The Killing Room

by Gerri Hill

  “Good as new.” Jake motioned to the closed door. “Dragon Lady waiting on us?”

  “Afraid so.” Liz picked up the phone and waited only a second. “The detectives are here.” Liz held the phone away as Dr. Benson spoke loud enough for Jake to catch the “about goddamn time.” Liz smiled apologetically. “Go on in.”

  “Thanks.” Jake gallantly stepped aside, offering Rick the chance to walk in first, but he shook his head.

  “No way. You get to hear it for being late, not me.”

  “Wimp,” she murmured, as she opened the door to Dr. Benson’s office. She conjured up one of her most charming smiles, hoping to deflate some of Dr. Benson’s anger.

  “Do you have any idea how busy I am, detectives?”

  “Of course, Dr. Benson. It’s totally my fault that we’re late. I can assure you it will never happen again,” Jake said.

  Dr. Benson took off her glasses and impaled Jake with a stare that actually caused her to take a step backward. “You don’t have to assure me, Detective McCoy. This is the last appointment I will ever make with you. If you need information from a post I did, you’ll have to get Dr. Gamble or one of the assistant MEs to help you. I will not waste my time with you.”

  “We’re ten minutes late, Dr. Benson. Ten minutes because I was downtown following up on a lead in our investigation of these murders. But I do know how valuable your time is, and if you can’t spare a half-hour to assist us with four murdered women, I under-stand.” Jake turned to go, ignoring Rick’s wide-eyed stare. “Perhaps Dr. Gamble has the time.” Jake heard the chair bang against the wall as Dr. Benson stood up quickly.

  “Who do you think you are, speaking to me that way?”

  Jake smiled. “I’m just a lowly detective trying to solve four murders. I don’t have time to play games with you, Dr. Benson.”

  “Detective McCoy, you have just made an enemy.”

  “Yeah? Well, get in line. I’ve got plenty.” Jake left, leaving Rick to stay or follow. As expected, he hurried out the door after Jake.

  “Have you lost your goddamn mind?” he hissed.

  “Apparently so. But she’s pissed me off for the last time.” Jake stopped again in front of Liz. “Gamble still doing the post?”

  “Yes.”

  “Jake, please tell me we’re not going in there. You know I hate that.”

  “Best to grab him now before Benson talks to him.”

  “Christ, I hate when you go off like that,” Rick said, as he walked quickly to keep up with her. “And what lead were you following up on that you’re late?”

  “None. I was with Dr. Westbrook.”

  “I swear, Jake. What is it about that woman?”

  Jake stopped suddenly and met Rick’s eyes unflinchingly. “What it is, Chase, is that she’s going to get her ass killed unless we find this bastard.”

  “So you’re… protecting her?”

  “You got a better idea?”

  Rick shook his head. “You’re in a mood today,” he said quietly.

  “Because we got fucking shit on this case and goddamn Dr. Benson thinks it’s a fucking game!” she yelled.

  “Will you calm down?”

  “I am calm,” Jake said. She knocked once on the glass and waited for Dave to motion them inside. “Hey, Dave.”

  “Tired of waiting on me?”

  “No. But I pissed off the Dragon Lady again, and she’s refused to help us. So you’re it.”

  “No problem. I’m done here anyway.” He pulled the sheet over their victim and nodded to Carl, his assistant. Carl wheeled the body away, and Rick finally let out his breath. “I know you hate autopsies, Chase.”

  “With a passion. The last time I sat through a full one, I had nightmares for a week.”

  “How similar is she to the other one you did?” Jake asked.

  “The one at the lake? Thornton?”

  “Yes.”

  “Identical. Except for the knife wound. And it was done postmortem.” He picked up his notes. “Cause of death is strangulation. Vaginal trauma, but no fluids present.”

  “She was cleaned up?”

  “She was cleaned up inside and out.”

  “Helen Thornton, Sandra Poole, and Shelly Burke all had traces of triclosan. It’s listed in every post.”

  “Triclosan is the active ingredient in antibacterial soap,” Dr. Gamble said. “It’s not unusual to find traces on victims.”

