White Roses Calling
Copyright © 2014 by Dakota Hudson
Acknowledgments
Dedication
Author's Notes
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Other Quest Books
About the Author
Visit Us On Line
White Roses Calling
by
Dakota Hudson
Quest Books
by Regal Crest
Texas
Copyright © 2014 by Dakota Hudson
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. The characters, incidents and dialogue herein are fictional and any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Print ISBN 978-1-61929-172-0
eBook ISBN 978-1-61929-171-3
First Printing 2014
9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Original cover design by Donna Pawlowski
Final cover design by Acorn Graphics
Published by:
Regal Crest Enterprises, LLC
229 Sheridan Loop
Belton, TX 76513
Find us on the World Wide Web at http://www.regalcrest.biz
Published in the United States of America
Acknowledgments
Many thanks to the ladies at Regal Crest for being willing to take a chance on a novice author. A very special expression of appreciation to Verda, who proved herself to be an editor of unbelievable patience while working with me!
Kudos also to my very first beta readers: Kasie (who was there from the beginning and helped break the ice on the first attempts at the more intimate story moments) and Corina (because having a straight-girl beta reader is just fun and leads to very interesting late night conversations when mixed with adult beverages).
Finally, thanks to all the fine officers who I have had the privilege of working with over my two decades plus of police work. The work we’ve done and the adventures we’ve had together have provided the foundation for this fictional work.
Dedication
This, my very first published work, is dedicated to my wonderful wife—who even after fifteen years still hasn’t quite caught on to the fact that I rule with an iron fist. I have confidence that she’ll accept that fact eventually. Until then I guess I’ll just keep doing what she tells me to do.
Author’s Notes
Obviously, the Los Angeles Police Department is a real agency. I have tried to do justice to my Department and the organizational references, policies, ranks and various commands are accurate. The task force in downtown Los Angeles, to which the fictional Sergeant Alexandria Chambers is assigned, does exist, though it goes by a different name than the one utilized here. Similarly, the Office of the Los Angeles District Attorney exists and, as depicted here, their flagship office is located within the top floors of the Central Courts Building in downtown Los Angeles. I have tried to accurately reflect the rank structure and organization of the District Attorney’s Office, though I have likely erred in some respects. Any such mistakes or inaccuracies are mine alone and no disrespect is intended.
The general geographical references are accurate within the context of the sprawling 465 square miles that make up the City of Los Angeles, especially the descriptions of the downtown region. Runyon Canyon, where Sydney Rutledge’s home is, does exist within the hills above Hollywood, though I have taken some artistic liberties with the actual surrounding geography and environment.
Chapter One
SERGEANT ALEXANDRIA CHAMBERS refused to give up. Both predator and prey dodged pedestrians and cars as she chased the man down the sidewalk, then across the busy street. A large delivery van came to a sudden halt as Alex ran diagonally in front of it. When she crossed into the next lane a small compact car, obviously irritated with the stalled progress, pulled into the center lane to go around the truck. The car accelerated right at her with its horn blaring. With no time to fully dodge the vehicle, she launched herself up and over the corner of the hood, sliding across the smooth metal, somehow keeping her feet below her as she hit the pavement on the other side. She regained her balance and continued running, noticing she had lost ground on her suspect. Her long strides continued to close the distance as she reached for her radio and tried to put out a clear and concise broadcast as the chase continued.
“One-zebra-twenty, foot pursuit of one-eighty-seven suspect, southbound Alameda from Fourth Street. Male white, brown jacket and black pants.” The dispatcher placed the frequency on a standby, leaving it free for her further broadcast. She knew without hearing that every available officer in the immediate vicinity was en route to assist her as she gave chase to an individual she believed to be a vicious serial killer.
They ran down a lengthy block, bordered on each side by warehouses. A black and white police car with overhead lights flashing suddenly turned onto the street a few blocks in front of them. Alex was breathing hard as she closed the distance between them. Sweat slid down her back beneath her bullet proof vest. The suspect also seemed to be tiring. He suddenly changed direction and headed down a narrow alley. Alex followed without hesitation.
She updated her direction of travel over the radio, identifying that she was now westbound in the alleyway. She was only about twenty feet behind him when another black and white crossed the other end of the alley. The suspect stopped when he saw the police car screech to a halt and begin to back up to maneuver into the thin passageway. With his avenue of escape now blocked, he turned back toward Alex. Sweat dripped down his face and his lips curled in a strange snarling smile.
Alex’s senses became hyper-sensitive, preparing for the confrontation she knew was inevitable. Her hand dropped to her holster but the suspect appeared unarmed. He was advancing as if he intended to engage her physically, so she chose to leave her weapon holstered. In the background she heard the police car begin to accelerate toward them, tires squealing. Then, with an almost feral growl, he charged the last ten feet, head and shoulders down in an effort to steamroll past her.
