“You know strangulation is a very personal way to kill someone. Were these all by hand or foreign objects?”
“Truthfully, the bruising is awkward. Not something I’ve seen before. Some spots look like fingers, others look like objects.” Victor tosses a photo down on the table, “I wish I could narrow it down, but it’s just annoyingly inconclusive.”
“Does it really matter here though? Killers kill, it’s really simple. Choking, shooting, stabbing, they all have the same premise behind it, to eliminate someone from the world.”
“And that is why you are the detective and I’m the psychologist,” Frankie leans back in full doctor mode, “Shootings can be vague, maybe they depend on distance and the type of weapon used. Personally, I take those cases one on one. Each is very different, but strangling someone takes a personal rage built up over time. You consciously close off the means of life from another human being. You watch as the life drains from the human being. It’s a different mental state altogether.”
“Thank you for the psychology lesson, doctor, but if they were aware of their attacker, why were there no defensive wounds or evidence of it?” I hand Frankie the medical reports. She scans them briefly as Hadley and Victor mumble to one another. “You two want to share,” I throw out weakly.
“Hadley was asking about the bruise pattern. It was slightly cylindrical, but awkward at the bottom. Not enough to be a baseball bat but I surmise it’s something similar.” Frankie tosses the paperwork on the table.
“It was a mistake,” she stands and begins pacing. “The other women were surprised by their attacker from behind, leaving them no time if any to fight back before they lost consciousness. But the last victim, he could respond…”
“Which explains the vicious attacks post mortem, but I’m at a loss at the connection between all the victims.” Victor states as he flips through more photos that Frankie has left behind as she paces back and forth. Victor stops suddenly, three photos sprawled out in from of him. “He stalked them.”
“That is an obvious suggestion, Victor, but the final victim throws that out the window. Anyone who was stalking close enough to get the eye color, would know their genders. Not to mention if you did a search online you could probably come to the same conclusion. It works, but not enough to explain all of it,” I answer sheepishly. I know they’re trying to help but sometimes they need devil’s advocate instead of a bobble head agreement.
Hadley looks worse for wear as the rest of us marinate our thoughts in silence. Her legs begin to bounce again as she plays with her shirt.
“Had, you okay?”
Her head pops up like a deer caught in headlights.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“So we know he watches them possibly from a distance and attacks them from behind. Gives Frankie more stuff for the killer’s profile, than solid lead for me to investigate.” I write down some notes, “Maybe he had their ID cards, mail, credit cards or emails? Maybe the last victim changed his gender on his paperwork?”
Hadley looks like she’s about to evacuate her stomach all over my floor.
“Hadley, what’s going on? You look sick.” All our attention goes to the actress; Frankie looks her over presumably trying to decipher Hadley’s body language. It’s never easy, Hadley’s a great actress and she really only lets you see what she wants you to see.
“It’s probably nothing.” She looks to be with absolute fear pouring off her in buckets.
“Hey, whatever it is, maybe we can help?”
Hadley stands up and wrings her hands constantly.
“I don’t even know if it’s relevant. It just popped into my head and I don’t know why I didn’t think about it before. Hell, you’re all probably thinking, there goes the dumb actress who’s only good for a sex scene before her death.”
Victor stands up and grabs Hadley’s hands. He tries to calm her down, talking to her in such a low voice I couldn’t hear; it’s sort of working.
Taking a deep breath Hadley stands behind Victor.
“He used his forearm,” Hadley wraps her arm around Victor’s throat and squeezes gently. Victor smirks as he sidesteps before tossing Hadley over his shoulder and onto the floor.
“But just like we thought, a man would defend himself whereas a woman being smaller in stature would be lifted off the ground unable to defend herself. So the bruising on his chest would be consistent with a fist trying to knock the wind out of you. He had to deviate from his normal routine.”
“And by deviating he became angry, and he took it out on the male victim’s body,” Frankie interjects.
“Okay, we have a plausible explanation for everything but…” I let the last word hang in the air as I take a closer look to all of the photos.
“They all look like me,” Hadley throws out to the group as if it was a simple statement.
I look over to Frankie, my eyes pleading for some help.
“Sweetie, just because the killer has a type that happens to look similar to you doesn’t mean anything. We don’t know enough about the case to figure it all out right now, we’re just talking about things.” Frankie stands and takes Hadley’s hands in her own. “Remember I told you the hardest part about helping out here is to make sure you separate yourself from the case. You’re just too attached to everything going on here. If you take a step back, you’ll see there’s nothing to worry about.”
Hadley smiles and lets Frankie’s hands go. She silently walks over to my movie collection and pulls one out. Without hesitating she starts my entertainment center and I see her film Psycho Zombie Ninja pop up from the player. Curiosity getting the better of me I walk into the other room and watch the screen as she skips ahead.
“It’s a love story at heart. The girl rejects this guy who goes to a bar, gets wasted and bit by a zombie bartender. So he becomes part of the undead living among us all the while being trained to be a ninja to fight the war with the living.” She pauses the screen on her face and looks up at me, her eyes wide with this childlike innocence. “He uses a camera to find his perfect victim. Once he does, he uses his ninja skills to go undetected. He gets into position, rushes the victim, lifts them off their feet, and strangles them with his forearm from behind.” She hits play and we all watch as Hadley’s character dies in the film exactly as the others have in real life.
