by Erin Wade
“I don’t think so,” Penny snorted.
“Just do it Penny,” Java advised. “We’ll get out of here quicker.”
Penny plopped down into the chair and glared at her blonde friend.
Loud talking in the hallway caused everyone to look toward the door as the Crowley Sheriff and a couple of deputies entered the room.
“Dr. Short,” the sheriff addressed Penny, “You need to come with us.”
“Are you arresting her?” Java asked stepping between Penny and the sheriff.
“Lord no,” the sheriff blurted. “We’ve found the crime scene you were looking for last night. It’s one block down from the address you had.”
“Holy . . .” Penny bit her lip. “Have you secured it? Who found it? Java let’s get moving!”
Penny ignored the doctor and nurse with the wheelchair as she led the entourage from the room.
“Be sure she takes these,” the nurse pressed a couple of prescription containers into Java’s hand. “The instructions are on the bottles.”
##
Java pulled the van to the curb in front of a house that was a cookie cutter copy of the one they had entered the night before.
Blood covered the sidewalk and was smeared down the front door. Crime scene tape encircled the perimeter of the yard. The sheriff and his deputies joined Penny and Java as they stepped from the coroner’s van.
“When we saw the bloody sidewalk and door, we immediately threw up the crime scene tape,” the sheriff explained proudly. “No one has entered the house. We took every precaution to preserve the scene for you.”
“I appreciate that,” Penny smiled weakly.
“I’ll call in our team,” Java pulled her phone from her pocket.
“We can work it ourselves,” Penny frowned handing Java the requisite blue shoe covers. “It will take them two to three hours to get here. Let’s go room by room. You video and I’ll take photos. Let’s look at everything we see.”
Java nodded and mentally prepared herself for the odor they would encounter when she opened the door. They entered the living room that was undisturbed. It was clean and neat. The kitchen adjoined the living room on the left and two doors centered on the living room wall led to the rest of the house.
“I’ll take door number three,” Penny mimicked a gameshow contestant.
Java filmed the living room and kitchen area then videoed Penny as she opened the door leading into a long hallway. Penny froze at the sight in front of her, bowed her head then stepped aside so Java could film the blood bath in the hall.
“Oh my God!” Java croaked.
“Yes, but look at the perfect footprints,” Penny gushed, “and surely we can pull some decent prints from the writing on the wall.”
Java slowly panned down each wall and the hall coming to rest on the wall with the bloody writing.
“What does it say?” Penny asked.
“It’s a Bible verse,” Java exhaled and began to read. “Hosea 2:5: For their mother has played the whore; she who conceived them has acted shamefully. . .”
“Dear God,” Penny groaned. “Please don’t let this be a sanctimonious Bible thumper.”
“It’s the first motive we’ve found for all this carnage,” Java snorted trying to get the stench of blood out of her nose.
“Java, if I had a dollar for every crime committed in the name of religion, I’d be a wealthy woman,” Penny declared. “Religious fanatics are damn hard to catch because they are so certain they are doing God’s will they don’t act like the common criminal.”
“Chris may be right,” Java worried, “this may have something to do with the Christ’s Sanctity Church.”
Penny slid her arm from the sling and gasped at the pain as she grasped her camera with both hands.
“Give me that,” Java commanded. “You record your findings on audio, and I’ll take the photos and videos.”
Penny began recording her impressions of the hall and the handwriting on the wall. Java took photos and measurements on the footprints.
“I’m ready to view the bodies now,” Penny shivered as she opened the door covered in the most blood.
Java videoed her every move. “Four bodies,” Penny noted. “One Caucasian woman and three black children.”
Each body was stretched across the bed and placed side by side. Their arms were crossed across the usual voodoo doll placed on their chest and their skulls were crushed.
“Same MO as all the other murders, except for the bible verse,” Penny noted.
Java carefully videoed each body then stepped back so Penny could go to work while Java videoed.
