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

by Vicki Graybosch

  Jen had a deadpan stare. “He has one.”

  Eli and Peter had checked every box but two in the cities long term records storage basement. The last two boxes were handed down from the ladder by Eli to Peter. Eli started to climb down the ladder. “That last box just says miscellaneous addresses. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

  Peter resumed his seat on a piece of cardboard on the concrete floor. “What if it’s not here?”

  Eli shrugged, “Then it might be mixed up in a whole wrong area. We might never find them.” They each removed the lids from a box and began checking the surveyor dates. Eli yelped, “By golly, we have one!”

  Peter pushed his box aside and leaned over to look. “Man, those look ancient.”

  “They date back to 1931, the beginning stage of the great Westside Works. It took until 1947 to complete that project. At that time, Chicago had the most sophisticated water-sewer system for a large city in the world.” Eli beamed, “I’m not just a pretty face, I know this stuff. That whole system got replaced beginning 1972 and went operational 1985. All these old tunnels were walled off for the most part.”

  Eli started to replace the lid on the other box and noticed the addresses. It was the block that Momma’s Sandwich Shop was on. He took that roll out and added it to the ones he found for Nick. Maybe he and Mitch could look it over.

  Eli walked quickly from the storage room, dialing Nick as he went. His boss had told him he could go home as soon as he found the prints. Eli told Nick he would drop off the drawings at the precinct. He looked at his watch. By the time he dropped off the drawings it would be his normal quitting time. Figures.

  Casey glanced at her watch, it was four thirty. She could hardly keep her eyes open. She sent an instant message to Tanner that she was going to go home to take a nap. Tanner messaged back, “Do you want me to come babysit?”

  Casey answered, “No. Thanks, anyway.” Tanner attached a list of the codes that Casey would need to get back in the office in the morning. She glanced at the small couch at the far end of her office. If she got spooked at home, she could always come back and sleep here.

  The November chill cut right through her as she waited for a cab. The wind was a constant push against her left side. Why in the world did she live in Chicago? An orange cab turned the corner and pulled to the curb for her. She gave her address to the driver, put her head back and rested her eyes as they pulled into traffic.

  “Lady! We’re here!” The cab driver had been screaming at her. It took her a minute to figure out where she was. Who was this man yelling at her? Her mind caught up with the moment and she dug in her purse for cab fare. Climbing up the front steps felt as if she was climbing Mount Everest in the frigid winter. It was time to get out her winter coat. She hated that coat.

  Casey dropped her purse and coat on a chair, double checked that her door was locked, and walked through her apartment slowly checking that every minor detail was in place. She went to the bathroom and then collapsed on her bed. Her last thought had been, thank God, my flour is okay.

  He raced toward Casey’s apartment cursing traffic. The time had gotten away from him when he was writing. He wanted to leave Casey a message on her laptop to greet her when she got home. She never left work before five, fifteen minutes to cab home, he might just make it. He heard pacing and heavy breathing in the back of his mind. Stop it! He was in control today. His monsters had to be punished for their mistake last night.

  He slipped into Casey’s apartment and began typing. It was important he leave her his instructions for Chapter Three. They would collaborate. She could be an author. She could make the most important choice. She could feel the power of words.

  Casey woke suddenly. Had someone whispered her name? She sat up on her bed and listened. She thought she heard papers shuffle. She silently slid off from her bed and froze. Her nose picked up the faint scent of aftershave. From across her apartment, she heard a man grunt. Casey’s mind filled with panic, then shifted instantly to survival mode. She had to hide. Where? She had to be absolutely silent. If she could hear him, he could hear her.

  Her hands were trembling, her heart pounding. She carefully lifted her bedside table, her lamp wobbled and she held her breath. She waited a minute for it to stabilize and moved the table silently away from her closet door. Another male grunt. A throaty male chuckle. She felt faint, but willed herself to stay alert. She slowly turned the knob on her closet door, winced when it clicked and slipped inside. Her heart pounded. Had he heard her? Her whole body shook as she inched herself behind her hanging clothes to cling to the back wall of the closet. She was afraid to breathe. A blast of cold air assaulted her from behind. A huge hand tightly encased her mouth. A giant arm wrapped around her and lifted her backwards. She was being swept into a black cavity. Was this a dream?

