Chained Guilt (Hidden Guilt (Detective Series) Book 1) (3 page)

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“David, honey, are you going to lay there and watch
Sports Center
all morning?”

              “You got something better for me to watch? Are you suggesting that I watch you instead?”

              “I think you can answer that for yourself.” She pointed down at her torso. “This is called my bra and panties outfit. You like it?”

              “You are the most beautiful woman I ever laid eyes on,” I said, meaning every word. “Why did you stop modeling again? The world travel, the big pay checks, the lunch dates with celebs? All that too much for you?”

              “Aww . . . you’re sweet. I’m the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen, huh? How many times have you used that line? I’ve told you before. I always wanted to be a news anchor, even as a little girl. All that other stuff is nice, but maybe I don’t want to rely on these to get what I want.” She gestured toward her breasts.

              “Excuse me, but I kind of like those, personally,” I laughed. “Come over here and let me inspect them again for quality.”

              My wife, Miranda, had the typical model body. She was tall—almost six foot —with long, toned legs and even longer blonde, silky hair. Miranda had graduated college with a BA in broadcasting and a minor in criminology. She was so humble that when she mentioned being a former runway model, most people couldn’t believe it.

              “I do think you are amazingly gorgeous, and you know I’d do anything for you right? I would cut the heart right out of my body and give it to you. I only ask one thing.” I grinned. “Just stay away from those male models today. Can you do that for me?”

              “I know you would, and that’s why I love you,” she said with a smile. “And FYI, all the traveling and stuff doesn’t compare to having a beautiful family. I love my family and being a mom. It’s the most wonderful, beautiful thing in the world.”

              “Sometimes I like to put my hand on your chest while you’re sleeping, just to feel your heart beating. I know you like being a mom, and you’re the best. You certainly get my vote.”

              Our relationship wasn’t perfect, but it was probably as close to fairytale as you could get in this crazy world. I couldn’t even remember the last time we’d had a fight or a disagreement. We’d been together so long, even our thoughts had begun to mesh.

              “Hey, don’t act like you’re just a no-good couch potato, Mr. Big Time College Football Player,” she said as she slowly twirled her hair. Hmmm . . . now I’m certain you used the ‘you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, baby’ line before.”

              “Nope. Never. I didn’t have the perks of being a superstar,” I said with a wink and a smile.

              “Okay, superstar, I have to get ready for work. I’ll need you to remove your hands from my breasts now, officer.”

              “Don’t remind me.” I laughed. “Speaking of which, I can’t believe we’ve been on vacation for a week, and they haven’t called one time. Wilcrest was supposed to keep me up-to-date.”

              Miranda and I had met innocently enough. She was a grad student earning credits for her criminology degree, and I was a rookie cop fresh out of the police academy. Luckily for me, I was assigned a two-week stint with the “hot college chick” who later became my hot wife. When the assignment came from the chief, everyone ran from it. Since I was the new kid on the block, it was handed to me. About ten seconds after Miranda walked in, everyone knew they had made a mistake.

              “Honey, you need to get up,” Miranda said. “The girls will be waiting on you.”

              “I know, I know, but this is the last day of our vacation, and I don’t want it to end.”

              “Vacation? For you, maybe. I have to do this photo shoot. That’s why we’re here, remember?”

              Miranda had been chosen for a magazine spread featuring the most beautiful newscasters in the nation. The photo shoot was in Florida, where we had never been, so we were taking full advantage of it. Just as I was about to respond, the phone rang. I grabbed my phone from the bedside table and glanced at the display.

              “Are you kidding me? Captain Wilcrest?” I looked at my wife. “I think I just jinxed myself.”

              “Be careful what you wish for, lover boy.”

              “What’s up, Cap? Your ears must have been burning. I was just telling Miranda—”

              “Hey, Porter, got some bad news. We got another one, third one in the last two months. People don’t even want to take their kids to school anymore. They don’t want to go outside. We’ve got to catch this bastard, and I mean fast!”

              “That’s what this asshole wants,” I replied, sitting up in bed, my heart pounding. “He wants everyone to fear him. ‘Hey look at me; look what I can do!’ He wants to make the headlines. His fifteen minutes of fame.”

              “He came to the right place to get his fifteen minutes and then some,” Wilcrest said. “Same MO too—severed body parts, possible . . . well, probable rape. I guess this is his version of ‘see no evil.’ This time he plucked the kid’s eyes out.”

              I swore as Miranda looked at me with concern. “Just get as much forensic information as you can. I’ll be back in town late tomorrow afternoon.” I clicked off the phone.

              “You think you guys are going to catch him?” Miranda asked.

              “I don’t know,” I admitted for the first time. “I try to say the right things, put on my mean-cop, tough-guy suit, but the thought of something like this happening to one of our girls scares me to no end.” I shook my head. “I don’t know if we’ll catch this one. So far, we’ve got nothing.”

              “I have faith in you,” Miranda said. “If anyone can catch this maniac, you can. I believe that.”

              “Thanks. I’ll do my best; that much is certain. The girls and I are going to the beach while you do your shoot. We can catch up after that. Sound good?”

              “Sure. Wish me luck.” she said, turning to leave the room. “And I’ll try to stay away from the male models.”

              I dressed and headed to the girls’ room next door. To my surprise, they were both up, in bathing suits, and ready to go.

              “Took you long enough to get up, sleepy head,” Karen said.

              “Hey, why is everyone rushing me this morning?” I griped playfully. “I’m on vacation. It’s our last day, and I’m trying to enjoy it. Besides, you’re five years old. You don’t know what tired is yet.”