Alex waited until he was mere steps away, then shifted slightly to one side, avoiding his upper body as he barreled partially past her. She reached out and grasped him about the waist, allowing him to move onward as her arms circled his hips then moved down to wrap around his knees. Unable to run further as she tightened her grip, he tripped and fell forward to the ground. Her elbows and forearms scraped painfully across the asphalt, trapped beneath his legs. As they both hit the ground her grip jarred loose and he kicked partially out of her grasp, freeing one leg as he turned onto his back to face her. His knee came into her ribs as she rose to her knees and launched herself at him again, trying to keep him from getting to his feet. She could still hear the police car coming up the alley, but the two seconds that had passed felt like minutes as the struggle continued. She landed on his torso and straddled his waist, grasping the front of his jacket to control his movement. He grabbed her throat and
began to squeeze, but she knocked the hand away then delivered a quick punch to his face. He was stunned briefly by the punch and Alex was able to grab his shoulder and jacket sleeve, forcing him onto his stomach. Two officers bailed from their police car after screeching to a halt nearby. The fight was quickly brought to a halt as the three officers were able to overpower the struggling suspect.
Minutes later, Alex was talking with her fellow task force sergeant, and good friend, Sal Donatelli. The suspect glared at her as the fire department paramedics wiped the blood from his face. Alex smiled as he flinched in pain. The paramedics weren’t being terribly tender in their treatment.
“It’s definitely him,” Sal said. “Drivers license in his pocket reads Matthew Sinclair and matches the wanted bulletins.” Alex simply nodded, as she leaned casually on Sal’s black and white.
“You owe me a cup of coffee, Alex,” Sal said with a shake of his head. “This is another use of force report I’ve gotta write for you.” Alex smiled at Sal then glanced over to where her arrestee was being loaded into the back seat of a police car. “So, his nose is broken and what else?” Sal asked.
“I think some chipped teeth,” Alex replied. “And the medics said he’d probably need some stitches for that cut over his eyebrow.” She bent her elbow to look at her bloodied forearm, now cleaned and wrapped in gauze, compliments of the fire department paramedics who had been called to the scene.
“And you?” Sal asked, looking her up and down. “You okay?”
“I’m good,” she said. “It’s gonna sting a little in the shower, but I’ll survive. I’m more upset about the uniform.” She looked down in disgust at the rip in her pants. She pushed off the car. “Hey, I’ve got a hunch I wanna follow up on. Have you got this, Sal?” She indicated the scene in the alley.
“Uh-huh,” he said. “What do I tell the R.H.D. guys when they get here?” he asked, referring to the Robbery Homicide Division detectives who were en route.
“Just call me when they get here,” Alex said. She turned to make her way back to her own police car, left parked several blocks away. “I’ll be on my cell.”
ALEX PICKED UP her vehicle then drove to the storage unit rental facility just a couple blocks from where she had sighted Sinclair. She parked and made her way into the rental office.
“Hi,” she said to the teenage clerk behind the counter. “I was wondering if you recognize this gentleman?” She placed Sinclair’s photo in front of him. The bulletin had been carefully folded to hide the large title declaring that he was, “Wanted for Murder.”
“Yeah,” the clerk said without hesitation. “He’s got a unit in here. Always walks in through the gate.” He indicated the small pedestrian gate immediately outside the glass windows of the office. “I’ve never seen him drive in. He was just here about an hour ago.”
“I saw your video cameras outside,” Alex said as she folded the bulletin up and put it back in her pocket. “Do they record?”
“Yeah, but I can’t pull the recordings, only my boss can.”
“Okay, you’re going to want to call your boss and tell him it’s a police emergency and we need him to come in and pull some video for us. And we’re going to need him to pull some rental records for us. If he asks, you can tell him we’ll have a search warrant by the time he gets here.” Alex pulled her cell phone out and called Sal as she watched the clerk’s eyes get big. He quickly reached for his own phone and began frantically dialing.
Several hours later, an unmarked Ford Crown Victoria pulled up to the rental facility and made its way down the first aisle to where Alex waited, guarding a padlocked single garage-sized unit. Detective Chuck Severs got out of the car with a grim look of satisfaction on his face. Chuck was a former partner of Alex’s from almost fifteen years prior, when Alex was a rookie officer herself. He was now a seasoned homicide detective assigned to the Robbery Homicide Division, and was one of the primary investigators on the White Rose case.
“Got it?” Alex asked.