  Hot breath hissed in her ear. “I’m not going to hurt you. Be quiet. I have to show you something.”

  Casey’s jaw felt as if it was going to break. The strength of this monster was super human. Casey was a ragdoll in his arms. His arm crushed her chest as he quickly pulled her further and farther down the narrow, dark crevice. Her feet only briefly felt the floor of the cavity. He suddenly stopped and hissed again, “Be quiet. Look.” A large hand appeared in front of her eyes and pulled a piece of brick from the wall. Casey focused on the scene beyond the opening. It was her living room. There was a man sitting at her table, typing on her computer. The hand replaced the brick piece and began dragging her back the way they had come. The voice kept repeating, “I’m saving you.”

  It all felt so real. Casey was sure this had to be a nightmare. The huge hand pushed on another section of wall. It opened into another endless, dark hall. Where was he taking her? Who was he? Suddenly they stopped. Eric’s face was in front of her. His eyes looked crazed. His hand was still crushing her jaw. “I’m going to hide you. You’ll be okay.” Her heart sunk. This wasn’t a dream and she wasn’t going to be okay.

  CHAPTER 12

  Thursday 5:00 p.m.

  Mitch was so tired, he was ready to drop. The five o’clock rush would start any minute with people wanting to pick up a quick sandwich after working all day. Everyone knew Thursdays were meatball sub day. He only had to make it two more hours.

  Momma came through the kitchen door carrying another big cooker of meatballs. “You best grab this quick. I think I overfilled it.” Mitch took it from her hands and nearly dropped it. His Momma’s strength never ceased to amaze him.

  “I don’t know how you do this, Momma.”

  She grinned at him as their first rush of five o’clock people came in the door. “You do orders and cash. I’ll start fillin’ these buns and poppin’ ’em in the toaster oven.”

  Eli walked in and stood behind the last customer. He was holding a long cylinder document tube and looked like he was dead on his feet. When it was finally his turn, he said, “Give me two meatball subs.” Eli held up the long cardboard tube, “This here is a fun project we’re going to do after I get some sleep. Maybe tomorrow night?”

  Momma was listening. “What kind of fun project?”

  “I’ve got the city drawings of the old tunnels under this block. Thought we could study ’em.”

  Momma got a big smile, “Study ’em? I think I best dig up my duck huntin’ waders and we do a little Indiana Jones!”

  Mitch rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Eli. Can’t wait.”

  Jen was at the precinct waiting for Nick. Casey had given Nick a copy of the book by Rachel Sarrin that her company had reviewed. Based on what the Chiefs had told Nick, there were connections in Sarrin’s books that tied to actual crimes investigated by the 107th. Nick wanted to know which ones. Jen was going to mark the pages for him. Nick was bringing Eric in for questioning. He wanted Jen to locate the flash drive from the liquor store and watch it.

  Carl walked in the squad room as Jen reached Wayne by phone. “Wayne? Jen Taylor. Nick had a flash drive dropped off that was put in your desk. Do you have it?”
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br />   Wayne answered, “I don’t have anything of Nick’s. Who says I do?”

  Jen glanced over to Carl. “Carl says he put it in your middle desk drawer, but we can’t find it. It would have been yesterday morning.”

  “I’m heading in now, but I don’t remember any flash drive. What was on it?”

  “It has the camera footage from the liquor store, across from the cabbie killing.”

  “You better get another copy quick. Those things write over themselves in a timed loop every 48 hours or so. Some quicker.”

  Jen said thanks and dialed Nick. Carl was listening as he stood near his murder board.

  Nick answered, “How you doing, doll face?”

  “Just fine, super man.” Jen purposefully answered wrong.

  “You have a problem?”

