband to blame for it all.”
“No,” Annalise said. “She couldn’t have done it. When I found her, Mrs Fern had been restrained as well.”
“That’s kind of kinky.” Calla snickered.
Jamen didn’t seem happy with her response. “Calla…”
She broke eye contact with Annalise to stare at him. They seemed to pass yet another silent message between them. Calla rolled her shoulders and headed back to his car.
“Alright, Storm, let’s get on with it.”
He led her back into the house. The officers had already erected a holo-barrier around the bungalow, keeping the prying eyes of the neighbours away. She was thankful for their efficiency. It did not feel right for the children to be ogled by so many curious bystanders who came out for some morning drama.
While the CSU swept the bedroom, she stood in the living room. The photos of the once happy family were a painful reminder that crime could tear anything good apart: family, friends, beast and master.
She took the photo frame with Robert and his family smiling at the camera. The two girls were grinning from ear to ear, their energy and life reflected in the depths of their matching eyes. To keep from tearing up, she put the picture frame back and moved onto the next. This one was taken at a pool, most likely somewhere in the Silver District, judging by the lavish architecture and furniture around the poolside.
Topless, Robert squatted and hugged his two daughters. One of the daughters pouted, and the other’s expression betrayed her mirth. Robert’s baggy navy shorts rode up to his upper thighs and an outline of a tattoo peeked out from underneath.
She squinted, trying to figure out what the tattoo was of but couldn’t make it out the blurry shape. The DPD still hadn’t recovered his lower half which could provide them with more clues. There had to be a reason why they only found half of him. This made her recall Hopps’ call from earlier. Could the tattoo be something he and Steinberg shared? Was that why Steinberg was missing a piece of his thigh?
Using her wrist comms, she took a picture of the photograph. Somehow, Robert did not seem like the kind of man who would get a tattoo on a whim. He was a dedicated father. He worked for his children to go to a school in Silver. Such actions spoke volumes.
“Found anything?” Jamen asked from behind her.
“Nothing useful.”
“Well, by the looks of it, the two girls died from asphyxiation. Judging by the hand prints on their necks, the suspect is male. We’ll get more results after Hopps gets a hold of the bodies.”
Jamen turned on his heel, but she grasped his leather jacket’s sleeve. “Do you think Mavel killed Steinberg?”
He didn’t turn around. “I don’t think Mavel is someone stupid enough to be caught on camera if he wanted to have someone murdered. He works at the HPD and, therefore, he knows how the system works.”
Her hand fell away and her palm pressed to her chest. She wasn’t the only one who thought he wasn’t guilty of the crime. Annalise opened her mouth to speak and stopped. There was no way she could tell him about the bloodied clothes in her apartment. Although she believed someone had planted them when the maintenance occurred in the Tower, there wasn’t any guarantee Jamen wouldn’t change his tune about Mavel’s innocence.
He peered over his shoulder. “Anything else?”
“I am glad we are on the same page.”
“I will stay behind and question the neighbours if they saw anything suspicious. You should return to the station and write a statement. Try to remember if you’ve seen anything odd since you spent the night outside her home. Afterwards, head to the hospital and question the victim. She seems to trust you.”
“Wait. Have you heard anything about Dawson?”
He faced her, his expression unreadable. “Didn’t you hear? He was found dead in the Divinity Park last night. That’s why it took us so long to respond to your call. We were already at another crime scene with Reed, the other M.E.”
A dizzy spell hit her when his words sank in, and Jamen caught her. Dawson was dead—the only man who could be responsible for these unreasonable murders.
“H-how did he die?”
“Same way Steinberg and Fern passed away—a possessed beast attack.”
19
The Truth About Landon’s
With Dawson out of the picture, who is left? Annalise scratched her head as she drove along the highway towards the DPD. Her case was a mess. The more she thought she knew who was at fault, the less truth was in that statement. This couldn’t possibly be one person, could it? Whoever was behind this madness—these deaths—had to be someone important or with enough power to pull it off. But, the way the victims died bothered her.
The faded mumble of the reporter on the radio reminded her of Mavel. An image of him standing in her kitchen, listening to the morning report drifted into her mind, and she vowed she would see him soon.
Chief had no reason to keep Mavel in custody. Not when Dawson died in the same way as the others. Yet, her gut told her otherwise. If he had been freed, he would have called her. There would be news of some kind. And, with complete radio-silence from her boss, she knew that Mavel was still a suspect.
Annalise turned up the volume on her radio. A female reporter’s modulated voice flooded the car. “…Dawson, an Anti-Modded activist, was found dead in the Divinity Park last night, only a day after James Steinberg’s murder. The DPD officials are currently looking into this spree of killings but, based on our sources, these attacks were committed by a possessed beast…”
“Damn it!” She slammed her palms against the steering wheel hard enough for an error to appear in the corner of the windscreen, asking her if she wanted to stop. Unable to hold her rage in, she spat out another curse. Leaking that information gave them more ammunition against the modded.
