End of the Line

by C. M. Sutter

  Frank knelt. “Check these out and look there.” He pointed at what appeared to be a back-and-forth pattern on the ground. “He backed in and had to make a few attempts. You can see that by the roughed-up dirt.”

  “So, from the clues here at the scene, it looks like he rolled Gina up in the rug and tossed her in the trunk. We’ll have Mike pour plaster casts of the tire tracks. Who knows. We might get lucky.” I headed inside. “Come on, let’s go talk to Beth.”

  “What’s the crime lab’s ETA?” Frank asked as we passed the officers.

  “Lutz said a half hour.”

  “Okay, come get us when they arrive, and then I want you guys to start canvassing the neighborhood.”

  I gave Beth’s door a knuckle rap, and she answered within seconds.

  “Please, come in, Detectives.”

  We followed her into what looked like an exact layout of the upstairs unit. The living room was the first room when we entered.

  “Is this okay?” She pointed at the couch.

  “It’s fine.” Frank and I sat on the couch, and she faced us from the chair on the opposite wall. “You said you were pretty sure you got a good look at the guy from the side.”

  “Yes, that’s correct.”

  “Okay, then I’m going to call our sketch artist and have her head this way. She can put together a decent composite in under an hour.”

  Beth sat with her hands folded. “I’m fine with that.”

  I excused myself and made the call to Tory, who said she was on her way. After returning to the couch, I took a seat and opened my notepad. Frank could ask the questions.

  He pulled it together and began. “We need to know everything from the second you heard Gina’s doorbell ring until the man left.”

  “Okay, I’ll do my best. I remember peeking out when the doorbell rang. That’s when I saw him on the porch. He looked away from the camera several times like he was uncomfortable standing in front of it.”

  “Uh-huh. What else?”

  “I heard Gina ask who he was, since he was dressed in casual clothes. He said he was an officer and that you sent him to keep an eye on her.”

  I shook my head at Frank and was sure we were thinking the same thing.

  The killer was here watching us and knows who we are.

  Frank continued. “Did he say his name?”

  Beth rubbed her forehead. “I have to think. I know he did, but what was it? Officer Miller?”

  “No, Miller is here right now.”

  “Um, something like that. Millston, Millstep, Millhouse? It’ll come to me if I stop thinking about it.”

  “Okay, and you said he told Gina that he was supposed to look after her?”

  “Yep, and then I went to the kitchen and packed my lunch. Milstead. That’s it! He said he was Officer Milstead from the Chicago PD.”

  I wrote that down and would check to see if we had anyone named Officer Milstead on the police force.

  Frank waited for me to catch up with my notes. “This part is really important, Beth. Think hard before you answer.”

  “Sure, go ahead.”

  “Even though you’ll be working with a sketch artist, we need to know what the man looked like now. That description will help our detectives search for the right person on the subway cameras.”

  She closed her eyes as if to bring back the man’s image.

  “Take your time,” I said. “It’s important to get it right.”

  “His hair was dark—dark brown, not black—and about as long as yours, Detective McCord. Styled about the same too.”

  “So, a full head of hair, not balding on top?” Frank asked.

  “No bald spots that I saw, and I can’t tell you his eye color of course since he wasn’t facing me.”

  “Sure, go on.”

  “He looked husky. Not fat, just solid.”

  “Muscular?”

  She shook her head. “Certainly not like you, Detective Mills. I really couldn’t tell since he had on a sweatshirt.”

  “What color, and did it have any writing on it?”

  “I didn’t see any writing, and it was light gray.”

  “So it was a hoodie?”

  Beth nodded. “And he wore jeans.”

  “Okay, how tall did he seem?”

  “Under six foot, I’d say, but not short. I do remember he had a large nose.” She smiled. “You know, kind of Italian style.”

  “Got it. And age?”

  She rubbed her chin. “Late thirties to early forties, I’d say.”

  “Good. Anything else at all?”

