The Zodiac Killer

by WL Knightly

  She kicked off her shoes and went to the radio where she turned on some music to fuel her mood. She took her time gloving up and then worked over the punching bag for a good hour, which was her usual destressing routine after a hard day. She got in a few kicks, a couple of knee shots, and then headed for the shower where she sank to the floor after making quick work of washing the sweat from her body and hair. Another half hour inside her mind, and she stood up and shut off the water.

  She dried off and dressed in yoga pants and a soft cotton tank. Her favorite fuzzy socks completed her look, and then she went to work drying her hair.

  She didn’t watch TV, and reading was something she did to learn, so she fixed herself a cup of coffee and settled into her favorite chair with her laptop.

  She searched for the word Zodiac, and the first thing that came up told her it’s meaning: a circle of little animals. It wasn’t new to her. She’d been over the evidence a hundred times and knew the Zodiac and all of the signs and their meanings like the back of her hand. Cases did that to her. They made her an expert on shit she never cared about before. She settled in for another night of reading, hoping something would come to her. She had to make sure the evidence was solid, that all of the t’s were crossed, and the i’s were dotted. She was certain she’d been thorough.

  Another page lit her screen, and she sipped her coffee as she read, but then her mind drifted back to dinner and how sentimental it had become. She wasn’t a sentimental person usually and had very few weak spots. Robert was one of them.

  The old man had been special to her, and if she had to say she’d ever truly loved someone, it was him. He’d taken her in when she was just seventeen, and even though she would have done anything he’d wanted to stay with him, he’d never taken advantage of her.

  As a retired detective, they shared the same interests, and he understood her passion more than anyone else had. So much, in fact, that he’d encouraged her to go to the academy and had even paid for her ride.

  They had an agreement. She’d be his companion, and he’d see to it she never wanted for anything. He’d held up his promise, as had she, until his dying day.

  Their time hadn’t been long enough, and her one regret was that he’d never seen her reach her goal of becoming an agent but he’d left her in the best hands possible. Sam and Robert had been great friends, and although no one had known her better than Robert, Sam knew enough.

  It was a wonder she’d trusted her life with men, but she knew the difference between a good man and animal, like her father. She pictured herself cowering in the corner, his belt lashing at her fingers, stinging to the bone as she covered her face and head.

  Robert had come in to eat where she worked at least once a week, and they made friends over small talk. He started leaving her big tips and told her to store it away for a rainy day.

  One day, after her father had bruised her neck with fingerprints, she found Robert’s phone number and address tucked in a folded hundred-dollar bill.

  After three more days of her father’s temper, she decided to call the older man. She knew it was inappropriate for a strange old man to leave a young girl like herself his phone number, and she thought that if he wanted sex, at least he’d be gentler. Sex was supposed to feel good, and that seemed a better option than the pain her daddy’s beatings offered.

  “I can help you get away if you want,” he told her. “From whatever harm is coming your way. There’s more to life than misery, Elizabeth.”

  Robert never called her Lizzy. He’d talked to her like she was a woman, an equal.

  “Where would I go?” she’d asked.

  “Anywhere you want.”

  “Could I stay with you?”

  The hesitation in his voice made her regret she’d asked. Of course, he didn’t want her around. She was trouble, and he was just trying to help her get away. “Never mind. I’ll think of someplace else to go.”

  “It’s not that I don’t want to take you in, Elizabeth. It’s that I didn’t think you’d want to stay with an old man like me.” He gave a little laugh, and it was the warmest sound Lizzy had heard in ages. It filled her heart with the same feeling.

  “I’d be safe. You are the law, right?” If she went to him, her father wouldn’t be able to get to her.

  “I’m retired, but yes, I could keep you safe. He wouldn’t have to know where you are. You’re seventeen and free to make your own choices. I can arrange things legally, Elizabeth. If that’s what you’d want.”

  The man wasn’t going to abuse her or use her? She was still leery of his intentions, but she had nothing to lose. “I’d like that.”