  “I need a copy of that flash drive from the liquor store fast. Ours is in the wind, and Wayne says most of these cameras are set to write over footage every 48 hours or sooner.”

  “So, either Wayne is lying about not having it, or Carl is lying about putting it in the desk.”

  “Right. Wayne is on his way back here now.”

  “So, Carl is listening to you.”

  “Right.”

  “I’ll take care of the camera first and get Eric next. Thanks.”

  Jen stood up and walked over to their murder board and added Rachel Sarrin’s name under the Casey list.

  Carl asked, “Who’s Rachael Sarrin?”

  “Pen name of an author harassing Casey.” Jen twirled the marker in her hand as she studied the board. Jen studied Carl’s board. He had the city man killed, the guy in the park, Don and the cabbie listed along the top. A short list of names were under each.

  Carl said, “You guys are going to find out the cabby and Don don’t belong on your board.” Carl tapped his board with his marker. “A random crazy did all four of these. Maybe your Chad, too.”

  Jen mumbled, “You might be right. Nick’s bringing Eric in for questioning. We have a direct link from him to James.”

  Carl kept looking at Jen’s board. “If I’m right, and you take Don, Chad, and the cabbie off your board, all you have is James. You could be done.”

  Jen nodded, “Nick says Eric can ID the last fare of the cabbie. I think that keeps him up here.”

  Carl’s eyes narrowed. “How could this Eric ID the cabbie’s last fare?”

  “He was there. You might want to hang around and ask him some questions yourself. They should be here fairly soon.”

  Carl laid his marker down and checked his watch. “Can’t do it. I’ll check with Stryker later.”

  Carl walked back to his desk, shut down his computer and left. He returned a minute later and grabbed his briefcase from the hook. Jen’s intuition told her that Carl was upset about something she had said. She wished she could tell what it was. Maybe he just didn’t like the fact that he and Nick were working the same cases.

  Sam walked over, grabbed the last muffin from the morning and said, “You’re missing another connection. Maybe.”

  Jen asked, “What’s that?”

  “Wayne is the one that found Don’s body. It’s all in the report.” Sam walked back to his desk and started flipping through his files.

  Jen’s head was spinning. Everybody was linked to everybody and it still could be a random crazy. A random crazy killing cops from the 107th. What had she and Nick stepped into? Jen pulled up the report on Don’s murder and began reading.

  Nick was relieved to see Jack behind the counter. “Hey, Jack. I have a problem. That flash drive you made for me has disappeared. I need another copy. Does your system have an automatic loop to write over previous footage?”

  “Sure does.”

  Nick’s heart sank. “How frequent does it loop?”

  “I think it is set for every 48 hours.”

  Nick checked his watch, it was between 48 and 72 hours ago that he needed. “Can we check the loop start time?”

  Jack called his helper to watch the cash register and directed Nick to his back room. After an agonizing ten minutes he finally found the program for his camera. It had been set to loop every 60 hours. The footage he needed should be near the beginning of the current loop. They had five minutes before a new loop was to start.

  Nick said, “Jack, let me do this. We only have five minutes.”

  Jack scrambled out of his chair and Nick replaced him. He put the flash drive in the computer, found the program to copy, selected it and hit copy. The curser circled for a full two minutes. Nick was afraid he had locked up the browser when a pop up appeared. File Copied.

  Nick checked the flash drive contents and saw the date he had selected was correct and on the flash drive. He removed the flash drive and took a deep breath.

  Jack said, “Good thing you didn’t stop for a donut somewhere.”

  He and Nick laughed. Nick said, “Sorry for drama, Jack. This is important. We won’t lose this one.”

  Nick sat in his car acutely aware he had come within minutes of losing the only evidence he had on the cab driver’s killer. Flash drives don’t disappear. Someone with access to the squad room had the first copy.

  Eric had practically carried Casey through what seemed like miles of hallways. They finally arrived at a wall that opened into a large L-shaped room. There was a strong smell of pine cleaner and a steady crackling sound from around the corner. Eric still had his hand tightly over Casey’s mouth. He closed the wall behind them and walked Casey into a small iron barred cell.

