Cusp of Crazy: Nick Stryker Series, Book One, Shallow End Gals

by Vicki Graybosch

  Nick drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he contemplated the meaning of Dunfee contacting Internal Affairs.

  Casey had refused Tanner’s offer to pick her up for work. She wasn’t going to suck him into this mess any more than she already had. She checked that her apartment door was locked, twice, before she left the building to hail a cab. A folded newspaper was in the backseat and she saw the headline about a cab driver being murdered last night. Casey asked her driver if he knew the man who had been murdered.

  The cab driver frowned at her. “You think we all know each other? Was he an Indian? Surely I must know him if he’s from India!” He began to erratically change lanes sending Casey’s purse flying off of her lap.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by my question. I think it’s terrible you can die just doing your job. Geesh.” Casey retrieved her purse from the floor and watched out the window. Well, this day was starting great.

  Momma finished another tray of muffins and brought them to the front of the store. Mitch had a line of customers he was moving along at a good clip. Early sales were newspapers, muffins and coffee. Momma’s prices were fair, the muffins homemade, and the coffee hot.

  Momma looked at her watch and then to Mitch. “You best be pickin’ up Eli shortly and go fill out that report for Nick like he asked.”

  Mitch nodded to Momma as he smiled at his customer and gave change. “Ain’t gonna leave you ‘til this rush ends. Told Nick last night it might be close to nine ‘fore we got there.”

  Momma unloaded her tray in the glass case and smiled. “Does a heart good seein’ Nick. Ain’t he just the cutest thing?”

  Momma looked up in time to see Oink come through the door. She waved him over to the corner of the counter. “Mornin’ sugar. You got ‘portant business to tend to. You ain’t standing in no line. What can Momma get ya?”

  Undercover cop Jessie Merano tried again to reach his partner, James, by phone. Something was very wrong for James not to answer his call. Both he and James were on the Chicago police special gang task force. An important gun sale sting was supposed to go down in just two hours. Jessie was going to bring the buyer to the basement for the money exchange and the arrest.

  James had volunteered to guard the guns last night. They had spent two days loading the guns into the basement of a vacated residential apartment building the city owned. The building’s ownership had reverted to the city because of back taxes and the police decided to use it for temporary storage. Jessie was the task team’s leader. He had not expected anything to go wrong at the storage site.

  Jessie and fellow undercover officer, Mark, arrived in the alley at the side of the storage building. Jesse surveyed the neighborhood. This was one of four buildings that took up the entire block. Everything appeared to be fine, except James wasn’t answering the phone. The door to the basement was still bolted from the inside. Jessie kicked the coal chute door open. He lowered himself to the basement floor and Mark followed. They stood silently listening for James. Nothing.

  Their eyes scanned the walls as they pulled their pistols and walked toward the alcove near the furnace where the guns were stored. No James. One of the crate lids was loosened and moved exposing the guns. Mark’s penlight rested on a large pool of tacky blood on the concrete floor. His brow furrowed as he glanced at Jessie.

  They both walked the perimeter of the basement room and confirmed that the door was still bolted from the inside and the wood over the windows was still intact. Jessie holstered his pistol. “We’ve got us a big problem.”

  Detective Carl Harrisen was already at his desk when Nick arrived. He called Nick over and invited him to sit. Harrisen had a stack of files in front of him and rested his forearms on them as he leaned forward. “Your Chief let you take the cabbie?”

  Nick assumed Carl was resting on old cases Don O’Brian had been involved in. It struck him that Carl had too many leads and he had none. “We have opposite problems.” Nick gestured at the stack of files. “My cabbie seems to have no family and no friends. I’m going to visit his boss in a bit.”

  Carl said, “A cab job in Chicago is almost as bad as being a cop. If he’s new to the job he might not know how to read people yet.” Carl leaned back and raised his unibrow. “Could be you caught a random crazy.”

  Random crazy. Nick thought about that phrase and grimaced. The hardest type of case to solve was one with no motive. He hoped Carl was wrong.

