by Leslie Wolfe
“Ah, you know Fradella,” Michowsky replied. “He sees serial killers everywhere. Yesterday he thought it was the husband who did it. Today, he has a different opinion. But I don’t think it’s a serial killer. Not this time, anyway. It’s a single murder, nothing more, albeit a little strange.”
“Tell me about it,” she asked, then took the cup of soup Cat offered and sipped from it. It wasn’t all that bad, but it wasn’t good either. With food like that, her recovery was going to take a while.
“Um, maybe some other time,” Michowsky replied, shooting Cat a concerned gaze.
Cat looked at Tess for an instant, then stood up and stretched his back. “I could use a shower and some real food,” he said. “Back in an hour?”
Tess nodded with a smile, and he disappeared.
“Come on, spill it,” Tess insisted.
“All right,” Michowsky replied, lowering his voice in an attempt to keep the nurse from hearing their conversation. “This girl, first she sees a guy in her office parking lot with a rope in his hand. She thinks he’s a creep, ignores the whole thing. Two days later, the creep with the rope appears in her own backyard and scares the crap out of her. They report it to the cops. Then she goes missing for a week, then turns up dead in the same backyard, the same spot where rope guy had stood. Strangled with a rope, no less.”
Tess nodded a few times. “Yep, serial killer.”
“Told you so,” Fradella said, sounding almost excited.
“Only one victim,” Michowsky argued. “Not enough to call it a serial.”
“Several serial killer attributes come across in this MO, even if he hasn’t killed more than one person, or we haven’t found more than one of his victims yet. That’s possible too.”
Michowsky stared at the cement pattern on the floor. “All right, let’s say I buy that.”
“He even has a signature, Gary. I’m guessing she was raped?” Tess asked, causing the nurse to lock eyes with her for an instant, then look away. Tess smiled apologetically.
“Yeah, she was.”
“Postured too?”
“Yep.”
“Huh… What does Doc say?”
“It’s too early. We just found her last night. He’s working on it,” Michowsky replied.
“There’s something else,” Fradella said. “The killer changed her wedding ring with another ring, smaller, cheaper.”
Her brow furrowed deeper. “How are you working this?”
“We spoke to the vic’s husband, parents, and the last person to see her alive, her hairdresser. Got some insight.”
“Stylist,” Fradella corrected him, and they both chuckled.
“Yeah, my bad. We’re running digital footprint, social media, phone records, while waiting for Doc Rizza to give us the autopsy results, trace, and DNA. He seems positive he can get us trace and DNA for this case, something solid to work with. He’s found stuff on the body.”
“Run a state-wide search for any rope-related sightings of creeps anywhere.” She met Michowsky’s inquisitive gaze with a sheepish grin. “Put an active alert in the system. You know, just in case it’s a serial killer.”
“Yeah, I kinda thought of that, but didn’t get to it,” Fradella said.
She sighed, feeling a little tired. “Then you might not need me after all.”
“We hope we might not need you,” Michowsky confirmed, “but something tells me we will.”
14
Lunch
Melissa checked the monitors in Tess’s room one more time before heading to the cafeteria for lunch. She shot her patient a quick smile and waved. “I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
The fed seemed okay; she was quite popular, considering the constant flow of visitors, and deliveries of balloons and flower arrangements that had started pouring in. More than anything, she seemed like a nice person. She was tough, but not completely callous, like most law enforcement, bitter for having been wounded on a job that paid too little for its demands and brought nothing but grief in their personal lives.
She closed the door behind her and headed toward the elevators, letting her mind wander. After a few steps, her shoulders dropped and her head hung, but she didn’t even notice the change in her own demeanor. Her personal anguish washed over her brain every time she wasn’t completely immersed in her work. It drained her, flooding her reason with unreasonable fears and unspeakable pain.
Was Derek cheating on her? Or was she losing her mind? One moment she was cringing, visualizing Derek making passionate love to a beautiful, young stranger. The next, she cringed again, imagining herself throwing a hissy fit at him, and being proven wrong.
