Better the Devil You Don't Know

by Mairsile Leabhair

  “Sarah?”

  Sarah rush out of the boy’s room and over to us. “Did you find her?”

  “No. How long has she been missing?” I asked as calmly as I could.

  “Twenty minutes,” Sarah replied distraughtly. “She would never be away from him that long. Not even to shower.”

  “Not even now that he’s doing better and you’re here?” I questioned.

  She looked puzzled and shook her head. “I’m not sure. But, Casey. She was only going to use the restroom. She wouldn’t wander off without telling me. That much I am sure of.”

  I turned to Lula even as I tapped on Becky’s number. “Sweep the bathrooms and search the area. Go!” Lula hurried off as Becky answered the phone. “Becky, we have a situation.”

  I spread my people out to do a thorough search of every floor, beginning with the stairwell and exit doors. Ten minutes later, Josh found the police officer stuffed in the housekeeping closet by an exit door, unconscious. It looked like he had been Tasered. He was taken to the ER. Lula found a syringe in the stairwell next to the exit door on the ground floor and radioed it in. The police had arrived by then, and Becky stationed another officer at the ICU door, but I still had Josh stay there and guard the patients. Then Becky and I rushed downstairs.

  “Did you touch anything?” Becky asked as we surveyed the area.

  “Nope, kept everybody away, too,” Lula replied.

  The syringe was on this side of the exit door alongside a pair of rubber gloves. It was almost full of a clear liquid, which if I had to guess would be something to render the victim unconscious. There was evidence that the killer had used that method before.

  “Here’s the strange part, Chief,” Lula said as she opened the door. The door led out to the back lot where the power plant building was housed, and on the step just outside the door was an upside-down pastry box with bagels scattered everywhere. Bagels?

  “No! No, no, no!” I cried, rushing down the hall to my office.

  “Chief, what is it?” Lula shouted, running after me.

  I heard Becky tell the cop who had been with us to guard the area, and then she ran after me also.

  “Michele!” I screamed, rushing in the door. I could smell the fresh coffee still dripping in the carafe. “Michele,” I shouted again, running into my office and then into the conference room.

  “Michele!” Lula called, running into the break room and then checking the bathrooms. “Michele, honey. Where are you?”

  Lula began panicking, running back and forth into the same rooms she had just checked. She ran past me and I grabbed her by the arm and shook her by the shoulders, as much to settle her down as to assuage my anger at her. All that bullshit about her sticking to Michele like glue and she lets her be taken before the coffee finishing dripping. I let go of her and stepped back. I could see the anguish in her tearing eyes and knew that it wasn’t her fault.

  First Scottie, then Michele… “Oh, God. Becky!” My heart stopped. My breath caught in my throat. I turned to her with panic in my eyes. “Celine?”

  We both got on the phone at the same time. I called Celine’s private number, but it rang and rang. I left messages. I texted her, but she didn’t respond. Becky called the police car stationed in front of her home, and they said they had escorted her to the hospital and watched her walk in the door before they left.

  I called the nurses’ station next to Celine’s office, and they said she hadn’t come in yet. I waited while they checked her office, but she wasn’t there. The acid in my empty stomach began to churn, sending it bubbling up to my throat so that I couldn’t breathe. This can’t be happening.

  “Okay, I just put out an all-points bulletin for all three of them,” Becky said, putting her cellphone away.

  Becky must have also called Bobbie, because she walked in a moment later and surveyed the room. “Fill me in,” she said, looking at me. When I didn’t respond, mainly because I was afraid I’d start crying, Becky gave the report.

  It was my nightmare all over again. Only this time there were three people who were in danger because of me. I could feel myself slipping into despair, and I wasn’t trying to stop it. I pulled out the bullet from my pocket and stared at it so intently that I didn’t hear anything Bobbie was saying until she shook me.

  “Snap out of it, damn it,” she demanded. “We need to get back to the scene and search the area. Come on. You can be upset later.”

  “Fuck you, Bobbie,” I barked at her.

  “You can do that later, too,” she retorted, pulling my arm toward the door.