“Time of death between midnight and two this morning,” Penny rattled off the specifics required of every evidentiary investigation. “Victims defaced beyond recognition. I’ll have to verify identity with fingerprints and DNA. The most damage is inflicted on the adult female. The killer has almost pulverized her head.”
Java zoomed in on each detail as Penny recorded her descriptions and collected fluid samples.
“I need a break,” Java scowled after three hours of videoing. “I need to call the team and let them know we’re still here.”
“Go on,” Penny smiled. “Call Kat. She’ll be worried about you.”
##
Java followed Penny from the house and wished she had some habit like smoking to take her mind off the scene behind her. Yeah, I’d light up, take a drag then blow the smoke into the air, and for two seconds I’d forget about what we’re dealing with, she thought. Instead she turned to her other addiction and dialed Kat’s number.
“Java, thank God,” Kat sighed. “Where are you?”
“Still in Crowley,” Java said. “We’re working a crime scene. We were at the wrong address last night. Today we’re in nightmare land.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” Kat demanded.
“Penny wanted to jump right on it. She insisted that we do it ourselves and not call in the team.” Java explained. “And honestly this has been the most thorough crime scene investigation I’ve been involved in. Penny’s a slave driver.
“We’ve completed our examination of the bodies and will dismantle the sinks, showers and commodes to see if we can find any DNA from the killer.”
“All hell has broken loose here,” Kat advised her. “Apparently the Crowley sheriff felt compelled to report the death of Raymond Latour on the local news station and Budro’s attorney is calling for a hiatus in the trial saying that Raymond, not Budro, is The Basher.”
“I expected that,” Java groaned.
“Java!”
“Humm?”
“Please hurry home,” Kat pleaded. “I . . . I miss you.”
“I miss you too, honey.” Java murmured.
##
It was almost sundown when Java closed and locked the back doors of the van. Her growling stomach reminded her she hadn’t eaten all day. Penny must be dying, she thought as her hand closed around the prescription bottles in her jacket pocket.
“First things first,” Java said fastening her seatbelt. “We’re going to find a place to get a good meal and you’re going to take the meds the doctor prescribed for you.”
“We’re close to Fezzo’s Seafood and Steakhouse,” Penny groaned. “Is that okay with you?”
“Right now, I could eat anything,” Java grumbled shifting the van into drive. “I can’t believe we didn’t stop long enough to feed you and give you your meds.”
“That’s as close to a decent meal as we’ll get,” Penny gestured toward a flat roofed, rambling building featuring a huge sign trumpeting, “FEZZO’S.” A square, lighted marque sign hawked the “Trucker’s Special of the Day.”
They parked the van and Java steadied Penny as they entered the restaurant. Both ordered coffee and Java pushed the large basket of hushpuppies toward Penny. “Eat three or four of these,” she instructed. “It says not to take the meds on an empty stomach.”
“I hope one of them is for pain,” Penny g
roaned.
“Yeah, it is,” Java nodded shaking two of the pain pills into her hand along with an antibiotic and handing them to Penny.
Penny’s pale, haggard face reflected the pain she was beginning to experience since the adrenaline rush of the murder scene had drained away.
Java waited until the pills started to take affect then broached the subject that had been driving her crazy since yesterday.
“Penny what’s going on?” Java asked. “Raymond Latour didn’t have a speck of blood on him last night. He couldn’t possible butcher four people and be so spotless.”
“I know,” Penny sighed. “This case has me chasing my own tail. Nothing about it makes sense.”
They finished their meal in silence and ordered coffee to go.
Java settled Penny into the passenger’s seat and fastened her seatbelt. The ME was asleep by the time Java fastened her own seatbelt.
Java called Kat to let her know when they’d arrive in New Orleans. “I need to take Penny home with me tonight,” she informed the brunette. “She’s in no shape to be alone. She really overdid it today.”
Kat moaned into the phone. “I was hoping . . .”
“I know, baby,” Java grimaced. “So was I.”
