The Killing Ground (foxx files)

by Syd Parker

  “Wow.” Rebecca watched the proverbial layers fall away, and she learned more and more about the strength of the woman beside her. “Troublemaker, huh?” She said with a mischievous smile.

  “Pretty much.” Jordan shrugged.

  “So, what saved you from a life on the other side of the law?”

  “Woz. Tony Wozniak.” Jordan added quickly, as if supplying a full name would make him any more recognizable to Rebecca. “I was already into some pretty bad shit. We stole stuff, lifted cars, you name it. Life on the streets was pretty rough. I was this close to messing up for real when I walked past this gym. I saw a sign for boxing lessons. I figured I might as well sign up. That would give me a way to defend myself that wasn’t a gun or a knife. Woz took me under his wing, and I’ve been following him ever since.”

  “Sounds like a good guy.”

  Jordan nodded. “He is. Kind of the father I never had. Woz is retired FBI, and I was lucky enough to mentor with him before he left. I learned everything I know from him.”

  “You probably knew a lot already, and some of it can’t be learned. You just have it.” Rebecca knew from her own job as a Detective that you could learn to investigate, shoot, all the tangible lessons, but the intangible ones, the visceral side of being a cop, you couldn’t learn. The sixth sense, following a gut feeling, knowing what leads to follow, when to shoot, that was something a person was born with. You either had it or you didn’t. She was pretty certain she had it, maybe not as sure of herself as Jordan was, but she was no slouch.

  “Yeah, I’m sure some of it I picked up on the street, but a great deal of it I owe to Woz. You know you can learn a lot from boxing.” Jordan’s voice was suddenly serious, and her features became schooled with the look of someone about to divulge the secret to all life’s questions. She was certain boxing had taught her enough to keep her alive.

  “How so?” Rebecca asked, interested to see how Jordan would relate boxing to life, or the job.

  “Reading people, their tells. You learn to see what side is someone’s weak side. What punches they are going to throw. If they drop their chin or their shoulder a certain way. How they plant their feet. Where they hold their gloves. It’s a game just like this whole thing is. It’s all about seeing the signs. Woz taught me that.”

  “He may have helped you strengthen what you already had, but I still say, some things you can’t teach, and that is one of them.” Rebecca studied Jordan’s face. She saw a hint of self-deprecation in her eyes and knew that years of knowing she had been abandoned had taken their toll. “You can’t just admit you are that good, can you?”

  “Oh, I can admit I’m that good.” Jordan’s face broke into a smile. She couldn’t take talking about her childhood and growing up too long. If she did, the anger and betrayal of being left would come flooding back and hit her square in the stomach with a sickening punch.

  “Sarcasm. Good defense.” Rebecca smiled to soften her words. “You cover anything serious with humor to protect yourself. Do you ever allow yourself to be serious about anything but boxing?”

  Jordan shrugged. “I try not to. Listen, it was hard enough growing up that way. I hate thinking about it, much less talking about it. This job, boxing, whatever else I choose to do, makes me forget the pain. My dad left, I pretty much raised myself, big deal. You can talk to a hundred people and more than half of them will have the same story. There’s no point in rehashing that shit all the time.”

  “Maybe not. But it did make you who you are today, and I’ll allow myself this small indulgence. To say that at least the little I know about you, it made you into a woman I admire and respect.”

  “And maybe you are attracted to…a little bit?” Jordan’s eyes sparkled.

  Rebecca shook her head. “Do you ever give up?”

  “No.” Jordan stopped and turned Rebecca towards her, paralyzing her with her gaze. “And something tells me you don’t want me to give up.”

  Rebecca’s response froze in her throat as she realized she wanted just that. Someone who matched her drive with the same intensity she had. She knew in that moment, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that whatever Jordan set her mind to, she would get.

  Chapter 13

  Jordan watched Rebecca walk to her car and drive off. She shook her head. Much as she didn’t want to admit it, she was quickly starting to like this woman, and from past experience, that only meant trouble.

