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

by Vicki Graybosch

  He couldn’t think of anything but Casey. By now she had read Chapter Three on her computer. His mind danced with visions of what she might be doing. He wished he could call her, listen to the panic in her voice. His monsters were anxious, too. They were thrusting themselves against the bars of their cages. He sensed they were close to escaping. If they were careful to protect him, it may be fun to let them out. He was curious who they would target. His eyes involuntarily closed for a moment. There was an odd silence in his mind. They had left.

  He grabbed his coat and briefcase, and headed for his car. He wiped drool from the corners of his mouth as he nearly ran across the parking lot. Yes! He needed this diversion while he waited on Casey. His car seemed to know where to find them. He instinctively knew to sit in the dark with his motor running and wait. He turned his heat on full blast and felt the sweat bead on his forehead. Yes, it’s almost time, they are hunting. There it was….that spine jerking twinge of nerves. His treat had been chosen.

  She saw the shadow of a man behind her long before she heard footsteps. Her bag of groceries rustled as she clutched it tighter to her chest. That stupid car broke down a block from home. Of course it was the darkest, coldest night in memory and now this? She turned the corner and quickened her pace. She could see the steps to her building under the yellow glow of the street light. Her fingers searched the bottom of her purse for her keys. She found them. Her apartment key held in front of her, she willed it to propel her home faster.

  The fallen leaves on the sidewalk crunched beneath her weight and she cursed them for masking the other sounds of the night. She quickly glanced behind her. She couldn’t see anything, but she sensed a danger. Her heart quickened. The leaves at her feet swirled from an unexpected gust. An unseen force yanked her hair back and an icy pain seared across her throat. Leaves dropped in slow motion from the tree canopy above her. A faint whistle sounded in her ears. Like steam escaping a teapot blocks away. She was lying on the sidewalk. Why? Who was laughing? The whistling stopped.

  Nick had dropped Eric off at the apartment building and considered checking in on Casey. He looked at his watch. It was late. Last night had been an ordeal and her lights were all off.

  Nick dialed Lacey. “Hey, beautiful, how was your day?” He certainly hadn’t expected Lacey’s answer. He listened with pride as Lacey told him about her encounter with Gary earlier that evening. He pictured her sitting on Gary’s back as she dialed the police. Nick chuckled at Lacey’s recall of her adventure, but he caught himself clenching his fists. His patience would be tested the next time he saw Gary. This little encounter could easily have had a different ending.

  Lacey said, “I was going to call and tell you all of this, but I figured you were busy. Are you done working now?”

  “Yeah. It’s been a long day. I didn’t know if I was supposed to go home or come to your place.”

  Lacey laughed, “You’re so sweet. I don’t expect you here. You have your own apartment. You need rest and your own things. I’m going to have a beauty night.”

  “What’s a beauty night?”

  “You know, where I do all my girly stuff, so I feel pretty.”

  Nick laughed, “Not needed, you’re a natural.”

  They talked a while longer. Nick called the jail to make sure Gary had been arrested. Nick was halfway home when his cell rang. Caller ID displayed the name Dunfee.

  “Yeah, Wayne. What’s up?”

  “I’m not calling, because I need you here, but we have another one.”

  Nick checked traffic around him and asked, “Where are you?”

  Wayne gave him the address and leaned against his car to wait. Nick arrived about ten minutes later. The coroner was examining the body. Wayne pointed, “I’ve seen her before.”

  Nick asked, “Where?”

  Wayne pointed across the street. “That green bungalow is my house, so I might have just seen her in the neighborhood. Don’t know. Her car is down the block, out of gas. Sounds to me she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. No cameras we can check. No witnesses. Patrol found her. Groceries are still cold and the receipt is time stamped thirty minutes ago. This just happened.” Wayne rubbed the corner of his eye with his index finger. “Throat sliced.”

  Nick glanced back to the young woman who had nearly been decapitated. “Is she a cop?”

  “No.”

  The CSU team arrived and scanned the area for evidence.

  Nick looked at Wayne, “This is a woman and not a cop. Are we back to random crazy?”

  Wayne shrugged. “There goes the neighborhood.”

