Retribution: A Psychic Detective Kate Pierce Crime Thriller (Psychic Detective Kate Pierce Crime Thriller Series Book 1)

by C. M. Sutter

  “I understand.” I thought of the dozens of types of cards available. Entire aisles were dedicated to cards for every occasion. “Let’s begin with birthday cards, okay?”

  “Sure, that makes sense. There are dozens of them, though. Do you know if the card was for an adult or a child, a man or a woman?”

  I groaned but knew the alternative would mean looking at the back of every card to try to match up the item number above the bar code. I rubbed my forehead as I thought.

  Jesse has no siblings or parents. I don’t have the slightest idea if any of his friends have kids. I don’t think he has a girlfriend, or there would likely be a receipt for flowers or candy too.

  “Let’s start with adult birthday cards.”

  “Women or men?”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Both, I guess, but men first.”

  “Okay, here goes.” She flipped the pages of the binder to the birthday cards for men then used the handheld scanner to capture the bar code. She turned back to her register and typed in the item number from the receipt. She got a hit. “Wow, I can’t believe that worked. It is a man’s birthday card.”

  I rubbed my hands together. “Great, now what?”

  Her smile faded. “Now you have to compare the item numbers on the back to find the right one.”

  “Shit.” Seconds later, I had an epiphany. “Wait a minute. The cards are grouped by price, right?”

  “Yes, and that will definitely speed up the process.” She looked at the receipt again. “A four ninety-nine card isn’t a cheapy. I’ll show you the area where the better quality cards are located, and then you’ll have to take it from there.”

  “Not a problem, and I truly appreciate your help.” I followed the clerk to aisle seven. One side contained greeting cards, and the other side was filled with magazines.

  “Right over here.” She pointed at a section of birthday cards that was separated by cards for him and cards for her. “The expensive ones are on the lower three rows.”

  I mentally counted the rows and tiers. I had only about fifty cards to go through, and hopefully I’d find the one that matched the item number. “Okay, thank you. This doesn’t look too daunting.” I memorized the last four numbers on the receipt, got busy, and was certain I could knock it out in fifteen minutes.

  Twenty minutes later, I had reached the last row. There were only a handful of cards left to check. I prayed that the card I needed hadn’t sold out. “Damn it.” I glanced at the last two cards. “One of you has to be the one. Please, I need a little help here.” I picked up the card in front of me and turned it over. The last four digits were a match. I pulled the receipt out of my pocket and compared all the numbers. They were the same. “Thank God!”

  I looked down the aisle, and a mother with two kids in her cart was staring at me. I smiled and flipped the card over to read it. It was indeed a birthday card for a guy and said something about being great friends, even when life’s daily routine kept them from seeing each other as much as they liked.

  He must be an old friend who lives far enough away where they don’t see each other often. He could have been a neighborhood buddy from school or somebody Jesse met in college. Maybe his job took him out of the area.

  I took the card to the counter, paid for it and two candy bars, and thanked the clerk for her help. With a lot on my mind, I headed to Jesse’s house to search again—this time for something that would tell me who the birthday man was. There had to be a time and date written down somewhere for a birthday get-together that had possibly taken place on Sunday evening.

  Chapter 10

  He shifted into Park and watched from around the corner with a bird’s-eye view of Jesse’s house. He had been following that woman ever since she left the police station. She pulled into Jesse’s driveway, parked the cruiser, and stepped out. Seconds later, a squad car slowed at the curb. She turned when the officer climbed out of his car, then she reached in her purse and pulled out something. The man rolled down his window, snugged his hat a little lower on his forehead, and slipped on a pair of sunglasses.

  The man squinted with recognition as the officer approached the woman. It was Jeff Lennard. The residential neighborhood seemed generally quiet that time of day, and he hoped to overhear the conversation between them. He cocked his ear when Jeff called out to her.

  “Detective Kate Pierce?”

  She responded as she waited on the sidewalk. “Yes, that’s me.”

