With the Eyes of a Killer: A Jessica Roberts Detective Novel

by BJ Wingate

  Vanessa waited a few minutes more, then turned off the kettle, walked into the living room, and put the knife back on the stand, blood and all. She then took what money was in Mary’s bag, grabbed her own, and let herself out of the apartment. She hadn’t touched anything other than the knife until she left, and she still wore the gloves. Once outside the building, she pulled the blood-stained gloves off turning them inside out as she did, tucked them into her purse, smiled, and started walking up the street. She had been worried over nothing. It hadn’t been as hard as she had thought it might be.

  Three

  Jessica Roberts was a new detective. She had gone through the academy with high honors, having maxed almost everything then done her stint as a patrol officer. She had only received her promotion to detective a month before and here she was on her first murder investigation. Not that it was going to take a lot of investigating, or so she thought. The woman, one Mary Jacobson, was found by her husband, dead on the kitchen floor. The ME had stated death as a result of blood loss due to her throat having been slit from behind. From the angle of the cut, it was thought to be a right-handed person that did it. Jessica’s partner, Tony Davaco, was in the hall talking to a neighbor who said she hadn’t heard much the night before. Tony had been a detective for several years but didn’t seem to mind a new female detective as his partner.

  The two uniformed officers who had been first on the scene were standing in the living room, talking quietly. Jessica went in there to talk to them. The husband, Brandon Jacobson, was sitting on the couch. He looked a bit worse for wear like he had been heavily drinking the night before. Jessica looked from him to the officers and walked past them to talk to Mr. Jacobson.

  “Mr. Jacobson?” Jessica said quietly. He looked up and nodded. “At what time did you find your wife?”

  Brandon leaned back, running a hand over his face. “I … it was around four a.m. I think. Might have been a little later. Not sure. I was out with the guys most of the night.” He didn’t meet Jessica’s eyes and she took note of that. Guilty people never wanted to meet your eyes.

  “Can you tell me where you were? And who with? We will need to check your story out.” Jessica was making notes in her pad as she spoke.

  “Um, yeah, of course.” Brandon rattled off the names of three bars and the names of three of his friends as well. Jessica wrote it all down.

  “At what time did you meet up with them Mr. Jacobson?” Jessica started letting her eyes wander around the room. CSI would be going over it as well, but she liked making herself aware of what was there. It had been a part of her training that she had liked.

  Brandon shook his head. “I don’t remember. Maybe twelve-thirty or one a.m.? Might have been sooner.” He was looking nervous that was sure.

  Jessica made a note of all of that as her eyes drifted over the shelves to one side. “And what exactly did you do? Did you play cards? Or just drink? Or what?” She stopped when she saw the knife. Her eyes narrowed slightly.

  Brandon hesitated. “Uh, mostly drank and bull shitted.” He looked at Jessica for a minute. “Wait, why am I getting the third degree here? I called you guys when I found her!” He half rose to his feet and one of the uniforms put a hand on his shoulder to restrain him.

  Jessica held up a hand and walked towards the shelf. She had been right. There was something on the blade. “Connor!” She yelled. Brandon surged to his feet again and the two uniforms were on him, pushing him back down on the couch, their hands on his shoulders.

  Jensen Connor came out of the kitchen and looked at Jessica. “Yeah, what’s up?”

  Jessica pointed at the knife. “Can you tell if that is blood or not?” She stepped to the side so Connor could get closer.

  Jensen walked over, inspected the weapon without touching it, and nodded. “Looks like it. Looks to be the right shape too, but I’ll have to take it to the lab for a final inspection.”

  Jessica nodded, turned back to Brandon. “Does this knife belong to you, Mr. Jacobson?”

  Brandon Jacobson looked ready to explode. The man had anger issues, that was for sure. The two uniforms each had one arm holding him in place. “Yeah, it’s mine. What of it? Because I own a knife, you’re going to think I did it? Let go of me! I have rights you know! Let me go!”