  “Anything I can do to help you on Don’s case?”

  Carl appeared to be considering the offer and then shook his head. “No offense, but I work better alone. My Chief forced Don to work with me. Neither of us liked it.”

  Carl’s candor surprised Nick.

  Carl continued, “I checked you out last night. A Navy Seal for six years? Damn impressive. Now a homicide cop. How long do you have to train for Seals? Thirty months?”

  “Close. Minimum thirty six. If you want to specialize, then more.” Nick was proud of his Seal duty but uncomfortable talking about it. “My partner, Jen, is working this with me. Can we use those desks in the back? Chief says I can stay ‘til things heat up at home.”

  “No problem. Look, we’re supposed to have six guys at all times.” Carl tapped the pile of files in front of him. “Don’s gone and I’m going to work this exclusively ‘til I catch the bastard. Any more volunteering you two want to do while you’re here is good news to me.”

  Wayne Dunfee walked in the room, nodded at Nick and went to his desk. Carl lowered his voice and tilted his head toward Wayne. “Smart guy. A little paranoid, but smart.”

  The 107th Chief buzzed Carl’s desk. “I want what’s left of your team in my office now!”

  Carl made the announcement. Chairs scraped the floor and people moaned. Carl looked at Nick. “You too, newbie. Welcome to the 107th.”

  Carl, Wayne, Nick, Jen and a man named Sam all walked single file down the long hall to the glass office door that read Chief. They all stood as the Chief finished a phone conversation and plopped heavily in his chair.

  “Special gang task force had a gun sting planned for this morning. One of their guys was assigned to guard the gun storage building last night. He’s missing. We’ve got a large pool of blood in a locked basement room. No sign of entry or exit.” The Chief rubbed the back of his neck. “Obviously, the sting is probably blown. Hell, I don’t know. Maybe they’ll just reschedule it. In any event, CSU has been called and I need somebody to take this. Our undercover guys can’t be seen.”

  Carl scratched his chin and the guy named Sam just looked up at the ceiling. Nick spoke, “My partner Jen and I could go sir. We have a clear slate at the 115th, and only one open here.”

  The Chief smiled and handed Nick a piece of paper. “Your Chief told me you would volunteer.” The Chief frowned at Sam. “Go with them. If they get called back to the 115th, I have to have somebody here that knows what’s going on.” The Chief turned to Nick, “Find our guy. I’ll try to keep the press out of this. We have a feeding frenzy growing with a murdered cop already.”

  Nick and the others left the Chief’s office. Jen leaned in and whispered, “Where are we going?”

  Nick read her the address and said, “I think it’s over by that Casey gal.”

  Tanner arrived at the office early, made coffee, and paced the hall. He was sure Casey would have a plan and he was afraid to start without her. Shelly and Joyce arrived and went to their desks. Tanner decided not to say anything about what had happened last night. He heard the elevator stop outside their lobby door and watched as Casey stood in the hall looking at the ceiling and walls.

  Tanner walked out to greet her. “What are we looking at?”

  Casey pointed to the end of the hall. “We have one surveillance camera for our entire floor and I’ll bet it isn’t working.” Since Tanner was also her business partner, she had to get his approval to spend any big money. Casey touched Tanner’s elbow and he looked at her. Casey declared, “I want to call a security company
and have something installed.”

  Tanner wasn’t about to argue that they couldn’t afford such an extravagance and answered, “Definitely. I was thinking the same thing.”

  “Liar.” Casey smiled at him and pushed open their main office door. She stopped and looked at Tanner. “Does everyone already know about last night?”

  Tanner put his finger over his mouth and pretended to be locking it. Casey stopped at Shelly’s door, “Did you log in yesterday’s books?”

  “Yeah. You want the log sheet?”

  “Yes. Get me our bank deposit log, too, okay?” Casey started to leave and noticed a colorful Band-Aid on Shelly’s finger. “You hurt yourself?” Casey held up her finger.

  Shelly looked at her finger and shrugged. “Cut it with a razor blade yesterday.”

