CHAPTER 10
Thursday noon
His body felt feverish, hot. He was furious. He tossed the newspaper into his backseat. His monsters had killed the wrong man. He was sure it had been Wayne that broke into his home and copied his files. Wayne was supposed to die. He heard a metallic ticking sound in his mind. Maybe it was a scratching sound. A new thought blasted from the back of his mind. What if he was wrong about Wayne? What if someone else had broken into his home? What if someone else knew he was the ‘author’? Maybe that’s why his monsters didn’t kill Wayne. They may know things he doesn’t know. Could that be? Could he trust them?
He looked in his briefcase, pulled out his notebook and began to write. He needed to finish this book before there were any more mistakes. His writing came fast. His pen nearly tore through the page. He stopped to read what he had written. It surprised him. He contemplated this new ending.
It all came back to Casey. “Casey.” He whispered her name from the back of his throat. Anger boiled in him at the sound of her name. She will suffer. No quick kill for her. Casey will admit that she had wronged him and beg for her life. He would savor every tearful syllable. Then she would pay the price for ruining his career.
He needed a patsy for these murders. Someone Nick Stryker would believe was guilty. Then he would kill Stryker, his trophy. The end. Yes, this would be the new ending. At the thought of Nick, he felt his monsters stir and begin to growl. A bolt of excitement shot up his spine. Ah, they wanted him, too.
Deep in the underground storage facility for the city of Chicago, Eli pulled another long, mildew smelling box from the shelf and handed it to his coworker Peter. Peter dropped it to the cement floor and removed the lid. “Hey, dude! I think this is it.”
Eli slowly descended the ladder and crouched down to look. Ten rolls of old engineering drawings of the city utility lines labeled with the addresses Eli needed. Eli started pulling the rolls from the box and checked the surveyor dates. “Nah. These are too new. We need the drawings before these.” Eli and Peter both looked up to the ten foot high shelf unit and sighed. Eli slapped his hands together to make a dust cloud.
Peter looked at Eli and begged, “Can’t we stop now for lunch? Just an hour, man. I’m starvin’ and you’ve had me down in this filthy cave all mornin’.”
Eli was hungry and tired, too. He hadn’t had any sleep and only ate a muffin so far today. “Yeah, let’s take a break.” Eli felt the pressure of Nick wanting the plans as soon as possible, but he was actually almost dizzy from the morning’s work. Nick could wait one more hour. Chad wasn’t getting any more dead.
Nick phoned Jessie as he drove to Casey’s office. Jessie answered on the first ring. “You got something?”
“No. I have FBI watching James’s cell, charge cards, and bank account. Nothing. Cell must have been turned off, no way to track. I’ve got the city digging for the old engineering drawings on that building. DNA on the blood should be back later today or first thing tomorrow. Anything on your end?”
Jessie sighed, “Nothing. Nobody has seen or heard from him. I’ve talked to his mom, girlfriend, everybody.”
Nick told Jessie about the hidden bolt release found on the real basement door. “Do you think James may have known about it?”
Jessie’s voice had a renewed enthusiasm. “He might have known. I didn’t. Maybe someone surprised him, there was a fight, and James took the body out that door to get rid of it. Maybe he’s not sure what to do now.” Jessie thought; James would have called me.
Nick pulled up to Casey’s office building. “What made you guys pick that building?”
“James picked it.”
Nick’s gut clenched. “Did he say why? Could he have been working another deal that went bad?” Nick thought that scenario was stronger than James vanishing into thin air.
Jessie was silent for a moment. “I don’t know.”
“When I get the drawings, I’ll call you if they look promising. I don’t even know what I’m looking for except some reason for that fake wall in that basement.”
Nick watched Tanner pull from the parking garage and merge with the traffic. Hopefully Casey was still at the office. It was lunch time, he should have called. Nick took the stairs up to the building two at a time and studied the office board in the lobby. Casey’s business took the entire third floor of the building. The second floor was shared by two shrinks and the ground level was a CPA and a real estate company.
