by James Hunt
Nate had gone to great lengths to conceal his true nature. But now that he was exposed, it was about finding him and making sure that he was in cuffs before he snatched another girl off the street.
Susan and Palmer rode together while Winterguard hung back as the detective on the scene. Because the second forensic team was out on another call, and with the primary group working Nate’s main house, they would have to wait for them to do a proper scan, but both Susan and Palmer were eager to figure out what they would find at the second location.
The location was down in Beacon Hill, an area riddled with drugs and crime. The building itself didn’t look like much, but from what Susan could tell, the place used to be some kind of dry cleaning operation. It was small, with a drive-through drop-off lane for people coming to and from work.
Susan suspected that it had been quite the operation a few decades ago, but the neighborhood that it once served had long since disappeared. All that remained were the skeletons of businesses that had long since closed, leaving the surrounding homes without the life-sustaining commerce that they needed to survive. She thought of the old building where the sting had been set up a few days ago and wondered what the deal was with criminals and Laundromats.
Palmer pulled right into the drive-through and parked. “Let’s go see if we can get your suit pressed.”
Susan stepped out, walking to the door with him. “You think we should wait for a warrant?”
“He ran,” Palmer said. “I’d say these are extenuating circumstances.” He tugged at the door and found it locked. “Shit.”
“Let’s check around back,” Susan said.
The pair circled the property, and a couple of dogs barking caught Susan’s attention. They were far off, but their howls made their search of the place more frightening than it needed to be. But she knew that she couldn’t just sit there and do nothing.
When they made it around the back of the building, they saw a second utility door, but it was also locked. However, the back door was far less sturdy than the front side, and Susan knew they’d have a better shot at breaking down the back door.
Susan stepped in front of Palmer and worked the lock pick that she’d brought with her.
“You know you’re not supposed to carry those anymore,” Palmer said, his tone bordering between playful and accusing.
“Yeah, well, it comes in handy when you’re working undercover,” Susan said.
It took a little time to work the lock open, but when she finally managed to get it free, Palmer let out a low whistle.
“I’m impressed,” Palmer said.
“So that’s what finally did it?” Susan pocketed her lock pick tools and then opened the door.
The pair of flashlights cut through the darkness, and the moment Susan stepped inside, she had to bury her nose in the crook of her arm.
“God, you smell that?” Susan asked.
“Chemicals,” Palmer answered, his voice muffled by his own shirt covering his face.
“No,” Susan said, remembering the smell of some of the meth labs that she had entered during her time undercover. “Drugs.”
Susan used the beam of her flashlight to locate the light switch that illuminated the small, cramped space.
Beakers, tubes, and different-colored powders in clear plastic bags lined a small desk shoved up against the west wall. To the right of the desk was a wall with pictures, and that was where Susan gravitated towards.
When she counted the number of pictures that were up there, she nearly dropped the flashlight. She counted sixty. Sixty pictures. She scanned them until she found both Katy Matthews and Ginny Burtz, both of whom had a red X drawn over them.
“Jesus,” Palmer said, tilting his head up to look at all of the faces that would never find their way home again. “He went after all of these women?”
“He wanted to,” Susan answered, but she didn’t see Allie’s picture on the wall, and that only made Susan feel more responsible.
Palmer turned away from the pictures and then walked over to a door that had a window in it. “Susan.” He waved her over and then pointed inside as he opened the door. “It’s viewing glass like we use in the interrogations.”
Even before Susan stepped inside the cage, which was precisely what it was, no matter how the bastard tried to slice it, she had to hold down the hot bile of acid that wanted to crawl up her throat.
The bed was nothing but a mattress, which was dirtied and stained with the sweat and fear of those that came before them. And a stale scent hung in the air. Body odor and something else, something Susan couldn’t quite place.
It was almost like the aurora of those that had died were still here, still trying to cling to life before they faded away into nothing.
Susan noticed that the bed was the only furniture in the room, and then she walked back to the door. She stood there, staring at her own reflection the way that the other girls must have done.
Susan imagined Nate standing on the other side of that door, peering through the one-way glass, staring at the victims the way an exterminator stares at a cockroach, just waiting for his chance to stomp them with his heel. She imagined that he felt powerful staring from that side of the door. She believed that he felt like he was in control. Like he was the puppet master pulling strings.
And the longer that Susan stared at her reflection in the glass, the more she was able to collect all of that fear and that hate and that pain, and she converted it to anger and focus. She had trusted the wrong people, had forgotten that just because someone worked with the badge didn’t mean that they were the badge.
It was Palmer who finally broke the silence. “This is where he must have kept them.” He turned, his shoes scuffing against the concrete floor to accentuate the quiet of this place.
But it wasn’t always quiet here. Susan knew that the girls must have screamed their throat raw. Especially Allie, who didn’t understand why she had been taken, why she had been put here to die.
Susan moved closer to the door and examined the hinges. The bolts that kept the door in place were now slightly askew as if they had been pushed from their original positions. Susan then remembered the trauma and bruises that she saw on Allie’s hand.
