Crushed

by Kate Watterson

  Mrs. Nichols’ gaze was accusatory. “What are these?” She tossed a stack of pictures on the coffee table.

  Ellie looked at the top several and reminded herself she was a police officer and to hold steady. “I don’t know.”

  “He has more naked pictures of you. I found them yesterday after he left the receipt for the roses in his pocket. I was doing the laundry and found the bill and realized he was lying to me because he bought the flowers. So, yes, I’m not going to deny it. I went looking around. The bottom of a sock drawer really showed me quite a lot. Of you.”

  This didn’t get better, it just got worse and worse. Ellie was the one who had to stand and gather her breath to look into angry eyes, when she was the one who was the injured party. They both were victims if Nichols was guilty. “I’ll be concise. Those pictures were taken without my consent and there is no affair. A crime scene crew is going to arrive any minute to sweep my home for a hidden camera, and I wish I could promise that will be the end of it, but I can’t. We are now officially investigating him.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Does it look for a minute like I’m posing for those pictures? Is the camera shot at eye level, or maybe taken from above?”

  “You had to be posing. How else would he have them?”

  “Think it over.” Ellie had to balance her job and her personal sense of outrage. “You wouldn’t be standing in front of me if you didn’t think he was capable of violating your trust.”

  Mrs. Nichols’ voice went from angry to small. Her hands dropped from being planted on her hips to limp at her sides. “Oh God.” All the color left her face and she dropped her head. “What else did he do?”

  It would be unfortunate to mention the possible murder charges at this crucial moment. This new development was starting to win her over to the theory that Nichols was responsible for a lot more than buying some flowers, and this woman might be able to help; maybe not in court, but with the investigation. Ellie couldn’t whitewash it. “He’s in big trouble. At the very least breaking and entering, plus the varying charges that go along with voyeurism and that I can launch a civil suit against him as well. He’s destroyed personal property, and we think we can prove your husband attacked and injured a police officer. Other crimes might also be involved.”

  Alissa Nichols asked on a whisper, “Like what? Murder? I found a lot more than just those pictures. Some driver’s licenses. I watch the news … I recognized the names. Why would he have those?”

  Evidence. At last. It was the one thing they really lacked. “Please tell me you kept them.” Ellie couldn’t help it. “If you ever thought murder was possible, why wouldn’t you say something?”

  “You have to ask me that?” The young woman turned away, sobbing. “We have two children! I can’t have married a monster.”

  That was the understatement of the year. “I’m here, a homicide detective, right next door.”

  “If he killed me, they’d be left with him. I couldn’t confront him.”

  “What about him makes you so afraid?” Ellie tried out her best Lukens impersonation, but it wasn’t her area. “Has he hurt you?”

  “He’s not stable.”

  An answer, but a nonanswer.

  During all of this Jason stayed quiet, leaning against the living room wall. At least he was right there. “Please answer Detective MacIntosh, ma’am. Has he?”

  If she had an answer to the question that would help them, they didn’t get a chance to hear it.

  “Hello.” Nichols strolled in at that moment, interrupting, just absolutely walking in the back door without permission. Ellie wasn’t armed either, because she’d just barely managed to finish dressing before her first visitor arrived. “Why do I have the feeling I should be part of this discussion? By the way, the two officers outside won’t be joining us.”

  Being caught unaware was the theme of this investigation, at least for her.

  Their visitor looked absurdly normal in pleated tan slacks and a pressed pale blue shirt, his hair neatly combed. But there were white lines of anger around his mouth.

  The new arrival’s wife was so pale now she looked like she would fall on the floor. “Why? What did you do to them? Why are you home so early and why would you just come in here and not knock?”

  “Early release day for standardized testing. I saw you walking over here. Where are the kids? More important, are those even my kids? I’ve always wondered. They sure as hell don’t look like me.” His voice was hard and he seemed to completely disregard that Detective Jason Santiago was even in the room. Ellie wasn’t positive it even registered, but on the other hand, she was afraid it did. They’d been underestimating this man all along, both his intelligence and his deranged behavior.

  Maybe they were hitting pay dirt all of a sudden, but Ellie wasn’t sure it was good to be part of the equation. Still she edged closer to Alissa. “Let her go. She’s not part of this.”

  Nichols ignored her. “You know, Alissa, I’ve forgiven all your affairs, I think you can allow me mine.”

  Jason said harshly, “Listen—”

  Ellie had to get control of the situation somehow. “We are not having an affair.”

  He rebuffed that statement in a soft and very chilling voice, “Oh yes, we are. It might not be physical yet, but it will be.”

  Her gun was on the dresser in her bedroom. All she needed was a chance to get there.

  Jason moved forward, his tone lethal. “Is that a physical threat of some sort, Mr. Nichols?”

  “It’s a promise.”

  “You’re out of your mind,” Alissa said in a choked voice, showing some true backbone. “What have you done? I knew after I thought about it that the smoke bomb was you, but I couldn’t think of a single reason why. I guess I should be happy you didn’t just kill us all to get her attention.”

  “Not too late.”

