Blood Lines: Edge of Darkness Book 3

by Vanessa Skye

  “I hate that name. It’s Maggie, please,” she muttered around the thermometer and sighed deeply. “Is what the detective said true? Was I . . . raped?”

  “Oh my God,” Mat blurted. “No!”

  The doctor gave Berg a stern look before turning back to her patient, taking the thermometer, and scribbling notes in the young woman’s chart. “Don’t worry about that now, just concentrate on healing.”

  “Just tell me!” Maggie yelled and winced, bringing her hands up to her head once more.

  The doctor sighed heavily and looked up from the charts, her mouth tightening. “Yes, it’s true. We repaired some damage to your cervix, drained a bleed from your brain, and strapped a number of cracked ribs. You liver is lacerated, but it will heal on its own.” She glared at Berg. “She was not ready for this news. You should have waited.”

  Berg shrugged. “I’m sorry, but reality is, the sooner I get the information I need, the more likely the perpetrator ends up behind bars so you don’t need to treat any more women like Maggie in your ER.”

  Chapter Two

  “You can come back in now,” Mat said to Berg, who had waited outside Maggie Robertson’s room checking messages and e-mail on her cell while Maggie had taken a few moments to collect herself and absorb the news of the rape. “She’s ready to talk.”

  Berg nodded and stepped back into the room.

  Maggie sat in a slightly more upright position. Her face was red and blotchy, but her blue eyes were now dry.

  Mat sat down beside her, holding her hand gently, and shot a scowling warning glance at Berg.

  “Okay. You were going to tell me why you were fighting with your parents, Maggie?” Berg prompted, after setting her cell to record again.

  “You were going to explain to me how that’s relevant?” Maggie snapped back.

  Berg almost smiled. Her victim still had some fire about her.

  Good. She’s gonna need it.

  “Telling me everything you remember about yesterday will prompt you to recall what happened later,” Berg explained. “It’s a way to get your memory working again, like stretching after a muscular injury.”

  Maggie nodded slightly before flicking a glance at Mat. “Maybe you could get me some water?”

  He smiled wanly and patted her hand. “I’m fine.” He sighed and looked at Berg. “She was fighting with her parents about me. That’s what they always fight about.”

  “Is this true?” Berg asked Maggie.

  Maggie nodded and looked at Mat apologetically. “Pretty much. They wanted me to quit college and come back home. They . . . they don’t approve of me sleeping with a man outside of marriage.”

  “That’s an understatement. They don’t approve of holding hands outside marriage. Or that Maggie should even be at college at all. But she’s so smart she got a full scholarship, so her parents had no say in it. Her dad is convinced we are both going straight to hell.” Mat looked at Maggie adoringly. “But how can something that feels this right be wrong?”

  Maggie smiled at him and nodded. “I told them I wasn’t quitting college, and I wasn’t going to stop seeing Mat. I love him.”

  “When did you last sleep together?” Berg asked.

  Maggie raised an eyebrow. “How’s that any of your business?”

  “If it was recently, we’ll need Mat’s DNA for elimination purposes.”

  “It was Thursday night,” Mat said. “After that, Maggie got her—” He squirmed in his seat. “I-I mean she’s—yes, you can have my DNA. Anything you need.”

  Of course. The tampon.

  “What do you remember after the fight?” Berg asked Maggie as she ran the swab she’d gotten from a SANE nurse along the inside of Mat’s cheek before labeling it and tucking it away.

  Maggie sighed. “I was upset. There’s just no reasoning with my parents. After I refused to come home, they disowned me.” It was clear she was trying to be brave and smile through the tears, but they trickled down her cheeks anyway.

  “I’m so sorry, baby,” Mat said and kissed her hand. “I didn’t want it to come to this.”

  “I know,” Maggie said, squeezing his fingers. “It’s not your fault. Anyway, I drove around the city for a while before coming back to campus. The last thing I remember is getting my books together to go to the library and meet Mat. That’s it.” She frowned and looked at Berg. “I don’t have any idea of what happened after. I’m sorry. Will I remember more later?”