“Hadley, this could mean any number of things.” Frankie tries to diffuse the situation.
“It wouldn’t explain the conversations I had with Mr. Murderer over the phone or the threat to Chase.” I add hoping that this little bit of information would get Hadley to calm down.
Hadley shakes her head at the three of us and marches across the room. She grabs the crime scene photos and throws one in front of us.
“Old warehouse,” she throws another one, “the pier.”
Before she can continue Victor grabs the photos away from her.
“We know where the bodies were dumped. This I-know-more-than-you-do attitude isn’t helping.”
The words around me slow to a crawl as my mind seems to put the pieces together. It’s an odd sensation, when you finally have that light bulb go off in your brain. It’s the synaptic responses, the adrenaline pumping, hairs on the back of your neck perk up to attention while the chill of knowledge rolls goose bumps down your limbs. My mouth moves before I can stop it, “filming locations.” It’s said without emotion but as a matter of fact.
The voices around me stop and I look them all in the eyes. Hadley touches her nose and then points to me, her symbol that I finally understood her comment. Victor and Frankie look at me a bit dumbfounded.
“I had to drive Hadley to all of the film locations, her car broke down. Why the hell didn’t I see this before?”
“How many locations are we talking about here?” Frankie chimes in, her voice drenched with fear.
“A lot,” Hadley simply replies.
I run my hand through my hair, this case is getting to be a bit larger than normal and I am in s
ome serious need of help. I just don’t know who to trust that isn’t already with me.
“Still doesn’t explain the phone calls,” I mumble.
“It might,” Hadley replies.
I lift my head up and stare at her, “How so?”
She nervously chips away at her right thumb nail polish. “Well, in the movie, the killer hunts and murders all these women as if he’s training… to kill the original girl who hurt him. He stalks her, calls her, and watches her all the time…” Hadley takes a deep breath, closes her eyes and focuses on me. “You drove me to all the locations. You are always my bodyguard at horror conventions. Everyone knows you’re one of my best friends. If they’re training to kill… say me, who else would you choose to hurt next?”
Bile rises up in my throat faster than I can stop it. I dash off to the bathroom and let go of what little I have left into the toilet. Chase could be in serious danger, the idea of him being hurt makes me dry heave again. I try to gain control over my tormented stomach as Frankie walks into the bathroom.
“Don’t you knock?” I say not looking up.
“Usually, but not when you’re puking in your hair.” I look over and see wet hair.
“Great, fucking great.” Frankie grabs a wash cloth and rinses it in the sink with some soap. Leaning forward she grabs my hair and tries to clean it.
“You don’t have to do that. I’m more than capable of doing it myself.” Frankie smirks as she mindlessly continues.
“I used to do this all the time when you had too much tequila. I even remember lying on the floor with you trying to stop your shivers.”
I sit back, flush the toilet and lean back against the wall.
“I don’t remember.”
Frankie lets out a shallow laugh.
“How could you after twelve shots of tequila? I’m surprised you remember anything from that night.”
“I wish I knew how to fix everything. Just go back and make it all simpler. Maybe make different decisions along the way.”
I say sincerely as she stands and rinses the wash cloth again. She hangs it over the faucet and places her hands on both sides of the sink for stability. I watch her calmly while she fights herself. Her back muscles tense, her breathings shallow, that’s all classic signs of something in her noggin desiring to come out.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Her muscles loosen up and her breathing becomes a normal pace. She opens the door, “If you made different decisions, I would never have known you.” She walks out of the room and I’m left to my own thoughts. Taking a deep breath I pull out my cell phone and dial the one man I know I can trust.
“Is there a reason you’re calling my personal cell phone?” Captain Udall chirps through the receiver at me.
“My apologies sir, but this is important.” I can hear him lean back in that old leather chair by his desk.
“I’m listening.”
“I need protection for Victor, Hadley and Frankie,” I blurt out as quickly as possible.
“Mind giving me a reason why?” I swear he’s calculating the cost in his head.
“Some new information has come to light.” The silence on the other end forces me to continue. “All the victims appear to not only look like Hadley, but the method of killing and the locations seem to be connected to a film she was in. Now this could all be just a coincidence, but I’d like to make sure.”
“And you think Victor and Frankie are in danger because of their relationship to Hadley. Am I getting this right?” The clink of a glass hitting the wood of his desk echoes through the phone, then the squeal of a drawer then the twist of a bottle top and finally the sound of the pouring.
“No ice?”
“Not this time.” I half expected a hint of a laugh, but he’s far too serious right now to enjoy any bit of humor.
We respond differently to things like this. He gets all fatherly and protective. I get nervous, make stupid jokes, then defensive and shut down. The silence on the other end of the phone unnerves me. After another clink of the glass the captain finally speaks to me,
“Jasmine, please consider what I’m telling you. If this guy is after all of you it’s safer if we protected you in one of our estates.”
