by brett hicks
Sting palmed his hand to his chest.
“Julia, you wound me, of course, this information is safe here. Do we look like savages to you?!”
I snorted and shook my head slowly. Sting was a funny kid when he wasn’t stealing or enforcing for some of the Irish crime families. If not for his side job, I think I could have taken him in, as I took in Avery.
“Well, I have to get back to work now, lads. Sting, I will be seeing you, safe travels.”
He raised his ale bottle and I clanked mine to it, then we downed the rest of our bottles in one long gulp.
“Safe roads to you too, Julia.”
I heard Sting say, as I walked back towards the road.
Thirteen:
It was afternoon the next day, and I was in my bed catching a few hours rest while I could. I was woken by a slender female hand prodding me. I turned to see Avery at the bed and she was pointing towards the living room.
“Phone.”
She said meekly, and I felt my sleep race from my mind quickly at the sound of her small voice. She was such a closed-off little girl that a single word was like a great feat for her. I looked at her, and I nodded groggily. I climbed out of the bed and I ruffled her hair on my way out the door.
“Thanks, kiddo.”
She bit her lip and looked away shyly like she was afraid to get too attached to the attention I gave her. She still seemed to expect me to evict her any time now. I think even now, I knew in some part of my mind that I was never going to let this little girl go unless she had a parent who loved her, waiting for her return.
I walked into the living room, which was sparkling clean for a change. I was not a messy person, not exactly, just busy. Avery was off in the kitchen, and the smell of something egg and cheese, with I think, peppers, tickled my nose. The little lady was cooking us breakfast. Snatching up the receiver, I spoke to the operator.
“This is Detective Julia Mullers, put them through.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She said, and I heard the loud clicking, and then the sound of the police station roared to life.
“Mullers, god above, what took you so damn long?!”
The Captain’s thundering tone dislodged all trace of sleepiness from my mind.
“Sir, sorry, was catching a few winks of sleep while I waited for the doctor to finish her study of the body.”
“Well, while you’ve been snoozing the day away, there has been another murder reported! Same exact MO as the last one. Get your scrawny blonde hide down to the skyline!”
I blinked rapidly.
“Sir, another one in the skyline? That’s not a pattern I am particularly fond of!”
`He growled out, “Well, join the damn club, I’m the god damn president of it, along with the Governor, who is now breathing down our collective necks for closure in this case! Do you know what the fastest way to get the worst kind of attention in this city is?”
(Well, I could think of several things readily, but I knew what stream the Captain was leading me to.)
“Murders in the skyline, and a killer at large.”
He grunted in affirmation.
“I see it was not a complete waste of time to pin that buggerall badge to your chest!”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just said, “Sir, I’ll be down there immediately.”
“Yes, yes, I have your partner in route too, so hopefully between the two of you, you can actually catch a killer today!”
I was about a second away from snarling something very undignified at my boss, when I thought better of my odds of continued employment once the words lift my lips. The Captain had been looking for any damn excuse to fire me since I came onto his homicide squad. To say he was not a fan of me, would be gravely understating our strained relationship.
He growled something in the background, and the phone slammed down. The call was disconnected in that instant, and I was left standing there hearing the dead clicks of the line. Avery waved to me, and she pointed to the table with the steaming food on it. I sat the large black receiver device back on its cradle and I walked over to her with a bright smile on my face.
“Wow, is it my birthday already?”
Avery shrugged and looked suddenly thoughtful. I snorted and shook my head.
“My birthday is in May, so it’s months away, sugar.”
I said, my accent slipped with the nostalgia. Avery took note of the change in accent again, but she was as quiet as was typical of her. She was not stupid, so she probably knew well by now, that I was using a faux-accent in my daily life. I highly doubted Avery would risk mentioning such a fact to anyone, even someone she might think I trusted.
“Sorry that I will have to leave you alone again sugar, but there has been another murder. I am needed at the scene, I will eat with you and take a quick wash in the tub.”
Avery nodded, and she spoke in a hushed tone.
“Water’s hot today, electric’s back on for now.”
I let out a long and exaggerated moan of satisfaction at this.
“Thank the Great Spirit for small favors! At least today you can use my radio device and listen to some music, or one of the radio shows. It’s in the living room, I keep it in a closed chestnut case when the power is out. It took me three months to save back the coin to pay for the damn thing, but it’s worth it when I am home and looking to unwind.”
Avery nodded, and she gave me a small smile.
“Thanks… Julia.”
She mumbled out and my heart constricted at her sincere appreciation of our situation together. I beamed a bright smile at the shy little brunette girl and I took a bite of the egg omelet with cheese and green peppers.
“Wow, this is amazing, kid! You have a real gift in the kitchen. I nearly burn all my meals!”
Avery snickered lowly and then bit into her own omelet. I enjoyed a few minutes of quiet with her, and her delicious concoction. My mind raced off to the list of things I needed to get done today, and the impending murder to solve. I felt like I had a sword hanging over my head, slowly descending an inch at a time.
