In His Sights

by Jo Davis

  The real victim was sprawled in the middle of the mess on the living room floor, next to the mangled coffee table. The man appeared to be about seventy years old and was wearing jeans and a polo shirt. He was lying in a huge pool of blood that spread from his abdomen, head turned to the side, eyes wide and sightless.

  Chris looked around. “I don’t see a murder weapon yet.”

  “Me, neither. Could be underneath his body. We’ll have to wait for Eden.”

  Walking into the kitchen, Chris examined a stack of mail, all addressed to the same man. “Edward Burke. He’s got junk, bills, and a social security check. His wallet is on the table.” Picking it up, he examined the contents carefully. “It has more than a hundred dollars cash inside.”

  “So, assuming nothing else is missing, it would appear that robbery is not the motive.”

  “Seems so, which is weird.”

  “Right? Why break in if not to steal something?” Tonio frowned as he took in the scene.

  “Reminds me of what Mr. Fell told us about the burglary at his home. Front entry in broad daylight, items moved slightly but nothing taken.” Retracing his steps to the open front door, Chris examined the doorframe and was gratified to see deep gouges in the wood.

  “Bingo. Our perp jimmied the door.”

  Tonio pointed to a couple of items on a side table that had survived the scuffle. “This picture and the figurine beside it were moved. See the dust?”

  He walked over to examine them. “Yep. What the hell is he getting out of this? And why commit murder over a simple break and enter? Why not just run away when he heard the owner come home?”

  “Beats me. But we’re gonna find out when we bust his ass and toss him in prison.”

  A search of the rest of the house turned up zilch. As they exited to stand on the front porch, Jenk hurried, waving an arm.

  “We found something back here you’ll want to see.”

  Curious, Chris followed. The other officer, Troy Hillman, was already there, standing next to a grassy patch beyond the borders of the yard. When Chris drew closer, Hillman pointed to a slender object on the ground.

  It was a small glass vial with a rubber top and a tiny hole for a needle to be pushed into, the kind one might find in a doctor’s office. Crouching, he saw it was almost full of clear liquid. Rolling it gently with a latex-covered finger, he saw there was no label.

  “Over here, too,” Jenk said, hitching a thumb.

  A few feet away from the vial was a syringe. The cap was still on, and unlike the vial, there was nothing in the reservoir. Chris speculated out loud. “Doesn’t look like it’s been used. Wonder if our suspect dropped these. Could be he broke in the front, crept around doing whatever he does, was surprised by the home owner, and they fought. He killed the victim and fled around the back, dropping these.”

  “It’s as good a theory as any,” Tonio said. “The vial and syringe might shed some light on what his game is.”

  “Or they could add more questions.” Chris sighed. “Let’s bag ’em.”

  Tonio pulled a couple of baggies from his pants pocket and sealed them separately. By the time they’d walked back to the front, Medical Examiner Laura Eden and the department’s forensics unit were on-site doing their thing. Chris and Tonio went inside the house again to watch Eden work, asking her questions now and then but staying out of her way.

  After she’d cataloged all of the evidence she could get from the body—at least until she did the autopsy and further tests—she gestured for them.

  “Help me roll the body, and we’ll take a look at the wound.” She waited until Chris and Tonio were positioned on opposite sides of the dead man before nodding. “Now.”

  They rolled him over carefully, and then stood back to let Eden work. The woman was a machine, a brilliant scientist who missed nothing, and most everyone Chris knew admired her. She was real easy on the eyes, too, though Chris had never been interested her in that way.

  She cut the polo shirt away and hummed, peering at the wound. “Knife wound, large blade, very sharp. See the edges here?”

  Chris’s stomach got a bit queasy, and he marveled at how she could remain so clinical. Some guys joked about her icy calm, but Chris believed she really could eat a sandwich while performing an autopsy, if she were ever inclined to be that unprofessional.

  Tonio spoke up. “So, our vic wasn’t shot.”

  “Nope.”

  “And he fought like Mike Tyson,” she observed, picking up one hand to study it. “He did some damage to these knuckles, and to whoever was on the receiving end of them. Tough old guy, and in pretty good shape for a man his age. Too bad the killer fought dirty.”

  “Yeah.” Poor bastard.

  “Wonder if he’s former military, or law enforcement?” Tonio speculated aloud.

  Chris gestured toward the kitchen. “I saw an envelope from the American Bar Association on the table, addressed to him. Could be a lawyer, if our victim is Edward Burke, that is.”

  There wasn’t much more to do except get the victim loaded and let the crime scene techs do their thing. After Eden had taken the body and gone, he and Tonio watched the techs work for a while, then made their exit.

  “Something doesn’t sit right about this whole thing,” Chris told his partner. “The burglaries, and now a dead guy. We have a few giant pieces of the puzzle missing, and this feels more disjointed than usual.”

  “And when we put them together, the solution will be so obvious, we’ll be kicking ourselves.”

  “Maybe so.” He eyed the other man. “Sounds like you have some experience in that area.”

  “More than I’d like.”