“Yep.” Chuck’s partner held up a stack of several papers, indicating the warrant had been approved and they were ready to move forward. Over the last several hours Alex and the detectives had identified the specific unit Sinclair was utilizing and had now obtained the warrant needed to enter the facility. “We’ve also got a set of keys Sinclair had on him when you caught him. One of them looks like it may go to the padlock on the unit door. The brand is the same at least.”
Chuck’s partner, Detective Kim, singled out a key on the ring and slid it easily into the padlock. It turned smoothly and the lock clicked open. Kim slid the door up and open to reveal the contents of the unit. They found the unit empty with the exception of a lone storage trunk sitting in the middle of the floor. They glanced at it, then all three sets of eyes turned to focus on one side of the unit where multiple newspaper articles had been cut out and taped on the wall.
“Ho-ly shit,” Chuck muttered.
After spending several minutes looking over the display of articles, they turned and gathered around the chest. Chuck bent to the padlock.
“Are we good with the search warrant for opening this?” Alex asked.
“Yep. We included all locked articles within the unit,” Chuck said as he tested several keys on the ring. One finally slid in and turned. Chuck removed the padlock and opened the lid of the trunk.
He reached a gloved hand into the trunk, removing a shoe box and opening it. Inside were several pieces of jewelry, including necklaces, earrings and watches. He handed the shoe box to his partner and reached back into the trunk, removing a manila envelope. Chuck opened the envelope and tipped it up, allowing several photographs to slide into his hand. He shuffled through the photographs and Alex recognized several of the White Rose murder victims caught in everyday activities, walking to and from their cars, several in public areas and restaurants, and even a few that appeared to be taken through windows, catching the victim’s inside their own residences.
Alex noticed something in one of the photographs. “Wait. Go back to that one you just passed.” Chuck moved a photo back to the top of the stack. It appeared to be taken with a telephoto lens and showed a young lady sitting in the open patio area of a restaurant. “Look at her bracelet,” she said, pointing to a large bangle style bracelet clearly revealed in the photo. Alex then pointed into the shoe box and Detective Kim removed a similar bracelet.
They went through the photos more slowly, paying closer attention to the items of jewelry shown in the pictures. They quickly identified several more items of jewelry in the box that were shown in the pictures being worn by the victims.
“Well, now we know for sure that he stalked them before he killed them,” Chuck said. “And he kept trophies.”
SIX MONTHS LATER, Alex found herself sitting with the R.H.D. case detectives in a District Attorney’s conference room on the eighteenth floor of the Central Courts Building in downtown Los Angeles. They had all been summoned for a pre-trial conference and were awaiting the arrival of the assigned DAs. As she waited, Alex thought over the crimes ultimately tied to Sinclair.
The White Rose Murders began four years prior. By the time the perpetrator was identified and apprehended, twelve women in and around Los Angeles had been kidnapped, viciously beaten, tortured, raped, and then murdered by strangulation. The bodies were dumped in secluded areas of the city, sometimes a considerable distance from where they were kidnapped. The coroner’s reports indicated the beatings and torture were significant and occurred over several hours. Ligature marks from the murder weapon, believed to be some kind of leather belt, were consistent on the neck of each victim.
The nature of the victims, all attractive and successful professional women, had led to the presumption the suspect moved in the same professional circles. In addition, it was determined that prior to each victim’s disappearance, and ultimate murder, she had been the recipient of a delivery of a dozen white roses. When this fact was revealed in the course of his eventual trial, the pres
s had dubbed him “The White Rose Killer.”
Alex looked up as the conference room door was pushed open. Her interest was piqued by the entrance of a slim and attractive woman carrying a thick case file. Her eyes followed the woman, noting her trim build and shoulder length wavy brown hair with natural auburn highlights. Her chestnut eyes met Alex’s momentarily and they exchanged a brief smile.
“Good morning everyone,” the Assistant District Attorney said. “I’m Sydney Rutledge and I’ll be handling the Sinclair prosecution. I recognize a few faces in here.” Alex noted nods from a few of the detectives, including Chuck and his partner, Robert Kim.
“Thanks everyone for being here this morning. I know we’ve got several weeks before hearings begin, but I wanted to get a solid feel for this as early as possible,” Sydney continued. “How about we go around the table and have some introductions before we get started?”
Each of the attendees introduced themselves as Sydney cross-noted their names on a legal pad. They then began a review of the case with Detective Severs providing an overview of the exhaustive three year investigation that had led to the identification of Matthew James Sinclair as the White Rose Killer.
“Tell me about Sinclair, Chuck,” Sydney asked the detective. “What’s his background?”
“He’s a trust fund baby. He was actually adopted at a young age by the Sinclair family and as a result is the only child in a very wealthy family. His parents died about five years ago, making him a very rich man.”
Sydney nodded. “I’ve already received notice from his attorneys. They’re from a very high dollar private firm.”
White Roses Calling Page 1
