Sinner Repent

by Morgan Kelley

  “Thanks for coming, Doc. I’m sorry to drag you out here in this sweltering heat, but I need your opinion.” He lifted the sheet that was covering the body. Immediately, Callie crouched down to examine the girl. “It’s Aimee Jo from the grocery store. She’s just a baby.”

  “Yep,” he said, anger filling his gut.

  “She can’t be more than seventeen.”

  “Exactly, and that’s part of the problem.” He watched her examine the girl’s hands and arms.

  “No defensive wounds, except for the ones on her raw wrists.” Then, her torso had Callie’s attention. “I see the next message for us is ‘Envy’.”

  “What does ‘pride’ and ‘envy’ have to do with each other?” he asked.

  She didn’t answer. Instead, Callie kept examining the body. “Do you have a flashlight that I can borrow, Sheriff?”

  “Yeah, I do.” He handed her the slim light, studying her every move. When she peered in the dead girl’s mouth, he was fascinated.

  Oh, yeah, she’d been a Fed.

  “She choked to death before they could kill her.”

  “How do you know?” he asked. This wasn’t news to him, but maybe a part of him was still testing the woman to see exactly how good she was at her old job. The crime techs already gave him a decent idea, and now she was backing it up.

  “Her mouth has traces of blood and vomit in it. Since her throat was cut so deeply, she wouldn’t have been able to be sick if he sliced her first.”

  Jimmy Lee stood there, a look of horror on his face as she kept talking.

  “My guess is that she woke up restrained, and when they shoved the gag in her mouth, she started to choke. As they taped it shut, Aimee Jo tried to swallow and the gag blocked her airway. Thus, we have my assessment on the vomit and asphyxiation.”

  “Her parents never noticed if she came home last night. Her father is a drunk, and Aimee Jo’s mother works the night shift. When Mrs. Wilkes returned home this morning, she saw that Aimee Jo’s car was missing and called the office. We found her vehicle at the grocery store, along with her purse and cellphone.”

  Callie could hear him getting mad, and she prayed that he could hold it together. They had a long day ahead of them and needed to focus.

  “The car’s battery was disconnected,” he said, right before he began pacing.

  There was something definitely intimidating about the man when he was angry. She didn't fear for her safety, but she could see that he was a powder keg with a very short fuse. At some point, he was likely to go off, unless she did something.

  “Can I talk to you in private?” she asked, motioning to the men all around them.

  “Yeah, sure.”

  Leading him a good distance away from their victim, they found a spot behind some trees. Callie faced him, and despite her three-inch heels, she still had to look up into his green eyes.

  “You can’t get mad over this. It’s not going to help her, or this case. Right now, we need to tell her parents what has happened, and then sit down to regroup. We’ll figure out what’s going on, but only if you stay calm.”

  He lowered his voice as he scanned the area. “I can’t help it if I’m getting mad, Doc. She was seventeen years old, and had her entire life ahead of her.”

  That she understood. “Yeah, but there’s nothing we could have done. You need to wait on the coroner’s report, and we can go from there.” She glanced over as Aimee Jo was bagged and lifted onto a gurney.

  “I just want to kick the shit out of something,” he admitted to her.

  “Quinn,” she said, stepping closer to offer him some calm and comfort. Maybe she was just good at handling tragedy and distancing herself. For now, she’d try to help him.

  At the use of his name and not ‘sheriff’, his eyebrow went up. “Yeah?”

  She took a chance and leaned into him. As her body came into contact with his, she could feel him release the breath that he had been holding. The tension ebbed away and there was calm.

  “We’ll figure this out. Together, we’ll find the person who’s doing this,” she offered.

  Quinn was focused on something entirely different at that point. Part of it was how she felt against the front of his body, and the rest was her scent.

  It was maddening.

  She figured why the hell not. Leaning in, she went up on her toes to kiss him. It wasn’t anything like the meeting of lips the previous night, but it wasn’t any less spectacular.

