Parker & Knight

by Remington Kane

  “Which car is yours?” She said, and then squealed with delight when she spotted the Mustang.

  Once in the car, Cindy asked him where he lived and when he told her, she said that it was too far to drive and that they couldn’t go to her place, because her other roommate had it for the night.

  Parker was about to suggest a motel when Cindy removed her top.

  “Do you have a condom?” Cindy asked.

  “No,”

  “That’s all right, I always carry some.”

  She brought one out from her purse and handed it to Parker.

  “Here?” Parker said.

  “Why not?” She replied, and he felt her hands working at his belt.

  Part of his mind, the cop part was screaming at him to stop things before they went too far. It even warned of danger, and told him that the girl was just a distraction and that once his pants were undone and he was exposed and helpless, that the car door would be wrenched open and a gun would be aimed his way, and his wallet taken.

  He knew such things happened, had investigated them and thought their male victims a special sort of fool, but if it was the girl’s true intent to rob him than he would be robbed, because as her hands took hold of him he knew he was too far gone.

  However, Cindy had no partner, had no other desire than the one that slackened her beautiful face, and caused her to sit astride Parker. She was so petite that she fit between Parker and the steering wheel easily, and as she began moving herself slowly up and down, Parker nuzzled her warm, soft, perfumed neck and forgot the pain of his wife’s betrayal, forgot the eyes of the dead, and the ache of loneliness, and just gave himself over to pleasure.

  When the inevitable end came, Cindy shuddered against him and settled limply into his arms, but mere moments later, she eased off of him and reached for her top.

  “Jesus, but that was good, Rick,”

  Parker chuckled. “It had been a while for me.”

  Cindy kissed him and opened her door.

  “I have to get back inside, I’m crashing at my friend Chloe’s and I don’t want her to leave without me, see ya around.”

  And with those words, she was gone.

  Parker cleared a spot on the foggy glass of his windshield and watched her weave between the cars as she headed back inside the bar. He felt like he should call to her, but what was there to say?

  They weren’t going to have a relationship. Their relationship, what it was and all it ever would be had just taken place, and the only thing she had ever wanted from him was kindness and casual sex, and her desire matched his own.

  Parker straightened himself up, started the car, and headed home, feeling a little older and a little sadder than when he left it.

  Chapter 9

  Parker entered the squad room on Friday morning and saw Jo walking towards him holding a coffee.

  “Cream and sugar, right?”

  “Yes, and thanks,”

  Parker took a sip and felt the warm liquid energize him. He hadn’t fallen asleep until nearly two, and then hit the snooze alarm until there was just enough time to shower and shave.

  “Steve Grace’s girlfriend is coming in this morning,” Jo said. “Although, I’m not sure if she has anything to add to the case,”

  “I know, she told me on the phone that she’d never even met Tiffany, but I wanted to see her in person, to see if she has scratches on her arms or face.”

  “The coroner’s report says that there was no flesh under her fingernails, but she might have punched her attacker, so yeah, we might as well get a look at her and check for a black eye.”

  They got their look about an hour later and there wasn’t a mark on her. A uniformed officer escorted Steve Grace’s girlfriend, Susan May, to their desks.

  May was in her early-forties and was a saleswoman for an office supply manufacturer.

  She was dressed in a conservative pantsuit that was too tight, and her brown eyes were large behind her thick glasses. She had nothing of value to add to the case, but assured them that Steve Grace was with her and her eleven-year-old daughter at the time of the murder. Parker and Jo took down her statement, thanked her for her time, and walked her to the elevator.

  When the doors slid closed, Jo let out a soft whistle.

  “That Steve Grace must have mother issues; his girlfriend’s even older than Mandy Kent.”

  Parker said nothing, but just stood there unmoving, as his mind began to race.

  “Rick?”

  Parker didn’t answer, but just kept staring out at nothing.

  Jo touched his arm.

  “Hey Rick, you all right?”

  Parker nodded, as a sick feeling came upon him.

  “Jo, I think we’ve had this case all wrong.”

  “What do you mean? Are you talking about Susan May?”

  He nodded again, and then mashed the button on the elevator.

  “Yeah, I think she’s the key to this whole case, and if I’m right, it’s more twisted than we thought.”

  The elevator came, and they went after Susan May as Parker told Jo his theory.

  Five hours later.

  The Kents and their daughter Allie were inside Chief Howard’s office with Parker and Jo. There was also a psychiatrist present, a woman named Dr. Price and Parker hoped that her presence would turn the tide and bring the awful truth to light.

  Parker began with a sad sigh,

  “We know who really killed Tiffany Grace.”

  Alex Kent released his own sigh.

  “Thank God, who was it?”

  “It was Allie, Mr. Kent; your daughter killed Tiffany Grace,”

  The Kents both exclaimed loud protests at the accusation, but twelve-year-old Allie hung her head and began weeping.

  Dr. Price moved beside the girl just as her mother took her hand.

  “Allie,” Dr. Price said. “Honey, we know it must have been an accident, a mistake and... we know about you and Steve.”

