A Deadly Sin: An epic dark thriller that will have you wanting to leave the lights on.

by Tracie Podger

  “I sent tissue samples to an old friend for clarification on something I discovered. He confirmed my findings, your mother was murdered.”

  I stared at her, not sure at first what to say. “Murdered? How can you tell after all this time?”

  “Your mother had been embalmed, that can prevent decay for decades, Mich. The room she was found in was pretty chilled, didn’t you notice? I tested the metabolites in her teeth, that gave me a picture that she was in good health overall, and I found strychnine in her hair.”

  “In her hair?”

  “In the keratin. I found a serious toxin that I believe was the cause of death.”

  “Why have you not said anything before now?”

  “Because I wanted all the information in hand first. Your mother’s first autopsy report said cause of death was the result of an overdose of barbiturates. Unless strychnine is suspected, it wouldn’t have been looked for. She suffered cardiac arrest, organ failure, all the usual things we’d see in a regular overdose, as well as strychnine poisoning. The coroner reported empty packets of pills, I think an assumption was made, the wrong assumption,” she said.

  “So what prompted you to look for strychnine?” I asked.

  “A small amount was found at Thomas’ house,” Corey answered.

  “I thought it had been banned years ago.”

  “It was, 1990 I think, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a shitload of it around still. I guess if someone had a stock of it, for pest control, they didn’t dispose of it just because the government banned it. And, think about it. Thomas Sr. owned a saw mill, I imagine that was running alive with vermin,” Corey said.

  I slumped back in my chair. As far as the investigation was concerned, I was done. I knew I’d be removed immediately because, if Eddie was right, I couldn’t be impartial. Despite knowing Thomas was responsible for the deaths of the kids, a lawyer would immediately jump on the fact that I was the son of a murdered woman. A woman found in Thomas’ house, whether he’d murdered her or not. They’d play on that; use that as part of his defense. If there was the slightest opportunity to scream ‘planted evidence,’ a ‘revenge arrest’, it would be hurled my way.

  “Why do you need a second opinion, Eddie?” I asked.

  “Because I know the implications, how that will affect this case, and you. I wanted to be doubly sure,” she said.

  I sat in silence for a while, staring at the whiteboard. I’d failed all those kids. That fact weighed heavily on my shoulders. I wasn’t sure what I could have done differently; I just knew I should have.

  I should have caught him; he should have been locked up before now. That wouldn’t have stopped the death of my mother. It wouldn’t have saved Casey, Dale even, but had I done enough? It was a question I was sure I’d ask myself a lot.

  “What now?” I asked. Corey sighed before he spoke.

  “Go home, Mich. Sleep, let’s catch up tomorrow. We’ll have searched the mill by then. I promise you that I’ll keep you in the loop, but you know you can’t take an active role anymore.”

  “What happens when he calls me?”

  “Then you get your ass back here as soon as possible. He won’t talk to anyone other than you, I don’t believe.”

  I stood and nodded. Without a word, I walked from the station, ignoring the call from the chief. I’d let Corey bring him up to speed.

  I pushed through the small group of reporters that seemed to have been permanently camped outside. I kept my head low as I walked to my car. Thomas would call, whether on my cell or through the station. It gave me the smallest comfort that I’d still be needed.

  I pulled into the driveway and then just sat and looked. My mother had loved that house and I’d neglected it. She’d taken such pride in her little home. Each year she’d repaint the exterior, I’d help of course. She would tend to the garden every Sunday, mowing the lawn, weeding, and fixing the fence if needed. My father would want to help but she’d wave him off. I remembered many a conversation between them. He worked, often leaving us for a week or two while he traveled. Sometimes, we traveled with him. Sometimes, Mom stayed home taking care of me, the house, and making sure he had a home to come back to.

  I climbed from the car and pulled up the garage door. I pushed the old mower to the lawn and cut the grass. The sun was low on the horizon by the time I’d finished raking and bagging up the clippings. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d mowed the lawn.

  I heard the roar of a bike before I saw it. I’d packed the lawnmower away as Eddie pulled into the driveway. She swung her leg over the bike, removed her helmet, and then pulled the strap of a backpack from her shoulder.