  Quinn honestly didn't expect her display of affection. Granted, they were off hidden behind a tree and out of everyone’s sight, but it still heated his body. There was that feeling of gaining headway in this uphill fight.

  Slowly, she pulled away, only to stare into his eyes. “Feel better?”

  He didn't speak. Now, he was all stirred up for a whole other set of reasons, but at least it wasn’t anger.

  “Let’s go tell her parents, then try and figure this out.”

  “Okay,” he finally got out.

  Callie headed back to the crime scene, and then paused when she realized that he wasn’t at her side. “I can do that part alone, if you want me to, Quinton.”

  It touched him that she would even offer that. “No, I’m coming, Callista.”

  Once back from their ‘meeting’, neither missed that Jimmy Lee was looking pretty distraught.

  “Are you okay, Deputy?” asked Quinn. It wasn’t as if he could blame the man. He was feeling just as disoriented, until Callie fixed him up.

  “Yeah, I’m just trying to get my bearings. This is disturbing,” he said quietly.

  Who could disagree with that?

  They followed the body as the coroner had her moved to the van. Once she was loaded up and on her way, they knew what needed to be done.

  It was time to do a notify.

  Callie wasted no time getting into his truck. When Quinn got in, too, he did something she hadn’t expected. Instead of speaking, he rested his forehead on the steering wheel. The slow release of pent up breath said it all.

  “I’m sorry, Callie. You must think I’m a lunatic,” he admitted quietly. The last thing that he wanted to do was risk ostracizing her, especially after what she just offered him in the way of comfort.

  Reaching for his hand, she squeezed it. “It’s okay, Quinn. We’ll figure it out, and if you want, I have a few friends in the FBI. I could call them and see what they can dig up for us. We might be missing something. There’s a possibility this has happened someplace else, or it’s a copycat killing.”

  “Yeah, maybe we should call them. I know if this keeps up, we’ll have to ask for help. With the resources here, I have no idea where to even start with this.”

  He sounded so frustrated that she leaned over and kissed him on his rough cheek, hoping that it would work once again. Hopefully, it wouldn’t take much to soothe the savage beast.

  “Maybe they left us some evidence this time.”

  “I hope so,” he said, as he started the truck.

  If not, it was going to come down to the Feds, and for some reason, that left a bad taste in his mouth.

  The trip to Aimee Jo’s house was swathed in silence.

  Callie could tell that Quinn was preparing what he had to say to the parents of the deceased girl. There was no doubt in his mind that what was coming would devastate the family. When they pulled up to the small white house, Quinn took a deep breath before pushing open the truck door. The stress of his job weighed heavily on his shoulders as he made the trek to the front porch.

  When he knocked on the door, Callie stood silently behind him in support.

  This was going to be painful.

  They waited patiently and could hear Aimee Jo’s father from behind the door, calling to his wife.

  “It’s Sheriff Gaines, Laura. I told you that he would find the kid,” he said, pulling the door open to invite them in. The entire time, his eyes never left Callie as she walked in after Quinn. “Who are you?” he asked.

  “I’
m Doctor Carter,” she replied. The man’s eyes were rimmed in red, and he smelled like booze. Callie knew what was coming had the potential to destroy his life, making him even more of an alcoholic.

  Laura Wilkes raced into the room looking harried and panicked. “Is my girl okay, Sheriff? Where is she?”

  “Can we take a moment to talk, Mrs. Wilkes?”

  Laura didn't know what was going on, but she escorted them to her living room. Once there, she offered the couch to her guests.

  “I have some bad news, Mr. and Mrs. Wilkes. We found Aimee Jo this morning. It appears that she’s been murdered.”

  Silence covered the room.

  “No, it can’t be her!” whispered Laura in shock and horror.

  “I’m afraid it is, ma’am. She’s in good hands right now, but later we need one of you to come down to the morgue for a positive ID.”

  Callie stood to offer her condolences when Mr. Wilkes angrily leapt from his seat. The rage was clear on his face. It wasn’t surprising, since alcohol and grief didn't generally mix.