Java couldn’t get her mind off the recent events. The death of Raymond Latour haunted her. She was surprised that Penny hadn’t questioned the circumstances surrounding the man’s demise.
The glow from The Big Easy lit up the night miles before Java reached New Orleans. She vaguely recalled how the town had gotten its nickname. Some gossip columnist in the sixties had compared New York with its frantic pace and bustling atmosphere to New Orleans’s easy going, laid back tempo writing that if New York was The Big Apple then New Orleans had to be The Big Easy. The moniker had been embraced by the citizens of Orleans and became the city’s descriptive name.
Java pulled the ME’s van under her house, rolled down her window and listened to the waves of Lake Pontchartrain wash against the shore.
Her home was an eighteen-hundred-square feet stilt house. Raised on pilings over the water, the front of the house hung over the lot while the back of the home with its wrap-around veranda jutted out over the waters of the lake. Java loved her home. Situated on an acre, it was private and peaceful.
She considered the problem of getting Penny up the stairs then decided the doctor could walk. She’s a tiny little thing, Java thought. If nothing else, I’ll carry her up.
She rolled up the van window, walked around to the passenger’s side of the vehicle, and opened the door. Penny stirred and looked around confused about her surroundings.
“It’s best you stay at my place tonight,” Java insisted. “You’re in no condition to stay alone.”
Penny didn’t argue. She didn’t have the strength. All she wanted to do was undress and crawl into bed.
Leaning heavily on Java, Penny managed to climb the stairs to the house. Java led her to the guest bedroom pointing out the bathroom and fresh linens.
“I’ll be right outside,” Java said. “Just call if you need help and I’ll come running.”
Java walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a cold beer. She twisted the cap off the bottle of Shiner Bock and took a long drink of the cool liquid. She walked to the expansive windows overlooking the lake and realized she hadn’t thought about the murder case since her arrival home.
My happy place, she thought. The only thing missing is Kat.
The guestroom door opened. “I’m going to bed now,” Penny informed her as Java pulled a bottle of water from the fridge and the prescription bottles from her pocket.
“You must take another round of these,” Java advised as she shook the pills from the bottles, handed them to Penny and held out the water.
Penny downed the pain pills and antibiotics then stumbled back into the guestroom. Java followed with her water. “I’ll leave this on the night table in case you get thirsty,” she smiled.
Penny climbed into bed and mumbled, “Good night.”
Java silently closed the door to Penny’s room, retrieved her Shiner from the kitchen table and headed for the dock.
Java pulled her jacket tighter around her as she inhaled the crisp cool November air. Fish arched out of the water then splashed back into the river. She sat down on the edge of the dock dangling her feet over the water. Her thoughts went to Kat.
She loved working for the FBI but had been giving serious thought to leaving the agency. The rule forbidding affairs between coworkers was constantly niggling in the back of her mind. She knew she and Kat would be fired if anyone ever found out they were together.
Java sensed it before she felt it. The scent wafted to her on a gentle breeze. She tensed in anticipation of the touch that always accompanied the fragrance. A soft hand rested on her shoulder. “It’s me,” Kat said softly.
“I know,” Java reached for her hand and pulled Kat to sit down beside her.
Kat dangled her long legs over the water and leaned against Java’s shoulder. “Did you sense me or smell my perfume?” she giggled taking a drink of Java’s Shiner.
“Both,” Java put her arm around the brunette and pulled her into her side. “I was hoping you’d come. Penny’s dead to the world.”
“Then why are we wasting time sitting on this dock?” Kat turned up her face for a kiss. “I’d much rather be in your bed.”
CHAPTER 31
A slit of sunlight fell across Java’s closed eyes as she reached for the woman who had filled her night with fireworks, but Kat was gone. Maybe I dreamed it, Java thought.
The sounds from the kitchen and the smell of coffee made her smile. Kat was cooking breakfast. Java hurriedly showered and dressed in jeans and a Henley. Again, she thought about leaving the FBI. She wanted to wake up next to Kat every morning for the rest of her life. She decided she’d broach the subject with Kat when this case was over.
