Daddy's Home

by A. K. Alexander

  She glanced down at Sara. “What can you tell us?”

  Dr. Lareby looked up through his protective eye shields at the two detectives, holding a small saw instrument in his hand. He had kind, warm gray eyes. No one would have thought eyes like that would see what they did daily. Or maybe everything that he saw was what gave him the aura of sympathy he wore so well. “I can tell you that she was not raped or sexually molested in any way.”

  “Thank God,” Holly said, a sigh escaping her lips.

  Chad looked at her with a warning that said, “Don’t get too involved here.”

  “There are no marks on her, no bruises. There are a few scratches on her face that are post mortem. My assumption is that they are from an animal, in that she was exposed to the elements for almost forty-eight hours. The murderer shot her point blank with a revolver and a silencer. I honestly don’t think that she felt anything. He even closed her eyes afterward. Possibly he told her to before he did it.”

  “What about asthma? We found prescriptions for Albuterol solution for a nebulizer and some Prednisone tabs in Sara’s name,” Holly said.

  “I did find both drugs in her system. I can’t say exactly when she took either of them, but I’m fairly certain that they were administered shortly before her death. See here . . .” He pointed into the lung cavity. “Most of the capillaries are open, but not all of them. Both drugs are fast acting. The Albuterol acts faster than the Prednisone, because the Albuterol through the nebulizer releases directly into the system. Prednisone takes six to eight hours to really kick in, but the effects are longer lasting. Both drugs were in her system, as I said, but the Prednisone didn’t have time to kick in.”

  “Which means he either didn’t have them for long, and Mom gave her the meds before he came along, or he took another script she had in the house, and she had an attack while he had them,” Holly said crossing her arms in front of her.

  “There’s another possibility,” Chad said. “He could be an asthmatic himself, and if she had an attack while he was with her, he could’ve administered his own drugs to her.”

  “You make a good point. But an asthma attack wasn’t the cause of death? You know that for sure?” Holly asked.

  Dr. Lareby nodded. “As I said, it was the gunshot wound.”

  “Do you think he’s a gun expert?”

  “I don’t know about ‘expert.’ It doesn’t take a pro to shoot an unwitting child in the head and kill her. But he might be. More than likely, he does know how to use a gun. Your job is to find out how much he knows.” The doc raised his bushy eyebrows in a challenging manner. They were the only hair on his face or head. Holly had watched as the doc had gone from a nearly full head of hair only a few years ago to nil. Had to be the job to do that to a man in such a short period of time. “He also fed her a treat as you suggested. Looks like chocolate cake or brownie. And guess what? I found traces of another drug. Flexeril.”

  “A muscle relaxer?” Chad asked.

  Dr. Lareby nodded. “Yeah, and a pretty potent one. I didn’t find enough in her system to even come close to killing her, but my guess is that she was asleep a good part of the time while he tortured her mother. He roughed her up quite a bit.” The doctor covered Sara with a white sheet and walked over to a gurney parallel to the child’s. He ripped back the sheet and exposed a much more gruesome sight.

  Shannon McKay barely resembled a human being. Her face was covered in bruises, and once again the shock of seeing her missing breasts made Holly take a step back.

  “He definitely raped her. I was able to get a sample, and I’ve already sent it to the DNA lab. If he has any priors, things will brighten up for you guys.”

  “If . . .” Holly replied. She doubted this killer was foolhardy enough to have a prior conviction and then leave a semen deposit. No, she didn’t think he had spent any time in jail. But he would. He most certainly would, and when he did, it was going to be on death row.

  “Another thing I found curious.” The doc rolled the corpse on its side. “They’ve faded quite a bit, but she has what looks to be some kind of whip marks.”

  Chad and Holly took a step closer and peered down at the marks Dr. Lareby was pointing to. Holly looked at Chad. “From her escapades?”

  Chad nodded, a grim look crossing his handsome features.

  “Escapades?” the doctor asked.

  “Yeah, we found some sex toys in her house, and not of the typical fun-once-in-awhile kind of toys, if you catch my drift,” Chad replied.