  “But our victims are all… really clean,” Jake said. “No fluids, no fibers. Nothing. So, my theory is, they’ve been cleaned. They’ve been washed.”

  “And you’re most likely correct, Jake. I assisted on the post of Sandra Poole, too. She’d been sodomized. And raped. But she was clean. Almost as if he’d… douched her. Which I wouldn’t rule out. But other than the tissue tears, there was no outside evidence. So yes, he cleaned her up.”

  “So, he cleaned her up as if he had a background in forensics… or he just cleaned her up?” Jake asked.

  “I’d say he knew what he was doing,” Dave said. “My guess is he left them soaking in a tub of water and soap for a day, then per-haps sprayed them down. All four victims were found at least forty-eight hours after death.”

  Jake nodded. “Dave, do me a favor? If we get another one, can you do the post?”

  “Dr. Benson is still my boss.”

  “Yeah, but if she finds out it’s our case, she might pass it to you anyway.”

  “Well, let’s hope we don’t have any more.”

  “Seeing as how we’ve got shit for leads, I’d say that’s not possible.”

  “I’ll do what you need me to do, Jake.”

  “Thanks, Dave. Can you make sure Monica sends us the full report?”

  “Of course.”

  ———

  It was well after five when Jake and Rick walked into the squad room, but their lieutenant was waiting for them.

  “Goddamn McCoy. Dr. Benson?”

  Jake squared her shoulders. “She pissed me off.”

  “So I take it.”

  “She called you?”

  “Oh, no. Not that simple. She called the chief.”

  “Damn. The chief called you?”

  “Chief called the captain.”

  Jake grinned. “Well, that’s good. You only heard it like… third hand.”

  The lieutenant let a quick smile cross his face before he hid it. “Consider yourself reprimanded.”

  “That’s it? You don’t want to know what went down?”

  “I heard her version. I can only imagine yours.”

  Jake nodded. “Sorry, Lieutenant, but she plays these fucking games.”

  “I know. Everyone knows how she is. We can only hope she’ll retire soon, McCoy.” He glanced at Rick. “What you got?”

  “Nothing,” he said.

  “Four dead women and nothing. Great. We’ll get killed on this one.”

  “The only consistency in these cases is that they are all clean.” When the lieutenant rolled his eyes, Jake went on. “I know you don’t like my soap theory, but Dr. Gamble backs it up.”

  Lieutenant Gregory looked at Chase.

  “Yes, sir. Gamble said most likely that they’d been washed before being dumped.”

  “Great. And that helps us how?”

  Jake shrugged. “Well, I don’t know.”

  “And this Westbrook woman? Where are we with her?”

  “Her secretary is monitoring their mail and phone calls. Dr. Westbrook has given us access to her files. Well, some of them. She’s agreed for me to watch her again tonight. She’s not exactly crazy about this, though.”

  “Well, I talked to the DA. Debra Fisher is not assigned to us on this one. Apparently, she’s running for mayor and working with us will apparently cut into her time.”

  “Imagine that,” Jake murmured. She’d never liked Debra Fisher. On the surface, Fisher appeared to loathe Jake, barely speaking to her. But privately, she’d made it no secret she wanted to sleep with Jake.
Jake wasn’t interested.

  “Marcus Thompson has been assigned. As soon as we get a suspect, he’ll bring Dr. Westbrook in if need be.”

  “There’s something else, Lieutenant. About six years ago, Dr. Westbrook had a stalker. She says that she called 911 and two units responded. She says that they shot the suspect in her front yard.”

  “And? You think this is related?”

  “I don’t know. The system has jack on her.”

  “What?“

  “No hit on her name or address.”

  “Not possible, McCoy.”

  Jake met his eyes. “She’s not lying to me.”

  “If it happened, it’s in the system. If she called 911, it’s in the log.”

  “And if it’s not?”

  He let out a breath, eyes closed for a second before speaking. “See if you can verify it. Neighbors, somebody. We’ll go from there.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  “Are you sure takeout is okay?”

