by Andrew Hess
We pulled up to Rossway Road around ten in the morning and found half a dozen squad cars with Ulster County and Dutchess County insignias on them. Apparently we weren’t the only ones anxious to find out what kind of secrets Blake Ambrose was hiding. Detective Thornton was already there looking just as tired as Rodney and I were. To my surprise, he wasn’t leading the charge into the house. He sat nonchalantly on the hood of his car eagerly waiting for my arrival. A tinge of pink hit his cheeks the moment he saw me step out of the car. I tried not to notice him, or at least let him know that I noticed him. It was time to take control of this investigation.
“Okay everyone; listen up.” All eyes were on me. “In a minute, we’ll be opening the doors. I want everyone wearing gloves at all times, no slip ups. I want this search done by the books. Be on the lookout for any type of strange bottles of liquid, pills or medication that could be used for recreational purposes.”
Rodney followed me to the door. We knocked first, knowing full well no one was there. We had to be sure there weren’t any surprises waiting for us inside. When there was no answer, Rodney squared his massive frame and slammed his shoulder into the door, busting it open near the lock. The house was much more lavish than I saw from the window. White suede couches lined the walls in the living room with fifty inch flat screens were prominently displayed in every room.
“Alright, let’s spread out,” Detective Thornton commanded. “I want every room searched; leave no stone unturned. If this prick was hiding something, I wanna know about it.” For the first time since meeting him, I felt Detective Thornton gave a damn about the case instead of worrying about himself or getting laid. For a brief moment, my opinion of him changed, that was until he grabbed my hand and pulled me up the stairs.
“What the hell...”
“Just come with me for a minute Ali,” Thornton asked nicely. His eyes pleaded with me to listen. I wanted nothing to do with him after he showed up unannounced on Saturday and nearly blew my cover. If this was his attempt at an apology, I wasn’t in the mood for it. Yet for some reason, I still let him take me away from the group.
“What is it? What do you want from me?”
“I just wanted to...”
“Save it. I’m not in the mood for an apology. In my opinion, it never happened. Let’s just forget about it and get to work.”
The confident suave mask he wore was ripped away. I saw the hurt in his eyes. He bit his lip, partly in anger. “Look, I fucked up all right. I shouldn’t have messed up your stakeout.” He turned to walk up the stairs.
“That’s it? That’s all you’re sorry for?” I stomped up the stairs after him. I grabbed his hand and spun him around. “That’s all you have to say for yourself?”
“What else is there?”
“The kiss,” I whispered. “You kissed me.”
Thornton’s finger traced my jaw and settled on my chin. “Ali, that’s one thing I don’t regret, and I’d do it again.”
I swatted his hand away. “You ever kiss me or touch me again, I’ll burn your lips off with acid.”
“Feisty, I really like that about you.” He reached for my hand, but I pulled it away. I could hear footsteps ascending the stairs behind me. I turned and saw Rodney making his way up to us.
“What’s going on up here?”
“Nothing, we were uh...” I was still at a loss for words.
Thornton stepped into Rodney’s view. “We were just about to check out the bedrooms up here. You wanna help?”
“How many we got up there?”
Thornton tossed his head from side to side. “I’d say we got about three rooms and a bathroom.”
Rodney nodded. “Hey Reyes,” he shouted to the first floor. “Get your ass up here. We can use an extra pair of eyes.”
My eyes silently pleaded with Rodney to pair Reyes with Thornton. He must have read my mind because he motioned for the kid I once called rookie to follow the man I could not stand being in the same room with. Rodney and I split from the others took the rooms to the right. The first had the look and feel of a movie theater. Black leather chairs sat next to each other in unison, each with their own cup holder. They faced a screen much larger than we found downstairs. This one spanned the width of the room. Rodney pushed on the chair and saw it reclined. He sat down in it and lounged back in it.
“I think we’re supposed to be working not relaxing.”
He rolled his eyes at me. I hate when people roll their eyes at me. It’s so disrespectful. It was just what I needed for me to release some of my pent up anger. My foot slammed between Rodney’s legs. I didn’t hit him, but the placement of my heel was enough to make him jump up with a very worried look on his face.
Rodney’s hands covered his manhood. “What the hell’s your problem?” He saw my hands were clenched and the anger that was taking over me. He stepped behind the chair as if his question was about to provoke me to take another shot.
“We’re here for a reason. Let’s just rip these rooms apart, find what we came here for and get the hell out.”
We checked every crevice of the room, even the mini concession stand that sat in the back of the room. But we never found anything, not even a cornel of un-popped popcorn was out of place.
“What’s going on between you and James?”
“James? Who the hell is James?”
“You know, Detective Thornton.”
I flashed Rodney another angry look. “Nothing is going on between us.” I looked around the room one more time, satisfied that there was nothing there we could use as evidence. “Let’s move onto the next room.”
Rodney stepped in front of me. His massive frame blocked me from exiting the room. “Oh no, something’s off between you two. What happened?”
“Nothing, now get out of my way.”
“No way Ali, I know when you’re lying to me. Something happened and you’re holding out on me, now spill.”
