by Lilya Myers
“What?” Sarah was astonished. Rachel was begging off just like that?
“It sounds like it would be a dream trip but really, Sarah, I’m just not the world traveler you are. I’m, you know… me, the homebody. And it’s not like I can walk into my job, and say to Russ and everybody, ‘Oh, by the way, I won’t be here for three weeks. Oh, and before I go, did I mention that I’ll be leaving in ten days? Ta-ta. No, I think…’”
Sarah was looking at the top of Rachel’s head, while Rachel buried her smile toward the floor. Sarah took the bait – hook, line, and sinker. “You’re kidding, right? I thought I might have to nudge you a bit but I never expected a flat out no!”
As Rachel raised her head slowly, she brought up both hands and pointed at Sarah. “Gotcha!” Before either of them could say another word, Rachel’s cell phone rang the familiar tune she chose especially as a Russ ringtone. She answered with particular cheerfulness and a big smile since she was feeling rather full of herself for putting one over on Sarah. Served Sarah right after she kept Rachel guessing all morning. She clicked on her phone and put her forefinger in the air to stop Sarah’s retort. “Hey honey.”
“Hey Rachel.” His voice was dull and void of his usual excitement. Usually he’d say, Hey Babe, or hey Rache – tease her with some pet name. Her smile went upside down.
“You called me, Russ. You’re supposed to sound a little more excited than that.” She was sorry after she said it. She knew how little sleep he was getting working the case.
“Rache. Look, I’ve got to cancel on you again tonight, and probably tomorrow night, and the night after that…”
“What’s wrong, Russ? Why do you sound like that? What…?” The fun that preceded the call faded from Rachel’s face. Sarah looked at her questioningly.
Russ swallowed hard on the other end, trying to collect his emotions before he spoke. Gentle now, Russ. I don’t want to say too much and scare her out of her wits. No telling how much she’s heard at work in the lab. It was all over the news, anyway, except now, for this one…
He exhaled. “Another body.” She could actually feel the blood drain from her face.
His silence for that brief moment sent a jolt up Rachel’s spine. She gasped back her shock. “Oh no, Russ.” Her lunch rose up in her throat. “Is…is it the same? You know…like the others?”
“Uh-hmm.” He hated calling Rachel with this news but she’d hear it soon enough and he’d rather she hear it from him. He hated even more not being with her. He had that gut-wrenching uneasy feeling. “This makes seven vics in just a couple of weeks and we don’t have a damn
thing …” He didn’t mention that all of the women were the same age as Rachel and Sarah. All of them were single. Maybe, that was one of the killer’s requirements.
CHAPTER 39
DETECTIVE ROMA HAD the reports. The binder holding the murder book was bulging at the seams. Each murder was becoming a sickening repetition of the other.
Until now, there was no doubt that all the murders were connected and the work of the same perp. Over all, the Mutilator had been fairly consistent but that was all. The police collected some evidence but nothing extraordinary enough to lead them down the path to a suspect, or even a person of interest. DNA testing, still in its infancy, wasn’t fully recognized for use in crime solving. Lab results could take months. Every lead they followed seemed to take them to a dead end. Literally.
Each girl had been sexually assaulted in ways that a normal mind couldn’t fathom. The M.E.’s exam had determined that mutilation of their genitals and breasts were carried out prior to or immediately post-mortem. They had been kicked and beaten. The women were still alive as their bodies were being carved. The killer almost always posed the bodies. Every one was found with her hands secured in some fashion, ligature marks where ties or duct tape had been used and removed.
Their legs were spread-eagled and secured by whatever means was available. The ligature marks on their necks, wrists, and ankles indicated that movement was completely restricted. A scarf, appearing to be homemade and designed specifically for this purpose, covered the entire head of the victim and draped to the shoulders. A veil attached at one side of the headpiece covered the rest of the face. Except for the eyes. Placed on the sockets were the severed nipples of the victims.
