Chained Guilt (Hidden Guilt (Detective Series) Book 1) (4 page)

              When the car finally slowed to a stop, I was about twenty yards away. The woman scrambled from the vehicle and made a mad dash into the crowd of spectators gathering nearby.

I ran to the passenger-side door, grabbed my little girl, and pulled her from the car. She had a cut on the side of her forehead and seemed a bit dazed.  I caught a glimpse of the woman as she ran into the crowd. At that moment, Miranda caught up and snatched Karen from my arms, holding her close.

              “Karen, baby, are you okay?” she asked frantically. Her hand smoothed Karen’s hair as she quickly cast a glance over her, searching for additional injuries. “Did you know that woman?”

              I could see Miranda was terrified. Hilary, too. Tears flooded Miranda’s face, and panic made her tone shaky. Karen was calm, all things considered. Adrenaline and anger filled my veins, and the fear of almost losing Karen coursed through my body. I felt light-headed.

              I didn’t have time to exchange pleasantries. My blood boiling in rage, I ran into the crowd in pursuit of the woman. Beside a dumpster in the parking area, I found the jacket the woman had been wearing. A short distance away, I found a blonde wig.
Damn it!
This pretty much ended my search, since I now had no idea who to look for.

I stood on the curb separating the parking area from the narrow street that followed the coastline. I looked around, gun still drawn, chest heaving with exertion.

              “Freeze. Drop your weapon!”

              I felt the barrel of a gun press against the back of my head.

              “Get on your knees, and give me one good reason why I shouldn’t splatter your pathetic brains all over this concrete.”

              So this was it? Shot dead on a Florida beach in front of a few dozen onlookers?

I did as I was told. There was no way this guy knew I was a cop.

              “I’m Detective David Porter, HPD. My ID is in my back pocket, but I’ll have to reach into it to get it.”

              “Okay, but slowly, no funny business, unless you don’t mind being shot in the back.”

              I pulled my ID wallet from my pocket and flipped it open so he could see my shield. “See that? Says detective, doesn’t it? No need for any shooting today,” I said, perturbed.

              “Do you know who that woman was?” the officer asked, lowering his weapon.

              I picked up my gun and slid it into my waistband. “No. Were you able to get a good look at her?”

              “Not really. Not enough to make an ID.”

              “Well, we’ll need you to come down to the station and make an official statement.”

              “I know, but first I need to find my wife and daughters. Then we’ll head down and take care of that.”

              The officer holstered his weapon. The crowd remained; the lookie-loos had to get their fill. He handed me a card and told me to phone him when we were headed toward the station. As I made my way through the crowd to find my family, a sense of apprehension took hold of me. I’d dodged a bullet this time. Would I be so lucky if this woman tried to abduct Karen again?

              When my family came into view, Karen ran for me, jumping into my arms and holding on tight. Miranda and Hilary stood motionless, their faces creased with worry and fear. I said nothing as I grabbed Miranda’s hand and led my frightened family back to the hotel. After a few calls back home, I headed to the station to make my statement. I had to believe this was the same person who had approached Karen at school, but I couldn’t be sure. The woman at the school had had half an hour to make off with Karen, if that had been her intention.

              I explained it all to the local police and headed back to the hotel. I was sure Karen would be too shaken to answer the millions of questions I wanted to ask her. I opened the door, and stepped into Miranda’s embrace. 

              “Hey there. How’s Karen?”

              “She’s sleeping now, but she’ll be okay. Hilary is pretty upset, though.” She paused. “You were amazing today. Now I know why you’re so highly sought after. It’s almost like you were a different person. In an instant you went from husband to super-cop.”

              “It’s my job.” I sighed. “Add to it the fact that it involved my baby girl, and I guess you got the perfect storm. Most of the time when you’re out there, you don’t have time to think. You just react. Thinking gets you killed.”

              “Well, I think I’m done with Florida,” she said. “I’m ready to go home, David. I’m glad we have you on our side. I feel so safe when I’m with you.”

I couldn’t help but wonder if I was actually keeping them safe or if I was the one putting them in danger to begin with.

              “Home sounds good.”

2

I drove around listening to adult contemporary on my radio, thinking about nothing at all. I did that often when I focused on following leads. I kind of zoned out and allowed my thoughts to wander. It was my alone time, my quiet time.

              I came to a stop sign and looked at the kids playing outside. This was a busy, family-friendly street. Kids and adults engaged in various activities, including flag football and basketball. Others were busy planting flowers or doing other yard work. The radio call ruined the ambience.

              “We need all officers to respond to Sam Houston Bridge, possible 187.”

              Just then, my cell phone rang, and I pulled it from my shirt pocket.

              “Porter. What’s up, Cap?”

              “David, please tell me you’re almost here.”

              “Yeah, Cap. Just heard. I’m on my way.”

              “Good. We’re gonna need your eyes on this. It’s pretty bad.”

              “Aren’t they all? I’ll be there in five.”

              When I got to the scene, it was already teeming with cops, paramedics, and the medical examiner. A crowd of spectators had gathered. I’m sure everyone was wondering the same thing I was: were we ever going to catch this guy? I directed one of the cops on the scene to control the crowd and get everyone but medical and law enforcement back. I really needed everyone out of the way—cops and EMTs included; they were doing more harm than good and risked trampling evidence.

              I was a stickler when it came to the possible contamination of a crime scene—my crime scene. I was the best crime scene investigator in the state—in the nation, if you asked me. I took pride in being the best. If you aimed for second place, you shouldn’t be playing the game. At least that’s what I told myself. It was also what had attracted the “best” of the worst to challenge me. My motto was simple: you might not make mistakes, but everyone leaves a trail. The captain saw me approach and waved me over.

