Cold Blooded

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Cold Blooded Page 5

by Anne Patrick


  They spent the next five hours corroborating Adkins's story and then canvassing the three neighborhoods in the areas of the previous robberies. Out of over twenty homes and businesses, only two people remembered seeing a strange vehicle parked in the neighborhood. A black two-door with tinted windows and a blue truck. Gwen doubted either would turn into a good lead on their suspect but it was better than nothing.

  Tired, sweaty, and discouraged, Gwen turned the air conditioner on full blast and headed back to the station. "This case is really starting to get under my skin."

  "When has a case not gotten under your skin," Kris teased. "Sooner or later we'll catch a break. We always do."

  Preoccupied, Gwen took a sip of the bottle of water she'd purchased earlier. The hot liquid nearly scorched her tongue. She quickly rolled down the window and spit it out.

  Kris laughed.

  "Shut up." Suggesting they re-interview the neighbors on a hundred-plus-degree-day wasn't one of her brightest ideas.

  Back at the station, Gwen drove into the garage and parked in the motor pool. She handed Kris the car keys. "Don't forget my laptop."

  "Where are you going?"

  "Dispatch. I want to listen to the 9-1-1 call."

  *****

  Gwen was on the third playback when Kris joined her.

  "Sounds like a kid."

  "Yeah," Gwen agreed. "Can't tell if it's male or female though." She turned to Lynn, one of the two dispatchers present. "Can I get a copy of this call?"

  The dispatcher picked up a disc from her area and handed it to Gwen. "Sarge said you'd probably want a copy."

  "Thanks, Lynn."

  Kris handed Gwen another disc. "Store surveillance." They walked to the elevator and Kris pushed the button for the third floor. "Hey, Eric called me while I was in the garage. He's picking me up so you don't have to give me a lift home. I do need one in the morning, though. He wasn't able to get to my car today."

  "Okay." The doors opened and Gwen waited for Kris to enter first. "So business is pretty good now, huh?"

  "Yes, thank goodness. There for awhile I thought we were gonna have to take out a second mortgage."

  "You should've said something. I could've loaned you some money."

  Kris crooked an eyebrow at her. Gwen smiled. "Right, never borrow from friends. Hey if I needed it, and I knew you had some extra cash, I'd ask."

  "Sure you would."

  In the squad room, Gwen immediately glanced toward the lieutenant's office. It was empty.

  "Officer Burks dropped this off for you." Nick handed Gwen a disc.

  "Great. Thanks, Nick." She put it and the other two discs on her desk.

  "Is that from the ATM across from the liquor store?" Kris asked.

  "Yeah. I'll watch it at home and give you a call if I find something useful."

  "Okay. You want me to sign you out?" Kris handed Gwen the laptop.

  "No, I want to wait for the lieutenant. I'll see you in the morning."

  "Since you're going to be working tonight anyway, how about you cover for me?" Nick planted himself on the corner of Kris's desk.

  "Hot date?"

  He grinned. "A gorgeous redhead I met in the supermarket Saturday."

  "The supermarket, huh? Maybe I should try that."

  "The gym would probably be safer," Lieutenant McKean spoke from behind.

  Gwen smiled over her shoulder. "Thanks for the tip but I'm not really looking."

  "So will you cover for me?"

  Gwen glanced at the on-call sheet posted on the wall next to the lieutenant's office to see what nights she had this week. "If you'll take Wednesday night for me."

  "Deal. Thanks a lot, Gwen." Nick signed out then disappeared through the door.

  She made the change to the on-call sheet and felt the lieutenant behind her. "Sorry. Guess I should've checked with you first."

  "As long as the sheet is correct, I don't mind. I would appreciate an update on the robbery/homicide, though."

  Gwen took a seat at her desk and briefed him on the day's events, including re-canvasing the neighborhoods surrounding the previous robberies. "I'm still waiting on ballistics."

  "Have you questioned Stuart Adkins about his whereabouts for last night?"

  "No, but I checked with the owner of the boarding house where he's staying." Gwen folded her arms, her gaze steady on him as he leaned against Ron's desk. "Adkins never left."

