Burdened By Guilt

by Michiko Katsu

A beam of light from behind the intruder crept across the floor and inched up the bed. She watched it crawl along her toes, up her thighs and slither over her chest. She closed her eyes but when the beam crossed over them her natural reaction squeezed them tightly together giving her consciousness away.

  “Doctor Kelly?” She heard whispered from next to the bed. “Doctor Kelly?”

  She opened her eyes and with the assistance of the flashlight now pointed next to his face she looked into the baby, blue eyes of Kevin McKay.

  “Doctor Kelly?” Kevin asked again. She watched as the flashlight beam ran down her body then returned to her face.

  Her eyes bulged as she watched him reach for something attached to his belt. Fearing the end she swallowed hard just as movement from the doorway caught her eye. She tried to scream only to flinch as the deafening thunder of gunfire cut through the silence. Kevin’s body hit the floor with a dull thud. Jill’s silhouette in the open doorway smoked as the smell of sulfur filled the room.

  Jill flipped on the lights, stared at Suzanne then down at Kevin. She smiled with satisfaction as Kevin lay, a small pool of blood forming beneath him.

  .

  Chapter 57

  Kevin chewed his fingernails after he finished his call with Mike. He had debated telling him Stanford's neighbor called telling him the daughter was back at the house but resisted. After everything that happened he wasn’t sure it was a good idea. He wanted to help but sharing information might only make things worse. He believed the only way to help Mike was to solve the case. The problem was he needed Mike to do that very thing.

  He had two helpful pieces of information but struggled with which, if either, he should share. Settling on the lowest risk for both of them, he told him about the tire lot. It was remote and probably empty that time of night and since they wouldn’t have a warrant they could just look around. What could it hurt if Mike was there? The likelihood of anyone finding out was slim.

  The house, however, was a different story. No doubt the nosey neighbor would see them and if they were lucky the daughter would still be inside. There was no way around Lieutenant Smythe or Daily finding out Mike went with him thereby potentially compromising the entire case and both of their careers. So, he decided to leave out the part about the house. Hopefully by the time he met Mike he would have a beneficial statement from the girl.

  He pulled up in front of Stanford’s house twenty minutes after he hung up with Mike. The sun ended its early descent as the winter months cut the hours of sunlight more and more with each passing day. Thick clouds moved quickly through the sky impeding any residual light from the fading sun or rising moon putting the house in ever-changing shadows of darkness, an empty shell of waste and decline.

  He grabbed his notebook and got out of the car. Staring up at the darkness of the house left him uneasy. Something didn’t feel right but he couldn’t put a finger on it. He reached inside his jacket to check his gun as he walked around to the back of the car and popped the trunk. Inside he filtered through the well stocked supplies until he found the black 6-D Maglite. He grabbed a few more things from his first aid kit, closed the trunk and headed toward the front of the house.

  The closer he got the more his muscles tensed. This was his first solo location visit and he assigned his nervousness to lack of experience. There was no reason for concern. It was a standard interview. Nothing more, nothing less. He shook his head. Just keep you head on straight and you’ll be fine.

  Still unnerved, he decided to take a quick look around hoping it would make him feel better. He squatted down on the driveway and touched the dried mud leading into the garage. Mud? In Phoenix? It hadn’t rained for weeks. The trace left a solid imprint of the tread without any overlay. He assumed that meant she was still inside.

  A cinder block held open the gate leading to the backyard, the overgrowth of weeds intertwined the two gaps making it almost invisible on first inspection. The backyard was as poorly kept as its entrance with sporadic but massive clusters of weeds and overgrown softscape. The putrid black-green water and fungus of the unkempt swimming pool alluded to the mosquito breeding ground within. Dead trees, degradable and non-degradable garbage rounded out the scene of what was, so many years ago, a large and well-designed playground and entertainment area.

  Not seeing anything to indicate if the girl was still inside he backtracked through the gate, took a quick look on the other side then made his way to the front door. The interior remained dark and the remainder of sunlight was now only a memory as he stood outside contemplating his options.