Moving on autopilot, she entered the cafeteria, still crowded after the lunch rush hour, and grabbed a tray. She stood in line, looking at the day’s meal offerings, but not noticing them. A minute later, she set her tray on a table, filled with a slice of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and some gravy, then she went back for the cutlery and napkins she forgot.
“Hello, Miss Henderson,” a man said, cutting into her path. She had to stop, so she wouldn’t run into him. He wore the gray scrubs reserved for imaging technicians, and the color looked good on him. He was new; she hadn’t seen him around much.
“Oh, hey, Mike,” she replied, forcing herself to sound if not friendly, then at least decent, polite. “It’s Mrs. Henderson, by the way.”
The young man smiled with his entire face. “There are facts of life I choose to ignore.” He pulled out of her way with an exaggerated, gallant gesture, then asked, “May I join you for lunch?”
She made an apologetic gesture with her hands. “Maybe not today, Mike. Some other time?”
“Sure, just say when. I’ll be waiting,” he replied, and ended his phrase with a wink.
She smiled apologetically. He seemed like a nice guy, this Mike, whatever his last name was. Moderately attractive, but smart, albeit a little shy, boyish even. He was a little awkward around women, and she’d never seen him socialize with anyone. Maybe in another life, in another time, she could have accepted to share a hospital lunch with him and become friends, but nothing more. There were facts of life she couldn’t choose to ignore, like the fact she loved another man, who happened to be her husband. Her cheating husband?
Melissa’s smile died, quickly replaced by the earlier look of anguish she had done such a poor job of hiding. She started to eat her food, and it was tasteless. She normally loved mashed potatoes and gravy, but not today. They tasted like soap, the cheap, flavorless kind. She pushed the tray aside.
“Not so fast, Mel.” A tall woman dressed in dark-blue scrubs dropped her tray on the table and took a seat next to her. It was her best friend, Sophie, a top-notch ICU nurse and a kind soul, who’d taken an interest in her and mentored her through her first year on the job.
She lifted her eyes and met Sophie’s concerned gaze. “I’m not that hungry today, Soph.”
Sophie touched her arm. “You’re also not yourself today, Mel. You look like shit. What’s up?” she asked in a lower voice.
She let a long sigh escape her lips. Who better to help her stay sane? “I… think Derek might be having an affair,” she said, feeling tearful all of a sudden. Saying the words out loud made it real, much more real than she was prepared to handle. She struggled to contain a sob, and reached for the water bottle. She took a couple of swigs and felt better, more in control of her emotions.
Sophie pushed the food tray back in front of her. “Have some potatoes and talk to me.”
“I can’t be sure, that’s what’s killing me. He’s so distant these days… we don’t talk anymore, we don’t do anything together anymore. He’s always at work, always busy, and I’m—”
“Wait, don’t tell me. You’re a full-time nurse in a large hospital, full-time mom, and wonder what you’ve done wrong?”
Melissa smiled tentatively and took a bite of meatloaf. She was grateful for having Sophie there. “I don’t want to accuse him, but not knowing drives me crazy. Las
t night I smelled perfume on him, and I… can’t deal with it very well. Oh, God…” She discreetly wiped a tear, and shot a couple of glances around, to see if anyone noticed anything.
Sophie leaned forward a little, and patted Melissa on her forearm. She gently shook her head, and let a frustrated breath of air escape. “Then find out, Mel. Don’t ask him. Most men lie. Even if you do ask him, you’re still not going to know.”
“How am I supposed to find out?”
“Men are like children. They think they can lie to us, but they can’t, mostly because they don’t pay attention to anything around them, and because they’re careless slobs. If he’s cheating, there will be traces for you to find. Look carefully at his clothes. Check his car. If she exists, she’s been in that car, leaving her hair behind. Pull his credit card statements, see what he spent, where, how much. If she exists, he takes her out.”
“You’re so smart, Soph. No man could pull a number on you.”