  Beth frowned. “I don’t think so. I imagine a side view isn’t all that helpful.”

  I held up my hand. “Actually, it’s very helpful, and so far, it’s the only description we have.”

  “I’m so surprised Gina didn’t ask to see his credentials, especially since he wasn’t dressed like a cop.”

  A knock sounded on the door, and Beth excused herself to answer it.

  Frank squeezed his hand into a fist. “Why didn’t Gina know better, and how did he get inside her apartment to begin with?”

  “She let him in because she trusted his story about us telling him to watch over her. Think about it, Frank. We had just left, plus we don’t dress in uniforms, so it probably didn’t occur to her to wonder why he wasn’t. She’s a kid, for God’s sake.”

  “She’s nineteen and should have been more cautious than that, especially since her sister was just murdered.”

  I took in a deep breath as Jackson walked in with Beth.

  “Detectives, Mike and Danny just arrived.”

  “Okay, thanks.” We stood, and I handed my card to Beth. “I’ll let you know when the sketch artist arrives, and we sure appreciate your help.”

  Frank and I followed Jackson upstairs, where Mike and Danny were already unpacking their supplies.

  Chapter 48

  Mike gave us a head tip when we walked in.

  “Jesse, Frank. So what do we know?”

  Frank gave them the rundown. “We have a missing nineteen-year-old girl. Jesse and I were here yesterday, and there was a rug right there.” He pointed at the void on the living room floor.

  “Okay, what else?”

  “Blood on the kitchen countertop and a messed-up bedroom, like a struggle occurred there.”

  I added my two cents. “And fibers from a rope or twine that’s stuck on the bedposts.”

  Danny raised his brows. “So she was tied up?”

  “It appears that way.”

  “Anything else you want us to check out besides the obvious dusting for prints and spraying Luminol?”

  “Yep, follow me.” Frank led the boys down the back stairs to the parking area. “There are fresh tire tracks here, yet neither tenant owns a car. See where the dirt is roughed up? I’m thinking he backed in but made several attempts until the vehicle was right at the door. My theory is he rolled up Gina in that missing rug and tossed her in the trunk.”

  Mike looked puzzled. “And the downstairs neighbor didn’t hear anything?”

  I took my turn. “She works second shift and wasn’t home.”

  He smirked. “Why do crooks always get lucky?”

  Frank swore again. “Yeah, well, that bastard’s luck is about to run out. Anyway, we need you to make plaster casts of the tire prints too.”

  “Not a problem. Anything else?”

  “Is it too much to ask for a viable print?”

  Mike huffed. “I’ll do my best, but like most killers, he was probably gloved or isn’t in the system.”

  We left the boys to it and returned to the apartment, where Jackson and Miller were waiting.

  “We’ll get started on the knock and talks unless there’s something else, Detective McCord.”

  I waved them on. “Nope, go ahead and look for other doorbell cameras along the way. Talk to everyone in a two-block perimeter of this residence.” I watched as Frank paced. “You know you can put that anger to better use.”


  Frank shrugged. “We have to wait for Tory to show up, anyway. After that, we’re out of here. With the description we have from Beth, it shouldn’t be too hard to find that prick leaving the subway stations.”

  “Speaking of, why don’t you give Henry a call and see if he has anything yet.”

  Frank fished deep into his pocket for his phone. “Not the worst idea.”

  As I stared out the window at the distant downtown skyline, I wondered where on earth Gina could be. The possibilities were endless, and finding her would take a miracle—if she was still alive.

  I got Frank’s attention when he hung up the phone. “What’s the word?”

  “He said there were a few possibilities, but from a distance, and because it was night, they weren’t one hundred percent sure it was the same man. I gave him Beth’s description, and they’re going to compare the screen grabs again.”

  I was optimistic. At least it was something. A slow-moving car was headed our way as I returned my focus to the window. “I bet that’s Tory coming up the street. Let’s go see if it’s her, and then we’ll take off.”