His conversation with Jessie replayed in his mind as he rode the elevator to the third floor. The frustration of not finding James ate at him. He could only imagine what Jessie was going through. If something ever happened to Jen…The elevator door opened and a huge sign announced that he was entering a secured area. A very noticeable camera pointed right at the elevator. Nick waved and walked down the hall to the first door.
He stood at Shelly’s desk and smiled when she looked up. “Nick Stryker. Is Casey here?”
Shelly just stared, her mind locked. She couldn’t even hear him. She saw his mouth move. His dark hair, blue eyes and tanned skin. His teeth were perfect and very white. He was still smiling at her.
Joyce walked over from her desk, “Don’t mind her. She hasn’t had a date in a while. I’m Joyce; Casey is at the end of the hall to the right.” Joyce pointed at Shelly, “This is Shelly.” Shelly slowly nodded. Nick smiled again and left for Casey’s office.
Joyce returned to her desk giggling.
Shelly blurted, “Have you ever seen such a gorgeous man? OMG!” She quickly turned her seat and began digging in her purse that was on the shelf behind her. In two minutes her desktop was covered in makeup as she popped open her compact mirror and moaned. “Why couldn’t today have been a good hair day?”
Joyce returned her attention to the book she was reading and mumbled, “Maybe because we spent three hours in jail last night?”
Casey’s door was open and Nick gave it a soft knock as he walked in. “How are you today?”
Casey rested her arms on the desktop and looked up. “Okay. Thank you for coming to our rescue last night.”
Nick pointed to a chair, “May I?”
Casey sputtered, “Of course. Would you like some coffee? A soda maybe? Gosh, where are my manners?”
“I’m fine. I just have a few questions. I saw Tanner leave. Are you expecting him to return after lunch?”
“Yes. He’s just taking some papers to our insurance rep and doing the banking. Have you found out anything about his car?”
“It was tampered with. Have you found out anything on Rachel Sarrin?”
Casey shook her head. “I think that’s a pen name. The only thing I thought of was to leave a review on one of her books. Authors check those all the time. I want to set some kind of trap.”
Nick was impressed. That actually was a good idea. “You’re right, this Rachel Sarrin doesn’t exist and is most likely a man. A police officer received manuscript sections by the same author. The FBI began an investigation, so we know a little more now.”
Casey blurted, “Let me see if I have this right. When I complained about this Rachel chick, they made me come in and leave an incident report. When a cop receives the same kind of stuff from the same author, they call in the FBI?”
Nick frowned. Casey needed to understand how serious her situation was. “The FBI was called in, because that detective was murdered.”
Casey felt the room spin. She placed her forearms squarely on her desktop for security. Nick thought she was going to pass out, but instead she asked, “By Rachel?”
“A person calling themselves Rachel, yes. At least that’s the assumption we are working under.” Nick didn’t want to scare Casey too much, but he wanted her to let him handle the situation. “I need to figure out why you were picked.”
Casey opened her top drawer and handed Nick a copy of the review her firm had given on one of Rachel Sarrin’s books. Nick read it and handed it back. “Not exactly glowing. Not exactly motive for murd
er either.”
Casey chuckled and said, “Obviously you don’t know many authors. A bunch of drama nuts that live in the world of make believe. Not the majority of them, of course, but certainly more now that they can self-publish. Think about it. Anyone that has something to say, or a story to tell, types it on their computer, hits ‘send’ and voila! A book.” Casey thought about what she had just said and added, “The way we are going to catch this ‘author’ is to appeal to her ego.”
Nick took a small notebook from his jacket pocket and flipped it open. “Casey, I need to ask you a few personal questions.”
Casey swallowed, “Sure.”
“Are you the sole owner of this business?”
“No. Tanner is my partner. I’m going to state right here that Tanner is a victim. He is not this ‘author’.”
Nick smiled, “Are you still a couple?”
“No.”
“When did you stop being a couple and why?” Nick was reminded that he and Lacey had stopped being a couple and he hadn’t even realized it.
