by Dale Mayer
Tavika! Tavi! The harsh whisper slammed into her brain, jolting her wake. She didn’t know who had just spoken, but there’d been such insistence to the voice that she had no way to ignore it. She lay quietly trying to figure out what was so different. First, she was held in a man’s arms. Secondly, she knew it was Jericho without even having to look. And lastly, there was a raw ache inside. As if she’d been to hell and back emotionally. That’s when she remembered last night’s trip to the abyss and Jericho’s subsequent assistance in getting her back on her feet.
Tavika, forget about that. You have to give up the hunt for the Ghost.
“Travis, I am too tired for this.” Then his words hit. She bolted upright, disentangling herself from Jericho’s gentle attempt to tug her back into his arms. “Why Travis, what’s different?”
He’s hunting.
She waved her hand in a dismissive motion. “He’s always hunting, what’s different now?”
Besides the fact that he’s back in town and hunting in his own playground? Travis snapped.
She shook her head. “He’s been here for the last couple of days. What’s changed?” She kept her voice low and insistent.
I saw a list, he admitted.
“A list?” She felt stupid for asking but for someone who’d woken her up, he wasn’t being very forthcoming.
Yes, a list.
But he would not say more. She hopped to her feet and stared at her small apartment. “Dammit, Travis, what was on the list?
I couldn’t read everything but there were names. And your name was on it. You were in the middle. There was a whole pile of lines crossed off the top. For all I know you’re next. You can’t let him get you. You have to leave town.
She came to a standstill in the middle of the room.
“Travis, I’ve never seen you like this. Why is this upsetting you?” She struggled to understand the panic. “You knew he was coming. You’ve been fixated on him since forever.”
Yes, but I didn’t know he was coming now. I thought maybe he’d be coming when you were old and gray for heaven sakes, Travis shouted.
His voice drumming through her ears, she spun and stared at the front door. “Now? Is he on his way here now?”
Frustration rolled through Travis’s voice. You’re been deliberately obtuse. He’s in town, he’s knocking names off the list and your name is on it.
“Okay,” she said in a soothing voice. “See if you can get a picture of the man so I can identify him. Or if you see the list try to read the names so we can save a life next time.”
You don’t understand. I saw the list, he cried. There are a couple names above yours. But it also looks like he’s marked off a couple of names below yours. So he’s not doing this in sequence.
“Oh shit,” she murmured out loud. “Well that explains your panic. Maybe.”
What was the chance he was taking out survivors? She frowned. Or potential witnesses of previous crimes? Potential in his eyes… That didn’t mean the police knew about them… That could explain why they all seemed so unrelated.
Maybe these people had been somebody he felt were a threat. Maybe they were connected in one way or another to him or his crimes. That would make it all that much harder because they weren’t even sure exactly how many people he murdered. But this gave her a hell of a starting point. She was sure Henderson from the FBI would like to see that list too.
“Thank you, Travis.” She looked down at her watch and checked the time. Six. She needed to be at her files. She brought up her computer, gave a quick glance to Jericho making sure he was still asleep and logged onto her office computer. Somehow somewhere there was a connection from these people to the Ghost.
As they didn’t have a name for the Ghost she was going to have to search for a violent crime in each of these people’s lives. Excitement rippled through her blood and nerves, knowing something was there. If she could only find more. She called out to the empty room, “Travis? You there? Did you see any other names? If you get a chance try to find me another name on the list.”
There was only silence in the room and then Jericho’s sleepy voice murmured from the bed, “Tavika, you okay?”
She called back, “I’m fine. My brother just suggested something about the Ghost. I’m working the lead now.”
He stumbled to his feet, rubbing the sleep from the corners of his eyes but his gaze was sharp. Hard.
“What have you got?”
“A line to tug,” she said. “I was searching for connections between the victims. But what I needed to be doing was searching for a violent crime in each of their lives. Travis saw a list. He suggested the killer was cleaning up, eliminating those people. And although the Ghost isn’t taking out the victims in order, Travis said that many names had been crossed off. He thinks the victims are a danger to the Ghost so he’s cleaning up.”
She sensed his unanswered questions, but she wanted him just to hold off. Her fingers were dancing on the keyboard as she started searches. A thought occurred to her, and she said, “Any chance Anna is related to the Ghost?”
He shook his head. “There’s no way to know at this point. But she’s not his typical victim, and it appeared there was a relative involved in this one.”
She nodded. “I’m working Gordon’s case. I know him the best.”
“And yet as a homeless man he could have seen any number of things or been thought to be a threat when he was actually not.”
“Which would explain why it was hard to connect these people. It also explains why my name is on that list. Because I saw him back then.”
“In fact,” Jericho said smoothly, “you’re the only witness any of us have.”
She shot him a hard look. “The condition I was in didn’t make me a witness. If anything it left me barely capable of speaking for months.”
He nodded in understanding. “But you do realize how unusual you are in that way.”
“Only in that I lived through his torture. Whereas all of these people may not have a clue as to what they saw. But it doesn’t matter to him. He’s taking them out anyway.”
