by Blake Pierce
CHAPTER SIX
Avery wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting when she walked back into the precinct for the first time in over three months. Maybe some butterflies in her stomach or a wave of nostalgia. Maybe even a secure feeling that would make her wonder why she ever thought it had been a smart idea to quit in the first place.
What she wasn’t expecting was to feel nothing. Yet, that’s what she felt. When she walked back into the A1 the following morning, she felt nothing special. It felt almost like she hadn’t missed a day and was just churning out another day—any other old day, just like before.
Apparently, though, she was the only one in the building who felt that way. As she made her way through the building and back toward her old office, she noticed that the busy rush of the morning seemed to quiet as she passed by. It was almost like a wave of silence followed her. The receptionists on the phone went quiet, the murmur of conversation by the coffee pots fell silent. They all looked at her as if some huge celebrity had entered the building; their eyes were wide with wonder and their faces were slack. Avery wondered for a moment if Connelly had even bothered telling anyone that she was coming back.
After weaving her way through the central part of the building and to the back where the offices and conference rooms were, it felt a little more natural. Miller, a records and research guy, gave her a little wave. Denson, an older officer who had maybe two years left before retirement, gave her a smile, a wave, and a genuine: “Nice to have you back!”
Avery returned the woman’s smile, thinking: I’m not back.
But on the heels of that there was another thought. Whatever. Tell yourself that lie all you want. But this feels natural to you. It feels right.
She saw Connelly coming out of his office at the end of the hallway. The man had caused her some pain and headaches over the years but damn if she wasn’t glad to see him. The grin on his face let her know the feeling was mutual. He met her in the hallway and she could tell that the A1 captain—usually a staunch hard ass—was holding himself back from giving her a hug.
“How was it coming in?” he asked.
“Weird,” she said. “They looked at me like I was a celebrity or something. I couldn’t tell if they wanted to avert their eyes or bust out into spontaneous applause.”
“Truth be told, I was worried you’d get a standing ovation for coming in. You’ve been missed around here, Black. You…well, you and Ramirez both.”
“I appreciate that, sir.”
“Good. Because I’m about to show you something that might piss you off. You see…deep down, I had this hope that you’d come back some day. But we couldn’t just make the entire A1 stay on pause until that day came. So you don’t exactly have an office anymore.”
He explained this to her as he led her down the hallway, in the direction of her old office.
“That’s not a big deal at all,” Avery said. “Who got that dump anyway?”
Connelly didn’t answer. Instead, he took the last final steps toward her office and nodded toward it. Avery approached the door and poked her head in. Her heart warmed a bit at what she saw.
Finley was sitting at her desk, sipping from a mug of coffee and reading something on a laptop. When he saw Avery, his face went through a variety of emotions: shock, happiness, and then settling on embarrassment.
He did not show the same restraint as Connelly had. He instantly got up from the desk and met her at the door with a hug. She had underestimated how much she had missed him. While they had never truly worked together, she had enjoyed watching Finley slowly make his way up the ladder. He was funny, loyal, and genuinely kindhearted. She’d always felt as if he were a distant brother in the workplace.
“It’s good to have you back,” Finley said. “We’ve missed you around here.”
“I already went through all of that with her,” Connelly said. “Let’s not give her a big head her first day back.”
Dammit, I’m not back, she thought. But it felt even flimsier than it had five minutes ago.
“You want me to take her out to the site?” Finley asked.
“Yes, and soon. O’Malley is going to want to touch base with her later and I’d like her all nice and caught up when he lands here. Ride her out there and catch her up on everything we know. Try to get out of here in the next ten minutes or so if you can.”
Finley nodded, visibly happy to have been given the task. As he hurried back to the computer, Connelly motioned Avery back out into the hallway. “Come with me,” he said.
She followed him farther down the hall, to the big office at the end. Connelly’s office hadn’t changed a bit since she left. Still cluttered but in a neat sort of way. There were three coffee mugs on his desk and she guessed at least two of them were from this morning alone.
“One more thing,” Connelly said, walking behind his desk. He opened his top desk drawer and pulled out two things that Avery had missed probably more than any of the people in this building.
Her gun and her badge. She smiled as she reached out to them.
“I already filed the paperwork for you,” Connelly said. “They’re yours. In terms of pay and the duration of your stay, I’m handling that paperwork, too.”
Avery honestly didn’t care about the pay or how long she was expected to stay onboard for the case. When her fingers fell on the badge and then picked up the Glock, she felt something slide into place inside her heart.
As sad as it seemed, the badge and the gun felt familiar.
They felt like home.
***
The crime scene was six days old and, therefore, was vacant when she and Finley got there. They ducked under the yellow tape and she watched as Finley unlocked Alfred Lawnbrook’s apartment door with a key he took from a small envelope that he’d kept in the breast pocket of his shirt.
“You got a fear of spiders?” Finley asked as they stepped inside.
“A bit,” she said. “But that goes no farther than right here, deal?”
