by Linda Berry
Hands clammy, Lauren lowered her Beretta. “I’m Officer Starkley. I made the call. A suspect’s at large in this vicinity. Dark clothing, ball cap.”
As cops dispersed rapidly into the park and immediate neighborhood, Lauren updated her report to dispatch. A dozen more officers arrived promptly and joined the manhunt. Shots fired at an officer was deadly serious business.
***
An ambulance arrived and two EMTs got Melissa onto a gurney. Lauren hopped into the back of the ambulance. Siren wailing, the ambulance rolled through city streets, slowing at intersections before picking up speed. Lauren watched the burly black paramedic insert an oxygen cannula into Melissa’s nostrils and check her vital signs. The teen looked small under the white sheet and seemed to be fading in and out of consciousness. Lauren wanted to comfort her, brush her hair back from her damp forehead, but she knew better than to contaminate the victim. The scent Melissa seemed to have been bathed in was stronger in the confined space—minty, woody, cloyingly sweet.
The paramedic relayed Melissa’s stats to the ER then leaned back in his seat.
“How’s she doing?” Lauren asked.
“Stabilized.” He focused his attention on Lauren for the first time. “You see a lot of strange shit in this city. Never get used to it. This one takes the cake. Poor kid.”
Melissa moaned softly, turned a dazed expression to Lauren, and whispered, “I’m so thirsty.”
“No water till she sees a doctor,” the paramedic said.
“Hang on, hon,” Lauren said. “We’re almost there.”
Melissa gripped Lauren’s hand and spoke in a hoarse voice. “How did I get in the park?”
“What do you remember?”
“Not much, after I left school.”
“Which school?”
“Cypress High.”
“You’re a junior?”
“Freshman. I’m fourteen.”
Lauren felt a touch of ice in her gut. Her daughter Courtney was also a freshman at Cypress High. “What time did you leave?”
“Around seven.”
Lauren glanced at her watch. One a.m. “Did you walk home?”
“I took the bus. I’m on the volleyball team. Our game ran late. I got off at Mission.” She paused to swallow. Winced. “I live on Anhurst. Two blocks from the bus stop.”
Not far from Lauren’s neighborhood. “What happened next?”
“Anhurst was dark. A streetlight was out.” Confusion flickered over Melissa’s face. She coughed and continued in a husky whisper. “That’s the last thing I remember. Until I woke up in the park.”
Beneath her professional demeanor, Lauren’s anger simmered. It was no accident that the streetlight was out. Melissa’s assailant had no doubt stalked her, learned her routine, and planned her abduction in meticulous detail. Apparently, it went down without a hitch. The girl was held by her abductor for several hours. Lauren tried not to imagine what happened while the girl was a hostage. As a mother, she hoped Melissa’s lapse of memory would spare her recollections of her assault, but as a cop, she hoped her recollections would help them catch her assailant.
The ambulance pulled to a stop at the ER. The doors were flung open and light poured in from the entryway. With a nagging sense of dread, Lauren followed Melissa’s gurney into the hospital. A sexual predator was loose in her neighborhood.
CHAPTER TWO
MELISSA was pronounced stable enough for a sexual assault exam. Lauren posted herself outside the door, waiting for an inspector from Sex Crimes to arrive and take her statement. In a city where all hell broke loose every night and inspectors were stretched thin, that could take a while. Waiting was her least favorite part of the job. She’d rather be out on patrol, doing her part to keep her district safe.
A frantic-looking woman in jeans and a green turtleneck burst into the lobby. She bypassed the admissions desk, rushed up the hallway, and maneuvered around gurneys carrying dazed and bleeding people. “Where’s my daughter? Where’s Melissa?”
A male nurse approached her. “Mrs. Cox?”
“Yes.”
“Right this way, ma’am.” He ushered her inside the exam room and strode back to the admissions desk.
Lauren’s heart went out to Melissa and her mother. The exam could take four or five hours. Mrs. Cox would have to watch her child get poked, prodded, swabbed, and photographed. An assault on top of an assault.
