The Captain gave Reese a slight nod. Lake continued.
“Okay, we know of two murders in Cromwell so far. Names of the two victims. Adam Chandler and Sergeant Martin Kelsey. Presumed cause of death in both cases is a stab wound to the chest. We have both butcher knives in evidence, they appear to have come from the same set, although they are the same size which is unusual for a knife set. No fingerprints on either knife, unfortunately. The only person willing to say anything substantial about victim #1, Adam Chandler, was a neighbor a few houses down on Braxton Ave. His name is Minh Nyung. He claims Chandler was a real nasty son of a bitch. Always yelling. Says Chandler has an adopted daughter named Kei Lien who no one has seen recently. It might be helpful if we can locate where the wrapping paper was sold. It had to be somewhere it could be sold in bulk and all year round. It takes a lot to wrap a human being, yet alone two.”
“Detective?”
“Yes, Officer Sorenson.” Reese answered the recruit.
“What if it was more than one person that did this? You would have to be damn strong and agile to wrap a dead body alone.”
“Good point. We already figured as much.” Lake noted.
Detective Clayton agreed. “Certainly true. Anything is possible. Lots of questions here. Who? Why? How? And will there be more? Not a lot of answers. That needs to change fast.”
Captain Brown moved toward the doorway and once again everyone stood.
“I appreciate the respect, officers, but it’s not necessary. What I do want is answers. Get to work and watch your backs. Detectives, keep me in the loop.”
Chapter 8
Detectives Lake and Clayton gathered what little evidence they had so far from their desks and headed in to meet with the Captain. They were halted by an officer escorting a woman in uniform, a postal uniform.
“Detectives, this young lady says she needs to speak with you both. She says she may have something for you concerning the death of Mr. Chandler.”
“Officer, will you tell the Captain we will be delayed a few minutes?” Reese politely asked.
“Of course.”
“I’m Detective Clayton. This is my partner Detective Lake. How can we help you?”
Emerson pulled an extra chair up to the desk. “Please have a seat.”
“Thank you. My name is Linda Abrams. I’m the letter carrier for the Chandler household. I heard, like everyone else in this city, about the death of Mr. Chandler. I also read in the paper something about wrapping paper. Christmas wrapping paper to be exact.”
“Well, Ms. Abrams, don’t believe everything you read.”
“I know. I just thought you might like to have these letters. I have been delivering mail to the Chandler household for a lot of years and didn’t think twice about mail addressed to Santa, at least when it was Christmas time and their child was a little girl. But the last 10 years, maybe more, I have found these stuck in the mailbox once in a while or sometimes on the ground. I didn’t think much of it at the time and just stored them in my locker. That is, until I heard about Mr. Chandler’s death. They are all addressed to Santa, the North Pole,” her voice began to crack. “After this happened, I had to open one, Detectives. I just had to.”
“So, you believe they may have something to do with his death?” Lake was very close to her face.
Clayton interjected. “Detective Lake, would you mind getting Ms. Abrams a bottle of water, and would you mind grabbing one for me as well? Thanks, I appreciate it.”
As Lake left the room, he gave Clayton a quick nod.
“So, Linda...may I call you Linda?”
“Yes, of course.”
“How often would you say this happened?”
“Hard to say. I don’t really remember how often, but the last one was probably late April, early May of this year. It’s in the box, I just don’t know which one it is.”
“And you never opened one before today to see what it said?”
“No. They may mean nothing. I don’t know, but I just have that eerie feeling, do you know what I mean? Sort of like a mother’s instinct. I probably should have inquired about them long ago.”
“Here’s your beverages of choice, ladies.”
Lake, now wearing a smile on his face and very polite, handed the mail carrier her water.
“Thank you. I think I should take mine to go. I have to get back to my route. If that’s okay with you both?”
“Of course,” Clayton said. “I’ll have the desk sergeant take your information and if we need anything else, we will contact you. Thank you for your help.”
Clayton escorted Linda back to the front of the station and then hurried back to Lake.
“Let’s take everything into the Captain’s office. She is waiting for us anyway.”
They showed the Captain the letters, repeating the letter carrier’s story.
“Did you arrest him?” The captain asked. “That’s a federal offense.”
“No not that kind of letter,” Detective Clayton replied. “They are letters to Santa. Oh, and the carrier is a woman.”
“Well let’s see what we have.”
Each one opened a letter. Each one had the same look on their face.
Dear Santa,
Could you bring me someone to love me? I want to be hugged and kissed and made to feel special. I know I am too old to believe in Santa, but I have nothing else to hold onto. If you can, send someone whose touch is warm and gentle with arms that will hold me every day. A special someone that will love me no matter what I have done in the past. I have been a good girl Santa, for most of this year at least. Better than most other years. Please remember Santa, I always say I’m sorry.
“What the hell?” Emerson was first to speak. “This is written by a child, but the requests are not for toys, or books or pets. This kid just wants someone to love her.”