  Jessica took a breath. “Brandon Jacobson you are under arrest for the suspicion of murdering your wife, you have the right to remain silent, …” and she droned on reading him his Miranda Rights. The uniforms cuffed him then led him out still yelling to be released. Tony stuck his head in as they went by. Jensen was busy putting the knife and the stand into evidence bags.

  “You think he did it?” Tony Davaco was around six feet tall, fairly well built with wavy brown hair and brown eyes. His hair had a habit of falling over his eyes and he was always pushing it back.

  Jessica nodded. “Could be. The knife is his, looks like blood on the blade. Jensen will make sure, right?” The last word was said in Jensen’s direction and he nodded. “Basic rule is in most cases the husband did it.”

  “Absolutely. CSI will do the final sweep for anything I might have missed, and my assistant and I will get the body back as well. I’ll let you know as soon as I have something.” With that, his assistant came in with a trolley for the body and a body bag and they moved off into the kitchen.

  Tony and Jessica made their way out of the apartment building leaving the rest to the experts. She told Tony all she had gotten from talking to Brandon and her suspicions. Together they headed out to check the various bars he had told her about and see if they could find the so-called friends.

  After several hours, their search brought them to a small dive bar where Brandon and his wife Mary had been the night before. The bartender told them about the fight he had witnessed and the time it had happened. That had been around midnight. One of the three friends Brandon had named had told Jessica and Tony that this was one of a few places Brandon liked to visit.

  Walking into the place was almost claustrophobic for Jessica. She didn’t like small spaces and though the bar wasn’t tiny, it was – in a way – confining. She looked around and saw only two patrons in the tavern other than the bartender. He was sitting on a stool behind the bar reading a newspaper. Glancing up when they walked in, he straightened and folded the paper on the counter.

  “Can I help you folks?” the bartender said.

  Jessica walked over with the pictures of Mary and Brandon Jacobson. “Did you see these people in here last night?”

  The bartender looked at the pictures and nodded. “Yeah, they come in fairly often.” He looked first at Jessica then at Tony. “Something wrong?”

  Tony nodded. “You could say that. What time were they here?”

  The bartender thought for a minute. “Let’s see. They came in around eleven or so then he left around … I think it was like midnight. Maybe.”

  Jessica and Tony exchanged a look. “What did she do when he left?” Jessica said.

  The bartender picked up a cloth and wiped the top of the bar slowly. “She stayed for a bit. She was crying when he left you see.”

  Jessica frowned. “Crying? Any idea why?”

  The bartender scoffed. “He hit her is why. Slapped her so hard it sounded like it a shot going off. But they were in that corner booth over there. Then he got up and staggered on out the door.”

  Tony leaned on the bar. “And she stayed? For how long?”

  “Fifteen, twenty minutes maybe. A lady had come in just before that and she went to try and help her. They left together, the ladies I mean.” The bartender stopped wiping the bar and leaned both hands on it. “Something happened to her didn’t it, the one that was crying? That man. Last night wasn’t the first time I saw him being mean to her. Called her names a few times, other things. But last night was the first time I saw him hit her. If he hadn’t left, I’d have told him to.”

  Jessica nodded. “Thank you for your help. Ah, one last question. Can you describe the other lady? And has
she been in here before?”

  The bartender gave them a description which Jessica wrote down. “But last night was the first time I had ever seen her. No clue who she might be.”

  Jessica nodded, then she and Tony walked outside.

  Tony put both hands on his hips. “Not unusual for a woman to help another woman.”

  Jessica sighed. “And not many women would slit another’s throat like that.”

  They glanced at one another and headed back to the precinct.

