by Tyler Porter
“Sign of forced entry?” I asked.
They looked around at one another momentarily before Simmons answered. “No immediate signs. Third-story apartment, no balcony, only access point is the front door and it is fully intact. No damage,” he said.
“Did we talk to the neighbors?” I asked.
“A few of them, didn’t get much out of them.” This time, it was Perez who spoke up.
“Well, talk to them again. No evidence of forced entry means our guy came and went from the front door. Somebody saw him coming or leaving.”
“Crime scene techs on the way? Do we have an ETA?” I said.
“Yeah boss, they should be here any minute now,” Cooper answered.
“Good. Make sure these people know not to touch anything until they get here,” I instructed.
The team members began to disburse. All except for Hunt who stayed standing where he was across from me in the living room until it was only the two of us. I was looking around the room, trying not to meet his eyes, but he was persistent. He held his gaze until I couldn’t avoid it any longer. I made eye contact but quickly had to look away to compose myself quickly. I cleared my throat before I spoke.
“We have a murder weapon?” I asked.
“Casey,” he said taking a step toward me. I took a step backward.
“Do we have a murder weapon?” I said, a little louder this time. He got the hint.
“We…..we aren’t sure,” he answered carefully.
“What do you mean you aren’t sure?” I asked.
“Norris, our guy is back,” he said.
I looked away again choking back my emotions. Slowly, the realization started to kick in. “….Me being here is a conflict of interest Hunt, putting aside the fact that I am retired. Why did you call me here?” I already knew the answer. It was about me. This was all about me.
Hunt tried to change the subject reading from a small notebook in his hand. “From what we can tell nothing was taken—”
“But something was left behind,” I stated coldly. I didn’t wait for a response. I turned toward the hallway that led to the bedroom and started toward it.
Chapter 11: You Have My Attention
“Casey, wait!” Hunt said, but it was too late.
I took the path down the hallway and without giving myself time to reconsider; I walked into Shelby’s bedroom. I knew instantly why Hunt had wanted me to wait. He was going to try to prepare me for what I was going to see. I was also immediately aware as to why they were unsure of a murder weapon.
Blood stained every surface of the room. There were streaks of it on the walls and ceiling. Crimson puddles covered the majority of the floor. Her white bedsheets had been turned a reddish pink. It was definitely the same killer. The killer that I had ignored. The killer that I had walked away from when I accepted my retirement. I knew because it was the same signature. Stab wounds, eyes stapled opened, and fingers missing, but this was different.
Shelby’s fingers from each hand had been carefully placed on the bedside table. She had countless stab wounds, but it appeared she had been assaulted by more than just a knife. She had several small circular puncture wounds strewn across her body. I wasn’t sure what could have caused them. Her body had been cut into three pieces, but not the same way as the previous murder. The previous body was cut into three pieces, but the cuts were clean. These cuts were jagged and crooked. It looked to me like she had been sawed apart there in her bed.
Nothing had been taken, but another message had been left behind. Above her bed on the wall, no doubt written in her blood, were the words: DO I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION NOW LIEUTENANT? This was why I had been called down here. This wasn’t random. Shelby wasn’t a victim of opportunity. This was planned and executed with extreme precision. I was fighting off several emotions as I tried to continue studying the crime scene.
I was able to investigate her body until I got to her face. I was only able to get a glimpse. I quickly turned and ran from the room across the hall to the bathroom. I dropped onto my knees in front of the toilet and began puking violently. After I finished, I stayed in my position as the tears fell into the bowl and onto the floor. Thirty years on the force and I couldn’t remember crying a single time. Then again, I had never dealt with anything like this. This was personal and this was about me. It had nothing to do with Shelby. She had been used to get my attention. Slowly, but surly my sorrow began turning into rage.
When I left the bathroom and walked down the hall back toward the living room, the anger was radiating through me like lightning causing my frame to shake. I found my team still standing in the living room exchanging notes of what each had done. They noticed me coming and stopped their conversations. They all looked at me with pity, feeling sorry for me, but that was not how this was going to go.
“What the fuck are you all just standing around for?” I asked bluntly.
“Boss…are you alright?” Hall asked.
“No, I’m not alright. We have a fourth victim in that room whose family is going to want some answers and I have a team of detectives standing around shooting the shit.”
“We just thought—”
“I don’t give a damn what you thought. This has gone on long enough; it’s time to catch this cocksucker. You all know what you need to do, now go do it!”
I left the room without another word. I walked out of the apartment complex and toward my car when a group of reporters from the local news outlet met me near the sidewalk. I recognized several of them and that meant, that retired or not, they recognized me.
“Detective! Detective! Any comment on the victim?” one yelled.
“Are you coming out of retirement to hunt the killer?” another asked.
“Is it the same killer from those abductions!?” a third shrieked.
