by Unknown
College life had been completely different, just like her law firm.
Carefree, she realized.
You were so carefree in college and working at Seymour & Finch, like you could do anything, be anything. You had it all together. You knew exactly where you were headed. To the exclusion of everyone else, she added. Jack, Rose, anyone that came between you and your goals.
She called Rose.
Her daughter picked up on the first ring.
“Hey, Mom. Good to hear from you. What’s up?”
Avery watched the rain wash down her window.
“Nothing,” she said. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”
“You’re not canceling tomorrow, are you?”
“Don’t even think about it,” Avery seethed.
“Excellent! Noon at the Back Bay Fens. By the war memorial?”
“I know.”
“I’m excited!” Rose cheered. “OK, I’ve got to go now. A few of my friends are headed out to a party. See you tomorrow. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
The drive home was slow and miserable. Avery parked and used her jacket to protect her from the downpour as she ran into the building. The one bright side of the day was her new apartment. Even with the boxes and the darkness of night, the larger, brighter space made her feel like she could actually breathe. She pulled a beer from the refrigerator and stared at the rain through her balcony doors.
She imagined the killer, lurking in the darkness.
What are you doing tonight? she wondered.
After her beer, she nibbled on some leftovers and took a shower. The warm water cleared away much of her stress.
In bed, she put her computer on her lap and began to research astronomy.
Planets, stars, she thought. What am I missing?
Two hours later, she was fast asleep, the computer light shining in her face.
*
In her dreams, Avery was running. Monsters were behind her: Desoto, Randall, the boys from her orphanage. They crushed buildings and tore down walls. Avery moved in slow motion. Although she tried to run fast, her arms were like molasses, her legs took forever to rise and then touch the ground. The monsters were fast and relentless. Finally, they were upon her, all of them in a circle. Terror gripped her in that moment. None of them approached. Instead, they backed away to reveal a new terror, someone blanketed in shadow, with long black arms that reached down to grab her.
Avery shot up in bed.
“Huh!”
Her computer nearly fell to the floor, but in a quick motion, she jerked over to the side and grabbed it just in time.
Sunlight beamed through her windows.
Her phone was ringing: Dylan Connelly’s cell.
She picked up.
“Hello?” she whispered and then cleared her throat. “Hello?”
“Avery,” he said in a gentle voice that belied his gruff persona. “Sorry to wake you up. I know it’s your day off. Captain said we can figure out how to make up the time to you later. Right now, we’d like you to come up to Lederman Park on the southern tip, just north of Longfellow Bridge. You know where that is?”
“Yeah,” she said. “What happened?”
“There’s another body.”
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
To get to the southern tip of Lederman Park, Avery had to take Embankment Road south along the park. As Longfellow Bridge drew closer, she could see that traffic had nearly come to a standstill heading east into Boston. Many people were out of their cars and pointing down toward the park. Similarly, two police boats were visible on the Charles River, close to the spot where she was headed.
The pointed tip of the park was dotted with shrubs and trees. Embankment Road turned onto a bike path. A state trooper vehicle was there, along with two police cars from the A1, an ambulance, forensics van, and photographer.
Dylan Connelly was easy to spot when Avery pulled up. His bulky chest and arms could barely fit into his gray jacket. He had thick blond hair that curled up in the front. The grimace on his face turned into a sigh at the sight of Avery, which surprised her. He’d been a miserable supervisor. Impossible to work with during her first big case as a detective, he was practically a ghost in the months that followed. Assignments simply appeared on her desk, or she was informed by the captain or Ramirez about an upcoming case; not at all like the Homicide supervisor he was supposed to be.
“Thanks for coming out,” he said.
“I’m glad you called,” she replied.
“Let me start by saying we’re not sure this body has any connection to the marina. I would have handled it myself, but O’Malley wanted to loop you in because the body is in water. Maybe it’s related; maybe it’s not. Best you should be here to help figure it out.”
“When was the body found?”
“About three hours ago.”
“ID?”
“No clue yet.”
He led her over a grassy strip toward the water. A tangle of bushes acted as a barrier. One spot of brush had been pulled apart in both directions, with the branches roped off by police to create a path.
“Forensics came through here first to make sure we wouldn’t mess up the scene in case there was something to be found in the shrubs. They made a pathway afterwards. Randy is still down there with the body.”
Randy Johnson was one of Avery’s first friends when she arrived at the A1. The quirky forensics investigator had helped her on a few gang-related deaths during her rookie year, and had proved to be not only efficient, but fun.
On her hands and knees, one foot in the water and completely encased in branches and leaves, Randy held up a hand to keep Avery back. She wore standard field gear: white pants, white jacket, and a white shower cap to keep her hair back.
“Hold on, girl,” she called. “Give me one more second.”
The dead body was directly in front of Avery on the ground.