  She was right, of course. Any delay in scouring the area could cost us precious evidence that might lead us to the killer. And by God, I was going to get this guy before he killed someone else. For the first time since that little boy laid dying in my arms, I cried to God to lead me to the women in time. I didn’t threaten, bribe or coerce. I pleaded from my heart.

  We went back down to the exit door and the police officer handed Becky an evidence bag with the syringe in it. She handed it to me.

  “I think that might be Michele’s blood on it,” I said, looking at it closely.

  “Oh, God, no,” Lula screeched.

  “Get her out of here,” Bobbie demanded.

  “No, please. I have to help,” Lula said more calmly, swallowing back a sob.

  “Let her be,” I ordered, taking Lula by the elbow and pulling her to the side. “Look, I’m as upset as you are, but you need to rein it in if you’re going to help Michele. Use your head, not your heart. Got it?”

  “Yes… yes, ma’am,” she replied, inhaling sharply to calm her breathing.

  “Let’s go up to the ICU and look around again,” I suggested. “We need to look closer for the evidence.” I turned back to Bobbie and Becky. “We’ll be in ICU if you find anything.” Bobbie nodded as Lula and I walked out the door.

  “Do you think we’ll find any evidence, Chief? They haven’t found much so far, have they?”

  Lula had a valid question, but I had a welcome answer. “He got cocky and messed up again. He left behind the syringe; maybe he left something else for us to find.”

  “I heard he left a bullet at the first crime scene. Do you think he left the syringe on purpose, too?”

  “No, I don’t. I think Michele put up a fight,” I replied.

  Lula exhaled through a smile. “That’s the feisty young woman I’m falling in love with.”

  I gazed at her skeptically. “I think you’ve already fallen off that cliff, Lula.”

  She laughed and nodded. “I think you’re right, Chief.”

  “How’s it feel?” I asked, truly curious. I had been in love once, but it was one sided and I vowed never to let that happen again. But I had to admit, there was a strong pull between two women who were vastly different in age and temperament. But I couldn’t let myself think that way. Not now while their lives were at stake.

  “Like an orgasm that lasts forever,” she gushed.

  “Okay, way too much information for me.”

  “Sorry, Chief. But you asked.”

  “Yeah, remind me not to do that again.” We walked into the ICU, and I saw Evelina talking to the police. “Oh, God. I forgot about her.”

  “Who’s that?” Lula asked.

  “Dr. Aponte’s sister. Listen…” I stopped and turned to Lula. “I’m going to talk with her and then with Sarah and while I’m doing that, I want you to go down to the ER and talk with the police officer, find out what he knows.”

  “You trust me with that, Chief?”

  “It’s not a matter of trust, but yes I do. Ask him things that you wouldn’t think the police would ask him. He’s a cop, trained for the details, but not the ordinary, mundane stuff, like what he had for breakfast.”

  “I don’t get it, why do we care what he had for breakfast?” she asked.

  “Because he might have had something to eat that was laced with a drug, causing him to be weak and amiable.”

  “Oh. Oka
y, I get it.”

  “Report back to me as soon as you’re finish with him.”

  “Roger that, Chief.”

  “And, Lula,” I said, stopping her as she turned to leave.

  “Yeah, Chief?”

  “Keep a cool head and do your job. No hero bullshit. We don’t have time, understand?”

  “Understood, Chief. Be back in a bit.” She dashed through the door and disappeared.

  The policeman talking with Evelina left so I walked over. “Are you all right?”

  “No. I’m not. The police aren’t doing anything to find my sister. Just standing around asking a bunch of damn questions.”

  “Believe me, they are doing everything possible, Evelina. When was the last time you talked with Celine?”

  “More questions,” she retorted.

  “I’m not the police, Evelina, so you don’t have to answer if you don’t want. But I am your sister’s friend, and I know a bit about detective work. I want to help.”

  She gazed at me for a moment and relented. “She came by here early this morning to say hello to me and check on Ms. Thomas. Then she was going up to her office. I called Janice at the nurses’ station, and she told me that Celine hadn’t be in there yet today.”

  “Yeah, that’s what they told me, too. Evelina, would she have detoured for any reason?”