In all the murders, as in the first, the M.E.’s removal of the nipples off the eyes exposed the final horror. There were no wide-eyed looks of terror or shock that were typically found in a victim as they realized their fate. No. The eyes of these women had been burned out, leaving deep dark wells where the windows to their souls had once been.
It was hoped that death occurred because of heart failure and loss of blood. Examination of the eyes, if left intact, could have revealed other information. Considering all the facts and the extent of putrefaction of the bodies, the exact cause of death was listed as undetermined in all but one woman.
The police had no prints, no motives, no leads, and believed that the women had been murdered somewhere else, except for one. She was included in these serial murders because the rest of the killer’s M.O. was exactly the same. It was determined that the bodies were staged at the sites where they were found. All were stripped naked, exposing them in the most degrading way possible to lay bare every vile act committed on them.
While Russ never discussed the details of the case with Rachel, her work in the crime lab gave her firsthand clues about the atrocities of the murders. It wasn’t a stretch for the mind to put that into a visual context that was horrifying.
Sarah watched her friend’s face. The painful expression put Sarah at a loss for words. Nothing came to mind that was comforting and optimistic. Rachel fought to hold back the tears that had welled up in her eyes.
Russ was still talking on the other end of the phone, “Rache…I want you to stay with Sarah. I don’t doubt for a minute that she’ll be overjoyed to have you stay with her. In the meantime, I’m assigning a couple of officers to keep an eye on you two.”
“But….”
There was a resolute firmness now in Russ’s voice that transcended his always sexy, easy-going nature in all things concerning Rachel. “No arguments on this one. I’m going to be pulling long hours until this lunatic is behind bars. I’ll be lucky if I get to see you before the wedding. I’ll be lucky to be at the wedding if some dust doesn’t settle real soon.”
“You’re not serious, are you Russ?” Her voice was desperate now. “I mean, we’ve got the hall reserved, flowers, music,
“Look, whatever you’ve heard in the lab – it…it’s… that’s even a sanitized version of the truth, okay? We don’t have a clue about how he chooses his victims. And Rache, you know less than I’ve told you, okay? I’m all for freedom of the press but they don’t know that boundaries have a dire purpose sometimes. This is one of those times. I know that they’ll approach you since you’re the closest to me. And whatever you do, don’t talk to that Nina chick from the rag sheet.”
Rachel had all she could do to keep from falling apart. “Don’t worry, I understand.” Time to change the subject. “Russ, is Joey back on duty full-time?” Her voice cracked as she tried to calm down.
Joey had been Russ’s partner for quite a while. Everyone called them oil and water. When it came to loyalty, trust, and covering each other’s backs, they were more like Siamese twins. When it came to beer, football, and rules…well, that was your oil and water. It seemed like the other day; Joey had been on foot in pursuit of a suspect with a gun while Russ called for backup. The perp got off a shot that caught the upper part of Joey’s chest. No severe or long-term damage and thank God, it was his right side and not his heart. And, he was left handed. It put him out of commission for much longer than anybody in the department could stand. The Chief had to keep kicking him out of the station until his medical leave was officially signed off by the doctor. Under duress, knowing Joey. Joey Scenza was not the model patient.
Russ let out a soft chuckle. �
�Are you kidding? I think he signed over his pension to the doctor just to release him back to work early. Yeah, he’s back – finally, after what? Six weeks? About the time all this started. He’s an idiot for not taking his other four weeks medical leave. On the other hand, I’m glad he didn’t. It’s a huge relief to have him on a case like this. You know how Joey and I can bounce stuff off of each other. I think the Chief knew it too.” His voice took a serious turn again.
While the police didn’t have much to go on, what they did have was measured and dished out to the press in vague snippets. The talk in the forensics lab where Rachel worked wasn’t immune from embellishment either.