Steve entered the ER and bypassed a dozen injured patients in the hallway to reach her. At forty, his thick, dark hair was graying at the temples, but he moved with a confident, energetic grace. She felt grateful she could trust him to do his end of the job while she did hers.
“Hey, pipsqueak,” he said.
“Hey, knuckle dragger.”
“Whussup?”
Lauren nodded toward the door. “Getting a rape kit.”
He frowned. “She okay?”
Lauren was silent for a moment. They both knew Melissa wasn’t okay. “Her mom’s with her. No sign of the inspector. We could be here a while.”
“The fun never stops.”
“Everything handled at the crime scene?”
“Yeah, but the suspect’s in the wind.”
“Fuck.”
“What happened out there? I heard gunfire.”
“I saw a suspect crossing the footbridge over the gulch.” She swallowed. “I went after him. He shot at me.”
“Holy shit.” Steve’s face registered shock. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Fine.” Just thinking about it made her pulse race. If the assailant’s intention was to murder a cop, she’d be dead. Not wanting Steve to see her losing it, she walked away, saying over her shoulder, “Need a break.”
“Better shower while you’re in there.”
Lauren understood what he meant when she locked herself in the restroom and saw her reflection. A mess. During her tumble down the gulch her hair had been tugged loose from her ponytail and was tangled with debris and dead leaves. Her face and uniform were specked with mud, and dried blood streaked her hands from scratches she sustained but never felt.
Realizing her teeth were tightly clenched, she relaxed her jaw, washed her hands and face, and studied her face in the mirror. Expression deceptively calm. Green eyes alert and clear. But inside, she was rattled. Lauren replayed the frightening episode from start to finish—the suspect’s actions and her own split-second responses. She relived the moments she lay at the bottom of the gorge caught in the headlights, waiting for a bullet to rip into her flesh. The suspect’s sadism was on full display as he circled her with shots, getting his rocks off witnessing her helplessness. The few seconds he held her life in his hands seemed like an eternity.
She felt certain the bastard had orchestrated the whole event, just like he choreographed the girl’s abduction. He called it in, then lurked just out of sight in the fog watching them with Melissa, waiting for the right moment to separate her from her partner.
Lauren’s anger flared. She had missed her chance to take him down. Perhaps one of her bullets hit him. If so, the forensic team would find his blood, get his DNA, maybe get an ID.
As she tugged her shoulder-length hair back into a ponytail, her throat tightened with emotion when she thought of her daughter. Courtney sometimes stayed late at school for her swim meets and took that same bus home. The victim could have been Courtney!
Sucking in a ragged breath, Lauren adjusted her bulky duty belt and took inventory. Everything in place: sidearm, cuffs, pepper spray, holstered duty weapon. With a placid expression carefully in place, Lauren left the restroom and rejoined her partner.
His dark eyes softened as she approached.
“You okay?”
She shrugged. “No fun getting shot at.”
“Never is. You survived. That’s what counts.” The creases lining his forehead deepened, adding tension to his features. “Don’t let that sick creep get to you. That’s what he wants. Let him get under your skin, he wins. Come here.” He
grabbed her in a rough bear hug and rubbed her back. She leaned into him for a long moment, taking solace before pulling away.
“I’m okay,” she said.
His face relaxed a little and they resumed their stations. She and Steve had stood sentry in these corridors dozens of times while victims and suspects in their charge underwent treatment. They’d seen their share of broken bones, piss, blood, and vomit. On a professional level, they’d built up immunity. Emotionally, never.
After a while, he announced, “I’m gonna go tour the vending machines.”
“You should. They’re beautiful this time of year.”
“Coffee?”
“Sure. A little rotgut toughens the character.”
He returned carrying two Styrofoam cups, his pockets bulging. After handing her a cup, he unloaded a Snickers bar, a pack of powdered doughnuts, and a bag of roasted peanuts onto a side table. Leaning against the wall, he wolfed down a sandwich made with white bread, mystery meat, and bright orange cheese. When Steve was frustrated, he ate junk food. Calories were not an issue. Unfair, she thought, but there you had it.