Finley nodded with a grim smile. “I only ask because while there were arachnologists and exterminators that came in and took care of them, there were a few stragglers. Just common ones, though. Nothing fancy.”
He led her through he apartment. It was very basic; the layout and appliances told her that Lawnbrook had either been a divorcé or a bachelor. “But there were ones that had no business here, right?” she asked.
“Absolutely,” Finley said. “At least three species. One was local to India, I think. I’ve got the detailed notes saved on my phone if you want them. The spider expert that came out and looked the place over said that there were at least two species at the crime scene when the body was found that would have had to have been ordered from a dealer. And that it would likely have been hard to get.”
“Any huge ones that you know of?” Avery asked.
“I think they said the biggest one was about the size of a golf ball. And if you ask me, that’s big enough.”
They entered the bedroom and Avery did her best not to start scanning the walls and floor for rogue spiders. She did a quick sweep of the room and found it expertly cleaned out. The closet door was standing open, allowing Finley to reach inside and flick the light on. He did so very quickly and then stepped back just as fast.
“Lawnbrook was slumped over in the back left corner,” Finley said. “We’ve got the pictures back at A1 and I’m sure O’Malley would love to go over them with you. That asshole is fascinated with this case.”
Avery stepped into the closet doorway. Other than a few stray threads of cobweb in the corner, there was nothing to be seen.
She then left the bedroom and started looking the place over for any signs of a break-in. Finley followed behind her, keeping his distance and letting her work. She looked for anything knocked out of place, even something as small as a picture in the living room, but found nothing. She scanned the books sitting on the small bookshelf beside the entertainment center for anything linking Lawnbrook to spiders but
found nothing.
“Do we have any kind of link at all between Lawnbrook and an interest in spiders?” Avery asked.
“No. Nothing.”
“Has anyone spoken with the family?”
“Yes. And I think O’Malley ran backup on that. From what I understand, they painted Lawnbrook as something of a scaredy-cat. Hated roller coasters, scary movies, things like that. So the chance that he had a thing for spiders seemed to be thrown out the window.”
So if the spiders weren’t here because of Lawnbrook, why were they here? Avery wondered. And what sort of a person would bring them here? And why?
The days upon days of keeping her mind sharp with Sudoku and crosswords had paid off. Once the questions started rolling through her head, she couldn’t get them to stop. And it felt good.
“Do you know if Lawnbrook is still with the coroner?” she asked.
“Yeah, he’s still there. The spider experts have been studying him. There were eggs found in his nose and lower intestine during the autopsy.”
Avery couldn’t suppress the shudder she felt at this revelation. “Feel like taking a ride over there?”
“I’ll take you anywhere you’d like to go, so long as it gets me away from this place. I know they’re all gone, but—”
“But it feels like they’re crawling on you,” Avery said with a shaky grin. “I know. Let’s get going.”
***
Even the hectic pace of traveling from one stop to the next to find answers felt amazing to her. It wasn’t just her moving, but her life. She could feel the sensation of things in motion, of people and places buzzing by her as Finley drove her to the coroner’s office.
She had hoped there might be an arachnologist there when they arrived, but was disappointed. She did find that the woman who performed the autopsy was there. And that was the next best thing. After being ushered through to the back and to the examination rooms, Avery and Finley met with Cho Yin. Yin was a petite, beautiful Asian woman who seemed more than pleased to discuss the case. Like O’Malley, she also seemed to find the case morbidly fascinating.
They met in Yin’s office, a very tidy room with an ancient-looking filing cabinet in the back corner. Avery introduced herself and wasted no time getting right to the point. She already felt like she was behind because of coming on so late and didn’t have the convenience of niceties.
“I suppose my first question is about the bites,” Avery said. “From what I understand, there were only two.”
Yin shook her head and looked surprised. “That’s not correct at all. Some bad reporting on the part of the media, I think. There were three bites from spiders that could have been lethal. But there were other bites as well, mostly from non-venomous spiders. There were twenty-two in all.”
“Oh my god,” Avery said. “And would that be enough to kill someone?”
“Yes, especially one of the bites from the venomous spiders. There were two bites from a brown recluse, as backed up by the entomologist that was on hand during the exam. The third venomous bite came from a funnel web spider. And from what I understand, that’s the rare one. The family from which that spider came isn’t native to the States.”
“Where does it come from, then?” Avery asked.
“I don’t know. You’d have to speak with the arachnologist. And you know, I must say that I can’t be absolutely certain the venom from the bites killed the victim. It was something that the spider expert and I disagreed on, actually.”
“Why is that? What do you think killed him?”
“Well, Mr. Lawnbrook’s cortisol levels were much higher than they should have been. Essentially, he was basically terrified at the moment of his death—but the levels I saw were off of the charts. The heart showed massive signs of stress and trauma. I am quite certain Mr. Lawnbrook suffered a heart attack during his time in the closet. He was that frightened.”
“Is the body still here?” Avery asked.
“It is. I have to warn you, though…it’s a pretty grisly sight.”
“I’ll be okay,” Avery said.
