Cold Threat

by Mary Stone

  Fortis scowled but chuckled in spite of the glare. “I’m glad you two are making headway, but I need you to work on my list. I’ve added another, so the Coggins case takes second place now.”

  He handed her a typed list with file numbers, year the case was opened, and grid location in the evidence locker.

  Ellie glanced over it and frowned, reluctant to put aside the cases they’d been digging through. She caught herself before she rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide the exasperation in her voice when she pointed out what she was sure was obvious. “I’m not sure why it matters which cold cases I clear first. I’ll get to them all eventually, right?”

  “It doesn’t matter per se, but you know that’s not how office politics work. These cases either have family members making a stink online because the cases aren’t solved yet, or they’re something the chief himself wants cleared out for whatever reason.”

  Ellie frowned at the mention of Marcus Johnson, Charleston’s Chief of Police. “I didn’t realize Chief took a personal interest in what goes on in cold cases.”

  “There are three that he put on the list as priorities.” Fortis pointed out the second through fourth cases on the list, all with asterisks beside them. “Then there’s the ones I selected myself. Like this one on the top. That is your number one priority from this point on.”

  Ellie read the one-sentence description that followed the file number. “It was already ruled an accident. Why is it even in cold cases to start with?”

  “People don’t like it when high-profile victims are left unidentified.” He motioned to the files spread across the table. “This should be right up your alley, right? Dead man found in the woods, no name, no suspect.”

  “People get shot during hunting season all the time.” Ellie turned her palms up, even as she realized other detectives wouldn’t be arguing with their commanding officer. But she wasn’t like other detectives. And she wanted closure for the women. Last fall’s case had hit too close to home for her. Discovering that her own kidnapping had been part of the ever widening human trafficking case had her working herself to the bone to make sure that horror never happened to another woman. “Isn’t that, like a yearly thing? What makes this case so special?”

  “Usually, hunters get shot accidentally during hunting season. This guy was wearing running clothes, we couldn’t find him on any local missing person’s database, and there was no bullet recovered.”

  Ellie blinked and checked the file location on the list. She patted her chest for a pen—where her uniform pocket had been for all of her three-year-long career as a beat cop on the street—before remembering that she didn’t wear a uniform anymore.

  She caught sight of Fortis’s pocket, complete with pocket protector and a handful of pens. Her hand shot out quick as a snake striking, grabbing a pen and jotting the numbers down on her palm. She returned the pen almost as fast, and smiled, fluttering her eyelashes at her boss.

  Fortis’s returning smile was blinding. “I see your interest is piqued now. Good. I need this man identified. Without a bullet, we might never know where the stray shot came from, but identifying this guy so his family can be notified should be an easy one for super sleuths like you and detective Reed over here.”

  Jillian’s shoulders stiffened at the dig, but Fortis’s attention was on Ellie, so he missed it. Eager to get started, Ellie gathered the file and evidence box, bringing them to an empty table so she could unpack without the risk of cross-contamination with the others.

  Fortis gave her a nod of approval. “I’ll leave you to it.” He walked out of the room without another word.

  Jillian started packing up the files they’d been working on, her face pinched. “I guess I should get back to work. My real work. Not that I have a lot going on, but I do need to get through some requests and get my queue cleared out.”

  “I’ll let you know if I need help.” Ellie frowned down at the file, thinking out loud. “I wonder why there wasn’t a bullet.”

  Jillian picked up a white evidence box and stopped by Ellie’s table on her way to the shelf where it would reside a bit longer. She gestured at the pictures Ellie had already arranged carefully on the table. “Looks like his remains were scavenged. You ever seen a wild animal eat a corpse? One of them probably swallowed it.”

  Ellie’s mouth dropped open, eyes popping wide with surprise that this dainty little blonde woman would know such a thing. “No, I haven’t. Have you?”

  “Not a human corpse, but my dad used to take me hunting when I was a teenager.”

  “I didn’t know you were into hunting.”

  “I wasn’t, but my dad wanted a boy so bad, and it was quality time alone with him. I craved that more than I wanted to stay home in my warm bed.” Jillian’s eyes got a faraway look in them that had nothing to do with cold cases. “Hunting with him meant cold, dreary mornings and waiting for so many hours for the perfect buck to show up that my butt would fall asleep in the stand. But when the moment came, and he shook me awake with his finger to his lips, it was all worth it. You should’ve seen how his face lit up as I lined up my scope and took a deep breath before I pulled the trigger. It was worth every bit of the watching and waiting. And the venison stew was amazing.”

  “I bet it was.” Ellie tried to keep the grimace off her face, having a hard time imagining the small woman holding a big gun.

  “I learned so much from those times. Like this.” Jillian waved her hand across the table. “Sometimes a novice hunter will shoot a deer, and it won’t go down with one shot. It’ll wander the forest for a while before bleeding out or dying from infection. Then the scavengers find it.”

  Ellie grimaced. “Yeah, buzzards and coyotes can do a number on anything they come across.”

