Deadly Games

by Alexis Kennedy

  “I understand,” I calmly assured him. “We’ll notify the Missing Persons Division to keep looking for her. Is there any place she may have stopped off at before meeting her sister at the zoo?”

  The distraught man wiped his wet eyes. “I don’t know. You’ll be better off to ask Dominique about that. She only told me about the zoo.”

  I thanked him for his time and told him we’d be in touch once we found anything out. He agreed to go home to his son and wait for our call.

  I spoke to Jamie Tinsley in Missing Persons and told him to question the sister and to get the search dogs back out in Forest Park. When I got back to my desk, Liam was on the phone with the M.E. When he hung up, he rubbed his hand over his jaw and told us something we didn’t want to hear.

  “The identity of our victim has been established. She’s Larissa Ray from Shrewsbury, and she was reported missing by her husband two weeks ago. Chris says she had an empty digestive tract, and she exhibited signs of malnourishment. Some of the cuts are older than others, and there’s also burn marks on the soles of her feet. Cause of death is exsanguination. However long this jackoff had her, he was putting her through torture.”

  Marisol raised an eyebrow at me. “Still glad you joined us?”

  I leveled my gaze at her and slowly nodded. “Yeah. I want to catch this bastard.”

  HE FLAUNTED HIS superiority in front of the broken woman, pacing in circles around her like a lion circling a wounded elk. She continued to beg for her life, but it fell on deaf ears, not that he would kill her now. No, he needed time with his new plaything before she became disposable. He needed time to fully understand her suffering.

  He took another drag on the cigarette before blowing out rings that stretched around her, making her cough.

  “I know. It’s a nasty habit, isn’t it?” He spoke to her like they were old friends. “I really should quit or pick up a new vice.” He sank down in front of her and lifted her quivering foot off the cold floor. “Do you know what my father did to me when I was a child?”

  “No,” she sobbed almost too quietly for him to hear.

  “When I was bad, which I guess was fairly often, my father, the chain-smoker, would use me as his ashtray. Here, let me show you.” He put the cigarette out on the bottom of her foot, and her cries of pain made him smile with narcissistic pleasure. He set her foot back down and rose to face her. “I learned to cope with the pain, though. In fact, I learned to use it.” He reached for a cup of water and thrust the straw toward her trembling lips. “Take a drink.” She obeyed and took several gulps before he pulled the cup away from her. “That will have to do for now. I don’t have supper for two.”

  He sat down at a small table he had set up in front of her and began to eat his steaming meal of pork chops, potatoes, corn, and rolls. When he was finished, he threw the bone at her feet.

  “Here, this is for you,” he said with a malicious smile followed by laughter. “Enjoy.”

  Of course, there was no meat on the bone, and her arms were still bound above her head, so it didn’t matter anyway.

  “I can’t sleep if you’re screaming all night, so I’m afraid I’ll have to tape your mouth again,” he whispered and reached for the roll of duct tape.

  “No, please don’t. I promise I’ll be good. I promise you won’t hear a peep,” she begged.

  He wagged his finger in front of her nose. “Tsk-tsk. I don’t know you that well yet, so I don’t trust you.”

  He tore off a large piece and covered her twisted mouth. Then he took one more photo of the rage, fear, and despise in her eyes before shutting off the light and heading up to bed.

  I GLANCED AT my watch; it was already 8:30. After the long day we had, I was exhausted, but I knew I wouldn’t fall asleep if I went to bed. The new case was haunting me, and I had the feeling the horror was just beginning.

  I was sitting on my couch and flipping through my collection of criminology books when my cell phone suddenly rang and made me jump. I looked at the display and saw that it was my recent ex-boyfriend, Justin. We’d broken up during my last undercover assignment for the Drug Unit. He hated the constant danger the job brought and its crazy hours, and I hated that he wanted to control me. I let his call go to voicemail. He’s the assistant district attorney, so chances are we’ll cross paths professionally again, but I didn’t have to deal with him right now. I went back to my reading and brushed up on famous serial killers, wishing I had a large dog to cuddle with and make me feel safer. I had an alarm system and my Glock, but I needed a companion, and now that I wouldn’t be going undercover anymore, I would finally have the time for one. I knew just the one to adopt. My neighbor was about to be deployed and was worried about what to do with his Belgian Malinois, Duke. I gave him a quick call and told him I’d love to have the large dog.

  “That’s great because I deploy in three days, and I still don’t have a home for him. He’s a good boy, but no one wants a dog this big,” Dave explained.

  “Well I do, and I’ll take excellent care of him,” I promised.

  “I’m sure you will, and congratulations on the promotion,” he gushed. “You can pick him up tomorrow if you want. Separating from him is going to be hard on me, so I might as well get it over with. You can have all his toys, bedding, food, etcetera.”

  “Great. I’ll stop by after work if that’s okay,” I suggested, and he agreed.

  After we finished talking, I felt relaxed enough to go to bed. Unfortunately, I had disturbing dreams all night long.

