The Last Amen

by C. C. Jameson

  Fuller’s finger flew toward the vic’s body. “I gotta go brief the district commander. The mayor wants to hold a press conference. This is going public tonight and Bostonians are going to freak out. You guys need to solve this ASAP.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “Murphy, fill me in,” Rosebud said after Fuller stormed out.

  “Strangled. Looks like the same killer. We should bag every chemical product in the apartment in case she was drugged like the other. Maybe the killer just makes his potion from household products.”

  “Wouldn’t hurt, I guess, but that’s not going to help us fast. You know how long toxicology reports take. What about the Bible?”

  “What about it?” Murphy asked as they both approached the body.

  Rosebud thanked his lucky stars for the nearly absent stench. At least he wouldn’t throw up so soon after his lack of gut control was last displayed.

  After confirming that the photographer had already taken shots of it, he lifted the book off of her body with his gloved hands.

  “Different Bible, but it’s open to the same section: the book of Colossians,” Rosebud said.

  “So we need to study those passages. Figure out what message the killer is leaving us. Do you think…” Murphy walked away without finishing her sentence.

  “What? Murphy?”

  But she reappeared with her LED light and shone it on the open pages, using a different light spectrum.

  “Nah. Nothing. I guess we could run more tests, but I was hoping he used invisible ink or something.”

  “There was none on the first Bible, either. The outside had been wiped clean and the only prints on the inside were those of the family. You watch too much TV,” Rosebud said.

  “But what else is there?” Murphy asked. “These murders are happening for a reason. The killer’s got a motive. But what is it? Hand me that Bible, will you?”

  Rosebud shrugged and passed it on.

  A small line appeared between Murphy’s brows as she began reading the passages aloud. Less than twenty seconds later, she stopped mid-sentence.

  “Hey! The ribbon!” Murphy flipped to the page marker. “That has to be different.”

  “What do you mean?” Rosebud asked.

  “With Lori Davis, the ribbon wasn’t that far from the open pages. This one seems closer to the beginning of the book. If the killer’s leaving us a message, that’s where it is. Thoughts?” she asked, handing the Bible back to Rosebud.

  The ribbon marked passages from the First Corinthians section. Glancing through the verses, he spotted a few possible themes.

  “So?” Murphy asked.

  He snapped a photo of it. “I’m heading back to the office to compare the two. You may be onto something.”

  “I’ll look around the crime scene some more then take the vic’s father to the station for his statement. Call me if you find something.”

  Using a printed-out copy of the pages where both Bibles had been open, Rosebud re-read the one passage that made the most sense to him. He read it over and over again until Colossians 3:1-7 became ingrained in his head.

  “If then you were raised together with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated on the right hand of God.

  Set your mind on the things that are above, not on the things that are on the earth. For you died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.

  When Christ, our life, is revealed, then you will also be revealed with him in glory.

  Put to death therefore your members which are on the earth: sexual immorality, uncleanness, depraved passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry; for which things’ sake the wrath of God comes on the children of disobedience.

  You also once walked in those, when you lived in them; but now you also put them all away: anger, wrath, malice, slander, and shameful speaking out of your mouth.”

  He highlighted the words “sexual immorality, uncleanness, depraved passion, evil desire, and covetousness.”

  Then he flipped to the ribbon-marked page and highlighted the First Corinthians 6:9 and 10:

  “Or don’t you know that the unrighteous will not inherit God’s Kingdom?

  Don’t be deceived.

  Neither the sexually immoral, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor male prostitutes, nor homosexuals, nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor slanderers, nor extortionists, will inherit God’s Kingdom.”

  Then he looked at the photocopied pages from Lori’s Bible where the ribbon had been placed and began highlighting from Galatians 5:19:

  “Now the works of the flesh are manifest, which are these: fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, idolatry, sorcery, enmities, strife, jealousies, wraths, factions, divisions, parties, envyings, drunkenness, revellings, and such like; of which I forewarn you, even as I did forewarn you, that they who practise such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God.”

  Picking up his phone, he dialed Murphy’s number. She picked up on the third ring.

  “I figured out the Bibles. I think I’ve got the common thread.”

  “What is it?”

  “Have you ever seen the movie Seven with Brad Pitt and Morgan Freeman?”

  “I don’t like where you’re going.”

  “I think that’s what our killer’s doing. Selecting people based on their sins. I’m not exactly sure which ones yet. But I don’t want it to end with someone’s head in a box.”

  “You and I both. What do you have exactly?”

  “I don’t know for sure, but after reading and re-reading the pages marked by the ribbons and the open ones, I think the killer pointed to various lists of sins that prevent people from inheriting the kingdom of God.”

  “What’s the list? Those seven deadly sins from the movie?”

  “Not really. But common themes. Sexual immorality, idolatry, adultery, drunkenness, parties… There’s a bunch. Different times, different views. I’m probably guilty of half of them, in a good week.”