  "I was just asking, Detective." The corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile. "Any chance the store video can be enhanced?"

  Gwen relaxed her arms. "Wouldn't do much good. The individual is wearing a hoodie and never looked toward the camera. I have footage from the ATM machine across the street but I haven't viewed it yet. I'll have a look at it tonight."

  He shifted his gaze to the discs lying on her desk. "Leave the store video. I wanna see it."

  She took the bottom disc and handed it to him. "Did you read the file yet?"

  "I did. You and Detective Todd have done a thorough job so far. Other than re-interviewing the neighbors, which you're doing, and expanding your search for similar MOs to statewide, I'm afraid I can't offer much input."

  "Thank you." Gwen opened the bottom drawer of her desk and took out her purse. She then stood, gathering the laptop and two discs. "See you in the morning, sir."

  "Have a good evening, Detective."

  *****

  Ian's cell phone rang a few minutes into the video. "Lieutenant McKean."

  "Hi Dad."

  He beamed at the angelic voice on the other end. "Hey, sweetheart. How are you?"

  "Oh you know, busy with school. Things are going really well, though. Are you getting settled in there?"

  "I haven't finished unpacking yet, but I'm working on it."

  "How's the new job?"

  "I like it. Of course today's only my second day. For the most part, everyone has been pretty welcoming. I have a great team of detectives."

  "You sound excited. Almost like your old self. I'm glad you decided to take the job there."

  "I miss being closer to you." He was really going to miss her weekend trips home.

  "It's only a four hour drive. Chad has already promised to bring me up for a visit next month."

  Chad was the first boyfriend Ian had taken a liking to. The pre-med student seemed to love JoAnn and doted on her every chance he got. "Well, if something comes up and he can't make it, don't you drive up alone."

  "I won't, Dad. I know I'd never hear the end of it. Have you talked to Isaac?"

  Ian suspected she already knew the answer. "No, I haven't, but not for lack of trying. He won't answer his phone." After his mother died, Isaac needed to blame someone so he blamed Ian. "You know he has your mother's stubborn streak."

  "Look who's talking."

  "Have you talked to him?"

  "Last week," she confirmed his suspicion. "I called and told him he needed to get whatever stuff he wanted to keep out of the house. That it'd been sold. He hung up on me."

  Ian sighed. Selling the home his kids grew up in had been one of the toughest decisions of his life. It had been a happy home till tragedy struck. Nothing was ever the same after that. Then, after losing the love of his life, Ian just couldn't bear staying there. He knew he'd go crazy if he had.

  "Don't blame yourself, Dad. He needs to get over himself and wake up to reality."

  Ian smiled at her logic. JoAnn had always been the more mature of his children. "We just need to give him some more time."

  "I suppose. Listen, Dad, I need to get off here. Chad and I are going to dinner tonight. I just wanted to check in and tell you I love you."

  "I love you too, sweetheart. I'll call you in a couple of days."

  Ian slid his phone back in his pocket and glanced at the double photos positioned on the corner of his desk. Both JoAnn and Isaac had inherited Ian's red hair and zeal for life, but they also had a lot of their mother in them. He tried to be a good father while they were growing up. That wasn't
always easy with him being a cop and the crazy hours he had pulled throughout his career. Ian had made sure they had a Christian upbringing. He went to as many sporting events as he could, and he did his best to be a friend when they needed one. Ian had learned a long time ago, though, that a parent could only do so much. The rest was in God's hands.

  *****

  Gwen maneuvered a pair of chopsticks between her fingers and took a bite of the chow mein noodles from the take-out carton. Her black and white cat, Lizzie, lay purring in her lap, the soft melody soothing away the tension of the day. Gwen looked back at her laptop sitting on her coffee table. In twenty minutes only a small white sedan had driven passed the store. She lowered her gaze to the time stamp, 1:35 A.M. Gwen took another bite. Five minutes later, the robber, already wearing the black hat and the bandana over his face, entered the video from the south. Gwen hit 'pause' and made a note of the direction of travel on the pad beside her. Either tomorrow or in a couple of days they would re-interview the neighbors south of the store to see if they remembered seeing anything.

