“I will,” she promises.
I turn away from her, each step taking an unusual amount of effort because I don’t know when I’ll feel at home like this again.
* * *
I place a bright blue puzzle piece next to two other puzzle pieces, but they don’t fit together. I now have eleven blue puzzle pieces and I’ve managed to get none of them to fit together. If there is a god, I have a feeling He’s giving me a metaphor for my life.
My father, who is sitting across from me at the at Thousand Polaris Rehabilitation’s recreation area, has finished the first three rows of the puzzle’s grass. I have no idea what this puzzle’s picture is supposed to be—it was in a ziplock bag when we grabbed it—but I have a feeling it’s not going to be a Smith & Wesson or a bottle of Bourbon, both which would be nice to have right now.
“It looks like you’re having some trouble,” my father remarks.
“The first step is admitting that you have a problem,” I mutter.
“Do you know what the second and third steps are?”
“I’m guessing they’re along the lines of don’t drink and continue to not drink.”
“The second step is to put your faith in the knowledge that God will be able to help you,” he says, ignoring my comment. “And the third step is to give yourself over to God, so that He can make you into a new person…a sober one.”
“Yeah, I think my steps make more sense,” I say.
“When did you become such a cynic?” he asks.
“It was sometime between when I was nine and the pastor’s son stole my slingshot, and when I saw my first murder victim,” I say. “Or maybe I was just born that way, so you’ll have to take that up with your god.”
“And your ex-girlfriend’s god,” he says. “Have you two patched up your differences yet?”
“No,” I say. “And I think she’s caught the interest of another guy. He seems nice enough. I should just be happy that she’s not wallowing in misery or anything.”
“It still sounds like you’re giving up.”
“We’re two completely different people,” I say. “We didn’t like each other when we first met. The only thing that really brought us together was the stress that the PVP Killer brought us.”
“You know that’s not true. You two stayed in your relationship for months after that,” he says. “I never saw the two of you together except when you were investigating the PVP Killer, but you seemed good together. I don’t know, Tobias. I don’t think you should give up on this, and I don’t think you want to.”
“Of course I don’t want to,” I say. “But I don’t want to cling to somebody who doesn’t want me. She’s my partner at the force, and I don’t want to make it awkward by refusing to let her go while she wants to move on. I should tell her that I support her going out with our boss. It’s against the rules, but if he makes her happy, then I’m happy for her.”
My father shakes his head, a small smirk on his face. “Like you said: the first step is admitting that you have a problem. And your problem is that you aren’t admitting that you wouldn’t be able to work with Lauren if she was with some other guy. You would just turn into some sad son-of-a-bitch who wants somebody else’s girlfriend. She would sense how jealous you are and it would break down your professional relationship with her. Envy is a sin.”
“Yeah. I got that from do not covet,” I say. “I’m learning more about the Bible than I ever wanted to because of this killer, especially now that he went after Hotchens for coveting the job of Captain.”
“And your girlfriend,” my father mutters. “You really think that if he’s willing to break the rules to date Lauren that he would have cared if you were still in the picture? He probably would have just used his position of power to get her to date him.”
I sit up. “He did seem interested in her before he even knew if she was single or not. In fact, a lot of people at work probably think we’re still together. We haven’t really talked about it to anyone else…or, at least, I assume Lauren hasn’t. I don’t think it’s something she would tell others.”
“Well, it’s not illegal for him to pursue her,” he says.
“But it is a sin,” I say. “Lauren actually didn’t think the killer chose Hotchens because of his job; she thought it had to be something else. Maybe this is it.”
“That would have to mean someone close to you attacked him.”
“Right, because not that many people know,” I say. “The only people I told are Romano, Lauren’s grandmother, and her half-brother. Romano is too injured to attack anybody, Lauren’s grandmother is in her seventies, and her half-brother is blind. I don’t see how any of them could do it.”
“They all knew that Hotchens was interested in Lauren?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No, none of them knew…well, I mentioned it to Lauren’ half-brother, but…the guy’s blind. He couldn’t have done any of this.”
“You know, back in the old days, I had this partner who was obsessed with Sherlock Holmes. He read all of the books, watched any movie. Sherlock Holmes was the reason he became a policeman. And he would always quote this one thing Holmes apparently said: Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth. He was annoying and I wanted to punch him in the face every time he said that, but it’s good advice for when you’re stuck. Eliminate the impossible and then test the improbable.”
“You want me to test if a blind man could be a serial murderer?” I ask.
He smiles. “No, I think you should test if this blind man could be a serial murderer.”
He picks up one of my blue puzzle pieces and confidently places it next to another piece. It fits perfectly.
* * *
I sit in the library an hour later, staring at my laptop. Peter doesn't have a record, and he doesn't have a license or any ID with the DMV. He has a birth certificate and a social security number, which tells me nothing new about him.
I can’t let Lauren know I suspect her half-brother. I don’t even know how that conversation would begin. Maybe something like, “Oh, you think I hate Christians and children? Well, I think your half-brother is torturing and murdering people. Should we go arrest him and ensure he gets life in prison? Maybe afterward we can discuss everything else that went wrong with our relationship.”