Half submerged in river, it was an older woman on her stomach: thin body, naked with a fan of gray hair around her head. Her legs drifted with the tide. Her torso was on a rock-and-dirt shelf. One of her hands was lost in the shrubs. Her right arm was by her side. No wounds were clearly visible. Hair was slightly parted toward the back of her neck, and Avery thought she could see a black-and-blue mark, possibly from strangulation.
Randy delicately lifted a lock of the woman’s hair.
“Look here,” she said.
The tiny red shirt of a child was visible beneath the hair.
“What is it?” Avery asked.
“One of many strange items around the body,” Randy replied. “I’m just trying to figure out what might have been placed here, and what drifted in from the water. It’s hard to tell. Look around. So far I’ve counted six suspicious items. See what you can find.”
The area was by no means clean. Litter was scattered through the brush, and a plastic bottle was partially buried nearby. Focused on the outline of the body only, Avery cleared her mind and tried to imagine possible clues left by the killer.
A gold pin was visible. The label of something. She leaned down closer and noticed it was ingredients, maybe for peanut butter. There was also a husk of corn.
She repositioned herself to see areas of the body that weren’t visible. Near the partially closed fist of the victim’s left hand, Avery noticed a dangle bracelet and a loose piece of wheat.
The dangle bracelet lay in the dirt beneath the woman’s hand, as if it had fallen there. It was grimy silver, with three items visible on it: a cross, a moon, and a heart.
A moon, Avery thought.
“I count six items as well,” she relayed to Randy, “the child’s shirt, a golden pin, corn husk, peanut butter label, dangle bracelet, and a piece of wheat. Is that what you got?”
“Give the girl a gold star!” Randy cheered. “I think we can discount the peanut butter label because that looks like it’s been here for a long time. Maybe even the husk and the kid’s shirt, which is really dirty.”
“Agreed,” Avery said. “I’m not sure about the pin. Not in line with the last kill. Not sure what a piece of wheat is doing here, either. That dangle bracelet attracted my attention. There’s a moon on it. The killer might be some kind of astronomy nut. We’re not sure. Was she wearing that, do you think? Holding it?”
“She was holding something,” Randy said. “Might have fallen out of her grip.”
“Why wouldn’t the killer just put it on her wrist?”
Randy shrugged.
“What about the body?” Avery said. “Is this how you found it?”
“Exactly like this,” Randy said. “Just floating, half in the water, half out.”
Half in. Half out, Avery thought. A woman and her shadow. Half and half. The new victim with part of her body on land, part on sea. What could it mean? What is he trying to say?
“Can I see her face?” Avery asked.
“Sure.”
Randy picked up a swath of hair and pulled it away.
The woman had a narrow neck, oval face, and a long nose. Avery guessed she was anywhere between forty and fifty. Strangely, the woman looked familiar. Where have I seen that face before? she wondered.
With no identification of the victim and little to go on by way of clues, Avery had to admit to Connelly that the dead body might not be related to her case. Still, she couldn’t shake the moon amulet on the bracelet, or the feeling that she knew the victim.
Thompson and Jones were brought in to handle the area.
Avery watched as photographers took pictures and the corpse was eventually hauled out of the water and put into a black body bag.
She called Ramirez.
The phone went to voicemail.
“Hey,” she said. “Where are you? Call me back.”
Anger came to her then. She was angry. Angry at being ignored by Ramirez, angry at having no leads in her case, and angry at Randall for leading her down another empty path.
She checked the time.
It was still early. Ten o’clock.
One quick trip, she thought. One quick trip and I’ll be with Rose and Jack on a sunlit lawn in Northeastern and he’ll see I love my family just as much as my work.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
“You lied to me,” Avery said.
Howard Randall sat before her. He looked healthier than the last time they’d met, almost as if her last visit had somehow rejuvenated his joie de vivre.
A frown came to him.
“Why would I lie?” he asked. “What do I have to gain, Avery? Is that why you came here? To force me to admit some kind of foul play?”
“He gave you the cycle. That’s what you said. ‘First body’ doesn’t necessarily refer to the victim. You practically pointed me in the direction of astronomy.”
A smirk came to his face.
“Did I? Are you sure? Because that’s not how I see it at all.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
A menacing flair came to his nostrils. He pressed his palms on the table and leaned forward.
“You know the rules!”
“I’m not playing this game anymore.”
“Then you’ll get nothing,” he snapped.
“Dammit!” Avery yelled.
“What do you think this is?” he asked. “You come in here every time you need help and I’m just supposed to give you whatever you need? I am in prison, Avery. I willingly offered to put myself in here, for you.”
“Don’t say that.
“For you,” he stressed. “To help you, to show you the light. And what do you do? You act like a lost little girl. You come crawling in here for answers, begging,” he said and pretended to cry as he spoke in the voice of a child, “because Detective Black really wants to do a great job! You’re so predictable,” he hissed in his own voice. “What a disappointment. Surprise me! Do something different. Say something different.”
The way lay before her.
She could see it.
He wants information, she thought. Give him information. Tell him about Rose, about your past, about everything. Get what you want.
