CRUEL DECEPTION
BY
John C. Dalglish
2014
Prologue
Nikki Bostik was ready to go home. In her job as a real estate agent, her days tended to be either very good or very bad. There were days when she closed big deals requiring a trip to the local bar for a celebration, and then there were days filled with customers like Marc Maxwell. Today had been one of the latter.
Nikki opened her desk drawer and pulled out the mirror she kept for last minute primping. Strands of her dark brown hair had pulled out of the long ponytail she’d started the day with, and her green eyes held telltale bloodshot streaks, revealing the exhaustion Mr. Maxwell had brought on.
When he’d first come through the door of Sunshine Realty, Nikki had been thrilled to be the one up next. Marc Maxwell was in his mid-thirties, tan, and very handsome. Nikki, herself thirty-eight, was aware of the man’s gaze as she stood to greet him. Her petite figure seemed to meet with his approval. That was three weeks ago.
Now, Nikki dreaded every meeting. Marc was pompous, arrogant, and demanding. She’d had enough of his nonsense and was ready to dump him as a client. They’d looked at dozens of homes and not one had less than half a dozen issues that were below his standards.
She put her mirror away, walked to the back of the office to check the back door, and then picked up her purse. Home and a hot bath were sounding really awesome right now. She didn’t hear the front door open from her office, and when she stopped to turn off the Christmas tree lights, she felt a knife across her neck.
She froze, fear urging her to fight, while at the same time the knife forcing her to remain still. It was pressed hard against her neck, and her attacker’s other hand was wrapped across her chest. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck, and the smell of his cologne filled her senses.
Her mind raced.
Who is it? Is it Marc? That cologne, I know it. I’ve smelled it before, but where?
Suddenly, it came to her. She knew who it was, but would revealing it make the situation worse or better? She guessed worse and kept her mouth shut.
“Back there.”
His voice confirmed her suspicion.
He pushed her toward the small kitchenette at the back of the office. He smashed her face against the wall, causing her to see stars, and she thought would pass out. The knife hadn’t left her throat, and a small amount of blood ran down her chest.
Finally, she decided to fight, but it was too late.
“This is what you deserve!”
The knife slashed across her throat, blood spattering the wall. He let her go and Nikki slid to the floor. She rolled onto her back and looked up into the eyes of her killer. He stood over her, glaring down, a smirk crossing his face as he watched.
Nikki fought to breathe, taking her hands and trying desperately to hold back the life blood flooding out of her. She realized this animal was the last thing she was going to see in this world. Turning her head, she managed a quick glance at the photo on her desk. Her ten-year-old golden retriever looked back at her. Then, she was gone.
*******
Sam Barrow had an early appointment. Parking directly in front of the office, he went to unlock the front door of Sunshine Realty. The door gave as he went to put his key in the slot.
“Dang it! Who locked up last night?”
Sam had been a real estate broker for twenty years, and he knew the information kept in the office files could financially ruin his clients, not to mention his business. He was pretty sure Nikki was the last to leave, and she was always reliable, but there was a first time for everything.
Sam pushed through the door, flipped the lights on, and walked toward his office in the back. A quick look at the file cabinets on the sidewall quieted his anxiety some; they were still closed and locked. He set his briefcase down on his desk, looked at his watch, and decided he had time to start a pot of coffee before his clients arrived.
Walking toward the back room, a scene of unbelievable horror tried to push into his consciousness. He stood trying to process the images flooding his brain and, finally succeeding, turned and ran.
Chapter 1
Detective Jason Strong kissed his wife, Sandy, and his daughter, Nina, and got into his car. He loved his work as a homicide detective in San Antonio, the seventh largest city in America, and it kept him busy. However, sometimes saying goodbye to his girls was the most difficult part of his day.
Turning out of their Terrill Hills neighborhood, he settled in for the twenty-minute drive to the station. He checked his phone and was surprised not to have a call from his partner, Vanessa Layne. She prided herself on getting to the station before Jason on most days, something he thought was left over from her early days as a female cop, when she felt she had to prove herself. Vanessa had nothing to prove to Jason; she was the best partner he could hope for, and he told her so often.
Still, she usually beat him in, and liked to call to give him the early scoop before he arrived. He looked at his watch, and despite chastising himself for doing so, he started to worry. Vanessa was pregnant again, and the last time she’d been late to work during her pregnancy, she had suffered from terrible morning sickness.
Jason pulled into the station lot, stepped out of his car, and stretched his six-foot frame as he scanned the parking lot for his partner’s car. She drove a souped-up Dodge Challenger, a gift from her husband, who customized cars for a living. He didn’t see it.
Making his way into the elevator, his thumb illuminated the number three button, and he rode up to the home of the Homicide Division. When the doors slid open, he could see his and his partner’s desks. They were pushed up against each other, allowing the two detectives to work face to face. It was official; he’d beaten her in for a change.
“Where’s Layne?” Lieutenant Sarah Banks was standing in her office door.
“I don’t know. I was going to ask you,” Jason answered as he hung his coat on his chair.