  “I’m going to let you decide when.”

  After that, he gave her space, but it didn’t take long. Her rainy day came.

  She could still smell the musty floorboards of the old house she lived in with her father. She didn’t call it home. Home was a place where you didn’t have to cry unless you wanted to, and those who lived there with you didn’t hurt you. Home was what she found with Robert.

  The leaky roof had set her father off that last night after she’d come in tired, driving an old hand-me-down car that barely made it to work and back.

  He didn’t even know who he was yelling at half the time. He’d call her by her mother’s name or her sister’s. Both were long gone, each escaping his misery in their own way.

  After he’d passed out, she gathered her money stash and what few clothes she wanted and ran like hell across the sopping wet earth and practically dove into the driver’s seat. She ran like someone was coming after her, but the old bastard wasn’t going to wake up until morning, and she’d be long gone by then.

  She took out the address and followed the directions Robert had left with her last tip, and she sped away down the winding roads until she found her savior’s house.

  That night, they’d made a deal, and she learned the old man had passed through once a week on his way home from the doctor.

  “I’m not sure how long I have,” he told her. “This old body of mine is wearing out every day. My wife’s gone, I have no children, and my only family is men on the force.”

  Lizzy didn’t ask him about his ailment that night, and he didn’t offer more than saying it was going to kill him eventually. Instead, she wondered what she could do for him.

  “What will you expect from me?” She walked over, sat on the arm of his chair, and rested her hand on his knee.

  He patted her hand. “Just your company is enough.”

  “You mean, you don’t want sex? I’m not a virgin.” She had lost her cherry to a boy from school, but after her daddy caught them down the road in his car, she never saw him again.

  “I can’t exactly have sex, sweetheart. As I said, my old body has just about worn out on me.”

  She found that hard to believe. He wasn’t a decrepit old man. He actually had a nice body, considering his age, and he looked stronger than he was making out. She understood, though. Whatever health issues he had rendered him impotent.

  “I just thought that’s what you wanted.” She shrugged.

  He shook his head. “Honey, you’re a real treat to look at, and if I was forty years younger and you were my sweetheart, I’d keep you on your back, but the best I can give you is a home and security. You take care of me, help me with my home, my bills, my medicine, and I’ll see to it that you never want anything again. I want a good life for you, the one I know you deserve. I know the hell you’ve been through.”

  And he did. He knew more about her than she ever imagined he could, and that was when she realized she wanted to be a detective, too. To know things others didn’t. To see things in a way where no one’s secrets were ever their own, not when she had the power to unlock them. She needed that power.

  That night with Robert, she realized what she wanted more than anything else in the world, and they sealed their bargain with a handshake and a hug.

  No one else but Robert had known her deepest, darkest secrets.


  A noise outside brought her head around, and then a dog began barking loudly. She heard a hiss and a vulgar cry, and she jumped up and ran to her door. The other units were empty around hers, one from an eviction, and the other because her neighbor worked out of town. She glanced down the stairs to see the cat’s arched back, its fur sticking straight up and its paw raised in defense where it had lashed out. The mongrel continued to bark and taunt the cornered feline.

  Anger raged inside Lizzy. She hurried down the steps, and in one swift movement, she kicked the dog so hard it yelped. The cat lowered its back, and a moment later, it padded over and rubbed its face against her bare legs.

  The cat was grey and distinguished, with white paws and a pink nose. It was a survivor. A fighter. She reached down and picked it up. It looked healthy and strong and cleaner than a stray. Most likely, it was someone’s pet that they’d abandoned or lost track of.

  She tucked it under her arm and scratched its ear. “I think I’ll call you Bob.” She turned to walk back up the stairs and brought the cat inside.

  17

  Darek

  If there was one thing Darek could say for the night before, he could say he’d gotten laid. He’d been so worked up after dinner with Lizzy that he’d gone home and put the hard moves on Megan. Thankfully, she’d delivered. She even gave him a blowjob, but only for about five minutes and only because he was eating her out. He’d even shaved for the occasion.