She couldn’t do it.
The words wouldn’t come out.
You’re like a prostitute, she realized. Ready to pimp out your life—your family.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re right. I am a disappointment. I don’t know why I keep coming here. You know what I told my partner the other day? I said you were like a father figure to me. Can you believe that? That I would think—even for one second—that a murdering psychopath like you could possibly be my father?”
She laughed—bitter and hard.
Tears came to her eyes.
“Actually, I just realized something,” she noticed. “That makes perfect sense. In a lot of ways, you’re exactly like my father.”
She stood up and banged on the door.
“Let me out of here!” she yelled.
“I guess, then, we’re both disappointments,” Randall whispered. “And for the record—cycles and bodies don’t just refer to astronomy.”
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
How can you break the cycle?
How can you take advantage of each moment in life?
I have found the key.
I can unlock the prize.
Come all who dare.
I defy you.
The first body is set. More will come.
Avery began to understand what he meant the moment Randall’s door shut behind her. Instinctively, she turned back to gain more insight; the guard pushed her forward.
“Once you’re out, you can’t return,” he said.
Astrology, she thought. That has to be what he’s been trying to tell me. Not astronomy, astrology.
She recalled some of the lines from the letter. “How can you break the cycle? I have found the key. The first body is set. More will come.”
He wants to change something, she realized, something in his life. He thinks he can change it by using astrology. How is that possible?
Avery had a basic layman’s understanding of astrology. She knew it involved planets, and that each planet represented a sign. Where and when someone was born indicated their sign based on where the planets were during that time period. Some people even believed that a particular sign was like a lifelong badge that determined behavior patterns and personality traits.
I’m a Taurus, she thought. And she knew that because she was born in May, and apparently people born in May were in the sign of Taurus, which was supposed to mean she was reliable, patient, and stable. Yeah, she joked. Patient and stable. That’s me.
Venemeer’s bookstore, she realized.
For some reason, that had always remained in the back of her mind. Simms had been there. Ramirez had been there. But she’d never seen it for herself. There weren’t any noticeable astrology books in Venemeer’s apartment. Why not? she wondered. If these killings are somehow related to astrology, there has to be evidence somewhere.
Without a positive ID on victim number two, she hopped in her car and headed to her only possible lead: Venemeer’s bookstore.
It was eleven thirty.
No way I can make that picnic, Avery thought.
Jack was right; you are married to your work. That’s not true! she fought. There’s a killer on the loose. It’s not like I need to answer emails or have some random phone conference. Every second I waste, someone could die!
She dialed Rose.
The voice on the other end was tentative but hopeful.
“Hey, Mom. What’s up? Where are you?”
A churning feeling crunched in Avery’s stomach.
This sucks, she thought. You’re going to lose her again. I’m not going to lose my daughter over a goddamn picnic! she inwardly fought.
“Rose, I’ve got some bad news. I can’t make it. I know this is what you expected—and it’s definitely what your father expected—but another body was found this morning and I just discovered a serious lead on the killer
.”
“No problem,” Rose replied, flat and emotionless. “Thanks for calling.”
Shit, Avery thought. You’ve already lost her.
“Honey, I swear, if it were anything else, I’d be there. This is too important. Someone’s life might be at stake. Right now.”
“Someone’s life is always at stake, Mom. I feel like I’ve been hearing that for years. When you were a lawyer, it was about saving someone from a death sentence. Now it’s about saving someone from a murderer. You know what I’ve learned in all that time? Life is about choices. You made yours a long time ago. Sorry I keep getting in the way.”
The line went dead.
“Rose, that’s not true. Rose!? Shit!”
You screwed up, Avery told herself. Jack said you would screw up and he was right. How could I know about all this? Avery fought. Go to her, then. You can still make it. Say hello. Sit down for a few minutes. It’s your day off. Do this later. For once, show your daughter you care. Avery’s mind screamed back: There’s a murderer on the loose!
“Dammit!” she yelled aloud.
She ran a red light.
A car nearly smashed into her.
The driver turned and Avery turned her wheel at the last second and narrowly avoided a hit to her back end. Horns blared everywhere.
She pulled over to the curb.
The car she’d nearly collided with started up again and slowly inched away. Traffic resumed at the intersection.
Her heart was beating fast. Sweat dotted her face.
Two paths were laid out before her. On the one side, she saw Jack and Rose, laughing and drinking on a grassy lawn at a quiet university. On the other side, she imagined a killer stalking prey and ready to kill again. Memories flared: Her father stood over her with a shotgun. Edwin Peet’s eyes shone yellow in the darkness as he hopped from side to side. The second victim, face down and naked in the Charles River.
I have no choice, she told herself. I have no choice.
She dialed Ramirez.
Again, he didn’t pick up.
Avery left a message.
“I don’t know why you’re avoiding me,” she said, “but there’s a new body and I’ve got a lead. Meet me at Venemeer’s shop on Sumner Street. I’m headed there now.”
