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

by Vicki Graybosch

  Carl started working on his computer and Wayne stopped in the middle of the room to look at Nick’s board. Wayne smiled and said to Carl, “Hey, I’ve got you beat. I’m on the board twice! Once as a victim and once as a suspect. Makes me some kind of special.”

  Sam carried a cup of coffee and a clipboard into the room. Nick looked at him, “Could you explain to me how my flash drive ended up in your desk drawer?”

  Sam had been blowing his coffee to cool it and his face froze in that position for a moment. He then raised an eyebrow. “I have no idea. What were you doing in my desk?”

  Nick pointed to his board. “You’re a person of interest.”

  Nick left the room. Wayne roared with laughter. “I like that guy.”

  Nick had to kick the vending machine for his bottle of water to drop. Jen stepped out of the elevator and walked over. Nick opened his water and said, “We picked up another one last night. She looks like the lady on the cover of our book.” Nick took a gulp. Jen’s eyes started to tear. Nick touched her arm. “What’s wrong?”

  Jen shook her head and looked around. Nick said, “Let’s take this private.” That was their code to head to the ladies’ room. In police stations, there were far more men than women and a quick, private meeting could usually be had in any ladies’ room. They went in, it was empty and Nick asked, “What’s up?”

  Jen asked, “What time was this lady killed last night?”

  Nick answered, “About nine thirty.” He really didn’t like Jen’s expression.

  Jen leaned against the sink counter. “John was out walking. He didn’t get home until after eleven and then slept on the couch.” Jen searched Nick’s eyes.

  Nick’s mind swirled. “You’re freakin’ on me. It’s not John. Okay, the cabbie. The night we volunteered to work here. You called John to tell him you weren’t coming home, right? He can’t be in two places at the same time.”

  Jen wiped a tear. “I had to leave a message. He didn’t answer our land line.” Jen paced the small area in front of the sink. “You don’t think I’ve played this over and over in my head? He hasn’t worked for six months, Nick. I have no idea how he spends his time.” She snatched a paper towel from the stack on the counter and dabbed her eyes. “I read a chapter of his new book this morning. A woman is attacked and her throat is cut. His description is very realistic.”

  Nick put his arm on Jen’s shoulder. “I don’t have room on my board for any more names, so John is not guilty. You know it and I know it. He’s a good author, period. All that this points out is how easily an innocent person can look bad. That’s the nature of this case.”

  “You think I’m acting crazy?”

  Nick laughed, “Yeah. We’re all acting crazy.” Nick winked, “I sort of mixed things up in there a minute ago.”

  Jen relaxed and smiled. “What did you do?”

  “I put their names on the board as suspects.”

  Jen’s eyes opened wide. “Oh, goody.”

  Nick held the door open for Jen. There was a tenderness in his voice that instantly made Jen feel better. “It’s not John. Let’s solve this thing.”

  Nick prayed he was right.

  CHAPTER 16

  Tanner, Joyce and Shelly arrived at Casey’s apartment and stood waiting at her door. Tanner had already knocked twice. He nodded to Shelly to unlock the door with her key. They inched their way into the apartment. Joyce immediately saw Casey’s purse and coat on the chair and pointed. “I don’t like that.” Joyce and Shelly both turned to Tanner. Tanner glanced down the hall toward Casey’s bedroom.

  “Fine, I’ll go check.” Tanner slowly walked toward the bedroom. The apartment looked normal, nothing seemed disturbed. He got to the bedroom doorway and turned around. “She’s not here.”

  Shelly pushed past him. “She has to be. Her purse is here.” Shelly stood staring at the floor in Casey’s room. “Is Casey doing drugs?”

  Joyce moved further into the room. “Why would you ask that?”

  Shelly pointed to the floor that was covered in a white powder all around the bed and in front of the closet.

  Tanner bent down, wet his index finger and tasted the powder. “Flour.”

  Joyce slugged Shelly’s arm. “That would be enough cocaine for half of Chicago.” To no one in particular she said, “Why would there be flour around her bed?”

