Feeling a swirl of sickness in her belly at her thought, she turned her eyes away and tried to find Mitch. Unable to see him, she entered the swollen church.
Young altar boys stood by the door holding bowls of holy water, offering people sanctification before they entered. Salvi walked straight past them. She found a place along the back wall to stand and studied those present. The family of Sharon Gleamer were obvious. Sitting at the front, their blond hair and crying faces giving them away. Salvi spotted Tobias sitting with them, equally stricken. His roommate Kevin sat beside him, and a few pews back was Ellie Felling with her mother. Not far from them were the Gleamers’ neighbors, the Fizzraeli family. She saw little Lucy with her red hair, face turned right around staring at Salvi with that accusing furrow in her brow. Then she noticed Attis Solme, dressed in a fine suit and bolo. He walked up to the Gleamers, passed on his condolences, then took a seat in the pew behind them.
Eventually her eyes fell on Mitch. He was standing against the wall on the opposite side of the church. He glanced her way, gave her a brief nod of acknowledgment before he turned his eyes away again. Given his state last night, he looked fine. She wondered if he’d taken a ReVitalize shot or two to pull himself together in time. Her eyes lingered on him as she recalled him accentuating her name; recalled his thumb parting her lips.
She moved her eyes over the gathered crowd again, until they landed on Graeme Vowker, who now stood at the lectern. The church quietened down, and the preacher began to talk of sending Sharon Gleamer safely into the hands of God in heaven.
Salvi managed to stomach about twenty minutes before she had to step outside. The talk was enough, but even the hymns were starting to grate on her. Outside, the fresh air, despite the chill, was a welcome relief. Although speakers had been set up for those who couldn’t fit into the church – so Vowker’s voice and the songs of prayer came with her. There was no escape.
She saw the Serenes huddled together out front, faces tilted down, eyes closed, hands clasped together in prayer. In the middle of the clump of Serenes stood the Subjugates in a similar pose.
All except two, that is.
Both Edward Moses and Lucius Dolles were distracted.
Moses had looked up from his prayers as she had exited the church, and Dolles was looking off to the side at a dog sniffing a tree and lifting its hind leg to pee.
Bander, who had been beside the group, stepped toward her.
“Detective,” he said quietly, motioning her to follow him away from the Serenes. She did so. He looked back at his wards. “We don’t disrupt them when they’re at mass. It’s important they listen and atone for their sins.”
“I thought they weren’t encouraged to think of their prior sins?”
“We’re all sinners,” he said with a smile. “And we have all sinned. What those sins are is irrelevant, so long as we repent.”
“And what if you haven’t sinned?” she asked. “Why must you then repent? Why punish yourself when no harm has been done.”
“No one is free from sin,” he said, raising his finger and tapping his temple. “It’s human nature to think about sinning on a daily basis. That’s what we’re trying to teach the Subjugates. Every day they must cleanse their thoughts. They must offer themselves to God.”
Salvi looked back at them, clustered together in a sea of beige. Moses and Dolles’ faces were tilted down again, their eyes closed.
“I was thinking,” she said, “about Fontan Pragge.”
“Subjugate-12,” he corrected her.
“Subjugate-12.” She gave a nod in acknowledgment. “Why hasn’t he been converted to a Serene as yet? His number is twelve. That means he’s been a part of the Solme Complex for a long time.”
“Subjugate-12 will never be a Serene.”
“Why?”
Bander looked at her in study. “Because of his mental capacity. His brain no longer functions like a normal adult.”
“So, he will never know right from wrong?” she asked, sharpening her eyes on his. Bander’s eyes sharpened on hers in return and a smile slid across his face.
“No one from the Solme Complex did this,” he said, motioning back to Sharon Gleamer’s funeral.
“How can you be so sure?” she asked.
His smile grew wider, as he pulled out his baton and tapped it in his other hand. “Because I personally make sure of that.”
The door to the church opened and they looked back to see Mitch standing there. His eyes fell on Bander, Salvi, and the baton. He moved toward them, and as he did, all the Serenes and Subjugates stared at them.
“Everything alright?” Mitch asked.
“Yes,” she said, although Mitch wasn’t looking at her.
“I was just explaining to Detective Brentt, how you’re looking in the wrong place for your killer,” Bander told Mitch, putting his baton away.
“Are we?” Mitch said. “Where should we look, then?”
Bander shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s not my job.”
“No, it’s not,” Mitch said. “So, you stick to what you know,” he motioned to the Serenes, “and leave us to what we know. Which is finding killers.”
“You better hurry up and do your job, then,” Bander said, “before another body washes up.” With that Bander walked off toward the Serenes, who were still watching them. The caretaker pulled out his baton again and slapped it hard into his hand, sending their eyes to the ground again.
Salvi studied Mitch. “You’re looking better than you did last night.”
He tore his eyes away from Bander and the Serenes to look back at her. “What are you doing out here?”
She shrugged. “Couldn’t stand listening to Vowker. Didn’t realize his voice carried out here.”
Mitch didn’t say anything, just stared at her, analyzing her like he did. Any mention of Vowker igniting the curiosity in his eyes.