  “You son of a bitch! Do you think this is funny?” he swung out, trying to hurt anyone in his path. When his arm went wide, aiming for Callie’s face, Quinn jumped into action.

  His push caught her off guard. Because of the heels she’d chosen that morning, Callie took a tumble. The coffee table broke her fall, busting her lip at the same time.

  Quinn saw red. Immediately, he grabbed the man’s fist and viciously twisted him into an arm lock. Moving fast, the angry man didn't know what was happening. The only sound in the room was the snapping shut of handcuffs and a distraught mother’s sobs.

  “Now, calm down and I’ll let you out,” he said, as he offered Callie a hand up off the floor.

  Mrs. Wilkes was borderline hysterical.

  “Are you okay?” Quinn asked, checking her split lip. It was hard to fight off the rage he was feeling, that some man had nearly put his hands on her.

  “Yeah,” Callie replied, as she forgot about her own pain to focus on Laura Wilkes. “Ma’am, it’s going to be okay. We’ll get through this together. I promise. Now, let’s go to the kitchen, and I’ll make you some tea. We can talk about your daughter for a little while.”

  Quinn waited until Aimee Jo’s mother was escorted out of the room before he focused on the restrained man. “Now, Mr. Wilkes, I’m going to let you go, but you need to calm down. If you pull another stunt like that, you’ll end up detoxing in the tank. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

  The man nodded through the tears that were now threatening to fall.

  “Sit down, so I can ask you some questions. Where were you last night between nine and five this morning?”

  Mr. Wilkes sobbed, “I was here. I had a shitty day and started drinking after work. I don’t remember much past eight.”

  “Okay, so what you’re saying is that you were here alone?”

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m tellin’ you.”

  They both stared at each other, knowing what the other person was thinking. The man never reported his own child missing, and that was a problem.

  Everything that happened made him look guilty as sin.

  * * *

  Callie ignored her split lip as she poured Laura a cup of tea. Moving to the woman’s side, she tried to offer comfort as she cried with her head down on the table.

  “Why did this happen?” she asked, weeping. “My baby was a good girl. She went to school and got good grades. She didn't deserve to die. I wish I could take her place,” she sobbed.

  “Ma’am, I wish I could answer that, but all I can say is the sheriff will do his best to find the individual who was responsible for this.”

  “Was she...you know?” she asked between sobs. It was almost impossible for her to spit out the words. It seemed like the woman feared saying them because if she did, it would make them true.

  “We won’t know until the coroner’s report tells us the extent of her injury. All I can tell you is that she didn’t suffer, and she’s at peace now.” What Callie didn't tell her was how scared the poor girl had to be the entire time she was alive, but no mother needed to hear that.

  The woman looked at her. “Are you with the sheriff’s department?”

  “No, ma’am. I’m a psychiatrist, and I’m trying to help the sheriff find the animal who did this to your baby,” she replied, reaching into her pocket to pull out a card. “Here’s my office and cell number. If you want to make an appointment to see me, I’ll make time for you, even if we have to meet here or at my house.”

  “I can’t afford a shrink,” she said, pushing the card away as she wiped her tears. “I can barely afford to survive, let alone pay for something frivolous.”

  “You can afford me, Laura, because it won’t cost you anything but your time. I’m doing this to help you, not make money. Who can I call so you’re not alone?”

  “Can you call my momma? I don’t think I want to be alone right now, and Billy really won’t be very much help. He’s too lost in his hangover.”

  “Does he drink like this all the time?”

  “Yeah, he does. I can’t help but think that if he wasn’t such a drunk, maybe he would have known our daughter wasn’t home last night,” she said with pure venom. “Is it wrong of me to hate him for not even knowing our child was missing?”

  Callie patted her hand. “No, it doesn’t make you a bad person at all. It just proves that you’re human, and there isn’t anything wrong with feeling the emotions you have right now. It’s part of the grieving process.”