  Shelly started to sniffle, “I know! Footprints. She was so scared she was setting traps. Oh, my God. Look at all of the footprints! I can’t believe how insensitive I’ve been. I watched TV last night and Casey was spreading flour on her floor. I should have been here for her.”

  Tanner had a very bad feeling and motioned for them all to leave the room. He carefully stepped back away from the flour. “We have to figure out where she is. Does she use a common laundry room in the building maybe?”

  Joyce was already heading back toward the kitchen. She stopped and opened a large bi- fold door to expose a washer and dryer. “She has her own.”

  Shelly had pushed ahead to the chair where Casey’s purse and coat were. “Her coat, wallet and keys are here. Where would she go without her apartment key or money?”

  Tanner had been standing at the dinette table looking at Casey’s computer. He suddenly sat down heavily in the chair and moaned. “My God. Oh, my God.” He kept reading and then put his head in his hands. He looked up at Shelly and Joyce. He was terrified.

  Shelly and Joyce ran over and looked at Casey’s computer screen. Joyce started reading out loud:

  Note from the author: Chapter Three

  This chapter will be a collaborative effort, Casey. We shall find a way to resolve our differences through a manuscript. I am allowing you the power to choose the ending. A fitting forum considering this is where it all started.

  Author’s position:

  Authors invite readers to spend their pleasure hours peeking inside our minds. Readers of horror and suspense want to be taken to the deepest of dark places. They demand to mine the most secret of cavities at will for that thrill they have yet to experience. Piously grateful, at books end that these were not their thoughts; all the while knowing that they could have been.

  Reviewer’s position:

  An educated opinion of the author’s skill may be found useful by potential readers unable or unwilling to explore between the pages unguided. The fallacy of course is that it is one opinion. An opinion crowned with the sanctimonious finality of a grade.

  I think this chapter begins with you hoping I have gone away, forgiven you. Your life becomes quiet. That is what you want to happen. That is called fiction. We are writing true crime. Start again and read carefully.

  It is too quiet. The air is too still, the night is too black on the dark side of your window. You may see my breath against your glass. You may hear me cough behind you in a line. I won’t go away, but I will tell you who I am. I am everyone you see. Everyone you don’t see. Watching you, waiting. Don’t assume I am hampered by conscience or boundaries. When I decide to take you, you will suffer beyond description. I promise. Beyond anything you have ever read or imagined. Your loved ones will suffer equally. I promise. This would be my perfect ending.

  An optional ending to this chapter may be written by you. Unfortunately it is quite short. Kill yourself. Do it. Pick something painless, pathetic and weak. I suggest, that would fit your character. It is your ending to write. Our collaboration, you are the author now. Choose your ending. I am the reviewer. Do it. Soon. We have a deadline.

  Shelly had been clinging to the back of Tanner’s chair as Joyce read. She now openly sobbed, “Tanner. Maybe she did it. Maybe she killed herself to protect us.” Shelly was shaking so badly she was barely understandable. “I feel so scared. And guilty! Tanner, what if Casey kills herself to protect me after….”

  Tanner stood and held Shelly’s shoulders. “Casey knows. She’s known since it happened a year ago.”

  Shelly sat down. “She never said anything. She’s always been so nice.” Sh
elly couldn’t believe that Casey had known about her and Tanner all of this time. Tanner must have told her. Why? He really loved her was why. No wonder they had never been together again. He was proving to Casey that he could be trusted.

  Tanner looked at Joyce. “Find me that card for Detective Stryker in Casey’s purse, please.” Tanner turned to Shelly, “I don’t think Casey would kill herself. I think she’s hiding.”

  Tanner was scared to death. Joyce handed him Nick’s card. Tanner called Nick and told him what they had found at Casey’s apartment. Nick told them to wait outside of the apartment and he would be right there.

  Eric had seen Tanner, Joyce and Shelly go into Casey’s apartment. He made his way through the walls in order to watch them. As Joyce read the computer message out loud, Eric’s anger grew to a rage. Eric heard Tanner call Nick. Nick was coming! Eric ran through the dark passageway to Casey’s closet wall and secured the back of the wall tightly by sliding his bracing boards through the side mounted brackets. He ran to another long hall and attached a piece of ductwork to the false air return with duct tape. From the interior it should look functional. He removed all evidence of his cameras near Casey’s apartment.

