Deadly Games

by Alexis Kennedy

  “We’re looking for walk-in coolers in the area. Do you know anybody that has one?” I inquired.

  She shook her head, and confusion settled in her eyes. “No, just restaurants would have freezers that large as far as I know.”

  “Sometimes, hunters and farmers have them to store meat,” Jack told her.

  “Well, I guess I’ll show it to you,” she finally relented and walked with us to the locked building. She was correct about its contents and about it being messy.

  “Thank you for your time, ma’am,” I told her, and we saw our way off her property. In the car, I added that we were likely looking for a single man. “I can’t imagine even a woman in an abusive home who would put up with what he’s doing.”

  “Well, that might explain the lack of sexual abuse, though,” Marisol suggested. “Maybe his wife lets him do it as long as he’s faithful to her. It could be a couple we’re looking for, which would help to explain why the victims are both male and female.”

  “That’s twisted, so you might be right,” I sighed. “Let’s keep checking everywhere then.” I stared out the passenger window of the patrol car. “Do you think the outbuilding would be cold to the touch? We might want to just check that out on the properties where no one answers the door.”

  “Makes sense to me,” Marisol replied. “Should we circle back to the first two homes then?”

  Without answering, the officer made a U-turn and headed back to the first house. The outbuilding was warm to the touch, so I crossed the address off our list. Then we went to the second address, which was on Rockwood Trail Court. The building there was also warm to the touch.

  “Well, we can dismiss this one too,” Marisol observed. “I think I’ll call Liam and see how they are making out.”

  While she made the phone call, we drove to the next address near that area. This time, a man in his twenties or thirties answered the door. The home only had a small shed on the grounds, but he had a special permit for building onto the home.

  My first observation was that he was within our target age range. I noticed he had no defensive wounds, but if our killer was knocking his victims out and then cuffing them to walls or beams, as we saw in the photograph he’d left, he probably wouldn’t have them. Our killer was a dominant person, so when Rick Miller didn’t agree to us looking around, I deliberately pressed his buttons to see how he’d react.

  “Do you have something you don’t want us to see in there? I mean, we won’t take long, and we’re not going to go through your things, so what’s the big deal?” I questioned.

  “The big deal, officer, is that I have a right to my privacy, and I’m not going to let you infringe on it. On the other hand, if you want to search my body, I could live with that.” He licked his thin lips, making my stomach turn.

  I couldn’t resist. “Officer, pat him down please.”

  Fisk shot me an inquisitive look at the same time Miller jumped backward.

  “Please just get off my property,” he exclaimed. “I have to get ready for work.”

  I listened intently for any sounds that would give him away, and I heard something suspicious coming from the basement.

  “Who’s in your basement, Mr. Miller? I hear something clanging,” I told him, and it was hard to keep my voice and temper steady. I wanted to knock him aside and barge in.

  He threw a glance over his shoulder at the cellar door and replied, “My cousin is down there looking at my hot water heater for me. He’s a plumber.”

  I looked back at the truck we’d pulled up behind. It lacked advertising. “Is that his truck?”

  “Yeah, why?” he wondered.

  “It doesn’t have a company name on it,” I stated. “I would think he’d advertise.”

  He cracked his knuckles and stared into my eyes. “It ain’t his company. He just works for the dude.”

  Could be valid, but it could be something else…

  “All right, Mr. Miller, we’ll be back later with a warrant.” I turned to walk back to the car, hoping he’d change his mind and let us in, but it didn’t happen.

  I called Agent Pullum and requested the search warrant. “What cause do you have?” he asked.

  “He fits part of our profile. He’s the right age, white, has the permit for home improvement, and I heard something coming from downstairs that could be the clanging of metal cuffs. He wouldn’t let us look, though. He comes off as dominant, which is another part of our killer’s profile.”

  There was a brief silence, and then the agent told me, “All right. I’ll see what I can do.”

  Marisol finally reached Liam and found out they didn’t have any suspects yet. We went to two other houses that allowed us entry before our warrant came through. The K-9 unit and three more officers met us back at Rick Miller’s address. The plumber’s truck was gone.

  I felt hopeful when he answered the door. “I thought you had to go to work, Mr. Miller,” I taunted.

  He looked at the horde of officers and the dogs wanting to search his home, and his eyes widened. “I called in sick. I have a migraine now. What are you doing back here?”

  I held up the warrant that had been faxed to the Wildwood station. “We have a warrant, so step aside.”

  We ransacked the cellar first, but we didn’t find anything. There weren’t any shackles mounted in the walls or beams, and there weren’t any holes to suggest that they had been at one time. The dogs didn’t pick up the scent of blood, but as we drew closer toward the attached garage, they did pick up the scent of drugs. We stumbled upon cartons of meth and paraphernalia to form a meth production lab.

  While our murder case wasn’t solved, I was still glad to bring the cocky bastard to justice on the drug charges.

  We hit a brick wall with the rest of the afternoon. Some people, who had dwelling improvements, weren’t home, so we’d have to go back tomorrow. Liam and Eric had a few more to check out as well.