  Chris waited for him to elaborate on that cryptic statement, but let it alone when he didn’t. As much as he wanted to know more about his partner, he’d respect the man’s privacy.

  His thoughts drifted back to Robyn and he wondered whether he’d ever hear from her again. And whether he should stop walking by her house.

  No. If she wanted him to back off, she’d have to tell him to his face.

  Satisfied with that plan, he focused on feeling better. One hour at a time.

  It had to get better. Worse was a scenario he didn’t want to think about.

  * * *

  The young man huddled in the corner of his room, terrified.

  Dried blood coated his hands, and was starting to itch. But he wrapped his arms around his knees and made himself small. Maybe small enough to disappear?

  But no. They’d find him. They always did, and there was hell to pay then. Always.

  They’d make him cry and there was nobody who cared. He wanted to be held, to be safe, but he was ignored. Left to suffer alone and bear the brunt of their wrath. To scream while the blows rained down and the demon took off his belt. Made him beg and scream more.

  “No!”

  The sharp sound of his own voice had him looking around, frantically searching for him. But he was long gone and the boy was left in the here and now, with nothing but his broken mind for company. The fear and the anger. The knowledge that he hadn’t deserved this, and they all needed to pay.

  Nobody had helped him. Not a single one of the caring professionals who were supposed to save kids from monsters. Not the principal, the teachers, the counselor, the lawyer. Not the doctor, next-door neighbor, or countless others who should’ve stepped in. Not even the cop.

  Especially not him.

  Dad cracked open the door and talked in soft, persuasive tones to the cop as he crept closer, heart pounding in his thin chest. This was it, the moment he’d been praying for. After the latest beating, he’d finally summoned the courage to call 9-1-1.

  He peered around the corner—and fear seized his lungs.

  The cop’s eyes met his, over his dad’s shoulder. A slight smirk tilted the corner of the man’s mouth, and
then he returned his attention to the other man. What was that about? Couldn’t he see the busted lip, the torn clothes, the bruises? Just to be sure, the little boy stepped into full view of the officer.

  But the cop never looked his way again. Instead, he closed his hand around a wad of bills pressed into his palm. And then he turned and walked away without a backward glance.

  Dad had nearly killed him afterward.

  That had been the day he’d truly lost hope. When the son of a bitch had walked away, that had been the end. The last slam of the cell door. The moment he knew: You’re in hell and never getting out. Nobody cares.

  Unfortunately, that cop was gone from the earth long before his plans for revenge had taken flight. But then he’d spotted Detective Ford. The man looked so much like that other cop he’d known it was meant to be.

  Ford was the perfect substitute. If the original sinner had already escaped him through death, a stand-in would do. They were all alike anyway.

  Pushing himself to his feet, he walked on trembling legs to the bathroom. There, he scrubbed his hands, watching blood and soap suds swirl down the drain. He’d made a bad mistake. It wasn’t supposed to be like that, quick and easy. Yes, it was messy, but the bastard didn’t suffer! Well, only for a minute. But not nearly enough.

  “Not like I’ve suffered my whole life!”

  He shouldn’t have risked another so soon; he shouldn’t have gotten impatient with the slow as shit pace his plans were progressing. He’d already taken measures to gain the attention of the authorities, and that should have been enough for now. He knew that. But the temptation had been too much to resist. All their pretty things! He loved looking at the riches he never had. Gazing upon the treasured mementos knowing he was going to crush the happiness they represented, just as his had been crushed.

  He’d almost been caught today. It would have been over much too soon.

  It had to end; he was cool with that. But he wasn’t ready. There was still so much more left to do.

  When he’d shown them all the error of their ways, he’d go gladly.

  And not one second before.

  4

  “Okay, are you going to tell me what has you in such a funk?” Shea asked.

  Sitting at the break room table, Robyn looked up from her unappetizing turkey sandwich and pretended not to have a clue what her friend was talking about. “The cafeteria food,” she quipped, poking at the hoagie roll. “I think I saw it move a second ago.”

  Pulling up a chair, Shea shot her friend a droll look. “Really? That’s the story you’re going with?”

  “Have you taken a look at the meat? It’s as gray as one of the cadavers we worked on in medical school.”

  “I don’t think your problem involves bad turkey. In fact, I happen to know someone who’s walking around lately with a very similar expression to yours.” Leaning back, Shea crossed her arms over her chest.

  Robyn’s heart did a funny little dance. “Who?”

  “Oh, come on,” her friend said with a snort. “Chris is moping around like he lost his best friend, which is very unlike him.”

  “That doesn’t mean it has anything to do with me.” Though she sort of hoped it did.

  “It’s you, trust me. I don’t think he’s ever heard the word no before. Women are usually throwing themselves at him.”

  That was an annoying thought. “First time for everything,” she muttered.

  Shea laughed. “You’ve got it so bad. You two are going to be a perfect match. I just know it.”

  “Um, we’ve only met a couple of times and I haven’t even agreed to go out with him.”

  “But you will!” She leaned forward. “You like him and he likes you, so let me ask—what the hell are you waiting for?”

  Some of the old hurt rose and she tamped it down with an effort. “You know why I don’t date, Shea. It’s been tough to let myself get too close to a man. Or anyone new at all, for that matter.”

