The Jumper

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The Jumper Page 5

by Brian H Groover

to.”

  His friend wandered off, leaving Jeff with his thoughts.

  Jeff didn’t know what was holding him back with Alicia. He liked her, and it had been a very pleasant evening, but Alicia was more ready to go deeper than he was. He wasn’t ready to give up on this case yet, and somehow, getting more involved with Alicia–or anyone–would feel like giving it up.

  Besides, as much as he liked her, Alicia was not completely his type.

  “You don’t even know what your type is, you idiot,” he told himself in the mirror. Still, he didn’t call Alicia again.

  He kept up the pressure in the hunt for Gilbert Stevens, but other cases and duties required his attention.

  6 Rachel

  Two months later, Gilbert Stevens turned up. They needed to look at DNA before they could be sure. When his name came up, the coroner saw the alert, and called Jeff.

  Stevens’ naked body had been found in a hunting cabin near Muir Woods, tied to a bed. He had apparently died of dehydration. DNA at the scene, and indentations on the bed, told investigators that a woman had been present. Fingerprints in the bathroom matched one Rachel Cortez, a prostitute in San Francisco.

  Furious he had missed out on Stevens, Jeff’s manner changed, when he read the coroner’s report. Stevens had died of dehydration, but he had apparently lain under a heavy weight for several days before he died. When asked about the indentations on the bed, the coroner replied that yes, if a woman who had been coupling with him had died, she would have accounted for the weight on him, and that would have fit with the marks. The bruising on his body was consistent with someone lying on top of him, without moving, for several days before his death.

  “But Jeff, what happened to the woman?”

  “I don’t know, doc, but thanks,” Jeff said, as he went out.

  “I almost have it,” he said to himself. An alert went out for the prostitute.

  “This has to be the one,” he said to himself. At first, he was sure this was another link in the money chain. Someone had killed Stevens to cover up the link between him and whoever arranged for the killing of Mr. Crane.

  And yet, his gut was telling him he was still missing the biggest piece. Something about that scene niggled at his mind. Why would the woman die with him, and why wasn’t her body still there? If someone killed both of them, why remove her body and not his? The coroner had indicated she had lain there for several days. If she were alive . . .

  His eyes opened wide, and he pulled out a sheet of paper. After scribbling some notes, he called the coroner back.

  “Well, no,” he said, “There is only evidence that she was lying on him for a few days–like four or so at the most.”

  Damn, thought Jeff, disappointed. “Okay, doc, thanks.”

  “A coma would do it, though. She probably wasn’t dead, at least, not while she was on top of him; I can be pretty sure of that. Still, I can’t see any reason why a woman would go into a coma during sex. Anything that would be that serious would likely kill her immediately.”

  Exasperated, Jeff said, “Then where’s the body?”

  He got back a chuckle. “You find it, Jeff, and I’ll tell you how she died. The rest of it’s your problem, but good luck with it.” He paused, and said, “You know, Jeff, that figure of three or four days?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t know if it has any relevance, but bruising only happens when a person is alive.”

  “I don’t–”

  “She could have lain there much longer, if she was still there when he expired.”

  That was it! Somehow. “So, she could have been there as much as a week?”

  “I don’t see why not. There’s no evidence either way, though.”

  Jeff thanked him and hung up.

  He looked at his notes. Someone had come up with a new way of killing people, but who? And why would it put the killer in a coma?

  He pulled up everything the department had on the prostitute. If she were still alive, the answer would lie with her. Rachel Cortez had been arrested just once for solicitation, a year before. Vice knew who she was, but they mostly let her alone. She was one of the loners, not attached to a pimp. From the notes, she was not on drugs.

  The only picture he had of her was a mug shot. It wasn’t complimentary, but she still came across as a looker. Well, she would have to, in order to make it in that profession, he thought. Still, her eyes seemed to look through the camera at him, in a way that made his heart skip a beat. Jeff shook his head, to clear it. She looked like someone he’d like to date. What a waste, but I’ll bet she’s a pricey one.

  There were notes in her file about where she worked, but they did not have any luck in turning her up, and no one in that area had seen her recently.

