CORE Shadow [1] Shadow of Danger

by Kristine Mason

  “Fine,” she said, not liking the way he was insinuating himself into her life. “I’m game.”

  “Good. The other condition? I don’t want John to know you’re my daughter or that I’m here in Wissota Falls.”

  She tensed. Defensive where John was concerned, where they were concerned. The impact of Ian’s admission placed a whole new spin on her relationship with John, and he needed to know. “Why?”

  “I don’t want him distracted.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Try again.”

  Ian blew out a deep breath. “Okay, I don’t want this to bite me on the ass. John’s one of my best agents and I don’t want to lose him. He’d walk away from CORE if he knew I’d sent him here with ulterior motives.”

  “Which are?” she prompted.

  “To protect my daughter.” He gripped her hand again. “John’s a tough guy to understand. He’s been through...a lot.”

  “I know, he told me.”

  His brows rose. “He did?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Very good,” he said with a cryptic smile. “So, are you up to a few psychic lessons, or do you still want to kick me out of your home?”

  She swung her gaze to Roy, who shrugged. “Up to you, honey. But I’ve got to leave. John and I have work to do.”

  Staring out the window to the back deck, trying desperately to rein in the caustic emotions bombarding her, she sighed. “Why do I feel like I’m being manipulated?”

  Roy’s bark of laughter made her jump. He stood, then kissed the crown of her head. “’Cause that what Ian’s known for best. I’ve got to run. But I’ll drag his sorry ass out of here if that’s what you want.”

  Sliding her gaze to Ian, she tried to weigh her options, but came up empty. Damn, she wished she could talk to John about this. Right now she needed his rational brain to set things straight for her. Her emotions were distorting everything inside of her and making it difficult to think straight.

  But she really wanted to solve this case and make the nightmares go away, and never happen again. If Ian could help her with this...

  “Go do what you need to, Roy,” she finally said. “Apparently, Ian and I have some catching up to do.”

  *

  Hours later, still grinning stupidly, Ian drove his rental back to the Eau Claire Holiday Inn. He finally had what he’d dreamed. A cup of coffee with his daughter. His smile widened. And possibly a future with her in his life.

  After her initial shock had worn off, and Roy had left, she’d proved her resilience. An eager pupil, she’d soaked in everything he’d learned from Janice and passed the information along to his daughter. He’d been tempted to talk her into going into a trance, but figured she’d be reluctant. Performing a trance required trust, something he’d have to earn, something that would take time to develop between them.

  Instead, he’d offered her a job at CORE and a way out of Wissota Falls. She’d been right when she’d asked why she’d felt as if she were being manipulated. He wanted the chance to know his daughter, and having her in Chicago with him would give him that opportunity. Plus, after having worked with Janice all of those years ago, he’d love to put Celeste’s skills to use at CORE as a psychic consultant.

  The moment he’d proposed his plan, he could tell she’d been interested. And he knew why.

  John.

  Considering John had actually told Celeste about his past, something he never discussed, not even with the other CORE agents, Ian suspected the criminalist had fallen for her. And with the way her eyes lit with relief when he’d made it clear John knew nothing about Ian’s connection to Celeste, he wouldn’t be surprised if she’d fallen for him as well.

  Yes. Everything would fall into place nicely. He’d give his daughter financially stability, a career, and the perfect excuse to move to Chicago to be with John. In the process, this gave him the perfect excuse to finally have the chance to know and love his daughter.

  Chapter 19

  John rubbed the tension from the back of his neck. After spending the past three hours staring at the data from the program Rachel had created, and making phone calls to various police departments, he needed a break.

  As he leaned into his chair, his thoughts lingered on Celeste. He wished he could head back to her house and crawl into her bed—with her in it, of course.