Russ continued, “You don’t have a concealed carry since our brilliant politicians changed the gun laws but you do have the nine millimeter in the safe. Look – we’ve spent enough time at the shooting range and… you just make damn sure you keep it within hand’s reach when you’re at home. At Sarah’s. And keep it loaded with a full clip. No pizza deliveries, and please, stay inside and use the treadmill if you want to run. Don’t leave the building, daylight or not, without having a guard walk you to your car. You’ll get their cell number.”
Sarah had been watching Rachel’s expressions go south. The conversation seemed to be all one-sided and in Russ’s court.
Suddenly, Rachel had an inspiration. “Russ,” she said, “Can you hang on a minute?” She could hear Russ sputtering as she turned to Sarah. But it had occurred to her that she and Sarah would be safer if they left town. “I need to tell him about Egypt,” she told Sarah. “I’ll explain later.”
Rachel got up from the booth. Sarah gave her a quick nod and shooed her with her hand. Sarah understood that there were some private things between Rachel and Russ that even her best friend didn’t share with her. Sometimes, conversations were just that. Private.
After she told him, Rachel clicked off and returned to the booth. “I guess I’m going to Egypt with you after all,” she told Sarah. “Actually, I was going to go anyway. I did want to discuss it with Russ first before I gave you a definite yes, even though I knew he’d never tell me no.” She sighed. “I think that conversation just closed the deal.” She tossed her phone in her purse.
Sarah nodded and reached for the tab. She could tell Rachel’s mood had changed to a nervous introspection. Sarah would never press her to discuss her conversation with Russ, although she knew that Rachel’s frame of mind had to do with the murders.
“Sarah – Russ wants me to stay with you until we leave. There’s just one itsy bitsy dictum. We’ll have company. Well, sort of, indirectly.” Rachel bit her lower lip. This was the one part she knew Sarah wasn’t going to like. It wasn’t in Sarah’s nature to be comfortable with the fact that someone thought she couldn’t take care of herself. “Russ said… no, um, insisted…emphatically that we have surveillance slash escorts with badges until we leave for overseas.”
This was one time Sarah wouldn’t question Russ’s wisdom, mostly for Rachel’s sake. “I’m okay with that,” she answered convincingly. It’ll only be for a couple of weeks.” An eternity.
Rachel picked at the rest of her meal until Sarah turned the conversation to what the weather would be like in Egypt and the shoes they’d need. Shoes, of course. The shields will love that assignment.
CHAPTER 40
“YOU’RE THE ONE with the iron stomach,” Russ said to Joey as they approached a booth in a secluded corner of a local diner. They were regulars. The place had been around for years because it served great food, making it popular among the guys on the force. It also happened to be close to the crime scene the two detectives just left. Another long night. Another mutilated young woman. Joey slid into the booth.
He looked around before he said to Russ, “I see that Nina was right on top of things.”
“What are you talking about?” Russ asked distractedly. His mind was on thoughts about the killer that he hadn’t yet shared with anyone.
Joey leaned over the back of his seat to the booth behind him where he had spotted the morning paper. The booth was empty now where a customer left the paper behind for the next person. He grabbed the folded paper with his fingertips and swung it around. “You know, Nina? The wonder newsgirl. That woman must sleep with headphones streaming the police band.” He read the headline out loud. “Mutilator claims another victim.”
“Please, don’t read it to me. I think we got the story firsthand. Besides, here comes Lena.”
Waitresses came and went at the diner, but Lena had been a fixture since the beginning. She knew a cop when she saw one. She had known these two for quite some time. She put on her most charming scowl and approached their table armed with two mugs and a fresh pot of coffee.
“You guys look like hell,” she said eyeing them sharply.
Well, thank you. So do you. Joey wouldn’t normally think that. Especially with Lena. He’d known her a long time. It’s just the day had already started out bad.
“You don’t wanna go there with me – I know what you’re thinking boy.” One darkly penciled eyebrow arched almost clear up to her hairline.
