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

by C. M. Sutter

  I took notes as Lutz talked. I jotted down his comments and my own ideas to discuss with him later.

  “Starting today, all officers in Patrol will double up, and so will everyone called to a crime scene. That’s across the board in all divisions.” Lutz took a drink of water and looked out over his team. “Okay, one question at a time.”

  Chapter 16

  All eyes were on me as I sat at that table looking out at Chicago’s men and women in blue. I felt as if the guns were loaded and one person in the firing squad was about to pull the trigger. All I needed was a hood over my head.

  An officer from the back called out, “So, Detective Pierce, why are you here?”

  The first question would be the hardest to answer, and I’d have to endure those initial sneers and ridicule coming from tough, predominantly male cops. I took a quick sip of water and answered in my best confident voice. I had faith in my abilities and wasn’t about to be intimidated by people with a mob mentality.

  “Like the sergeant said, I’ve worked with the Chicago PD in the past as a consultant.”

  He continued. “So you aren’t a real cop?”

  “Yes, of course I am. I’m a detective at the Washburn County Sheriff’s Office in North Bend, Wisconsin.”

  Another voice spoke up. “So what kind of consulting would our police force need your help with?”

  I looked up at Lutz, and he gave me a nod. “Not only am I a sheriff’s office detective, but I’m a psychic as well.”

  A detective from the second row yelled out, “No way! We aren’t wasting our taxpayers’ money on hocus-pocus, are we, sir?”

  Lutz tried to calm his people.

  “I can speak for myself, Sergeant. As a matter of fact, I’ve helped solve cases in other cities too, not just Chicago and North Bend. I speak from experience when I say I’ve single-handedly solved murder cases based on my instincts and dreams.”

  Snickers sounded throughout the room.

  “I’m not a mentalist, a sideshow carnival scam artist, or someone who will tell you a bunch of BS to take your money and keep you coming back for more lies. I don’t consult a crystal ball, and I don’t use tarot cards. I’ve been blessed—or cursed, take it however you want—with an extraordinary ability to see cases evolve and criminals come to light in my mind and dreams, or mostly my nightmares.” I stood, rounded the table, and walked out to the group of people staring at me. I pulled off the scarf I wore to hide my scars and walked up to each person, facing them directly. “See these scars across my throat?”

  Everyone looked away.

  “These daily reminders came from a knife-wielding serial killer named Robert Lynch. He tried to murder me numerous times and was finally shot and killed by one of my best friends and housemates—Sergeant Jade Monroe. You may have heard of her. She’s with the FBI’s Serial Crimes Unit now and goes by Agent Jade Monroe. Robert Lynch’s brother sent somebody else to kill me recently. I was finally able to repay Jade for saving my life that night several years back. The man sent by Robert’s brother, Tony Lynch, was about to kill Jade. Instead, I slit his throat with a butcher knife. Unfortunately, he lived, but we made sure he got sent to USP Atlanta, a nasty prison and the very one Tony Lynch is serving a life sentence at. I’ve heard they may even be cellmates soon. That, my friends, is the real definition of poetic justice. So, yes, I am a real cop, and yes, I am a psychic detective. Are there any other questions?”

  A hush took over the room, then a detective from the first row stood and stuck out his hand. “Welcome to the team, Detective Pierce. If you need anything, just holler. I’m Henry Johnson.”

  I shook his hand and smiled. “Thanks, Henry. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I looked across the room and saw most of the group stand and head my way. They followed Henry’s lead, shook my hand, and welcomed me to the team. I knew it was temporary, but I couldn’t wipe the relief from my face. I was accepted, and that was what counted. We’d work together and do our damnedest to apprehend Chicago’s latest kidnapper and killer.

  Lutz wrapped up the meeting and asked Henry and me to join him in his office. I had a feeling I had just met the detective I’d be working with during my stay.

