by Mel Comley
Under the case, Blake wrote Priority: talk to friends of Montgomery and Brockhurst to ID Jane Doe. “Now we know what we need on this. Let’s move on to Case Three, unless anyone has any ideas about John and Elisa Campton?”
“From where I’m sitting, it looks like all of them are connected to Second Chance,” Warden Sams added.
Blake wrote Second Chance in the middle of the board and drew arrows from Case One and Case Two to it. Below that he wrote Case Three. “Here we have Jane Doe One, and Jane Doe Two. What we know for certain is Jane Doe Two had sex with Officer Wade Durrell, who committed suicide after our interview with him.”
Crimshaw studied the board. “And once again, these two girls were kept in the basement of Second Chance and used as prostitutes. Looks like everything we have so far leads to the same place.”
Alex nodded. “And if we add Case Four, the body parts found in Ghent, we’re probably going to find out they were kept in the other two cages at Second Chance.”
Blake wrote the information on the board. “And we still have the missing girl, Candy Granger, we haven’t found yet, as well as Duke MacIntyre and Drucilla Granger.”
Crimshaw chuckled. “Drucilla. Sounds like something out of a horror movie.”
Alex kicked his shin. “Add to that the poor guy with his eyes gouged out.”
The door opened, and Derek Frost walked in. “Sorry to interrupt you guys.” He glanced at the board. “You can add another case. We just found the bodies of Joshua Campton and Selina Sims. Someone hung them from the rafters of an abandoned house in Brooklyn.”
Blake wrote the names on the board and drew an arrow to Second Chance. “Crimshaw is right—it all leads to here. What we don’t know is how.”
“Want my opinion?” Warden Sams asked.
Blake ran a hand through his hair. “We want everyone’s opinion, Warden.”
“Sounds to me like someone is cleaning up their mess, which started with the first three girls. Let’s say these Camptons dumped them in the sewer but weren’t supposed to, so the boss killed them. Then when the Montgomery girl was identified and you went to Second Chance, Sims knew she had to shut down and get rid of the girls before you came back with a warrant. So the girls in Case Three were killed. That leads us to the boss again, who figured Sims or Joshua Campton might talk if the police pushed too hard, so they were killed.”
“Good deduction, Warden, but still doesn’t bring us any closer to the boss,” Blake said.
The warden chuckled. “Step away from the board, Blake. You’re left with two options—MacIntyre and Granger or the Escape Artist. I’d put my money on the Escape Artist.”
“So would I,” Alex said. “We know he’s here. I doubt he’s stopped killing, and he has to be getting money from somewhere.”
Blake turned the board around. “Suggestions on where we go next?”
Tamara stood and stretched. “If Alex doesn’t mind working a couple of hours in the morning, we’ll pay another visit to Mrs. Brockhurst and then interview Belinda and Janice’s friends. I’d kind of like to tell her the truth—that Janice didn’t run away.”
“Good plan.” Reefer stood. “I’d like to identify the Jane Does before we have to bury them. I’ll start searching on Second Chance and see if I can backtrack to when it opened and who may have invested in it.”
“Have we had anything from Forensics on the parts in Ghent or the Granger trailer?” Alex asked. “I think that might help us a lot.”
Derek Frost scratched his head and groaned. “I’ve called them every day so far, and all I hear is they’re backed up and they’ll get to it as soon as they can. I’ll talk to the chief and see if he can put a fire under their ass.”
“What about me?” Crimshaw asked.
Blake grinned at him. “I hear you’ve got new family members. Why don’t you take the day off and get with us on Sunday? I promised Matt I’d take him fishing tomorrow.”
Reefer yawned again. “Well, I think we’ve covered all we can, so I make a motion we all head home and get some much-deserved rest.”
“Anything else, Warden?” Blake asked.
“Not at the moment, but I’ll keep my ears open here. Funny what you can hear in prison.”
The monitor went black, and everyone stood. “I could take Susan and the girls on a drive tomorrow, stop by the station in Ghent, and see if they’ve found anything.” Crimshaw pushed his chair under the table. “Make me feel like I’m doing something.”
“I don’t think you should do that, Crimshaw.” Alex patted him on the back as she headed for the door. “You don’t have the face for it.”
“What the hell is wrong with my face?”
Alex chuckled. “You can’t keep it straight when something strikes you as funny.”
Crimshaw held open the door for her. “Body parts and a pig farm don’t strike me as being funny. You need a ride, Blake?”
“You two go on. I’ll catch one with Derek. I want to view the scene where our latest victims were found.”
Alex walked ahead of him, and he scurried to catch up with her. “So you gonna tell me what’s funny about Ghent or not?”
“If you go, ask for Sergeant Hardmeat.”
Crimshaw stopped in midstride. “You’re shitting me, right?”
Alex turned and grinned at him. “Nope.”
The beginnings of a chuckle started, and within seconds, it turned into an all-out roar of laughter. “How… how did you keep a straight face?” he stammered.
“I thanked God you weren’t with me and stared at the body parts. Let’s go home, Crimshaw. Nobby is cooking my favorite stew.”