“So how much ReVitalize did it take to resurrect you today?” she asked, trying to shift his focus.
He didn’t answer her, just turned around and walked back inside the church.
The wake was held in the Children of Christ’s hall. The Serenes acted as waiters, fetching people drinks and handing out food. The Subjugates stood back behind the long tables, stirring pots of soup and buttering bread, keeping their eyes down. Salvi’s attention kept falling on Subjugate-52, watching him, eager to interview him. He barely said a word, barely looked at anyone, only interacted with the other Serenes, stayed well back behind the tables.
Salvi stood alone by the door sipping a coffee that Serene-41 had furnished her with. Mitch was on the other side of the hall talking with Sheriff Holt. She was starting to think he was avoiding her. Tobias walked past and she gave him a friendly smile, but he turned his eyes away and continued on like he didn’t know her. Or perhaps, like he didn’t want her to know his dirty little secret. Ellie Felling, too, looked down into her lap when she’d made eye contact with the girl. Then there were the Fizzraelis. The mother still refused to make eye contact but her daughter, Sophia, more than made up for it. The little redheaded girl didn’t take her glaring eyes off Salvi. She was starting to get the feeling the town wanted her to leave; not liking what she represented, uncomfortable with what her presence meant.
In that moment, Salvi had never felt more like an outsider. And here, in this crowd, that didn’t bother her one bit. These people would never be her tribe.
“I’m so glad you could attend the mass,” Vowker said, approaching. “Although I realize you’re probably here in a professional capacity, but I hope you got something out of it?”
“No,” she said bluntly, “I didn’t.”
Vowker took a moment, then smiled patiently. “Well, I guess in order to get something out of it, you would need to open yourself to it in the first place.”
“I open myself to the truth. To reality. You’re the ones hiding from the world and pretending it doesn’t exist.”
“We know it exists. We just don’t allow the
devil to infect our souls. We are strong of mind. We are not weak. We will not be slaves to sin.”
Salvi stared at him. “Thank you for volunteering to give us your DNA sample.” She hadn’t tried to lower her voice. “We hope to have the results soon and clear you from our suspects list.” Vowker’s face paled and he looked around uneasily before returning his eyes to her.
“I feel for you, Detective,” he said quietly, narrowing his eyes in study. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you before.”
“What?” she asked sarcastically, “anyone so closed off to your bullshit mind control?”
“Anyone so closed off, period,” he said quickly, before his eyes softened with sadness, with pity. “So hostile. So bitter. So vengeful. You are sad, and lonely, and dead inside, Detective. You’ve let hate eat away at your soul… I know you think it’s too late to heal yourself, but it’s never too late. You just need to open up and let people in. Let God–”
“And how do you recommend I open up?” she said a little loudly, a little tersely. “Like Sharon Gleamer and Rebecca Carson did?”
He stepped backward, aghast, like she was some horrible beast he couldn’t comprehend. Then he turned and walked away shaking his head in hopelessness and maybe disgust.
Salvi clenched her teeth and noticed she’d drawn attention. Mitch and Holt were staring at her, as were Bander and Attis Solme, and the Subjugates and Serenes, the Fizzraelis, the Fellings, Tobias. She met their stares and confronted each one, until they looked away. Then she turned and left the hall, dumping her coffee cup on the nearest table as she did.
Salvi didn’t bother waiting for Mitch. They’d taken separate vehicles anyway, so she got into her Zenith and headed back to the hub. She didn’t know why, but she just had to get out of Bountiful and away from the preacher’s words, telling her she was dead inside.
She sat at her desk and went over the forensic reports of the two vics, staring at their photographs, willing herself to hit on something to catch the killer. What Bander had said to Mitch outside the church played on her mind. It was their job to catch this guy, and so far they hadn’t. Now two women were dead. If they didn’t do something fast, he would probably strike again.
The forensic report from Weston had confirmed the perp’s bodily fluids were found at the second scene as well, but no clothing fibers or hair, pubic or otherwise, were found at either. No hair…
Her mind ran over the two Subjugates in town the day of both murders: Moses and Dolles. She wondered again why the victims were left face down. Did the killer feel guilt? Could he not look them in the eyes? Or did he think they were beneath him? That they were just pieces of meat and nothing more? Or could it maybe be a little of both?
Her iPort signaled an incoming call. It was Mitch. She didn’t want to speak to him right now. She ignored it.
Riverton suddenly appeared on her console display.
“Detective Brentt,” it said. “Footage recorded from Detective Grenville’s holo-badge at the funeral has now been uploaded to the case file, and all known residents now logged in our facial recognition software have been identified. Yesterday’s interviews have also been transcribed and the timeline for Rebecca Carson’s case has been established and linked where appropriate. I have also captured the similarities between this case and Sharon Gleamer’s in a linked document.”
“Thank you, Riverton,” she said.
“I have one other thing to report, Detective.”
“Yes?”
“Senior Detective Hernandez accessed both case files this morning and viewed their contents.”
Salvi paused. “He did?”
“Yes.” Riverton displayed the access log.
“He just viewed it?” Salvi asked.
“Yes. As per SFPD protocol, editing is locked to all but the assigned officers.”
