by C. M. Sutter
We walked down several hallways until we reached the large glassed-in room. Six rows of lunch tables filled the open space, and vending machines stood against the walls. A single-cup coffee maker sat on a counter across the room, with all the coffee accessories and additives in bins next to it. We helped ourselves and sat at the table farthest from the door.
I took in a deep breath and began. Talking about my psychic abilities was difficult since I never knew if I’d be taken seriously or scoffed at.
“I knew from an early age that I was different and often had dreams that at the time made no sense to me until events very similar to those dreams began happening. As I studied what that meant, I realized I could hone my skills just by being more aware of everything around me and in tune with my dreams. Every dream that is actually vivid enough to remember and wakes me up gets written down. I’ve found that many of my dreams, nightmares, and premonitions—whatever you want to call them—come true. I’ve earned money for fun at carnivals and summer fairs, but on the serious side, I’ve helped the Nashville and Chicago police departments solve crimes that they couldn’t solve on their own.”
Dave frowned. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“I’m very serious, and I’ve been called in many times on cases as a consultant until I landed in North Bend. It took the sheriff’s department a long time to give me any attention, but once they did—and with the coaxing of Jade and her sister, Amber—I went to the police academy, graduated, and became a deputy with their department. Since then, I’ve been promoted to detective alongside Amber.” I smiled. “We went to the academy together, and Jade eventually moved on to become an FBI agent in Milwaukee’s serial crimes unit. She needed room to spread her wings, and she and her partner, J. T. Harper, cover the Midwest. It’s obvious that criminals aren’t only in Wisconsin.”
“And Janine’s disappearance is proof of that. Do you know Janine personally?”
“I remember Janine as the scruffy kid down the street, but I was already in college at that time and living on my own. Like I said before, my mom and Beth Reilly are best friends and have been for twenty years. I believe Janine was like a third daughter to my mom.”
Dave rolled his shoulders and sighed. “We were pretty candid with Beth and told her everything we know up to this point.”
I blew over my coffee cup. “I have a candid question of my own.”
“Go ahead.”
“Do you think Janine could have been abducted by the man who’s chopping up women, and have any of those women been identified or reported missing?”
“I see what you’re getting at. Are you asking if they were prostitutes?”
“I suppose I am. Did any have identifiable features, and were the body parts claimed by family?”
Dave shrugged. “To be honest, no. Nobody has come forward, and none of the body parts had tattoos or large scars on them either. Those women—or what’s left of them—are impossible to identify.”
“So there is the chance that those women were detached from family and possibly living on the streets.”
“Yes, there is a very good chance of that.”
“Then prostitutes and runaways would be prime targets, and Janine’s role as a prostitute would fit in the killer’s parameters. He could be watching known hangouts for prostitution or stalking the bus station and picking up women there just like pimps do.”
Dave tapped his fingers on the table. “You’ve done your homework, Kate.”
“I have. I may live in small-town USA now, but I still think like someone who lives in Atlanta.”
Chapter 23
I needed to explain my thoughts to Dave, as well as the recent nightmare I had. I was still unsure whether that dream held any relevance, but many times those small clues turned into puzzle pieces, and before long, everything fit together. We had learned that in hindsight with a good number of cases.
After filling our coffee cups and returning to the table, Dave nodded for me to begin.
“My ability to solve cases usually begins with my dreams, or nightmares. At the time, I may not realize they have anything to do with the case we’re working on, and that’s why I write down everything. Then at some point, the crimes begin to resemble what’s written in my dream journal. I’ve identified victims, killers, locations of crimes, and how people were murdered, just from keeping notes about my dreams.”
“That’s uncanny and quite an asset to any police department.” Dave stared at his coffee. “I bet you’ve gotten a lot of flak over it too.”
I chuckled. “You have no idea, but I have to stay true to my abilities. In my opinion, they’re God-given gifts, and I have to use them for the better good. I have the documented proof on cases I’ve contributed to, so they aren’t just self-fulfilling claims.”
“Can you tell me about the dream you just had?”
I pulled out the notes from my purse. “So far, I’ve only had one nightmare since I’ve been here, but over the course of a case, it’s usually more. Normally, I don’t reveal much until I’m sure the dream isn’t something random and unrelated. At this point, I can’t tell either way—it’s too early in the investigation.” I smoothed out the sheet of paper and read aloud what I had written.
Dave’s eyebrows nearly touched, and his forehead wrinkled into a frown as I explained the dream to him.
“So what do you make of that?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Fog was mentioned on TV that morning and being away from the city for years would cause anyone to be disoriented. I had visited a butcher shop that day, and a man dragging a garbage bag? I might have seen that at any point as we drove around the city, without even realizing it. What makes me think it’s possibly tied to the person who’s chopping up women is what I heard on the breaking news this morning.”
“You mean the latest discovery?”
I nodded and tapped that entry on my notes. “It’s that garbage bag. The news mentioned a large black bag containing female body parts that was found in Oakland Cemetery. My dream character was dragging that very same bag.”
“But was he in a cemetery?”