  He pointed to a cot against the bars. “That is clean and comfortable. Please sit down and rest. That is a clean camping toilet in the corner.”

  Eric left the small area, shut the barred door and locked it. The key to the lock hung on a hook on the opposite side of the room. There was no way Casey could reach it.

  Eric talked as he walked around the room. “You have to understand. I’m saving you.” Eric checked his computer, rubbed his hands over his head and said, “I need a tactical plan. I have to wait for my orders.” He turned to face Casey and smiled. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He walked back to her cell. His huge hands gripped the bars like a prisoner. “Are you comfortable?”

  Casey nodded. She needed to hear more from Eric to understand what kind of crazy he was.

  “I saved you from grave danger. I couldn’t watch that man go into your apartment and not save you. He’s the man that left that book in your mailbox. I saw the police take it. I heard you crying. Stryker thinks he killed a cab driver. He told me. I have protected you since you moved in here.” Eric’s expression became very serious. “I have never violated your privacy. You have no worries about that. I respect a woman’s privacy.”

  Casey’s mind screamed, “You friggin’ lunatic! You have peek holes in my apartment and secret halls in the walls. You just kidnapped me!” Her voice stayed silent, she tried to calm herself. Maybe she could talk Eric into letting her go.

  Eric sat on a stool facing Casey’s cell. He half smiled. “This man won’t hurt you anymore. I’ve dealt with scum like him before. I’ll get him.”

  Casey thought Eric looked very confident and very scary when he made that last statement. She swallowed.

  Casey’s voice was quiet and steady. “What do you mean, you’ve dealt with scum like him before?”

  Eric leaned forward. “You remember Evan in apartment 203? Bastard that beat on his wife?”

  Casey answered, “He finally left her.” Eric’s face erupted into a creepy smile. Casey asked, “Didn’t he?”

  Eric put his hand up to his ear to mimic listening. “Hear them? That is my army, my beetles.” Eric whispered, “Flesh eating beetles.” With that statement Eric stood to leave.

  Casey swore the beetle sound had gotten louder. She felt faint. “You fed him to beetles?”

  Eric spun around and raised his voice. “Don’t say things like that. You don’t know that! Who told you that? Don’t ask questions. I don’t like questions.”

  Er
ic pushed a button above a steel track and a section of wall slid to the side. He looked back. “This room is soundproof. No point in screaming. You are safe here. Hey, you like pork chops? I’ll bring you some pork chops. I fixed them last night for mother. We have plenty left.” He smiled, left, and the wall slid closed again.

  Casey rubbed her jaw. It was tender. She was sure it was bruised badly, it was beginning to swell. What was she going to do? The man in her apartment was probably Rachel Sarrin. Whatever he was typing would be found when people realized she was missing. They would assume that he had taken her.

  Casey listened to the crackling sound from around the corner. Maybe Eric just thought he had flesh eating beetles? Her whole body shuddered. Then she saw it. A large machine with a mechanical lift arm and a body harness stood against the far wall. That was not a good thing, whatever it was.

  Did Eric ask if she liked pork chops?

  CHAPTER 13

  Thursday 6:00 pm

  The five story office building housed some of the most important yet obscure offices of the Federal government. Lacey had already achieved the status of a senior financial analyst for the Securities and Regulations Board. She had fearlessly faced down influential defendants and their lawyers for over five years. Today she was afraid.

  Lacey had parked where her car would be in view of her office window on purpose. Nick had phoned this morning and told her that he had served the protection order to Gary. She was worried how Gary would react. There was something very wrong with him. She had seen it early in her one date with him. Making excuses to avoid a scene, Lacey had simply told him she wasn’t interested in a second date. Gary went ballistic, insisting she was being difficult for no reason. He declared that they were meant to be together, forever. In hindsight, she cursed herself for caving in to his relentless, charming invitations for a simple date. She had wanted to prove to herself that she could move on from her relationship with Nick.