Killer Romances
Page 125
“Let’s go,” Michael said, and moved to leave.
Rusty laughed. “You two aren’t going anywhere. Boy Toy, put the gun on the floor and kick it to me,” he said to Hudson, then nodded to Michael. “You, get inside or I slit her throat.”
Sirens sounded in the distance. Mama yelled from the other room.
“Sounds like you have a full house. Sorry I can’t stay and enjoy the party,” Michael said. “I have someplace else to be.”
“Don’t you move,” Rusty ordered. “Don’t you dare take a step. And you, Boy Toy, I told you to drop your gun and kick it to me.”
“Pudge,” Mama screamed. “Hurry, hurry, the police. I see them on the street.”
“Shut up,” Rusty shouted, then pressed the scalpel harder against her throat. “I’m handling the situation just fine without—”
Eden leaned into Rusty and turned the doorknob with her cuffed hand. Rusty stumbled back, the scalpel nicking her throat. As his rear hit the floor, she landed in his lap.
Mama wailed and cried.
The sirens grew louder.
Arm dangling from the doorknob, and still holding the plate in her other hand, Eden pressed her head back and bowed her body forward. She jammed the point of the broken plate beneath her.
Rusty grunted. The scalpel grazed her throat as he jerked his body and loosened his grip around her waist.
She released the plate, grabbed his wrist and bit.
“Bitch,” Rusty snarled, and dropped the scalpel into this other hand.
“Eden, move!” Hudson shouted.
“Kill her, kill her. They’re coming. Hurry,” Mama cried.
Before Rusty gained hold of the blade, and hoping to hit his plate and gunshot wound, she elbowed him in the gut.
“Now!” Hudson demanded.
Holding the doorknob, she swung her body. Hudson fired. Once. Twice.
“No, no, no,” Mama howled and sobbed.
Clinging to the door, Eden drew in deep breaths and looked over her shoulder. Hudson kept the gun trained on Rusty as he moved toward them.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, and checked Rusty’s pulse.
She shook her head. “But you are. How bad did he cut you?”
He knelt in front of her, and touched her chin. His eyes darkened as he looked at the nicks and scrapes on her neck, then he narrowed them and glared at Rusty. “I want to kill him all over again,” he said, his voice filled with hate. “If it hadn’t been for Morrison—”
The Chicago police burst into the house through both the front and back doors. Hudson immediately dropped his weapon, raised his hands and identified himself. Mama continued to sob and babble. During the chaos that followed, the police and detectives’ questionings, the arrival of the coroner and EMTs, Eden kept her focus on Hudson. Whatever had happened to lead him to Rusty’s house didn’t matter. What mattered was that they had a chance. How they’d make things between them work, she still didn’t know.
At least they were both alive and able to give it a try. For now, that’s all that mattered.
*
The next morning, Eden held Hudson’s hand as they sat in COREs evidence and evaluation room. Rachel had every TV screen on, each filled with information on both Michael Morrison and Chris Long, the man she’d known as Rusty Jones.
Owen Malcolm and Ian Scott filtered into the room. Owen had just flown in from Las Vegas after finishing an assignment. Since he’d watched one of the DVDs, he voiced an interest in the results.
After each man took a seat, Rachel said, “The Chicago PD asked us for a little favor. They’re hoping we might be able to track down Michael Morrison. I’ve pulled up everything I could find on the man, and have that info on these screens.” She pointed to four of the six TVs. “These two screens contain the particulars on Chris Long, the man who kidnapped Eden.”
“Can we start with Long?” Eden asked. At this point, she didn’t want to discuss Michael’s whereabouts. She didn’t care. Yesterday, after the police had arrived, she and Hudson had spent the day, and most of the evening, either at the police station or the hospital, where Hudson had received stitches. Afterwards, they’d gone to CORE to make copies and view the two DVDs Michael had left for her. One had been the surgery he’d performed on Roth. The other DVD had been…heartbreaking. After she’d watched the home movies Michael had created of his daughter, she’d understood the full scope of the man’s pain, grief and need for vengeance. Coupled with the fact that he’d risked his freedom to help Hudson rescue her, she realized, despite the severity of his crimes against the doctors, Michael wasn’t a bad man. He was a distraught father who had made extremely poor choices.