“You mean one of our really bad hotel situations or an even worse safe house.”
“In laymen’s terms, yes.”
The girls continue to mumble and murmur to each other. They can try all they might, but they never were able to be quiet. I calmly turn my attention back to the conversation at hand,
“I can’t.”
“What about Chase? Have you even thought about how his is going to affect him?”
“Yes, sir I have. We’ve got protection for him all the time. I’ll protect him better if I know what this guy’s doing. Besides, the last thing that would benefit him is pulling him out of school and locking him away. He doesn’t need the added stress.”
I can hear the bottle pouring again and understand the stress I’m putting my captain through at this moment. The ladies are getting louder in the living room, something to the effect of Hadley’s rabid fans are freaks of nature. At this point, I just want to shut the world off for five minutes so I can get a breath of fresh air in silence.
“We’ll do it your way for now,” the Captain says calmly. “You’ll have round the clock protection. No more shadowing or hiding in the backdrops, Jasmine. These are going to be my best hardnosed, no bullshit guys. Any of you ditch them and I swear to all that’s holy it will take dozens of surgeries to remove your badge from your ass. You understand me?”
I try to stifle my giggle as he sounds more like my mother with every word, but I do appreciate him trying to meet me halfway.
“Yes, sir I do. All of us get round the clock protection, but sir, if they get in my way of the case…”
“You’ll ditch them. I know. Keep your cell phone on at all times, same with the rest of your friends. I’ll make sure we’re tracking your GPS signal.” Normally I would say that was a massive invasion of privacy, but right about now, I could care less. Let them track me. Considering my history I’ll need the backup eventually. Before I could respond to the captain, he disconnects the line and I’m left to the fighting banshees in the other room.
“Maybe if you were more concerned about an actual acting career and not being NUDE in every freaking film you do, we wouldn’t be in this mess,” Frankie screams as I walk into the room. Hadley and Frankie are nose to nose while Victor sits on the couch watching the battle. I bet if I had popcorn and beer, he’d be in heaven.
“Ladies…” I attempt to get their attention but my voice barely permeates the room.
“I AM a serious actress! Just because I work in the horror industry doesn’t make me any less talented than Angelina Jolie. Who, by the way, has also been naked in films before!” Hadley screams back at Frankie.
“Yea, when she was doing it to further the storyline, not saying ‘Hey don’t forget what you come home to!’ that’s cheesy, cheap and frankly makes film feel like a porn.” Frankie shakes her head at a stunned Hadley.
“Actually, nudity is quite useful in various ways in film. Gratuitous sex is pointless, but something that makes sense and fits in the storyline is fine, personally.” The two women look at me like I have ten heads.
“Now that I have your attention there is something I need to share. Considering this mad individual might want to off any one of us, we all have protective details. They should be here shortly. Before any of you argue, be happy we have a detail and are not on our way to an hourly hotel where Hadley’s former co-stars now reside.”
“That was a bit of a low blow, don’t you think?” Hadley looks at me before falling back into the couch.
“Yes, it might have been, but it got your attention didn’t it?” Hadley throws a pillow at my head which I expertly duck out of the way from.
“If this is because of me, I’m sorry. I never thought any of these films would… I just… I can’t control wha
t people do with what they watch.” Hadley hangs her head in disgust. Just as I’m about to open my mouth and argue, Frankie jumps in.
“It’s not your fault. People see the films and find attachment to you regardless of the film. I just wish you would show less skin. You’re better than a nude slasher flick.”
Hadley laughs a bit, “You’re better than an office with no windows and a stuck up pencil skirt, but who’s judging.” Everyone seems to calm down but Frankie walks down the hallway into the bedroom.
I excuse myself and head down the hallway. Frankie rests on Chase’s bed, holding a framed photo in her hand.
“You think he forgives me?” I walk inside and sit beside her.
“I don’t think he feels there’s anything to forgive.” She nods her head and continues to look at a photo of the three of us, before our world was turned upside down.
“I remember this picture from the ballpark. He was bouncing in the car on the way home, telling us all how his father told him not to eat too much crap.”
I laughed.
“Yea, and I sent him photo after photo of Chase eating hot dogs, ice cream, a bucket of cotton candy.” Frankie laughs, “I never thought he’d sleep that night.”
I take the picture out of Frankie’s hands and place it back on his dresser.
“He didn’t. My brother said he was up to three in the morning talking about how he got a baseball, ran the bases and ate anything he wanted. He said we were the cool aunts to hang out with. Chase bragged all over school the next day, while my brother fell asleep at his desk.”
“Why was it so different when he lived here?” It was an honest question. One I had asked myself on more than one occasion. “I asked myself that a lot. I mean we used to take Chase out all the time. We even took him for a weekend away…”
“But you were never totally responsible for him. Even when we went away, we brought him back and dropped him off.” I turn around and leaned on the dresser, trying to find the truth in her words. “Maybe. There was so much more going on though.”
Steele Resolve (The Detective Jasmine Steele Series Book 1) Page 8