  Casey froze and looked at Tanner.

  Tanner asked, “What are you doing with razor blades?” He prayed Shelly had a good answer.

  “Been painting around the windows in my apartment. I got a little sloppy on the glass. Why?” Tanner shook his head and followed Casey from the room.

  Tanner watched Casey slowly walk across her office and sit in her chair. He walked over and poured her a cup of coffee, which she gladly took from him. Her silence was driving him mad. “Don’t start jumping to conclusions. It’s just a coincidence.”

  Casey swiveled in her chair. “I know. We’re going to figure this out. Today.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  Casey answered while she scanned over her emails. “See if Joyce or Shelly remember giving me that book.” She looked up at Tanner, “I don’t want to spook them about this yet. Can we keep this a secret a while longer?”

  “Yep.”

  Tanner walked back toward his office and bumped into a UPS man outside Shelly’s door.

  Tanner looked in and saw Shelly moving a small box from her desk. Tanner grabbed it from her. “Mind?” Tanner ripped open the box before Shelly could protest. The box held a case of ink cartridges for their printers. Tanner set it back on Shelly’s desk.

  “You okay, Tanner? You and Casey seem weird this morning.” Shelly moved the box to her intake shelf to be logged. Tanner mumbled something and left the room.

  Shelly glanced over to Joyce. “Something is going on.”

  Joyce shrugged, “Maybe they’re dating again and don’t want anyone to know.”

  “You mean me. I’m over him. So over him.” Shelly tried to sound convincing.

  Jessie Merano got Nick’s cell number from the Chief and asked Nick to meet him around the block from the guns. Nick realized that he was right in front of Casey’s apartment building. His passenger door opened and Jessie got in.

  “Stryker?” Nick nodded and Jessie continued. “I don’t know what we have in there. I’m ‘under’ so I can’t go back.” Jessie rubbed his forehead as he spoke and Nick sensed Jessie’s frustration. “There’s a lot of blood. One big pool. No drops, no trail. We’ve got a locked environment from what I can see. We have a gun sting set for ten this morning. Now we’re moving it to the other side of town. Patrol is moving the guns for me. James guarded the guns last night.” Jessie glanced nervously around the neighborhood.

  “Someone opened a crate and found the guns. James wouldn’t have opened the crate. He already knew what was in them.” Jessie exhaled, “This sting has a high chance of going south, but I have to keep it in play. It might take me to James.” Jessie had his hand on the door handle preparing to leave, the stress of the morning obvious on his face, his eyes piercing. “Chief said you’ve had special training. I need you to figure this out. If that blood is James’s where is he? If it isn’t James’s blood, whose blood is it and where are they?”

  Jessie shook his head. “I scoured every inch of that basement. The door is bolted from the inside, windows boarded. There’s a possibility that the coal chute door was jammed and not locked when I kicked it in. Can’t tell from what’s left. I wouldn’t want to heft a dead body up through it. Why not carry it out the door?”

  Nick let Jessie ramble. This was starting to sound impossible.

  Jessie handed Nick a slip of paper. “I wrote down a list of names from the gang we’re working on.”

  Nick nodded. “You put your number on here?”

  “Yeah. If you find the guy and I’m around, take me, too. Don’t be nice about it. Keep it real or it could get me killed. Keep me posted on James. I’ll do the same.” Jessie glanced up and down the street, jumped from the car, and took off across a parking lot.

  Nick noticed a man on the sidewalk in front of Casey’s building. The man was holding a skateboard by the toe of his boot. When he realized Nick was looking at him, he scooted quickly around the corner.

  Nick wondered if he hadn’t just seen Eric. Casey’s description of him replayed in his mind. Nick drove around the block and looked for Jen’s car in the chaos. She was already up by the building talking to CSU. Jessie had a good point; why take the body?

  He cruised through the Chicago traffic mindlessly, smiling, obsessing about Casey. He got goose bumps when he pictured her finding that soap. This was much more fun than he’d expected. He spent hours last night binding another book so that Chapter Two appeared where it should among three hundred blank pages. He desperately wanted to deliver it today, but he had to look busy, normal. He had to at least pretend to work. There was plenty of time. Events to plan. Don’t rush.

