“Alright. I’ve put in a request to rush through the rape kit as well. You should have the results tomorrow morning. Let’s hope we confirm some DNA and get a hit on CODIS.”
“Let’s hope,” Mitch said.
“Remember it’s a delicate situation and it needs to be handled carefully. You got it? Let’s make sure our evidence is tight. The Solme Complex seem to be doing good work out there, so we gotta be sure where we point the finger.”
They both nodded and watched Ford leave for the night. Salvi looked back at Mitch.
“Thanks for the heads-up, partner,” she said sarcastically.
A smile curled the corner of his mouth, but before he could retort, Beggs and Caine walked in.
“Hey!” Beggs greeted them, his craggy face indicating he probably wasn’t too far behind Stan in retiring. “Pulling an all-nighter?”
“Gotta work that golden forty-eight hours, right?” Salvi said.
“Ain't that the truth,” Beggs said, as he and his partner Caine came to stand near their desks. “We just came from McClusky’s. Hernandez and Bronte are still there, if you want a drink to clear your head.”
“Thanks, but no thanks,” Salvi said.
“We would’ve stayed longer,” Beggs said, motioning to Caine, “but pretty boy here needs his beauty sleep.”
Caine smiled his Hollywood smile. The guys always teased him about his good looks, Hernandez and Bronte often referring to Beggs and Caine as “the mobster and the movie star”.
“Hey, it’s OK to be jealous, Beggs,” Caine said. “I understand. I got this beautiful face and you look like you’ve been hit with a shovel. I get it.”
“Yeah, you’ll keep, junior,” Beggs said, walking off.
“Sure thing, old man.” Caine smiled again, following him.
Salvi shook her head and looked back at Mitch.
A chime sounded and they both looked at their console displays as their AI, Riverton, appeared in its golden androgynous form on the display.
“Detectives,” it greeted them. “All the interviews undertaken today have been translated and can now be found in your case file, along with the notes submitted from Sheriff Holt. The timeline has also been established and the relevant witness testimonies linked where applicable. I’ve also submitted the warrant to access phone records of the victim.”
“Thanks, Riverton,” Mitch replied. “Can you also cross check all clients of the vet store where Sharon worked against any of the homes off the electrical grid and most likely using BioLume lighting?”
“Yes, Detective. Please note the information I provide will be of 89 percent accuracy, as those living off the grid may not be using BioLume lighting and instead may use candlelight or other methods. My records indicate Bountiful as a high consumer of candles for its population size.”
“Understood, Riverton,” Mitch said. “It’ll be hard to get immediate accuracy with the pullaways being offline as they are. Sometimes we gotta do things the hard way.”
“Do you require anything else from me at this time?”
“No,” he said. “That’s it for now. End request.”
“Good evening, Detectives.”
Riverton disappeared from their screens and Mitch checked his watch. “Let’s call it a night.”
“Yeah,” she said, then looked about. “Sadie!” She heard the whirring as the robo-cleaner emerged from its holding cupboard and approached her. Salvi placed their take-out boxes in its receptacle and Sadie whirred off again.
They both stood, grabbed their coats and headed for the door.
“I want to head off early,” Mitch said. “Maybe if I pick you up from your place–”
“No,” she said. Maybe a little too quickly because he gave a curious glance. “Here at the hub works better for me.”
“Alright,” he said. “See you in the morning.”
Mitch headed to the Raider and she moved to her compact, pearl-colored Zenith. It was the perfect kind of car for zipping around the city, although perhaps a little extravagant for a cop’s salary.
She noticed that Mitch waited for her to leave first. She threw him a wave, then checked her rearview cameras to make sure he hadn’t followed.
Salvi walked into the grand foyer of her apartment complex. As she did, the auto-concierge came to life, projected from the sensor console on the wall.
“Good evening, Miss Brentt!” It smiled, the image reflecting in the white polished tiles on the floor. She eyed the hologram. It was so lifelike, it kind of freaked her out a little. She didn’t respond to it, but instead headed straight for the elevator.