After he ate, Steve paced the hallway, striking up conversations with patients, tossing greetings at doctors and nurses he knew by name, hiding his agitation, but she knew Melissa’s assault had gotten to him. You couldn’t be a parent and not be affected by an attack on a kid. He wandered back to Lauren, hands resting on his gun belt. “Did Melissa say anything on the ride over?”
She filled him in, and added, “She and Courtney are classmates. Courtney takes the same bus when her swim meet runs late. Christ, I never realized how vulnerable she was.”
Anger sharpened Steve’s features. “If any perv touched Sarah, I’d rip his head off.”
“Damned straight.” She knew Steve to be an overly protective parent. Raising his rebellious daughter alone had been a series of trials by fire. Many times over the years, he arrived at work wrung out with guilt, his daughter’s failings proof of his own. Sarah was now a pregnant college dropout. Steve had remarried three years ago and was raising a new baby with his second wife. Plenty of stress going around, on and off the job.
He ripped open a bag of peanuts with his teeth. She held out her palm and he sprinkled it liberally. They both crunched. The salty peanuts covered the bitter taste of coffee.
CHAPTER THREE
“HERE COMES HARD-ASSED LILLY,” Steve said under his breath.
Inspector Lilly Camino strode toward them dressed in a navy windbreaker, dark slacks, and sensible rubber-soled shoes. Her graying hair was pulled back from her sharp features in a severe knot and her hard brown eyes peered at them through bottle-thick glasses. A briefcase bulged in her right hand, forcing her body to list slightly to the left.
Camino had been Lauren’s first partner. Lauren remembered with distaste the woman’s domineering, competitive style, and her jealousy when Lauren outsmarted her. The relationship disintegrated after six months. Camino put in for a transfer. Though Lauren disliked her, she couldn’t help but respect her. One of the early female pioneers on the force, Camino had risen through the ranks the hard way, running the brutal gauntlet of gender discrimination. Back in the seventies, a woman had to outperform her male counterparts to get promotions. Camino had sacrificed a personal life to put in long, grueling hours. Her skin toughened, and now she showed no patience for sloppy work from her subordinates. She’d paved the way for other women, like Lauren, who now made up fifteen percent of the force.
“Hey, Lilly.” Lauren forced a smile.
Camino didn’t smile back. She had a careful face, one that didn’t warm easily. “How’s the vic?”
“Stabilized. Getting a rape kit.”
Camino switched her briefcase to her other hand. “Let’s find a room with privacy.”
Coffee cups in hand, Lauren and Steve followed her into a small windowless break room reserved for staff. Lilly shut the door, poured a cup of coffee from a pot on the counter, and stirred in two packets of sugar. The three slid into hard plastic seats circling a Formica-topped table, listening to a refrigerator hum loudly in one corner.
Camino placed her briefcase on the floor, rifled through it, and methodically laid a file folder and clipboard on the table. Without looking up, she clipped, “Okay, Starkley, you first. You took some shots tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Shoot.” For several minutes, Camino jotted down Lauren’s account of the events in Cypress Park, then Steve filled in the blanks. Camino summarized, asked a few questions, and scratched more ink across her pad. Seemingly satisfied, she retreated into silence, scanning her notes. It was her way of saying the meeting was over.
Steve glanced at Lauren and nodded toward the door. Their job was done. Sex Crimes would do the detective work.
“Anything more you can tell us, Lilly?” Lauren asked, breaking into Camino’s concentration. “Is SCI familiar with this perp?”
Camino raised her eyebrows inquiringly, showing faint distaste. “Yeah, we know him. I can’t tell you any more than you’ll get at your station briefing tomorrow.”
“I’m off tomorrow.”
Camino tightened her mouth, lifted her cup, and sipped her coffee. She cleared her throat. “We believe this perp assaulted two other girls in Oakland. Same age as Melissa. The first took place four weeks ago. The second, two weeks ago. We don’t know why he moved across the bay tonight.” Looking haggard, Camino leaned back in her chair and drained her cup.