  Nick walked over to study the woman. A single leaf floated down to rest on her face. Nick lifted the leaf from her. “She looks like the picture on our book cover.”

  Casey startled at the sound of the wall moving. Oh, God, Eric was back. She worried what kind of mood he was in. She squinted to see his face in the dimly lit room. He had some sort of cloth on his arm and he was carrying a small folding table.

  Eric glanced her way and said, “Oh, good. You’re awake. The police had me.”

  Casey wanted to ask why the police had him, but was afraid to ask. He had said before he didn’t like questions. Eric leaned the small table against the wall and went back to the hallway. He returned with a covered tray. He told her to move to the corner and face the wall. Casey had seen a horror movie where the creep used a tray full of tools to torture some poor woman. She walked to the corner and began to cry. Her body was shaking. Suddenly Eric’s hand rested on her shoulder.

  “You cry a lot. I’m not going to hurt you, Casey. Turn around.”

  Casey turned around and the small table now had a tablecloth and a tray of food neatly arranged. There were two pork chops, already cut into bite size pieces, a small dish of applesauce and a baked potato. Casey looked up and saw that Eric was beaming with pride.

  “Eat! I’m a good cook. This is the exact thing I fixed for mother tonight.” Eric suddenly got a surprised look on his face. “I almost forgot. He pulled a small vase from his jacket pocket and an artificial rose from his shirt pocket. He placed them on the tray, backed up, and relocked the door.

  “There. Now it’s ready.”

  Casey saw a fork, spoon and napkin next to the plate. She was starving and it smelled delicious. Casey looked at Eric, “Eric, I don’t understand you. This is such a nice dinner you have prepared, yet you are holding me prisoner. Why won’t you let me go to my apartment?”

  Eric looked annoyed. “You don’t understand, because you are civilian. You can go home once the territory is secured. I’ll be back later for your dishes.” Eric paused, “Do you want me to get you some of your things? Fresh clothes?”

  Casey’s mind was spinning. This isn’t a sleepover! Eric pawing through her underwear drawer wasn’t her idea of helpful. On the other hand, if he goes in her apartment, he might get caught, or leave some trace he had been there. The police could use that.

  “I have a small suitcase in my closet you could put some things in. Maybe some underwear and a fresh outfit? My toothbrush is in the bathroom.” She wanted him to walk through her flour.

  Eric nodded and left. Casey put a piece of pork chop in her mouth and slowly chewed. It was delicious. Eric might be bat crazy, but he can cook. She sampled the baked potato and the applesauce and then jabbed another piece of pork chop into her mouth. She couldn’t help adding up the carbs in her head. She shrugged and decided if this was her last supper, she wanted carbs. She nearly choked when suddenly Eric came back into the room through the wall.

  “Sorry, I forgot the bag of dead rats. They have to go in the dumpster.” He grabbed the large, black garbage bag that had been resting next to his desk, waved to her and left the room again.

  Casey put her fork down and gagged.

  CHAPTER 15

  Friday 8:00 am

  Tanner arrived at work early. He had forgotten about the alarm system and accidentally triggered it. It took a very long three minutes of ear shattering sirens
before he found the right code to disarm the system. Then he had to call the alarm company and police to let them know everything was okay. The other business occupants of the building thought it was a fire alarm. Tanner had to go outside to assure everyone it was safe to return. This was going to take some getting used to. He had just spent ten grand on an alarm system he couldn’t operate.

  Joyce arrived, stuck her head in his door and asked, “Peaceful night? Nobody called me.”

  Tanner smiled, “Pretty quiet for me too. I have discovered that I prefer my life in a rut.”

  Joyce laughed and went across the hall to her desk. Twenty minutes later Tanner heard Shelly arguing with Joyce. His curiosity was too strong to ignore a good office brawl.

  Shelly was standing next to Joyce’s desk; her voice pitched at least an octave too high. “I don’t care what you think. I’m telling you I couldn’t sleep a wink after that.”

  Tanner asked, “After what?”

  Joyce answered for Shelly. “She had a dream that Casey was in danger. That she had been kidnapped.”