No, that isn’t going to work. I’d need more evidence than the fact that I mentioned to him that our Captain is interested in her.
I called Peter, but he didn’t pick up.
This is insane. There’s no way that a blind man could have done all of this.
“Tobias,” Lauren says, walking toward me.
I snap my laptop shut. “What’s going on?”
"Did forensics ever catch the doves?"
I shrug. "They found a couple of them. It was blood on their wings."
"I was thinking maybe the birds ate something that could lead us to where the killer crucifies people," she says. "I was going to see if someone could get the birds to regurgitate their food."
“Hey, before you do that,” I say, standing up. “Your half-brother was here earlier. He heard about the Captain being attacked and he came to check if you were okay. Have you talked to him?”
She shakes her head. “No. That’s really sweet of him to care though.”
“Right. Sweet,” I say. “But…he didn’t call you or anything? You didn’t have any missed calls on your cell phone from him?”
She shakes her head again, her nose scrunching up. “No, why? Are you two becoming friends?”
“No, not exactly,” I say. “He’s just…an interesting guy. I’ve never met a blind guy who could carve wood without cutting off a hand.”
“Tobias, have you ever met a blind man?”
“I haven’t. I’m just curious…but how religious is he? He seems more religious than you, but I can’t quite figure out how devoted he is—”
“Tobias,” she interrupts. “Don’t bother him about this religiou
s stuff. He cares a lot about God. I think with his blindness, it makes him more devoted. It’s really important to him.”
“Right, blind faith,” I say. “And I wasn’t going to make fun of his beliefs. I was just curious. I’m also curious about how well he can function without sight. Do you think he would be able to, I don’t know, fight someone?”
She stares at me. “Are you high?”
I really wish I was right now.
“No, I just wanted to…buy him a gift,” I say. “He’s been really helpful, giving me advice about things, so I wanted to buy him something, and I was thinking about a religious gift or maybe…a new cane. I don’t know. Maybe I’ve just had too much coffee.”
“What does a religious gift have to do with fighting someone?” she asks.
“I don’t know, mobility?” I suggest. “If his current cane works well enough that he could fight someone, then he wouldn’t need a new one.”
“I’ll be sure to tell him how much you appreciate him,” she says. “I think he would really like a religious gift.” “Good to know,” I say, standing up. “There are some things I need to check out, so I’m going to go check them out.”
“What do you need to check out?”
“I’m going to visit Romano; I heard he left the hospital today, so I’ll swing by his house. And I thought…well, I thought I’d go talk to Mary. I have some theories and I want to see her reaction to them.”
“Shouldn’t I come with you?”
“Uh, no,” I say. She frowns. “It’s nothing against you. I just think maybe she’ll respond better if it’s just me.”
“I think she would respond better to a Christian,” she says.
“Yeah, but you also nailed her foot and hand to the floor,” I say. “So, I’m just going to do this alone.”
“Could we maybe talk later, then?” she asks. “I know I’ve been cold lately, but I think we should talk.”
“Absolutely,” I say, grabbing my coat. “I would love to talk later. I’ll be back here after I’m done with my errands, unless it runs late, then I’ll call you and we can meet up somewhere. Is that good?”
She nods. “Thank you, Tobias.”
I lean in, ready to kiss her cheek, until I realize this is the wrong thing to do. I flush, pulling back. Her cheeks are turning pink too.
“I’ll see you later,” I mutter. I half-run out the door.
Chapter Twenty
Lauren
Sean Hotchens’s parents live in Texas, so I couldn’t just tell them that they had to come down to the station because something had happened to their son. It isn’t easy to explain what happened when even the watered down version includes phrases like “crucifixion,” “serial murder we’ve been unable to apprehend,” “excessive blood loss,” “coma,” and “the doctors are unsure when or if he’ll wake-up.” By the time I had finished, I could only lie down in my bed and cry.
But now, I’m sitting beside Sean again, wanting someone to be with him until his parents arrive. It will take them at least a day, but at least for his visiting hours, he won’t be alone.
“Your parents asked who I was,” I say aloud. My voice sounds too loud while talking to an unconscious person, but I’m clinging to this hope that he can hear me. “When I repeated my name, they said you had mentioned me…that you had said I was a great detective. But I can’t be that great if I can’t find this killer. I didn’t even discover the PVP Killer through detective work. I was just bait. Tobias and I discovered Christopher Lush too late and Mary Fitzgerald…all we did was save a guy guilty of murder and she had fooled us for quite awhile. I don’t know why you would think I’m a great detective, because I’m not.”
I chew on my lip. His hands are patched up again. I wonder what it’s like to know that feeling pain is a blessing because it means that you’ve entered back into conscious life. It means that you’re aware of everything going on around you.