  “It’s possible, I guess. But she already had her coffee in her hand, and she rarely ate breakfast, so it wouldn’t have been for that.”

  “Does she take the stairs or the elevator?’

  Evelina smiled. “It depends on if she’s in the mood to exercise. Today she was. I saw her take the stairs.”

  It all seemed to be happening around the stairs. Michele, Celine…

  “What about Scottie? I mean, Ms. Thomas. We believe that she stepped out to use the bathroom.”

  “Yes. She waved at me as she walked by. But I haven’t seen her since, and I know she’d never be gone very long.”

  “So I hear. Listen, here’s my card.” I pulled my business from my jacket pocket and handed it to her. “If she calls or texts or anything, please let me know, okay?”

  She took the card but said nothing for a moment as her eyes searched mine for answers I didn’t have. “You’ll find her, won’t you, Chief?”

  My eyes blinked involuntarily, flashing back to a promise I made to Michele. I felt suddenly impotent, useless, incompetent. But the pleading in her words urged me to cover up my weaknesses and give her some hope. “I’ll find her, Evelina. I promised her a date after this was all over with.”

  Dorey came rushing in, flushed and worried. “I just heard about Michele,” she said breathlessly. “We have to find her.”

  Before I could calm her, Lula came running in and over to the desk. “Chief, he left a message,” she said. She was wearing rubber gloves and holding a slip of paper.

  There was a box of latex gloves sitting on the counter and I grabbed two, putting them on as fast as I could. “Where did you find it?”

  “The cop found it in the top right hand pocket of his uniform. It must have been put there after he was knocked unconscious because he assured me he didn’t know it was there.”

  The paper, no larger than a notepad, was folded in half and my name was written on one side. I unfolded it and read the handwritten note. “You have my father’s bullet. His father’s bullet? What bullet? I looked at the note, and then slowly dug into my jeans pocket and pulled out the bullet I’d been carrying with me for over a year now. “Oh my God.”

  “What is it, Chief?” Lula asked. “Is that the bullet he’s talking about?”

  “Bobbie. Where’s Bobbie?” I asked, looking around for her. I grabbed Lula’s shoulders, panic skittering across my nerves. “I need Bobbie, now!” I pulled out my cellphone and tried to tap Bobbie’s phone number, but I was shaking so badly that I dropped the phone. Dorey picked it up and finished making the call. Then she handed the phone to me, putting her hand on my arm. “Bobbie. ICU. Now!” That was all I could manage to say before my knees buckled, and I had to grab the counter to keep from falling.

  His father’s bullet.

  Dorey and Lula coaxed me out of the ICU and into a quiet room just as Bobbie and Becky came flying down the hall. I jumped up as Lula showed her the note. I held out my trembling hand, still holding the bullet.

  “Son of a bitch. What the hell is going on?” Bobbie asked.

  “I don’t know. I don’t know,” I muttered, raking my fingers through my hair. “Is this revenge? Is he killing because of me? Because I killed his father?”

  “No, he was killing long before you got here, Casey,” Becky offered.

  “Maybe he figured out who you were?” Lula said. “I’m not sure why you’re carrying a bullet around, but maybe he saw it and put two and two together.”

  “That’s it. That’s why he suddenly changed his MO,” I blurted, waving my finger at Lula as I looked at Bobbie. “His priorities changed when he found out who I was.” My brain switched over to detective mode again, and I began barking orders. “Bobbie, can you get me the info we pulled on Harold Brooks, the guy I shot last year?”

  She nodded. “Will do. I remember that he had other children, but none of them were involved as I recall.”

  “Right, we checked them off the list pretty quickly, but obviously we missed something.” I turned to Becky next, my eyes wide with nervous excitement. “Becky, I think the bullet we found at the first crime scene came from my service revolver. See if you can trace it back to my gun somehow. I know it would have been put back into the system, but they keep an inventory of who they go to. Also, can you put a rush on that syringe and the drug that was in it?”

  “I’m already on it,” Becky replied. “But I don’t think it’s Novocain or something that a dentist would use. It looks more like a disposable syringe you can buy over the counter at any drug store. Like for diabetes or animal injections, that kind of thing.”