  “Steve? Steve Grace? What about him?” Mandy Kent said.

  “I’m sorry Mrs. Kent,” Dr. Price said, “But Steve Grace has been molesting your daughter.”

  “What?” Mandy shouted, as her husband looked stricken with shock.

  Allie said something then, but it was whispered and lost amid her sniffles.

  “What did you say, baby?” Mandy asked.

  “I said Stevie isn’t molesting me, he loves me, and I love him too.”

  Mandy let out a wail as her husband began crying his own tears.

  Parker walked over and looked the wounded child in the eyes.

  “Honey, please tell us what happened with Tiffany.”

  Allie shrugged.

  “She was gonna tell. She was gonna make it so we couldn’t see each other again.”

  Alex Kent pointed a finger at his daughter.

  “Don’t say another word! They’ll put you in jail, baby.”

  Allie shrugged again,

  “They know, Daddy, they already know,”

  Parker lowered himself onto his haunches and spoke softly to the child.

  “Why did you stab Tiffany, to stop her from telling?”

  Allie shook her head, her eyes wide and pleading.

  “I didn’t mean it. I swear. I was at Becca’s house and realized that I’d left my phone on the table by the front door, so I cut through the back yards to go get it while Becca went to the bathroom again. Becca was going a lot because something she ate at lunch bothered her stomach.”

  Parker nodded. When he realized what must have happened, they checked more deeply into the girl’s alibi and discovered that her friend Becca lived just on the other side of the block, barely a minute’s walk away if you went through the yards and squeezed through the hedges, and Becca confirmed that she and Allie had been apart several times.

  “Tiffany was just getting out of her car, and when she saw me, she followed me inside the house. Then, she started asking me about Stevie, about me and Stevie, and when I admitted it, she look
ed so sad, so sad, and then she picked me up and hugged me. I was already holding the letter opener, because I was playing with it as we talked, but I forgot I had it, and when she said that she would tell Mom about Stevie... I started hitting her.”

  “But you were holding the letter opener, and instead of hitting her, you stab her,”

  “Yeah, and then she dropped me and, and she had this really weird look on her face, but then she fell down, and the blood came, but not much, not really, but she wouldn’t wake up, she wouldn’t wake up.”

  Dr. Price caught Parker’s eye and he took her meaning and backed away.

  Other than the sound of the Kent family’s crying, the room was silent.

  Chief Howard broke the silence and asked Dr. Price to escort Allie to the hospital, where she would be examined. When Kent tried to join his wife and daughter, Mandy gave him such a withering look that he fell back into his seat.

  “I’ll come by later,” he mumbled.

  Parker sat on a corner of the desk and spoke to him.

  “Mr. Kent, your charges are being dropped, and as for your daughter, well, there will be time to decide that after she’s been evaluated by Dr. Price.”

  Kent wiped away his tears.

  “What about Steve Grace? I swear to you, if I see him I’ll kill him.”

  “Mr. Grace has been arrested and charged with several counts.”

  “For what he did to my daughter?”

  “Yes, and there are other girls, his girlfriend’s daughter for one, and a former neighbor back in Ohio. It seems Mr. Grace made a habit of ingratiating himself with middle-aged women as a means of getting near their daughters. Once I’d met his girlfriend, a woman in her forties, I began to suspect that he might be using her to get near her daughter, and when confronted by her mother, the girl told of her molestation.”

  “Middle-aged women, women like Mandy, and I was so busy trying to screw his sister that I wasn’t looking out for my Allie. Oh God, this is all our fault, oh my poor baby.”

  “We now believe that Tiffany either knew or suspected what her brother was, and that by babysitting Allie, she was actually hoping to protect her. It’s my guess that when Steve Grace went to your home the other night, he wasn’t there to see your wife, but your daughter.”

  A uniformed cop was passing by and the chief waved him into the office.

  “Simmons, please escort Mr. Kent to his car, or do you need a taxi Mr. Kent?”

  “No, I... I have my car. Mandy and I came separately...apart.”

  Kent rose to join the officer, but turned and stared back at Parker.

  “Is my baby going to jail?”

  “I’m not the D.A., Mr. Kent, but I doubt it. I think she needs help more than punishment.”

  “Don’t we all,” Kent said, and then shuffled away.

  Chapter 10

  That night, Parker answered his front door and found Rachel standing there, and she was looking as desirable as ever.

  “Hi Rick,”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I was actually here last night, but you weren’t home, I thought maybe you were with that new partner of yours.”

  “It’s not like that; she’s my partner, period.”

  Rachel smiled.

  “Good, may I come in?”

  Parker let her into the entryway and shut the door.

  Rachel was on him in an instant as she pressed herself against him and kissed his lips.

  “My lawyer says that you never signed the divorce papers. I know what that means, it means you want me back, it means you’ll take me back and everything will be just like it was.”

  Parker felt the anger rising. Did she really think he was fool enough to take her back again?

  “We’re over, Rachel, over!”

  She kissed him once more and he felt a thaw beginning, a thaw that would culminate in a white heat of passion if he didn’t break their embrace, and she felt so good back in his arms, so damn good.