  Detective Kate Pierce, huh? I’ll have to check into your background a little further. Apparently, you aren’t from the Chicago PD, or Jeff would know you.

  He watched closely as the woman held out her credentials for Officer Lennard to examine then shook his hand.

  Yep, definitely not a local.

  They walked to the house together, then Lennard knelt at the shrubbery, reached in, and pulled out something. Seconds later, he unlocked the front door. The man chuckled. “Not the best hiding spot for a house key. That’s the first place a burglar would look.”

  Less than ten minutes later, Officer Lennard exited the house and drove away.

  Hmm, now I have Detective Pierce all to myself. Guess it’s time to find out who you are.

  He touched his phone’s screen and typed her first and last name into the search bar. A slew of information popped up. He laughed out loud when he read that she was a psychic detective from some Podunk town in Wisconsin. She had even assisted the Chicago PD on a case years back. “Seriously? They called in the psychic cavalry to help solve the case of the dead attorneys and the newly missing Jesse McCord? You have your work cut out for you, Detective Pierce.”

  Movement at Jesse’s front door caught his eye. She was heading out on foot.

  Now where are you going? It can’t be far if you’re walking.

  He held his position until she turned left at the end of the block, then he fired up the car and followed from a safe distance. Three blocks and fifteen minutes later, he saw her enter the corner drugstore. He parked in a small lot across the street for a half hour and waited. He chuckled with excitement when an idea bubbled up in his mind.

  I’ll go back to Jesse’s house and surprise her when she returns. She won’t know what hit her—literally.

  The man turned left out of the lot and headed back to Cregier Avenue. From a block away, he saw Lennard’s squad car pull up to the curb and park directly across from Jesse’s house. The sun had already dipped beneath the horizon, and only a few minutes of daylight remained.

  He’s not about to ruin my plans. What’s one more dead cop in this city?

  He cut his headlights five houses down, exited the car, and walked around the block. He’d come up from behind so the element of surprise would be on his side. Officer Lennard wouldn’t have a chance to process what was happening fast enough to react. He’d be a sitting duck—or in that case, a sitting pig.

  With the hat lowered on his head, the man cut through a vacant lot and came out on the other side, just fifty feet behind the parked squad car. He attached the suppressor to his handgun and stuck it in his waistband. Through the driver’s-side mirror, he saw Lennard looking down, likely checking something on his cell phone. It was time to play the missing-dog ruse. He began calling out the name of an imaginary dog, peering under bushes and crossing back and forth from one side of the street to the other. In his peripheral vision, he saw the officer lower his window.

  Lennard called out, “What’s the problem?”

  The man held up both hands as if anxiety had overtaken him. He approached the squad car. “My dog ran out of the house when I was bringing in the groceries, and I can’t find him anywhere. The wife will have me by the throat if I don’t find Squiggy before she gets home. Have you seen a medium-sized brown dog run by?”

  Jeff Lennard peered both ways down the street. “Can’t say that I have, but I’ll keep my eyes peeled.”

  “Nah, don’t bother.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Because you can’t help me wh
en you’re dead.” The man pulled the gun from his waistband and fired it into the officer’s neck. He looked down the street—everything remained quiet. He grasped the handle, opened the squad car’s door, and pushed the button to close the window. Officer Lennard had already fallen over in the seat.

  Now to find a spot and settle in so I can ambush Detective Pierce when she passes by.

  He pulled the ski mask from his pocket and slipped it over his head as he crossed the street and disappeared into the shadows.

  Chapter 11

  A blanket of dark blue had taken over the sky by the time I left the drugstore. I zipped my coat and tucked the bag containing the card into my purse. City buses and taxis zoomed by until I turned off that busy street and into the residential neighborhood that led to Jesse’s house. Streetlights were flickering, and the sky was darkening quickly. Officer Foxworthy’s words from that afternoon popped back into my mind.

  Late night isn’t the best time for a woman to walk the streets alone.

  I patted my hip for that extra sense of security. My holstered gun was right where it needed to be, but it wasn’t late, and I was a cop with a Glock 22. I knew I’d be fine and continued on with only one block to go.