  He looked up in his rearview mirror and ran his hand over his stubbly face. His five o’clock shadow was going to come in early, with him shaving the evening before, but he preferred the rugged look.

  He avoided all the traffic gridlocks and was whistling when he walked into his office and met up with Max.

  “Oh shit, you’re whistling. That means one of two things: you won a bet, or you got laid.” Max knew him better than anyone.

  “The latter, my friend. And she slept in, so she didn’t nag me this morning.”

  “Slept in, huh? You must have worn the poor girl out. Maybe you should keep that in mind. It might make for more pleasant mornings and save your marriage. Though, God knows why you’d want to do that.”

  “You really hate her, don’t you?”

  “With a passion.” The guy hadn’t liked her for years. At first, he thought she was the hottest thing in town, but then Darek had invited the guy and his girl on a double date, and she made a spectacle of herself. Darek forgave her, but Max hadn’t. He had pegged her as a spoiled princess, and he had no use for the type.

  “She’s pretty bad, isn’t she?” Darek laughed as he sat at his desk. He couldn’t get the sound of her moaning out of his mind, or how good it felt to be inside of her. “But, sue me, I love the girl.” He leaned back, resting his hands behind his head.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re happy, man. It’s good to know you’re having a nice morning for a change.”

  He was, but he should have known that like all the other times in his life, once he let himself get too high, he’d hit his head on the ceiling and come crashing down.

  Lizzy walked into the office looking like the cat that ate the canary. “Hello, boys.” She gave them a sly smile and tossed a folder down on the table. “I’m glad you’re both here. I’ve got something to show you.” She pulled up a chair, and Max waggled his brows at Darek and pulled up a chair of his own.

  Darek scooted his closer as Lizzy opened the folder. What he saw sent ice water through his veins. The girl in the photo was pale in contrast to the mud around her, and Lizzy flipped that photo to the back of the stack as she thumbed through a few others.

  Darek’s blood pumped at record speed, and his heartbeat was so loud in his ears, he was sure Max could hear it.

  “What case is that?” Max asked.

  “It’s a case down in Virginia from about twelve years ago. A girl was found in the woods behind this diner, and she’d been carved up and beaten pretty badly.”

  “Damn. Did they make an arrest?” Max took the picture she handed him and gave it a look.

  Lizzy put a few of the other pictures on the desk and scattered them. “Yeah, a homeless man was arrested. The report said he’d had contact with the girl while she was at work. And he must have planned to use her in some sort of ritual. They said he had a bunch of satanic symbols tattooed on him.” She laid the next picture down to show the homeless man shirtless with his tattoos. The look in his eyes was one of death, and it was no wonder they’d pinned the murder on him. His scary eyes made Charles Manson’s look as gentle as a lamb.

  Darek focused on the tattoos as the memories from his past flooded in. The news had covered the gruesome findings and the hunt for the murderer, but they’d been focused on the man all along.

  “His name was Otis Gough,” Lizzy said.

  “Was or is? Did he die?” Max passed the image of the girl across the desk, and Darek took it, remembering another name that had burned in his memory. Emily Johnson.

  “Otis Gough died in prison,” she said.

  “And how does this relate to the case we’re on?” Darek knew his tone was a bit firm, and Lizzy looked up like she was just noticing him there. “I mean, this girl had the symbols carved into her back, but we’ve got a tattoo.”

  “A tattoo that was carved up very much like the girl, only with the zodiac symbols,” Lizzy said. “The zodiac is the link, and not only that, but get this—Otis Gough swore to his innocence until his dying day. On his deathbed, he even told the police that they’d let one get away.”

  Darek turned the photo of the man around and pointed to it, his thick finger jabbing the photo right over the man’s eye. “This is the face of a killer. And a liar. The guy did it. They proved he did it.”