  “I’m not sure, it depends on your head injury,” Berg replied. “But if you do start to remember, can you call me immediately, please? I don’t care what time it is.”

  Maggie nodded. “Anything I can do to find who . . . who did this.”

  Berg patted her hand. “Get some rest. I’ll need to interview you both again, along with your roommate and your parents.”

  Maggie nodded again and gave Berg all her contact information.

  “Until then, try to remember all you can, and if you get any flashes, let me know.” Berg left her card on Maggie’s wheeled table and caught the woman’s gaze once more, giving her what she hoped was a supportive smile. “I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but you’ll be okay. I promise.”

  ***

  “I’ll think about it,” Berg said before hanging up her cell and walking into Jay’s office.

  “What will you be thinking about?” he asked, smiling and stepping around his desk to give Berg a kiss. “Hi, babe.”

  Berg stepped away. “That’s Detective Babe while we’re at work, thanks,” she replied, smiling.

  He snuck in a quick peck on her cheek. “No one’s watching,” he said, peering out at the continuous hubbub of the detectives’ floor.

  “Bullshit. Your office walls are glass, remember?”

  He sighed. “Okay, have it your way. You always do. So what will you be thinking about?” he asked again as he backed away and sat down behind his desk.

  Berg wasn’t quite sure what to say and cleared her throat before forcing the words out. “That was, ummm, my biological father. He wants to meet.”

  “Wow,” Jay said, leaning back. “When was the last time you saw him?”

  Berg shrugged. “That would be the second of never. I’ve never even laid eyes on the man, if you trust a word out of my mother’s mouth.”

  Jay frowned. “How do you feel about it?”

  Berg took a deep breath. “I’m not sure. Last time I tried to contact him I was a cadet, and he wasn’t interested in knowing me then. That was more than fifteen years ago. Why is he so interested now?”

  “Maybe he’s older and regrets his decision?”

  Berg snorted. “You always believe the best in people. It’s really annoying, you know? It’s more likely he heard my mother died and left me money.”

  Jay scowled. “You gave it all to an abused children’s charity, right? Despite the fact that it would pay off the mortgage and buy us three more houses for retirement, I might add.”

  Berg rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “We’ve been through this. I didn’t want any part of that man or my mother in my life, and that includes their money, okay? They’re both dead, and I’m happy about that.”

  Berg’s adoptive father—the same man who had raped her repeatedly during the years she had lived under his roof—had died when she was just a cadet, leaving all his money to his alcoholic wife, Berg’s mother. Her mother had died six months ago, and as her only surviving relative, the money had gone to Berg, despite the fact that it would have pissed her mother off.

  It had never been about the money, though. Even when Berg had been pursuing the bastard in civil court for the abuse he’d subjected her to as a girl, she had only gone after him to get some kind of justice, to make him admit what he had done. The criminal case had been doomed from the start. He’d had the money to hire the best defenders, and Berg has been a struggling student with thousands in college loans to pay off. The linchpin had been when her own mother had testified against her. Shortly after that cou
rtroom disaster, he’d gotten cancer, and her lawyer had lost interest in pursuing it. Her abuser had never served one day in prison for his crimes. Not one.

  Berg took a deep breath.

  Now they were both dead, and she finally felt free of them.

  Jay smiled and walked over to her. He grabbed her head and placed a quick peck on her temple. “I know. I’m just teasing. I respect your decision. In fact, I think it was an awesome decision, and you’re amazing.”

  Berg smiled. “Sure you do.”

  “So tell your father that you’ve donated the money and see if he still wants to meet up. If so, then maybe give him a chance?”

  “I’ll think about it,” she replied. “He’s not the nicest guy, if my mother was to be believed. I don’t need any more fucked up parents in my life. I just got rid of them all.”

  Jay wrapped his arms around her. “I know. You finally seem happy. So what do you know about him? What’s his name? What does he do?”