  The crackling at my back startled me. I spun but saw nothing as I tried to adjust to the growing darkness. Shrubbery and large oaks lined the sidewalk to my right, and the street was to my left.

  It has to be squirrels chasing each other through the bushes.

  I sucked in a breath of cool air and quickened my pace. That same sound jarred me again just seconds later, and the memories of fighting for my life years ago swept over me. I spun a second time, and there he stood. The man grabbed me by the neck and covered my mouth with his hand to muffle my scream. I swatted at my hip, hoping to make contact with my service weapon. Gripping a handful of my hair, he pulled me against his masked face and whispered his warning as he ripped my gun from my reach and jammed it into my back.

  “Move it, Detective Pierce, and don’t try anything. I won’t think twice about killing you.”

  Pressing my gun’s barrel against my spine, he pushed me forward. My eyes darted back and forth as I searched for someone who might be outside, possibly getting their mail after returning home from work, but there was nobody. Beyond the sidewalks, yards, and windows, homes were lit up with families inside. Couples prepared dinners while others watched the news, yet nobody had a clue a woman was outside with a gun pressed against her back. Safety was out of my reach. “Where are we going?”

  “Don’t play stupid with me. We’re going to Detective McCord’s house, where you’ve been snooping around for the last few hours.” He jerked his chin toward the end of the block. “Give me your phone.” He watched as I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out my phone. “Nice and easy and don’t try to be a hero. You’ll only end up dead.” He dropped my phone into his pocket and pushed me forward.

  “Why is your face covered? Are you somebody I might recognize?”

  “Hardly and shut up. If you see my face, you die, so be grateful it’s covered. That way you can’t describe me to the cops. Acting clueless doesn’t suit you, Detective. We both know better.”

  “So you know all about me, do you?”

  “Stop talking and get inside.”

  I saw Officer Lennard’s squad car parked across the street and felt a sense of relief. He’d call for backup and come to my rescue, wouldn’t he? Yet I couldn’t understand why he didn’t get out.

  The masked man laughed as if he’d read my mind and pushed me up Jesse’s driveway. “Officer Lennard can’t help you, Detective. He’s decided to take an early and permanent retirement. Now unlock that door and get inside.”

  God, no! Lennard is dead, and there’s no way to alert anyone. I can’t call for help, and I’m probably next.

  Once we were in Jesse’s house, the man ordered me into the kitchen. He waved my gun wildly at me.

  “Find something to tie your hands with. You’ll need a blindfold too. Get on it, now!”

  I opened the same drawers I had earlier and knew nothing in them would work as a restraint. The drawers were filled with dishes, glasses, pots and pans, and towels, but I remembered seeing a roll of twine under the sink.

  I tipped my head toward the cabinet. “There’s twine under there.”

  “Good. Get it and find some tape too.”

  He pressed the gun against the back of my head as I knelt to the cabinet beneath the sink. “I’d think twice about grabbing something down there to use against me. Your head will be shot off before you stand up.”

  I picked up the ball of twine and slowly lifted it above my head. “It’s only twine, nothing else.”

  He pulled it from my hand and set it on the counter. “Find some tape.”

  I looked deeper in the cabinet and saw a dish containing a few screws, washers, and a half roll of plumber’s tape. “I found this.” I held up the roll so he could see it.

  “Good. Now back out of there and stand up.”

  I followed his orders.

  “Find something to cover your eyes with.”

  I tipped my head toward the second drawer to the right of the stove. “I saw dish towels in there earlier.”

  “Grab two of them and take a seat in the dining room. You’re getting tied to a chair.”

  With two towels in hand, I took a seat and waited. I needed to survive the night and get help. For now, I had to memorize everything I could about the mystery man. He had to be the person who’d abducted Jesse and killed Officer Lennard. My gut was telling me he might have been involved in the attorneys’ murders too. I took in his height and probable weight. His hands were gloved, so I couldn’t tell his race from them, but I knew he was white because of his voice, the cutouts around his eyes showing a sliver of skin, and his blue eyes.