  “We gotta figure this out. I’ll try to dig into the vic’s sexual history. Can you get one of the priests to give you his opinion on the meaning of those passages you found?”

  “Can do.”

  “And could you ask all three of them? Just in case one is our killer. He may have a different reaction to those passages.”

  “Can’t hurt, I guess.”

  “Listen, I know it’s far-fetched. But let’s cover all our bases, okay?”

  “You’re the lead, Murphy. It’s already late. I’ll get on that first thing tomorrow morning.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Leaning against the kitchen counter, Luke watched his mother eat alone at the table. He checked his watch again, then pulled out his phone from his back pocket.

  “You might as well leave it out,” she said, shaking her head at him.

  “I don’t understand what’s taking her so long.”

  “Really?”

  “Well, I know she’s working the biggest case of her career right now, but I also know the policies they have in place. She can’t work twenty-four seven. They get some overtime, but they have to go home and sleep. That’s just life. Their detectives will take turns and work different shifts if needed, but she should be here by now.”

  “Maybe she went to chat with Father Matthews again.”

  “What? Who’s that?”

  “A young priest. Quite dashing, really. I wonder if…”

  Her unfinished sentence dangled over Luke’s heart like an icicle threatening to split it in half. But his head wouldn’t have any of it. He knew Kate too well to worry about that.

  “Mom, that’s just ridiculous.”

  “I don’t know. She’s a beautiful, smart woman. It wouldn’t hurt if you showed her how much you care by proposing to her.”

  “Stop it! I’ve got a romantic dinner all set up for us here, but she’s just not showing up!”

  “It’s not that romantic if your mother is here, is i
t?”

  “What do you want, Mom? You’d rather I kick you out of the house?”

  “I can always go to the theater and watch a movie. I may be older than you, but I can still walk and leave the house for a few hours, you know. I understand your need for privacy.”

  He checked his phone for the umpteenth time. Still no text message from Kate.

  “I appreciate that, Mom, but it sure doesn’t look as though my romantic evening will be happening tonight.”

  “What are you celebrating? Maybe she just forgot.”

  “It’s the three-year anniversary of our reunion.”

  His mom pressed a hand against her chest and smiled at him. “Oh. You’re as romantic as your dad, God bless his heart.” She crossed herself and looked up to the sky.

  “Yeah. I’m not sure my romantic gestures are always appreciated by Kate. I may be hopelessly romantic with a woman who doesn’t seem to see it as a value worth having.”

  “Oh, Luke.” She shook her head at him once more.

  He shrugged but stayed silent.

  “I used to think your job was quite dreary,” she said. “Working in a lab, looking at samples that had nothing but horrible stories attached to them. Then I began thinking about poor little Katie. After what she witnessed decades ago… And now what she sees and deals with day in and day out… Can you really blame her for being a little emotionally detached?”

  Luke poured himself a glass of wine as he let his mother’s words sink in.

  “I guess you’re right. I can’t imagine what her work days are really like.”

  “But keep the romance alive. She probably needs it more than you can imagine. Don’t give up on her. I might even suggest you double down on it. Don’t just be the most romantic of the two. Be romantic for two.” She lifted her hands and pointed to her ring finger, which still displayed her wedding ring, even though his dad, her husband, had passed away years ago.

  “Mom! Enough about the hints. You’re not subtle at all. I get it.”

  Bringing his glass to his lips, he reflected on it, yet again. The thought had crossed his mind more than once already. He’d even started putting money aside. Deep in his heart, he knew Kate was the one. If he was brutally honest with himself, he’d probably known back then, decades ago, when they were just children and she’d befriended him out of nowhere.

  But did he really want to be married to someone who valued work more than family? Someone who prioritized criminals and murderers over those she loved?

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Although Kate had fantasized about hitting the pavement the instant she got home, storm clouds had rolled in and the sky had opened up, making her look for an alternative. Yes, a late evening run would have cleared her mind, but she was exhausted, and the weather was obviously not on her side. Now was not the time to risk catching pneumonia. Not when the clock was ticking and she had a killer to find.

  They’d made progress, though. She had to take the small victories where they came, even if they weren’t the ones she wanted to win. Eliminating suspects did bring them closer to finding the real killer, but not fast enough. More lives were at stake, and she felt hopeless.

  She exhaled, letting go of the anger that was bubbling in her chest as she secured her gun for the night. Her inability to fix the situation, or to put an end to the murderer’s streak made her clench her fists.

  Her run options discarded, she opted for a beer instead. Kate walked through the living room and headed to the kitchen to open the fridge, which lit up the darkened room. With its quiet ticking, the clock caught Kate’s attention and explained why the house was so quiet.

  Everyone had gone to bed, of course.

  Luke…

  She pulled out her phone and reread the string of messages he’d sent her. Messages she’d ignored while trying to find a killer, or a real motive, or a connection between the two victims.