  “Takeout?” she said, raising the backpack for me to see.

  “Sure, why not?”

  She followed me into the house and to the kitchen. I grabbed a couple of plates from a cupboard overhead, while she pulled out containers from her backpack. We sat at the table with a couple of beers and Chinese.

  “How are you doing?” she asked.

  “Okay, I guess. For someone who’s just discovered his mother was murdered. Who’s off a case. Who’s got the blood of six people on his hands.”

  She laid down her fork. “Oh, Mich, you can’t think…”

  “I can, and I do. This started with me. And it will end with me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m going to end this. Thomas wants me, Eddie. Why the fuck he had to kill those kids to do it, I don’t know yet, but I will.”

  She sighed. I laid my fork beside my plate; I had no desire to eat.

  “And when this is all done, I’m quitting, moving on.”

  I wasn’t sure when the decision to quit had come to me. I was only thirty-six, I had many years of police work ahead of me, but the appetite for it had gone. The rational part of my brain fought with the irrational. Those murders had come at such a pace, we didn’t stand a chance and that, I believed, was Thomas’ intention. He’d wanted us in a spin, but no matter what, my confidence in my ability was in tatters.

  “What do you mean? You can’t quit, Mich. You’re a great cop.”

  “What holds me here, Eddie? Honestly, what do I have to stay for?”

  “Us?”

  “There is no us, you don’t want that.”

  She didn’t answer me. She didn’t say the words I’d have liked for her to say. Thanks to Thomas, the house I lived in now felt poisoned. Once word got out about my past, my career was probably over, and I was holding on to a relationship that didn’t exist.

  “Do you want me to leave?” she asked, quietly.

  “No, I want you to tell me what holds you back.”

  She paused before she spoke. “I can’t, Mich. We all have secrets, skeletons, we can’t share.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “At what point would you have told me what happened in Canada?” she said, turning the question back on me.

  I sighed. “There was nothing to tell, in my mind. The case fell apart.”

  “You lied, and you got away with it. Big difference.”

  “I did what I did for the right reasons.”

  “Maybe my reluctance to commit to you is for the right reasons also,” she said, her voice just above a whisper.

  We did what we always did, went around in circles. I stood and picked up the plates, dumping the forgotten Chinese in the trash.

  “Will you fuck me?” Eddie had spoken so quietly, I’d only just heard her.

  I stood with my back to her, resting my hands on the countertop.

  “That’s your answer to everything, isn’t it? Won’t talk but you want to fuck. It’s as if that distraction, as if offering your body to me, is enough. Do you fuck to forget, Eddie?”

  Her sharp intake of breath stopped me from saying anymore.

  I knew I was being unfair, whatever it was that held her back had to be tough to deal with. I didn’t believe she was satisfied with what we had, not for one minute. I just couldn’t help myself wanti
ng to dig deeper, to find the real Eddie, the one I saw just the shortest glimpse of every now and again.

  The scrape of her chair had me turn around. I watched as she picked up her backpack from the floor and slung it over one shoulder. She gave me a sad smile as she made to pass by. I followed her. Before she got to the front door, I grabbed the strap of her pack. I pulled her back toward me and wrapped my arms around her chest. I heard, and felt, the sigh that left her body. She leaned back into me.

  I kissed the side of her neck, trailing my tongue across her soft skin and inhaled her scent. She turned in my arms, letting the backpack fall to the floor. She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me. I parted my lips to allow her in as her hands gripped the hair at the back of my head.

  I walked her backward, slamming her against the wall hard enough to feel the breath leave her lungs. She breathed in deep through her nose. I pushed my body up against hers and ground my cock into her. She moaned. I pulled my head back slightly.

  “So you want me to help you forget?” I said.

  She nodded slowly. “How?” I asked.

  “Hard,” she whispered.

  One thing I had discovered was that Eddie couldn’t come unless our fucking was hard, fast, frantic, and rough. Skin would be clawed at or broken by teeth. Sweat would drip from both of us. There would be no sensitivity, no emotion attached at all. She sunk her teeth into the side of my neck, sucking on the skin. I gripped her hair and pulled, hard. I felt my skin break as I yanked her head away.