  I got to work thirty minutes early on Tuesday to go back over my notes on the current case.

  “You’re early this morning,” Lieutenant Madden remarked as he walked past my desk. “Is everything okay?”

  I looked up from the file. “Yes, I’m just going back over everything from yesterday. We need to crack down on this before anyone else suffers.”

  He rocked back on his heels. “So, you don’t think this is a case of one and done?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I think he’s just getting warmed up. Larissa Ray was gone for two weeks, and the restaurant was just a dump site, so he kept her somewhere for the torture. You don’t behave that sadistically if it’s for just one person,” I theorized. “I think he’s either had the obsession for a while, or he’s just starting out with it.”

  He rapped his knuckles on my desk. “I concur. Good job.”

  I heard the elevator doors slide open, and the others stepped into the office all at once. Marisol handed me a coffee from Starbucks.

  “I think you’ll like that better than the diesel fuel they serve around here,” she joked.

  I yawned and replied, “Thank you. I was up late, so I need the extra boost.”

  Eric had overheard us and asked me, “First-day stress kept you up? Well, don’t worry because we all went through those sleepless nights too.”

  “Went through? I still have those nights, and last night was no exception,” Marisol remarked. “I had to watch my favorite movie to relax.”

  “What’s your favorite movie?” I wondered, expecting her to say something along the lines of a Disney movie.

  “Jaws,” she replied, and I almost spit my coffee out all over my desk.

  Once they were settled in, we discussed the case and bounced ideas off each other. I told them the same thing I’d told the lieutenant, and they liked where I was leading.

  “Just to play the devil’s advocate, what if it was just a personal vendetta against Larissa Ray, and Tamara Boyd’s disappearance is a coincidence?” Liam asked us.

  “Then why leave the body where it would be discovered?” I challenged. “He could’ve dumped her in the lake or buried her if he was just
getting revenge.” I paced the area between us while the wheels turned in my brain. “Larissa Ray wasn’t a high-risk victim. She lived in a good neighborhood with her husband and worked as an administrative assistant.” I paused so they could react and interject with their own ideas.

  The lieutenant interrupted, though. “I just received a call from the patrol commander. A student found a body on the SLU campus. Units and the M.E. are already en route.”

  We were headed for the elevator before he could say anything else.

  WHEN WE ARRIVED on the scene, the patrol officers had the courtyard taped off. The bright yellow crime scene tape mocked the peacefulness of the grassy quad. Curious students and faculty were crowded around it to get their stares in before heading off to class.

  We waded through the crowd, and I cringed in horror at the display on the other side of the tape. The young male was even more mangled than Larissa Ray. In addition to the knife wounds, his hands and legs were facing unnatural directions, indicating broken bones. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t; this was the job now.

  I noticed something sticking out of his shirt pocket. “What’s that?” I asked and pointed to it for the M.E.

  Chris removed the object, which was a horrific photo of Larissa Ray. She was bound to a beam, and her bulging eyes broadcasted her panic. I put on latex gloves and stuffed the photo inside an evidence bag before handing it over to a member of the CSU team.

  “He’s proud of himself,” I mumbled. “He’s telling us he’s just getting started with this.”

  Liam heard me and replied, “He has a grandiose sense of self-importance, and now we know he has no gender or race preference.”

  Chris looked up and told us the victim, who wasn’t wearing any ID, had likely died of exsanguination as well. “He’s also cold to the touch, so I think he might have been in cold storage. That will make it hard to determine the time of death.”

  I rubbed my temples. This was looking worse than we thought. If the killer was storing the bodies, he could have been killing for a long time.

  “We’re going to need to try to find a connection between the victims,” I mentioned. “But I’m sure you already knew that,” I added softly, realizing that I was the one new at this, not them.

  Eric nudged my shoulder. “We did, but I’m glad you also know it. Additionally, we need to see how long he’s been missing after he’s identified.”

  Chris released the body to his morgue techs and the crime scene to the CSU techs, and we headed back to the station.

  The message light on my desk phone was flashing when I got back, so I dialed in to retrieve my voicemail. I had a message from Jamie Tinsley.

  I got in touch with Dominique Boyd, and she said her sister didn’t mention any stops before meeting her at the zoo yesterday. Let me know if you need anything else.

  I told the others, and they looked just as frustrated as I felt. We were getting nowhere fast. I called Jamie back and asked if they had any leads on Tamara Boyd.

  “No. The search dogs didn’t find anything, so divers are checking the lakes around Forest Park, but with as many lakes as there are…”

  “It will take some time to check them all,” I finished for him. “Although, assuming she is a victim of the same perp, he’s all about leaving his victims out in the open so far, and he’s keeping them long enough to torture them. The first victim had been held for two weeks, and we don’t know about the man we have in the morgue yet.”