  I was glad when it was quitting time, but then I remembered Justin was coming over, and my feelings were jumbled.

  JUSTIN SHOWED UP promptly at 6:30 with a hot pepperoni pizza, and we sat down to eat in front of the TV. I figured we wouldn’t have to talk about work, us, or anything else with a show on in the background, so I put on re-runs of Friends. It didn’t work, however.

  “How’s work going?” he asked in between bites.

  I glanced over at him. “I really don’t want to think about the job when I’m here. This is my oasis away from the madness, so please respect that.”

  His eyes widened. “It sounds like you’re tense. I can rub your back for you. You always liked my massages,” he reminded me.

  “You have tough cases. You know how it feels,” I sighed. “In fact, after we catch the psycho, it will be your case.”

  I tossed my pizza crust to Duke who was staring at me and licking his chops. I couldn’t say no to his face. After dinner, I lay on the sofa and let Justin give me one of his famous massages. It felt amazing to have the tension worked out of my muscles. When I sat upright, he tried to take it to the bedroom, but I told him I needed to call it a night.

  “Why are you pushing me away?” he wondered and squeezed my hand.

  “Because it gets too complicated, and I can’t handle it right now. Don’t push.” I stood and gestured toward the door. “Thanks for dinner, though.”

  “My pleasure. Good-night then.” He gave Duke a pat on the head and showed himself out.

  I locked the door, set the alarm, and dragged my tired ass off to bed. I felt mentally and physically drained, and it didn’t take long to fall asleep into awful dreams.

  I was back at Rick Miller’s hous
e. This time, when we searched the basement, we found metal cuffs hanging from the wall. They were processed for blood and epithelial cells but came up clean. We checked the floor out too, but no trace was found anywhere. I could hear him laughing upstairs, and it made my skin crawl. The bastard knew we wouldn’t find anything.

  I turned toward Liam. “Do you think he used bleach to clean up?”

  He nodded. “Yes, the luminol isn’t detecting anything, so it’s possible he used oxygen bleach to clean it up. Regular chlorine bleach would still pop positive. Unfortunately, we don’t have anything to charge him.” He motioned for everyone to pack up. “Let’s get out of here.”

  I yelled out in my sleep and sprang up in bed with sweat running down my body.

  “No, we’re not going to lose this case,” I promised myself aloud.

  I knew I wouldn’t fall back to sleep, even though it was only 3:30, so I got up and made espresso and sat down to pour over my forensics books.

  IT WAS EARLY in the morning, and he watched the curator bustle around her house, getting ready for work. He had to stay out of sight from the neighbors, passersby, and of course, her husband. It was all part of his game, though. He liked the challenge. It just proved how much smarter he was than everyone else.

  He ducked behind some thick shrubs when her husband came out the front door. The large man was completely oblivious to him and quickly backed down the driveway. Now was his chance, and he didn’t waste a minute of it. He knocked lightly on the front door and was greeted by their yapping small poodle.

  “Did you forget your keys again?” Tiffany Clark hollered. Her eyes bugged out when she opened the door and saw him standing there. “Mr. Peirick, what are you doing here? This is highly unortho—”

  He cut her off quickly. She didn’t even have time to scream when she saw him pull out the taser. She crumpled to the floor in front of her useless yapping dog.

  He carried her to the garage and put her in the passenger seat of her car. Then he climbed into the driver’s seat and opened the garage door to back out and head home. He’d already covered her mouth with chloroform to make sure she remained out cold.

  He was on North Tucker Boulevard, minding the speed limit, when red and blue flashing lights lit up behind him. He pulled his hat down over his eyes and slowly pulled over, assuming the cop would drive on by. He didn’t, however. He pulled up behind Mrs. Clark’s Volvo.

  His heart pounded fiercely in his ears as the officer approached. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead and stung his eyes when it dripped. He wiped the rest away just as the officer made it to his window.

  “Good morning. I pulled you over because you have a taillight out. May I see your license and registration, please?” He noticed the sleeping woman then, and his brows pulled together. “What’s wrong with her?”

  “My wife has a hangover this morning, so I picked her up from work. We’re just headed home,” he lied and let his hand slip toward the taser in his pocket while he pretended to dig for his wallet.

  “Well, you need to get that looked at as soon as you can for your safety. I won’t cite you, but I still need to see your—”

  A loud page from his CB radio cut him off, and he pressed the button on his attached microphone. “Officer five-six-two responding,” he announced. “Get that fixed!” he shouted while running back to his patrol car. He quickly sped off into traffic with his sirens blaring.

  He looked over at the sleeping woman. “That was close, wasn’t it?” he asked while patting her knee. She didn’t even stir, and he hoped he didn’t overdose her with the chloroform. That would be no fun for him. “Come on, honey. Let’s get you home. I think Tamara is lonely.”

  BUZZING ON FOUR espressos, I made it to SLCPD before the others. Captain Roman approached my desk when he noticed me.

  “You’re in early,” he observed. “Couldn’t sleep?”

  I looked up from my notes and charts. “Nope. I’ve been up since 3:30. I’ve read over every criminology and forensic book I have trying to figure this clown out. Someone has to pay, Boss.”