“Maybe, but that wasn’t always the case, you know.” She shrugged, probably pushing away a bad memory. “I guess you could call me experienced, rather than smart.”
“Sorry… I didn’t know,” Melisa said, dropping her plastic fork on the tray. “I always say the wrong things, don’t I?”
Sophie chuckled. “No, don’t worry. Doesn’t matter anymore. It hasn’t mattered since I caught the bastard and moved on with my life. Never looked back since.” She smiled with pride. “No man deserves our pain. Eat your food; I’m not going to tell you again.”
They laughed a little. Sophie was like that, she could make the toughest challenges simple, and make her laugh, no matter what the crisis was.
“One more thing,” Sophie said. “Follow him. Is he really working late? Verify that. Once you start on the path of suspicion, at least be fair and square. Suspect everything. But don’t get caught.”
Melissa nodded. “Yep, got it.”
“What are you going to do if you find out it’s true?”
She leaned back in her chair, letting her head hang low. “I don’t know. The thought terrifies me.”
“Would you be able to forgive him?”
She shook her head and bit her lip. “I don’t think so. This is where I draw the line.”
“Smart girl,” Sophie said, and gulped down the rest of her tomato juice, the usual beverage for her hospital meals.
“Then what should I do? File for divorce? What about Charlie?”
“That’s why, my dear, you have to be smart about it. You can’t just yell at him and file for divorce, no matter how much you wished you could do that. Get some proof of his indiscretions. It will help you in court, and it will help you with the custody battle.” She scoffed, deep in thought. “That is, if he’s even going to care enough for a custody battle. He might not want Charlie, you know.”
Sophie had a valid point. Considering the type of parent Derek had been throughout the years, it wasn’t like he bonded with Charlie very much. More recently, he behaved as if the poor boy annoyed him to death.
As if reading her mind, Sophie continued. “If he’s mean to Charlie in any way, make a note of it somewhere, to keep track of dates and what happened. It will help.”
Melissa nodded, suddenly feeling cold, frozen inside. “Oh, God,” she whispered, “it’s becoming real, isn’t it?”
“Listen,” Sophie said, “first, you don’t know anything yet. Don’t freak out over maybes. Save your energy so you can deal with the absolutes. And until proven guilty, give him the benefit of the doubt. Who knows? Maybe he deserves it. You’re young and sexy, he should be on fire around you. Reach out, see if you can kindle that fire again somehow.”
She felt a shudder, remembering how he hit Charlie. That single event had killed her libido indefinitely. She couldn’t bring herself to tell Sophie about it, though. She kept clinging to the hope that it was an isolated incident, never to happen again.
Sophie gave her forearm one last squeeze, then hopped to her feet. “I got to run, I’m already late. Hang in there, Mel, and let me know if I can help.”
She nodded one more time. “Thank you, Soph, you’re a lifesaver.”
She watched Sophie walk away with a determined stride, then let her head fall in her hands the moment she vanished from view.
Spy on him? She felt cheap, dirtied by her mistrust. Yet there was no other way to know for sure.
15
Pathology
Cat quietly snuck back into Tess’s hospital room, and closed the door behind him without making a sound. Then he closed the blinds more than halfway, to give them some privacy. He wore a satisfied smile on his face, and Tess couldn’t help but smile back.
“What’s going on?” she asked. “What’s with all the secrecy?”
“Where’s everyone?” he asked, ignoring her question.
“Gone. Gary and Todd went back to work some time ago, and Melissa, the nurse, is on her lunch break. Why?” She frowned a little, but not enough to erase the smile from her lips. Then a scent caught her attention, and she flared her nostrils inhaling it, welcoming the savor, anticipating the taste. “You didn’t…”
He nodded vigorously, and retrieved a small Styrofoam box from his jacket. “Hell, yeah. The doctor said protein, didn’t he?”
They chuckled as Tess opened the box and took in the aroma of the double cheeseburger, set on fresh lettuce. He handed her a plastic fork, and she immediately took a bite. “Oh, this is so good!”
He sat in the chair next to her bed, watching her eat. “Take it easy, kiddo, don’t rush.”