  “I don’t know much apart from my mother’s venomous recollections.” Berg pulled away from his embrace and moved toward one of the office chairs. “Anyway, this rape case. I interviewed the victim, Maggie Robertson, briefly, but she only remembers up to just before the attack. I also took some DNA from the boyfriend.”

  “He’s a suspect?” Jay asked, sitting back down.

  “My gut says no. He seems pretty devoted to her, and he had no injuries consistent with her attack, but I’ve been wrong before.”

  Jay snorted. “Rarely, Detective Babe.”

  Berg laughed. “Thanks. Anyway, I’m waiting for Arena to get back from the scene so we can head to Lincoln Park and interview the parents. Since she can’t remember anything, I want to talk to them and see if I can’t tighten up the time line. She may not have been attacked on campus, just dumped there. I don’t want to assume anything.”

  Jay nodded. “Okay, great. If you can, try to get back by five. McClymont’s coming in to brief us. A joint task force is being formed between the CPD and the FBI. It sounds right up your alley. I was going to recommend you for it.”

  “Oh? What’s it about?”

  “Some Detroit crime lord has too much heat coming down on him at home, so he’s setting up shop in Chi-Town. He’s into drugs and guns, apparently. Operation Snake’s Nest is aiming to stop him before he establishes himself here. It could be a way into the FBI. I know you have aspirations in that area.”

  She nodded and smiled. “Thanks. It sounds good.”

  “I thought it would.” Jay sighed and frowned.

  “Jealous, Captain?” she teased.

  “Hell yes. Since I’ve been captain, I don’t get to do any of the fun stuff anymore.” He scowled. “I miss it—the action—you know?”

  Berg moved, sitting on the desktop and grabbing his hand. She was getting better at the affection thing, and she knew it meant a lot to him when she tried. “I know. You should’ve stayed my partner.” She smiled, remembering the two years that she and Jay had done their best to make a dent in Chicago’s significant crime problem.

  “But then we couldn’t be the kind of partners we are now,” he whispered, kissing her hand. “I had to choose between one and the other, and there’s no competition as far as I’m concerned. I’ll take being with you over a thousand task forces.”

  Chapter Three

  “You want in on the task force?” Arena asked Berg as she drove the unmarked sedan north from the precinct. “It could involve undercover work. Might take you away from lover boy.” He scoffed and looked out his window.

  “Your concern for my relationship with Jay is touching,” Berg said dryly, raising an eyebrow.

  “Just sayin’,” he said, crossing him arms over his chest despite his huge biceps.

  “Find anything useful at the rape scene?” she asked, changing the subject.

  While she and Arena had broken up many months ago, and as far as she knew, he was still fucking Jay’s ex, the assistant state’s attorney, Carla Maroney, Berg and Jay’s relationship was still a touchy subject with him.

  “We managed to find some blood not diluted by the early morning dew—I’m guessing it’s the vic’s—along with her books, bag, and ripped clothing, but not much else.”

  “What about CCTV or security footage?” Berg asked.

  “I reviewed the tapes that were available, but none showed the attack or anyone who shouldn’t have been there. The university doesn’t have the money for really comprehensive security. What they had showed the vic leaving her dorm just before seven that night, carrying her books. You said the Latino kid is her boyfriend?” he asked.

  “Yeah, he’s at the hospital with her now,” Berg replied.

  “Well, footage shows him entering Maggie’s dorm around seven thirty that evening and not leaving again until eleven o’clock that night.”

  Berg nodded. “Okay. That backs up his story. It doesn’t mean he couldn’t have snuck out another entrance or attacked her before seven thirty, but I don’t think he’s our guy. He has no injuries consistent with the attack, and he voluntarily gave me his DNA. I’ll interview her roommate. See if she can corroborate.”

  “When will we get the rape kit results?”

  “I have made it a priority. Dr. D is working on it now. He’ll call when he has something.”