  Four

  Alyson woke up Sunday morning intending to go to church. She wasn’t a regular by a long shot, but she tried. However, she knew she wouldn’t be making it there that morning. Her head hurt and her mouth felt dry as a desert. She hadn’t felt all that great the day before either. She walked a bit shakily to the kitchen, turned on the water, and drank at least two full glasses of cold water. Refilling it one last time she wandered over to her couch and settled in. If nothing else there were plenty of preachers on different television channels she could watch. That was the norm for her anyway. Most just wanted money but often the sermons would be good.

  Alyson flipped on the TV, scanned through a few channels, and stopped to take a sip of water. The news show was on and an older and slightly balding reporter was talking. She tuned in enough to learn that a murder had occurred the night before on the other side of town before she changed channels again to a movie she liked. She had seen it a few times but that was fine. She tended to doze off in the middle so maybe this time she would get to see the entire thing. An hour later she sighed, got up feeling a little better, and went to take a shower and get dressed.

  Shopping was done on Sundays too but since Alyson didn’t have any money that wasn’t going to happen. Maybe she would just go for a walk in the park or something. She dressed comfortably in well-worn jeans and a dark blue t-shirt. Then she pulled on a pair of well-worn tennis shoes, slipped on a light jacket, and headed out the door. She didn’t bother with her purse since she wouldn’t be driving anywhere and wouldn’t need her ID. Instead, she took her keys from her purse to carry with her.

  Alyson locked the door and dropped her keys in her pocket. As she went down the stairs to the sidewalk out front, she realized she couldn’t hear her keys jingling in her pocket like normal. Standing just outside, she reached into the pocket where she put her keys and found a twenty-dollar bill. She must have put it in there some time ago and not realized it. She didn’t wear this jacket that often, especially not to work. She considered calling her mother to give it to her but shook her head. No, she would keep it and maybe even stop for a burger and fries at that little shop near the park. Smiling to herself and feeling lucky for a change, she headed off into the park for a day of sunshine and laziness.

  Two hours later, Alyson was sitting and watching some children playing at the small playground in the middle of the park. She had wandered around alone for over an hour and had ended up here. She almost wished she had carried her book with her but knew she wouldn’t have read that much out here. One or two women who had children in the play area kept watching her like she was a stalker or something. She simply smiled, nodded at them, and relaxed. She wasn’t able to do this very often and when she got the chance, she took it. And it felt good.

  * * *

  Sitting in the park, a few benches away, a man sat and watched Alyson. He didn’t know her name, of course, he was just watching a woman sitting alone who had shown up without a child in tow. He saw her smile at the women who were watching her and grinned despite himself. He turned his attention back to a young girl who he had been watching for some time. She was maybe ten with long brown hair pulled up and back in a ponytail and she was laughing as she climbed the ladder of the sliding board yet again. He glanced to one side to find a few women watching him the way they had the woman on the other bench. He shook his head and leaned forward a bit, resting both elbows on his knees. A young boy of maybe the same age as the girl climbed the slide behind the girl almost pushing her off to the side. The man started to stand up then saw the girl shove the boy back and glare at him. Sighing with relief, he relaxed again and glanced toward the woman who sat alone for a minute.

  * * *

  Alyson watched as a young girl and boy had a slight scuffle at the top of the slide. She gasped as she thought the little girl would be shoved over the side, but the girl pushed back and even glared at the boy. Sighing, Alyson wished she had ever had that sort of courage growing up. If that had been her, she would probably have either fallen or simply climbed back down. Then again, she probably would never have gone up to the top in the first place. Things had never been easy for her growing up. Her father – her real father – had taken off when she was a baby. Her mother had tried to raise her alone but within a year had been running with one man or another. It had been the start of what ended up being an awfully bad lifestyle. Her mother couldn’t seem to find a decent man. That or she just didn’t bother to look.