  “Have a seat, guys,” Lutz said. He pointed at the matching set of tan guest chairs that faced his desk. Once we were settled, he closed his office door. “Just a quick update, Kate. I spoke with Jack before our morning powwow and filled him in on everything. I’ll admit, he was apprehensive about you remaining in Chicago given what happened last night, but by the end of the phone call, he agreed to let you stay for the rest of the week.”

  “Jack warned me last night that he’d be calling you this morning, and I’m fine with staying here. I hope to steer the team in the right direction by using my psychic skills before I go back to North Bend.”

  Lutz rearranged himself in his chair. “I hope so too.” He looked from Henry to me. “Moving on, I’m sure you both know why you’re here, and to be honest, Henry, you made my job a lot easier by being the first person to reach out to Detective Pierce. I want both of you to work exclusively on finding Jesse. Find him and you’ll likely find the perp, but Jesse is your main focus.”

  Henry turned toward me. “Do you have any issues with working together?”

  I chuckled. “Not yet. Since I don’t know a thing about you, I’m coming in as a newbie without preconceived opinions one way or another.”

  “Good. Same here, and actually, I think working with you will be fascinating. I’ve never met a psychic detective. I have an open mind and a lot to learn.”

  “I appreciate that, Henry. Having these abilities isn’t something you’d go to school to learn. Whether I want them or not, I have them, and it’s my responsibility to use those gifts for the better good.”

  “Glad to hear you’re both on board.” Lutz sighed. “What you don’t know, Henry, is that Jeff’s killer also held Kate at gunpoint for a solid hour last night. She was tied up, blindfolded, and punched in the face right in Jesse’s house.”

  Henry’s eyes widened, then he pointed at my cheek. “That’s how you got that bruise?”

  I gave him a subtle smile. “Guess my attempt to cover it didn’t fool anyone.”

  “Damn, you’re a tough one, Detective Pierce. What actually happened? Obviously, you’ve already given the sergeant his description.”

  “Well, not really. Like Sergeant Lutz said, the assailant blindfolded me once we were in Jesse’s house, but the entire time I had visual contact with him, he was wearing a black ski mask. I did my best to come up with his height, weight, and race, and that information was passed on last night.”

  Lutz spoke up. “And we have that documented along with the first name, John, but in a city Chicago’s size, that description and name could fit thousands of Caucasian men.”

  Henry turned toward me. “Did you get any information out of him?”

  I shook my head. “Nothing other than gloating that he had just killed Officer Lennard.” I sucked in a deep breath that caught in my throat. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  Lutz thanked me and continued. “I want you to come up with the perp’s reason for apprehending Jesse. That man has an issue with my second in charge, and we need to know what it is. That information is crucial. The rest of the team will work on the attorneys’ murders.”

  I pushed back my chair and stood. “I’m ready whenever you are, Henry.” I addressed Lutz again before we left his office. “Sir, remember the card I showed you last night?”

  “Yes. Do you want to start with that angle and try to locate the friend who had the birthday?”

  “I do. Without a good facial description of the perp, finding out who he is will be tough. If there’s any chance to learn where Jesse went Sunday night and then search video surveillance in that area, we might get lucky. We’ll need to spend more time at his house too and hopefully find names of old friends we can contact. My intent was to go through everything again last night after returning from the drugsto
re, but John put a damper on those plans.”

  “Go ahead and pursue every lead you can think of. The sooner this killer is apprehended, the sooner our city officials can breathe a sigh of relief.”

  I followed Henry to a small room that looked as though it had been someone’s office at one time. Inside that stark space was a folding table and four chairs. It was sufficient for our needs. We had plenty of brainstorming to do, and I wanted to go over every thought I had written down since yesterday.

  We took our seats, and I began. “Did your team get any helpful information or leads from interviewing Jesse’s neighbors and colleagues yesterday?”

  Henry opened the folder in front of him. “We compiled the names of every person we talked to and wrote down every bit of information that might prove helpful. We followed up on those few leads yesterday, but nothing panned out.”

  “May I see what you have?”

  “Sure.” He passed the folder across the table to me.