“I couldn’t tell where he was, just that he was dragging what appeared to be a heavy bag.” I tried to recall my dream as I rubbed my forehead. “He was off to my right, and even though the fog was thick and I could barely see beyond the nose of the car, I was able to see him in the distance. That’s telling me that he and that garbage bag were crucial parts of my dream. The meat cleaver could be a genuine clue, or it could be because I was at a butcher shop that day.” I had a macabre question, and I knew it needed to be asked. “What has the coroner given you so far with this morning’s discovery? Is there a way to tell when that woman died and what parts were in the bag, and finally, did the remains have any identifiable markings?”
“We don’t believe the remains are from Janine.” Dave leaned in closer and spoke quietly, even though we were the only two in the cafeteria. “This information wasn’t shared with the press, but the deep tissue in the torso was found to be frozen. The bag contained two severed legs and the torso. No head, no arms, and no tattoos or scars.”
“Jesus. What about the legs found in Oakland City?”
“This was the first time we discovered a frozen body part, and there’s never been a head or fingers. The killer wants to make sure the victim can’t be identified. This guy covers his tracks well. As far as the meat cleaver in your dream, I don’t think that’s related. According to our forensic team, and that information wasn’t given to the press either, the method of dismembering the women is puzzling. Some areas look like they were cut randomly with a reciprocating saw, and others are in perfect alignment with connecting joints. The skin on those legs looked like the cutting began with a scalpel.”
I winced. “What do you mean by began?”
“It was like the guy started with the intentions of being careful and then changed his mind. There are straight, clean cuts and also ragged ones that looked like they were made
with a saw.”
“But no heads or fingers have ever been found in other locations?”
“Never.”
“So do the precision cuts lead you to believe that the killer is someone who’s familiar with human anatomy, like a surgeon?”
“Who knows. A surgeon is a good possibility or even a medical student. It could have been a person who read any number of articles online about bone and joint locations and how to separate them, so we have no idea at this point.”
I stared at the ceiling as I thought. “Freezing the body is a good way to throw off the time of death since the tissue and skin haven’t had time to deteriorate.”
Masters closed his eyes and shook his head. “I know, and I’ll be honest with you, Kate. I’ve never worked a case like this in my life. I’m at a loss for words and finding out who those victims are is beyond my expertise. I truly believe it’s impossible.”
“Then let me help the PD. My dream world might give us the clues to the killer and to Janine’s whereabouts, things that we can’t find out in real life. There has to be a connection between the body parts found in Oakland City and Oakland Cemetery, doesn’t there? Why the name Oakland at all? It has to hold some relevance.”
Dave looked as if he’d had an epiphany. “You may be on to something.” He stood and nodded toward the door. “I have the findings in my file cabinet back in my office, and believe it or not, there was a gruesome discovery very similar to this that took place on Halloween night last year. Body parts were scattered along a seven-block area as kids were trick-or-treating in the same neighborhood. It was headline news for weeks, but nobody was ever convicted of the crime. Up until last week, I assumed it was a one-time act of violence, but now I’m not so sure. It could be the same person coming back to haunt us.”
I groaned at the irony—and Halloween was in four days.
Two left turns took us to Dave’s office, which was situated to the right of the precinct’s enormous bull pen.
Dave tipped his head toward the guest chairs. “Have a seat.”
I watched as he rounded his desk to the side-by-side file cabinets that stood against the wall. He opened the one on the left and began flipping through the folders.
“Here we go.” He pulled out a thick manila folder and took his seat. “Five body parts were scattered that Halloween night, and the locations were recorded and logged. Give me one second here.”
He paged through the folder separated by three colored tabs, which I assumed were from the original case, the discovery last week, and the garbage bag found in the cemetery that morning. He opened the thickest file, the one from Halloween night, and mumbled to himself as he checked the addresses. He raised his brows as he read the street names aloud. “Lone Oak Avenue.” He glanced my way. “That has the word Oak in it.” He continued on. “Ward Drive, Pennington Circle, Ruzelle Drive”—he flicked the last entry then raked his hair—“and Oak Drive.”
I felt my jaw go tense. “So the word Oak does have significance, and two street names with that word are where the body parts were dumped.”
“Apparently, and my department needs to find out what Oak represents to the perp.”
I stared at Dave with hope in my eyes.
He shook his head. “I don’t know, Kate. I doubt if higher-up is going to give me permission to bring in a visitor from Wisconsin to help out on this case.”
“I’m not from Wisconsin, I’m from Atlanta.”
“You’re splitting hairs.”
I crossed my right leg over my left knee and rolled my shoulders. “True, but you said that first case was a year ago.”
“I did.”
“And the perp was never apprehended?”
He looked uncomfortable as he rearranged himself in his chair.
“Now two similar incidences have happened in the span of a week, and the PD has nothing to go on. What if—”
He let out a long sigh. “I know where you’re going with this. If we had caught the perp last year, the other women wouldn’t have died.”
“But without knowing who the victims are, you can’t connect the dots, and maybe there aren’t any dots to connect if nobody is looking for these women.”
“That’s right.”