  Kevin knocked on the door only to have it open under the pressure. His fears ratcheted back up and he withdrew his gun as he pushed his back against the frame. He looked over at his car then back to the open doorway. It was too late to turn back now. He took a deep breath, turned on his flashlight and went inside. He called out a few times but no one responded.

  The downstairs maze of garbage made it difficult to traverse without making noise. Only the stench infused carpet provided any sound dilution as he trekked from one room to the next. Making his way up the stairs he now stood at the end of the hallway. Slowly he opened the door and cringed at the creaking and groaning it gave in response to his intrusion. He ducked his head into the open doorway initially only seeing the pink bed on the floor but in the quiet he sensed a presence and he strained to hear.

  He raised the flashlight to the bed praying she was asleep. Even if she was friendly, finding a strange man in her bedroom could only spell trouble for him but it was excruciating to react in slow motion with the feeling of aggression and anger so palpable in the room.

  He brushed the beam quickly over where the face should be hoping the light wouldn't wake her. But she flinched. Her eyelids moved. He would swear to it. Wait. The face was familiar. He had seen it before.

  He passed the beam back over her face when he realized it was Doctor Kelly. What the hell is she doing there? He didn't give himself time to answer. He knew all about the warrant for her arrest. She was the reason for Mike’s suspension and she lay right in front of him, asleep on the bed. He couldn't believe his luck.

  “Doctor Kelly?” He asked in amazement.

  The idea of capturing Doctor Kelly sent chills down his spine. Mike would not only be impressed but maybe even proud. An overwhelming sense of satisfaction came over him as he thought about the accolades associated with capturing a serial killer.

  “Doctor Kelly?” He asked again.

  Then her eyes opened. He jumped. She looked directly at him but didn't move. Her eyes. They were scared. They weren't the eyes of a multiple murder. But she was. She had to be. This was a trick. It had to be. He was young and easily manipulated and she was manipulating him. Yes, she was trying to manipulate him. Just like she had with Mike.

  “Doctor Kelly,” he said more sternly.

  He reached to his belt for the handcuffs snapped in their case when red, hot fire tore through his shoulder twisting him backward. He crashed to the floor landing on his side and then fell forward. His body was on fire. His flesh felt flayed from the bone, tearing through the muscle and sinew down to his very core. He couldn't breathe.

  The light turned on and the last thing he remembered was a slight almost indiscernible huff.

  Then everything went black.

  Chapter 58

  Mike parked on the street down from Stanfield’s and got out grateful for the deserted neighborhood. His earlier confidence waned during the drive and he felt unsure of his conclusions until he saw Kevin’s car parked out front. He drove by two more times before deciding procrastination wasn’t going to make this any easier. The odds were good he was already too late.

  The music coming from Stanford’s house blared like a college dorm after mid-terms. He could see the windows shaking with each drum of base as the song tortured the structure for holding in its power. He peered over the wall from the neighbor’s back yard but saw no indication anyone had been back there in years.


  Jill had already proven very smart and more importantly, patient. Underestimating her fortitude would prove to be his misfortune. But she had to be feeling an arrogant satisfaction now that she had Suzanne and Mike hoped he could exploit that if she lowered her guard with the completion of her objectives.

  Unaware of the sensors he’d tripped, he hoisted himself over the wall and slowly moved along the side of the house ducking as he passed the only window. When he reached the backyard he crouched down and continued forward until he reached the sliding glass door.

  He peeked through the dirty glass but couldn’t see any movement. Pulling out his gun he cautiously pushed the door open. As he walked through the family room to the front of the house he looked around the living area where he had been only two days earlier. The stench and discarded garbage seemed unmoved cloying at his skin and nostrils.

  The drumming of the music tormented Mike complicating his ability to think. He looked through the entire house but found nothing. If they weren’t there he had no idea where else to look. This was his only option. He dropped his hands and closed his eyes. Only the garage remained unchecked. The implication left him cold.