“Why haven’t we heard about him in the press?” Lauren asked.
“The first two assaults didn’t seem to be connected. His first victim was still dressed in her school uniform, minus underwear. Strangled nearly to death, yes, but her face wasn’t painted. No rose. He didn’t keep her long. Maybe a couple hours. She must’ve been his test case.” Lilly removed her glasses, rubbed her eyes.
“The second vic?”
“The prelim to Melissa. Nude, white face, holding a rose. He had her for five or six hours. The connecting tissue is that both girls were posed as corpses and had similar ligature marks.” She paused, tapping out a beat on the table with her pencil. “This predator is smart. He’s organized. With tonight’s assault, he established a clear MO. We’ll now alert the public that a violent serial rapist is on the loose targeting teenage girls.”
Camino pushed her chair back from the table, refilled her cup. “When this story breaks tomorrow, parents are going to be up in arms, demanding an arrest. Melissa was found in your district. You know what that means.”
“Yeah, I know the drill,” Lauren said. “Our station is going to be under a microscope and held accountable if the case isn’t broken quickly.”
“Right.”
“We can’t keep this offender’s weird MO under wraps for long,” Steve said. “It’s gonna leak out.”
“Let’s hope that doesn’t happen,” Camino said. “We need to keep those details classified, to avoid copycats. For now, the public needs to know this guy is armed and dangerous, and he tried to kill a police officer.”
“He wasn’t trying to kill me. He was playing me,” Lauren said, leaning forward in her chair. “His shots were meant as a warning.”
Camino gazed at her coldly. “What kinda bullshit is that?”
“His bullets landed at least twenty feet away, on every side.”
“That’s just the kinda crap this asshole’s defense team will eat up. Win him sympathy in court. I advise you to keep that asinine notion to yourself.”
“We have to work from an accurate profile,” Lauren said. “How else can we second guess him?”
“Stick to patrol, Lauren,” Camino said. “Leave the analysis to us.”
“I was there. You weren’t.”
Camino’s wide mouth tightened. “You got a problem with the way I’m doing my job?”
Lauren mulled over a tart reply. Steve’s eyes flashed a warning. The inspector could make trouble for them. Big trouble.
“No, we don’t have a problem, Li
lly,” Steve said calmly, always the diplomat. He got up and poured his cold coffee into the sink and signaled to Lauren. Time to go.
She read his concern but there was one more thing she needed to ask. “Did the Oakland girls go to the same high school?”
“Yes. Lincoln High.”
“Freshmen?”
“Yes.”
Lauren felt queasy. Tonight, a methodical sexual predator had set his sights on freshman girls at Cypress High.
Camino cast her a curious glance.
“My daughter’s a freshman at Melissa’s school.”
Lilly heaved out a sigh, opened her briefcase, and shoved in the folder and clipboard.
“Look, Lilly. Personal feelings aside, you and I both want the same thing. To get this guy. Steve and I can do some legwork for you.”
“I don’t need your help. This is a high-profile case. It needs to be handled carefully. We can’t have untrained people running around acting like inspectors.”
Lauren felt the muscles tighten in her neck. Steve shot her another look. She kept her mouth shut.
“Anything else you want to know you can read in the paper.” Camino picked up the weighty briefcase, shot Lauren a warning look, and left the room without a backward glance.
“Man, she’s got a hair up her ass tonight,” Lauren said coldly.
“You shouldn’t goad her. She’s still got it in for you.”
Lauren scowled.
“What the hell happened when you two were partners?”
“Let’s just say it’s six months of my life I can’t get back.” Ratting out another cop wasn’t her style. Even to Steve. “Let’s go.”
***
The second they hit their patrol car a call came in. Dispatch sent them to help EMTs scrape a twenty-something, bare-bottomed female out of a tenement doorway. She was passed out in her own vomit, jeans tangled around her ankles, arms pocked with needle scars, the paraphernalia of her wrecked life discarded nearby—a syringe and a used condom.