After my late breakfast, I took a quick but very pleasurable steaming bath. This girl never knew when her electric would go on the fritz again, so each hot bath was a gift to me! I quickly armed up as I dressed. Avery was watching from the door as I strapped on dirks and throwing daggers. I had no fewer than six leather slots on my outfit to sheath blades. My .357 was strapped to my waist and my ammo pouch on the other side.
“Hey Avery, you can learn how to use a blade too, if you want. It might help you feel safer to have one on you. You never know when some thug or some perverted man will strike.”
Avery nipped at her lip, and she said nothing, but she slowly bobbed her head in agreement. Her hazel eyes were haunted by the demons of her recent past, and it hurt me to see her like this. I barely knew this girl, yet it was like a mirror back to myself at nearly the same exact age, the same age as the night my world ended. The night that girl died, and from the ashes, Julia Mullers was born. I would be damned if anything would happen to Avery, she was going to have a future, I would see to it personally!
“If you get bored, you can hang out down five blocks at the alley between the two Mongolian restaurants, tell the kids in the alley that you are my roommate. If they give you any shit, hit the biggest one on the nose, and stare the others down, that will keep them off your back.
Avery nodded, and she seemed to be thinking deeply about this option. Why did I tell her about the orphans? That was simple, she was one, and if she needed a safe place, then I knew Sting would protect her. Sting and I are friends, so much as a crook and a cop can be friends. He was also the orphan care-taker of this sector of the city. There were several boys like him in other sectors, but none so infamous as Sting. His goons would likely let Avery have the run of their little fiefdom since she knows me. They are all generally grateful that I don’t bust them for the small-time crimes I have happened upon in the past.
&nbs
p; “I’ll be late again, I wish you had something you could do. Do you go to school?”
Avery’s eyes widened at that question and she looked confused like she was unsure of how to answer. I gave her a supportive smile and I crossed the living room and squeezed her shoulder affectionately.
“It’s okay, don’t worry about it, kid. I’m not trying to get rid of you, just trying to make sure you have something to do when you don’t have any chores. Being bored is the worst level of hell for me personally.”
She nodded, and she kept nipping at her lip. Her general lack of desire to be outside was disconcerting, but hardly unexpected, considering how I found her. Hell, I am still not sure how I so easily coaxed her to trust me a few nights ago! She was clearly suffering some serious mental damage from whatever she was exposed to recently.
“Just do what you want, and Maria is down the hall if you need her. You can leave a message for me with the department’s homicide squad if you need me. If you leave me a message, I will come running, okay?”
She nodded, and she looked like she had been relieved of a five-hundred-pound burden. She really was expecting me to kick her out. I fished out a few silver coins and I placed them gently into her palm.
“Maria can help you shop, and make sure you get some clothes to wear. This should cover food and a few decent sets of clothing.”
Her eyes widened, and I plucked at the collar of her over-sized borrowed dress.
“You can’t wear these old rags forever sweetie, so find some stuff in your size. Let me know if you need anything else, okay? I know we will have to go shopping for undergarments together, hell, I think I am over-due for some new ones as well.”
I saw her eyes water up and she looked at me as if she was mystified at my kindness towards her. I smiled, and I ruffled her hair, that distracted her from her thoughts.
“You stay safe, and try to have some fun if at all possible, okay?”
She nodded, and she murmured, “Goodbye, Julie.”
My heart clenched that her nickname, a common one for my assumed name, but it was a monumental feat for Avery. I think that is the first time I have ever heard her use my name at all. I gave her a crisp salute, just like I was taught since I was only three years older than her.
“See you later, kiddo!”
I wanted to stay with her and take her shopping myself, but murder waited for no woman. I had a duty to the dead, and to this city to uphold. While I hated the British, and all the shit they heaped on us Colonials, I love my city, and I love her people.
I strode to my steam bike with a skip in my step, happy that Avery was slowly coming out of her shell for me. I was happy that I had someone to go home to. She was a twelve-year-old, and I am barely old enough to have possibly conceived such a child, but she still felt like she was quickly becoming mine!
This was just another mystery of the world, and of female instincts.
Fourteen:
Roaring down to the ritzy skyline district of the inner-city at speeds barely safe, I made the scene in under twenty minutes. I had another pair of uniforms with silver badges waiting outside at the department steam cabs, again. Again, I asked the young men to watch my bike as well.
Charming, me? Okay, maybe a little, since I did have to learn how to bat my lashes and get my way while living on the streets as a teen. A fate I would die before I watched Avery repeat!
This section of the skyline was at the far edge, nearer to the east sector of the city, and to many of the large businesses. I was directed to the sky-lift, well-guarded public access to the skyline near the business sector. Many up-and-coming business types rented small, but tasteful apartments in this sector. I was now walking into such a skyline studio-type apartment.
Several uniform officers with silver badges were using white powder to dust for fingermarks on all the surfaces outside, and as they spotted the leather-clad black badge toting Nordic- looking tall female that I was, they parted for me to enter the scene of the crime.