Susan followed the crack of the door all the way to the floor and saw a piece of plastic. It was black and only about one-quarter inch long. Susan donned a glove and then picked it up, examining it under the light.
“What’s that?” Palmer asked as she walked over.
Susan had never been a woman who enjoyed getting dolled up the way that some women did, but she knew her shoes. “It’s a piece of a stiletto heel.” She lowered it and then glanced back to the door, pointing at the hinges she found. “Those bruises we saw on Allie’s hands, she was banging on the door. She was trying to hammer the bolts out of the hinges.”
“Smart,” Palmer said. “Too bad he was probably looking through that window when she was doing it. Goddamnit, how did we miss this?” He spun around and walked to the bed.
Susan continued to face the door. “We saw what we wanted to see. It’s why I thought that Foster, Marsh, and Winger were behind all of it. We were all wrong.”
Susan stared down at the broken heel in her hand and then felt her phone buzz. With her free hand, she checked the screen and saw a text message from an unknown number. She frowned, opening the message, dreading who might have sent it.
The text had no words, only a picture that filled her phone’s screen. She dropped the heel and brought both hands to the phone to make sure that it didn’t fall as well. The noise from the heel hitting the concrete prompted Palmer to come and look over her shoulder.
Palmer was asking questions about who that was in the picture, and what was happening, but Susan couldn’t speak, because Nate currently had a needle stuck into Charlie’s neck with this thumb on the syringe.
41
Susan did nothing but stare at the picture while Palmer drove them to Seattle General. She was aware that he wa
s talking to someone and that they were locking down the hospital. But it wasn’t until he mentioned Charlie that Susan started to pay attention.
“Is he alive?” Susan asked.
Palmer nodded. “Nate has a needle in his neck and is threatening to squeeze the syringe. He’s got a gun and nurse in the room as well. SWAT doesn’t have an angle on the window, but they’re taking a look at the hospital’s layout.”
Susan nodded and then returned her attention to the picture. Charlie was still bandaged up, though the swelling in his right eye had gone down. That one dark eye, staring into the camera, looking at Susan because the man who shoved the needle into his neck said so.
It was a tit for tat from a man who had the emotional maturity of a child who never made it past the fourth grade.
Susan knew that once SWAT had a bead on how to get a shot off at Nate’s head that it would be game over for Charlie. And why should they care about him? To the outside world, Charlie was nothing more than a drug dealer who got stomped by his own crew. He wasn’t a life that the authorities would be keen on saving. But that didn’t mean his life was of any less value than the nurse that had a gun pointed at her. And his life wasn’t worth any less than her own.
Susan finally put the phone down, knowing that Nate wasn’t going to contact her again from the hospital. If they wanted to talk, then she’d have to do it in person.
The radio crackled and Susan heard the news that SWAT had just arrived at the hospital and was setting up a communication link.
“They can try and use the phone,” Susan said. “But I don’t think he’s going to answer.”
Palmer glanced over at Susan, zipping through traffic with his hands at two and ten. “They won’t let you go in, Susan. You know that, right?”
Susan did know that. But she wasn’t going to give them a choice. “You let me worry about that.”
Palmer was quiet for a moment and then faced forward again, his eyes on the road, the traffic clearing in front of them from the sirens and the lights.
Even from the highway, Susan could see the gathering cluster of police vehicles. The news was spreading through the wire about what was happening at the hospital. Susan wouldn’t be surprised if she saw the chief make his way down.
That was the kind of figures you garnered after three homicides and an attempt to go for a fourth and fifth, maybe a sixth if he took his own life.
As Palmer pulled into the parking lot, Susan wondered if that was Nate’s endgame. Was he merely trying to push the envelope? Was this his last stand? A way to get back at her by going down in a blaze of glory with a man whom he knew she was involved with? Or did he have a separate play?
Susan didn’t think Nate was smart enough to come up with something that clever so quickly. It was the reason he sent the picture. It was the only thing he could think of to do. And now he was stuck waiting for Susan. Waiting for her to come and watch her lover die.
Palmer flashed his badge to the cop at the checkpoint in the parking lot. The perimeter being set up meant that the hospital was already in lockdown.
“You can put your vehicle by the command unit, Detective.” The officer guarding the post pointed toward the pair of trailers that had been set up to act as the offices for those that were calling the shots. It took a rare breed of criminal to bring out the chief.
Palmer parked and then shut off the engine, the pair lingering inside the car as they watched the chaos engulfing the hospital.
Officers were moving through the parking lot, clearing vehicles and making sure that there wasn’t anyone lingering behind. It was quite the show of force, and Susan knew that things were only going to get worse for Charlie the longer that she remained behind.
“I need you to vouch for me,” Susan said.
Palmer turned to her quickly and sported a scowl. “What are you talking about?”
Susan turned toward him, and then she raised an eyebrow. “You know what I’m talking about.”