Penny was sitting at the kitchen island drinking coffee when Java entered. Kat poured a cup of the dark liquid into an oversized cup and placed it on the counter. Java fought the urge to pull Kat into her arms and kiss her soundly. Instead she picked up the cup and grinned at the brunette over the rim of the cup as she inhaled the coffee.
“Penny, did you take your meds this morning?” Java asked.
“As soon as I eat something,” Penny shifted on the stool and moaned. “Believe me, I’m ready for a pain pill.”
Java took a gulp of her coffee then moved to the counter to put bread into the toaster as Kat began plating their eggs and bacon.
##
“I’ll clean up the kitchen,” Java said, “while you two get ready to face the day.”
Suddenly the phones of the three women started ringing.
“Damn,” Penny cursed. “Please don’t let this be what I think it is.”
Java answered her phone. “Java put me on speaker,” Beau ordered. “Are you with Penny and Kat?”
“Yes,” Java replied as she pushed the button to allow everyone to hear Beau’s voice.
“We’ve got another bashing,” Beau informed them. “Lake Charles. Five bodies were found around nine this morning. I’m on my way with Chris and Barbie. We’ll meet you there.”
“Beau, that’s three massacres in three days,” Java gasped. “This guy is on a feeding frenzy. We’ve got to stop him.”
“I’m very aware of that, Java,” Beau barked. “I’ve had my butt chewed on by so many people this morning I feel like a free buffet at Mardi Gras. I’m sure you’ll receive a call from Karen as soon as I release your line.”
Penny moved stiffly as she headed for the guest room.
“Penny that’s a three-hour trip,” Java said handing Penny her meds. “Are you sure you can make it?”
“You’d have to knock me out to leave me behind,” Penny declared.
##
Kat piled pillows into the back seat of the van making Penny as comfortable as possible then covered her with a light blanket.
“
You should get as much rest as you can,” Kat advised. “Sooner or later that gunshot wound is going to stop you.”
Penny was sleeping by the time they pulled onto the interstate. Kat took the opportunity to grill Java.
“Tell me about the last two days?” Kat said. “All hell broke loose here. Karen called us in and read us the riot act for our failure to catch The Basher.
“Your shooting Raymond Latour sent Budro’s attorney into a media storm. He’s been on every news show imaginable declaring Budro’s innocence. He’s saying Penny manipulated the DNA evidence to implicate Budro when all along it was his son with similar DNA.”
“Yeah, similar being the key word,” Java scowled. “He knows Penny didn’t screw up.”
“It’s a good thing she had an independent lab run tests on Budro’s clothes,” Kat noted.
“Penny’s a sharp cookie,” Java added. “She knew this would turn into a crap shoot, so she covered her butt and ours too.”
Kat was studying a map on her iPad.
“Java don’t you think it unusual that we found no tire tracks at any of the murder scenes?” Kat asked. “There is a geographical pattern to the killings. All the murders have occurred along the Union Pacific Railroad Line and have been perpetrated on victims within walking distance of the railroad stations. I know this sounds crazy, but could our killer be riding the train from New Orleans to the crime scene?”
“It’s possible,” Java agreed, “but how do they conceal the ax. The overall weapon is about thirty inches long. More importantly, the killer would be drenched in blood. You know the blood splatter from one person would cover the killer. Four or five victims would turn his clothes scarlet.”
“What if they were naked and wore only coveralls?” Kat persisted. “We’ve found evidence that the killer showers after each kill. What if they wear something that covers them from head to toe, stripped that off and bagged it in a trash bag then showered and put on clean clothes. That is doable. They could dispose of the trash bag anywhere along the way back to the train station.”
“You are on to something,” Java enthused. “That would explain why no one has seen any vehicles at the crime scenes. We have assumed the killer is driving a car. Call the Lake Charles police and see if they will search all the dumpsters at the railroad station and anything between the station and the crime scene”