  Eric entered his own apartment and waited for Nick to arrive. He was sure Nick would ask the building’s occupants if they had seen Casey. Eric wanted to appear normal, like everyone else. Joyce’s voice was stuck in his head repeating, “Kill yourself. Do it.” Every time Eric heard that in his head, his hatred for that man grew. He was an enemy. Eric knew where he lived.

  U.S. District Attorney David Fulton stared out his office window as he waited for the FBI to return his call. The idea that he had a cop killer in Chicago that was maybe a cop made him sick. The press was in enough frenzy from the string of murders in that district. So far, no one in the press had linked Chad’s murder to a mistaken identity of a cop. That would make three; Don, James and Wayne. That was enough to set the press on fire.

  Stryker had called Fulton to see if the FBI had any luck baiting the author with a proposed movie deal through his Amazon account. Fulton chuckled; he thought that had been a brilliant idea. Fulton told Nick he was waiting for an update from the FBI and would send him an email as soon as he knew more. Last report the author had not taken the bait.

  The city engineer also called Fulton to report that the maps retrieved from storage did not show any tunnels as far south as the building James had been in. Also, background checks of the building’s past tenants provided no explanation for the camera or secret wall. Fulton was slamming into brick walls at every turn in this case.

  The FBI had just emailed him that 19 people had been reported missing from that block since 2009. Apparently Chicago had its own Bermuda Triangle. Was it possible that someone in that neighborhood had been killing people since 2009? Fulton forwarded the email to Stryker.

  Fulton tapped his pen while he reread IA’s interview with Don. The interviewer was sure Don knew more than he had told IA. Why? Why go to IA and only give them part of the story? The only thing that made sense was that Don suspected a leak at IA. Don was afraid and apparently for good reason.

  The phone rang, it was the FBI. Fulton answered, “Do you have anything we can use?”

  The voice responded, “Not yet. He won’t answer Amazon’s account alert. It could be he hasn’t checked it.”

  “Keep me posted.” Fulton hung up and sighed. It was curious they were all calling this author ‘he’. Not even that had been determined for sure. Something had to break and soon.

  He looked at his phone. Another message alert on his Amazon account. Did they think he was stupid? He knew there wouldn’t be a movie inquiry out of the blue. They were trying to trap Rachel. Maybe if there had been super sales. Casey’s review ensured that wasn’t going to happen. Casey had killed any hopes of Rachel being a successful author. This was precisely why he had used a pen name. If there were going to be unforeseen issues, he didn’t want them tied to him. This next book though would be a blockbuster and the glory would be all his.

  He wondered what Casey was doing. Had she killed herself? He hoped not. He wanted that pleasure for himself. He looked at his watch. How much time should he give her? One day? Two? He felt tension growing in the back of his mind. He heard noises echo deep within the dark crevices. He needed to keep his mind busy or they would take over. They made mistakes. He couldn’t risk a mistake now. Perhaps he should begin more serious planning for Nick Stryker. He flipped a few pages in his notebook. There. Nick’s address was only a short distance away. He smiled as he turned his car around. No time like the present.

  Wayne waited for Carl to leave the squad room to sit across from Sam. “You sure you don’t know how that flash drive got in your desk?”

  Sam frowned. “You, too? Is everybody here going crazy? I have a box of new ones in my bottom drawer. Period. If you ask me, Carl never put it in your desk. Don did the same thing to me. Claimed he put a flash drive in my desk for you. We never did find it.”

  Wayne and Sam heard Nick curse from across the room. Nick grabbed his jacket, said something to Jen and ran out. Wayne yelled over to Jen, “Now what?”

  Jen answered, “Something’s happened to Casey. I’m going over there, you want to ride along?”

  Wayne shrugged, “Thanks anyway. I’m trying to get some background on our lady from last night.” It was bad enough that Nick had put all of their names on the board as suspects. The last thing he wanted to do was horn in on Nick’s investigation.

  The 107th Chief walked in the room dangling car keys. He walked up to Wayne, “Where are your keys?”

  Wayne asked, “To my personal car?”