“Rodney, I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Shit, something really did happen? What’d he do?” The memory of Saturday night replayed in my head. I could feel my finger trace my bottom lip as if it could still feel Thornton’s lips there. “He kissed you.”
“Shut the hell up,” I snapped while shoving him against the wall. My forearm pressed against his chest forgetting he was a lot taller than I was. I backed away feeling more tense and stressed than I did on the stairs. “You wanna tell both departments?”
“Did you guys...you know?”
“Ew Rodney, no we didn’t. I would never.”
“Well you kissed him.”
“No, he kissed me and I pushed him away.” I cleared the hall to make sure no one else was listening to us. “Let’s go before your big mouth gets us in trouble.”
The last room we had to check was a bedroom. We thought it was the master bedroom, but with the way Ambrose had it set up, it looked like something designed from a horrible porno. A large queen sized bed sat at one end of the room. Next to it was a nightstand and an empty metal trash can with a plastic liner in it. The nightstand had two large boxes of condoms.
“Ali, I think we’re in his...” The thought had me dry heaving. I held up a hand to stop Rodney from finishing his sentence. “Sex room.”
“Get the analysts up here now. I want them to go over this room with a fine tooth comb.” Rodney moved to exit the room and clicked on the lights that illuminated the rest of Ambrose’s playroom.
While Rodney gathered the rest of the team, I continued checking out the area. A mirror hung over the bed, no doubt so Ambrose could watch himself with his willing or unwilling sexual partners. Against another wall was a swing of sorts. It was large enough to fit one person in it. For the life of me, I couldn’t see how that would be fun. A large cabinet sat in the corner. It had two doors that swung open and several drawers beneath it. Curiosity got the better of me and opened them. The doors housed several types of whips. Some were thin, some were thick and some had several thick straps.
; “Seeing anything you like,” a voice said from the doorway. I slammed the doors shut and spun around like a kid getting caught with their hand in the cookie jar. The comedian was of course Detective Thornton who was right on time to make me flush with embarrassment. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”
“You’re an ass.”
“So I’ve been told.” He took in the room. “You find anything other than our victim’s kinky side?”
I shook my head. “Nothing that we could use to find his killer.” Thornton took a few steps into the room. Something seemed to have caught his attention. He was drawn to it like a moth to the flame. “You okay?”
He moved closer to the wall and knocked on it, hearing nothing but a hollow sound. “This isn’t a regular wall.” His hands smoothed over the surface, trying to find a secret compartment or a handle or something to explain it. His finger activated a mechanism and the wall moved revealing another long mirror and a door. “I wonder what’s behind door number one.”
“I say we open it and find out.” We entered the secret room and found video equipment pointed at the now apparent one sided mirror. We could see everything in the room. To the right of the recording equipment were monitors that showed what every camera saw and recorded, including the one above the bed. “That son of a bitch was filming his conquests without them ever knowing.”
“But where are the tapes?”
I dropped to my knees and crawled under the metal desk, retrieving a small cardboard box and a key locked safe. “Let’s see what we have in here.” I broke the lock while Thornton skimmed through the contents of the box.
“There’s nothing in here but women’s underwear.” The same thought entered our heads at the same time. Every pair of underwear was a trophy Ambrose collected from his victims. “Jackpot,” Thornton called out. “I’ve got the tapes.”
I popped open the safe and found several vials filled with clear liquid. “I think we have what we were looking for.”
Rodney returned to the room as Detective Thornton and I appeared from the secret room. His attention switched between us, giving each of us an unnerving look. “What’s going on guys?”
I held up the safe. “Tell the analysts to start with this and the room behind us. That should give them plenty to work with.”
“That puts a whole new spin on this case and narrows down the suspects.” Thornton shook his head in disbelief. “Our suspect is most likely one of the women on those tapes.”
“What tapes,” Rodney asked.
Thornton showed him the rest of the room. There was no doubt in our mind. Whoever that woman was that interrupted Wendy and Ambrose was the one that killed him.
Chapter 19-Claire
Claire waited until later in the night to go to the gym. She figured there wouldn’t be many people there, and that included her annoying personal trainer who seemed to be doing everything possible to get her in his bed. The danger she faced at the gym would have been too much for one woman to deal with, but with her limited free time, it was hard to find a gym that was open later than ten o’clock.
From the street, the windows were fogged from the intense heat outside and the air conditioners working hard to cool off the building inside. She did her best to scout the area to make sure the coast was clear. Claire pushed open the doors and scanned her badge to check-in. Her eyes quickly scanned the gym, finding Tyson working out with another muscle bound meathead that wanted to look jacked to impress women. They were in the back of the gym with the free weights which allowed her to bolt for the locker room. She hoped to get changed and through part of her workout before Tyson noticed she was there. It felt like a mad dash for Claire to get dressed. It almost seemed like one fluent motion. Her pants and blouse had been cast aside only to be replaced by her workout pants and tank top. Knowing what happened during her last trip to the gym, Claire brought her own water bottle and a towel, making sure to grab them both before hitting the gym floor. She searched once more for her pursuer, but did not see Tyson.