  Nicole smiled. “It’s fine, Jake. I’ve been here before. Their lasagna is wonderful.” Jake just nodded, and Nicole watched her profile as they waited in line. Her face was etched with worry, and Nicole wondered if she was the cause of it. “Bad day?” she finally asked.

  “Understatement,” Jake murmured. The car in front of her moved up and Jake did the same. “You know Dr. Benson, the ME?”

  “I’ve met her, yes.”

  “Well, she hates me. Unfortunately, she did the post on two of our victims. And I was ten minutes late for our meeting this after-noon. Apparently, her time is much more valuable than anyone else’s. She let me have it. For once, I didn’t just stand there and take it. So, she called the chief who called my captain, who called my lieutenant.”

  “I’m sorry. She’s always been… well, difficult.”

  “Difficult?” Jake laughed. “I was going to say a bitch.”

  Nicole laughed, too. “Well, there’s that.”

  Jake turned in the seat and met Nicole’s eyes. “I also have a problem with your stalker.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can’t find a match anywhere, Nicole. Not on our system, not on the log.”

  Nicole folded her arms across her waist, remembering. “When they showed up, I was in the house, of course. I saw their lights, I heard their sirens. I was in the living room, watching. The guy, the stalker, he ran toward the cars, hands held up. And then there were shots fired, and he just dropped, right there on the lawn.”

  “What time did all this happen?”

  “I don’t know. It wasn’t really late. Ten maybe.”

  “Okay. What happened after the shooting? The cops came and talked to you?”

  Nicole nodded. “One of the officers did, yes. He said that the guy wouldn’t be bothering me anymore. That was about it.”

  “What about investigators coming to talk to you about the shooting? Internal Affairs?”

  “No. No one did.”

  “Reporters?”

  “No.”

  Jake moved forward again, opening her window and handing the girl some money. “Nicole, if a patrol unit is involved in a shooting, there’ll be an investigation. There’s an internal investigation anytime there’s a shooting, regardless.”

  “Well, no one talked to me about it.”

  Jake took the bag through the window and handed it to Nicole, then took her change. “Did anyone else witness this? A neighbor?”

  Nicole stared. “Are you questioning whether this really happened? Do you think I’m making this up?”

  Jake drove off, getting back on the highway. “No, I don’t think you’re making this up. And that’s what scares me. Because there’s no record of it.”

  “My neighbor came over that night, after it happened. Mr. Reynolds is sort of a busybody in the neighborhood.”

  Jake turned down her street, slowing as she glanced at Nicole. “I’ll talk to him. There’s probably no connection whatsoever to your stalker and the murders, but it’s just odd that I can’t find a record of it.”

  Nicole watched the street as Jake drove, seeing the identical duplexes flash by until Jake turned into a driveway and cut the engine. Once again, Nicole wondered why Jake lived where she did. It was so out of character from the woman she knew.

  A short time later, after Cheyenne had run inside and inspected the visitor, Nicole served portions of lasagna on the two plates Jake had produced. A bottle of wine appeared, and Nicole watched as Jake reached into a cabinet and took down two wineglasses. Nicole unfolded the garlic bread, pleased that it was still warm.

  “Smells great,” Jake said. She handed Nicole a paper napkin and a fork, then sat down opposite her.

  “Yes. And I’m starving,” Nicole said, taking a bite. “Delicious,” she murmured.

  Jake watched her, still dressed for the office but with her sleeves unbuttoned and rolled over at the cuffs. Nicole’s wrists were slender, the left one sporting a loose-fitting silver watch, the other bare.

  “What?”

  Jake looked up. “Hmm?”

  Nicole smiled and pointed her fork at Jake’s plate. “Eat before I start stealing off your plate.”

  “You’re probably not used to such informal dinners as you’ve had here, huh?”

  “It’s not like I eat at Sullivan’s every night.”

  “But when you go out on a date, you go someplace nice? Formal?”

  Nicole nodded. “Usually.”

  Jake leaned forward, smiling. “So, you’re really in the closet?”