  I turned her away from me, pulling at her hips until she bent over. She placed her palms on the wall and I reached around to unfasten her jeans. I lowered to a crouch, pulling them, and her panties down. She stepped out of them and using my foot, I scooted them away.

  I kicked at her ankles until she parted her legs then ran my hand down her ass. I reached under, teasing her clitoris and soaking my fingertips. She let out a small moan. I pushed two fingers inside her roughly, stroking her until she moaned again.

  “Harder, Mich,” she whispered.

  I lowered the zipper of my jeans and pulled out my cock. I wrapped my hand around it, stroking myself as my fingers pumped in and out of her. If she wanted hard, she was about to get it. I pulled my fingers from her and ran them up her ass. She tensed as I pushed one in. I paused at my first knuckle to let her relax a little before adding a second finger. I stretched her and listened as she took a sharp breath in. When I saw the slight nod of her head, I pushed them all the way in.

  While my fingers fucked her ass, my other hand worked my cock, sliding up and down, my thumb brushing over the tip. Her moans grew louder. I watched her fingers curl as if trying to dig into the wall. She pushed her ass back toward me, wanting more. I removed my fingers and replaced them with my cock. She screamed out in pleasure. Fucking her ass was one of her favorite things. I wrapped my hand in her hair, forcing her head up, arching her back. I held one hip and gave her what she always demanded—hard and fast.

  Sweat ran down my forehead and stung my eyes. I gritted my teeth. White noise filled my head as my orgasm built. I felt my balls draw up, my stomach muscles tighten, as I shot my cum into her ass. It took nearly a minute for my breathing to regulate and I pulled out of her. I watched as my cum dripped from her. I ran my fingers through it, smearing it over her ass.

  Before she could speak, I picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. I kicked the door open and lay her on the bed. I slid my jeans off and climbed on beside her. I reached over to the bedside cabinet and grabbed a condom. I wasn’t done with her yet, and she wasn’t done with me. Before I’d finished rolling the condom down my cock, she straddled me. I felt the stickiness of my cum on her skin each time she lowered herself. She clawed at my stomach as her orgasm built. I watched her chest rise and fall, quicker as she struggled to get her breath. She threw her head back, and for a moment, I thought she was about to cry out my name.

  Before she could come, I rolled her off me and onto her back. I wouldn’t let her take her orgasm from me; I needed to give it. I placed my hands under her knees, lifting them to her chest and then knelt. I slammed into her, jolting her body up the bed. I fucked her harder than I ever had. Her orgasm ripped through her, tears rolled down the sides of her face, and she screamed.

  I dozed, letting the sweat and cum dry on my body. I know I removed the condom and deposited it on the floor beside the bed, but other than that, I hadn’t moved after rolling away from Eddie. I could hear her breathing beside me. We hadn’t spoken; we hadn’t cuddled, or even touched. We just lay side by side, as normal. I felt the bed dip as she sat; she placed a hand on my chest.

  “I’m just getting a drink, do you need anything?” she asked. I shook my head.

  She padded, naked, to the bedroom door. I watched her pull it partway closed behind her. I closed my eyes, my body finally caving in to the sleep I so desperately needed.

  A cold breeze blew over my body; the shiver woke me. I felt disorientated when I opened my eyes. The room was dark but a sliver of light shone through the crack of the bedroom door. I sat up. I was alone. As I swung my legs over the side of the bed, I felt material. Eddie’s tank top lay on the floor beside the bed. I switched on the bedside lamp and stood. My head felt fuzzy, having woken suddenly from a deep sleep. I walked from the room calling Eddie as I did. Silence bounced back at me.

  Eddie’s jeans and panties were still on the floor in the hallway; when I saw them, my heart began to race. A feeling of dread washed over me when I walked into the kitchen and saw the back door open. My foot stepped in something wet but it was too dark to determine what. I reached to the light switch on the wall and flicked it on. I stared at a small puddle of red surrounding my foot. I ran out into the yard.