I was about to give them the typical “no comment” answer when my background kicked in. I knew this guy. I had dealt with this type of personality before. He was taunting me, bragging to me about what he had done. When I didn’t give him the attention he wanted, he went a step further and made it too personal for me to resist. If I went on refusing to give him the attention he wanted, a lot more people would die. If I gave it to him, I would be engaging in his game. I stopped and turned to the closest camera.
“I have no doubts that this is the same killer from the murders several months ago. I have no comments regarding the victim but I do have a message for the person who killed her,” I looked straight into the lens and let my eyes go cold. “You wanted my attention. Now you have it.”
I got into the Jeep and peeled away from the scene. My head was spinning. Shelby was dead, and worse, she had obviously been tortured for hours and hours. It was my fault. She had always told me that one of the reasons that she was drawn to me was because I was a cop. Because she felt safe when she was with me. The truth was, if she had never met me she would still be alive. She would still be living her life, bringing light and happiness to the people around her.
Instead, her separated, mutilated body was being dusted for fingerprints and examined for clues on the killer. She would never smile or laugh again, and it was all because I’d walked away. Because I chose to ignore this killer. One more case. That is all it would have taken and everything would be fine. Shelby would still be alive. Everything in life happens for a reason, because of the choices we make. I made the choice, and this was the result. Now it was time to make another one.
I drove up and onto the sidewalk in front of the precinct, skidding to a stop, I left the Jeep parked illegally out front. I stormed into the lobby and it was clear that the news had traveled at roughly the speed of light. From all around I received concerned looks and pitiful glances. I ignored every single one. I walked briskly to the back of the building and down the hallway of offices toward the office at the very end. The office of Captain Neil Connors. I forced the door
open aggressively causing Neil to jump subtly in his computer chair.
“Jesus Christ!” He yelped as his focus was ripped from his screen. “Norris? Damn it, you almost gave me a heart attack barging in here like that! You’re lucky I didn’t pull my weapon!”
“I want back in Captain,” I said directly.
“Want back into what?” he was clearly confused by my statement.
“I want back into the murder investigation.” As I said it, I could see it start to click in his eyes and I could see that he didn’t like what he was hearing.
“Norris…look I’m sorry about the girl. I know you two were…involved, but that doesn’t justify you busting your way back into the job or the investigation, as a matter of fact, it deters it more than anything. It is a total conflict of interest. Plus you’re retired. I can’t just say poof, here’s your badge back go get um. It doesn’t work that way.”
“Don’t give me that bull shit Neil! I’ve done this for thirty years. I worked plenty of cases where I wanted to walk up to a killer and blow their fucking head off, that’s not what this is about. This guy wants me! Not the department, and not the team. This is personal for him.”
“See! Right there, already your judgment is clouded and you aren’t thinking clearly.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You said guy and him. How do you know it’s a man? You’re jumping to conclusions and that’s not how we work. You’re too close.”
“I’m not jumping to any conclusions. I understand the behavior of these people and I can read a crime scene like a fucking children’s book. I’m not assuming it is a man Captain, I know it’s a man.”
“How could you possibly know that? You’re grabbing at straws! There is nothing here that makes you being a part of this okay.”
“Shelby’s body had bruising all over it. Her face was beaten so badly I hardly recognized her. So badly I had to look away and I have seen a lot of horrific shit. Statistically, even a very angry woman wouldn’t resort to using her hands in this way. Women are naturally more hesitant, which is why more often than not we see them use a gun over any other weapon and rarely do we see them use their bare hands.” I let very little time pass before I continued. “The eyes are stapled open; the killer wants or needs their victim to see them in the act. Women are more remorseful. They would more likely turn the victim away and in most cases we even see family portraits placed face-down. Female killers don’t need or want an audience.”
Captain Connors was silent and listening intently as if I was a professor giving a lecture.
“Our killer is a man, he is angry, and he wants me to play his game. If I don’t, a lot more people are going to die and he will not stop until I play,” I finished.
“Okay, you’ve made your case, but why you? Why target a detective who is getting ready to hang up the holster?”
“I don’t know. We can’t know. Only he knows, but it is very clear that it is important to him that I am a part of this and if I don’t go along with it, he may go on a rampage. At least if I’m involved, it might buy us a little more time to catch him before anyone else ends up like…” I couldn’t say her name again without the images flooding back into my mind.
Captain sat thoughtfully as he carefully considered everything that had been said. “Okay, look. I can’t argue with anything you have said, but even with all of that being true, I cannot just reactivate you in the force. There is a process, it takes time and it takes approval and I don’t know for sure that I can get that,” he said.
“You don’t have to reactivate me. You can hire me in as a consultant. You don’t need approval for that, you are bringing in someone who has expertise that can help with the investigation,” I answered.
