Darkening Skye (Under Covers Book 1)

by Adalind White

  "Would it help if I go in there?"

  All four looked at me. I smiled awkwardly avoiding their gazes. I was getting back to my old self but the memory of that man's touches was fresh in my mind. I felt dirty and broken inside. Even so, I had to at least offer. I expected them to reject my offer as kindly as they could.

  "Yes," Woods said.

  The bottom dropped out of my stomach. I didn't feel ready to be in the same room with him. Woods instructed me:

  "You have to let him see you're afraid of him. Act tough and tell him that you're not afraid, but make him believe he still has power over you. He will want to make you admit it."

  He had seen me vulnerable. Worse, he had been able to dominate me. He had the opportunity to kill me and I knew it. The only reason I was alive was because he had allowed it.

  "Ok," I said.

  It wasn't going to take much acting. He had more power over me than he thought because he could reveal my fantasy about Woods. Writing the incident report had been mortifying enough, now I had to go through it again, in front of witnesses. Katherine handed me her notes, and I followed Woods out of the room.

  The thought that it was going to be good practice for the trial didn't help in the least. Admitting in front of dozens of people that I was molested, that I was unable to defend myself, and having it all on public record was not something I looked forward to. It was my duty to put this monster behind bars. If public humiliation was the price I had to pay for that, I'd pay it.

  "Hello, Sophia," Dvorak said. "And Mark," he added when he saw Woods behind me.

  Woods closed the door and came to sit next to me on the other side of the table from him.

  "I am detective Walker, Mr. Dvorak. This is detective Woods. I understand that you deny what happened between us a few hours ago. Can you tell me your version of events for the record, please?"

  "You can still call me Leo," he said not bothering to answer my question.

  His lawyer piped in. "My client made a full statement about his movements."

  I looked down at Katherine's clipboard, pretending to read through it. Leo looked from me to Woods whose posture radiated an anxiety I knew to be a lie. My idol didn't manage to fool me into believing he was afraid of Dvorak. Maybe he was afraid that he might snap and endanger the conviction.

  "Now it makes sense. You had serious daddy issues before you met me. I thought you said it to please me, but now I stand corrected."

  "Mr. Dvorak, please continue the fascinating story of your alibi," I said.

  The tension in Woods became even more obvious. Leo's gaze slid from me to Woods, and measured him with that creepy beasty vibe.

  "He doesn't know," Dvorak said.

  "Mr. Dvorak, please answer my question."

  He pretended not to hear me, and he addressed Woods.

  "I'm sure that your story is far more interesting than anything I could say."

  Woods didn't say anything, his shoulders softened a little, as if he was defeated. He displayed weakness to the predator and only now, seeing it from the outside, I could see the impact of empowering a predator. I tensed up to snapping point. At that moment, I wanted more than anything for Leo to shut up, even if that meant we didn't get our confession.

  "I can just see the two of you… cooped up in that big house all alone. I can understand why you would be tempted to enjoy the forbidden fruit."

  He talked to Woods in a tone I had sometimes heard from Woods when he was drawing a murder into admitting something they most wanted to keep hidden. I knew they were playing each other, Woods trying to get Dvorak overconfident enough to incriminate himself, Dvorak trying to get a rise out Woods.

  What pissed me off beyond measure was to have him so bluntly describe what happened. Because the son of a bitch was right. It had been the close proximity, the loneliness, the hormones. I thought I did good job playing my part. How could that guy could read my secrets so well? Then I realized that he hadn't. If he had suspected even for a moment that something incestuous was going on between us, he wouldn't have showed up in my bedroom. He liked innocent girls, unwary of the darkness of this world. His victims had all been women who traveled alone because they were not afraid of monsters like the one in front of me. I had to provoke him.

  "Oh, please," I said dismissively. "We were under your nose for weeks and you had no clue we were cops. You pray on innocent girls because you're not man enough to handle a real woman. No wonder your wife walked into traffic."