  She restarted the video and watched him go inside the liquor store. Only three and a half minutes passed before the robber fled the liquor store, running north. A small dark figure appeared at the corner of the building and collided with him and fell back against the building. It was the person with the white scarf Mr. Williams saw. Gwen shoved the chopsticks into the chow mein container and put it on the table, then gently moved Lizzie to the end of the sofa and grabbed up the laptop. She rewound the video to where the man exited the store and watched it again.

  After the collision, the robber spun around and continued running. The person with the scarf bent down and picked up something from the sidewalk, then went inside. Less than a minute later, he, possibly a she, ran out and disappeared down the alley they came from. Unfortunately, the video was too dark and grainy to make out much detail on either the robber or the witness. Maybe CSU could clean it up for her. She would drop it off first thing in the morning.

  Gwen closed the video and opened the 9-1-1 audio recording. She'd downloaded both onto the laptop earlier so she would have easier access to them. After listening to it half a dozen times, she still couldn't determine whether the caller was a male or female. She then played the store surveillance video she had copied in the car. It wasn't the first time Gwen had seen a murder take place on video, but it was still disturbing. What struck her the most about the murder is that the robber showed no hesitation before pulling the trigger.

  In eight years of service, Gwen had only fired her weapon three times in the line of duty. Thankfully, no one had died. She knew cops who hadn't been as lucky, though. When faced with death, in that type of situation, training takes over and the officer does what he or she has to do, with only a split-second in which to make the decision. If someone dies as a result, this choice can haunt an officer throughout his or her career.

  Having to shoot someone in self-defense was a lot different than killing someone in cold-blood. The robber wore a disguise. Mrs. Gyman couldn't have identified him. Yet, he shot her a third time. He had looked right at her and pulled the trigger. Only two types of people came to mind that could do something that evil; someone high on drugs, which definitely wasn't the case here because the robber was too meticulous, or someone who has killed before and likes it.

  Gwen's cell phone rang and she jumped. She quickly picked it up from the coffee table and answered, "Jamison."

  "Detective, this is Amy in dispatch. We have an armed robbery at Sixth and Lexington. Officers on scene are requesting a detective."

  "I'm on my way."

  *****

  Gwen drove with lights and sirens through the city, her SUV cutting in and out of the late evening traffic. Rounding the corner onto Sixth Avenue, she spotted a patrol car parked in the middle of the block. She whipped into the parking place in front of it and got out.

  "Grab her," someone hollered as Gwen walked around the back of her vehicle. A dark figure with a streak of white around the shoulders tore down the sidewalk. One of the uniforms took off after the perp.

  You've gotta be kidding me. Gwen chased after them. The dark-clothed perp cut across the street, darting in between two cars stopped at the light. The officer and Gwen ran after him. Gwen was within a couple of feet of the uniform when someone stepped out of a bar and slammed into the officer, knocking him to the ground. Gwen slowed long enough to check on the officer. He waved her on. In the next block, the man tore back across the street. Gwen had nearly caught up to him now. "Police. Stop!"

  The perp ignored her warning and darted down the alley. Gwen followed, thankful for the security lights fastened to the buildings. He crossed another alley then disappeared around the corner. Gwen drew her gun. Surely they had disarmed the suspect. She wasn't taking any chances, though. She squatted low and looked around the brick building. A lone light was stationed above the rear exit of the building she was crouched by; she saw no sign of the suspect. But because of the light she couldn't see very far past it. He could be hiding behind one of the dumpsters or he could've gone into one of the doors.

  Gwen pressed her back against the wall and attempted to regulate her breathing. The only sound she heard was her heart pounding in her ears. Gwen blew out a deep breath and eased around the corner, keeping her head low. She probably should've taken the time to put on her vest. A shuffling sound came from midway down the alley. Gwen moved closer. Forty feet in front of her the perp climbed a stack of pallets in front of a chain-link fence. Gwen holstered her weapon securely and ran after him. She identified herself again but her plea fell on deaf ears. Gwen leapt up and grabbed hold of one of the pallets then scramble after him. He now climbed the fence. Dark hoodie, black jeans, and something white around his neck. It was her witness.