Detective Scenza’s ears turned scarlet before the blood started filling his cheeks. He was taught respect. Lena was old enough to be his mother. Hell, she was old enough to be his grandmother. If his grandmother ever caught him thinking disrespectfully – she was a mind reader like most Italian grandmothers – she would have about yanked his ear off its hinges. He honestly liked Lena but this had been another rough late night, early morning and his humor was turned to off. And Lena knew it. Plenty of cops in her family tree. Her father had been a cop. Her brother was due to retire before he was killed by a guy high on heroin. Both her son and son-in-law were cops in other states. She really liked these two young men. The mean eye and the veneer was just to keep them on their toes.
“What’s it going to be?” she asked as she filled their mugs.
Joey spoke up first. “I’ll take the special; three scrambled eggs, sausage and the pancakes on a separate plate, please. Extra syrup and butter.”
Lena stood with coffee pot in one hand, the other hand on her hip. She had been doing this for longer than these fellas had been alive. She didn’t need to write things down. She cleared her throat to summon Russ’s attention.
Russ looked up. She had on a new name tag. It said, Go ahead, make my day. A quote from an old Clint Eastwood film. It suited Lena. She was ornery as hell.
She didn’t wait for them to comment on her name tag before telling the story behind it. A few weeks ago, some rich California guy was passing through and came into the diner. His first mistake was to snap his fingers at Lena to get her attention. The rest of the story didn’t leave much to the imagination. Hence, the name tag.
“I believe I’ll just have coffee and toast,” Russ said with a smile. Lena didn’t smile back.
She stood there glaring at Russ, the coffee pot dangling in the air almost to her shoulder. She leaned forward and extended one manicured finger. It landed on the newspaper headline. After tapping it four or five times, she waited for him to look back up at her. Then she gave him her best intimidating look. “If you’re going to be worth your salt in catching that son-of-a-bitch, you’d better have your strength up. So, what’ll it be with that toast?”
“Really, I’ll just have –”
“I suppose you’re not only deaf but you’re blind too.” She stared him down for a moment and swept an eye down to her name tag to draw his attention to it. Go ahead, make my day.
Lena thrived on cheeky retorts just because she could give back whatever was dished out. Mostly, she smiled inwardly because she knew that she had finally broken through Detective Roma’s state of mind and pulled him out of the mire.
“You’ll just eat what I bring” she said loudly because she had already started back to the kitchen. Joey could hardly stifle his laugh, sloshing coffee out of the mug he was holding.
“What?” Russ asked indignantly.
Joey just shook his h
ead. It was just what they needed to free them temporarily from the images they left a couple of miles down the road. Lena knew when and how to use her brassiness for medicinal purposes. She grew up watching her mom use it on her dad. She practiced it on her brother when he joined the force. She had gotten quite proficient at it by the time her son became an officer.
Russ and Joey went over some details of the case while they waited for breakfast. The murder book was growing exponentially into an encyclopedic monstrosity. Lena had returned once to refill their coffee. The detectives’ conversation appeared intense so she came and went like a ghost.
Less than ten minutes later, Lena headed their way with the food. She had plates spread up and down one arm and a bus boy behind her with what she couldn’t carry.
“Oatmeal’s good and hot, Detective Rrrrrroma,” she said with an exaggerated roll of the r.
She began setting plates down in front of Russ first. He was just taking a sip of coffee. Bacon, eggs, toast, waffles, a bowl of fruit, and orange juice.
“Breakfast is on me,” Lena snorted, “so you’d better eat every last damn bite of yours, Detective Roma. No tellin’ if you’ll get lunch or dinner today, or for the next year.”
Lena put both hands on her hips. Then she thumbed a finger at Joey and said, “I have no worries about Old Ironsides here starving to death.” In a flash she was gone and missed the spray of coffee that nearly choked Russ. The geyser almost hit his partner head on.
Joey finished off the remains of Russ’s waffles. They left Lena an extra big tip. Not for the free breakfast. She knew just how to give them the brief escape they needed from the horrors that consumed their days and their dreams. They thanked her as they left and climbed into Russ’s unmarked car.