Maybe he went home for the night, she thought, but it was more like praying for it to be true. Claire walked briskly to one of the treadmills. Knowing what the run would do to her legs if not properly prepared, Claire began stretching before climbing onto the machine. She started out slow at first, but gradually increased in speed until she was at a brisk jog. Beads of sweat formed over her brows as a weird sensation drew Claire’s focus from her run. She tried to ignore it, but it was the same feeling she had the last few times she came to the gym. Maybe she was just being paranoid, but something definitely made Claire feel like someone was watching her. Her head craned from left to right, casting glances behind her, finding no one but a few people working out.
Thoughts of the night she murdered Blake Ambrose filled her head. Has someone been following me? Do they know what I did? Her paranoia was running rampant and she was crumbling under the pressure. Her finger had increased the speed of the treadmill without realizing and was becoming increasingly difficult to keep up with the pace. She stumbled and started to fall. Her hands slipped on the hand rails. She was seconds from falling face first into the moving track. The motor on the treadmill stopped forcing the track come to a halt just as Claire turned and landed on her back. She stared up at the lights, thankful she was all right.
Tyson dangled the key to the treadmill over Claire’s face. “Forget to attach something,” he said with a smile. He reveled in the moment of saving Claire’s life. She stared into his eyes and instantly knew what was going on in Tyson’s head. She owed him big and he planned on collecting. He extended his hand and helped Claire to her feet.
“Thanks,” she mumbled while trying to hide her embarrassment.
“It’s no problem. You’re just lucky I was walking by when I did.”
Was it luck, or did he see her walk in and was stalking her while she worked out? The creepy vibe Claire got while talking to Tyson made her think the latter was more likely.
Claire clutched her back. Her hand instinctively reached under her shirt and could feel the bruises and abrasions she suffered. Tyson noticed her fumbling with her injuries.
“Here, come with me and I’ll take a look at it.”
“No, I’m fine.”
“No you’re not. You just fell on a treadmill. You’re holding your back. I need to make sure you’re not hurt.” He leaned in close. Claire could smell the sweat soaking into his body. “Plus, I need to document the accident to protect the gym from any potential lawsuits.” He put his hands up in defense. “Not saying you would, but it’s just procedure.”
“Fine,” Claire finally said as she gave into Tyson’s demand. She followed him to the back of the building and stood in the office. Tyson dug through the shelves for a first aid kit and found one minutes later.
“Okay, let’s get that shirt off of you.”
“Excuse me?”
“Claire, I need to see where you’re hurt to assess…”
“I’m the doctor here. I can assess plenty.” She turned her back to the mirror and lifted her shirt to the middle of her back. There were a few bruises and scrapes starting from her kidney area and climbing up the rest of her back.
“That looks pretty nasty.” It really didn’t look that bad, at least to Claire it didn’t. “We should clean the wound with some water and peroxide.” She knew he was right about that one.
Tyson directed her to the sink in the office bathroom and dampened a paper towel. He gently wiped Claire’s back. The water left a light stinging sensation that Claire hated. His lips pursed together and blew warm air on the on Claire’s back where he dribbled the water onto. When it dried, he took a cotton ball and doused it in peroxide. The stinging sensation returned full force when he applied it to the wounds. Claire nearly yelped in pain, but bit down on her cheeks to avoid it. Tyson took the bandage dressing and handed it to Claire.
“I think you’re more of an expert at using one of these than I am.” Claire nodded and took the dressing from Tyson. �
��I’ll let you wrap yourself while I get us some waters.”
Claire looked around nervously. Was this it? Was he making another play? Was he going to drug another bottle of water? Tyson had left Claire alone in the office. She could make a beeline for the locker room. If he questioned her, she could tell him that she was getting something out of her bag. Her fingers worked the bandage and wrapped it around her body tightly. Once it was secured, she opened the office door only to find Tyson standing there with two bottles of water in hand.
“Whoa, where you off to in such a hurry?”
“I-I wanted to get my phone.”
Tyson reached into his pocket and pulled out the small device. He handed over to Claire and smiled. “You left it out by the treadmill. I figured you’d need it.” He entered the office and closed the door behind him. The two bottles were placed on the desk. One pushed towards Claire, the other was off to the side where Tyson’s chair was. His back was to her for just a second, but it was all she needed. Claire switched the water bottles as Tyson made his way to his seat and sat down.
“Thank you,” Claire said sweetly. “You didn’t have to do all of this for me. I mean you saved my life and now you’re trying to take care of me.”
“It’s no trouble. I’m just glad I was in the right place at the right time.” A smile crept over his face as Tyson raised his water bottle. “To being at the right place at the right time.”
Claire grabbed her drink and lightly tapped the neck of her bottle to the neck of Tyson’s. The water touched Claire’s lips and slid down the back of her throat. It tasted like normal water to her and not like it had been tampered with like last time.
Claire remained tense and attributed it to Tyson moving his chair closer to her. He watched her take another nervous sip of water. He was filled with delight and continued to slurp his water down. His hand snaked out from his lap and touched Claire’s knee. She jumped back in her chair.