  In a split second, he lunged at me and his hand was wrapped around my throat again. The beast looked at me through Leo's eyes, he snarled his poison at me while he was pushed back and restrained by Woods.

  "You little bitch! I should have wringed your neck! Don't think I forgot how you came all over my hand like a little slut. I bet your panties are soaked right now. When I get my hands on you again, you're not going to call daddy when you come. You'll call my name."

  His lawyer was too stunned to intervene in time. Woods had him pinned to the wall. The detective's body lost all traces of weakness. His voice was low and menacing when he spoke.

  "You can dream about that in your cell. Leonard Dvorak, you are under arrest for assaulting a police officer."

  Did I get away with it? Maybe they didn't catch what he said. Maybe they're too horrified at the slut coming all over his hand comment to hear the daddy part. I was lying to myself but I didn't care. The only way to be functional for as long as I was in New York was to deny that anything had ever happened between me and the infamous Nicholas Woods. I had to cling onto this thin and unfounded belief. Until anyone called me up on it, I was going to believe that the best detectives of NYPD and the Assistant District Attorney and the anyone who read the transcripts or saw the video, they were all going to miss the part when Leonard Dvorak told the world I screamed Daddy when I came.

  Chapter 19 Killer caught

  Nicholas

  We took him to lock-up and I booked him myself. Whatever anger Walker's words had roused in him was well and truly doused by the reality of his confession. He didn't try to taunt me again, just answered my questions - date of birth, mother's name, father's job. His voice remained steady throughout. When I asked him if he wanted to make arrangements for his daughter, he didn't even blink.

  "She can take care of herself," he said.

  The reply surprised me. Not just the lack of defiance, but the very fact that he didn't want to make any arrangements for Anna to stay with someone. I was tempted to goad him into spewing more venom about detective Walker but the subject didn't sit well with me. That lecherous monster had touched her, taking advantage of my absence. I promised myself to have a serious word with young Skye Walker. Even a month after I first met her, and even in these bleak circumstances, I still found her name hilarious.

  My mood was less than jolly, no matter how funny I found her name. That monster had humiliated my colleague. What was maybe worse, I couldn't get out of my head was that she had called for Daddy when she came. Everyone else might well think that she had done it to play Dvorak, or that it was an older, secret kink, but I knew better. Skye called her father Noah. She only used Daddy for me.

  When I got back to the squad room, I saw Anna Dvorak talking to Katherine at our desk. She seemed agitated, and when she saw me her eyes widened.

  "You? What are you doing here?" she said in a strangled voice.

  "I am detective Nicholas Woods. Did my partner explain to you that your father is arrested?"

  "Yes. But this can't be right. I don't understand."

  Katherine shook her head to let me know that she hadn't told her the whole truth.

  "In the course of our inquiries he assaulted a police officer. His lawyer was with him. He will be arraigned in the morning."

  "But why was he here? What do you people think he did?"

  One of the small conference rooms to my right was empty. I gestured toward it invitingly.

  "Please, miss Dvorak, let's talk somewhere more private."


  "This is a mistake," she said over and over again.

  I picked up the Tourist Murders file and we went into the other room. Katherine closed the door behind us and the tumult of the squad room was hushed.

  "Your father is a person of interest in a series of murders."

  She looked back and forth between me and Katherine.

  "I'm sorry, I can't take this seriously. You… You're our next-door neighbor. You're an architect, my father talked to you about architecture and construction. You're friends. This… This is not real."

  "It's serious, miss Dvorak. I am a police officer. Your father was under surveillance for the brutal murders of six women."

  "What about Sophia? Is she really your daughter?"

  "No. She is also a police officer."

  "What is her name?"

  "Detective Walker."

  She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her eyes fell on the folder that stood between us on the desk.

  "Is that…?"

  I nodded.

  "He told us he was at home, with you when these murders were committed. I'm going to tell you the dates and times. Please think of these women when you answer."