  “I get that. But, honey, it’s not like he’s proposing marriage. What’s it going to hurt to have a meal with the man?”

  “I don’t know if—”

  “Look, at worst, you’ll hate each other, which I don’t think is going to happen. At best, you get closer to someone who could become a good friend and companion, maybe more. What do you have to lose?”

  “My peace of mind?”

  “Do you really have much of that?” Shea questioned gently. “You stand to gain so much more than you’d lose at this point. And you know, if we were talking about anyone but Chris, I wouldn’t be pushing. I know my cousin, and he’s solid gold.”

  Robyn bit her lip, thinking about everything her friend had said. “It’s not just me. I have to think about Maddy, too.”

  “Yes, and that’s understandable after what both of you have been through. But you can’t cushion her with bubble wrap. Didn’t she have a great time at the party the other day?”

  “She did.”

  “And didn’t she hit it off with Chris right away?”

  “Yes, and he was wonderful with her,” Robyn admitted. “She hasn’t stopped talking about him since.”

  “Well, there you go.”

  Doesn’t Maddy deserve an awesome man like that in her life? Don’t I?

  “Listen, I’ll think about it. That’s all I can promise right now.”

  Shea beamed at her, probably sensing Robyn was ready to cave. “That’ll do.”

  “So glad you approve.”

  Ignoring Robyn’s sarcasm, her friend pulled out her cell phone and sent a quick text. Immediately, Robyn’s phone vibrated and she saw that Shea had texted her Chris’s number.

  “That’s his cell,” Shea told her.

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  Then Shea launched into the most recent hospital gossip. Robyn, however, was listening with only half an ear while the other woman chattered about who was dating whom, hospital politics, and whether any money would be spent to improve the staff lounge. There wasn’t a ton of hope among the staff for the last item.

  By the time she and Shea departed and Robyn had thrown away her unfinished lunch, she’d come to a decision. One that involved making a phone call to a man she hoped hadn’t yet written her off.

  Checking her watch, she decided she had just enough time to find out if Chris was still interested. Excited, she hurried outside, pushing through a side door into a peaceful area sculpted to look like a garden. Visitors and staff alike were welcome to use it to take a break, gather their thoughts, or whatever they needed. It was currently unoccupied, and the perfect place for a private call.

  Quickly, she checked the text again and repeated the number to herself. Then she placed the call, waiting on pins and needles as it rang. A familiar voice answered on the third ring.

  “Detective Ford.”

  She tried to sound confident, not nervous, and wasn’t quite sure she succeeded. “Chris? This is Robyn. I hope it’s okay that Shea gave me your number.”

  “Oh, hey, Robyn! Of course, that’s more than okay.” He sounded really happy to hear from her, and that made her insides quiver. “So, does this mean you’ve done some thinking about having dinner with me?”

  “Yes, and I’d love to. If you’re still interested, that is.” There were those nerves, making an appearance and doing their best to rattle her composure.

  “You’re kidding, right?” He laughed. “I feel like I’ve just won the lottery.”

  Her face stretched into a broad smile. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “Believe me, I would. So, when are you free?”

  “I’m off tomorrow night, if that works.”

  “Perfect. What’s your favorite kind of food?”

  “I’m not picky,” she said honestly. “I can eat almost any kind of food except Indian. I can’t stand curry.”

  He
chuckled. “I’m with you there. How about I give it some thought and surprise you?”

  “Sounds fine.” Inside, she felt giddy. When was the last time she’d been surprised?

  “What about Maddy?” She tensed, but before she could say anything, he rushed to reassure her. “Don’t get me wrong, she’s more than welcome on our first date. I just need to know so I can choose accordingly.”

  He was officially too good to be true.

  “I’ll get a sitter,” she told him. “I’d like to get to know you before I bring her along.”

  “That’s more than fine. Pick you up at seven thirty?”

  “That will be great.”

  “All right, see you then, gorgeous.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Me, too.”

  She hung up, almost drunk on the rush. The pure joy. I did it. I’m going on a date with a handsome, charming man for the first time in two years.

  Well, longer than that if she was counting. Because it had been much longer than two years since Greg had been any kind of companion. She wasn’t going to think about that, though. Not when she finally had a nice evening to look forward to.

  Sticking her phone in her coat pocket, she walked back inside to see Shea and Lee, a male nurse, standing at the nurses’ station. They were talking, looking over a chart, Shea no doubt having to take the man in hand again for screwing something up. Honestly, Robyn didn’t know how much longer the director could put up with him. Shea spotted Robyn and then waved as she approached, giving her a tentative smile.

  “Well?”

  “Date, tomorrow night!”

  “That’s great.” Her friend gave her a brisk hug.

  “A date?” Lee studied the two women with a curious expression on his face.

  Shea let go of Robyn and made a face at him. “Yes, you know—two people go out and have dinner, maybe get some nooky for dessert?”

  “Shea!” Robyn’s face flamed. “Okay, this is where I get back to work. See you later.”

  “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Shea called out, looking downright smug.