  After spilling his guts, his past, his emotions, he knew in his heart he couldn’t walk away from her. He’d decided last night that he’d somehow find a way to make what they had together work. He couldn’t imagine his life without her. In less than a week he’d fallen—hard—for a woman that was his polar opposite. Yet they were so in tune with each other it was scary, overwhelming, and just what he needed. She’d given him a swift kick in the ass. She’d called him out and had told him to stop using his past as a crutch. She’d set him straight, made him think. About the future, about the life they could share.

  Roy released a deep sigh. He glanced at the sheriff, then at Bev. The two of them had been working alongside him since Roy had returned to the Sheriff’s Department after his coffee date with Celeste. They both looked as if they could use a break, too.

  He closed his laptop, then stood and stretched. “How about we head to The Sugar Shack for lunch? My treat.”

  Bev stacked the papers she’d been working on, then shoved them aside. “We have pizza on the way.”

  Roy nodded his head. “Yeah, I thought the sooner we could get this done, the sooner we could have more evidence against Winston. I gotta hand it to that gal of yours over at CORE.” He pointed to his pile of data. “Without this we’d probably never have been able to uncover all the murders Winston committed.”

  “Alleged murders,” John reminded him.

  “Whatever,” Roy mumbled. “There’s no doubt in my mind that Winston did at least the majority of the prostitutes we’ve been looking at all morning. The MO fits.”

  “It does, and once Rachel has a copy of the DNA from these unsolved murders, she’ll send it to our genetic specialist who will compare them to Winston’s.”

  “How long will that take?” Bev asked as she stood and yawned.

  “With CORE’s resources, maybe a day, hopefully sooner. As it stands, between what Celeste and I found last night, and what the three of us have researched this morning, we have over thirty murders matching Winston’s MO in five different states.”

  Bev furrowed her red brows. “God, and we’ve only researched the past ten years. Hasn’t he been on the road longer than that?”

  “Fourteen to be exact,” he answered. “Keep in mind, the DNA from these unsolved murder cases might not match Winston’s.”

  “But,” she prompted.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if the majority will, and there might be more that we’ve missed. The way Winston made sure the bodies were clean of any evidence with the four women he’d dumped here shows he’s conscious of leaving DNA behind. But I’ve noticed there’s been gaps between murders, which makes me wonder if Winston’s partner might be the brains of their operation.”

  “Alleged partner,” Roy said with a smirk.

  “Alleged,” he repeated, smiling back at the sheriff.

  “Because this alleged partner made sure Winston didn’t get sloppy with the women they killed together?” Bev asked.

  “That’s what I’m thinking. Again, we’ll know more once a DNA comparison has been done. Hopefully we’ll find additional DNA that doesn’t match Winston’s.”

  “Then all we’ll need to do is find his partner.”

  The front doors to the Sheriff’s Department chimed.

  “Must be the pizza,” Bev said, rising from her chair, just as Roy’s phone rang.

  As Roy took the call, John wished for something other than pizza. He’d wanted a sandwich from The Sugar Shack. Actually, he wanted to see Celeste. The sandwich, the offer to buy Bev and Roy lunch, were excuses. He’d missed waking up to her this morning, although helping her in her basement kitchen wasn’t hal
f bad. He’d made sure she knew he was there, and had touched her whenever the chance arose. While doing so, he’d conjured all sorts of ways they could utilize that big island in the middle of the kitchen. He’d pictured spreading her body on the counter and feasting on her, or bending her over it and—

  The slam of the phone jarred him from his fantasy. He whipped his gaze to Roy who rose from his chair.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” Bev said as she walked into the room carrying a couple of pizza boxes.

  “That was Winston’s doctor. Our boy is finally awake.”

  *

  By the time John and Roy reached Eau Claire Memorial’s ICU, John’s thoughts were focused solely on Garrett Winston and the case. On the unknown partner.

  “Sheriff, Mr. Kain,” Winston’s doctor greeted them, his expression somber, distressed. “I know you’re anxious to talk with my patient, but there’s something you should understand.”

  “That is?” John asked, ready to interrogate the hell out of Winston.