~
Candy took her notes and knocked on Val’s bedroom door. “It’s me. Can I come in?”
“It’s unlocked, Candy.”
She opened the door and stuck her head in. Val looked worse than she had the day before. “How are you feeling?”
Val patted the bed beside her. “Horrible. Come sit and cheer me up.”
Candy passed the notebook to Val. “I made a lot of notes, and I may have found us a specimen. He’s a little old, but I got a chance to glance at his file while he was in taking his tests, and it’s recurring colon cancer. We can’t pick him up until Monday, though, and I’m not sure how to do all these tests.”
“Rico can handle the scans and most of the bloodwork. All you would have to do is monitor his vital signs and look for side effects. Those normally appear within three to four hours. How are our guests?”
“Not good. I’m going to check on them after dinner. We started them on the detox medications, but they’re still vomiting, having seizures, and crapping all over the place.”
Val patted Candy’s hand. “And that isn’t enough torture for you?”
Candy shook her head. “They’re not conscious enough to know they’re being tortured. I want them to feel the pain and know it’s me causing it.”
“Soon, darling. Rico can work miracles when he needs to. From the serious look on your face, I think there’s something else on your mind.”
“I think we need to kill Samael,” Candy blurted out.
Val sat up straighter in the bed, her already pale face turning even paler. “And I thought you were smart. Don’t ever say that aloud, Candy. Don’t even think it.”
“Well, I am thinking it. I look at what he did to you and what he did to Rico. I could be next, and I’m not going to just sit and worry.”
Val sighed. “Samael never dies. He’s been killed more times than I can count, and yet he’s still here. If you want to live, you’ll forget about him.”
“That doesn’t make sense, Val.”
“Tomorrow, I’ll have a friend draw up a new identity for you. I think Candy Jackson is a nice name. What do you think?”
“I think you’re changing the subject on me.” Candy smiled at her. “And yes, I like Candy Jackson.”
“Good, then it’s official. Since your mother was such a bitch and didn’t appreciate you, you can
be my daughter.”
Candy studied her face. Maybe the medication she was on had affected her mind. “What do you mean Samael has been killed more times than you can count?”
Val’s face twisted first in pain, then anger. “Because no one knows what the bastard looks like or how many he’s altered to look like him. There are at least three men serving life sentences for crimes he committed, and a lot more occupying graves were killed duplicating his crimes so he could walk away. The term genius doesn’t come close to describing Samael’s intelligence. I told you—forget about him. Now, I’m tired, and I want to rest.”
“That’s crazy. Why would anyone be willing to die for him?”
Val’s eyes took on a faraway look. “Have you ever loved someone enough to die for them, Candy?”
“No.”
“That’s where you’re unique. Most people have someone they care about, someone whose screams would drive them insane. And Samael makes sure you hear their screams, while sending you little bits and pieces of their body, until you’d do anything to stop their pain.”
“You haven’t said anything to make me change my mind, Val. You’ve seen him, and Rico would know his own brother. We would know we were killing the right one.”
Val shook her head. “I saw someone, but there’s no way to know if it was the real Samael.” She touched the bandage on her face. “Considering this is all he did, I suspect it wasn’t. And Rico hasn’t seen his brother in over ten years. He wouldn’t recognize him if he passed him on the street. Now, go and tell Henrietta I’d like something to drink.”
Candy walked toward the door, disappointed in what she saw as a weakness on Val’s part.
“Candy?”
“Yes, Val.”
“This conversation is over. If you bring it up again, you can pack the few things you brought with you and get out.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“I’ve missed this.” Alex dipped a spoon into the stew. “Just you, me and the kids.”
“It’s a dog and a cat, Alex. They ain’t kids.”
“Well, it’s all the kids I’ll ever have.”
“Where’s Blake?” Nobby asked.
“Are you trying to matchmake, you old fart?”
He eyed her innocently. “What’d I say? I asked you where Blake was.”
“Blake and Derek went out to the latest crime scene. They found Joshua Campton and Selina Sims dead in an old house in Brooklyn.”
“Damn, looks like all our suspects are either killing themselves or getting killed off. Anything new on MacIntyre and Granger?”
“First rule, Nobby: never discuss business at the table. Why don’t we talk about your tests today?” Alex didn’t like the way he ducked his head, suddenly finding his stew extremely interesting. “Did you get a chance to see the doctor?”
“Yeah, I seen the doctor. She said they had some new technician in the lab and she didn’t trust his results, wants me to come back on Monday so Robert, whoever the hell he is, will be there.”
Alex frowned. “Why did she think the test results were wrong?”
“Because they were better than last time. You know how doctors are, Alex. Don’t believe a person can get well unless they take their poison.”
“Better? Nobby, that’s great. It means the juice and sprouts are working.” Alex rushed around the table and hugged his neck. “You old coot, you could have told me that.”
“Well, when you get finished gloating, fill me in on the case.”
Alex returned to her seat and went over everything the team had talked about earlier. “Tamara’s picking me up in the morning. Blake said he was taking you fishing.”