  “More than a vibrator, huh? Doesn’t surprise me, because these marks were made by some type of whip, and if you look closely, you can even see a mark that may have been caused by some sort of metal stud.”

  Holly looked down at the ground. It was hard to believe that Betty Crocker/Martha Stewart on the outside was Donna the Dominatrix or Vicki the Victim in the bedroom.

  “These marks aren’t recent, though. I’d say they’re a couple of months old,” Dr. Lareby said.

  Holly looked at Chad. “Maybe she did meet him through the dating service.”

  “You didn’t find anything like that on our last mother, did you?” Chad asked.

  “No. This one fought him off. And either he cleaned up his last set of victims so well because he got scared, or he ran out of time with these two and he wasn’t as cautious,” the doctor replied.

  “Which means he could be getting reckless, and if so, eventually he’ll really screw up,” Holly said.

  “Let’s hope we can catch him before he has a chance to get reckless.”

  “This is all stuff we need to take up to Dr. Madison,” Holly said. Holly could make educated guesses about the killer’s background, motives, and where he was headed due to her background as a nurse at the prison, as well as what she’d learned being a cop, but the real expert was Brooke.

  “Good idea. Listen, I can’t tell you much more other than that the mother died from strangulation. I’d say your killer is extremely strong.”

  “Once again, the idea of checking out the gyms is a worthy one,” Chad said. “Both women belonged to the same gym. Maybe they put the kids in a day care there.”

  “I’m not completely finished with the autopsies, but if I find anything new, of course I’ll call you both. Like I said, I’ve got samples of all sorts of fibers and the semen on their way to the lab. We should know soon, hopefully on the Friday after Thanksgiving, but I’ll be out of town, so you’ll have to give the lab a call. Someone should be in.”

  “Thanks Doc,” Holly said.

  “Yep.”

  Chad and Holly headed out and went up the elevator. “Guess we should go see Dr. Madison some time today, but first I want to go back to the McKay house. Something is nagging me, like I missed something I shouldn’t have.”

  “You’re the boss. Besides, when it comes time to talk to Brooke, why don’t you do it? I just, uh . . .”

  “Hard to maintain an office affair, isn’t it?” Holly said.

  “It’s more than that, and I think you know it,” he replied.

  “Don’t get defensive. I know you really like her, and I can respect that, but like I said to you at the bar last night, don’t let it interfere with the job. If this little romance you two have going on doesn’t work out, you will still have to deal with her. Frankly, she’s very good at what she does and so are you, so I’m keeping my fingers crossed that you two can make it. Because if you don’t . . .” She raised her eyebrows and shook her head. “Well, let’s leave it at that, and hope you pay heed.”

  Chad stopped and touched Holly’s shoulder. She faced him, and he placed a hand on each of her arms, looking her square in the eyes. “I promise you, partner, that my relationship with Brooke will not affect my ability to do my job. I also promise that it won’t interfere with our friendship.”

  Holly swallowed the lump in her throat. “I never thought that it would come between our friendship. Why would you even say something like that? It’s not like we’re lovers. You’re en
titled to a personal life with a woman.” What was this all about? Holly didn’t like the sudden sinking feeling in her stomach. Why would he say such a thing?

  “I know. But sometimes I get the sense that I’m the man in your life.”

  Holly laughed, the high pitch sounding foreign to her. “Please, bud, don’t flatter yourself. I love you. I really do. But as far as being the man in my life, afraid not.”

  “No, no. I didn’t mean it like that. But you know how we are together. I know everything about you and vice versa. I felt responsible for you when Jack died. I guess I still do. I’ve got a guilty conscience. I suppose it comes from having a Jewish mother.”

  Holly removed his hands from her arms, holding them as she said, “Listen, you have no need to feel guilty or responsible for me. Live your life, and I’ll live mine. Of course nothing will interfere with either our friendship or working relationship.”

  They stepped out of the elevator and through the front doors of the Medical Examiner’s offices and headed for the car.