“This one, too,” Captain Brown said tossing it onto the desk. “It’s written in a child’s handwriting with crayons, but she says she is too old to write to Santa. Is she an adult? What was happening in that house that she would have to say she was sorry for? Another thing, how do we know this was written by a female? Do we know that Kei Lien was the only child living there?”
“The neighbors only mentioned a daughter and the letter carrier mentioned picking up the letters years before when Kei Lien was just a little girl. I think that letter carrier might be right about her motherly instincts after all.”
Chapter 9
Kei Lien went to the kitchen to start dinner for her father, a task that was turned over to her almost immediately after her mother died. She had thought long and hard, day after day, about using the butcher knife that she now held in her hand to end the pain that had taken over her every waking moment. The time would come soon. She remembered she left the laundry basket next to the clothesline in the back yard, so she set the knife down and went outside to retrieve it. She turned around to head back in and was startled by a man peering over the chain-link fence. The only time anyone arrived at their home was when Santa would send another gift. He was a much younger man than usual maybe only a few years older than her. Maybe twenty-four or twenty-five.
“Hi, I’m Daniel Nyung. I live just up the street. I’ve seen you a few times out here and I just thought while I was out for a walk, I’d stop by to say hi. What’s your name?” he asked.
She glared at him. “Are you a gift from Santa?”
“What?”
“I just thought...” her voice trailed off. “Never mind. Where did you say you live?”
“Just a few doors down the street. Do you live here with your parents?”
Kei Lien stared at him wondering what this guy was up to. “I can’t talk right now. I have to make dinner.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said feeling uneasy. “I didn’t mean to bother you. It’s just that we’ve been neighbors
for a long time and yet we’ve never been introduced. I just wanted to see if maybe we could get some friends together sometime and go over to the Dipper for an ice cream? Or maybe we could go for a cup of coffee someday?”
Daniel, being more of a loner, found it difficult to make friends. The few people he knew were more acquaintances than friends.
“But I can tell you’re busy. I’m sorry. I’ll let you get back to making dinner.” He turned and started to walk away.
“Maybe,” she replied, surprised at herself. “Daniel?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t say you’re sorry, I’m not. It’s Kei Lien, by the way.”
“What?”
“Kei Lien Chandler. That’s my name,” she smiled.
Daniel smiled back at Kei Lien. He was confused by her remark about not saying sorry, but glad he now knew her name and got a maybe on the get together. As he walked down the sidewalk headed toward home, he glanced back and saw an older man going up to the front door of the Chandler’s house. The only thing he heard when Kei Lien opened the door was gift from Santa.
That’s fucking odd, he thought to himself. That’s Sergeant Kelsey.
What had Kei Lien done to cause the police to come to her door and why would the Sergeant tell her he was a gift from Santa?
In a split-second, Daniel leapt from the sidewalk and ran across the grass in between the houses. He managed to squeeze himself through the tall shrubbery that surrounded the back and sides of the house. He heard voices coming from a slightly open window around back. He moved closer and crouched down below the sill. What he heard was unbelievable. The Sergeant was having sex with Kei Lien and not just any sex, she was sobbing. It didn’t take long for Daniel to realize that she was being raped.
He didn’t know what to do. Should he try to help her? Would he be arrested for interfering? How would he explain why he was eavesdropping?
When the Sergeant finished with her, he said, “Now stop crying. You asked for this. Don’t tell anyone. Now say you’re sorry.”
Kei Lien did as she was told.
After hearing the front door open and close again, Daniel immediately knocked on Kei Lien’s bedroom window. It startled her. She cautiously went to the window and peered out. Daniel stood facing her. His forehead wrinkled with worry. Red scratch lines all over his arms from the shrubs.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, still trying to wipe away her tears.
“Are you okay?” he asked, knowing full well she was not.
Kei Lien once again began sobbing.
“Let me take you away from this awful place,” Daniel said. “Let me help you. Is this the way your father is treating you as well, Kei Lien?”
Kei Lien just hung her head and nodded yes.
“I can’t come with you now, but I will meet you after dark somewhere. After I cook dinner for my father. After he goes to sleep.”
Why am I telling this guy all this? she wondered. I don’t even know him.
They agreed on an old barn near the Dayton County line. Kei Lien hoped she could find it. It had been a very long time since she ventured out of the yard, yet alone out of the area.
Chapter 10
Minh Nyung was just sitting down to eat when he was startled by someone banging on the front door and ringing the bell frantically.
“Who’s there?”
“I don’t know what to do or where to go” the shaky voice replied.
Minh cautiously pulled the curtain back to look out the window near his front door only to see a young woman. Her face covered in tears and what appeared to be blood on her legs. He immediately opened the door.
“What happened? Have you been in an accident?”
“I need a place to stay. I don’t want to go home anymore. It’s all my fault. I asked for this and I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Through the gasping, sobbing sounds and the runny nose, her voice lowered. “Does Daniel live here?”