Her wrist comms beeped with an incoming call. “Mum, this isn’t a very good time…”
“Have you seen my car? The tracking device says it’s entering Silver.”
Annalise cringed. “Yeah, sorry I took it without informing you. I had to borrow it for a bit. Something came up.”
“Is something the matter? You don’t sound too good.”
“The case I’m working on is stressful, that’s all.”
“I heard Mavel killed Steinberg. You shouldn’t blame yourself.”
Not another one. She gritted her teeth. “Mavel didn’t kill anyone. He’s being set up!” she half-shouted, making her words bounce around the enclosed space.
Annalise didn’t need to be in the room with her mother to visualise her pity as she said, “I’m sure that’s the case. He seemed like such a nice beast.”
“Mum…” She sighed. Her head was heavy, and she was in need of coffee, badly. “I don’t have time to explain. I will program your car to go home when I collect mine from the City Hall.”
“Wait, Annalise. There is a matter we must discuss when you get back tonight. Your father and I have something to tell you.”
She tried to measure the gravity of her mother’s words. They seemed loaded with hidden meanings and this ‘matter’ Annalise was sure she wasn’t going to enjoy discussing. Mustering all the patience she could, she asked, “Can’t you tell me now?”
“Tonight, dear. Call to our apartment around eight.”
Regina ended the call, and Annalise stared at the road ahead. What is so important for them to want to meet with such urgency?
Ten minutes later, she parked the car in front of the DPD. Time seemed to move slowly as she passed through the scanners and rushed for the closing lift.
Rios grinned through the gap and held the door open for her.
“Heard your case is getting busy,” he said as she slipped inside.
Annalise quirked a brow in a silent question. Did everyone in Divinity know about my case?
He chuckled. “Anyone involved in your case seem to be dying like flies. You should be careful.”
She leant back against the steel wall, folding her arms. “I honestly thought Dawson was behind it all…”
Rios planted a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Hey, it’s your first case. Be glad Jamen is working it with you. He’s good at solving puzzles.”
“I don’t know. He seems hard to approach, and Calla is eager to blame this whole thing on Mavel.”
The doors opened, and when she moved forwards, Rios shifted his hand to her lower back. “He may seem stone-faced, hard to handle, boring, yawn inducing, physically less attractive than me, but Jamen is a good guy. He won’t blame someone until there’s concrete evidence against them.”
His hand fell away, and a ghost of a smile stretched her lips. “Thank for your insight, Rios.”
He winked. “Anytime, babe. I’m here for you, day and night. You just have to holler my name, and I’ll be at your service.”
Too tired to argue, she followed him to the HPD office. Chief stood in the middle of it, talking to a small group of officers. His eyes met hers, and he waved for the officers to leave.
He stormed over, his eyes blazing. “Why is it every time you leave this building someone dies?”
Annalise rooted her feet. “I also want an answer to that question, sir.”
He stopped in front of them, huffing something under his breath. “Storm, I think you are a promising kid. I respect you and the work you do, but I am torn. Your father wants you off this case.”
/>
Her mouth slackened. “What has my father got to do with this?”
“He called me this morning after they found Dawson’s body. He doesn’t want you near a case with so many dead people. It may be bad for his publicity.”
“Looks like you have Daddy issues to deal with,” Rios chimed in.
Annalise glowered at him. “My father has nothing to do with this!” She raised her chin up high, facing her boss. “You can’t take me off the case. I need to finish it!”
Chief measured her with his penetrating gaze. His lips slowly upturned into a full-blown grin. “I was right about you, Storm. You are a force to be reckoned with, which is why you’re still working the case. Catch the ones behind it already, so we can all celebrate your acceptance into our little dysfunctional family.”
“Chief, I…”
He waved her words away and wandered back into his private office.
Rios slapped her playfully on the back. “Looks like Sunderland likes your spirit.”
She couldn’t hold back the smile that fought to the surface. A fuzzy feeling filled her heart and warmed her soul. Is this what acceptance feels like? Immobile, she stood there for longer than was necessary, staring at the Chief’s glass door. His words replayed in her mind like a mantra to urge her on.
Des came out of the canteen and tapped Annalise on the shoulder. “There’s something I need to show you.”
“What is it?”
Des pulled her to the nearby terminal, pushing Annalise into the seat. “Log in.”
“Where are you going with this?”
“Just do as I say!”
Annalise shook her head and scanned her comms over the desk, activating her work terminal.
Des pushed her hands out of the way and opened her current case file. She clicked on the image of Robert Fern, and her expression turned sour. “It’s been bugging me for a while, and I finally know where I’ve seen this man.”
Rios sauntered over to them. He peered past Annalise’s head, and Des brought up their case file.
“Des, that’s our case,” he said. “You’re not supposed to show it—”
“It’s not just our case. Look…” She clicked on the file.
Case: 0 (Annalise Storm Chronicles Book 1) Page 15