  Patiently, he continued to hunt for her. He left her picture on his desktop, and ignored the ribbing.

  They still had not found her, when Jeff received a phone call, a couple of week later. A silky contralto said, “Hello, detective. My name is Rachel Cortez. I understand you’re looking for me.” The voice was thrilling to hear.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, sitting up straight. “I sure am.” Why are you calling me?

  “You are barking up the wrong tree, but I think I should tell you everything, just to get you off my back.”

  “I’d like that, ma’am.” What game are you playing? He looked down at her picture, and the voice seemed to go perfectly with the picture.

  “No need to be formal. Call me Rachel. I haven’t committed any crimes, other than my former profession, but I do want to be left alone, and I need your help.”

  “Former profession?” And why do you need my help?

  “Yes. I gave up prostitution some time ago. I promise to answer all your questions, if you will come alone. I really do need your help, rather badly. Can I trust you to come alone?”

  Go alone? To see a murder suspect? All kinds of alarms were ringing in his head. It was definitely against procedure, and he knew the captain would raise hell, but Jeff took a deep breath. He had to get to the bottom of this. “Yes.”

  “Okay, then.” She gave him directions, to a spot of open road in the Golden Gate National Recreation Area. “I’ll pick you up there, and take you to where I’m sure we can’t be overheard.”

  “Can I trust you?” It seemed a very strange question for a cop to be asking a suspect, and he knew he should not, under any circumstances, trust this woman. Yet the call of such a beautiful woman who needed his help was hard to resist, and she had been on his mind a lot, lately.

  “Yes. I am not armed, no one else is with me, and there won’t be anyone waiting for us. No traps or tricks, and you can bring your sidearm. I won’t disarm you, if you give me your word of honor you will wait until you have heard it all. I promise you won’t be harmed.”

  Jeff had to consider this, very carefully. If she were really going to kill him, she would say anything at all, just to get him alone, where her associates could finish him off.

  The sensible thing to do would be to set a trap for her. As soon as she picked him up, she would be surrounded. Then he could take her downtown where he would have control.

  He grimaced, remembering Stevens. He did not have any more evidence to hold her than he had to hold Stevens. Sure, she had been present in the cabin where Stevens had died, but there had been no evidence of foul play. Stevens had not struggled against his bonds before he died, he had no drugs in his system, and she had sure as hell given him a good send-off.

  She was probably the killer, Jeff thought, but that niggling suspicion was tugging at him again. There was something familiar about the two deaths, but he didn’t have time to puzzle it out. He had to decide, right now.

  He looked down at her open file on his desk. She really was a loner. No associates, no pimp, no organization. If she had anyone else, she had hidden it well. Besides, if he could not handle someone like her, armed as he was, he should turn in his badge.

  He thought of the idea that was s
tarting to percolate in his mind. No, it was just too bizarre.

  “Agreed,” he told Rachel, and she gave him the time to meet.

  7 Big Mistake

  As he hung up, Jeff was not sure whether he was feeling fear or excitement. Some of both, he decided. The next question was whether the excitement was about closing the case, or about meeting this beautiful woman. “Some of both,” he said aloud with a chuckle, as he got up, and armed himself.

  On his way out, Jeff told his captain where he was going, and why. The captain was not happy about it, not at all. He would not have allowed it, but he saw that his friend was going, no matter what he said. He talked Jeff into letting him at least drive him to the rendezvous, just to make sure it wasn’t an ambush.

  When Jeff agreed to this, the captain pushed him on his theory. Jeff had been hinting that he had an idea about the case that was too crazy to believe, but he wouldn’t tell anyone.

  “Just tell me what you think you are going to find out,” the captain said. “I thought you were crazy before, for thinking something was fishy. Now that your suspicions have been partly confirmed, I think you’re crazy to take this chance.”

  “It’s still just a hunch,” Jeff said with a shrug. “I should be able to find out for sure if I’m right or not. It’s so screwy, though, that I don’t want to say any more, until I really am sure.”

  “Just be careful,” the captain said. “If she is the perp, she stands to gain a lot if you disappear.”

  The captain dropped him off at the location in his private car. It was

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