  There was motion from the doorway, and Callie took it as a signal that Quinn was ready to interview the woman.

  “I’ll call your mother for you. Please remember what I said, Laura. You can call me, and I’ll make time for you. I promise.”

  Callie excused herself, giving the sheriff a look. It wasn’t going to be an easy interview. Leaving to make the call, she hoped he had some kind of luck.

  Quinn struggled through the process. Whenever she mentioned Aimee Jo’s name, Laura broke down even more. By the time her mother arrived, he knew it was useless at this point. While he didn’t want to harass the victim’s family, he knew anything they shared would help find the killer.

  Unfortunately, it would have to wait. Giving up, Quinn promised to call on the woman later in the week for more questioning.

  Heading out, Quinn escorted Callie to the truck. Once inside, he joined her. When he was forced to see the blood on her shirt, he knew an apology was necessary. “I’m really sorry about pushing you into the table.”

  Callie wasn’t upset in the least. “It’s okay, considering that he would have broken my nose if he actually hit me. I just wasn’t expecting to fall. Blame it on the heels,” she said nonchalantly, checking out her lip in the mirror.

  “You can send me the dry-cleaning bill, or I’ll buy you another shirt,” he stated.

  Callie detected the chill in his voice. It was like déjà vu, all over again. Frankly, it was irritating the hell out of her. “Are you mad at me for some reason, or am I about to be your handy target again?”

  “I’m not angry at you. I’m just pissed off in general.”

  “Well, it’s good to know it’s not me who has provoked your anger,” she replied, wincing as her lip split open again. “Shit,” she muttered.

  “I’ll take you back to your office,” he said casually.

  “Why?”

  Quinn was all stirred up and anything he came up with was likely to upset the woman beside him. He and anger weren’t a good mix.

  “What? You don’t want my help now all of the sudden?” Now, she was getting angry. At some point, there was going to be an explosion. Callie considered herself a really patient person, but this man was pushing her toward the edge of rational behavior.

  He said nothing as he drove them to town.

  Callie found his silence to be more irritating. “You know what, Quinton Gaines? You’re the most exasperating man I know. First,
you need my help and are more than happy to use me until you get upset. Then, you push me aside when you’re pissed off. Well, let me tell you something. I cancelled seven appointments today to help you out. I walked into a crime scene in one hundred degree temperatures, in very expensive heels. I get my lip split open when you push me out of the way of a drunken man’s fist. Now, you have the balls to tell me you’ll drop me off at my car and dismiss me like I’m an inconvenience for you? Seriously? I think that you may need psychiatric help!”

  He lifted an eyebrow at her temper.

  “Well screw you, Sheriff!” she blurted, glaring out the window as she touched her bleeding lip.

  Enough was enough! At that moment, she was hot, angry, and frustrated, too. He wasn’t the only one who could show up to the party with a temper in tow. She had one, too, and it was ready to make an appearance.

  “Doc…”

  “No, don’t, ‘Doc’, me in that tone. You made me cancel my appointments to help you, and you will damn well use my time. It may not be valuable to you, Sheriff Gaines, but it sure is to me and my patients.”

  Silence filled the truck.

  Finally, he took a chance. “I screwed up again, didn’t I?” he asked. His first clue was her body language, and that was followed up by her reverting back to using his title, not name.

  She looked at him and didn’t look entertained in the least. Yeah, the man may be sexy as sin, but now he was going to wear her target for a while.

  “Do you want to stop at ‘The Herb Pot’ now, or do you trust me to pick out something real nice later?” he asked. Glancing over at her, he tipped up his hat and tried to see if his attempt at humor had patched up the mess that he’d caused.

  Callie’s lips curled at the corners, despite her desire to stay angry. “I trust you to pick out something to compliment your other flowers.”

  Quinn smiled as he focused back on the traffic around them. Apparently, she was going to forgive him, and that helped to take the pressure off his chest. “Maybe you should start a new section in your garden. I have a feeling that I’ll be buying you lots of plants in the future.”