Unlawful Imprisonment

by Tracey Higgins

  “Can I help you?” John walked over to her. “Where is Brandon Hughes?”

  “He’s out of the office.” John noticed the woman looking around the office for him, even though John told her Brandon wasn’t there. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

  “No, just tell him Brittany came by and I would like to see him as soon as possible.”

  “No problem.”

  “Thank you.” She stormed out cursing Brandon under her breath. She was practically tripping over in her high heels and pulling down her leopard miniskirt. John could only imagine what the new rumor about Brandon was going to be. He called Brandon and impatiently waited for a call back. Finally he got one twenty minutes later. “John what’s up?”

  “You tell me. A woman named Brittany stopped by before looking for you. In fact, she was pissed.” “Shit.” He mumbled.

  “Look Brandon your personal life is your business. But when it interferes with work, then I have a problem. Am I making myself understood?”

  “Yes, it won’t happen again.”

  “Make sure it doesn’t.” John hung up before Brandon could say anything. There were always women calling the office looking for Brandon. However, when somebody comes in disrupting everything, that’s where John drew the line. His job was hard enough without having to worry about anyone’s love life. He didn’t even want to know what Brandon had gotten himself into this time.

  Brandon was getting dressed after his conversation with John. The naked woman lying next to him was smoking a cigarette.

  “You have to go?” She sat up.

  “Yup.” He was with Jackie, a recent parolee. He wanted to sleep with her the moment she walked into his office.

  “When are you coming back?”

  Brandonsmiled. “If I told you that, I wouldn’t be doing my job.”

  “Oh, but this is?” She laughed.

  “This…” he kissed her, “this is just between us, right?” He raised his eyebrows. Brandon finished dressing and grabbed his keys. “Make sure you’re being a good girl or I’ll have to come back.” He laughed.

  “Then I won’t be good.”

  “You know what I mean. Bye.”

  Brandon always waited a month before getting sexually involved with his parolees. He needed to make sure they would keep their mouths shut. Mostly, they were in prison for drug possession, and when he caught them still using; he used sex as a trade off to going back to prison. Brandon knew all the rumors and in a way, they worked in his favor. If a parolee who he slept with was arrested and that parolee insisted he be fired because of his sexual conduct, he could always say she was mad because she got arrested. If they were high on drugs, nobody would pay attention to them anyway. He had a perfect arrangement for himself.

  It was already two days since Kylie was found, and Detective Riser had no idea where to begin. He had already checked out the activity on her credit card and there was nothing unusual, as well as no calls made on her cell phone that day. He figured he could call Tony’s girlfriend to send him a list of all people released on parole for sex crimes in Millers County. That was the only place he knew of to start. He had Andrea’s extension memorized because he had worked with the parole department many times before.

  “Stephenson.”

  “Andrea its Frank. I need another favor.” “Oh, what now?”

  “I got one hell of a case in front of me so I was hoping…”

  “For a list of possible parolees you could check out, right?”

  “No wonder Tony is so head over heels with you, you’re so smart.”

  She laughed quietly. “I’ll fax it to you in a little while. You’re lucky you caught me I was just on my way out.”

  “I’ll be in the office for about an hour.”

  “Okay, I’ll send it over.”

  “Thanks.”

  Twenty minutes later he had a fax about five pages long with names and addresses, although he couldn’t accuse any of them. It was basically just a guide in case one of their names ever came up in an interview with relatives or friends of the victims. Frank assumed the guy had to be close by. He wouldn’t want to be too far from his victim. While he was going through the list, Dr. Baxton called.

  “Frank, I have some news for you.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “The toxicology report came back. There were no poisons in her system, but there was a drug.”

  “What?”

  “Ecstasy.”

  “According to the friends and family, she wasn’t a drug user.”

  “He probably gave it to her to get her to go with him and calm her down later on. Ecstasy will elevate the mood of a person and it also causes faintness and confusion. But I don’t think that’s what killed her, not with the grave she was in. This asshole wouldn’t have gone through all that trouble of the grave, the water and making her eat if he just wanted to kill her. In my opinion, she died of a heart attack. However, since there are so many bruises on her neck and with the drug in her system it’s hard to establish what the exact cause of the heart attack was.”

  “But it was definitely a heart attack?”

  “Yes. It may not have even been from the drug. There are cases where people have been literally scared to death. If enough epinephrine is released into the system, like after a scare, it will cause a heart attack.”

  “But why after one month?”

  “Maybe he did something that really frightened her, who knows? Or, maybe he was finished with her.” “I got it. Thanks Doc.”

  Dr. Baxton felt physically sick while he was writing Kylie’s death certificate. Even though he had seen countless bodies, he never saw anything like this. His first case was a four-year-old boy who was beaten to death, and his very next case was another child. The majority of his cases were children. He quickly learned not to get emotional and just do the job.