“He cheated on me with Shelly, last year.”
Nick pointed down the hall and Casey nodded.
Nick asked, “Does he think you might take him back?”
“No. We’re still friends though. He’s probably my best friend.” Casey leaned forward, “Shelly doesn’t know that I know.”
Nick nodded.
Casey kept thinking about the Key Man policy. She had better be the one to tell Nick about it or it might not look good for Tanner. “There is something that we just did that might look unusual.”
Statements like that signaled a gold mine ahead. Nick looked up, “And what would that be?”
“We just signed a Key Man insurance policy for the company. If either of us dies, the other gets paid two million dollars.” Casey realized it sounded a lot worse out loud than it had in her head.
“I’m not jumping to conclusions, Casey, but who initiated this insurance policy?” Tanner could easily have manipulated the events so far, including tampering with his own car. People kill for far less.
Casey rested her head in her hands and mumbled, “Tanner.”
Jen sat in her car in front of Chad’s mother’s home and reviewed her notes from interviewing Chad’s neighbors. Everyone said the same thing. Chad was a nice enough guy, but socially awkward. No one could remember ever seeing him with a girl or guy for that matter. He had assumed the role of building superintendent to get a break on his rent. The other tenants in the building said they would miss him. Chad had done a good job addressing their complaints.
Jen took a deep breath and headed toward the small cottage style house. Crammed on postage size lots, the street view almost looked like a miniature village. The houses were small, post war style and well maintained. Chad’s mom’s door was painted hot pink. Every door on the block was some bright distinguishing color. It was really the only thing that set them apart.
Jen rang the doorbell and knocked. She waited a couple of minutes and rang the bell again. She heard a loud clumping sound and the door squeaked open to expose a very large woman clutching a metal walker. The woman’s house dress was smeared with droppings from several meals and her eyes red rimmed.
“What’s the big hurry?” The woman’s voice had a strange screeching edge and her lungs whistled and wheezed when she inhaled. A cigarette hung from her fingers and a long trail of ashes dropped to the floor. “Well? Who are you?”
Jen was startled at the foul odor escaping the doorway. A mixture of smoke, urine and stale food assaulted the crisp fall air. Jen winced.
“Mrs. Williams? I am a detective with the Chicago P.D. May I ask you a few questions, please?”
Chad’s mom lifted the walker to face the opposite direction and thumped her way to a large overstuffed chair. Jen closed the front door and followed. Her eyes began to burn and she recognized the distinct aroma of marijuana. The coffee table was littered with pill bottles and small bags of weed.
Chad’s mom dropped heavily to her chair and she frowned as she turned down the volume on the TV game show. “I suppose you’re here to arrest me.” Her beady eyes darted about Jen’s face for an answer.
Jen shook her head, “I’m here about Chad. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Chad’s mom huffed from her cigarette then crushed it for far too long in the overflowing ashtray. “Sorry, don’t get it, Missy. You gonna bring me my weed? Mow my lawn? Buy my groceries?” She pulled a tissue from her cleavage and wiped her eyes. “I don’t know what will become of me.”
Jen softly said, “I can put you in contact with people that can help you, if you’d like.”
Chad’s mom sighed, “I suppose I don’t have a choice. I told Chad this hell hole of a city would get him killed. Goin’ out all hours of the night to play darts in the bars. What kind of selfish person acts that way when people depend on them? Went and got him killed.” She shook her head as she lit another cigarette.
Jen reached over and grabbed one of the prescription bottles from the table. The prescription had expired three years ago. The bottle was half full. “Does Chad get you your pills and weed from the street dealers?”
“Not the dangerous druggies. Just some people that understood he was helpin’ his momma. The nice drug dealers. I would never have him mess with the bad guys for my drugs.” Her top lip rose each time she sniffled, exposing her top denture plate, making her look like a bulldog. Jen almost laughed.
“Mrs. Williams, there are no nice drug dealers. Do you know who sold Chad your drugs?”