              “Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” Hilary broke in. “Let’s just get to the beach, can we? I‘m not five, and I’m not tired either, old man.”

              “Yeah, you’re fifteen. You should be full of youthful energy too!”

              “Really, Dad? Can we just go please?”

              I grabbed a book, my keys, and my cell phone and locked the door. The three of us made our way over to the beach. As we walked, I swear, every male under the age of twenty eyed Hilary. Some even did a double take as we walked by. They apparently didn’t notice the glowers I sent their way. 

              “Did you see that? What’s the matter with these boys?” I said, shaking my head.

              “Dad, I’m a beautiful young woman with curves in all the right places. What do you expect them to do? You were young once. Didn’t you do the same thing?”

              “Give me your towel,” I said, only half joking. “I don’t understand that bathing suit anyway. And I’m still quite young, thank you very much.”

              “You’re not supposed to understand it. It’s called a bikini, and you don’t wear them, thank God. And I hate to break it to you, but yeah, you are old.”

              I found a spot with mostly older people and decided it worked for me. Maybe the old guys wouldn’t stare so hard at my adolescent daughter. Then again, maybe the old farts would prove to be worse. Hilary noticed my choice of beach.

              “Dad, could you have found a place with any more old people?” Hilary whined.

              Before I could answer, Karen darted for the water, bucket in hand.               “Karen and I like it just fine,” I said with a smile.

              “That’s because you’re over the hill and she’s five!” She shook her head, disgusted. “Whatever.”

              I wasn’t listening. I’d already picked up my book and started reading. Hilary probably figured arguing with me was no use. She sat down, turned on her iPod, and cranked up the music.

              We’d been on the beach for a couple hours when Miranda called. She had completed her photo shoot and wanted to meet up so we could spend the rest of the day together.

              “Just leave the hotel room, walk onto the beach, and head to the left. You can’t miss us.” I smiled. “Just look for the group of old people. See you soon.”

              Less than fifteen minutes later, I glanced in the direction of the hotel and saw Miranda headed our way.
What the hell was she wearing?
She looked great, but she was going to give one of the old men a heart attack. She smiled as she sank down next to me in the sand.

              “Hey, is that a new bikini?” I said. “It’s stunning.”

              “Yes, it’s new, silly. You really think I look good in it?”

              “Well, let’s do a test.” Before she could stop me, I turned to a man who sat in a foldout chair nearby. He looked to be at least in his 70s. “Excuse me, sir.” The old man turned to look at me, squinting against the sunlight.  “Do you think my wife looks hot in that bikini?”

              “Uhhh . . .”

              He glanced at me and then my wife, his eyes lingering before he replied. “Sonny, I would have to agree. You should take her home before I steal her away from you!”

              “I’m not letting that happen, trust me.” I grinned. “No one is going to take this beautiful flower away from me. Not today Not tomorrow. Never. She’s mine!”

              Miranda blushed and turned her attention to her oldest daughter. “Hi, Hilary.”

              A mumbled greeting is all she got in return.

              My wife turned to me and cocked an eyebrow. “She’s quiet today, huh?”

              “Not even. She’s mad because we set up shop with the old folks instead of the teenyboppers.”

              “Where’s Karen?”

              “She’s down by the water with a bucket, in her own little world,” I said as I rolled over and planted a kiss on Miranda’s neck.

              “Stop it now! I’m serious,” she laughed. “There are too many people out here for her to be that far away from us.”

              For the first time, I noticed the distance. I turned to my older daughter. “Hilary, walk down and ask your sister to come check in with us, please.”

              “As if I wasn’t doing something,” Hilary grumbled.

              A few weeks earlier, Karen had been approached by a stranger—a woman—at her school. My little girl had been gone for thirty minutes before anyone even noticed she was missing. The teachers thought she was sick in the bathroom. Miranda had been on high alert ever since. She hated to think it might have been the person responsible for the recent murders, but how could she really be sure?  Someone had finally spotted the pair on the playground. The woman ran off when campus security approached. Karen described her as “special,” and that was enough for me. We were looking for a highly intelligent psychopath with years of training in the medical field. It eased our minds, but just a little.

              “She’s fine, Mom,” Hilary reported back several minutes later. “She’s down there playing in the water.” She made a face. “If anyone took her, they’d bring her back fast. Trust me.”

              Miranda finally caught a glimpse of Karen. “Who’s she talking to?”

              “Where? I don’t see anyone.” I stood to get a better view.

              “Right there, David, that blonde woman,” Miranda said, jumping to her feet and breaking into a run. “I told you she was too far away!” she shouted over her shoulder as she raced to the shoreline.

              As Miranda screamed and pointed, I noticed the woman, now about thirty yards away. She seemed to be pulling Karen along by her wrist, though my little girl was trying to dig her heels into the sand.
Who was this woman?
Was she the same one from the school?
I surged forward in an all-out sprint, gun in hand. I couldn’t let her get away. Kidnapping cases don’t often end happily.

              I wove my way through the sunbathers, pushing people out of the way as I ran, fearful my efforts wouldn’t be enough, that my Karen would be gone. I tried to swallow, but my mouth was as dry as the Sahara. I heard Karen yelling for help, but everyone on the beach just sat there, stunned into inaction.

              The woman reached the parking area. I could tell this was too planned to be random. I was dealing with someone who had done this before. It took her a second to shove Karen into the nondescript vehicle. As the car pulled away, I stopped, lifted my gun, and fired several shots at the back tires. The car swerved, and the woman lost control. I held my breath, panicked that another car would take them out, or they’d slam into a tree or something.