  Berg pulled up in front of an average house located on the wealthy suburban street of North Fremont. The two-story home was white with a large, protruding bay window and a contrasting bright red door. The windows and door were trimmed in light gray, and the small, immaculately maintained front yard included a square of lush green lawn and flowers planted under the windows and along the paved front walk. Even the sidewalk was beautiful, with large trees, more colorful flowers, and square hedging.

  Berg and Arena climbed the painted concrete front steps and rang the shiny doorbell.

  “Fancy digs for a minister or a reverend, or whatever he is,” Arena commented, looking around.

  “I was just thinking the same thing,” Berg said as the door swung open.

  A short, round woman with red cheeks and the same shade of strawberry-blond hair as Maggie held open the door. “Can I help you?” she asked, smiling pleasantly at the pair.

  “Mrs. Robertson?” Berg asked, flashing her badge as Arena did the same. “Can we ask you a few questions?”

  The woman wiped her hands on her spotless apron and offered them her hand in greeting. “Martha Robertson, detectives,” she said. “What’s this about?”

  Berg resisted the urge to frown as she shook the woman’s cold hand. She knew the Robertsons had been told about the attack. Patrol had informed them when the university named them as Maggie’s emergency contacts. “This is regarding your daughter, ma’am,” Berg said. “May we come in?”

  The door was shoved open wider, and a tall, thin man appeared, a glower on his face. “We have no daughter!” he bellowed.

  “My husband, Michael Robertson,” Martha said in a soft voice.

  Mike, Martha, and Magdalene. And she’s seeing Mat Montena. Hmm, cute.

  “We understand things are a little strained between you and your daughter right now, but we do need to ask you a few questions,” Berg insisted.

  Robertson turned as red as his door, pursing his lips, but remained quiet as he tightly gripped the front door.

  “Of course, detectives, please do come in,” Martha said kindly, stepping out of the way. “Anything we can do to help.”

  Michael glared at them as they walked inside but made no move to stop them.

  The home was beautifully decorated, with shining wooden floors, high ceilings with intricate cornices, and a grand, carpeted staircase with a mahogany balustrade and newel posts that led to the upper level.

  They were ushered into the clean kitchen but declined to take a seat as they preferred to remain standing and on their guard.

  The Robertsons quickly confirmed Maggie’s timeline the previous day—she had come over for breakfast with her parents
only to leave before it had been served.

  “Mr. Robertson,” Berg said, watching as he sat on a high stool on the other side of the kitchen bar. “Did she give either of you an indication of where she was going when she left?”

  “Call me Father,” Robertson said imperiously, gesturing with a flourish.

  Berg’s eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hairline before she could stop her reaction.

  Like hell.

  “Answer the question, please,” she said.

  “We do not known where Magdalene was planning to go after she left here, but I’m sure she went to see that boy,” he said. “I’m sure he did this to her.”

  “What makes you say that?” Arena asked, stepping forward as he jotted down notes.

  “He’s a fornicator, a product of Satan. He has led my only child astray. It makes sense he would also be a rapist,” Robertson explained. “Once a woman gives herself over to satisfy a man’s urges outside the sanctity of marriage, she cannot expect to say no the next time, can she?”

  Arena shot Berg an alarmed look, clearly expecting her to lose her temper.

  Berg nodded discreetly, clenched her fists, and then counted to ten in her head before speaking. “At this stage, we do not see him as a suspect, unless you have more specific information for us about it?”

  Robertson glowered at her but remained silent.

  “Do you know if she was having any problems with any other men? An ex-boyfriend maybe?” Berg asked.

  Martha stood next to her husband and let out a small sob, grabbing at her husband’s hand.

  “Please forgive my wife. She finds Magdalene’s decision to move away from God very distressing,” Robertson said, patting her hand. “We named her for Mary Magdalene—to remind her of the sinful, easily led nature of women, but I’m afraid those teachings were in vain.”

  “And you didn’t see Maggie again after she left here yesterday morning?” Arena asked.

  Robertson shook his head. “We had made the decision to close our hearts to Maggie. We had no intention of seeing her again. She is no longer welcome here.”