  Three things happened at once. Nichols lunged toward his wife, Ellie was ready to bolt for the bedroom to get her weapon, and Santiago was right there. All he said was, “Oh hell, I’ve been waiting for this.”

  And then he went for it.

  Typical Santiago style. He tackled Nichols about two seconds before the man could get his hands on his wife and Ellie had her opportunity, so while they were wrestling around her living room floor, she ran to get her gun, yelling frantically at a paralyzed Alissa Nichols, “Get outside. Get outside. Run!”

  If there was one thing she didn’t want it was a hysterical wife around to add to the melee so she couldn’t get off a shot if necessary.

  Luckily for her, Santiago had brawled a time or two. It didn’t surprise her he’d won the fight, because she’d seen him in action before, but she expected that picture sent to Metzger had motivated some interesting emotions Georgia would have to help him sort out. When she rushed back out, weapon drawn, Jason was already on his feet, blood running from his nose, but he wasn’t the one unconscious. Nichols wasn’t going anywhere soon, but at least it seemed like he was still breathing.

  She lowered her weapon.

  Jason wiped the blood off his upper lip with the back of his hand. “He really has pissed me off lately. I could have shot him, but she was standing between me and him. This was far more satisfying.”

  “I can tell.” At least her heart rate was already slowing. Nichols was also bleeding all over the floor and a rug she really liked that would probably never be the same.

  “Ah man, I can see another IA investigation for excessive force in my future.” Santiago went over to the kitchen and wet a paper towel and ran it over his face. “I hate that kind of thing. We need to go check on the surveillance team.”

  Someone was pounding on the front door. Ellie said, “I think his wife might back you up. I’m just hoping out of gratitude she’ll give me those pictures so I can burn them so they aren’t evidence.”

  “Don’t do that, I’d like to have them.”

  “Dream on, cowboy.”

  Chapter 30


  “I’m not going to lie, I’ve talked to the district attorney and this is going to be one of those trials where they have to turn people away.” Metzger was as frank as always. “It will be a media zoo. Tell me about the Parkview connection.”

  “Nichols went there and his kids go there now.” Ellie had spent hours and hours trying to figure it out. “I’ve consulted with Dr. Lukens, and she speculates that he had some bad experience there, maybe bullying that made him distrustful and insecure. Murder is a show of power, and he was taking revenge on people he associated with not protecting him. His first victim was maybe random. She might have just reminded him of someone. The same with the young man he hung … Lukens thinks they ran into each other and there was a memory flash that also reminded him of someone and he decided to kill him. The others were people he knew as a child.”

  Santiago spoke up. “The staff of the school where he works was not as surprised as we thought by a possible murder charge. He’s a classic sociopath. One teacher told us that when he was caught eating the chicken salad she’d brought for lunch, he didn’t even really apologize and just ate the rest of it in front of her.”

  “A stolen sandwich isn’t—”

  “Hold on. When she got home later that day she found someone had strangled her cat and left it on the front porch. I realize it is quite a step from that to murder of a human being, but it still shows a lack of remorse that is consistent with his type of behavior. That’s just a small example. He apparently frequently referred to his wife as a bitch or worse, so his marital problems weren’t a secret. She was—and is—afraid of him.”

  Ellie said, “He made people uncomfortable. Me too, looking back. I never addressed him by his first name. I always kept a distance by calling him Mr. Nichols. I certainly called his wife Alissa. We are taught as officers to address people in a proper fashion, and he never invited me to do otherwise, even though we were neighbors.”

  Metzger rubbed his jaw. “Without Mrs. Nichols you wouldn’t have a viable case. Luckily for you both, she seems to be more than ready to talk. Finding the hidden camera helps. It doesn’t prove anything, but it doesn’t hurt.”

  “We have enough eyewitnesses that we can make it stick.” Jason settled his hands on his knees. “The driver’s licenses alone will put him in jail for life.”

  “Internal Affairs wants me to suspend you for excessive force,” Metzger said.

  Ellie had seen that one coming, but so had he. “Sir, you have my report—”

  “I do. Be quiet.”

  Santiago didn’t blink. “Fine, I know I went for him hard. In my defense, I think it can be confirmed he had just threatened to kill his wife because Ellie and I both heard him say it. I saw him moving toward her. You were once a patrol officer. Time to choose exists. She was in danger. Really, what would you do? Let him kill her?”

  Metzger didn’t argue. “I’ll put that in the paperwork with everything else in an effort to support that you went overboard but had adequate motivation. I think all three of us here know you had some personal motivation as well.”

  “He threatened Ellie in a very personal and sexual way right in front of me. What would you do?”

  Metzger pressed his fingers to his forehead. “I see the argument, Santiago, I just don’t want to participate in it. You could have just cuffed him. Broken nose? Fractured jaw?”

  “I wasn’t the only one in that fight. He went for me too. Do you know how many people he’s killed? Ask his wife. He was going to strangle her. He said it.”

  “Yes. Believe it or not, I read every single report.”

  Oh, here it came. Ellie had been more than dreading this moment. “Sir, about that picture he sent you.”

  What was she even going to say? It was altered but damning.

  Metzger solved the dilemma in an unexpected way by stopping her. “What picture?” He just looked bland.