  She didn’t want a relationship. She had learned the hard way, people didn’t stick around long, and she wasn’t in the mood to put herself out there, just to get left. No, her mom had done that, and she wasn’t a believer in repeating someone else’s mistakes. It was a shame, though. Detective Foxx was someone she knew she would enjoy having sex with. What a waste!

  When she walked back into the office, Matt pulled her aside quickly. “I got something I think you’re going to want to see.”

  She followed him down to the lab. The display on the dual monitors was a pair of graphs that, at first glance, looked very similar. “Is this what I think it is?”

  His eyes sparkled. “Yeah. And you’re not going to believe who it matches.”

  “One guess.” Jordan smirked. “And I’ll get to tell Rebecca I was right.”

  Matt’s smile vanished. “Rebecca? Sounds like a lot has happened with you working point on this.”

  Jordan smiled sheepishly. “Chill, Matty. It’s nothing like what you’re thinking. We simply learned how to get along.” She turned away to hide the blush. If anything, things were starting to get interesting, and Matt didn’t need to hear that the object of his crush didn’t swing his way, or at least Jordan didn’t believe she did. “So, tell me I’m right.”

  Matt watched her warily. He didn’t know what to make of her explanation for being on a first-name basis, but he had known Jordan long enough to know that she had a way with women. “You’re right…sort of.”

  Jordan quirked an eyebrow. “What do you mean sort of?”

  “I had NDIS run a search of the Forensic Index against the Convicted Offender Index. I got a couple of hits on cold cases from 2007. Two unsolved rape cases. Same MO, and like Julie, the UNSUB was interrupted before he could kill them. Detectives couldn’t put a face to the perp, so they shelved the cases.”

  “So, how does that make me right?” Jordan sounded exasperated, but in truth, she was intrigued. A tie to several unsolved cases might make this series of murders easier to solve.

  “I’m getting to that.” He pointed at the screen, and Jordan’s eyes followed his finger to the DNA markers on the screen. “This is the UNSUB’s DNA on the left. On the right is Richard Hudson’s DNA from the NDIS. Both match the DNA sample left at the scene. They would never have gotten a hit on Richard Hudson. We only did because you asked me to check against the Convicted Offender Index.”

  “Son of a bitch.” Jordan shook her head in disbelief. “That fucking bastard killed his own wife.”

  “CDD never would have made the connection. His DNA isn’t in CODIS.”

  “Shit.” Jordan slapped her leg. “She fell for his whole distraught husband routine and let him walk right out the fucking door. He’s probably halfway to China by now.”

  A cryptic smile spread across his face. “If he’s running, it’s in a car.”

  Jordan regarded him quizzically. “What do you mean?”

  “Let’s just say when this popped up, I took the liberty of putting him on the no-fly list."

  “Genius.” Jordan slapped him on the back. “This is why you are the brains of the operation.”

  “And the looks, don’t forget.” Matt’s smile grew broader. He tapped her phone. “Guess you better call your friend Rebecca and tell her the good news.”

  Jordan shot him a parting smile and winked. “Remind me, I owe you a steak.”

  “Just go. Get that bastard.” Matt watched her back disappear down the hallway. He hadn’t let on that he saw the blush or believed that there was anything between Jordan and Rebecca, bu
t Matt was no fool. It only took one look in her face to know that Jordan was emotionally invested in the Detective, even if they hadn’t slept together.

  He should have been mad, but instead he felt worry in the pit of his stomach. If he read the look correctly, Jordan was interested in more than just sex, and she had no idea the rough road ahead. And that he didn’t begrudge her that at all.

  Jordan was halfway to Grand Central before she dialed Rebecca’s number. She held her breath waiting for the voice she knew would make her stomach flutter. When Rebecca picked up, she wasn’t disappointed. She smiled in spite of herself. “Hey, stranger.”

  Rebecca could hear the smile in her voice. “Hi, yourself.”

  “You ready for some interesting news?” Jordan asked cryptically.

  “If by interesting, you mean good then yes, I do want some interesting news.”

  “I just left the lab. Matt ran the sample you gave us from Julie’s attacker against the Forensic Index and the Convicted Offender Index in NDIS. He got a hit, well, two, actually.”