  Motivated more than ever to catch the suspect, Gwen moved faster. She glanced up; he was now at the top of the fence. Gwen reached the end of the pallets, climbed on top and jumped up, snagging a pant leg. She jerked and he kicked. Gwen's left foot slipped in between the slats of the pallet, forcing her to release the leg and grab the fence. The guy squirmed over the top. Gwen climbed after him, using mostly her arm strength because her shoes kept sliding out of the links. She glanced up again. The scarf was caught on the top of the fence and the guy worked frantically to get it loose. Gwen grasped the end of the scarf that rested against her side of the fence, while her other hand clung to the chain-link fence. The suspect lost his footing and dropped several inches, nearly level with Gwen. He dangled sideways now, clenching the scarf. It was at least a twenty-foot drop to the ground.

  With his legs flaying, he spun around and banged against the fence.

  Gwen's breath caught as she saw the hidden face and the frightened blue eyes. It wasn't a man, but a young girl.

  "Please let me go," she spoke softly.

  "I can't." Gwen tightened her grip on the scarf. "Now grab hold of the fence and climb back—"

  The girl bit down on Gwen's right index finger. Gwen screamed and jerked her fingers free of the fence, her other hand clang to the scarf with a death grip.

  The young girl let go and dropped to the ground. With a slight limp, she disappeared down the alley.

  Gwen ignored the pain in her throbbing finger and climbed to the top of the fence. After several seconds, she worked the scarf free, draped it over her shoulder and climbed back down to the ground.

  Within a half block of her SUV, Gwen spotted a black late-model Mustang parked in the entrance of an alley. The two officers on scene earlier stood next to Lieutenant McKean. Another was on the sidewalk talking to a woman. Great.

  "Thanks for leaving me out to dry, guys." Gwen walked on passed them.

  "We knew you could handle yourself," one of the officers hollered.

  Gwen carefully worked her key fob from her right pocket and released her tailgate. It popped loose and she raised it up. She removed a large baggie from the evidence kit she kept in the back and placed the scarf inside.
The young girl's haunting gaze flashed through Gwen's mind. Thirteen or fourteen maybe, and most likely a street kid. It would explain the girl's desperate attempt to free the scarf. It was probably one of her only possessions.

  The lieutenant and the two officers joined her. "I take it the perp got away?"

  "After she bit me." Baggie in hand, Gwen slammed the tailgate. She then opened the passenger door and placed the bag on the seat.

  "Where'd she bite you?" the lieutenant asked.

  Gwen lifted her hand. Blood now dripped down her finger. "She wouldn't have gotten away if the officers had followed procedure and placed her in cuffs."

  "Sorry, Detective. She seemed harmless and very scared."

  "She was a street kid," the other officer said.

  Gwen grabbed some tissues from the console, wrapped her finger, and then slammed the door. "Dispatch said it was an armed robbery. Was it or not?"

  "Turns out it was an attempted strong-arm robbery. The kid tried to steal the old lady's purse."

  "Well, did you at least get her name?" Gwen snapped. Due to their incompetence, her only lead in the robberies had gotten away.

  "Tina McAfee."

  "I suspect that's probably an alias," Lieutenant McKean suggested.

  Gwen looked at him. "Why do you say that?"

  "Tina McAfee is a fictional character in a teenage werewolf series," he explained. "My daughter used to read them."

  "Nice." Gwen shifted her attention back to the officers. "Did you get anything useful on her? Did she touch anything? What about the purse? Can a print be lifted from it?"

  "It's a cloth bag. Her granddaughter made it for her."

  Gwen shook her head and walked toward the woman and third officer, determined to get something on the girl.

  Lieutenant McKean followed. "Let me have a look at your finger?"

  "It's fine."

  "Let me see it anyway. That's an order."

  Gwen stopped walking and thrust her hand at him.

  He took it gently in his. "You need to go to the hospital and have it checked out. When was your last tetanus shot?"

 

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