  She’d forgotten about Luke’s romantic evening for the two of them. Tonight was the 24th. She’d forgotten that today marked their reunion. To be fair, as much as she’d enjoyed reconnecting with him, memorizing the date had never occurred to her. But it had occurred to Luke.

  The date had meant that much to him.

  How did she manage to find such a great guy? He was so much better at relationships than she was. Or was she subconsciously trying to ruin the one good relationship she’d ever been in?

  As she took a swig of the cold amber liquid, her thoughts briefly turned to Matt, her ex-husband. She winced as she recalled how bad things had been. Matt and his manipulative lies, his double life, his… She forced him out of her mind. Such negative thoughts headed nowhere good.

  Exhaling loudly, she took a second to be grateful for Luke. Her Luko. Being with him was just… easy. Easy and comfortable. Like an old pair of shoes. While the idea sure didn’t sound romantic, she realized she desperately needed those figurative, worn-out shoes in her life. While work could be relied upon to bring in more than her daily share of chaos and violence, Luke could be counted on for grounding her, for bringing in the stability and comfort she needed to balance things out. He was the yang to her yin. He was her rainbow after the storm.

  She took another swig knowing fair well that joining him in bed right that minute could lead to nothing but a night filled with twisted facts and gory images spinning in her head. She had to get work out of her mind, but she didn’t want to make noise by turning on the TV.

  Taking her beer into Luke’s office, she decided she’d head down memory lane by going through the photo albums she’d brought back from Kenny’s house. Looking at those photos could help make sense of the hypnotherapist session she’d gotten earlier today.

  Now that she was detached from the urgency of the second murder, a swell of emotions came back to her. Even her nose played a trick on her and reminded her of that other cologne she’d smelled just before the therapist had taken her out. It hadn’t been her dad’s cologne, which meant it was more likely the killer’s.

  That and yesterday’s discovery about how terrified her mom had been the morning of… It could only mean one thing. Her mom had known their killer. Or at least had been aware of the threat hanging over her head.

  Perhaps she’d even invited him to dinner?

  She took another swig of her beer then opened the first of the photo albums she found in the top box.

  Hours passed by as she flipped through albums she’d never really seen before. Pictures of her as a baby. Pictures of baby Bobby. Pictures of the both of them with their parents. Back when life had been simpler. Before that fateful day…

  She closed her eyes, pushing tears down her cheeks. Her identity and personality had been carved out of a horrible past. Those photos were just snapshots of her roots. One by one, she felt her tears drip onto her shirt, their cool presence seeping their way to her skin.

  “Katie, baby. You all right?”

  Luko’s warm voice startled her. Wiping her tears, she opened her eyes and looked at the man she loved standing in the doorway.

  She nodded.

  “Come to bed.”

  “I’m sorry for tonight,” Kate said.

  He shook his head, a line splitting his brows. “Don’t worry about it. I know you have lots on your plate right now.”

  Right there and then, she realized she’d never ever have an empty plate. There would always be serious crimes needing to be solved. That was her job, her life. There would never be a better moment to look into her family’s murder cases. Getting the ball rolling now instead of later may make a difference.

  “I’ll do it,” Kate said.

  “You’ll come to bed? I hope so, you look exhausted.”

  “No, yes. I mean, I’ll talk to the sheriff. I need to do it. For them. For me.”

  Luke’s lips curled into a faint smile and he walked to her and wrapped his arms around Kate.

  “I’m proud of you.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Los Angeles, California

&
nbsp; Monday, June 25th, 2018

  Pixie Browne was reminiscing about her past and eating a bowl of clam chowder at her favorite Northeastern-themed hole-in-the-wall restaurant when her attention wandered to the news on the screen in front of her. Perhaps it had to do with the ambiance of the joint, but the owners always keep the TV tuned to the Northeastern news channels.

  At first, the weather forecast showed nothing surprising. While sunshine and warm temperatures were the norm for L.A., the weather forecast for the Northeast had nothing going for it. The remnants of a tropical storm were hitting the coast and carrying loads of rain.

  Suckers!

  Pixie smiled, pleased with herself for having left that part of her life behind. She’d left her family, her name, her friends. She’d given up everything so she could start anew, away from him. The weather was just one tiny improvement, but oh, did sunshine make her new life more enjoyable!

  Her mood changed when the screen flashed with a breaking news announcement.

  The TV was muted but a caption scrolled across the bottom of the screen while random footage of a police cordon surrounding an apartment building repeated in a loop. Then the portraits of two young women appeared for a few seconds.

  What the caption said next almost made her spit out her spoonful in surprise:

  “Bostonians the target of a serial killer. Two confirmed murders in a few weeks. Both victims were blonde women in their early twenties. The mayor is urging the citizens to be overly cautious, even with people they know, and to report any suspicious behavior to the police.”