I smiled. “But the PD knows Janine, and they’ve been searching for her without any clues or results. Time is of the essence, Dave, and she’s one of your own. Janine needs as much help as humanly possible, and a dose of psychic assistance thrown in can’t hurt.” I waited as he drummed the file folder with his pencil. With nothing but silence between us, I pushed back the guest chair and stood. “I’ve taken up enough of your time, sir. You have a maniac out on the streets of Atlanta who’s chopping up women, maybe even an undercover cop too. Janine took on a very risky duty without questioning her safety, and it’s up to the Atlanta PD to find her before it’s too late.”
Dave pressed his temples. “I’ll get her face on the news as a typical missing person. It’s the best I can do without putting her in more jeopardy.”
I folded my arms and waited.
Dave met my stare. “You’re killing me, Kate.”
“Sorry you feel that way, sir. Good night.”
“Okay, okay, give me your phone number, and I’ll talk to my boss in the morning.”
I turned, took a card from the holder on his desk, and wrote down my cell number. I handed the card to him with a smile. “Thank you, and I’m looking forward to your call.”
Chapter 24
I had spent well over an hour with Sergeant Masters, far longer than I had intended. I hoped he would give serious thought to my offer of help and present it to the man in charge first thing in the morning. I couldn’t see the downside, since on their own, they had no leads or suspects to work with.
I texted Kim as I climbed into the rental car, and I asked if she and Beth were at our mom’s house. Hopefully, the festivities had ended. Beth needed a quiet place to think—and all the support we could give her.
My phone vibrated with Kim’s response.
Yes, we’re at Mom’s house, and everyone has left.
I walked into the house five minutes later and knew Beth would bombard me with questions that I didn’t have answers to. Dave Masters hadn’t given me the okay to work with the Atlanta PD, and I hadn’t even discussed it with Jack, my own boss. Maybe I had gotten ahead of myself by wanting desperately to help find Janine—for both the police department and Beth. After talking to Dave and learning how much time and effort they had already put into looking for Janine, I didn’t want to give Beth a false sense of hope, and at that point, I even questioned the likelihood of finding Janine alive.
As I entered the living room, Beth patted the empty space next to her on the couch. Her eyes, swollen and bloodshot, told me she had been crying for hours. “Kate, did you learn anything new?”
I made eye contact with my mom and Kim before sitting. Mom nudged Kim and tipped her head toward the kitchen. “I just made a fresh pot of coffee. Why don’t you give me a hand serving it?”
Kim stood. “Sure thing, Mom.”
I watched as they both disappeared around the corner, then I heard what sounded like cups and saucers being taken out of the cabinet.
I turned to Beth. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have anything new to tell you. According to Sergeant Masters, they’ve been searching the area Janine was last seen at and asking questions since yesterday.” I squeezed Beth’s hand. “He said there’s a good chance they’ll air a segment on the news about her being a missing person without mentioning she’s a cop. I would agree it’s the smart thing to do, and they need all the leads they can get.”
“That’s it? You’re a cop. Don’t cops reveal more to each other than they do to civilians?”
“Possibly, if there’s something to share, but this isn’t my jurisdiction, and I have no business inserting myself in their case. I did ask Sergeant Masters if I could lend a hand, though.”
Beth’s eyes welled up. “And what did he say?
”
“He said he’d call me tomorrow after discussing it with his supervisor.”
Mom and Kim returned, each carrying two cups of coffee. I thanked Kim as she set a cup in front of me.
“Any luck at the PD?”
“Maybe tomorrow,” I said. “The sergeant has to talk to his boss first. At this point, they have nothing to work with.”
I cringed when Kim mentioned the person who was dismembering women. “And that guy is out there too. The cops have their hands full looking for both him and Janine.”
I saw the realization hit Beth like a ton of bricks. “Oh no, no, no. You don’t think—”
I stopped her before the words came out. “Beth, we don’t know anything at this point. Believe me, if the police give me the green light, I’ll work my tail off to find Janine while they search the city for that sick son of a bitch.” I gave her the best encouraging smile I could muster, but doubt weighed heavily on my mind. “I’ll have more for you tomorrow. Until then, let’s say a prayer that Janine is still okay.”
I turned in at ten o’clock. I needed quiet so I could concentrate on what I had up to that point, but it wasn’t much. With a cup of chamomile tea on the night table, I looked over my existing notes and added new ones to the growing list of things that needed to be investigated.
Why does the word Oak come into play? What is its connection to the killings?
I wrote the word surgeon with a question mark next to it then thought about the body parts found so far over the last week. A pair of legs were found in Oakland City on Wednesday, and that morning, a semi-frozen torso and dismembered legs were found in Oakland Cemetery.
But there aren’t enough parts to make a complete body.
As morbid as it seemed, I jotted down the average body parts of someone who was dismembered. I stared at the sheet of paper.
A head, two arms, two legs, and a torso, but in these cases, the fingers are removed too so identifying the individuals by prints would be impossible. So we have one torso and two sets of legs. This is more than disturbing, but I’m sitting here doing the math, anyway.