  Shelly looked at Tanner, “I know it sounds crazy, but it was so real! Like Casey was sending me messages or something. Have you talked to her?”

  Tanner shook his head. “Not since she left yesterday.” He looked at his watch. Casey was a little late. Joyce picked up her phone and dialed. Tanner and Shelly watched as Joyce held up a new finger with each unanswered ring. Finally Joyce spoke, “Casey, we are worried about you. Call the office.” Joyce hung up.

  Tanner tried to remain calm. It wasn’t working. Joyce and Shelly were staring at him, expecting him to have a plan. He finally said, “She might have overslept and she’s in the shower or something. Let’s call her back in twenty minutes.”

  Shelly grabbed her purse, “You do what you want. I have a key to her apartment and I’m going over there.”

  Joyce grabbed her purse, “Me, too.”

  Tanner exhaled. “Okay, wait a minute. Let me get my car keys.”

  Jen was already late for her shift, but she had to know what was going on. John got home late last night and slept on the couch. He said he didn’t feel good. Now this morning when she got up he was gone. No note or anything. She had just finished reading the chapter he was working on in his book. It was unsettling to say the least. In his book a woman just had her throat cut.

  Jen heard a noise at the door lock. She turned to see John walk in, sit a grocery bag on the counter and smile. “Oh, hey. I thought you’d be gone by now.” John frowned, “You’re reading my book? It’s not ready to be read yet.”

  Jen walked over to him, “I’m sorry. It did feel a little like I was reading your diary or something.”

  John kissed her cheek and shrugged. “I don’t want you to judge me by a first draft. But since you’ve already peeked, what do you think?”

  Jen tilted her head, “It reads very real. Your description of the body is uncanny.” Jen swallowed, “A victim that gets her throat cut is rather timely, disturbing.”

  John chuckled as he put the groceries away. “Yeah, I have to admit that I use some of your real life stories. They’re just so darn good!” He smiled, “Keep ’em comin’.”

  Jen blurted, “John, where were you last night?”

  John answered, “I was out walking. Trying to get some ideas. Why?”

  “I was worried is all. It was so late and you didn’t say much.”

  “I do this all the time, you don’t normally notice, or you’re not here. You worry too much.”

  Jen watched him walk over to his computer with a fistful of red licorice. He waved the licorice in the air and said, “I’m heading back into murder land.”

  Jen mumbled, “Me, too,” and left for the 107th.

  Mitch had to reach clear to the back of the lowest shelf of the counter for a stack of menus. He made a mental note to print more. People liked to take them to work or keep them in their car. He grabbed a rag from his pocket and decided to wipe back there while he was already down.

  Eli walked in and yelled, “Mitch!”

  Mitch jerked and hit his head on the underside of the counter. He yelled back, “What are you yelling for?” Mitch stood, rubbed the back of his head and frowned.

  “I didn’t see you, thought you were in the back.” Eli was waving the long document tube he had last night. “I’m taking a couple of hours vacation today, so I can get out early. There is a tunnel stopping right here at Momma’s basement. I’ll bring tools and start busting out the bricks. We can go explorin’ when you close up.”

  Mitch had been slowly shaking his head as he listened to Eli. “There’s no way I’m lettin’ you bust out our basement wall. Are you crazy?”

  Momma walked in holding her duck waders up for Eli to see. “He’s not only bustin’ it out, but I’m goin’ to help!”

  Mitch frowned at Eli. “See what you’ve done? You’ve got Momma all fired up! What if turns out like Geraldo? Huh? You consider that?”

  Eli chuckled, “These maps don’t lie. The tunnel ends right here. It’s a metal door covered by one, maybe two layers of brick. Worse case, I’ll have to patch the wall.”

  Momma dropped her waders and walked over to talk to Eli. “I’m thinkin’ I should pack us some sandwiches. I already got Mitch’s scout backpack filled with flash lights, chalk, lighters, and bug spray.”

  Mitch looked at Momma, “My Boy Scout backpack? That thing is twenty years old! Sandwiches? How long you plannin’ we be gone?” Mitch added, “Why chalk?”