              “Hey, David,” Captain Wilcrest said. “It’s a damn kid, David, another one. Looks like she’s been beaten, maybe even raped. The bastard severed her hands and her ears. A ‘hear no evil’ this time, I guess. Get in there and see what you can find.”

              Wilcrest cleared the stragglers back, and I began looking for clues. Wilcrest followed me, taking notes. He and I had worked well together over the years. We’d had our run-ins from time to time, but we respected each other’s work. He knew he could always count on me. I’d heard Wilcrest wasn’t too fond of black officers, but never once in all our years of working together had I ever suspected or felt anything like that from him. At this point, I believed the rumors that preceded him were unfounded nonsense. I loved Wilcrest as much as my own father.

              Sadly, it was growing easier to work these horrific murder scenes, almost like the victims weren’t people anymore. To me they had become cases, numbers, and evidence. A sad state of affairs, true, but I couldn’t allow my emotions to get involved at a crime scene. Wilcrest had been right—this one was pretty bad.

              I looked up into the crowd. Maybe my killer was somewhere close admiring his work. That’d happened once on another case a few years back. Turned out to be our big break in the case, too. I shook my head.

              “With so many footprints, it’s hard to tell what’s going on here. But from what I can tell, you got one perp. Indention depth of the shoes says possible female, but whatever was done to this girl was done somewhere else. The scene is too controlled for it to have happened here. She was placed here to be found. The cuts on her are surgical. So, again, it‘s probably someone with medical training. This is our killer, for sure. Make sure we interview all the people who live in those houses,” I said, jerking my head toward a section of houses across the street.

              “David, we’re already on that. I almost forgot; there was another note,” Wilcrest commented.

              “Who moved it? Where is it now?”

              The captain sent one of the officers to retrieve the note, which had already been bagged and tagged.  I took the plastic evidence bag from him and held it up. The note read:

             
Hello, David. We meet again, and all of this is to show you what I am capable of. This blood is on your hands. It could have been your girl. Maybe next time it will be. Good luck solving this case, superstar. You always have to be the best, don’t you? Until you beat me, kids will keep dying.

              This wasn’t the first perp trying to prove he was better than me, and after I caught this one, it wouldn’t be the last. I didn’t even allow it to affect me on a personal level anymore. In some sick way, I almost took it as a compliment.

              Could this be the same person who had been seen talking to Karen at her school a few months earlier? The redhead? Or the blonde? The same person who’d almost made away with her in Florida? I had to believe the woman in both locations had been the same person. Her special-needs act in the playground had been just that—an act.

              “All right, Cap,” I said with a sigh. “I’m not sure if there’s much else for me to get out of this. Make sure I get the reports from the rape kit and forensics.”

              I left the scene without waiting for a response and drove to the diner. It was my place to unwind and ponder. As I entered, Judy called to me.

              “Hey, David. Two sugars, two creams, honey?”

              I nodded. I slid into a booth, weary, as the crime scene played over and over in my mind. What kind of creep could do that to a child? What had happened to the perp to make him so insensitive, turn him into such a cruel human being?  I had a gut feeling I had a woman serial on my hands, but I’d keep my options open.

              One thing being a cop had taught me over the years was that perps justified a lot. They really made themselves believe whatever crooked, diabolical scheme they’d hatched was somehow okay and the victims deserved what happened to them. Whatever pain or cruelty had been dealt out to the perps in their past gave them a golden ticket to hurt others.

              “I heard there was a pretty ugly scene down at the bridge,” Judy said, placing the steaming cup of coffee on the table. “Something about another dead kid?”

              “Yeah, something like that,” I said without looking up. “Pretty bad. Nothing I wanted to see tonight—or any night, mind you.”

              “They cut this one up too?”

              “Yeah,” I said. My tone made it clear I was done with the questions.

              “Well, I hope y’all catch the bastard.”

              “Makes two of us.”

              I sat for another half hour, staring at the walls before deciding to head home. As I left the coffee shop, my eyes caught an elderly couple, probably in their early seventies. How did they make it so long, living what appeared to be a normal, healthy life? If they could do it, why couldn’t everyone else?

              I took the scenic route back to my house, which consisted of driving through a few more neighborhoods. As I crossed the bridge near the crime scene, an uneasy feeling crept into my stomach. I pulled my car over and puked it up over the railing.

              When I made it home, I laid my keys on the table and tiptoed upstairs. All was fine, both girls sleeping. I headed toward my bedroom, slowly undressed, and eased into bed next to a sleeping Miranda. I turned on the TV and pushed the mute button. Miranda would have to be up soon anyway, but I didn’t want to wake her.

              “Hey there,” Miranda whispered. “You been to sleep yet?”

              “No,” I whispered back. “Rough night. Tell you about it later.”

              “David, honey, you should try to get some sleep.”.

              I nodded in the shadowy darkness. I had recently been promoted from Detective Sergeant to Detective Lieutenant and felt an obligation to put in more time as an example to the younger cops. Plus, it was what I loved doing. It was a special distinction. That was still sort of funny to me, especially since my stint in the PD had started out as a job I’d taken to help pay the bills after leaving the army. I’d always had an interest in forensics even going to school for it. I still wasn’t sold on policing. Had I hit the ground running, I could have made captain by now. I’d done my time before being accepted for Homicide, but I kept telling myself each year was my last. Now here I was, fifteen years deep.