As she entered her apartment and the door closed behind her, she listened for the musical chime of her digital lock indicating the apartment was secure. The lights came on automatically as she made her way into the open-plan living space. A single door stood to the left leading to her bedroom and bathroom. The white walls were aglow with soft lighting and it instantly made her relax. This was her personal space, the place where she locked herself away from the world outside. The world of murderers, rapists and thieves. This was her comfy cloud; her cushioning from reality.
She walked into her bedroom, unholstered her gun and placed it on her bedside table, then removed the iPort from her wrist, the lenses from her eyes, and the ear bud from her ear. Shedding the tools of her job was the first step to releasing the day and relaxing.
Her apartment was in the Sky Tower complex, of which there were four separate buildings. Standing tall and slim like shiny silver-white needles, they formed an integral part of the city skyline. Her Sky Tower, number 4, offered a view over the city and the Golden Gate Bridge beyond. When it wasn’t covered in fog, that is. She often found herself staring out the floor-to-ceiling glass panes into the night. The lights twinkling all around her were inviting and peaceful, but only at first. Soon she would spot the rotation of police drones flying around the city. And soon enough she would start wondering what was happening out there behind those lights, in the buildings, in the depraved minds of the people living within them. And inevitably, she would walk away from the view then, not wanting to think about it any more.
Salvi hid the location of her home from her co-workers. An inheritance had enabled her to buy this apartment and her Zenith, and it was something that not many people in her line of work would understand; to live in this luxury by night and slum it with murderers by day. Being a cop was deemed the kind of job that girls with money shouldn’t want to dirty themselves in. But Salvi didn’t buy into that. She wanted to make a difference. She wanted justice to be dealt for those who could no longer claim it for themselves. So why should money stop her from doing that. Not all criminals were poor and uneducated. Some were rich and smart. Some were people just like her, so why shouldn’t she use her skills to catch them?
She’d been working in homicide for three years now. Her old partner, Stan Stanlevski had finally retired in June, and that’s when Mitch had transferred out from Chicago to fill his spot. Well, official word was that Mitch had transferred, but the story going around was that the transfer wasn’t Mitch’s doing. Word was that Mitch was sent away for a fresh start after his girlfriend’s murder, because he was on the verge of burning out. Or lashing out. But Salvi wasn’t sure moving locations would help much with that. She knew from personal experience that no matter how far someone traveled, it was hard to escape the memories of the past.
At first Mitch had kept to himself, but as the weeks had rolled on, little by little, she saw the emotion inside that would occasionally bubble over. On the last case with the killer mugger, after Salvi had tripped the guy and Mitch stepped in to subdue him, he’d done so a lot more roughly than was required. But Salvi knew that sometimes you had to do what you had to do. So it was hard to judge him on that. When your life was spent dealing with dead bodies, crying family members, and lying perps, emotions were bound to bubble over at some point. She had always managed to keep her emotions in check, despite how difficult it could be sometime
s. In some ways she actually envied him for being so in touch with his feelings. For not being afraid to let go.
But still, she also knew that feelings could get messy. Feelings could make you miss important evidence. Feelings could make you overstep the mark. And he had. With that comment about her sex life today and his curiosity over her animosity toward the preacher. It was the first time he’d shown any interest in her life outside of work. It made her uncomfortable. Stanlevski rarely talked personal stuff with her, and if he did it would be an offhand comment about his wife Conchetta or his adult children. And she liked that. He never pried into her life. He’d learned from the start that she was a guarded person and he never tried to fight it. Maybe because Stan was a little like herself.
But Mitch, she was starting to realize, wasn’t.