  “Clasp your hands behind your back through the chair rungs and don’t move an inch. If you do, you’re dead.”

  I winced as he twisted the twine around my wrists and jerked my hands back against the chair.

  “Too tight?”

  I ignored his question but needed him to keep talking. I wanted to turn the conversation around to be about him “Who are you? I need to address you by name.”

  “My name won’t help you, but I’ll tell you just for shits and grins. You only get a first name, though, and consider yourself lucky to get that.”

  “Yeah, I’m waiting.”

  He laughed. “You really are a bitch, you know that?” He grabbed a handful of my hair and ripped it from my head.

  I moaned. “You son of a—”

  “What were you about to say?”

  “Nothing.”

  “That’s better. Now, back to your question before you interrupted me. My name is John.”

  I smirked. “Good answer. There are probably hundreds of thousands of men named John in Chicago.”

  “Yeah, probably, but you asked, and I answered.”

  “What do you have against Jesse McCord, and why did you kill those attorneys and Officer Lennard?”

  “Who said I did? I certainly don’t owe you an explanation. You’re just a nosy wannabe psychic detective who wants her fifteen minutes of fame. You’re trying to worm your way into a high-profile investigation to get some press for yourself.”

  I laughed, hoping to unnerve him. “You don’t know a damn thing about me. From where I sit, you’re the one who’s looking for a little press. Not getting enough attention in your real life?” The ringing phone in his pants pocket interrupted my question.

  John pulled my phone out and checked the screen. “Isn’t that special? You’ve already exchanged personal telephone numbers with Sergeant Lutz. Damn it, we’ll have to cut our conversation short, and I was really looking forward to spending quality time with you.” He draped the towels over my head and wound the tape around them. “Gotta go, but a word of caution, Detective Pierce—watch your back. You never know who’s going to jump out of the bushes.”

 
With that, he delivered a hard blow to my face and knocked the chair backward with me on it. I groaned in pain as my head bounced off the floor. Seconds later, I heard the front door slam. I wiggled the chair back and forth until I got it to flip on its side. I knew if I could reach the kitchen, I’d find something to cut that twine with. On my knees and with the chair still secured to my back, I inched forward. I banged into furniture and fell over every few feet, then I felt the floor surface change. I had gone from hardwood to tile. I’d reached the kitchen. The cabinet beneath the sink held nothing useful, so I’d have to find something else—something sharp. I crawled to the junk drawer and got my feet under me enough to stand. Turned to the side, I got my fingers under the pull and slid the drawer open, but I couldn’t see a thing, and the chair blocked my ability to reach in.

  Son of a bitch. How am I going to free myself?

  I grabbed the pull again, jerked the entire drawer out of the cabinet, and it crashed to the floor. I wrenched against the twine and tried to loosen it enough to move my hands. I had to search the items that spilled out. Hopefully, I’d come across scissors or a nail clipper. That was when I heard something at my back.

  Chapter 12

  It sounded as though an entire army had stormed the house.

  “Kate, are you in here? It’s Sergeant Lutz.”

  I yelled from the kitchen, relieved that they came to find out why I hadn’t answered my phone. “I’m on the floor in the kitchen. I’m tied up and blindfolded.”

  “What the hell happened here? Who did this to you?” Lutz knelt at my side. “Don’t move. I have my pocketknife in hand.”

  Within seconds, I was freed. I ripped the towels and tape away from my face and rubbed my bloody wrists.

  “Sir, Officer Lennard—”

  Lutz nodded. “We knew something was wrong after we couldn’t reach either of you. The ME is on his way, and Truman, the patrol sergeant, has his units outside. They have the area and Officer Lennard’s car and body secured. Let me help you to the couch. Take your time, Kate, but I need to know everything. We have to get this monster off the street.” Lutz turned his head to the officer at the door. “Get her a glass of water.” He stared at the welt that was forming on my cheek. “Are you sure you’re okay?”