  Momma looked at Eli. “And he was a Boy Scout. So we mark our way, Mitch. Case it gets all tangled and creepy.”

  Mitch shuddered, he hadn’t thought about that.

  Momma chuckled as she walked away, “That’s why it’s called an adventure. You don’t know what you’re gettin’ into.”

  Mitch glared at Eli, “What else does this map of yours say is down there?”

  “Miles and miles of vacated tunnels. I assume people have been lookin’ to get into them for decades. I suppose all kinds of people and animals have opened at least parts of ’em. We’ve got an original map.”

  Mitch mumbled, “Aren’t we the lucky ones?”

  Nick had arrived at the squad room early. He reviewed the camera footage from the cabbie’s murder again. There was something about the gait of the man leaving the cab that Nick found familiar. Nick guessed the killer had a bad knee. The downpour of rain made it impossible to get any useful pictures. Nick stood in the middle of the squad room, his mind replaying the last two days.

  Getting the answers he needed was not going to win him any popularity contest. He did a series of searches on each computer in the squad room. He wasn’t surprised they didn’t turn up anything. His gut told him that the Chiefs were right. Someone close to a 107th cop or a 107th cop had to be involved. More than likely this person was too smart to be careless, but it was worth a shot.

  He also did a quick search of desk drawers. Bingo. Nick’s missing flash drive was in Sam’s desk. Carl had a page from Writers Digest laminated. The main article was a story about Carl with author Walter Peterson on a crime novel in 2009. The book was a best seller and Carl had been given special credit for his contributions. Wayne’s desk was a trash bin of old and new reports clipped to strange lists of doodles. A large number of the reports had actually been files of Don’s. Nick flipped through the reports. He didn’t notice anything unusual other than a couple of places where a name had been circled. Nick wrote down the names and discovered they were the men arrested for prior murder cases. Don’s old desk was completely empty.

  Nick studied Carl’s murder board. Carl was definitely assuming a random crazy. There was an interesting correlation of addresses that Carl had linked. The doer’s victim area was a ten block square. Nick realized that the woman murdered last night lived squarely in the center. So did Wayne.

  Nick erased his entire board to start over. He wrote Rachel Sarrin in large letters on the top and drew a line under it. Then he started writ
ing names under Rachel. Casey- not dead yet / Don- dead -received manuscript / cabbie – mystery fare pickup at Casey’s/ Tanner – attempted murder.

  Nick started another list titled: Cops. The first name he listed was Don-murdered / James- probably murdered/ Wayne (maybe target)

  Nick’s third list was titled: Random. Under that he wrote: old case files random /city guy/ park guy/ Elaine Turner- new lady / Chad?

  Nick made another list titled: Persons of Interest. Under that he wrote Tanner/ Joyce/ Shelly/ Casey/ Eli/ Mitch/ Sam/ Carl/ Wayne/ Jessie/ Eric.

  Nick wrote down the addresses for his lists. They were all in the same ten block area as Carl’s board. Nick spoke out loud, “So we have two things in common; geography and throats.”

  Nick stopped writing. He had run out of room. Carl walked into the squad room and laughed. “Looks like a damn Chicago phone book!” He walked over for a closer look and his unibrow twitched. “I’m a person of interest?”

  Nick smiled, “One of my favorites. Why didn’t you tell me that you’re an author?”

  Carl was surprised by the question. “I’m not. I helped an author a few years back. Who told you that?” Nick noted Carl’s blink rate increased.

  “I searched your desk.”

  “You went through my desk?”

  “Yes. I went through every desk and computer in the squad. Do you make much money from royalties?”

  “That’s my business! What’s your problem today?”

  Nick thought Carl’s anger was disproportionate with Nick’s violation of his privacy. He pushed more. “Do you even fill out daily reports? I didn’t see any on your computer. How do people verify your time?”

  Carl had turned and walked to his desk. He sat, rested his forearms on the desk top and glared at Nick. “We don’t work that way over here. Maybe it’s time you go back home.”

  Wayne had walked in and heard Carl’s last statement to Nick. Carl barked to Wayne, “Look out! Hot shot here woke up cocky this morning.”