  As they drove down the freeway, drops of rain danced from the darkened sky, slowly at first, then quickly turning into a downpour. Holly flipped the windshield wipers to high. “I only love the rain when I’m sitting at home in front of a fire, drinking a nice merlot, or maybe even a martini.”

  “Ah, so you’re a Sinatra kind of gal,” Chad said.

  The tension between them subsided a bit. “Maybe a little.”

  “How was it last night?”

  “Was what?” Holly played dumb. It didn’t work.

  Chad grinned. “You know. The date?”

  “It was not a date. And it was nice. Fine. We had a good time.” The traffic slowed. “A little rain and people get all freaked out and have to drive like they’re from Mars.”

  “Holly . . .”

  “I’m going to his house for Thanksgiving, okay? There! Yes, I had a good time. I like him, okay? And I’m going to see him again tomorrow, with his family. End of discussion.”

  Chad opened his mouth to say something.

  “Stop. No more.”

  They pulled in front of Shannon McKay’s house.

  “What do you think you missed?” he asked.

  “If I knew that, we wouldn’t be here looking for it, now would we?” Holly pulled on her jacket and slipped the hood over her head and got out of the car. Chad followed suit.

  As they entered the house, they detected a stale odor that hadn’t been there before, and the rain had added a smell of mildew to the already musty air. Mother and child were in fresh graves. An eerie silence echoed in the space that was now void of a child’s laughter, and the drone of raindrops hitting the roof, which had probably seemed so peaceful to Shannon McKay, simply represented a dull sadness now imprinted on this home.

  “I may sound stupid, because I’ve already asked, but can you give me any idea as to what we’re looking for?”

  “We’re looking for anything that might help us dig deeper into that dark side of Shannon.”

  “So, we’re going on a Dungeons and Dragons hunt, triple X-style, huh?”

  “Yep. You check around in the front part of the house. I’m heading back to her room,” Holly said.

  She walked past Sara’s room, hesitated, and then kept going. She really didn’t have an idea about what she was looking for or might find. She rummaged around the dead woman’s desk again. She looked underneath the bed, only to find it as spotless as she’d figured it would be. She searched drawers and found everything neat and orderly. She headed into the closet and flipped through suits, pants, shirts, blouses, some casual things, all of it fairly high-quality stuff. This gal liked to look good.

  She bent down and glanced through the woman’s shoe collection, all pairs neatly in their original boxes. She had quite an extensive collection—Prada, Charles David, Vincent Longo. Where was she getting the cash for the shoporamas to Nordy’s and Saks?

  Holly was on her knees and opening one of the last shoeboxes. To her surprise, she found this box didn’t contain shoes, but rather photos—very explicit photos of Shannon McKay, and other women and men, involved in a variety of sexual positions. She flipped through the first stack, the second, and then came across a whole roll of photos with none other than William James and his receptionist doing very nasty things to Shannon McKay. Some of them involving whips, some showing chains. She bagged the photos and pocketed them. She stood to go show Chad the goods, when she heard an odd noise. It sounded almost like whining. No, a whimper. It was a whimper. It was an animal sound. Holly stopped, listened. The sound was coming from beneath her, but from inside. Shannon and Sara had owned a dog. She opened the French doors off of Shannon’s bedroom and stepped out onto the patio. The rain drowned out the whimper.

  Holly went outside, rain pounding down around her, and got on her hands and knees to peer under the crawl space of the house. She saw two eyes staring back at her. She laid flat on her belly and scooched under the home. “Here, baby. Here, puppy. I won’t hurt you.” She was under the house now. The little dog was still whining and shrinking away from her. He was hurt and frightened. Holly reached out her hand. He snapped at it. Then Holly stretched a little further and grabbed the dog, pulling him out from under the house. She could see the small terrier was caked in dirt and something else. It looked like blood. She tucked him under her jacket, knowing that the dog might contain evidence on him, and headed into the house. “Chad! Chad! We gotta go.”