  Most of the information was from interviews with Jesse’s neighbors. One person had invited Jesse to watch football at their house on Sunday, but Jesse said he had already made plans. Another person reported seeing a late-model, dark-colored SUV sitting at the curb across from Jesse’s house on several occasions.

  “Damn it.”

  “What?”

  My dream of two men sitting in a white car didn’t match the neighbor’s account of seeing a dark vehicle in Jesse’s neighborhood. Even though I wanted to, I couldn’t reveal my dreams to Henry yet. I had no evidence that they were related to the case. Now I had to come up with something to say as a result of unintentionally thinking out loud. I shook my head. “It’s just the neighbor’s invitation to watch football together. Too bad Jesse didn’t mention what his plans were. John has a beef with Jesse in particular, otherwise he could have picked anybody from the police department to take captive. If he did apprehend Jesse after the get-together with his friends, that means he followed Jesse to that location and chose him deliberately. What was Jesse working on recently?”

  “We were all working on the attorneys’ murders, nothing else.”

  My shoulders slumped. “Okay, let’s head to Jesse’s house. There has to be a clue in there somewhere, and we need to find it.”

  Chapter 17

  John waited for the phone call. His contact was scheduled to meet him that day and pick up two ounces of crystal meth. The nice chunk of change he’d get from the sale would go directly to the heavyweights in organized crime, whom he owed for gambling debts. Those debts would never be paid off, and he knew it, but he had no choice—keep paying or suffer the consequences. John’s life was spiraling out of control, and the man strapped to the bed in the other room, along with all those others, was to blame.

  Jesse McCord and the rest of the detectives from Narcotics would pay for the injustice Mason had received. He was the backbone of the business—the entrepreneur, meth cooker, and the man who kept John in the black as a silent partner. John would exact his revenge on the people who deserved it most, especially now, on the second anniversary of Mason’s death.

  His anger rose as he waited. When he found himself sinking deeper in debt, cooking meth to get by hadn’t been the first thought that came to mind. Gambling was in his blood—his own demon and addiction. He couldn’t stop, and he couldn’t cover his losses.

  John filled a syringe and stormed into Jesse’s room. “Here we go, Detective McCord. You’re getting twice as much as before just because I’m a generous guy.”

  This time Jesse didn’t resist. He watched as John sank the needle into his vein. Seconds later, he grunted and jerked back his head. He yelled out as the drug rushed through his veins.

  John inched closer to Jesse’s face and spewed out his hatred. “I’m going to turn you into the biggest piece of shit there ever was at the Chicago PD, and that, my friend, is a tall order. By the time you’re seen again, nobody will give a damn about you. You’ll be an addict and an embarrassment to the police department. They’ll be happy to fire your ass or put you in rehab and forget you ever existed. On the other hand, maybe you’ll die of a stroke from your drug habit, or I’ll give you a hot shot and end everything. I’ll dump your needle-punctured corpse right in the parking lot of the police department. Your obituary will read, ‘Jesse McCord, a drugged-out loser of a detective, has finally passed away, and nobody cared.’ They’ll put your useless body in the ground where you’ll sink into the depths of hell.” John chuckled then shrugged. “I haven’t decided your fate yet, but meanwhile, I’m happy to watch you deteriorate into a drugged-out, scabby-faced shell of a man.”

  Jesse panted as he thrashed back and forth on the bed. His perspiration soaked through his clothes.

  John grinned. “You think you’re invincible now, don’t you? Your senses are heightened. What you’d give to be released from those restraints, right? You can conquer the world because you’re Jesse McCord. You’d probably try to kill me with your bare hands if you were free, wouldn’t you, asshole?”

  “I’d kill you, I’d kill you, I’d kill you.” Jesse’s eyes rolled back, and his head jerked from side to side.