  “Yep.”

  “In my coat pocket, why?”

  “Stryker wants you guys to voluntarily let CSU go over your personal cars for evidence. Here’s a loaner.”

  Wayne got up and got his keys from his jacket pocket. The Chief pointed at Sam. “You too. Where’s Carl?”

  Wayne knew the department had no legal grounds to ask for their cars, but the first one of them that didn’t cooperate would be in a world of hurt. Wayne said, “My car needs a detail cleaning anyway. Do you want me to have Carl bring his car in?”

  The Chief smiled, “Yes. Tell him I appreciate his cooperation.”

  Wayne walked back to Sam’s desk after the Chief left. “Stryker is a piece of work isn’t he? It takes some heavy lifting to get CSU to do this right now. I say the District Attorney’s office is in this.”

  Sam looked annoyed. “Whatever. Can’t wait to hear what Carl says.” Sam started to chuckle.

  Wayne called Carl and gave him the Chief’s message.

  Wayne hung up and looked at Sam. “Had to leave a message. His phone is off.”

  Sam yelled over to Jen, “Wait up. I’ll go with you to Casey’s.”

  Nick pulled up in front of Casey’s building. He had called for a couple of patrol units to start canvassing the building’s tenants and neighbors. Four patrol units were stationed in front with their lights flashing. Nick saw Tanner, Joyce and Shelly talking to an officer at the top of the stairs.

  Nick walked up to join them, “We can step inside where it’s warmer if you like.” Shelly and Joyce nodded emphatically and the patrol officer handed Nick his notes. “No one has entered the apartment, Detective Stryker. We stationed an officer at the door for you.”

  Nick said thanks and then held the door for the group to walk in the building. Once inside Nick had Tanner repeat their exact movements since they had arrived at Casey’s. Nick asked Tanner, “So, the last time any of you spoke with Casey was about four o’clock yesterday afternoon?” Tanner answered yes. Nick looked at his watch, it was now almost eleven. It had been nineteen hours.

  Nick asked Tanner, “Where were you last night about nine thirty?”

  Tanner answered, “Home sleeping.”

  Nick asked, “Alone?”

  Tanner dropped his head to one side. “Yes, alone. What happened last night at nine thirty?
”

  Nick didn’t answer. “Tanner, did your insurance policy go into effect yet?”

  Tanner was surprised Nick knew about that. Casey must have told him. He answered, “I can give you my insurance agent’s number. We told him about this crazy woman and he said the company wouldn’t issue a policy until she was caught.” Tanner was angry that Nick had brought this up in front of Joyce and Shelly. Nick took down the agent’s name and number. He told them to wait in the hall in case he had questions after looking in Casey’s apartment.

  When Nick was out of earshot, Shelly asked Tanner, “What insurance policy?” Tanner reluctantly told them about the two million dollar Key Man policy he had applied for.

  Joyce shook her head, “You are all about timing, aren’t you?”

  Tanner knew she meant that after the fact, he had realized he cheated on Casey with Shelly on Casey’s birthday.

  Jen and Sam arrived at the apartment building. Jen opened Casey’s apartment door and yelled for Nick. “You here, pretty boy?”

  Nick answered, “Waitin’ on you, doll face.” Everything was okay. Sam chuckled as if he had just witnessed an intimate moment. Jen let it slide by.

  Nick finished reading the message on Casey’s computer and pointed to it for Jen and Sam.

  Nick said, “This is one sick dude.”

  Nick walked back to look at the flour Tanner had said was on Casey’s bedroom floor. Jen followed him when she finished reading. Jen stood looking at Casey’s bed. “You see the hammer on the pillow?”

  “Yeah. What do you make of these tracks in the flour?” Nick had crouched down and had his flashlight scanning over the area in front of the closet.

  Jen frowned, “Looks like partials of both very small and very large shoe prints. Large prints on top of small ones.”

  Nick stood, “They seem to be concentrated around the closet.” Nick pulled the clothes to the side and ran his flashlight around the back wall of the closet. He pushed against the wall. It was solid. He noticed two pieces of luggage on the closet floor. Sam had joined them and stood listening.