  Jillian nodded. “We came across a carcass once, something I’ll never forget. The buzzards were like a school of sharks in a feeding frenzy. My dad stood between me and them, just in case they got too excited and went rogue, as he put it. I can see why there wasn’t a bullet. It could have either been eaten and expelled at another location, or the…mania could have been so rough that the bullet was flung loose and lost in the woods.” She cringed, giving Ellie a look like she was sorry she had to relay that bit of info. “I hope he was dead when the scavengers found him. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.”

  A shudder passed through Ellie as she tried to blink away the scene of carnage that had played out in her mind. “Thanks for that image.”

  Jillian beamed and cocked one hip to the side. “You asked.”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t ask for the in-depth description.” Ellie shook her head, as if shaking off bad juju. “It’s good to know I can still count on you to take things to the next level, though.”

  “Any time you need a stomach-turning description of something that happens in the animal kingdom, I’m your girl.” Jillian winked. “Now, hurry up and get to work so we can get back to the Garret-Bower case. You know Fortis won’t get off your back until you have this hunting accident solved.”

  Ellie rolled her eyes and went back to work. “You have no idea how right you are,” she muttered, but Jillian was already halfway back to her desk outside the evidence room.

  Then she got to work. Ellie was on her own, and this John Doe wasn’t going to identify himself.

  3

  The door to the station’s psychiatrist’s office swung inward when Ellie knocked, revealing the slender Dr. Powell sitting behind his desk. “Sorry. I didn’t realize I knocked so hard.”

  He blinked, his face blank as he looked up at her.

  Why does he always look shocked to see me? Ellie wondered.

  But then he gave her a warm smile, and the moment passed. “I left it ajar because I was expecting you.”

  “Did I make an appointment?” She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. “I don’t remember if I did or not.”

  “No, but this is the usual time you show up, so I took a chance and was rewarded.” The bl
ond man smiled, his blue eyes crinkling behind his glasses. “As guesses go, I suppose mine wasn’t half bad.” He gestured at his desk, which was covered with papers spread about in a haphazard fashion, and chuckled with an apologetic smile. “I’m working on an academic paper, and I get wrapped up in the notes and all the particulars.” He nodded to the chair across from his desk. “You know the routine. Have a seat and let’s chat.”

  Ellie didn’t have the heart to tell him that his desk wasn’t any messier than usual, and if he hadn’t pointed it out, she wouldn’t have noticed the difference. She plopped down in the chair and leaned back, staring at the ceiling tiles as she willed herself to relax. “Why isn’t this getting any easier, Dr. Powell? I’ve been coming here since I got shot by Eddie Bower in November, but I still feel like it’s the first time every time I sit down.”

  She heard him let out a long but quiet breath. Not exasperated. Powell was never impatient or unkind. No, that breath was commiseration, and it was part of what she liked about him, even if she would never admit it out loud. No matter how much seeing him helped her, she still felt a twinge of something that was almost embarrassment.

  “You’ve only been seeing me twice a month for a few months.” When she met them, his eyes were gentle. Patient. “What is this, the tenth session?”

  “I haven’t been counting.” She had, actually, and tried not to squirm. Impatience gripped her when she thought of the scraps of memories that had trickled in slowly from the night she could barely remember. The night she was rescued from her kidnapper. “Making it through the holidays while my father recovered from his heart transplant, plus recovering from my own gunshot wound makes it feel impossible that it’s already February. It seems like Christmas was just yesterday.”

  “Understandable. You have a lot on your plate, and that’s not even considering your elusive past. It’s normal to lose track of time when you’re overwhelmed with responsibilities.” He pointed at the air with one finger to emphasize his point. “Even when what overwhelms you is happiness. You don’t have to be having a crisis to be overwhelmed. Too much relief and happiness at once can overfill our cups too. It’s important to give yourself some grace and understand that you’re doing the best you can with what you’ve been given. That’s all any of us can do.”

  “You make it sound so easy. Don’t worry, just let things happen as they flow, and everything will be all right.” She sighed. “It sounds good when I’m sitting here, but when I get out in the world and am bombarded with deadlines, expectations, and people who need me to finish things on their timeline, it all goes to hell.”

  Dr. Powell chuckled. “That’s the only downside to a safe haven such as this office. The world outside this door can seem to be in technicolor, and that can be jarring once you enter it again.” When Ellie tilted her head, staring at him, he laughed and shook his head. “Sorry for my antiquated equivalency. What is it people are saying these days? The outside world is a little too extra sometimes, and that’s harsh.”

  Ellie chortled, covering her mouth quickly to quiet the sudden laughter that came tumbling out from between her lips. “Sorry.” She dissolved into full-blown laughter and waved a hand to fan herself as she struggled to catch her breath. “It’s the way you said it. Your impersonation of a millennial was dead-on.”

  “No apologies needed.” His grin widened. “I was trying to be funny, so it’s good that I hit the mark. That doesn’t always happen to me, and it’s nice to see you really let loose and laugh for once.”

  His comment silenced her. “It has been a while.” She frowned as the lightness of the moment left her. “Being shot has changed a lot for me. I’m a little more careful than I was before.”

  “Emphasis on a little. From what I hear, you’re still pushing envelopes and going off half-cocked when it suits you.”