  He reached back to grab something from the table by the door and his fingers touched a letter opener much like the one that had slain Tiffany Grace. He shoved Rachel away with one hand, even as he thrust out at her with the other, his actions fueled by rage.

  Rachel’s eyes widened in shock, and pain spread across her face.

  “It’s signed?” She whispered.

  Parker thrust the paper at her again; it was their divorce decree. He had signed it the night before, upon returning home from his tryst with the passionate Cindy.

  “Take it! We’re over, Rachel! Finished! I hope you have a very good life but I can’t be a part of it, not ever again.”

  Rachel wiped at tears.

  “I understand, and... I really do love you, you know?”

  “Goodbye Rachel,”

  She walked out, and he watched her drive away until he could no longer see her car, then, he went inside, leaned back against the door, and cried.

  Part II

  Homicide

  Chapter 11

  Davey Simms grinned as he watched Carla Vasquez crook her finger at him and run off into the woods.

  They were at Taggart Lake with a group from their high school, enjoying the last few days of summer before they all drifted apart. Some of the kids were off to college out of state, some to state university, but everyone knew that things were about to change forever.

  Davey was going to work full-time in his father’s paint store. College wasn’t for him and besides, Carla worked at her mother’s café next to the paint store, and she too would be staying in town and working full-time.

  Davey had been in love with the beautiful Carla since their first meeting during freshman year of high school. Carla, on the other hand, barely paid Davey any attention and preferred the hunky, manly type.

  Davey was more nerd than man, but love can change you sometimes and Davey reinvented himself this past year, determined to win Carla Vasquez’s heart.

  A strict high-protein, low carb diet mixed with a weight training regimen packed pounds of muscle on Davey and by the end of the school year, Davey could call himself a genuine hunk, and when contact lenses replaced the dorky glasses that he wore, he was a handsome hunk, but he wasn’t through yet.

  It took every penny he could save from working in the paint store, plus the money earned from cutting lawns, along with the ultimate sacrifice, the selling off of his precious comic book and coin collections, but by the middle of August he had enough money to buy a red Harley Davidson.

  Fate was in his corner as well, because Carla had recently broken up with that “jerk”, Ty Collins, the kid that used to dunk Davey’s head in the toilet at school.

  Carla was available, Davey had turned himself into a hunk and he had a motorcycle that would make him seem even cooler. Carla wouldn’t know what hit her.

  When he arrived at the lake, every head turned his way and he saw that Carla couldn’t keep her eyes off him. He was wearing a tight pair of black jeans along with boots and a red, muscle T, the shirt showed off his guns, while the boots added much needed height.

  It took every bit of restraint not to walk over to her, but Davey played it cool, his self-discipline was rewarded when it was Carla who approached him. After that, they were inseparable, and he gave her a ride around to the other side of the lake while she rode on the back of the bike and held on. Davey enjoyed the feel of her pressed against him, and looked forward to greater intimacy.

  Once they were alone, Carla got off the bike, gave him a sexy smile, and crooked her finger at him in a, “follow me” gesture.

  When she ran off into the woods giggling, Davey flipped down the kickstand on the bike and ran after her, his mind racing with thoughts of conquest.

  At last, Carla wanted him, and he was about to make out with his dream girl.

  He lost sight of her, but knew that there was a meadow nearby and hoped that she would be waiting for him, lying down amid wildflowers with welcoming arms.

  When he spotted the shape
lying amid the tall grass, he smiled, and then he crept nearer. When he was fifty feet away, he went into a sprint and threw himself into the air to land beside the form he had thought was Carla.

  It was not Carla.

  The odor struck him first, the stench of death, and then his eyes took in the bloated, distorted, purple face of the corpse. He began to hyperventilate, and as he stood, his foot slipped in a pool of body fluids and he toppled onto the corpse, the result being that his lips brushed against the dead flesh of the thing’s gashed and blood-blackened throat.

  He didn’t even stop to tell Carla what had happened, but rather, he ran by her in a mindless panic, his arms flailing wildly in the air, and, given the horror of his discovery, she could have forgiven Davey for that, what she couldn’t forgive, or ever forget, was the sound he made as he ran.

  It was a high-pitched wail such as a little girl might make, and it was the wussyist sound that Carla had ever heard. Needless to say, she never went out with Davey again.

  You can’t hide what’s inside.

  Detective Rick Parker stared down at the bloated corpse while fighting his gag reflex. Whenever the breeze subsided, the odor emanating from the body was brutal and it was a smell that he knew he would never get used to, no matter how many homicides he worked.

  His partner, Detective Joanna Knight, gave him a nudge and when he looked at her, he saw that she was holding a tube of scented petroleum jelly. Judging by the shiny spot beneath her nostrils, she had already used it herself.

  “Thanks, and I’ll bet you that we just found our missing person.”

  “I think you’re right, I also think that wound in his neck looks like it was made by a knife, although, given the amount of decomp, I guess we’ll have to wait for the autopsy to know for sure.”

  Parker applied the mentholated gel on his upper lip while thinking about their missing persons case.