She turned on her entertainment portal, to get her mind thinking about other things. While she ate a pre-prepared, nutritional micro-dinner, she watched a current affairs show spouting the latest figures of tech addiction and the spiraling resultant crime wave. Afterward she moved to the corner of her living room where she had a small workout space set up. She ran for a while on a treadmill, then lifted some weights, then moved into her bathroom and took a long hot shower under the hydro-spray, as the streams of water massaged her tired muscles. When she was done, she donned a robe and made her way to the windows once more where she wondered briefly what Sharon Gleamer’s killer was doing right now.
She moved into her bedroom, to her soft white bed, and snuggled down into it. She longed for sleep, but images of the day kept circling her thoughts. Sharon’s pretty blue eyes, her crying parents, little Sophia with her hands upon the opened Bible, Tobias Brook’s pale face and his shaking hands, Ellie’s tears for a lost childhood friend, and Preacher Vowker’s proffered card.
Especially Vowker and his proffered card.
She saw his face analyzing hers and recalled the words he’d said to her before they’d parted. The gall of him to offer counseling when he knew nothing about her.
She fought hard to clear her mind but found herself tossing and turning. She reached up to the console embedded in the wall above her bed and engaged the SleepHarmony program. It came to life and suddenly there were numerous 3D jellyfish swimming about her, their long tendrils flowing gently as they moved to soft, soothing music. She focused her breathing and eyed the muted colors of pink and purple and blue.
But still she couldn’t sleep.
She realized there was something else clawing at her psyche, that would not leave her alone. And she knew what it was. Giving in to it, she threw back her sheets, pulled herself out of her bed and turned the lights on. She eyed the set of drawers opposite her bed, beneath her inbuilt entertainment screen. She moved toward the top drawer, pausing a moment, before pulling it open.
Before her were three rows of neatly folded blouses in shades of white and gray. She reached in and slid her hand beneath the left-most pile, right to the very back corner. When her fingers touched the soft silken material of the pouch, she paused again, then pulled it forward.
The golds of the silken material shone in the lights. She traced her fingers over the front of the pouch, then slid them beneath the press-stud button and flicked it open. She inhaled and exhaled for a single breath, then reached her fingers inside and curled them around the contents. Slowly, as though pulling out a rattlesnake, she raised her hand in line with her face. She stared at the dangling rosary beads as they hung limply before her; the cross hanging off the end like a tear drop that failed the shed. She turned the beads and the cross around in her hands for a moment, thinking of Vowker, and thinking of… them.
A sensation of tightness in her throat and the sting of a tear in her eye took her by surprise.
She quickly stuffed the beads back into the pouch and slid them underneath the shirts, into the far corner again. Shutting the drawer and moving to her bed, she cursed herself for letting Vowker get to her. She lay back down in her bed and pumped up the intensity of the jellyfish swimming around her, then drowned herself within.
Chapter Three
Confessions
Salvi approached Mitch, waiting in the Raider outside the station hub. The engine was purring softly like a kitten, such a contrast to the hard, sleek, black body of the vehicle. He popped the door open with a hydraulic hiss and she sat down in the passenger seat, the aroma of strong coffee filling her senses. Mitch handed her a tall takeout cup, her usual order. She gave a nod in thanks and he set the Raider in motion.
“Weston confirmed cause of death was strangulation,” Mitch told her, motioning to the Raider’s high-tech console and the screen displaying the relevant report. “The vic was raped, possibly more than once. They’re still waiting on the results of the kit to figure out if there was more than one perp, but we should have them soon going by what Ford said last night.”
Salvi nodded. She’d just finished reading the report at her desk inside the hub.
“Swaggert got minute traces of the BioLume from the front door to the basement,” Mitch continued. “It’s evenly spread until the basement door, then the traces appear more erratically placed. Looks like the initial attack happened there, then he’s dragged her down into the basement.”
“So, she knew the killer,” Salvi said. “She let him inside the house, walked down the hallway as far as the basement door before he attacked her.”
Mitch nodded. “Unless she left her door unlocked and he walked in and surprised her.”
“If she knew him, the question is, did they argue over something first?” Salvi mused aloud. “Or was the attack a surprise to her?”