“Anyone else been checking up on us?”
“Only Detective Lieutenant Ford.”
“Right…” she said. “Thank you, Riverton. End request.”
Salvi sat at her desk, mind racing. Why the hell was Hernandez checking their case files? Ford’s name on the log didn’t surprise her, she often did so to keep herself abreast of the current caseloads. But Hernandez?
When he walked in ten minutes later, she fixed her eyes on him. He noticed her intense stare and approached.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“You tell me?” she said.
“Where’s your partner?” he asked, motioning to Mitch’s empty desk.
“What’s it to you?” she said.
He studied her a moment, then shrugged. “You’re his partner. You should know where he is.”
“I’m not his keeper.”
“You should be,” Hernandez said, then leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Look, Salvi, you got a serial killer out there, and your partner’s unstable. That’s a big fucking problem right there. Do you understand what I’m saying here?”
A deep furrow crossed Salvi’s brow. “Mitch is fine. We’re gonna catch him.”
“You got two vics now. So where is your partner? Drinking?”
“I know where Mitch is, Hernandez,” she lied. “We’re handling this.”
“Are you?”
“What’s it to you anyway? And why have you been checking our case files? You trying to take Ford’s job?”
“Someone’s gotta keep an eye on things.”
“I said Mitch is fine. Stay out of my case.”
“No, Salv,” he said carefully, as though explaining something to a child, his eyes boring into hers. “Your partner’s unstable, and you have a serial killer on the loose.”
“We’re doing our best, alright?”
“No, Salv,” he repeated, leaning closer. “You’re not listening. Your partner’s unstable, and you got a serial killer out there. That’s an explosive mix. Odd they’re happening at the same time, don’t you think?”
Salvi finally got his meaning and jerked her head back as her mouth fell open. “Are… are you kidding me?” she said. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
He stared back at her. “I’m just saying keep your eye on him, Salv. He’s got a past. You’re his partner. You’re the only one who can vouch for him.”
Salvi shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you just said that to me. What the fuck, Hernandez?”
“Look, do yourself a favor and go see Stan, alright?”
“What? Why?”
“Because he’s got some information on your partner that you should know.”
Salvi stared at him. “And he told you this information?”
Hernandez nodded.
“So why don’t you tell it to me, then?”
Hernandez shook his head. “’Cause you won’t listen to me. But you always listened to Stan. So, go see him. Go listen to what he has to say… Mia.”
With that, Hernandez left, and Salvi sat in shock watching him go.
Salvi exhaled heavily. She didn’t know what she was doing here. She contemplated turning around, but then changed her mind. She raised her hand and pressed the buzzer on the door.
She heard the sound of a dog barking from within. She frowned, wondering when Stan had gotten himself a dog. A few seconds passed before Conchetta Stanlevski’s voice sounded over a speaker by the door.
“Oh! Would you look at that, it’s Salvi Brentt!”
The door unlocked and opened, and Conchetta’s plump frame and rosy cheeks beamed a big smile at her.
“Salvi!” she said. “How you doing? What brings you here?”
Salvi smiled as she saw the source of the barking. A virtual dog bounced around Conchetta’s feet, projected from a small round disc on wheels. It looked like the Golden Retriever model. “I, er… I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d say hi to Stan, while I was around. He about?”
“Sure,” she said, before Stan appeared beside her.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” he said, the old man’s voice sounding craggi
er than Beggs’.
Conchetta hit him. “Stanley! Where’s your manners!”
Stan looked at his wife as he pointed at Salvi. “I got a witness, right there, to your domestic violence,” he told Conchetta.
Conchetta chuckled a wheezing laugh and hit him again. She looked back at Salvi. “He’s lucky I don’t kill him, the years he’s put me through.”
Salvi smiled, and Stan ushered her inside their cozy apartment. Conchetta disappeared into another room and the virtual dog bounced alongside Stan as he led her to a small balcony on the opposite side of the apartment. Salvi stepped onto the balcony and saw a thick wall of apartments ahead and an alleyway with rubbish bins below. Stan closed the door behind him, tapped a small console on the wall that sent the balcony cover down, blocking off the view as a light came on overhead.
“Where shall we go,” he muttered to himself, looking at the console. He made a selection, and the balcony covering suddenly turned into a gorgeous view of palm trees and crystal blue beach. The light overhead turned warm like the sun and she heard seagulls in the distance.
“Hawaii?” Salvi smiled.
“What, you want Paris?” he grumbled. “You’ve always been a city girl, Salv. Well screw you, this is my retirement.” He motioned for her to sit down.
“Hawaii’s good,” she chuckled, taking the proffered seat as the virtual dog raised its front legs up onto Stan, who stood by the door.
“Down!” Stan said. “Sit!” The virtual dog sat, tongue hanging out the side of its mouth as it panted, staring at Stan.
“I never took you for a pet owner,” Salvi said, as Stan leaned back against the wall.
He waved her off. “Conchetta kept nagging me.” He shrugged. “At least this thing doesn’t shit or need walks. Although apparently there’s a setting for that, for realism, but I asked them to shut that off at the store.”
Salvi smiled. “Does it have a name?”
The Subjugate Page 19