  “You don’t know what the hell you’re doing anymore, man. You’re like a rabid dog and completely out of your mind. Don’t worry. You’ll come down soon, then I’ll give you another hit. I have to admit, I’m enjoying this as much as you are.” The ringing phone interrupted John’s taunting. He walked to the door. “Got to conduct business now, but I’ll be back soon. Yell if you need another hit before that.” He laughed, took off his mask, and slammed the door as he left the room.

  Chapter 18

  Henry and I arrived at Jesse’s house at eleven o’clock. The chair I had been tied to the previous night still lay on its side on the kitchen floor. I righted it and put it back in the dining room. The towels and tape that had been wrapped around my head and the twine I had been tied with had gone back to the crime lab with the forensic team. I knew they wouldn’t find prints on anything—John was always gloved.

  Henry scratched his head and looked around. “So what are we looking for exactly?”

  “The house was searched before I arrived in Chicago, right?”

  “Yes, although I wasn’t with the officers who searched it. They were from the missing persons unit.”

  “Let’s just start over from scratch, then, and search deeper. Look for anything that has a male’s name on it.” I checked the living room and an office down the hall. “Did the PD take a computer back to the station?”

  “I don’t think so. Why?”

  “Doesn’t everyone have a computer? There isn’t one here. Does the PD allow you to have personal social media accounts?”

  “They frown on it, but some people do, or they just use their spouse’s account.”

  “Hmm, that could have been helpful right now. Maybe Jesse did everything from his phone.” I searched through drawers as I thought about previous cases. “Don’t forget to look for photo albums and loose photos. Jesse is older than me, and I still have plenty of real photographs.”

  Henry grinned. “As opposed to five thousand digital photographs stored in the cloud?”

  “Yeah, something like that. Come to think of it, this was his parents’ house. There have to be family photo albums somewhere, and I bet my bottom dollar there are pictures and mementos in them from when Jesse was in college. That could be exactly what we need.” I searched in the most logical places—under beds, in cabinets and bookcases, on closet shelves. I didn’t find a single album. I looked at the staircase that led to the basement and garage. I hadn’t made it to the lower level before I took off for the drugstore yesterday. I pointed at the staircase. “I’m going downstairs to check.”

  Henry followed me. One side of the open basement held a recreation room with a pool table, foosball table, enormous wall-mounted TV, and several leather loungers. A built-in bar took up the length of the north wall, and six barstools sat side by side in front of it.

&
nbsp; “A full-sized bar, six stools, and everything a guy could want in a man cave. He has to invite friends over to enjoy this room with him, doesn’t he?” I looked over my shoulder at Henry. “Have you ever been here? I can see guys hanging out watching Sunday football games or the NBA playoffs. Hell, we even invite the guys over for Sunday football games, and we’re a household of three women.”

  Henry raised his brows. “Sounds like you gals are a lot of fun, but no, I’ve never been here.”

  “Weren’t you and Jesse close?”

  He frowned. “About as close as he was to everyone except Mills. They were partners, you know, and pretty tight. I’m sure that’s why Mills is so angry, and I apologize for his outbursts. It’s got to be the stress. I guess there are people who are your work friends and others who are your real friends. This place must have been reserved for real friends, and Mills was one of them.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean.” I tipped my head toward another room to our right. “Let’s see what’s in there.” I opened the door to find the laundry room, furnace, water softener, and a wall of shelves. Plastic totes filled every space on the three-tiered shelving unit. “Wow. This could be a treasure trove of information. Let’s dig in.” It didn’t take long to find the tote filled with family photos. I thought about Jesse being alone and wondered if keeping the pictures packed away helped with the sadness of losing his parents and only sibling. His situation made me believe even more that he leaned on his childhood or college friends for company. The one and only family photo I saw on the main floor—the large portrait above the fireplace—was probably all he could endure on a daily basis. “We have to find school yearbooks or items he saved from college. We need names.”

  Henry and I sat on the floor and went through several totes but found nothing inside that helped us.

  “I’ve got something.” Henry pulled the lid off a tote that was pushed against the wall. We had already gone through the two totes in front of it.