  Rebecca processed the information. “It’s starting to get interesting. Continue.”

  “Two unsolved rapes from 2007. Same MO, and like Julie, the women got away before they were murdered. This is where it gets interesting. The DNA from those unsolved cases matches Richard Hudson.”

  Rebecca let out a loud sigh. It looked as though they had finally gotten a break in the case and were one step closer to catching what the press had dubbed The Cradle Killer. “Is this where I’m supposed to jump in and say you were right?”

  “Normally, yes.” Jordan said seriously. “But I think you and I both know, that more important than you admitting I’m right, is bringing this guy to justice.”

  “I’d say it’s time to pay Richard Hudson another visit.” Rebecca rubbed the bridge of her nose. A headache was starting just behind her eyes, and she could feel the blood pulsating behind her right eye. She grabbed a bottle of ibuprofen off her desk and fought with the cap. “Shit.”

  “Problem, Detective?”

  “Nothing painkillers won’t get rid of…if I can ever get this damn childproof cap off.” She pushed up with her thumb, almost calling it quits when, at the last minute, it popped off and rolled to the floor. “Are you on your way?”

  “Here.”

  Rebecca looked up startled. She put her phone down and stared at Jordan. “Don’t you know it’s a bad idea to scare a cop?”

  Jordan eyed the full holster on her desk and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. Traffic wasn’t that bad for this late.”

  Rebecca tossed the pills into her mouth and chased them down with a swig of day old, cold coffee. “Ugh.”

  “You ready?”

  “Yeah. Let me call it in. I am not meeting that guy without backup.”

  “What?” Jordan’s feigned mock horror. “You don’t trust me to keep you safe?”

  “Given what we’ve seen him do to the victims, I am not taking any chances.” Rebecca grabbed her coat off the chair. She was about to put it on when Jordan took it from her. She stood behind her and held it for her to slip her arms in then pulled it up over her shoulders. “Thanks.”

  Twenty minutes later, Jordan eased to a stop two houses down from Richard Hudson’s house.

  “Why are you stopping?” Rebecca pointed to the nondescript car sitting opposite the house. “Plain clothes are already here. Let’s get this bastard.”

  “Doesn’t this seem too easy?” Jordan rubbed her chin. “Julien said he was smart. This seems all wrong. Do you honestly think he would be dumb enough to give us a trail of bread crumbs? Leaving his DNA at the scene. He might as well have left his business card.”

  “I’m sure he didn’t leave it on purpose. He got spooked. And you said yourself-he technically doesn’t have a record. He would have no reason to believe the DNA would lead us to him.”

  Jordan shrugged. “Maybe you’re right.”

  “Besides this is your guy. You called it.”

  “I guess so.” Jordan opened the door, got out and nodded at the undercover officers. “How do you want to do this?”

  “Just a conversation. I want to get this guy downtown. Have a little chat with him. I can’t arrest him without a warrant, and I don’t want to give him a reason to run.”

  “Works for me. You take the lead.” Jordan followed Rebecca up the steps to his door, taking in her surroundings. In the dull glow of the porch light, she could just make out flowerbeds. Neat and tidy, despite the fact that the winter had killed all the plants, and there was only rock filling them. The house was impeccable and showed no visible signs of wear.

  Meticulously cared for, some would say. Jordan’s mind went to Julien’s profile of the UNSUB. Meticulous would certainly describe him. He didn't leave but one loose end. She rapped on the door loudly and saw a faint light at the back of the house. She was carefully schooling her face to look as nonchalant as possible, which was a difficult task, given the fact that she knew how brutally he had treated those women.

  What seemed like an eternity later, Richard Hudson finally answered the door. His clothes hung haphazardly, and his eyes were puffy and swollen. He held a half-empty bottle of tequila, and Jordan could tell this wasn’t his first.

  “Detective?” His voice slurred, and the word was almost lost in a mumble of incoherence. “Can I help you?”

  Rebecca stepped forward, stopping just shy of the door. “Mr. Hudson, there’s been some new developments in the case. We’d like to get you up to speed.” She looked around, feigning suspicion. “In a more secure location, if possible.”