Rachel nodded, and pointed to the screen with Long’s information. “Okay, meet Chris Long, aka, Rusty Jones, Murugan Punjab, Nancy Flannery, and Dr. Dread. Police found fake IDs and disguises in Long’s bedroom that linked him to all of these identities and the Dread murders. In total, they suspect Long is responsible for six murders, the three nurses from the Dread cases, and the three men from WBDJ.”
Eden looked away, and fought back the tears. She hadn’t known Ryan Anders or the intern, Steven Cline, well. But David had been her friend, a kind, funny, talented, unique person. She’d miss having him in her life.
“Do we know if Long had any metal health issues?” Ian asked.
“There’s no record,” Rachel responded. “But based on what Eden witnessed, and the mother’s statement, it appears Long experienced auditory hallucinations and bizarre delusions.” She shrugged. “We’ll never know for sure, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Long’s psychosis was triggered by what the mother did to the father.”
“And that was…?” Owen asked.
“The father, Richard Long, physically and sexually abused both mother and son. One night, Mama had enough and killed him.”
“With a hatchet,” Eden added, remembering the argument between “Pudge” and Mama. “Then she made her son help her cut up the father and bury pieces of his body all over the state of Illinois.”
“That’ll definitely trigger something,” Owen said.
Ian nodded, then looked to Eden. “I wonder what caused Long to go after you?”
Eden shook her head. “I have no idea. I worked with Rusty, I mean, Long, for several years. Never once did he show any sign of aggression or malice toward me.”
“I met him,” Hudson said. “Seemed like a regular guy.”
“That’s what Morrison’s coworkers and neighbors are saying about him, too,” Rachel added.
“Before we get to Morrison, what’s going to happen to Long’s mother?” Ian asked.
“She’s made her confession and has already accepted the State’s Attorney’s plea bargain. Dorothy Long will spend the next ten years in prison. Based on her health, I doubt she’ll ever leave.” Rachel turned off the screens containing Chris Long’s information. “Now on to Morrison. Eden, Hudson and I watched his last two DVDs yesterday. I’ve turned over everything, except our copies, to the police. According to Ogle County Sheriff, Jim Wilson, and the State Police crime scene investigators, the partial remains of four bodies have been found on Morrison’s property. It’ll take a while for DNA results, but based on the DVDs he’d sent Eden, and the fact that all four doctors associated with Cosmetic Solutions and Med Spa are still missing, every law enforcement agency involved in the Morrison case thinks the victims are Thomas Elliot, Brian Westly, Leonard Tully, and Victor Roth.”
“Between Long and Morrison, that’s a lot of dead bodies in one week,” Owen said.
“Brilliant observation.” Rachel rolled her eyes. “Anyway, one of the last DVDs Morrison had given Eden was Roth’s torture and…confession.”
“Confession?” Ian echoed.
“Yes,” Eden said. “It turns out Victor Roth knowingly gave Eliza Morrison, Michael’s daughter, unnecessary procedures.”
“Wasn’t she over eighteen when she opted for the procedures?” Ian asked. “Legally, she—”
“
No one is questioning the legality of what the doctors at Med Spa did to Eliza,” Eden began. “You’re right she was eighteen, and her mother was present when she signed any contracts with Med Spa. The morality of what these men did to her is where Roth’s confession comes into play.”
“What do you mean?” Owen asked as he stood and moved toward the TV screens.
Physically and emotionally exhausted, Eden squeezed Hudson’s hand, and looked away to hide the tears. Every time she thought about Eliza Morrison, her pretty before and horrifying after photos, and her intellectual challenges, Eden mourned for the young girl and her father. While she still didn’t agree with how Michael had handled his retaliation against the surgeons, she understood how, in his grief, he could have rationalized his brand of justice.
“Eliza’s IQ was eighty,” Hudson answered for her. “And she was considered borderline intellectually functioning.”