*
Her theory worked. He’d seen it happen before. The Ghost was making sure nothing and nobody would be able to tie him to his old crimes. That often happened if killers got married, moved up in life or some major change occurred making them fearful of being exposed. And people that were safe at first were no longer now that he was reassessing.
What they needed was proof. Not conjecture. And he wanted to ask her about her brother. Actually there were one thousand questions bursting through his head.
She stood up abruptly. “I have to go to the office. I’m having trouble with my computer and login.”
She put on her holster and grabbed her jacket and badge. “I’ll call you if I find out anything.”
And she was gone just like that.
He sat down to read the screens that were still up. Solomon jumped up onto his lap. Absentmindedly, he scanned the information. She was looking for violent crimes in Gordon’s past. And of course, in Gordon’s case there were more than a few.
He’d had several confrontations with the police, a few complaints about and from him and he’d been beaten up once. He’d had people steal from him and groups torment him. Although nothing that appeared to be big enough worth killing over even if he’d seen something. He wouldn’t have been a witness because his testimony would’ve been unreliable. The drugs and booze had taken so much of his mind already nobody would trust him on the stand.
As he sat there, Jericho wondered if Maggs knew more. Would she talk to him? It was morning, the sun was rising and it was still early. He put on a pot of coffee, filled the travel mug and thought maybe it would be worth a try. He sent Hunter a quick update on last night, said he’d try to get Tavika to track Anna in a few hours. She was so focused on the Ghost he didn’t think she could take her attention off that right now. It sucked but there was only so much energy anybody had. Tavika’s life was inundated wi
th murder cases. There wasn’t going to be one that was any more important over another.
Then he remembered the words she’d asked of Travis while he pretended to be asleep only to watch as she spoke to the empty room. She’d asked if there was a name on that list they could save, instead of finding them dead. Meaning she would prioritize a life over death. So Anna was the priority. Or would be if they had any proof she was alive.
Walking briskly in the morning chill, Jericho made his way to Maggs’ corner. He didn’t want to scare her, but was afraid that given her age and health anything could happen at any time. He stood in the corner of the park and called out gently, “Maggs, you there? I’m a friend of Tavika’s. I have a couple questions about Gordon for you.” Silence, but there was a rustling underbrush as if she was moving.
“Maggs?” He took several steps forward, looking to see if any of her friends were around. Several slept off to the side. He didn’t want to disturb them. Maggs was just off to the left. He approached slowly. “Maggs?” There was a tiny snuffle, almost a grunt. “Do you remember me?”
Her faint voice echoed, “I remember you.”
There wasn’t the same joy or trust in her voice. Well who could blame her?
“I brought you some coffee.” She opened those ancient eyes to stare up at him. Then she nudged her cup toward him. He crouched down, took the lid off and filled it. In a quiet voice he said, “I didn’t mean to disturb you. I was hoping you were awake. I’m wondering if you know anything about Gordon’s history. Do you know if he ever witnessed a violent crime?”
Eyes black as the night blinked at him several times.
He rushed to clarify. “I don’t mean his war days. I mean since he’s been on the streets. Or even before that.”
“It’s what sent him to the streets.” She reached out a greedy hand and brushed at the steam wafting up from her cup.
He stepped back slightly. “What do you mean?”
“He came home from the war disillusioned, hurting, and angry. But it wasn’t long after his return he was frustrated with the government, with not being able to find a job. His health issues were getting worse.” She stopped and had several nasty chest rattling coughs before she hacked up a big plug of sputum.
He waited. It was no good pushing her. She was only going to say what she wanted to.
When she finally cleared her throat she lay back down gasping. “Gordon saw a murder. He said at the time there was a whole family slaughtered. But then he changed his story, saying only some of the family were killed. Then he started talking about ghosts and the devil. The police didn’t believe him, but it ate at him. He thought coming home would be different. He thought he’d be safe here. But instead, he said the war had come home with him.” She sighed and reached for the cup. “I think he blamed himself. In his confusion with the drugs, the PTSD, and everything else going on, he felt if he’d stayed over there the family would still be alive. But because he came home he brought the war with him and the people dying were his fault.”
At her mention of a family and then ghosts he nodded. “Any idea how long ago this was?”
She waved her hand. “A long time ago, ten, twenty years maybe. Gordon has been on the street as long as I’ve known him. We met not long after it happened. It’s all he could talk about. He needed medical help. But to the eyes of the world he was nobody, just a washed out, no longer useful man. And there was nothing and no one available to help him.”
“Did Gordon know who the family was or where the murder happened? Do you know any details so I could possibly track that murder?”
She sank down into a pile of rags, more bone than meat, her skin thin, translucent. Evidence she was not of this world for much longer. He figured she’d be happy to stay where she was rather than go into a hospital and accept society’s brand of geriatric care for the end of her life. She closed her eyes, and her breathing sank deeper and deeper.
“Maggs? Do you have any recollection of who the family was?”