  His inebriated state erased the suspicion he might normally feel at their oddly timed arrival. In fact, if asked, Jordan could swear it appeared as though his eyes lit up. God, he’s good.

  “Sure. Right now?”

  He started to pitch forward, and Rebecca caught him at the shoulders, righting him quickly. She felt the sinewy muscles beneath his sweater, and she could see where someone with his wiry, but strong build, would have no trouble subduing a woman, especially one in late-stage pregnancy. “Is an hour okay? I can have plain clothes bring you down…since you’re in no condition to drive.”

  He flicked his eyes to the bottle and laughed sardonically. “Seems to be the only thing holding me together right now.”

  Rebecca stepped back, freeing up his personal space. She wasn’t sure what to make of the man in front her. He didn’t seem like a cold-hearted killer, but she was sure they hadn’t contaminated the DNA. “We can wait until tomorrow, if you would prefer.”

  Jordan let out a quiet sigh. She wasn’t sure what angle Rebecca was playing, but was pretty certain she would have approached it differently, for fear of giving him a chance to run. She bit her tongue to keep from talking.

  “No.” He stood up straighter, suddenly sober. “I’ll come now.”

  Rebecca nodded her ascent and walked off the porch. She stopped at the dark sedan parked across the street. “Bring him down to Grand.”

  On the way back to the Precinct, Rebecca called the Assistant DA, pulling him away from dinner. She gave him the information she had on the case and requested a warrant for Richard Hudson’s arrest.

  She hung up the phone and turned to Jordan. “I just want to be ready.”

  “Good plan.”

  “Once he realizes what we have on him, he’s going to run or lawyer up, and I’m not letting him slip through the cracks this time.” Rebecca toyed with a piece of lint on her pants. “Thank you, by the way.”

  “For?” Jordan turned and studied her face.

  “We wouldn’t have caught him without you.”

  “Sure you would have. Just maybe not as fast.” Jordan smiled sincerely. “With or without the FBI’s help, you would have eventually tracked him down.”

  Rebecca shook her head. “I’m not so sure about that. He got away with at least two rapes and who knows what else.”

  Jordan captured Rebecca’s hand in hers, and gave it a reassuring sq
ueeze. The initial contact made her jump. Heat radiated from her palm straight to her stomach and a pleasant flutter started building within. She let go just as quickly, afraid her feelings would get the better of her. “Let’s not split hairs. It doesn’t matter who is responsible for catching him. Let’s worry about taking him down. No mistakes.”

  “No mistakes.” Rebecca repeated the words almost to herself. She rubbed her hand subconsciously. She couldn’t remember a time when her body had reacted to another woman the way hers did with Jordan. A simple, harmless touch and she was ready to come unglued, and that was unacceptable. Rebecca Foxx didn’t come unglued for anyone.

  Chapter 14

  Jordan watched Rebecca lead Richard Hudson into one of the precinct’s three interrogation rooms. She offered him water, which he summarily refused. She watched his body for signs of guilt. Hands he couldn’t still, eyes that looked around shiftily. There were none.

  She wanted to sit with Rebecca while she interviewed him, but she had been refused, and now she was stuck on the opposite side of the glass listening to a tinny, second-rate version of the conversation.

  “Mr. Hudson, I wanted to bring you down here so we could get a better idea of your wife’s habits, find out if there was anyone that she fought with recently, something to help us build a timeline up to her death.” She opened a folder. “Do you mind if I start with some questions?”

  He shook his head. “No. I want to help. I want you to catch whoever did this to my wife.”

  She nodded and read several notes before continuing. “Give me a rundown of your wife’s day. Does she work outside the home?”

  “Yes.” He winced with renewed pain. “Lizzie and I fought about that all the time.”

  Rebecca raised an eyebrow and regarded him suspiciously.

  “We argued, okay? I didn’t hurt my wife, if that’s what you’re thinking.” His eyes softened. “Lizzie didn’t need to work. I make enough. But that’s the type of woman she is. She was a teacher at Northwest Middle School.”