  I took out the printed selfies of the girls and placed them one by one on the table, like a blackjack dealer revealing cards. Then I took out the autopsy photos, and paired them with each living girl while I said the dates.

  "I, I c-can't," she stuttered, her eyes glued to the monstrous images of stolen youth. " I don't remember. I can't think!"

  "Take all the time you need," I said. "Let's start with the first one. Were you with him on June 11, between 4 and 7 pm."

  She reached for the two photos of the first girl. She ran her fingers around the edges of the photos.

  "No, I don't think I was."

  Anyone who didn't know Katherine as well as me would not have noticed the subtle unwinding. One down, five to go. I couldn't relax until I heard her say that about all the victims. Minutes crawled by until she did. Six times out of six, she did not alibi her father.

  "Thank you, miss Dvorak," I said after the last one.

  Katherine stood up and Anna followed her example. They walked out of the room together while I put the photos back in the folder.

  "Do you have anyone who can pick you up?" Katherine asked her.

  "No, umm, I don't know," Anna said. "I can call a cab."

  "An officer can take you home if you want."

  Anna looked at her with a mixture of gratitude and confusion.

  "Ok. That would be nice."

  Chapter 20 The twist

  Skye

  My New York studio seemed even more cramped than usual. The villa in Gracenote had reminded me of the wide spaces of my parents' house. College dorms hadn't been that bad because the doors were always open and we were in and out of room all the time. College itself was something of an extension of my life in the commune. Maybe I was a little too New Age-y and free spirited than some of them, but I wasn't much out of the norm. Flip-flops were still accepted footwear. The Police Academy was the first time I was truly out of my element, but those six months passed in a flurry of activity and an overload of new information. My flat in Los Angeles was not much different than this dingy place. But of course, there was the weather to make everything nicer.

  I hadn't even had time to get anything to eat. A perfect excuse to order in again. I had to fight the urge to order pizza. New York had a good reason to be proud of its pizza. I went to the menus stuck with magnets on my fridge. My mind drifted as I was looking and I ended up calling a number at random.

  Autumn days were growing shorter. I dozed off until the sharp buzz of the intercom startled me awake. On auto-pilot I let him in, prepared the money, opened the door, exchanged the money for the food, set the food on the table and promptly went back to sleep.

  It was night time when a hesitant knock on the door woke me up. My stomach growled and I went to open the door for the delivery guy. When I saw Anna Dvorak at my door I remembered that the food was already on the table. My first reaction was panic that I blew my cover. Reality soon settled in, her father was in custody and she probably knew who I was.

  "Hi," she said in a voice only barely more than a whisper. Her eyes were sunken in and she looked fragile.

  "Hello."

  I didn't want to move aside to invite her in. It didn't feel right for her to be there.

  "They arrested my father."

  They. She didn't include me. The good manners and open house policy my parents had instilled in me since I was a child told me to let her in. I wished I could tell her 'Sorry, sister, but your father is a monster and he's getting what he deserves' but she looked like she was going to crumble on my doorstep.

  "Come on in."

  I took a look on the hallway out of habit before closing the door. It was empty. The watch on my wall said eleven. I was bone tired from the emotional trials of the day compounded with my hours at the gym. My knuckles and legs hurt. My muscles were also getting stiff with the accumulation of lactic acid. It was only natural after such a long pause from my Muay Thai practice. If she hadn't showed up, I'd probably be sleeping all the way through the night. Thanks to her I was awake instead of recuperating. Hunger made me even more irritable than the mere lack of sleep.

  "I didn't get a chance to eat today. Let's have some Chinese."

  "Are you really…"

  I was really pissed off because she woke me up, but I tried to hide it. After weeks trying to get close to her, maybe I should cut her some slack for still thinking of me as a friend.

  "A detective, yes."

  She didn't seem inclined to talk so I fell back on my training. Ask questions.