  The doctor pulled them aside. “Look,” he began. “I told you that the subdural hematoma could cause a coma, which it did. I also told you that once he woke, the effects of his injury could change him.”

  John looked to Roy, who shrugged.

  “What are you getting at, Doc?” Roy asked.

  The doctor sighed. “I don’t know what he was like before, but he’s pretty much a basket case right now.”

  John scratched the back of his head and glanced toward Winston’s hospital room. “A basket case, meaning?”

  “Meaning, he’s a bit, um, emotional right now. And rightfully so,” he quickly added. “He’s been through a lot and I recommend you keep your tone gentle.”

  Gentle? The image of the six dead bodies, along with Celeste’s horrifying trances raced through his mind. “He doesn’t deserve gentle,” John snapped, his temper flaring. “He deserves the death penalty. The only reason I’m glad you saved him is because he has answers to questions we haven’t been able to ascertain. He might be your patient, but he’s also killed a lot of women. In ways you don’t even want to know.”

  Winston’s doctor leaned against the wall. “I read the article from the local paper this morning. As a doctor, trust me when I say it was hard to deal with the fact that I’d saved a killer’s life.” Shoving off the wall, he added, “Have at him, but I’m warning you to be prepared.”

  “Prepared for what? Come clean, dammit,” Roy snarled. “I’d just spent the past three hours looking at the women he’d killed.”

  The doctor gave them a solemn nod. “From the moment Garrett woke up he’s been crying.”

  “As in yelling kinda cry?” Roy asked.

  “No. As in sniffling like a baby crying.” The doctor glanced at his watch, then opened the door to Winston’s room. “See for yourselves. And if you distress him, you’ll be dismissed. He might be a murderer, but he’s still my patient.”

  John gave him a curt nod. “Understood,” he said. He and Roy entered the room, just as Winston released a gut-wrenching sob.

  “What did I tell you?” the doctor asked as he glanced at the curtain drawn around Winston’s hospital bed. “I have to check on another patient. I’ll see you later.”

  “Ho- lee shit,” Roy muttered under his breath after the doctor left the room. “What do you think? Is he playing us, or is what the doc said for real?”

  John shook his head. “I’ve seen plenty of shit over the years,” he whispered. “Criminals having their coming to Jesus moment and all that BS. But I’m not sure what to make of this right now with the way he’s blubbering like a baby.”

  “Okay. So, how do you want to handle this?” Roy asked. “Like we’re talking to a four-year-old, or do we go balls out?”

  John grinned. “Considering he’s murdered four women, and allegedly even more, I say we skip the good cop/bad cop routine and hit him straight on.”

  “I knew there was a reason I liked you.” Roy grinned. “You gonna go first?”

  “With pleasure.” Metal scraped against metal as John tugged open the curtain. “Ma’am,” he said, greeting the nurse.

  She widened her eyes in exasperation when Winston eyed them and began bawling with renewed vigor. “Shh,” she soothed him, as she checked the IV. “Can I get you anything before I leave?”

  “You’re leaving?” he asked, childlike.

  “Mmm-hmm, but I’ll be back in a bit to check on you,” she said as she peered at the bandage wrapped around his head.

  “Okay, but can you grab me another box of tissues?” Winston’s eyes leaked fresh tears. “I can’t stop crying. I can’t stop...” He broke into another hysterical sob, hiccups and all.

  After the nurse dropped a box of tissues next to Winston and left the room, John moved to the edge of the hospital bed. The bastard sported a couple of black eyes, stitches on his cheek, and a swollen lip. Tears streamed down his pale face as he darted his eyes between him and Roy.

  “It’s true, isn’t it?” Winston sniveled and reached for a tissue, then blew his raw nose.

  “What’s true?” John asked.

  Winston tugged on the handcuff secured to the bedrail. “I woke up and...and...oh God, I—” More crying, moaning, and nose blowing.

  John glanced at Roy, who gave him an encouraging nod. Not that he’d need any encouragement. He’d take advantage of Winston’s vulnerable state to obtain what he wanted. Answers.