Nobby stood and started clearing the table. “Yep, first time I had a decent fishing partner in years. I’m calling it an early night tonight. We’ll be gone by the time you roll out of bed.”
An early night sounded good. Alex yawned, rose, and went to help him with the dishes. “We could all use an early night. Tamara and Gabriella are going to help me clean the apartment tomorrow afternoon. If all goes well, you’ll have your house back.”
“Wish you wouldn’t do that.”
The sadness in his voice tugged on her heartstrings. “I have to do it eventually, Nobby. You’re going to get tired of me and the kids being here all the time.”
He tossed her a dish towel. “Feeling kind of tired. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Alex watched him go, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. What if he’s lying about the test results?
~
“I don’t like lying to your team.” Derek ducked under the crime scene tape and opened the door of the old house.
Blake joined him inside. “Is that why you didn’t join the team when the chief made the offer?”
“He offered me the chance to take the commander position or join special investigations. There are a lot of good officers in this borough, and I felt I could be more effective there, weeding out the bad eggs and protecting the good ones.” Derek opened another door off the hallway and turned on his flashlight. “Bodies were in the basement.”
Spiderwebs covered the walls, and the layers of dust on the steps had been disturbed only by the crew that had been here before them. Blake descended the steps slowly. “Doesn’t look like anybody’s been here in a long time. Who found the bodies?”
“We got an anonymous call.” Derek raised his light to the ceiling. “Bodies were both hung there. Figured they were knocked out prior to being hefted up. There weren’t any defensive wounds, but until we get the medical examiner’s report, we won’t know what was used.”
“The Escape Artist used chloroform on Alexandra; it’s probably his drug of choice.”
Derek frowned. “Lots of other drugs are easier to get on the market. Odd he’d choose that one.”
“It’s all about control. With chloroform, if he knows how much to use, all he has to do as soon as he wants them conscious, is run smelling salts under their nose to wake them.” Blake studied the footprints in the dust. “How many of your guys were down here?”
“Two, and the medical team that carried the bodies out. I believe there were two of them. Why?”
Blake headed for the steps. “Let’s go upstairs. I want to check something.”
Derek shone his flashlight along the floor, trying to discern what had interested Blake so much. “So are you gonna tell me why you asked how many guys were down here?”
“There are only four sets of prints.”
“Son of a bitch, how’s that possible?” Derek scratched his head and followed Blake up the stairs. “Maybe this guy is some kind of magician.”
Blake studied the distance from the door to where he estimated the bodies were hanging. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he walked down the hall, entered the first room on the right, and knelt in the middle of the faded brown shag carpet, right next to the imprint of two bodies. He ran his fingers through the carpet until he found what he was looking for. “Give me a hand here.”
Derek knelt beside him. “What do you want me to do?”
“Follow this seam to the right until you get to where it forks. I’ll follow it to the left, and then we can lift it without creating too much dust.” Blake waited until Derek stopped then moved to the left, following the seam. “All right, let’s pull back slowly.”
The two moved backward one step at a time until the trapdoor was revealed.
“I’ll be damned,” Derek said.
“He’s not a magician, but he is one smart bastard. He didn’t expect us to find this, so you might want to get the forensic team in here to dust for prints or see if they can pick up any DNA. Maybe he got hot and sweated.” Blake rose and stared at his dust covered hands. “We probably should have worn gloves, but they have our fingerprints on file so they can rule those out easily.”
“You got it.” Derek pulled out his cell phone and placed the call. “Do you think this guy at Attica is telling the truth?”
“The warden
does, and he’s not an easy man to fool.”
“A team is on its way. You want to hang around?” Derek asked.
“It’s already past suppertime. Let’s head in, and you can spend some time with your family.” Blake headed for the door. “And a bowl of Matt’s soup sounds real good right now.”
“I still don’t like lying to the team, Blake. We all made a promise, no more secrets.”
“Most of the team has already broken that promise, Derek.”
“What do you mean? Broken it how?”
“I find it odd the Escape Artist hasn’t contacted Alexandra since her birthday.” Blake raised an eyebrow. “And that she’s now pairing up with Tamara.”
Derek scratched his head again. “That’s a little odd maybe, but I figured it was because they were interviewing mothers about their daughters. Seemed more appropriate for a woman to do it. And this guy was here for almost a year or longer before he contacted Alex.”
“Are you trying to convince me, or yourself, Derek?”
“Myself, dammit.” Derek stomped down the hallway and out the door, stopping short of the crime scene tape and ducking underneath it. “So much for promises.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Samael watched the young girl leave the lab, climb into the car, and head into the city. She must be the young woman Val had talked about training, and Rico’s latest pursuit. He found it odd that the scars had no effect on Rico’s attractiveness to women. What was it? His gentleness or his loyalty to those he cared about? Both were weaknesses that only caused pain and disappointment.
He continued watching until the door opened again and Rico walked out, heading for the second vehicle parked in the driveway. Samael smiled, climbed out, and slammed the door he’d been carefully holding ajar.
Rico turned and peered into the darkness. “Who’s there?”