  Alyson remembered one man when she was just fourteen, who had come into her room one night, drunk and smelling of liquor. She had screamed but no one had come to help her. Her mother had probably been passed out drunk again. Luckily for her, he hadn’t gotten far when he simply passed out. She had gotten out of bed and run to find her mother thinking the man had done something to her. But Alyson had found her mother passed out on the living room couch, smelling as bad as the man had. Alyson had snuck back into her room, grabbed jeans and a t-shirt, dressed in the bathroom then left the trailer they lived in and hid out at the neighbors for the rest of the night and half the next day. When she had gone home that evening, the man was gone and her mother had been in a sour mood, claiming the man had vanished in the middle of the night, the bum. Alyson had been afraid he would return but he never did, for which she had been incredibly grateful.

  Another hour went by as Alyson sat on that bench watching happy children playing and enjoying themselves before she finally got up to go home. She glanced toward the bench where the man had been sitting and saw him standing with the little girl in front of him. She was smiling up at him as he took the little girl’s hand and they headed out of the park. Alyson supposed it must a father and daughter and sighed. Her life had been so different from most kids. No father to speak of and only her mother to raise her. And not very well at that. Turning in the other direction, Alyson started down the trail heading for her apartment building, the twenty still in her pocket. She might need it later she reasoned, and so had never stopped for lunch.

  Back at home, Alyson fixed a salad for lunch and settled in front of the TV. She watched a movie or two as well as the next episode of her favorite TV show. People would never believe that she loved zombie shows, and for the most part she didn’t, but this one had a good storyline that she enjoyed. The rest of her day was quiet, and she did the normal things she did to be ready for work the next day.

  Five

  Vanessa walked into the park late on Sunday night, following the general path toward the center slowly. She wore form-fitting stretch pants in a light blue and a dark blue hoodie over it. Her red hair was wavy and blew in the light breeze of the evening. It was close to eleven p.m. as she walked along, glancing from one side to the next. She didn’t hear anyone else in the park, but she was certain there was someone. She had the feeling she was being watched. Smiling to herself, she stopped for a minute, opened the bottle of water she carried and took a sip. As she stood still for that moment, she heard a soft crack as if someone had stepped on a branch behind and to the right of her. She smiled as she recapped the bottle, slipped it into the holder at her waist and patted the waist bag that was strapped to her slight frame. She slid her hands over the soft fabric of the pants she wore before she started off again.

  A few minutes later, a young man stepped out onto the path in front of her and stood watching as she continued walking toward him.

  “That’s dangerous you know” he said softly.

  She smiled. “What is? Walking? Or drin
king water from a bottle.” She laughed softly and made to walk around him. He reached out and grabbed her arm. Not too hard but enough that she knew not to try and pull away. She turned and looked him in the eye.

  “I meant that its dangerous to be alone out here at night.” he responded as he moved closer and sniffed. She was wearing a light perfume. “Someone might try to … take advantage of you.”

  She laughed again keeping her voice light. “Is that so?” she whispered, reaching out and running a finger over his cheek. Now that she was closer, she saw he was light skinned with black hair cropped close to his head. His brown eyes gleamed a bit as he smiled lightly. Other voices could be heard now in the distance, and she licked her lips.

  He watched the movement of her tongue sliding over her lips and glanced to the side. “Let’s go over here.” He motioned with his head to where he had stepped out and she nodded, still smiling.

  Feeling that she was willing to play along, the young man let go of her arm, turned and led the way off the path into the trees and bushes. She followed him easily, glancing down the path once before she did. As she walked up behind him, she ran her left hand up his back to his shoulder, her right-hand easing into the pack at her waist. She lightly touched his check from behind, getting him to tilt his head back a bit. With that, she reached and slit his throat with the thin blade in her right hand. She put her left hand over his mouth as he started to fall and kept it there, following him down. His eyes opened in shock as he reached for his throat, but he was already on the grass at her feet. She stood up and watched for a moment or two before turning back toward the path. Voices passed the spot, so she stood totally still and waited. Once the voices were gone, she moved back to the path and headed back in the direction she had come from. She smiled as she did so. It was a genuinely nice night.