  Nicole nearly blushed. “Professionally, yes. Privately, not really. I mean, my family knows. Catherine obviously knows.”

  “Where is your family?” Jake asked after sipping from her wine.

  “Grand Junction.”

  “Is that where you grew up?”

  “Yes. I got a rather nice scholarship offer from CU and moved to Boulder the summer after graduation.” Nicole added more wine to both their glasses. “I don’t get back there much, but my mother and I talk often.” She looked at Jake, wondering about her own family. “What about you?”

  “Family? My folks retired, sold everything they owned and bought a travel trailer.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “They love it. Don’t see them much, though. They usually make it up this way in the summer.”

  “Siblings?”

  “No, there was just me.”

  Nicole took another bite of lasagna, then asked the one question that had been bothering her the most. “Tell me about your dream.”

  Jake looked up, startled. “My dream?”

  Nicole leaned her elbows on the table, resting her chin in her palms. “Up in the mountains, that night or early in the morning, I guess, you had this dream. You were talking about shooting some-one, killing someone.” Nicole smiled. “It freaked me out. And I’d convinced myself that you were a hired killer or something. A cop never once crossed my mind.”

  Jake laughed. “So that’s why you cut out in such a hurry?”

  Nicole felt a slight blush creep up her face and nodded. “But now… now that I know you, the dream means something else entirely. And it troubles you,” she said quietly.

  Jake swallowed. “And professionally, you want to hear about it?”

  Nicole met her eyes. “Professionally—and personally.”

  Jake was about to refuse, but the look in Nicole’s eyes was purely sincere and nothing but caring. Jake decided it might actu-ally do her good to say the words out loud, instead of the lie she’d told the police psychologist. So, she filled her wineglass again and closed her eyes, and remembered.

  “Rick and I, we were at this apartment complex, looking for an informant. He wasn’t home, so we were checking with neighbors, you know. I think we were on the third floor when we heard shots.” Jake shrugged. “Could have been anything, but we decided to check them out. By the time we ran down three flights of stairs, we heard sirens and figured something had been c
alled in. Then we heard shots again, behind the building, in the alley. We ran.” She looked up and met Nicole’s eyes. “This guy had a little kid around the neck and had a gun pressed against his head. Another guy was running away so Rick chased after him, leaving me with this guy and this kid. I held my weapon at him, told him to release the boy, but he just laughed at me.” Jake shrugged again. “A unit pulled up. One officer went after Rick, the other one, Perkins, he came with me, pulling his weapon, too.”

  Nicole reached across the table and took Jake’s hand. “What happened?”

  “We didn’t have a clue as to what went down, we only knew this guy had a gun to this kid’s head. He was pulling him down the alley and we followed, telling him to drop his weapon, to let the kid go. But he wouldn’t. And Perkins was telling me to take a shot, but I couldn’t. The boy was right there, he was too exposed. I remember thinking, if he would only do something, bite the guy’s hand, kick him… anything… anything to cause a distraction, then I’d nail the guy. But this kid, he can’t be more than eight, and he’s scared to death.”

  Jake’s hand trembled as she picked up her wineglass and took a sip. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to continue. “The guy came to a fence. He had his back against it. We had him. I told him to let the boy go, that there was no way out. And he started laugh-ing at me. The next thing I know, shots are going off everywhere. I see the boy fall, I see Perkins fall… I’m firing my weapon, and I feel this fire in my leg, and I go down. And he’s still standing. I shoot again and finally, he goes down, too.” Jake squeezed the fingers that were still entwined with her own. “I thought that was it. I was bleeding, I couldn’t stop it. That’s all I remember.”

  “What happened?”

  “Rick came back, found me. Put a tourniquet around my leg. I made it. Perkins and the boy, they were both dead. I spent two weeks in the hospital and then another week in bed. The fourth week, I was doing therapy. And the fifth week, I went to my cabin.”

  “Which is when we met?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you still have dreams about it?”

  Jake nodded. “Not so much anymore. It was pretty much nightly there for awhile.”

  Nicole raised an eyebrow. “How did you get cleared?”

  “You think I’ve told this story before?”