“Well, find her and both of you come into my office. I’ve got a scene, and you two are up next.” She turned and went back into her office, closing the door.
Jason picked up his phone and dialed Vanessa. Several rings later, she answered.
“I’m on my way. Sorry.”
“Vanessa?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, sure. Just kinda feel off this morning.”
Jason’s heart sank. He’d hoped she would be able to avoid the worst of the morning sickness this time.
“I’m sorry. Has the morning sickness come back?”
“No, I just don’t feel well. I’ll be there shortly.”
She hung up and Jason put the phone down. Trying to avoid any trouble, he knocked on the lieutenant’s door.
“Come!”
He stuck his head in. “Just talked to Vanessa. She’ll be here shortly; she said she didn’t feel good this morning.”
“Okay. Let me know when she shows.”
“Yes ma’am.”
*******
Ten minutes later, the elevator doors slid open to reveal a slightly haggard Vanessa. She was five-ten and thin, with large blue eyes and straight black hair that fell to the middle of her back. Today, her hair was in a messy ponytail, and her eyes were sunken in like she hadn’t slept in days.
“Morning, Vanessa. Rough night?”
“I’ve slept better.”
“You look tired.”
“I feel tired. What’s on the agenda?”
Jason didn’t pry. “A meeting with Banks; we’ve got a case.
”
They walked over to the lieutenant’s door, knocked, and entered. The lieutenant looked up from her paperwork. “Vanessa! You look like crap.”
Vanessa plopped down into a chair. “Just kinda tired. That’s all.”
Sarah Banks looked skeptical, but changed the subject. She slid a note across the desk to Jason. “West side of the city. That’s the address. Woman found dead by her employer. Doc Davis is already on his way.”
Jason picked up the note and recognized the street. “Marbach Road. What’s the name of the place?”
“Sunshine Realty. The broker, Sam Barrow, called it in from the business next door.”
The lieutenant turned back to her paperwork and the detectives recognized the sign. No more info was forthcoming and it was time to get to work. They closed the door behind them.
*******
They arrived at Sunshine Realty fifteen minutes later. It was located in a small strip mall, flanked by a donut shop on one side, and a burger joint on the other.
“Perfect spot for a police station.”
Jason rolled his eyes. “Even sick you’re thinking of food.”
The crime scene was chaotic like most others, especially since it was a business district, and made getting close to the realty office difficult. People stood pointing and talking, pressing in against the yellow crime tape, trying to get a glance at whatever carnage might be inside.
Since Christmas was approaching fast and there were more people out than usual, forcing Jason to park near the back of the lot, and wade through a sea of holiday shoppers.
Jason and Vanessa approached the yellow tape, but before ducking under, Jason searched the outside of the building for security cameras. He was disappointed to find none. They showed their badges to the officer at the door, and walked inside.
Jason immediately picked up the scent of congealed blood, an irony-metal thickness in the air that, once experienced, was never forgotten. At the far end of the office, they spotted Doctor Leonard Davis, or ‘Doc Davis’ as he was known around the precinct, and went down to talk to him.
The years hadn’t changed Doc at all. He still looked sixty-five, with just a ring of gray hair around the back of his head, and extremely pale skin from too many days in the basement morgue. He was a big man, somewhere between two-hundred-fifty and three hundred pounds, and his brilliance was legendary.
Doc was bent over studying something, and as Jason got close enough to look over the medical examiner’s shoulder, he stopped in his tracks. Blood spatter covered the entire back room, and scrawled across the wall in blood, were the letters ‘K-C.’ Vanessa saw it at the same time. “Dang!”
Doc Davis stood up and turned to look at the newest arrivals.
“So, you two drew the short straw.”
Jason let a wry smile cross his lips. “No, Doc. We just wanted to come out and work with you.”
“Whatever. It’s not a pretty scene.”
“Indeed. What have we got?”
Doc pointed as he spoke. “Victim is Nikki Bostik, age thirty-eight. Her throat was slashed, cutting one of the jugular veins in the process. She bled out fairly rapidly, but apparently had enough time to scrawl those letters.”
Vanessa had opened her notebook. “How do we know she wrote them?”
Doc Davis reached down and lifted the right hand of the victim, showing it to the detectives. “She has blood on both hands, but smearing on the first three fingers suggests it.”
Jason motioned toward the forensic photographer. “Make sure we get several shots of the writing.”
“Yes, sir.”
Vanessa looked up from her pad. “Do we have an estimated time of death?”
“Based on blood congealing and the level of rigor, I’d say twelve to fourteen hours ago, but I’ll know more after autopsy.”
“Did they find a weapon?”
“No, but they’re searching the dumpsters and fields around here.”
“Where’s the man who found the body?”
Doc shrugged and bent down to continue his examination. Jason and Vanessa walked back to the outer office. Only forensic techs were inside the office, and Jason needed the responding officer.
“Didn’t Banks say the call came in from a business next door?”
Vanessa nodded. “I think so.”