  “There was not much evidence, besides circumstantial. Sure, they did find her blood on him, but he found her body. He’d been camping out in the woods near the diner at night and eating scraps from the dumpster. The girl’s father wanted the case over and done with, so it was a rush job. The father was happy to pin it on the guy, and the cops solved their case. A nationally known case with that much media attention, the little town couldn’t handle that shit.” She seemed really convinced, and Darek knew he was going to have a hard time convincing her differently.

  “What if Victor Barnes was the real killer?” She folded her arms and gave Darek a challenging grin. “You’re the one who said there was a gut feeling something was off. What if this is it?”

  “I meant that possibly, Victor didn’t commit the crime at all. You’re saying he committed more?”

  “I’m saying there could be a connection, and this might actually be a serial killer we’re dealing with. Either that or maybe he’s a copycat. This case was in the headlines for a while, at least until they finally got Gough sentenced, and then it died away. What if there’s a connection from Victor to Gough? It’s possible. We really need to look into this.”

  “No, we don’t.” Darek gathered up the photos and shoved them back into the folder. “We need to focus on this case, and this case has nothing to do with some poor girl who was beaten and carved up in Virginia twelve years ago.”

  Max stood up straight and raked his hands through his hair. “Relax, man. She’s got a point. The carving and zodiac symbols are way too fucking similar to ignore. And a homeless man, who is eating out of the garbage and has a bunch of pentagrams and goat horns on his chest, is an easy person to pin it on.”

  “Whose side are you on?” Darek hadn’t thought that his own partner would choose Lizzy’s theories over his own.

  Max held up his hands defensively. “I just don’t see why you both can’t be right?”

  Darek wanted to scream. Not because they were wrong, but because the frustration of having the past knocking on his door was getting to be too much. This wasn’t coincidence. Someone was fucking with him, and he needed to know who.

  “The man who was caught in that case has taken the truth to his grave.” Darek knew he had to choose his words carefull
y. He felt the guilt and grief creeping back in. Seeing Emily’s picture, seeing the way he’d left her, it burned a hole in his gut.

  “If the man really was innocent, don’t you think this girl deserves to have the real killer found?” Lizzy’s eyes bored into his, and the moment was so tense between them that he had to look away.

  “Yeah, she deserves it.” He knew it was the truth, but he had to do something to deflect the attention from it. He needed to talk to Bay and tell him all of this. Bay was going to go berserk.

  “Good,” Lizzy said. “So, if this case connects, we’re looking at a whole other ball of wax.”

  Yeah, and Darek was looking at a whole lot of trouble. Last he knew, his clothes were at the bottom of a creek. Hopefully, they’d rotted away a long time ago and gotten carried away by the undertow, but the millstone was probably still there, along with the painted symbols, unless time and mildew had made them illegible. He knew one thing for sure, though. Emily’s blood was still on that stone, and if it was ever found, just a mile through the woods from where her body was found, the case would be reopened, and the nearby Camp Victory would be investigated.

  Lizzy let loose a breath of frustration. “I was so sure you were going to be stoked about this. After dinner last night, I thought we realized we work better together when we get along.” She stormed away and left Darek there with Max, whose mouth was gaping, his eyes wide with accusation.

  When she was gone, he kicked Darek’s chair. “You dog. You two had dinner last night? Are you sure it was your wife you fucked?”

  “I’m sure. It’s not like that with me and Lizzy.”

  “Please, you can’t tell me that there’s no passion there. She just stormed out of here like she wanted to punch you in the face.”

  “Yeah, punch me, not fuck me. Look, I know you hate Megan, and I have to admit, I’m not crazy about the way she treats me sometimes, but when she treats me well, she treats me really well.”

  “You sound like every battered woman who comes through those doors, my friend. That’s what’s fucking pathetic about that attitude.” He looked back to the door where Lizzy had burned her trail. “Look, man. If you two have a thing going, it’s your business. Seriously. I won’t interfere with it, and I don’t even blame you, considering how I feel about your wife, but don’t lie to me, okay? I’ll always have your back.”