Owen ran a hand through his hair as he stared at the TV screen showing Eliza’s before and after picture. “Poor kid had no idea what she was getting herself into.”
“No,” Rachel said, and wiped a finger under her eye. “But her mother did.”
“The mother’s dead?” Ian asked.
Hudson nodded. “During Eliza’s funeral, Sarah Morrison stood in front of her daughter’s casket, then put a bullet in her head.”
“In front of over a hundred people,” Rachel added.
Ian’s cell phone rang. “I’ve got to take this. Hudson, Rachel, send me the full report once you’ve closed this investigation.”
After Ian left the room, Rachel said, “As far as I’m concerned, this investigation is closed.”
“I agree,” Hudson said. “But we still need to confirm the IDs of Morrison’s victims.”
“And the Ogle County animal warden needs to hunt down the coyotes Morrison used to finish off his victims,” Rachel added.
“Um, hello?” Owen rapped a knuckle on the table. “What happened to the investigation isn’t closed until the killer has been apprehended?”
When no one answered, Owen said, “Michael Morrison tortured and killed four men. I had the unpleasant experience of watching one of his DVDs. I get that you three might feel sorry for the guy and his daughter, but he’s still a murderer.” He pointed to the TV screen containing Eliza’s information. “And I think I have an idea where you’ll find him.”
“What?” Eden stood and moved toward the screen. When she looked to where Owen pointed, she shook her head. “With everything that happened, I didn’t even think about…”
Hudson and Rachel crowded around the TV, too.
“I’ve got to go,” Hudson said, and grabbed his jacket.
Owen headed for the door. “I’ll come with you.”
“Wait,” Eden called, and shrugged into her coat. “I’m going, too.”
Hudson rested his hands on her shoulders. “I’d rather you stay and—”
She brushed past him. “I’m going.”
Thirty minutes later, Hudson pulled the Trans Am into Holy Cross Cemetery. Rachel had already texted Hudson the location of Eliza Morrison’s headstone. After stopping at the cemetery office for a map, Hudson weaved the car through the cemetery’s small lanes.
“Stop,” Eden said, and grabbed Hudson’s arm. “Look, there’s a white minivan.” She looked at the map. “And this is the area where Eliza was buried.”
As soon as Hudson parked the Trans Am behind the van, Eden opened the car door.
“Wait.” Hudson snagged her hand. “Let me and Owen check things out first.”
She touched his beard stubbled jaw. “I need to go. I need to talk to Michael. If it wasn’t for him…I might not be here right now.”
Owen leaned forward. “What are you talking about?”
Even when the police had questioned her and Hudson yesterday, neither of them had mentioned that Michael had helped locate and rescue her. Or that Hudson could have actually cuffed Michael and handed him over to the police. Considering he was known to go to any length to apprehend a criminal, the decision to let Michael go hadn’t been too difficult for Hudson. Last night, as they lay in bed holding each other, he’d told her that he owed Michael. That he’d rather watch a murderer go free than live without her in his life.
Thinking about that moment brought tears to her eyes. She couldn’t imagine not having Hudson in her life, either. While she still wasn’t sure how they’d make their relationship work, they were both committed to trying.
“Nothing,” Hudson finally said. “Let’s go.”
The frigid, late November wind howled through the headstones and monuments as they walked up the small hill leading to Eliza’s grave. Standing at the top of the hill was a small, family mausoleum. As they passed the corner of the mausoleum, Eden gripped Hudson’s hand and ran.
“No,” she cried as she slowed. Letting go of Hudson, she dropped to her knees. Tears blurred her vision as she touched Eliza’s headstone, then the pretty life-like doll resting against the cool marble.
Hudson crouched next to Michael Morrison’s dead body. “There was no other way for him.”
She glanced to the gun Michael had used to take his life, then back to the headstone.
“Happy Birthday, Eliza,” she said, then fell into Hudson’s arms, and wept.
Epilogue
Christmas Eve
GIDDY WITH EXCITEMENT, Eden hung up the phone, then checked the turkey roasting in the oven. The twenty-five pound bird still had a couple of hours to go, and their guests wouldn’t arrive for another hour.