She had nearly said I’m sure I’ve seen worse but then she tried to imagine what someone with twenty-two spider bites—three of which were deadly—might look like. The imagery from what Finley had told her about eggs being found in the nostrils and intestine did not sit well with her either. Still, she felt she needed to see the body for any other signs or clues.
Yin led them to the rear exam room and methodically walked over to the rows of sliding cabinets. With a hefty pull, she drew out the slab that Alfred Lawnbrook was occupying. She stepped back, allowing Avery and Finley room to step forward. Avery approached the body while Finley remained close to the door, making it clear that he had no intention of getting any closer to the body.
Even after the care and cleaning of the morgue, Lawnbrook’s body looked rough. The incisions from the autopsy were almost completely overshadowed by the swelling and discoloration of the skin. Granted, it wasn’t nearly as bad as what Avery had pictured in her head but it was still rather grim.
One bite on Lawnbrook’s face had caused swelling along the left side, making his eye look slightly displaced. The lack of blood flow through the body made the swelling and discoloration seem almost fake, giving the entire body a waxen glow. Avery did her best to look over the body for any signs of physical abuse. And while the slight discoloration made it hard to do a thorough search, Avery was pretty sure there was nothing to be seen.
“Thank you,” Avery said, stepping away from the body.
Cho Yin nodded and closed the drawer. “Of course, the cooling temperatures we keep here and the exam itself altered the appearance. He looked much worse when he came in. I can send you over some of those photos if you like.”
“No, I don’t think that will be necessary. But thank you for your time, Ms. Yin.”
She and Finley walked back outside and as they made their way to the car, the questions continued coming to Avery. She sorted them out numerous ways, loving the feel of her brain naturally falling back into what it was good at.
Sure, it’s natural for most people to be scared of spiders…especially that many. But would they be scared enough to cause a heart attack? And if so…well, something about attacking someone in such a way felt personal. So maybe the killer knew the victim…which opens up a whole different avenue.
That gives us two clear paths: looking for someone with an intimate knowledge of spiders, and someone who knew Lawnbrook and had some sort of grudge against him.
“Where to now?” Finley asked as he slid behind the wheel.
Avery couldn’t help but feel proud of him. He was taking charge and doing so in a way that was not overpowering. He was going to be a damn fine detective sooner rather than later.
“Back to the precinct,” she answered. “I’d like to sit down with O’Malley and come up with a clear plan of attack before going any farther.”
Finley seemed glad to drive away from the morgue and Avery didn’t blame him. Few cases had gotten under her skin and this might be the first one to feel as if it were crawling on her skin. But underneath even that nervous feeling was the excitement of being back on the job—of tracking down leads and, at the end, finding a killer and bringing them to justice.
CHAPTER SEVEN
He sat at his worktable and looked at all of the pictures on the wall. It was eerie to know that he was seeing a man in the images who was no longer alive. These pictures were really all that remained of him—the pictures and the miserable little imprints on the world he had left behind.
But this was a man who had lived his life in fear. And as far as he was concerned, living in fear was no way to live.
It was a lesson he’d had to learn himself, especially when acquiring all of those spiders. He’d never been afraid of them, but to see the bigger ones and how they were actual living, breathing things…they became something altogether different.
He was sitting in his basement, a small desk lamp and the glow from
his laptop providing the only light in the place. He’d just finished watching the latest report about Alfred Lawnbrook. The authorities still had no idea where to look, no clues, no leads. And that’s because he had let the spiders do the work for him. In the end, he had not had to place a single hand on Lawnbrook.
Behind him, something rattled. He turned and saw the old cage sitting in the floor. There were two tree limbs and an abundance of grass along the bottom of it. The squirrel was getting finicky, darting around the cage and desperately trying to find a way out.
He went to the cage, unfastened the door, and reached in. He snatched the squirrel up carefully by its neck. The little bastard had taken a nip out of his thumb the last time he’d done this so he had learned his lesson.
The squirrel went still in his hand. He could feel its little heartbeat on the underside of his hand, thrumming away like a kick drum. This was why he had the squirrel—to watch it, to observe. They were likely the most skittish animals in the world, always afraid of something. And if he was going to better understand fear, what better subject was there to observe?
He took the squirrel back to the desk. He reached under the concave area where his chair usually went and pulled out the old mop bucket. It was filled to the brim with water. Slowly, he dipped the squirrel’s tail into it. The creature went spastic right away, fighting to get free.
He then lowered it some more, until its back legs and rear end were in the water. The squirrel’s eyes went wide and it started letting out pitiful mewling sounds. It was terrified now, fighting for its life. He was so enraptured by watching it that he lost his focus for a moment. The squirrel turned a certain way that only rodents seemed capable of, and took a bite out of the back of his hand.
He screamed and dropped the squirrel into the water. It thrashed and tried to swim to the edge, but never stood a chance.
Still raging over his bitten hand, he pushed the squirrel under. He watched it the entire time, thrashing and sending bubbles up. He held it down until it stopped moving under his hand and then he held it some more.