  Frank led the way as we walked out to the porch. The car was already parked along the curb and Tory was rounding its front end with her briefcase in hand.

  When she reached us, Frank patted her shoulder. “We really appreciate your quick response.”

  “Not a problem, guys. Show me the way.”

  I knocked on Beth’s door again, and she welcomed us in. After the introductions, I asked Tory to email me the sketch when it was complete, then Frank and I headed to the precinct.

  I called Jackson as Frank drove. “Hey, it’s Jesse. We’re on our way back to the station, but let me know if anything shakes out with the neighbors.” I hung up and closed my eyes. My mind was filled with doubts that the sketch would be enough. A side view wasn’t nearly as good as a facial composite would have been, and even though it was a long shot, it was all we had to work with.

  When I felt my stomach churning, I realized it was three o’clock. “Where the hell did the day go? No wonder I’m hungry. We missed lunch and then some.”

  “Yeah, I guess we did.” Frank turned in at a fast-food restaurant and pulled up to the menu board. “What do you want?”

  “Grab me a number five with an iced tea.” I reached in my pocket and pulled out a twenty then waved it at Frank, but he ignored it.

  “We’ll have two number fives with iced tea on both.” He raised his hip and took out his wallet. “I got it, Jesse. You can pay next time.”

  “Thanks, pal.”

  We ate in silence as Frank continued south. With full stomachs, we could put in a few more hours of work without needing cafeteria breaks. I was excited to talk to Henry and see if they’d made better progress with the description of the perp that Frank gave him.

  Frank stormed into the bullpen at three thirty and approached Henry. He, Tony, and Shawn had been searching the subway footage for the same person exiting either the train or the station after the victims did.

  “Well?” Frank said, a bit too harshly for my liking.

  I knew he was agitated, but the guys were doing their best with what they had to work with. I noticed the sour looks on everyone’s faces. “Mills, take a breath and let them go over what they have or don’t have. Impatience won’t help anything.”

  Frank dropped to his chair and rubbed his head. “Sorry, guys. It’s just that we haven’t had the opportunity to save anyone’s life. That maniac kills them, and then we get the call after the fact. Gina could still be alive, and we have to do everything in our power to find her.”

  I turned to Henry. “What have we got, Johnson?”

  “Likely the same man at Callie and Diana’s locations, but because it was night, we can’t make out his face. The height, weight, and hair length are all on target, just no identifiable facial features.”

  Frank slapped his desk. “What about Brad and Manny?”

  “We have no idea when the killer took the subway, so we haven’t found him on the footage.”

  “Then maybe yesterday. Frank and I arrived at Gina’s apartment around one o’clock. We stayed for about a half hour and left. The neighbor downstairs said the man showed up about ten minutes later.”

  “So check the Blue Line footage that stops at Grand and Halstead starting around noon?” Henry asked.

  “It’s something, and it’s during the daylight hours, plus we know what he was wearing yesterday—a gray hoodie and jeans.”

  “Okay, I’ll have the CTA send over yesterday’s footage from Grand Avenue.”

  That was our best chance of finding the killer—and now kidnapper. Seeing him during the day, and in clothing that Beth had described, would be a slam dunk if he actually took the train and got off at the Grand Avenue stop.

  As we waited, I looked through the folder of notes I had gathered on Leslie’s murder. The conversations we had with the Lone Stallion employees went nowhere, we couldn’t talk to Brad or Manny since they were both dead, and it was doubtful that they had been acquainted with the killer, anyway. I thought about the footage we’d watched from the hair salon of the person who’d followed Callie but knew it wouldn’t show any more now than it did then. There was no reason to drive there and watch it again. The person we saw was nothing more than a figure in the night without a single identifiable feature.

  Damn it. We couldn’t even tell if it was a man or woman.

  “The CTA footage just came in if you want to watch it with me, Jesse,” Henry said.

  Frank leapt from his chair. “I do.”

  “I will too. The more eyes watching it, the better.” I scooted my guest chair over to his desk, and Frank did the same.