  "How did you find me?"

  "Detective Woods…"

  Her voice trailed off again. I was no longer bratty Sophia Doyle who had all the time in the world to ingratiate herself into middle class princess Anna's life. I was a tired cop who had to be at work early the next morning. In a few brisk movements I had the one portion of food split up into two plates. There was no point in asking her if she wanted anything to drink. My fridge was just as empty as I left it before the mission.

  "Did you even like me?"

  I felt sorry for her. I hadn't liked her because of her father. How could anyone live with a monster and not know it? This was not the time and the place for such truths, so I told a necessary lie.

  "I like you."

  I had expected that sort of question, yet something inside me reacted. A spike of fear shot through me so fast I wasn't even sure I had felt it. I went to the couch to pick up the remote control and while I turned the TV on with one hand, I sent the panic message to Woods. I hadn't had much luck with it last time, and I didn't know why I did it. Maybe it creeped me out to have Anna Dvorak in my house.

  She loaded her fork with vegetables. I joined her at the table and we allowed the late night show to fill in the silence while we ate. I stifled a yawn, realizing that I was more tired than I thought. My limbs seemed to get heavier and I had trouble keeping my eyes open. Anna's green eyes sparkled eerily.

  "You're tired," she said.

  "Nah, I'm ok."

  The words sounded weird even to my ears. My jaw felt lax and my mouth didn't shape the words right. Pain exploded in my face when Anna's punch connected with my nose. I tried to tell her that I was only doing my job, that I understood that she was upset, that everything was going to be ok, but no sounds came out, except groans of pain. My mind was muddled and the second punch, this time to my temple rocked me harder. I slid into unconsciousness.

  When I woke up, my arms were tied behind my back. My legs were bound at the ankles and at the knees. I was face down on the floor. I kept my eyes closed and focused on the sounds. A sharp kick to my ribs told me that my captor knew I was awake.

  "Wakey-wakey, detective. You don't want to miss all the fun."

  Anna's voice, but not her voice. So maybe she wasn't the innocent we thought. I tried to wriggl
e onto one side and I felt the heel of her boot dig into my back. She pressed me hard into the floor. I had an uncomfortable deja-vu of the crime scene photos. The victims were found exactly in that position. Their wrists were tied with silk rope, but I felt handcuffs. That bitch had used my own handcuffs!

  I understood why the supposition was that there was something wrong physically with the killer. He had to be tall judging by the marks he had left on the body, but his need to restrain the victim to such extent spoke of the necessity to control the victim. That was what had bothered us after we met Leonard Dvorak. It didn't make sense for a man so physically fit like Leonard Dvorak to need this. The bite marks matched, the bruises on the bodies were consistent with his height. Whatever she used to drug me was clearing off. Too bad it didn't help me free me from the restraints.

  "You think that killing me will make the cops think that the real Tourist Killer is still out there? Think again, sister."

  She wasn't answering and I heard no change in her breathing. Maybe I wasn't using the right bait for her. Then an idea struck me. It was too horrendous to be true.

  "You? You killed all of them? But why?"

  She kicked me again. Hard, but only once. She was too much in control of herself. I had to make her angry. I had to force her to make a mistake.

  "You always do your father's dirty work? No wonder you're just an assistant manager at the restaurant. You're made to take orders like brainless minion."

  "Shut your mouth."

  The fury in her words made me smile despite the vicious kicks.

  'That's it. Get angry. Get closer.'

  "Or what? You will carve me like the Thanksgiving turkey? Oh, wait, you're planning on doing that anyway, you psychotic bitch."

  "You have no idea how much I wanted to do this. When I saw how he looked at you. He couldn't see you for what you are."

  Her words were punctuated by kicks. I took advantage of her frenzied attack to dislocate my thumb. It hurt almost as much as what she was doing to me. I prepared myself for the only chance I had, to roll under her feet and make her lose balance.