  He waited in the laundry room before opening the door as he recalled the details of the layout and contents. Inside were two small concrete steps and then a collection of boxes, trash, unused lawn care equipment and miscellaneous household items. If her car was parked inside, there wouldn't be any room for him to move and plenty of places for her to hide. Going in through the only access door wasn’t smart. There had to be another, less obvious way.

  He backed out of the small room still aware of making noise even though the music blared. As much as he wanted to turn it off it would be a sure indication of his presence, a fact he hoped was still unknown even though he was yet to find anyone.

  The music stopped.

  He froze. His ears rang.

  He turned his head. Was that movement? Gun raised, he disengaged the safety.

  He heard it again but couldn't place it. He shoved his finger in the canal and shook it. A shushing sound like something being dragged came again but couldn’t tell if that was the actual sound or just his eardrums trying to regain some normalcy.

  He waited. Nothing.

  He looked back toward the hallway hiding the garage door. He let out his breath and walked toward the stereo. His stomach tightened into knots as the bouncing of the red and green on the equalizer came into view. Shit.

  Behind him the unmistakable wham of a door slamming shut spun him toward the garage. He threw himself against the wall and waited. Nothing. Strangling the hand grip he scrunched down before looking around the corner.

  His head jerked back as he heard the upstairs door creak open followed by more shushing. He was smack in the middle of both doors. He took a deep breath as an overwhelming feeling of finality overtook him. Someone wasn't going to get out of this house alive and if it was him, he wasn’t going to make it easy.

  He leaned forward. Looked left. Looked Right.

  NOW!

  An explosion of bullets came from both directions catching him in the crossfire. Drywall exploded into bloated swells of white smoke as wood splintered and glass shattered with escaping projectiles. A spray of red erupted from Mike’s chest and back like geysers as bullets ripped through his torso pushing and pulling him, twisting his body into a mass of burning flesh.

  The horizon elevated as he dropped to the floor, both arms crushed beneath him. No thoughts passed through his mind, no memories or visions. Just the stench of decay as the dust filled morning light disappeared into an empty, black hole.

  Chapter 59

  "Detective? Detective Michael Anderson. Can you hear me? You said he woke up last night correct?"

  “Yes doctor.”

  “Did he say anything to you?”

  “He asked for water but that was it.”

  "Detective? Can you open your eyes, Detective?"

  Mike obeyed, his eyes peeling apart as if vacuum sealed. Blurred and bright his surroundings amassed in amorphous shapes, he followed the sounds of the man’s voice calling his name.

  "Well," the doctor said standing up straight, elongating is lanky frame. "Welcome back to the living Detective. I was beginning to wonder if we were going to lose you."

  Mike coughed and the middle aged, female nurse brought him a plastic cup of water with a straw.

  "How are you feeling today?" The doctor asked as he took notes on his clipboard. "In any pain, blurred vision, burning? Anything like that?"

  Mike drank until the cup was empty. He looked at her and rolled his hand for more.

  "Hold on Detective," the doctor said. "Pace yourself. I know you're thirsty and that's expected but we don't want you throwing up. Nurse Ratchet will bring you some more later."

  Mike turned his head to the woman.

  "Yeah, yeah, I know. Believe it or not that is my real name. I couldn't have picked the worst profession, eh? Damn Ken Kesey." She let out a loud guffaw and tapped him on the shoulder.

  The doctor continued with a barrage of questions Mike had difficulty answering.

  What’s your name? You called me Detective.

  Do you remember how you got here? Where’s here?

  Can you remember what happened? When?

  The details eluded him. All he knew was he was in a hospital and his entire torso hurt like he’d been hit by a car. Was I hit by a car? No, I was shot. In that house. Right?

  "Alright then, I'm glad to see you're awake. I'll check back in with you tomorrow." He turned and left the room, the nurse in step behind him.