Plenty of time for Hudson’s surprise.
She dropped the potholders on the counter, removed her apron, then hurried into the guest bedroom. After retrieving one of Hudson’s Christmas presents she’d hidden in the closet, she headed into the living room. “Busy?” she asked.
Sitting on the couch, with both Fabio and Brutal draped over him, he looked away from the TV and grinned. “Very, can’t you tell?”
“Then I guess you don’t have time to open up one of your Christmas presents.”
Using the remote, he turned off the TV, then gently nudged the animals from his lap. “I thought we weren’t exchanging until tomorrow morning.”
“Well, something came up today, and it kind of goes along with one of your gifts. This one in particular,” she said, and set the beautifully wrapped, tall, rectangular box in front of him.
Eyes bright, his smile grew. He stood, then pulled her into his arms. “Can I give you one of my presents, too?”
She slipped her hand between their bodies, then slid her palm over his zipper. “This is the only package I’m interested in…of course, after our guests leave,” she murmured, and kissed his freshly shaven jaw.
Chuckling, he caressed her rear. “I could make fun of you for your cheesy line, but it’s kind of hard when all I want to do is take you into the bedroom, lay you on the bed, push this tight little skirt up and—”
“Stop,” she groaned, then moved away before he completely sidetracked her with hot monkey sex. “Hurry up and open your present.”
His eyes darkened as he stared at her cleavage. “I’d rather open—”
“Seriously,” she laughed, and shoved the box between them.
“Okay,” he said as he began unwrapping the present. “But you better believe I plan on coming back to this conversation…” He glanced from the box to her. “You bought me a weed whacker?”
She grinned.
Smiling, he asked, “So I can weed whack the dead plants in my apartment?”
“Not exactly. I was thinking about that yard in the Burbs.”
He grew serious, and stared at her. “I go where you go. And I know the suburbs aren’t one of those places on your list.”
Her heart rate skyrocketed with hope and anticipation. Since the night she’d been kidnapped, they had both made an effort not to hide their emotions from each other. One thing she had kept hidden, though, was her new possible career path. Uncertain as to how things
would play out, she’d decided not to tell Hudson. She didn’t want to dash either of their hopes with bad news.
“They could be,” she began, and smoothed the front of his pressed, button down shirt. “You know how after the kidnapping Network decided to give me until after the first of the year before they’d need me to begin working on the show?”
He nodded.
“What I didn’t tell you is that I came up with a way I can still do the job I love without moving to New York. Actually, I can do this job anywhere I want. Chicago, the suburbs, Palm Springs, Tahiti…”
“Maybe I’m a little slow…do you mind explaining what new job?”
She laid her hands on chest. “After Michael died, I kept reading through that last letter he’d left for me, and thinking about Eliza and what had driven him to do something that was the polar opposite of the man everyone claimed to know.”
That letter had been almost as heartbreaking as the DVD containing the old home movies of Eliza. Michael’s words had been compelling and sincere. He’d apologized for involving her in his pursuit to right the wrong committed against his daughter, and had gone into great detail as to how he’d brought his plans of vengeance to fruition. Later, he’d written about Eliza. Not her tragic end, but about the funny, adorable child and sweet, sensitive young woman she had once been.
Hudson kissed her forehead. “This case hit you hard.”
“It did. I shouldn’t sympathize with a murderer, and I don’t, but I do sympathize with a grieving father. So, I decided Michael was right. This was the story of my career. But rather than exploit the victims, and tarnish Eliza’s memory by showing clips of the DVDs on the show Network wants me to do, I decided to write about it.”
“I’m starting to feel stupid. What are you writing?”
Smiling, she said, “My first true crime novel. I sent my agent a proposal for Michael and Eliza’s story. She shopped it to several publishers and I just heard back from her. I have a contract, an excellent advance, and…” She toyed with the collar of his shirt. “I was thinking that with all the cases you guys have at CORE, I’ll have plenty of stories I can write about in the future.”