  “Do you know where you are?” he asked, then placed a mini tape recorder on the night stand next to the bed and hit record.

  “The hospital,” Winston groaned as he wadded the tissue in his hand.

  “What’s your full name?” he asked.

  “Garrett Alan Winston.”

  He then asked Winston if he knew who was president, the current year and all that bullshit. He wanted to be certain Winston was cognitive enough for interrogation.

  He answered everything perfectly.

  “Good,” John said with an encouraging smile. “You refused an attorney when you were arrested. Would you like one now?”

  Please say no. He didn’t want to have to wait any longer than they already had to question Winston.

  “No attorney can save me now. Only...God,” he mumbled, while tears streamed down his face, catching in his beard.

  John doubted that. For what Winston had done, he’d likely burn in hell for an eternity—at least he hoped so. On the bright side, Winston’s coming to Jesus moment could help speed up the process. He’d questioned prisoners who’ve gone through this before, and they’d always been eager to confess all of their dirty secrets in their search for redemption.

  “Do you remember how you ended up in the hospital?”

  Winston’s chin trembled, his lips quivered as new tears sprung from his eyes. “Hoyt, one of the guards at the county jail, was bringing me food. The next thing I knew he was trying to stick a needle in me.”

  “What happened next?”

  “I don’t know,” Winston howled, as he swiped his face with the back of his hand. “I...reacted. Him or me, that’s all I thought, and then...is he okay?”

  “No, he’s dead.”

  Winston became a slobbering mess.

  “Get it together,” Roy shouted, surprising both him and Winston. “Tell us what happened. Otherwise we’re adding cop killer to your résumé.”

  “No, you don’t understand,” he yelled as he grabbed at the box of tissues. “I didn’t mean...”

  “Garrett, you reacted in self-defense.” John kept his tone calm, hoping to keep Winston from becoming hysterical again. “But we need to know what happened.”

  Drawing in a big breath, Winston leaned against the pillows, and nodded. “Like I said, Hoyt brought me food. He told me to wait on my bunk, so I did. After he dropped the tray on the table, he gave me a funny look and told me to remain seated. Then he moved, quick. Pulled something out of his pocket and came at me.” His chin trembled, but he kept hi
s composure. “I grabbed his wrist and fought him. When I realized what he was holding, I just got plain pissed.”

  “It came down to you or him.”

  “That’s right. So I did what I had to do and shoved the needle in his neck. Next thing I know, I’ve got three guards on me, hitting me with their clubs.” He closed his eyes. “Now here I am, wishing I’d let Hoyt put me out of my misery.”

  At this point, John thought about bringing up the four women they were certain Winston had killed. But they already had enough evidence on those murders to put him away for four lifetimes. He couldn’t bring up the unsolved murders they’d been working on until all of the law enforcement agencies submitted their DNA reports to Rachel, who would then send them out for comparison. That left him with Courtney and Lauren’s murders and Winston’s partner.

  “Why do you think Hoyt tried to kill you?” John asked.

  “I have no idea.”

  “Really? You don’t have any enemies? Anyone that would like to see you dead? Anyone that might be worried you know something you’re not supposed to?”

  Winston hesitated, then shook his head.

  “Don’t pussyfoot around, tell him,” Roy said.

  Winston whipped his gaze to Roy. “Tell me what?”

  John looked to the sheriff, knowing he was right. Enough time had been wasted. “Garrett, Hoyt was blackmailed into killing you.”

  Winston’s red-rimmed eyes flickered with pain and betrayal before fresh tears spilled from them. “That don’t make no sense.”

  “That’s what we thought at first, until we found two more victims.”

  “One of them had been sodomized before being gutted and tossed in a lake,” Roy said, his tone dripping with disgust. “The other had been found near the mill in Tilden. You know the place don’t you? ‘Cause according to Booker Foods, Tilden was part of your truck route.”