“I also know you’re interested in me, but…I have this…I’m in love with somebody else,” I tell him. “You’re attractive, you’re funny, and I think we’d be more compatible, but I could never have a relationship with someone else without comparing them to him. I don’t even know what it is about him. He’s very protective and he’s a realist, which is nice. He loves me. I know that. I can’t really put it into words. It’s just that every time I think of him, I feel like he’s the only person I could have a future with. He’s my refuge, but he’s also the one who makes me feel alive. He knows my past sins and he doesn’t care. He’s never used them against me and he never uses it to excuse my behavior. He knows it’s part of me, but it doesn’t define me. I’ve never had someone like that in my life. Even my own grandmother judges me for what I’ve done and all we have is each other. Well, she has Peter, but, I think that’s mostly a relationship out of guilt. She doesn’t agree with my mother giving him up.”
I stare at his face, waiting for his eyes to snap open like they do in the movies. But he’s completely still. Another casualty in my failure to catch a serial killer.
How have I failed this long?
I look away from Sean, unable to watch him any longer without this heavy pressure on my heart. I notice a small sheet of card stock with an angel painted on it alongside a long paragraph. I pick it up.
Prayer to Saint Michael
Saint Michael the Archangel,
defend us in the hour of hellish battle;
be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil.
May God rebuke him, we humbly pray;
and do thou, O Prince of the heavenly host,
by the power of God, thrust, down to hell, Satan,
and with him the other wicked spirits
who prowl through the world for the ruin of souls.
Amen.
It’s a prayer said after Low Mass. It’s been used for over a hundred years. Michael is the archangel that led God’s armies in the war in Heaven and defeated Satan. Satan was cast down to earth, where he decided to wage war against all Christians. If I’ve learned one thing while investigating murders, it’s that the devil lives inside people. If he has declared war against humanity, he’s done it by inserting himself into people’s minds and leading them to believe that the immoral choice is the better choice. He has made them believe that violence is an imperative and hatred is justified.
I lean back in my chair and close my eyes. I could pray for so many things: to save Hotchens, to find the Commandment Killer, to keep everyone else safe from him…but if God wanted any of those things to happen, He would have made them happen. In this aspect, I could understand Tobias’s lack of faith, but I have to believe there’s a bigger picture here that I can’t see. When my knowledge is so limited and God’s knowledge is limitless, there’s no point in demanding answers.
But sometimes, I wish I had just a small piece of God’s insight. Still, I’ll have to settle for contentment. I’ll have to realize from this moment that it is better to feel pain than to be so disconnected from life that you can only lie in a hospital bed while people pray that God will change His plan.
Chapter Twenty-One
Tobias
“Your black eye cleared up,” I say to Mary Fitzgerald. “Did you stop condemning every single person you saw?”
She looks better than when I saw her a few weeks ago. Her blond hair is still thinner and duller than it used to be—more like straw than gold now—but her left eye isn’t clouded by blood anymore. She sits in the Wilson County Jail conference room like she’s sitting on a throne, which I’m sure is exactly what she thinks.
“Funny,” she says. “I heard Christopher Lush was killed. Didn’t you kill the PVP Killer, too? For someone who judges others who commit murder, you’re certainly quick to pull the trigger.”
“I wasn’t the one who killed the PVP Killer,” I say. “But even if I was, he died because he was putting innocent people at risk. It was killed or be killed. But I’m glad you heard about Mr. Lush. Your team isn’t as
infallible as you thought.”
“Man was never meant to be infallible,” she says. “And Christopher, he was always the weakest one. I thought his heart was in the right place, but over time, I realized I may have been wrong. The devil may have swayed us in the wrong direction.”
“I could say that about your whole damn plan,” I say. “Because something definitely made all three of you lose your minds.”
“Maybe we did lose our minds, but not our souls,” she says. “The only reason you would be visiting me now is because you’ve been unable to find the Son, but The Son has always been the hardest to find. He’s always standing right in front of you, but you always step around him to fulfill your temporary desires.”
“You’re wrong,” I say. “That’s not the only reason I could be visiting you.”
“Oh?” she asks. “So, what is it then? Did you break-up with your bitch of a partner and fall in love with the femme fatale? Because I don’t date pagans.”
“It’s in your best interest to not call Lauren names,” I say. “Your court date is approaching fast and my testimony could determine whether or not the jury is sympathetic enough to send you to a mental health facility instead of a maximum security prison.”
“Oh, please,” she smirks. “We both know you wouldn’t change your testimony. You’ve made up your own morals, which you obey to the letter. You want me in a maximum security prison, so I’m certainly going there. But I don’t mind. I can still pray. I can still listen to God. I can read the Bible. There’s nothing else I need. And you can’t truly believe I want to listen to some therapist spouting their psychobabble. I’d rather be alone with God.”
“You keep saying that you want to be alone, but you talk to me every time I’m here,” I say.
“Do I have a choice? You’re a policeman.”
“I’m a detective,” I say. “And you could always come here and say nothing. I can’t force you to talk.”
Vengeance of the Son (A Trinity of Death Romantic Suspense Series Book 3) Page 10