“I think the attack was premeditated,” Mitch said. “He knew her parents were away. He knew she’d be alone. The scene is otherwise pretty clean. If he didn’t plan it and it was spur of the moment, then he’s smart. No one saw anything, and he’s covered his tracks pretty well.”
Salvi stared out the window in thought, watching as the SlingShot train whizzed by, a blur of curved mirrored windows. “It might not have been planned. He might have seen an opportunity and seized the moment,” she said. “He came onto her and she rejected him, making him angry. Or he outright attacked her, knowing she was alone. Then cleaned up after himself, but he didn’t notice the minute traces of the BioLume on the floor. There were no windows in the basement. He had the house lights on and didn’t notice.” She looked back at Mitch. “Forensics bagged up the cleaning products and they found no fingerprints. Looks like he wore gloves. This guy did everything he could to remove all traces and stop himself being caught.”
Mitch nodded again. “Like I said, he’s smart. I think he’s been through this before and knows what got him caught last time.”
Salvi glanced at him, knew what Mitch was thinking: that it was one of the Subjugates from the Solme Complex.
“Maybe,” she said. “Let’s just wait for the kit, huh? Perps always leave DNA at the scene, no matter how careful they are.”
“Which is only good to us if he’s already on the system somewhere. I doubt there’s many folks in Bountiful with a prior record. The Subjugates however …”
She threw him a glance. “I think the key here is the BioLume.”
“Speaking of which,” Mitch said, “I asked Riverton to look into the hardware store where Tobias Brook works. Turns out they’re the biggest seller in town for BioLume products.”
Salvi eyed Mitch again, staring ahead at the road as he drove. He’d obviously worked on the case from home last night. “The Children of Christ seem quite devout,” she said. “Sharon and Tobias were apparently strong in their faith.”
Mitch shrugged. “Maybe he got sick and tired of being devout?”
“She was tortured, Mitch. Raped, possibly more than once, then he carved the word ‘pure’ into her. This wasn’t about sex, this was about control. About punishment.”
“I know,” he said, looking over at her. “This was about someone who lost control and wanted to punish her for it.�
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Salvi stared at him, then turned her eyes back to the road again, sipping her coffee. “Her family knew everyone in the town. A lot of those homes have BioLume lighting. That’s a long list for us to get through to narrow it down.” She looked out the window again. “And let’s not forget the SlingShot. How long does that take from the City? Twenty minutes? And how many communities does it service on the way to Seattle and back to LA? That provides access for a whole lot of people.”
“Yeah,” he said. “But you saw the way people looked at us in Bountiful. We were strangers. A stranger walking around Bountiful on the afternoon that Sharon was killed would be noticed.”
Salvi smiled in amusement. “We were the only ones in town wearing black.”
“I think people would notice if a stranger drove in or walked in off the SlingShot, wearing black or not,” he said not sharing her humor. “It would have to be someone people wouldn’t think twice about. Someone invisible.”
Salvi nodded. “Until the evidence proves otherwise we assume it was a local.”
“Until we can speak with the Solme Complex, then Tobias stays on our suspect list.”
“It’s odd that he hadn’t seen her for a few days,” Salvi said. “One minute they’re spending all this time together, enough to make her fight with Ellie, then suddenly their contact stops.”
“Maybe the fight with Ellie triggered Sharon to stop seeing him.”
“But even after she hadn’t seen him for a few days, she still wasn’t talking to Ellie. No, something else happened.”
“Between Tobias and Sharon?” Mitch shrugged. “Maybe the Children of Christ weren’t so chaste after all.”
“Maybe,” Salvi said. “Or maybe they’d agreed to spend time apart so as not to risk their vows.”
Mitch chuckled. “Innocent until proven guilty, huh?”
“Yeah, that’s how it’s supposed to go,” she said.
“Except with the preacher.” He smiled, eyes twinkling.
Salvi gave him a blank stare.
The Subjugate Page 6