  Mike wondered why the doctor never looked directly at him. He self-consciously lifted his hand to feel his face but everything felt normal.

  “Don’t bother.” Mike heard from the door. “You’re still as ugly as ever.”

  Mike looked over to see Madison standing in the doorway.

  "How are you feeling?" Madison asked as he walked into the room and took a seat on the window bench.

  "Ok," Mike said. "Not sure what's going on to tell you the truth."

  "You don't remember what happened?"

  "It's coming back to me in pieces but I can't quite put them together."

  "You were shot for one. But I'm guessing you figured that part out." He paused. "You did it."

  Mike arched a brow. "Did what?"

  "Saved the day, killed the bad guy, rode in on your white horse. Pick your cliché. You're a hero right about now…along with your partner."

  Partner? Kevin? Mike squinted. For some reason he thought Kevin was dead but he could see him standing on the stairs in Jill's house, his entire front covered in blood and holding a gun. It was so surreal he thought it was just a dream.

  "Partner? Who? Kevin?" Mike closed his eyes. “What? Is he dead? Is he…how is he?”

  "He's fine,” Madison smiled. “I'm sure he'll be by soon enough once he finds out you’re awake."

  Mike brought his hand up to his brow. "Cap? What happened?”

  Madison lifted both hands then settled them on his thighs. "Well, believe it or not Kevin saved your life. He saved your life and Doctor Kelly's. Apparently he was shot as well but being the Boy Scout that he is, he had some dressing and coagulant on him. God only knows why."

  Mike let out a small laugh then winced. For the first time he fully appreciated Kevin's quirky preparedness. He was sure Kevin did too at that point.

  Madison continued. "Jill shot you and he shot her.”

  “Jill?”

  “Yep. She had left him for dead in the upstairs closet. Fortunately for you he wasn't. He said a loud bang woke him up and he dragged himself out of the closet to the stairs. He was standing on the stairs when she shot you. He shot back and now here we are. Only one dead body and fortunately it was the bad guy…or girl in this case."

  "And Suzanne?" He had to ask.

  Madison didn't flinch. "She's fine. Found her bound and gagged in the trunk of the car. No doubt headed for her death if
you hadn't shown up."

  Mike looked away from Madison and closed his eyes.

  "I have a few questions for you if you're up to it?" Madison asked.

  Mike looked back over at him and nodded his head.

  "How did you know they were at the house?"

  "The energy drink. Da…someone told me that it was spilled on Rudy’s body and he never drank the stuff or let his kids drink it. I saw cans of it all over the house when Kevin and I were there previously. I wasn't sure if anyone was there but it was my only option."

  "And Jill? How did you figure out it was Jill?"

  "Black nail polish. Da…it was found on Rudy's collar. I remember seeing her with chipped black nail polish at the first crime scene. Interestingly enough I had warned her about it from a contamination perspective. Funny that it turned out to be what did her in, at least in my eyes. I was told Suzanne's daughter was killed in a car accident but after hearing about the nail polish I asked about any missing friends around the same time. Turns out one of her friends was reported missing around the same time she was killed. I just guessed the friend was the one in the car when it burned up instead of the daughter."

  "But I'm still not sure how that got you to Jill. I can see the nail polish but the other is a stretch."

  "I was grasping at straws. Under the circumstances I was willing to shoot at anything.”

  Madison folded his hands in his lap.

  Mike continued. “As a criminalist on the cases she had access to the crime scenes and all the evidence, both on the three murders and my old cases. She was the one who found out the identities of the two men because she knew people and she was also the one who found Suzanne's fingerprints on the duct tape at the first scene. That one took me a minute until I realized the way she described the location of the fingerprint on the duct tape would have been left by a right-handed person. Suzanne is left-handed. It was a safe bet Jill probably didn't even think about that. So, how else would Suzanne's fingerprints get on a piece of evidence incorrectly? It had to be Jill. And the only reason why is to set her up. There were just too many coincidences.”