  “So, she might still be alive then,” he concluded. “Hopefully, you’ll get to her in time, and I’ll let you know about the new victim as soon as I hear from the crime lab. I’m already running reports on local males reported missing in the last month who fit his profile.”

  “Good idea. Stay in touch.” I hung up and relayed his information to the others.

  I was engrossed in my notes when my cell phone rang. It was Maria Gomez.

  “Maria, I’m glad you called. Did you find anything out for me on that young lady?” I inquired while flipping through the files on my desk for the one in question. I was focused on the current case, but I was determined not to let the older one slip by. “It would sure make my day.”

  She lowered her voice, so I knew she wasn’t alone. “Yeah, I got something, but I can’t tell you right now. Can you meet me?”

  I looked at my watch: it was 11:00 already. “Sure, where are you?”

  “I’m at a friend’s house on the corner of Jefferson and Market,” she answered quietly.

  “I can meet you at the Market Street Deli, and I’ll buy you some lunch, okay?”

  “Sure. I’ll be there in ten minutes,” she responded and hung up.

  I looked at the others and told them, “I need to run a quick errand regarding this other case from last month”—I held up the file folder—“but I’ll be right back.”

  Liam nodded in approval. “That’s fine. We’re just waiting on Chris to do the autopsy and for lab reports, so we’ll call you if we need you back right away.”

  I quickly took the stairs to the first floor and ran to my car in the parking garage. I couldn’t wait to bring scum to justice—even if it wasn’t the worst scum out there doing harm right now.

  WHEN I ARRIVED at the Market Street Deli, I saw Maria standing outside, fidgeting nervously and puffing on a cigarette. As soon as she saw me, she snubbed out the cigarette with her shoe and walked inside the shop. She didn’t want to be seen walking in with me, which was smart given whom she spent time with.

  I gestured to a corner that was away from the windows, and she strutted over to sit down. I ordered two turkey sandwiches with sodas and sat at the table behind her, so our backs were to each other and we could talk over our shoulders. I handed her a sandwich, and she wasted no time before digging into it. I think she spent more money on booze and cigarettes than she ever did food.

  She leaned back and whispered, “So, I found out something about your girl. The day she was walking to the park, Carlos Garcia was riding around the neighborhood, looking to start trouble.”

  I knew the hoodlum she was talking about. He was a member of the Bloods, and he always pulled an alibi out of his ass when it was on the line. He was too high up on their food chain not to have someone always covering for him and taking the fall. I would love to be the person who finally got the charges to stick.

  In between bites of my sandwich, I asked, “Was he alone or with his crew?”

  She shook her head and mumbled with a full mouth, “Alone.”

  “Any witnesses?” I wondered and jotted down some notes. “I mean, how did you find out about this?”

  She took a drink of her soda and nervously glanced toward the windows. “Because I overheard Fernando bragging to his old lady about it. He said he and Demarcus rolled up on Carlos, and he threatened to pop them like he”—she lowered her voice and made air quotes—“‘had just done some black bitch.’”

  “That’s good, but I’m going to need more than hearsay to make charges stick,” I told her solemnly.

  “Well, I figured you would want to hear it for yourself, so I recorded the conversation with my phone”—she handed her cell phone over with the voice recording app opened—“Get it off there if you don’t mind.”

  I emailed the recording to myself and deleted it from her phone. “Okay, I deleted it after sending it to myself.”

  “Is that enough to put him away?” she wondered.

  I bit my bottom lip. “While recordings aren’t admissible in a court of law, it should be enough to get a warrant to search his car and home for the gun. Then we just have to match the ballistics up.”

  “So I did good, right?”

 
I slipped her a twenty-dollar bill. “You did very well, Maria. Now if you can help with this current case, that’d be remarkable.”

  She turned around to face me this time. “Do you mean the one in the news about the bodies that were just found?”

  I nodded with a frown. I felt the tension mounting in my neck from just thinking about it.

  “Well, I’ll see if I can find anything out for you,” she offered. “But I don’t think the Crips or Bloods are involved. It ain’t their style, you know?”

  “Yes, I know. There might be more than one doer, but it’s not gang-related. I’d bet good money on it,” I stated. I wasn’t aware of any gangs that were as vicious or organized as this killer. “Anyway, I need to return to the station, so you stay out of trouble and get in touch with me if you hear or see anything.”

  She held her fist up for a bump. “I will. Keep it real, five-o.”

  “You too, Maria,” I replied and left with the rest of my sandwich, consuming it on the way back to the station.

  I felt some relief. At least I could get somewhere with this case, but I had to do it before the weekend, which was coming up. Even judges would be off, making it hard to get a search warrant.

  When I got back to the station, I explained to the others, who were still waiting on the M.E. and crime lab reports, what had happened and opened the email I had sent to myself. We all listened to it, including Lieutenant Madden, and they all agreed it was enough to request the search warrant.

  “Judge Holkem is normally good about getting warrants to us quickly, so call his office first,” the lieutenant commanded. “But if he’s not available, try Judge Shapiro.”