  He was within a block of Casey’s apartment. A sea of police vehicles and flashing blue lights crowded the building behind hers. Officers with serious expressions huddled in small groups while pedestrians pushed against the yellow crime scene tape. He parked his car where he could watch. He lowered his window and inhaled the fear and excitement in the air. He could taste it.

  One cop stood out as special. There was a danger about him. His movements were subtle, stealthy, and highly trained. As he studied the man, he exhaled slowly. His monsters stirred, excited. He felt his heart ratcheting power and pound in his ears. In his mind’s eye he saw his monsters pacing, thick drool seeping from the corners of their mouths.

  This one would be a challenge; his most dangerous yet. A trophy.

  Nick sensed someone watching him and quickly turned. No one looked out of place. Nick trusted his instincts. He was close to evil, and evil had spotted him.

  CHAPTER 5

  Eli and Mitch arrived at Precinct 107th at precisely nine a.m. and inched their way through the crowded waiting room to the main desk. The intake officer ignored them for a full five minutes and finally looked up. “What do you need?”

  Mitch cleared his throat, “We are supposed to report to homicide at nine.”

  The officer pointed down a hall. “Second elevator, third floor, turn left at the glass door, second door on the right.” He went back to his reading.

  Eli kept repeating the instructions under his breath. Mitch frowned at him. Eli protested, “Ain’t exactly the kind of place I want to get lost in, dude. Bad enough I’m missing work for this.”

  Mitch pushed the elevator button for the third floor. “I think the city can survive two hours without one of its utility dudes.”

  Eli leaned against the wall of the elevator, noticed the grime on the wall and stepped to the center. “I’m not a utility dude. I’m a critical function analyst.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Whatever is right. Who do you think your Momma calls every time the power blinks?”

  The elevator opened and Eli and Mitch found themselves standing at another desk with another officer reading reports and ignoring them. Mitch cleared his throat after a couple of minutes. The officer looked up, “Who died?”

  Eli was startled by the question, but answered, “Some cab driver.” Eli glanced at Mitch and shrugged.

  The officer punched an intercom button, waited, and then said, “You’ve got people waiting.”

  Wayne opened the door to the homicide waiting room and smiled at Eli and Mitch. “Not you guys!”


  Eli smiled, “Oink!”

  Once seated across from Wayne’s desk, Eli and Mitch were asked to repeat every detail about last night while Wayne typed it to the case file report. When they got to the part about the businessman that took refuge under the awning, Wayne stopped them.

  “Describe exactly what that briefcase looked like.”

  Eli sighed, “We already told Stryker we couldn’t see all that good because of the rain on the door. I think it was some kind of brown color with a girly strap.”

  Mitch pointed, “Like that guy’s.”

  Wayne turned and saw that Mitch was pointing at Carl who had just arrived and hung his briefcase on a wall hook behind his chair.

  Wayne smiled, “You want to go tell him he has a girly strap briefcase?”

  Carl had glanced over and saw that all three men were staring at him. His expression went grim. Don’s funeral was at three and he had a mountain of work to do first. Eli sat up straighter in his chair, but kept glancing back at Carl. He whispered to Wayne, “I ain’t telling that guy nothin’, but it was that kind of briefcase, maybe a little darker.”

  Nick and Jen had spent thirty minutes scanning the walls and floor of the basement. Nick had requested for a city utility worker to meet them and he finally arrived. Nick had removed the duct work from the furnace blower and the wall cap from the sewer line.

  “I’ve crawled up that duct work and nobody’s been in there.” Nick was brushing dirt from his shoulders and pants as he spoke. “Is this the only furnace for this building?”

  The utility worker shrugged. “I guess so. It has four zones here on the panel and there are four units in this building. I think they are all vacant though. The city is probably just keeping the heat on low, so the pipes won’t freeze this winter.”