  “Eddie!” I shouted.

  I slipped as my wet foot connected with the tiles on the kitchen floor when I returned. I grabbed my phone and called Dean.

  “Eddie’s gone,” I said, as he answered.

  “What do you mean, gone?”

  “She was here, now she’s gone. There’s blood, I think, on the floor.”

  “Did she get a call out, leave to go home?”

  “No, her clothes are still here.”

  “Fuck! I’m on my way.”

  I then called Corey and told him the same thing. I scrolled through my phone to find the number Thomas had called me from. It had come up as unknown and I cursed as I realized I couldn’t call it back. If he had her…I couldn’t think that way, but there was no other explanation. She’d hardly leave without her clothes. I ran to the bedroom and dragged on my jeans and then made my way to the front door. Eddie’s bike was still in the driveway.

  Dean pulled up at the roadside as I was shouting Eddie’s name. I’d already run one way up the street.

  “Back inside,” Dean said, grabbing my arm and walking me to the front door.

  “She might be hurt, out here,” I said.

  “And so might be whoever has her.”

  “You think…”

  “I don’t know yet, but come on, inside, Mich.”

  I let him lead me through the front door. I noticed the one red footprint across the floor tiles. I gathered up Eddie’s clothes, not wanting Dean to see her panties.

  “Sit,” he said, as we got to the kitchen. He carried on walking out into the yard.

  I placed Eddie’s clothes on the seat beside me.

  “Right, tell me everything,” Dean said.

  “We…she needed a drink, she got out of bed, I remember that. I fell asleep, it was the cold that woke me and now she’s gone.”

  “When did she get out of bed?” he asked, licking the end of his pencil as he spoke.

  “I don’t know the time. What time is it now?”

  He consulted his watch. “One, in the morning.”

  “Shit. She could have been gone for hours.”

  “Mich, think. I need some kind of timeframe here.”

  I took a deep breath. “I got back here, from the station, an
d mowed the lawn. That must have taken a couple of hours, I guess. Eddie arrived with takeout, we ate, then…”

  “No time for embarrassment, Mich,” Dean said.

  “I’m not embarrassed, okay? We fucked, a couple of times, once in the hall, then in the bedroom. That had to be at least five hours ago. It wasn’t dark when she arrived.”

  Bile rose to my throat. I felt beads of sweat form on my brow and fear ripped through me, causing my stomach to knot and my fists to clench. I heard a car pull up outside, Dean went to the front door and let Corey in.

  “Shit,” he said, sidestepping the blood on the floor.

  “That’s mine,” I called out.

  “Yours?”

  “Not mine, I stood in it,” I said.

  Dean was on the phone, I heard him calling the station and the forensic team.

  “What happened?” Corey asked.

  I repeated what I’d told Dean. I struggled that time, my heart was racing, and I found it hard to breath and talk at the same time.

  “He’s got her, I just fucking know it,” I said.

  No one disputed that. I rose from the seat and walked to the en-suite. I washed the blood from my foot, praying that was his and not Eddie’s. She was strong; she would fight. She wasn’t someone who could just be taken, I hoped. I grabbed some clothes from the closet and dressed. I was tying my shoelaces when Dean came into the room.

  “Forensics are here,” he said.

  “Good. Now, I don’t care what anyone says, I’m involved in this case. Let’s go, they’ll want me out of the house anyway.”

  Dean nodded as I walked past. Corey was outside talking to a couple of officers, he’d already organized searches, but I knew they’d be fruitless. After every murder, we’d done the same thing with no results. I was trying not to be despondent, but I needed to think outside the box. I’d failed those kids, mainly because I’d followed a set of rules, textbook ‘how to find a murderer’ procedures. Thomas didn’t work to the same rules, no fucking murderer worked to our rules.

  Because I was the most senior detective on the force, my role had always been to coordinate, to sit at a desk and direct the investigation, analyze results, and then take responsibility when it fell apart. I was already being criticized in the press; that was something that just went with the job and normally went straight over my head. If I let every negative comment get to me, I’d never be able to do my job.