  “Well, I’d really prefer if it wasn’t admitted into evidence.”

  “Detective MacIntosh, I have no idea even remotely what you are talking about.” He leaned forward deliberately. “Care to clarify?”

  Ellie had to admit she blinked, but in a second Jason grabbed her arm and pulled her from her chair. “No, she doesn’t. Are we all done here, Chief?”

  “Done. You are officially suspended with pay until there is a decision made about your conduct, Detective Santiago, and this better be the last time I have to stick up for you.”

  Being dragged out into the hallway wasn’t fun, and she yanked her arm free as soon as possible. “Was that necessary?”

  He looked unrepentant. “Yes. I know you. You might have clarified, and he didn’t want you to say another word about it. Look, if he’s choosing to overlook it, let’s take it as a gift. We both just dodged a bullet.”

  She really didn’t think they had. Metzger wasn’t their only problem. “You just got suspended.” The press, IA, her family being disrupted—she wasn’t going to look at the condo the same ever again—there was a long casualty list.

  “With pay, which means he thinks I’ll be cleared. I sure should be. I know I wasn’t gentle, but he was a lot worse with his victims and he tried to give as good as he got. I was just more ticked off.”

  “I need to get away now that he’s in custody,” she told him impulsively. “How about that fishing trip in say … an hour? I have some calls to make, letting the families know we got him. The trial will be painful, but they deserve to know right away where we stand. I have to talk to Jody too.”

  * * *

  “So where are we going?” Jason checked the straps on the carrier, but this was not his area of expertise so he wasn’t insulted when Ellie checked them again as if she knew what she was doing. He could load a tank onto a transport ship, but buckling down a canoe was not something he’d done before.

  “Glen Lake. Close by and pretty deep, so there are some big fish in there, and it has public access since it isn’t entirely private, but as far as I can tell, it isn’t used much. I prefer the experience to be as solitary as possible.”

  “I suppose I can see that.”

  The paddles and poles went into the back of the car, and while he was still amused by her determination, he was willing to fly with Ellie’s desire to take him fishing. He hadn’t had that growing up, so he just wasn’t used to it. The closest he’d come was when his math teacher, who was also the football coach, had asked if he’d ever thought about trying out for the team. He hadn’t. He did think it over, and went ahead and did it. Surprise, surprise, he’d made it.

  Yes, he’d screwed it up, but hell, he’d been seventeen with virtually no guidance his entire life. It had been good while it lasted; he’d been the star running back. It had also given him some insight on discipline and teamwork.

  Lesson learned.

  He’d even voluntarily called his mother to thank her for their dinner together. She had been surprised, but effusive.

  Now that was real progress.

  The lake was as pretty as promised, the banks crowded with trees, and a great blue heron took off as they arrived, winging past like a low-flying plane. Ellie commented, “They come back pretty early. You can see them as soon as there’s clear water.” She added with a straight face as she parked the car, “That’s about the time the spiders migrate back this way.”

  “Spiders migrate? I’m going to tell you that I’d stand between you and Bigfoot, but I’ll toss you between me and that spider as a shield.”

  “My hero. Bigfoot? Really?”

  “Hey, I’m a believer. I watch TV. If it’s on there, it must be true.” He admired how the length of her lashes sent shadows on her cheekbones, which told him he was hopeless, but he had been for some time.

  “And yet you doubted me about the spiders.”

  “Yeah, well. Stop telling me stuff like that, please.”

  She wore a flannel shirt but it was patterned in pink and light green, and jeans just as faded as his. He was really admiring the view. Ellie went on. “Who
knew you’d be so susceptible? I thought you were a tough soldier turned cop. Have you ever heard of the Gilman? He’s this creature that lives in the lakes around here and supposedly crawls out of the water—”

  “Uh, I think that’s enough, Detective MacIntosh. I appreciate your sense of humor, though. I’m going to skip the Gilman story unless you want to hear some of mine, which are not for the faint of heart.”

  She declined. “No thanks. Isn’t this a beautiful morning?”

  It was. It had been a beautiful evening too, though they’d arrived late. Her house was rustic and there was a lot of wood and stone, but he found he liked it, and it fit the fishing theme of their trip.

  She handed him the paddles. “Hop in.”

  Hop? He would have ended up in the water. Getting into a canoe wasn’t as easy as it sounded. As he carefully stepped in it moved from side to side. He could swim, but he wasn’t good at it. She was also right, the lake was beautiful, but it was dark and deserted.

  “Like this.” She got in much more gracefully and handed him a rod before pointing at a tackle box. “Pick a lure, tie it on, and pay attention. Do this with your reel and cast it into the water and slowly draw it back in. It’s called trolling. I’ll paddle us out.”

  She demonstrated and it didn’t look too hard, but he had the feeling that was a skill that required some practice. Still, the setting was great, the closest freeway noise was about thirty miles away, and other than birds flying here and there, there was no one around.

  He dug into the tackle box and chose this orange lure with black spots that didn’t look remotely like a meal for a fish to him, but someone evidently thought so, and fastened it on.

  First cast was an embarrassment, but the second one was a lot better. On about the fifth try, he actually got a strike.