  He smiled and tapped his fingers on my desk. “I knew I hired you for a reason. You always did get things done down in the Drug Unit. I’m sure we can all benefit from your dedication to the job.”

  I felt myself blush from the compliment. “Well, thank you, and I hope I don’t let you or the team down.”

  “I’m sure you won’t. Now, I need to go update the chief of police, so I’ll check with you all in a bit. Keep up the good work and show the FBI how it’s done.”

  It would be nice if the FBI agents were being of real assistance.

  The elevator chimed, and the others stepped off. I cringed when Eric handed me my coffee.

  “What’s that look about?” he laughed.

  I smiled. “Let’s just say I’ve had a lot of coffee this morning.”

  “That’s good because you’re going to need it,” Liam mumbled. “We have to finish knocking on doors and hopefully turn something up this time.”

  “When we’re finished in Wildwood, we’ll go on to Eureka,” Marisol offered, and he nodded in approval.

  “Right, and we’ll go to Town and Country, but if we don’t turn anything up, then I don’t know where we’ll look next,” he replied with a disgusted sigh.

  “We’re going with you today,” Agent Pullum announced when he stepped around the corner. “Agent Gould will go with the ladies, and I’ll go with you gentlemen. Agent Amos got called back to the office on another case.”

  Great. Big Sister will be watching.

  Since Agent Gould was with us, we didn’t need the local police for jurisdiction, but Officer Fisk knew the roads, so we met him at the station and piled into his patrol car. “Since we’ve got a full car, I’ll have to call for back-up if we need to bring someone in.”

  Agent Gould mumbled, “With this guy, you’re going to need it anyway.” I couldn’t help but think she was probably right.

  We went back to each house we’d tried yesterday that didn’t have someone home, and we got lucky on the first two houses. No one answered at the third house, so we walked around the perimeter, looking in through the basement windows. We didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, and it was the last one on our list, so we went back to our car at the station and left for Eureka.

  We met with Chief Thomas, and she set us up with Officer Terri Devos, who was more than happy to assist. “I’ve been watching this story develop on the news, and I wanted to be able to help,” she gushed.

  “We’ll take all the help we can get,” I mentioned, and Marisol enthusiastically nodded in agreement.

  We started at the closest address and searched the property with the owner’s permission. The man was surprised to see us but cooperative, which made me think he wasn’t our guy before we even started looking around. His outbuilding was a storage shed for his riding lawnmower and lawn maintenance supplies, and the extra amenity to the home was another guest room he’d added on. We thanked him for his cooperation and went to the next address. No one was home, so we peeked in the windows. It was too difficult to see much, though, because of thick black curtains. We marked that address as one to come back to. The other homes were cleared.

  “There are some wooded areas in Parkdale too,” Officer Devos mentioned. “And it’s near here. Do you want to check it out?”

  Marisol answered for us. “Yes, let’s go have a look and see if anything turns up. Although, we don’t have a printout of the houses to look at, so we’ll just have to drive around to look for outbuildings. That won’t help with special permits, though.”

  “That’s fine. I’m on the clock,” the officer laughed.

  I called Er
ic to see if they were having any luck, and he said they had a few houses to circle back to; otherwise, nothing struck them as out of the ordinary yet. I told him we were going to check Parkdale and then head back to SLCPD. Then I called the Jefferson County Assessor’s Office and spoke to a clerk in Real Property. I explained the situation and requested a list of properties with the modifications and outbuildings to be emailed to me. She was reluctant, so I put Agent Gould on the line with her, and that did the trick. I had the list in my inbox within a few minutes. Fortunately, there weren’t that many.

  I plugged the first address into my GPS locator, and we were on our way. The home was inhabited by an elderly couple, who had built on an entertainment room for their grandchildren. We took their word for it and went to the next address. No one was home, and the basement windows were covered by thick curtains, so we’d have to circle back to it. We went to the next two, cleared them, and then went back to the questionable one. No one was home yet, so it was time to call it quits. We went back to the Eureka Police Department, and Chief Thomas said she’d contact the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Office on the Parkdale address we needed to check out yet, and she’d revisit the one house in Eureka too.

  The guys had a few homes in Town and Country that required another visit also. Two had outbuildings, while the other had a special building permit for an attachment.

  “Did you touch the outbuildings to see if they were cold?” I asked them.

  Eric blushed. “No, but I suppose that would’ve been a good idea.”

  I chuckled at him. “Hindsight is twenty-twenty, right?”

  “Yep.” He looked at his watch. “It’s quitting time I suppose, or is there something else for today, Boss?” he asked Captain Roman.

  “No, go home and get your rest. Tomorrow, we need to come up with a plan B,” he replied.

  HIS HEART POUNDED for five minutes after the police left his property. Detective Delossa was even lovelier in person, and it made him want to adjust his portrait of her. However, he had other concerns to worry about. For one thing, how the hell did they find his home? What made them want to look there? His neighbors were miles away, so he knew they hadn’t seen or heard anything suspicious. He had the strong feeling they’d be back, too, so how would he handle that?