  He had done autopsies on bodies that were practically unrecognizable. Kylie’s body was not badly beaten. Physically speaking, he had seen worse. It was the manner in which she was killed. He couldn’t understand a person who could hold someone prisoner for one month underground and only let her out to be tortured. Dr. Baxton knew that this was one of those cases that would keep him up at night. The only thing definite about this guy is that he is very sick, but worst of all, smart. He wished he could have given Frank more information. Autopsies were usually very helpful in finding a suspect. Traces such as blood, semen, skin or hair always holds clues, except in this case.

  Frank took off to Mrs. Sander’s home, just on the boarder of Millers County. He hated this part of his job. Kylie’s mother answered the door. She was in torn jeans, a dirty tee shirt and her long blond hair was tied back in a sloppy ponytail. She was in poor shape, but who could blame her?

  ”Mrs. Sanders, I’m Detective Frank Riser with homicide. I’m sorry to intrude but I need some information.”

  “Come in detective.” Frank followed her into the living room and noticed a pile of laundry on the floor. “I just can’t seem to get to it. Those are…were Kylie’s clothes.” “I understand, I really am sorry about this but I just got the results of the autopsy.”

  “And?”

  “There was a drug called ecstasy in her system, which may or may not have caused her death. But she definitely died from a heart attack.”

  “Kylie was a straight A student. She just graduated from the community college and she wanted to be a teacher. She didn’t do drugs, believe me.”

  “I know, but we think that this guy gave her the drug in order to get her to go with him. You had said she was meeting her friends at a bar that night?”

  “Yes, but they never saw her. She was gone when they got there and they called here to see where she was.”

  “I remember that. Mrs. Sanders are you sure there were no exboyfriends or enemies…”

  “No. She was engrossed in her studies. She never went out much. Her friends were taking her out to celebrate her graduation.”

  “Does y
our husband know of anyone that you didn’t?”

  “No. We’ve both been trying to figure this out since she was missing. My husband is at work. I think he is just trying to keep busy, or he is in denial. This is very difficult for both of us.”

  “I understand. That will be all. Thank you for your time. Once again, I apologize for your loss.”

  “Don’t apologize, just find that bastard.” “I’ll do my best ma’am.” Frank left with no information, but with a new determination to find the killer. Seeing the heartaches of the family always did that. He hoped that he wouldn’t let them down.

  Frank went to the bar immediately following his talk with Mrs. Sanders. It was in-between a shopping center and a grocery market, so he hoped with so many people around somebody would have seen something. However, when he took Kylie’s picture to the owner of the club he didn’t remember her. The owner went to look for the bouncer when Frank insisted he speak with him. The bouncer had to be a least 6’6. He looked like a professional body builder. He walked up to Frank and shook his hand.

  “The boss said you wanted to see me Detective?” “Yes, I’m Frank Riser, homicide.”

  “Dean Meyer.” If this weren’t a serious conversation, Frank would have been laughing his ass off at the way the bouncer said his name. He sounded like he was auditioning for a television show.

  “I’m investigating the death of Kylie Sanders who was reported missing a little over a month ago. This is her.” Frank held up her picture, and Dean took it. “Sorry, I can’t help you.”

  “Well, she was supposed to meet her friends here. Is there another bouncer who was on with you?” “No, but look Detective,” Dean couldn’t even put his arms down straight, that’s how built he was. “Let me save you some time. Do you have any idea how many people are coming and going in a bar like this? Once I check the ID’s that’s it. I don’t see them again, unless there’s trouble.”

  “I see. Thank you for your time.”

  “No problem.” As Dean walked away Frank went back to talk with the owner, who was shaking his head. “I take it you didn’t get any information?” “No.”

  “I’d offer you a drink, but I take it you can’t, being on the job.”

  “I don’t drink. I’m going to leave Kylie’s photograph with you. I’d appreciate it if you would keep it up with my number to call, if anybody happens to recognize her.”

  “I will.”

  “Thanks.”

  When he returned home, Frank got to work on his report for Jerry Slomin, the Assistant District Attorney. Luckily, the bizarre circumstances surrounding Kylie’s death were not released to the press. Not only would Slomin be infuriated if it did, but there was no telling how the sociopath would re-act. It was a double-edge sword. He didn’t want the public in a panic, yet wanted women to be aware ofthe maniac out there. Either way, it wouldn’t make finding him any easier.

  Chapter 9

  Tabitha Mitchell, a parole officer for four years handled mostly assault and robbery cases. She had very few rapists in her time. When she first started people mistook her for a lesbian, mostly by the men. She never wore make-up, had short hair and was very tall and muscular for a woman. Instead of seeing that as a sign of being in shape, the men assumed she was gay. Eventually, she told Andrea that she had her share of heartache and had no interest in men. She was content with her friends and family. Six nieces and nephews kept her very busy. Tabitha was preparing for her visit with Mitch Summer. He was on parole for robbery with assault. He was the only parolee she was truly frightened of. She always had a bad vibe when she came to his apartment. Tabitha had wanted to quit for the last year or so, but she wasn’t one hundred percent sure. She didn’t want to be chased out of her profession.

  “Good luck Tabby.” Michael said when she left her office.

  “Thanks.” Michael knew she hated this parolee. Unfortunately, it was something she needed to deal with in order to have this job.