She was weak and trembling.
“I know who you are. I think the police are looking for you. They thought you were dead. How do you know my son?”
Her eyes rolled back in her head. She passed out.
Chapter 11
“911. What’s your emergency?”
“My name is Minh Nyung. I need an ambulance at 211 Braxton Ave. A young woman came to my door asking for help. There is blood on her legs. She just passed out.”
“Help is on the way, sir. Please stay on the phone with me. Is she breathing?”
“Yes, barely. Could you contact the Cromwell Police Department and ask for a Detective Lake or a Detective Clayton? I believe this is the girl they are looking for.”
When the paramedics arrived, they jumped into action. One placed an oxygen mask over her face to help her breathe. Kei Lien started to move a little. The other, a young man, attempted to find out where the blood was coming from, but was stopped by her screams.
“You’re not Santa! Stay away from me!”
“Miss, we are just trying to help you,” he said, while trying to restrain her.
She kicked him so hard she laid open a gash on the young man’s face with the heel of her shoe. He fell backwards, but regained his balance quickly.
“Miss please, you need to let us help you. You’re bleeding. Calm down and breathe normally.”
“The oxygen will make you feel better,” said the female attendant. “Can you give us your name and where you live? Is there someone we can contact for you? We’re going to take you to a hospital.”
Minh who was watching this all unfold pleaded with her, “Kei Lien, please let them help you.”
With that she rolled over, got her legs under her, threw the oxygen mask, and ran like she had wings on her feet. Before the paramedics knew what happened, she was gone.
The call from the 911 dispatcher jolted Emerson Lake straight up in bed. Shaking the cobwebs out of his head, he picked up the phone. “Lake” he said still groggy.
The 911 dispatcher gave him the information. He hung up, tossed the sheets back and contacted his partner.
“Reese?”
“Who the hell else would answer my phone?”
“Get dressed.”
The paramedics and Minh were waiting inside when the detectives arrived. They were baffled by what happened. Not wanting to admit how they allowed the patient to escape.
“She ran toward the back of the house, through the bushes,” Minh explained. “I tried to follow, but she was too quick. Everything happened so fast. I can’t believe it. Detective, the last thing she said to me was, ‘Does Daniel live here?’ Daniel is my son. He’s not here now and I have no idea how she even knows him. He has never mentioned her.”
“When your son comes home, please contact us. We will need to ask him a few questions,” Clayton replied.
With that, she gave him her card with her contact information.
“Thank you, sir. You did the right thing calling 911 and having them contact us as well.”
On the way out the door, one of the paramedics stopped Detective Lake. “While I was trying to assess the injuries, she became violent and kicked my face.”
“I see that.”
“That’s not it. She screamed at me and said ‘You’re not Santa’. I don’t know what the hell that means, but it took me by surprise for sure.”
“Are you sure she said Santa?”
“Yes, very sure. As sure as the hole she left in my face.”
Emerson smirked. “Thank you. Anything else we need; we know where to find you. Here’s my card as well.”
“Mr. Nyung, Detective Lake or I will be in touch tomorrow. Unless your son comes home sooner.”
Chapter 12
Two bodies were on slabs in the morgue. No doubt they were murdered and by the same person or persons. Chief Medical Examiner for Dayton County Sara Hu
nter and her colleague Bill Oosterhout had received these disturbing bodies within hours of each other. Now it was up to them to determine cause of death. Seemed obvious, but still had to be done by the book.
Blood from each of the bodies was sent to the lab to check for abnormalities, narcotics, DNA. The gift-wrap was sent up as well. And then it began. Checking the bodies for bruises, broken bones, other knife wounds, bullet holes, even checking for needle marks.
“Sara, look at this? I don’t think the knife killed Mr. Chandler.”
Sara changed rubber gloves and stood next to Bill. “What did you find?”
“There are stitches at the base of his skull and it’s not from brain surgery, either. Unless the surgeon was drunk. What do you make of it?”
Sara Hunter had seen what she thought was most everything in her twenty-year career. This was a new one for sure.
“Let’s check the Sergeant. Help me roll him on his side so we can look.”
There it was. A poorly stitched incision at the base of his skull.
“Shit,” was all Sara could say. “We need to find out why they have matching incisions.”
Sara began removing stitches from Sergeant Kelsey. Sara was always professional, but she was finding increasing pleasure in cutting him up little by little. The town’s beloved Sergeant may have had everyone else fooled, but Sara knew better. He was a little bit too friendly you might say. Being the M.E., she would have to be in the same room with him at times. More often than not he would stand way too close to her. She could feel his breath around her hair and ear. The touch on her shoulder now and again was just too much. She asked him nicely one day to please remove his hand and step back a bit. He was not happy at her suggestion or her subtle accusation of him being in her space, but he did as he was told.
When the autopsy was done, neither Sara nor Bill could believe their findings, it appeared someone had hit him in the back of the head.
“There are definite fragments of something still visible,” Sara said.
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