And in the way of so many people who don’t understand the meaning behind the knowledge they have, she shook her head. “Not much. It made the headlines because the mother was a psychic. That much I remember, thought it was funny because if she was, how come she couldn’t protect herself?”
She curled up and with her hands tucked under her cheek, she drifted off to sleep, the hot coffee cooling beside her.
Chapter 24
Tavika walked out of the captain’s office heading back downstairs. She’d explained what had happened with her login again. They had to wait for the IT department to show up as it was way too early for them to be here. It used to be they had someone on twenty-four hours a day, but that was before all the budget cuts. Still, she had a spare laptop. An unusual step but she needed to be working. At her desk, she cleared a spot and logged in on the new machine. As she sorted her emails, her phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket and answered absently, “Hello.
“Tavika? It’s Jericho. I just spoke with Maggs. She said Gordon witnessed a violent crime ten to twenty years ago and that was partly why he was on the streets. He was afraid he was guilty for bringing the war home.”
“What?” She leaned back, pinching the bridge of her nose. It was one thing that Maggs actually spoke with Jericho. It was another to think she held important information on Gordon. Why hadn’t she thought to ask her about that? “What else did she have to say?”
Jericho relayed the conversation. Then he said, “Psychic gets murdered…”
And her stomach lurched. She clamped her hand over her mouth. Dear God. She bent over quickly, dropping her head between her knees, trying to calm the heaves rattling her system. But her stomach wouldn’t be still.
“Tavika, you okay?”
Was she okay? She would be. She was a pro at hiding shit. “I’m fine. It was a shock. That’s all.” No, that was too bland a word for the visceral reaction in her gut. As if there was a disconnect from her mind to her body. One making excuses and the other still recovering from it. “I’m fine. Interesting headline…” She was proud her voice was calm even though her nerves were shot.
“I know but it’s also a connection.”
That it was. She hung up from Jericho to study Gordon’s files in front of her. Could he really have seen the Ghost? There was no mention of him being a witness anywhere. She brought out the old case files and statements, but Gordon’s name wasn’t listed. By protocol every call, complaint, and witness was checked out. Because no one ever really knew who had valuable information.
But she also knew there were lots of crazies in the world. Regardless the statements should have been logged in and registered. That didn’t mean that their statements were kept for twenty years. What was kept before the digital age was much different than what was now.
But even now there were some statements people ignored, like those from psychics. There was a major stigma against them, except in her mother’s case she’d done a lot of work for law enforcement. Needing to know for sure she reopened the files and searched for Gordon’s name. Then for the term psychic. Still not finding anything she went through all the witnesses’ statements. But there was nothing to show the police had kept Gordon’s.
She didn’t know if it would have made any difference back then, but it had obviously traumatized him. Had he actually seen the Ghost? Had he known him? Did he recognize him?
Surely if he had he’d have said something during all these years. But as she looked back on the time she’d known Gordon his downward spiral had been consistent. His mental stability more fragile by the month. If Gordon had seen something the fear and guilt would have sent him further downhill.
What a life for a vet. Feeling guilty for a war he hadn’t created. Feeling inadequate for the job he’d done. Feeling like there was nothing more for him…
She cast her mind back to the events twenty years ago, wondering if anyone in the neighborhood had known. At the time she hadn’t understood how anybody could not have. Ther
e were houses all around. There had been enough screaming going on that she swore houses ten blocks over had heard. It was only later that she realized originally a sound engineer had lived there, and he’d built a recording studio in the basement. Where they’d all been kept. Where their screams had gone unheard.
There were new luxury high rises just a few blocks over, but they were new developments. Most of the neighboring houses on this side were empty. A definite case of a wrong side of the tracks neighborhood. By accident or design she didn’t know, but it was good news for the Ghost. It had given him a playing field that would’ve been difficult to arrange on his own.
But she also understood serial killers. They were capable of adapting and making good use of circumstances. Some needed everything perfect to make their fantasy work. They had to follow developed rituals.
She’d been unconscious for a lot of the time during her captivity, but not all of it. She hadn’t seen any sign of repetitive or ritualistic behavior with the Ghost. But she’d been young and traumatized. She didn’t know there’d been set behaviors to look for. Even during her law enforcement training she’d realized he didn’t fit the boxes the psychologists had for guys like him.
She stared at her notes. This meant there was a connection from Gordon to the Ghost. And somehow the Ghost must have known.
So was there also a connection to the old man and the girl? The woman in the trunk Tavika wasn’t willing to include into the bunch because she could have been at the wrong place at the wrong time? But she wouldn’t discount the possibility either.
They’d screwed up the Ghost’s plans that night.
Maybe the woman had died because of that. Making a note to herself she opened her files looking for a connection from the old man to the Ghost.
Opening her phone she dialed his granddaughter’s number.
After the woman answered, Tavika quickly identified herself and said, “We are looking into your grandfather’s death. I’m trying to see if there is a connection with a couple of other murders.” She winced at the woman’s gasp of shock. “Did your grandfather have any exposure to another violent crime in the past?”