“Are you kidding me? What if they come in here and take it away before I’m done?” she replied with her mouth full.
They heard voices in the hallway, and Tess quickly slapped the lid back onto the Styrofoam box and hid it under the covers. Then she wiped her mouth discreetly, and swallowed the last mouthful just as Melissa walked back inside.
The nurse stopped in her tracks and took in the scene. Blinds closed, a rattled, fidgety patient, a guilty-looking visitor. She’d probably seen it before.
She started laughing. “Come on, you two, ’fess up.”
“What are you talking about?” Tess asked, as innocently as she could.
Melissa propped her hands on her hips. “I’d have to be dead not to smell that burger. Eat it while it’s warm, if you still have it, but skip the bread and the onions. No pickle, either.”
Cat lowered his head and shook it gently, but his shoulders heaved as he laughed quietly.
Tess mustered whatever dignity she had left and pulled the box from underneath the covers. She opened it and took another bite, trying not to laugh. Laughing tugged at her stitches, and it was still quite painful.
Melissa waited patiently by the bed for her to finish. When she did, she took the box and disposed of it in the bio-hazard trash can, where no one would look.
“We need to get rid of that smell,” she said. She took an air freshener spray from a closet and discharged it generously into the air, then opened the blinds and pulled the door wide open, to let some fresh air in.
“Thank you, Melissa,” Tess said.
“Don’t mention it,” the nurse replied. “No, I mean seriously, don’t mention a word. It’s against hospital policy to eat outside food while you’re in post-op recovery.”
A quick rap on the door frame, and Michowsky popped his head in. “We’re back!”
Tess waved them in, and lifted her backrest another notch.
After Fradella, Doc Rizza walked inside, carrying a flower arrangement.
“Thank you so much, Doc, they’re beautiful!”
The chubby, balding medical examiner blushed instantly. “These aren’t from me. I, um, just signed for these… I should have brought you some flowers too. I’m terribly sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about, Doc, you’re a busy man, and you still came to see me. That’s worth more.”
Embarrassed, he handed her the card that came with the arrangement. It was a funny, g
et-well card with a drawing of a uniformed cop with a x-shaped Band-Aid over his stomach, and it was signed by Bill McKenzie, supervisory special agent, or SSA for short.
“It’s from Bill, the profiler at Quantico. I’m sure you remember him.”
“The one who made you an incredible job offer that you somehow managed to refuse?” Fradella asked. “I still can’t believe you didn’t want to work in the Behavioral Science Unit.”
“Uh-huh, I remember Bill,” Michowsky replied morosely.
They’d pulled a couple of chairs closer, but there weren’t enough for all of them. Melissa pushed over a lab stool on wheels, and Doc took it and rolled it next to the bed.
“We went through the preliminary autopsy results,” Doc said, “and the guys said we should share this with you. I agree.”
“Okay, that’s my cue,” Cat said, and left the room.
“The preliminary cause of death was confirmed. Lisa Trask was strangled with jute twine, about half an inch thick. It left jute fibers in the skin abrasions on her neck. But that’s not all it left. This is where it gets interesting.”
Doc opened a file and showed Tess some close-up shots of Lisa’s throat wounds. The rope had chafed the skin raw, causing superficial bleeding.
“I swabbed these abrasions and checked for DNA. I found samples that don’t match Lisa’s blood type.”
Tess’s eyes lit up. “We got lucky. DNA test pending?”
“Yes, and it will take a while, almost a week, unfortunately. We’ll discuss that later. As I said, I ran quick, blood-type tests on the samples. That’s how I found two distinctive samples.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “More than one DNA sample?”
Doc Rizza nodded. “That’s what I found, a type O-negative, and an A-positive. Lisa was B positive. But there’s more. I got intrigued, so I ran a simple, qualitative, blood test to establish gender, and that’s where the surprise came. One of the samples is female.”
“Oh…” Tess reacted. “So the rope left female transfer DNA in Lisa’s abrasions?”