  “Holly?” he yelled. “What the hell is it? What’s wrong?”

  They met at the car. Their eyes locked across the pouring rain. “You drive.” She pulled the keys from her jacket pocket and tossed them to Chad. He caught them, and they simultaneously opened their doors and slid into the car. She held open her coat jacket for him to see the small Yorkie Terrier. The poor dog was shaking, hurt, and in shock.

  “Oh, shit. The poor guy looks really hurt,” Chad said.

  “Not only that. If I’m right, this isn’t his blood caked on him.”

  “Shannon’s?”

  “Or Sara’s.”

  “Where to?”

  She gave him Brendan’s office address. He put the flashing light on the roof of the car and sped down Washington and onto the Pacific Coast Highway, leading into Point Loma. Five minutes later, the downpour not letting up, they pulled in front of the vet’s office. Holly got out and charged through the door with the pup still under her jacket. There was only one person in the waiting area with a caged cat that was loudly complaining about his visit to the vet’s.

  She felt the dog squirm under her jacket. “Shh, shh, it’s okay.” He obviously wasn’t too pleased about being there either. Funny how dogs and kids had that sixth sense about doctors and vets.

  “Can I help you?” A young, high cheek-boned, blonde-haired woman looked up from behind the front desk. The door closed behind Holly as Chad came in out of the rain.

  “This dog is hurt.”

  “Is he your dog? Do you know how he was hurt?”

  “No, and no. Listen, Dr. O’ Neil is a friend of mine. I’m a police officer, and I think the dog might actually be able to help us in a case, and we need to see the vet immediately.”

  “Oh. You’re Holly,” she said knowingly. What was Brendan saying to people in his office about her, or people in general? Well, it didn’t matter right now. What mattered was the dog. “Come on back with me. I’ll get the doctor.”

  “Thank you.”

  Chad and Holly followed the woman who reminded Holly of an Amazon—tanned, beautiful, and at least six feet tall. She towered over Holly, who on her best day with heels stood 5’6. She realized that she often used her loud mouth to compensate for her size.

  They entered an exam room, and Brendan immediately came through the opposite door. He looked at Holly a bit startled. “What have we got here?”

  Holly set the terrier down on the table.

  “Oh, my. What happened to you, poor boy?” Brendan asked. The dog whimpered as if ans
wering him. “It’s gonna be all right, darling. Let me have a look.”

  “We don’t know what happened to him,” Chad said. “Actually we’re hoping you might be able to tell us.”

  “And you are?” Brendan looked up from his patient and glanced at Chad.

  “I’m sorry,” Holly replied. “This is my partner, Detective Chad Euwing.”

  “Nice to meet you, Detective.” Brendan kept one hand lightly on the dog and reached his arm out to shake hands with Chad. “Okay, the pup is definitely in shock and dehydrated. We need to get him on some IV fluids. My guess is he’s also got himself a broken shoulder and maybe a rib. By the state of dehydration he’s in, I’d say he’s been hurt like this for a couple of days at least.” Brendan reached up to an overhead cabinet and pulled out a syringe and some medication. He loaded the needle and shot it into the dog’s hip. The dog snapped at him. “You are a tough boy, aren’t you? You still got some fight in you, even after what’s been done to you. I’m impressed.”

  “What did you give him?” Chad asked.

  “A little kicker to take the edge off. In about a minute or two he’ll feel like he’s shot back some fine whiskey.” Brendan smiled at them.

  Holly couldn’t help but smile back. Brendan’s expression warmed her all over, and, God, did it feel wonderful, as she was still wet from the rain. Seeing him in his element, she noticed his Irish brogue was a bit stronger than at home. She was very impressed with how gentle he was with the dog, as gentle as he was with his daughters.

  Holly was indeed falling for Dr. Brendan O’Neil.

  “Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do with the chap. He needs some x-rays, but I want to immediately get fluids into him. I’m gonna take him into the surgical area, get the pictures I need, and have my assistant Lucy start his IV. She’ll also get him nice and cleaned up.”