The smell of death was much more pronounced here, even without seeing the victim, I knew this body was much too ripe to have been here any less than two days. The bitter and sour odors attributed to death assaulted my senses, and I shut my eyes for a moment and fortified myself to the pungency I knew to expect with this scene.
Bobby was waiting for me, and the photographer had just begun to set up his massive wooden tripod stand for his camera equipment. If he was photographing the victim now, then he had already been through each room of the small apartment. The captain, Dan Maverick, was standing over the body, while Jasmine was studying the right arm of the bloody form on the floor.
She had to have been in her late twenties, or maybe early thirties since she had just a trace of silver touching a few of her long dark-brown locks. Her build was small, slim and extremely well-toned from a glance. She had thick muscular legs for her small frame, and her biceps were noticeable for her otherwise extremely feminine curves and contours. Her hazel eyes looked up lifelessly at the ceiling of her apartment. Her neck was torn to shreds, but the ligature marks were all the same size. Her room was disheveled, she had put up a hell of a fight in her final moments of life. (Several of her fingernails had been torn off in the struggle)Her nails were torn off several fingers from her struggle, and the deep lines in her neck were sloppier, likely from her struggle with her killer as they attacked her, assumingly from behind.
What took my breath was not the stench or the savageness of this murder, but the likeness this woman held to a certain twelve-year-old girl I had become very fond of recently. There was little doubt, this woman was the right age, and the exact striking resemblance was astonishing.
Without so much as a word, I strode out of the room, and I walked into the smaller bedroom, this apartment was, in fact, a small two-bedroom unit, not a studio as most of the others in this building. In the second room, I saw all the trappings of an athletically inclined little girl. White and black spotted footballs, and girls’ sports equipment. Above the bed, letters were painted in every color of the rainbow, “Avery.”
It could have been happenstance, but what were the odds that a newly-orphaned girl fitting the exact size of the clothes discarded on this floor, and the one I was taking care of, were not the same person? Her name was uncommon, most people chose Christian names from the Bible these days, not something as abstract as Avery. My heart hurt, and my mind spun as the timeline began to slide into place. This killer might have other victims, but as of now, Avery’s mother was the first murder victim, not the second, chronologically speaking.
Avery must have come in and witnessed her mother’s murder, or she found her after the killer had already fled. She would have held her mother, hence the blood on her clothes, and now I knew why she didn’t want to go outside. Avery was terrified of either ending up like her mother, or she thought the killer was looking for her.
My pulse pounded in my ear as that thought crushed my mind. She was terrified of someone, she was not just traumatized, she was hiding!
Is he looking for her? Could she identify this murderer? Was I even willing to try to speak to her about this?!
My mind was a veritable killing-field of morbid thoughts and deeply sympathetic agony for the child in my care. My gut was sizzling now, I was not seeing the entire picture here, and I felt like something was out of place. Avery was Colonial, I knew this much. She was obviously not poor before her mother’s death, and she had learned a lot of girlish things, like cooking and cleaning. She was scrawny, but most twelve-year-olds are, so it would be hard to say how athletic they are unless they are obviously over-weight. She fit into this room, into this little girl’s life neatly.
“How the hell does this mother connect to the other victim?!”
I snarled in annoyance, and I belatedly noticed Bobby had stepped in behind me with a curious look on his face. He must have thought the scene had made me sick.
“Sorry, just doesn’t make sense. The first victim hardly made much sense
either, but what the hell does a British home lander, and a Colonial woman with a twelve-year-old, have in common? The second victim’s children were far too young to have met Avery, so why in the name of the Great Spirit did this killer target both women?! Is it just any woman in this age range, in the skyline? That doesn’t make any sense, this killer clearly studied and stalked his prey, or he wouldn’t have known how and when to attack them! He selected them, I am sure of this!”
Bobby frowned at me and said, “How in the name of god do you know she had a twelve-year-old? I just learned that, when the records came back on our victim. You’ve barely been inside the door, Julia.”
I looked at Bobby, and I shut the door so that no one could overhear me.
“What I am about to tell you must, stay with you. Tell no one, not even your beautiful bride!”
Bobby nodded, and he leaned in conspiratorially.
“You have my oath Julia, not a word, but please don’t keep me waiting like this!”
I expelled a long breath, and I closed my eyes. I began to recount my meeting with Avery, how I found her, and what she was wearing at the time. I told him about the way she was acting like she had seen something terrible—which fit with this scene.
I told him how I was taking care of her, and that I had Sting inquiring about her past. When I was done, Bobby’s jaw looked like it was loose, and it was threatening to fall to the floor.
“Hells, and bells Julia! How the fuck do you get into shit like this?! You have a potential witness at your house!”
I covered his mouth with my hand and looked up at him with all the vehemence that my blue eyes could manage—which I am sure is a lot.
“Keep your damn voice down! Or, did you forget the ogre in the next room, the one who would snatch that kid from my care and not think twice?! What if Avery is in trouble, beyond the fact that her mother is dead? What if the reason she has been hiding and is so terrified, is because she saw the killer? Think for a moment Bobby, she would have a damn target painted in red on her head! I will not let that happen to this precious little girl!”