  “Ready?” Henry looked from me to Frank before clicking on the link.

  Frank snickered. “I’ve been ready to cuff that killer for damn near a week.”

  Chapter 49

  Richard blew over his cup of coffee while staring at her from his seat on the upholstered glider across the room. She was finally waking up. Last night, he’d forced her to swallow ground-up sleeping pills dissolved in water, the only way he got any rest. Even though she was tied to the wrought iron railing that separated the sunken living room from the kitchen, she still flailed and kicked her feet. The pills were the only way to silence her—short of knocking her out cold.

  “It’s about time you woke up.” Richard shooed away the cat with his foot.

  Gina squinted in the direction the voice came from, then the realization hit her. He could see it on her face and chuckled.

  “Nope, it wasn’t a nightmare. You’re really here with me, and we’re going to have all kinds of fun.” Richard rose from the chair and crossed the room. He knelt a good five feet from her in case she decided to spit in his direction. “Man, that’s quite the knot you’ve got on your forehead. It’s a nice shade of purple, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say your eyes are turning black and blue too.”

  “Why am I here? You fooled me into believing you were a cop just so you could kidnap me. Detectives Mills and McCord never sent you to my apartment.”

  “Damn it, girl, you’re smarter than you look.” He walked to the chair and picked up his coffee cup. “It was either kidnap you or kill you. I’d say yesterday was your lucky day since you’re still alive.”

  “You son of a bitch murdered my sister!”

  He stuck his finger in her face and poked her swollen forehead. “I didn’t kill your sister. Somebody else did, but you should be thanking me.”

  She winced and pulled back then spewed her words at him. “Thank you for what? I’m tied to this railing, and that’s after you cracked my head into the countertop, rolled me up in a rug, and threw me in your trunk. Then you drugged me after we got here. Sorry if thanking you wasn’t the first thing I thought of.”

  He snarled at her. “You should thank me for killing the two men who murdered your sister.”

  “And now you’re going to kill me.”

&nb
sp; “True enough, but I’m going to have a little fun with your detective friend before I do it.” He rubbed his chin as a grin formed on his face. “Consider it a game, like a race against the clock. If Detective Mills wants to find you alive, he has to play by my rules since I’m the one calling the shots, not the Chicago PD.” Richard circled Gina then grabbed her ponytail and wound it around his hand. He pulled her head back against his face and whispered in her ear. “I wouldn’t get too sassy if I were you. Keep in mind, you’re the first person who has lived longer than five minutes after I got my hands on them. I have an itch, you know, and love to watch the life and blood drain out of people’s bodies, particularly women. Remind me to show you my photo collection later. You’re in for a real treat.”

  Chapter 50

  We watched the footage from every camera on the Blue Line that originated at the Loop terminal. Grand Avenue was the first westbound stop, but our hours of staring at the computer screen had resulted in nothing—the man wasn’t there.

  Frank ground his fists into his eyes and sighed with obvious disappointment. “We’re getting nowhere. Of all days to avoid the subways, he chose yesterday?”

  I had to agree as I tipped my wrist and checked the time. Three hours of staring at the computer had gone by, and we hadn’t seen him anywhere.

  “He obviously put a great deal of thought into his plan.” I shook my head. “There’s no way he knew we were going to visit Gina.”

  “Maybe not, but he may have been following you, and the only way to do that was with his car. Seeing you two arrive at Gina’s house gave him a new woman to go after. I’m guessing he improvised by saying he was a cop in order to get his foot in her proverbial and literal door.”

  Frank waved off Henry’s theory. “That’s bullshit. Why change his MO? He kills everyone within seconds of getting them alone. It sounds like he had hours with Gina, and instead of slitting her throat, he kidnapped her. There’s got to be a reason he flipped the script.”

  Henry shrugged. “I’d say he’s trying to draw you in.”

  Franks stood and walked to the window. “Now he wants to kill cops instead of women? I’m not buying it.”