  During the last visit Mitch let her in and had his pay stubs ready for her which was unusual. He was more compliant than ever. Tabitha wondered if he was turning over a new leaf or just wanted to get rid of her. A few times she caught him looking her over but she paid no attention. She was just relieved that she didn’t have to arrest him. She knew she could handle herself, but she did not want to get into all that. Lately she had begun to lose the adrenaline rush she had while making an arrest. That was the first warning sign that it was time to quit.

  When she came to his apartment her hands were shaking. He was a huge man with blond hair in a ponytail. Both of his arms were covered in tattoos and had four earrings in each ear. His voice made her sick. He had the voice of a ninety year old man who smoked for sixty years. “Hello Ms. Mitchell.”

  “Hi Mitch, you have your pay stubs for me?” “Maybe.” He was looking her over.

  “Now Mitch.”

  “Ooh getting more vocal.” He went to his table. “Here ya go.”

  “Thanks. I checked that you are going to your therapy so everything is good.”

  “If you call therapy good.”

  “Better than prison I would think.”

  “Is that all?” He was ready for a fight.

  “See you soon.” She sighed.

  “Bye.”

  She went to her car feeling like a failure because she wasn’t forceful with him. When Tabitha started the job she demanded that her parolees called her officer. She just didn’t have the energy to care anymore.

  ~~~~~~~~~

  Michael was making his visit with Zachary Tyler. He was thirty eight years old and paroled six months ago for rape. Michael hated making this visit. He was constantly giving Michael a hard time about how he was innocent. Zachary lived in the half way house since he had no family in the county. The only family he had lived in another state. They were rich, well respected and wanted nothing to do with Zachary since the trial.

  Michael went to his room and Zachary was lying on his bed. His blond hair that was always in a ponytail was gone.

  “What happened to you Zachary?”

  “I shaved it off.”

  “Why?”

  “I felt like it. Is that alright?”

  Michael shook his head. “Just asking. Did you go to your counseling session?”

  “Yeah, I just got back.” He put out his cigarette. “How did it go?”

  “How do you think it went?”

  “I don’t know Zachary, I wasn’t there.” He threw Zachary’s clothes off the chair to sit down.

  “Same old shit.”

  “How has work been?”

  “Same old shit.”

  “Do you have your pay stubs for the month?” “Right there.”

  He took them from the desk. Michael no longer let these types of conversations get to him. As a matter of fact, he sometimes enjoyed it. He could be very sarcastic at times. “Looks good. I’ll see you later.”

  “Alright. Oh, could I get a day off next week to visit someone?”

  “Who?”

  “An old friend, in Connecticut. I know you have to approveit.”

  “That’s right I do, and no you can’t.”

  “What?”

  “Zachary, you really need to start getting yourself motivated instead of lying on your bed and saying something more than the same old shit.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me, maybe next month after I do your review and I check it out.” Michael was aggravated because now he had to make sure Zachary didn’t just take off. However, if he did take off, Michael would just love to arrest him. That was his favorite part of the job. The power of a parole officer was always a turn on for him. Chapter 10

  A few days after David Reese’s release, Andrea had another problem parolee. She went to pay a routine visit to Alex Holland who was released from prison four months earlier for assault and battery. He lived in a rundown apartment where all the kids skipping school hung out. Every time she went there she was stared at so it didn’t take her lon
g to simply look straight ahead and ignore them. It was nine o’clock in the morning so he should have been getting ready for work. Apparently, he wasn’t planning to work today.

  Andrea knocked on the door a few times but he wouldn’t answer. After she banged on the door and yelled his name she heard a crashing sound inside his apartment. She took out her gun and kicked the door in. Alex was kneeling on the floor. His table was overturned and he looked like he was hiding something.

  “Alex get on your stomach and put your hands behind your back.” He didn’t budge. “NOW!” He started getting down and as she was going for her handcuffs Alex quickly turned and took a swing at her. Andrea immediately knocked his hand away and kicked him hard enough to back him off. Although he was big, Andrea was strong. He pulled out a knife and she retaliated with the gun.

  “Put the knife down and get on the ground!” He let the knife fall out of his hands. “Down! Now! Put your hands over your head!” With her knee in his back she cuffed Alex as she read him his rights.

  “Let’s see what you were hiding.” Andrea picked up a plastic bag on the floor. It was filled with cocaine. “Alex, are you turning into a drug addict or did you think becoming a dealer would be a nice career change from assault?”

  “Fuck off!”

  Alex was humiliated being led to the car by all of thekids. They were getting a free show. “Loser! Caught by a woman asshole!”

  He cursed her the entire ride to the police station. Andrea filled out the usual paperwork and listened to Alex screaming at her while he was being escorted to his cell. She didn’t get back to the office until later that afternoon, and Tony was sitting at her desk waiting for her.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t my little private eye. What are you doing here?” She didn’t look worn out at all. After all, she was used to making those types of arrests.

  “I don’t have any cases so I’d thought I would surprise you. How is it going?”

  “You know how it’s going. You used to be a cop.” “Yeah, but now I work for myself.”

  “You’re lucky.”