  If someone had taken a baseball bat and hit me up side my head, it would have hurt less than what suddenly slammed into my brain. My, God. I know who the killer is!

  Chapter Thirty

  Michele Michaels

  I woke up in a dark, unfamiliar room with a pounding headache. I tried to rub the pain but my hands were bound behind me. Then I realized my eyes were blindfolded, too. Don’t panic. Stay calm. Think of the chief. She’s a rock. Think of Lula… oh please, find me. “Hello? Anyone there?”

  “I’ll be with you in a minute, Michele,” a mechanical-sounding voice said.

  The voice was very close to me, and I tried to move away from it, but I was wedged in-between something. I touched it with my fingers, and it was warm and soft. Oh, God. It’s a body! I panicked, thrashing about trying to escape. “Let me go!”

  “Now, now, now. No screaming, Michele,” the voice said.

  “Who are you? Where’s Byron?”

  “I didn’t need him anymore so he’s dead,” came the answer. “Don’t worry, I hid the body so even the mighty Chief Dennis won’t find it.”

  “Why?” I cried. Suddenly I felt something clamp over my mouth. I think it was duct tape because the adhesive tore at my lips when I tried to scream again.

  “No time to explain now. You were naughty and put me behind schedule,” I heard him say, and then I heard footsteps walking away from me, thank God, and a door opened and closed. Finally, after I heard a key turn in the lock, I began to breathe again.

  Don’t panic. Stay calm. I repeated over and over again in my mind. I tried to be rational, but my fear, the terror in my heart, wouldn’t allow it. Byron is dead... I’m going to die next. He’s the serial killer and I’m going to die.” “No!” I screamed, but it came out more of a shrill grunt. I lost it. Hysteria consumed me and I thrashed about again. Even though my feet were also bound together, I kicked blindly, as I punched wildly. Suddenly, I heard a groan when my feet connected with something soft.

  That probably should have frightened me more, but ins
tead, it calmed me and peaked my curiosity. It wasn’t a dead body after all. Someone else was there, lying beside me. “Hello?” I grunted through the tape. “Is someone there?” Oh, please. Let it be someone who can help me.

  The body beside me began to stir, and then I heard mumbling that turned into screeching, muffled as my screaming had been. They must be bound and gagged, too. I started talking rapidly until I realized that I couldn’t be understood. I felt around, trying to make contact with the other prisoner. I touched skin and ran my fingers over it until I felt a hard strip of plastic. Zip ties. Their wrists were bound with zip ties so I knew that mine had to be also. I patted the arm and continued feeling my way down when fingers grabbed mine. I held them tight, feeling relieved that I wasn’t alone. I pulled my fingers away and tried to feel my way back up the arm. I angled my butt so my hands could reach up the body and I felt shoulder blades. Then I felt silky, long hair. Celine? It had to be her.

  Now, how to communicate with her. How can I make her understand me? We can’t talk, we can’t see and we can barely move. I positioned myself so that my hands were back down by hers and we held each other’s fingers tightly. I tried talking again, but all I got from her was undecipherable muffled grunts. Then I remembered something Dorey and I had been working on yesterday for our staff meeting this morning. Communicating with songs. If we had a child who was distraught, we could try to calm them with a song. This would be much more difficult, trying to play charades by humming songs, but I didn’t have any other ideas.

  I began humming some of Celine Dion’s greatest hits in hopes that it was Celine I was lying next to and that she knew who Celine Dion was. I was pretty sure that everyone knew who she was. I, of course, was her biggest fan. I hummed several melodies; The Power of Love, Because You Loved Me, My Heart Will Go On, and kept humming them until her hand started waving mine back and forth. Then she started humming The Prayer and I knew it was Celine.

  Celine was younger than me by probably twenty years, but I took a chance that she would recognize the song, We Gotta Get Out of this Place, by The Animals. She didn’t. She tried humming a song I didn’t know at first, but then recognized I Know I am Not the Only One by Sam Smith. Was she talking about me? She tapped my palm and placed three fingers in it. Oh my God. Someone else was in here with us. I balled my fist and tapped her fingers, letting her know I understood. Ms. Thomas must have been captured, too.