Palmer nodded to himself and then stared at his lap while he spoke. “Just because the chief is my uncle doesn’t mean he’s going to listen to me.”
“I just need a chance to explain,” Susan said. “That’s all I’m asking for.”
Palmer remained silent, and when he opened the door and started to get out, he paused, looking back at Susan over his shoulder, and then cleared his throat. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Susan got out and followed Palmer to the command station. Because of his standing within the department, he managed to get inside the command post, but Susan was forced to wait outside.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Palmer said, before leaving her to speak with the chief. “But I can’t promise anything.”
Susan nodded and then glanced to the hospital. She was nervous because the truth of the matter was that she had no idea what she was doing. Whatever plan she hoped to accomplish was about to fly out of the window the moment she walked into that room and saw Charlie with that needle in his neck.
The only thing that she might be able to do was a bargain. One life for another. After all, Susan had always noticed the way that Nate had looked at her when she was at the precinct. And she was around the same age and body type of the girls that he hunted out on the streets. She wasn’t sure if it would work, but she hoped it would.
The longer that Susan waited outside the more worried she became. She didn’t know exactly what was happening on the other side, but she was beginning to think that Palmer wasn’t having any luck. It was a long shot for her to ask, but if this didn’t work, she’d just have to find another way in.
The door to the command post swung open, and Palmer stuck his head out. “You’ve got ninety seconds.” He turned his body longways and provided enough space for Susan to pass through the door and gain entry.
When Susan’s eyes adjusted to the harsh fluorescent lights of the small cube, she was surprised to see just how many people could fit into the tiny little compartment that was the trailer. But what was even more intimidating were the faces staring back at her.
Because it wasn’t just the chief that had entered the room, it was the whole of Seattle’s power elite, including the mayor. And all of them were men.
Having gone through the academy, and just through life in general, Susan had always found herself surrounded by men either by choice or by force. She had thought that she had grown used to that feeling of being left on an island to be stared at like a fish out of water. But this was new territory.
“Detective Palmer says that you have something you’d like to say?” Chief asked, his tone insinuating that he was in a bit of a hurry.
“Yes, sir,” Susan said. “I can help end this, and I can help end it quickly. Without any blowback on anyone in this room.”
Susan knew one of the big problems when dealing with a hostage situation was the fact that a potential shooter could end the lives of the hostages, creating a media firestorm around the department. But Susan had a workaround for that.
“And how would you do that?” Captain Hart asked, his tone impatient. He leaned forward, his knuckles planted firmly against the table where the top brass had met.
“Let me talk to him,” Susan said. “I go in, defuse the situation, and if I can’t, then you send in one of your team members to take us both out. Plain and simple. How does that sound?”
A few chuckles and groans filled the room, but it was only the chief that spoke, and he did so in the matter of a father talking to a daughter.
“It’s a reckless move,” Chief said. “You don’t have the training, and you’re not cleared to handle hostage situations. Let the people who deal with this sort of thing handle it.” He looked past Susan and to the officer watching the door, nodding as a club owner would to the bouncer to remove an unruly patron.
“You need a way out,” Susan said, stepping closer to the table and out of the reach of the cop the chief had summoned. “This guy doesn’t have anything to lose. Why do you think he’s at this
hospital? Why do you think that he’s picked the victim that he has?”
The room buzzed a little bit with murmurs, the captains and council of the mayor’s office looking to one another to see if anyone knew the answer.
“And do you know who this person is, Officer?” The chief stood, stretching out to his full height.
“I’ve been sleeping with Charlie for the past six months,” Susan said. “It’s because of my connection to that man that Nate has taken him hostage and is threatening to kill him. And I’m the only one that can stop him.” She looked at each of the men in the room, knowing that they were all judging her actions, and revealing what she had done with an informant could cost her the badge she coveted so much. But she also had an ace in the hole.
“And you think this makes you more qualified to negotiate with this mad man than the rest of our team? Are you out of your fucking mind?” Captain Hart chortled and then stepped around the table to confront Susan head-on, planting his fists on his hips. “I think I might have your gun and your badge right now!”
“It’s a win-win for the department and anyone involved in the plan,” Susan said. “If it goes well, then you say it was your idea to have one of the lead investigators in the unit go and talk to the person she tracked down. You can tell the press whatever you want. And if it goes sideways, then you divulge the indiscretions of my affair with the informant, and that becomes the story instead of the murders.”
“Except you’ve told us about the affair already.” Chief grimaced, and then glanced around the rest of the room, studying the expression of his peers, noticing that the mayor’s assistants were whispering into his ear.
Susan expected the chief to be angry, disappointed, even agitated about the whole thing. But when he looked at her, and she saw the grief in his eyes, it surprised her.
“I need everyone out of the room,” Chief said.
For a moment, no one moved, but it was Palmer who finally ushered folks out. Everyone but the mayor left, thinking that he was above the orders of the man he appointed. But one look from the chief reminded the mayor of who was in charge when it came to the enforcement of the law in the city.