“You’re gonna have to water board me for that!” She had sat up very straight and had a mean scowl on her face. “I know my rights. You can’t force me to divulge my medical issues.”
Jen couldn’t get the image out of her head how gross water boarding this woman would be. However, based on the smell in the room, it might help her. Jen stood to leave and handed Mrs. Williams one of her cards. “If you decide to cooperate and give us the name of Chad’s drug connection, you can call me at that number.”
Jen headed for the door and the old woman screeched, “Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out!”
Back in the car, Jen jotted down some notes and thought about what a sad life Chad had lived. Obviously his mother was consumed with herself and probably the source of unlimited demands on Chad. Jen looked at her watch and headed for Cubby’s Bar to have lunch with Nick. She would have to practically bathe in the sink there to feel clean enough to eat.
CHAPTER 11
Thursday at 2:0.0pm
Wayne worke from his fitful sleep to a banging athis door. He walked to this side window and saw Carl standing on his front porch. He was not going to deal with Carl until later. Wayne poured himself a glass of water at the kitchen sink. Carl banged again. Wayne waited. Then silence. Wayne started back to his bedroom when he heard his front door open. He stopped and walked back. Carl was standing in his living room.
“What are you doing? You just walk into my house? My door was locked.” Wayne was furious.
Carl looked a little startled, but held up a charge card that he slipped back into his wallet. He answered very calmly, “I’m doing a wellness check on you. Seems everyone thinks you should have been murdered last night.”
“Well, I wasn’t. I’ll head back when I’m ready.” Wayne had walked to the door and held it open for Carl to leave. “I wouldn’t pull this stunt again if I were you.”
Carl shrugged and left.
Jen and Nick exchanged reports on their morning interviews. Nick finished by telling Jen about the Key Man insurance policy. Jen swallowed a bite of salad and remarked, “Two million reasons for Tanner.”
Nick had a mouthful but nodded. Nick added, “I talked to the bartender just now. He was here when Chad left the bar. He remembers Wayne leaving the bar to get his charge card out of his car.”
Jen tapped her fork on her plate. “So, Wayne goes outside after Chad leaves in his coat, comes back in, and then Chad is
found dead. Curious.”
Nick raised an eyebrow, “Very.”
Jen leaned in and whispered, “Guess whose hubby cooked her a romantic dinner last night?”
Nick smiled, “What’s the occasion?”
Jen chuckled, “I thought it was to tell me he wanted a divorce.”
Nick frowned.
“No. We’re fine. I’m getting as bad as you at relationships. John had a surprise for me.” Jen was glowing and Nick noticed how her eyes sparkled when she mentioned him.
“It must have been some surprise. You haven’t beamed this much since last year’s Christmas party.” Jen slugged Nick’s arm.
“John wrote a book! A murder mystery. He gave me the first copy. He is so happy, Nick. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this excited about something.” Jen took another bite of her salad.
“When did he find time to write a book? How did he keep it a surprise?” As soon as Nick asked, he knew the answer. Of course, he had time. Of course, Jen wouldn’t know. She was seldom home anymore.
“Get this. He took a one year sabbatical from his job. He hasn’t worked for six months. I didn’t even know. He said he used our real crimes for the basis of his story. Even has a cracker female homicide detective.” Jen grinned from ear to ear.
Nick thought about his conversation with the Chiefs this morning and repeated most of it to Jen.
“So, brass thinks Eric is killing cops, but he’s not the author? I don’t get it.” Jen twisted her mouth and raised her eyebrows. “Really, any author is a suspect, right?”
“Right. And according to Casey a lot more people are writing books these days.” Nick finished his lunch and then pushed his chair back from the table. “This is a mess. We have nearly as many suspects as victims and none of them really fit the whole picture. It still could be a random crazy.”
Jen had become very quiet.
Nick touched her arm, “I know what you’re thinking.” Nick smiled, “I wouldn’t get too worried until you saw John with a girly strap briefcase.” Nick took another bite of his hamburger and winked.
Cusp of Crazy: Nick Stryker Series, Book One, Shallow End Gals Page 10