He pondered the option. “Fine…fine, but this is Hunt’s lead. You are only there to help, but stay out of their way otherwise. And, as a reminder, when we catch this bastard, you can’t be on site. You’re a civilian now, and we can’t put a civilian in the line of fire.”
“When we catch him, it won’t matter anymore. It will be over, and that is all any of us want.”
“Alright. Hook up with Hunt and the team and get to work, I want this closed up quickly.”
“I have one more request Captain,” I said.
“What is it?”
Chapter 12: Patience is a Virtue
The only reason I pay for cable is for the news. I had it installed right before the first murder and honestly, I was beginning to obsess over it. The news stories about the murders had died down until this last one, but now things were really exploding. Every single news outlet seemed to be doing round-the-clock coverage on Norris’s little hottie. During my evenings, I had fallen into a pretty steady routine that ended with me clicking on the television to check up on the latest.
It had been a few days since the girlfriend had been discovered, and to my delight, I turned on the TV to be met by the picture of Detective Norris on the screen holding back his tears. I changed my mind about him in that moment—he would be a delight to torture. I had seen this clip before, the one where he looks into the camera and tells me that I have his attention. Well it was about time. All I had to do was beat a girl to death and saw her into pieces to get the time of day from him. After the clip, however, I saw something brand new.
Breaking news ran across the screen before it showed a podium set up in some conference room downtown. A press conference? The police Captain, Neil Connors, stepped behind the podium and the noise from the crowd intensified as they shouted questions at him. They pushed and shoved, working their way closer to the podium like a pack of wolves fighting over a carcass. As the Captain raised his hand as if about to speak, the crowd hushed.
“The Helena Police Department has always made it a point to be transparent with the public and the ongoing murder investigations will be no different,” Captain Connors spoke as if he had rehearsed in front of a mirror at home. “You have all, no doubt, already heard about the most recent killing in a local apartment complex. I have no further comments on that murder.” He lowered his head as onlookers chattered. “However, there has been a new development in the case.”
The crowd silenced once again.
“Along with the team of detectives who were assigned to this case,” he continued, “the department has decided to bring in an outside consultant to assist with the investigation, former Detective of the Helena Police Department, Casey Norris.”
The noise from the reporters detonated as he finished his sentence.
Then I watched as Norris shifted his hips and meandered behind the podium.
“Alright, everyone quiet down, this is important,” he started, “I am going to report what we know about this killer so far and it is our hope that someone out there will match some of these traits up to someone they know. The person we are looking for is a male, most likely between twenty-five and thirty-five years old. He will have a job during the day where he demands respect and attention.”
I watched as he gave the proverbial profile. He thought he was so smart.
“He will likely avoid social outings or gatherings of any kind. He could be a neighbor; if that is the case, you have probably never seen him outside. He stays inside and also comes and goes at odd hours. He may have a barn or outbuilding on his property and likely drives a late-model truck or SUV. This man has an irrational need to be the center of attention and would be angered easily if he is denied it. If any of this brings anyone that you know to mind, please call the station and report it as soon as possible. Do not attempt to confront this man alone we believe he is always armed and is extremely dangerous.” Norris walked off the stage without another word.
I did it.
I got him to come out of retirement to chase me. All it took was killing one blonde? It was times like this when I was grateful that I had never been able to feel. I had never been a
ble to love. Love makes people do crazy things. I could have killed him any time I wanted to, but instead, I chose to play with him. And I did that because I knew I could. I knew he couldn’t resist, and he is weak—controlled by his emotions and that is why in the end, the outcome will be the same.
It aroused me. It was as if each woman had an expiration date that I controlled. It was power, and I could lead the investigation in any direction I chose. The police only knew what I wanted them to know, and now, I was in control of him. He was going to play my game, and, whether he knew it or not, he was going to play by my rules. He thought Shelby was as bad as it was going to get, but he had no idea.
He actually thought that I was going to ease up now that I got him to participate, but it was just the opposite. For now, I was content with letting him believe I was going back to my normal ways. I had already taken another girl for the occasion and her time was just about up. I stood from the couch and walked into the kitchen. The microwave dinner I had prepared no longer appealed to me, though. I had something much different on my mind now, and a much larger appetite.
My body ached for the release. This oscillating sensation of gripping something only to release it on my command. When I had a life that I could end at any moment, it was thrilling and everything I craved. I had started to think about it during the press conference, but now it overwhelmed me. My fingertips tingled with the need to release and whether it was the perfect time or not, I needed it. Patience was a virtue that I had yet to master, so I opened the door to the basement and stomped down the stairs.
One of the few pleasures in my life was the squeal that came with each step into the basement. The squeal from the sweet innocent girl who was chained up waiting to die. This time, it was a red-headed girl I had found jogging alone at Mount Helena Park. I had originally just gone there to window shop, but a petite girl jogging alone just before dusk with no one else around…how could I resist? She was only carrying her ID, and from it I learned that I had taken Maggie Wilson.