They stepped back outside into the December sun, warming the day but not hot enough to be uncomfortable, and Jason approached the officer standing guard at the crime tape. “Where’s the responding officer?”
“I believe he’s in the donut shop with the 9-1-1 caller.”
“Thanks.”
Jason pointed to the donut shop door. “In there.”
“Oh, goody!”
Jason laughed. “Feeling better?”
“Maybe…”
They found the officer at the back of the shop, standing next to a clearly shaken man, who sat in a booth and continued to sip his coffee cup despite it being empty. They looked up as Jason and Vanessa approached. Jason slid into the booth opposite the man and extended his hand.
“Detective Jason Strong. You are?”
“Sam Barrow.”
They shook hands. Jason looked at Sam’s coffee cup. “Can I get you a refill?”
“Sure. You got anything I can put in it to help the nerves?”
Jason shook his head. “Afraid not.”
Jason motioned toward a waitress. Vanessa signaled for the officer who had been interviewing Mr. Barrow to follow her and they moved to another table.
When both men had fresh coffee, Jason took out his notebook. “Can you give me a rundown on what happened this morning?”
Sam dumped far more sugar than was healthy into his cup, stirred it, and did a taste test. Deciding it still wasn’t enough, he poured another packet of sugar into the cup. Jason waited patiently. Finally, satisfied his coffee was drinkable, Sam looked up at him.
“I had an early appointment this morning, so as usually happens anyway, I was first into the office. When I went to unlock the front door, I found it already open.”
“What time was that?”
“Eight or eight-fifteen.”
Jason wrote it down. “Anybody else due in that early?”
Sam shook his head. “No.”
“Please continue.”
Jason took notes, even though he knew Vanessa would be getting the same answers from the patrol officer. As he wrote, he tried to put himself in Sam Barrow’s shoes. Finding someone unconscious or deceased is hard enough, but the bloodiness of the scene next door would stay with this man for the rest of his life.
“Can you think of anyone who might want to hurt Miss Bostik?”
Sam shook his head. “She was very sweet and kind to everyone. I never heard her say a harsh word about anyone, not even her ex-husband, Larry.”
Jason made a note of the ex-husband. Their coffees were gone and Sam seemed to have reached his limit. He broke down and started to cry. “Poor Nikki…why her?”
“I intend to find out. Just one last question, Mr. Barrow. Does K-C mean anything to you?”
Sam Barrow shook his head, then buried his face in his hands, sobs wracking his body.
“Sam? Sam!”
Both men looked up to see a sharply dressed woman in her late thirties coming toward them. Sam stood up and they wrapped their arms around each other, crying together. “Oh, Carly, it was awful.”
“What happened, Sam? They said Nikki is dead.”
“She is. Someone butchered her!”
Jason, who had given them a moment, now addressed the newcomer. “I’m sorry, your name is?”
“Carly…Carly Simmons.”
“I’m Detective Strong. You knew Nikki Bostik?”
“Yes, she was my best friend.”
“Would you mind answering a few questions?”
“Of course.”
The three of them sat back down in the booth and Jason made sure a round of fresh coffee was delivered. He still had his notebook
out.
“Do you also work at Sunshine Realty?”
“Yes.”
“How long have you known Nikki?”
“Since college…sixteen, seventeen years.”
“When did you last speak to her?”
The blonde woman stopped to think about it, then reached into her purse and pulled out her cell phone. Carly Simmons had long earrings in the shape of crosses and numerous bracelets that jangled every time she moved.
She pushed a few buttons before looking at Jason. “Five-thirty last night.”
“And she sounded fine?”
“Yeah, except for putting up with a jerk named Marc Maxwell.”
Jason wrote the name down. “Was he Nikki’s boyfriend?”
Carly snorted. “Hardly! Nikki didn’t have a boyfriend, not since she got divorced earlier this year. Maxwell was a client, and a pain in the you-know-what.”
“In your opinion, could he have wanted to hurt Nikki?”
“I doubt he had the guts for it, but who knows.”
Sam concurred. “He’s a jerk, but he didn’t seem the type.”
Jason closed his pad. “Unfortunately, many times we don’t know who’s the type until they show us.”
Jason saw Vanessa coming back into the donut shop. He stood up. “One more question, it appears Nikki managed to write the letters K-C on the wall before she died. Do they mean anything to you?”
“K-C?”
“Yes.”
After several seconds, Carly shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I have no idea why she wrote that.”
Jason tried to hide his disappointment. “Thanks for your help. If you think of anything else, please call.”
He laid two cards on the table in front of Sam and Carly. They each picked one up and nodded. Vanessa waved at Jason to follow and he nodded.
Looking back at the two friends comforting each other, he wished he could say more. “I’m sorry for your loss. Thanks again, and we’ll do our best to find out what happened.”
The tears had started again for both of Nikki’s friends, and Jason wasn’t sure they even heard him. He reached Vanessa, shaking his head, and she gestured toward the woman at the booth. “Who’s that?”
CRUEL DECEPTION (Det. Jason Strong(CLEAN SUSPENSE) Book 9) Page 1