  Tensing, she eyed him. “I guess you’ve been talking to Fortis.”

  He shrugged, looking nonchalant. “It’s part of my job to listen to the concerns and comments of your colleagues. Though, I hope I don’t need to remind you that I never discuss the specifics of what you share here with him. All I’m to do is let him know if I think the person who sits in that chair is stable enough to carry a weapon and ready to work on the street again.”

  “You must’ve said I was stable since I’ve had my gun back since December.”

  “I did. There was no reason to think you couldn’t handle it.”

  Ellie had thought there would be an end date to these visits, but though she’d asked, there hadn’t been one forthcoming. “Then why is Fortis still insisting I see you?”

  “You’ve been through a lot, and it’s good to talk to someone. He’s probably just worried about you.”

  They’re probably worried about you.

  The familiar voice that echoed in her head came out of nowhere, sending a shock through Ellie. She froze and tried to force her mind to chase the memory, but it slipped away as quickly as it had come, leaving her frustrated.

  “Where did you go just now?” Powell leaned forward, and for an instant, Ellie could have sworn he licked his lips before he caught himself. “Tell me what you’re thinking right now. First thing that comes to your mind, no matter how ridiculous it seems.”

  “You licked your lips.”

  He blinked and narrowed his eyes. “Pardon?”

  For a moment, Ellie considered lying to the man. She even opened her mouth to spout out an untruth before deciding against it. If she wanted to be known as an honest person, she had to start with herself.

  “I heard a voice that sounded like yours say, ‘They’re probably just worried about you,’ but it was far away, and I don’t know…” She fought not to fidget in her seat as she searched for the right words. “It sounded…off. Then I was back here again, and you were licking your lips like you were excited.”

  She waited for him to balk, or accuse her of losing her mind, but he only gave her a gentle smile that was all kindness. “What if I told you that none of that happened? At least not in this moment.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Something I said must have triggered your memory, but it’s buried so deep that your mind can easily trick you into hearing things differently than they were before. For example, you can’t remember the voice you heard when you were fifteen, but when I spoke words I’m assuming were very similar based on your response, your mind used my voice instead.”

  She shook her head, impatient to get past his confusing explanation and to the memory. “How do I get past that and recover my memories? My actual memories, I mean.”

  “I’d like to encourage you to give hypnotherapy a try.” He’d brought up hypnotizing her before, and she’d always swiftly turned him down.

  She pursed her lips, unsure of giving up control to be hypnotized, but wanting to recover her full memory of her ordeal. If she could remember that night, all of it and what followed, she was sure she could put an end to the human trafficking ring that seemed to be very much alive in Charleston. “I’m not sure.”

  “If you tell me what you’re worried about, perhaps I can assuage your fears.”

  “I’ve heard that by hypnotizing, memories can be planted. Like with the power of suggestion.”

  He gave a short laugh that was more a breath than anything. “That’s not something you need to worry about. You’re much too strong to be susceptible to that.”

  “Fine. What if you take me into a memory, and I can’t get out?”

  He tilted his head, his expression growing tender. “There it is. The ring of truth. Is that why you’ve been resistant to it all this time?”

  “Besides the fact that I don’t think hypnosis works?” She scoffed, surprised that type of therapy would even be offered in a police department shrink’s office.

  “I’d buy your flippant response if your fingers weren’t clenched so tightly.”

  She glanced down at her hands in her lap and pulled her fingers apart, forcing herself to relax. “May
be we could try it for a few minutes.”

  His momentarily raised eyebrow was the only thing that gave away his surprise, and he resumed a neutral expression so fast she almost missed it. “We can do a short session and see if you have any success with it.”

  “Now?” She couldn’t mask the surprised in her tone.

  He nodded. “Now is good.”

  She looked around the room, her heart pounding in her chest. Could she do this? Give up control? Surrender her mind to a man she barely knew?

  Ellie studied the doctor, who was patiently waiting for her answer. She had to trust someone. And while she wouldn’t hesitate to jump off a bridge after a bad guy, she needed to be as equally brave when it came to rescuing herself.

  “Do I lay down?”

  “You can lay back and close your eyes.” He turned the lights off and closed the blinds, muting the light and making the room shadowy. “Just listen to the sound of my voice. Don’t speak, just let your mind drift.”

  She did as he asked after moving to the loveseat, his soothing monotone making her eyelids heavy in a matter of moments. She turned her head to the side, sinking into the cushions and letting her body relax.

  When he repeated the words that had triggered the memory the first time, he sounded far away. She heard the words again, this time in the memory.

  They’re probably worried about you.

  A chill ran through her. Sucking in a quick breath, she was surprised by the scent of a recent storm that drifted through the air. Panic made her struggle to open her eyes, but her eyelids were too heavy, and she felt herself drifting further away again.

  The night was very dark. Overcast, with no moon to light her way.

  The heels of her new knee-high boots echoed on the deserted street with each step. Without looking at her watch, she knew that it was far too late to be out alone.

  She heard the car’s engine, but by the time she did, it was too late to hide as the car pulled up beside her.

  “Need a ride?” The man’s tone was much too friendly.