“Sam, can you go ask Casey’s friends if they know if Casey had a two piece or three piece set? Overnight bag might be missing.”
Sam left to go speak to Tanner and the girls. Nick walked into the bathroom. There was no toothbrush. It looked like Casey had gone into hiding. But where?
Sam came back. “Shelly says she gave Casey a three piece set for Christmas that included an overnight bag.”
“Toothbrush is gone.”
Jen opened the top drawer of the dresser. “The girl is meticulous about sorting underwear. Middle stack is messed up.” Jen leaned down and opened the next larger drawer. “Same thing here where she has some tops and casual pants. All tidy except the center stacks. She was in a hurry.”
Sam offered, “Or someone else packed her bag.” Jen nodded.
Nick’s phone rang. He had just received a signal for a new email from the U.S. District Attorney’s office. He swiped his screen a couple of times and said, “Listen to this: the FBI reports that 19 people have been reported missing from this block since 2009.”
Jen raised her eyebrows, “Isn’t that when Eric came home?”
“Yeah.” Nick leaned against the door frame of the bedroom. “I think that message on Casey’s computer reads like our author is giving her some time to kill herself. How much time do you suppose we have?” Jen shrugged.
Nick read another email from his phone. “The FBI says our author won’t take the movie bait. It was a long shot.” Nick stood in the hall and looked back to Casey’s living room. “I don’t see Casey killing herself. I see her terrified out of her mind.” Nick turned to Jen. “Where would you go?”
Jen thought for a minute. “I’d want to go home to mommy, but I wouldn’t want the crazy dude to follow me. I guess I would take some cash and just check into a hotel.”
Sam asked, “Seems like she would have told her boyfriend out there.”
Nick pointed his finger at Sam. “You’re right. She hasn’t contacted him though. Why not? Unless it’s one of them she’s afraid of. Something in that message might have tipped her off.”
Jen shook her head, “I don’t know, but something doesn’t fit. I don’t see her worrying her friends like this.”
Nick walked back to the computer. He borrowed a glove from Jen and sent the document to his own email. “See where he threatens her loved ones, too?” Nick turned to face Jen, “Could she be thinking of killing herself to save them?”
Jen asked, “Then why take a toothbrush?”
Sam stood looking out the front window, “CSU is here.”
Nick walked to the door, “I’m going to interview Eric myself. Can you guys canvass this building? Patrol did it once, but they might have missed something.”
Jen and Sam split up and Nick knocked on Eric’s apartment door. Eric answered and stepped into the hall. Nick waited. Eric saluted him. Nick saluted back. Nick wanted to maintain the only bond he and Eric shared.
Nick leaned against the hall wall. He wanted this conversation with Eric to be casual.
Eric asked, “What’s happening over there?”
Nick answered, “We don’t know for sure. It seems that Casey is missing. Have you seen her?”
Eric shook his head. “When did she go missing?” Eric wanted to find out how much Nick knew. He also wanted to give Nick the flash drive he had stolen from the man’s house. It would be better if Nick caught the man. Eric was afraid he’d make another mistake.
“I’m not sure when she went missing. You don’t miss much around here, Lieutenant. I was hoping you may have noticed someone around here that didn’t belong yesterday evening or sooner.”
Eric’s chest swelled at the reference to his military position. “I haven’t seen anyone, but remember you had me at the police station for a long time. I did find this in the hall though. Right outside Casey’s door last night.”
Eric had pulled a flash drive from his pocket. Nick was stunned. “Just lying on the floor in the middle of the hall?”
“Yes, sir.”
Nick wrapped it in his kerchief and put it in his pocket. “Was your mom here last night, Eric?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Could I ask her a couple of questions?” Nick started walking toward Erick’s apartment door.
“She isn’t home right now. She had a bridge game with her friends.” Eric smiled.
Nick handed him a card. “Have her call me when she gets home.” Eric nodded. Nick nodded back and walked away. His gut told him Eric was hiding something important. Nick was running out of time.
Jen and Sam reported that no one in the building noticed anything unusual until this morning when Tanner, Shelly and Joyce arrived followed by all of the police. Several of them asked if this had anything to do with the Westside Slasher. Evidently the press had now named their killer. With the press nosing around, the case would definitely get worse.
Nick told Jen and Sam that he would meet up with them shortly at the squad room. He wanted to go home to look through the flash drive Eric had given him. The odds it had anything to do with Casey’s disappearance were slim, but at least it was something. His apartment wasn’t that far away and Nick still wasn’t sure who he could trust in the squad.
CHAPTER 17
Friday noon
He walked slowly through Nick’s apartment. It was very modern, sleek, and almost military in its order. The stillness of the air excited him. He had entered Nick’s world like a faint wisp of smoke. These were Nick’s things, Nick’s life. He noticed a recliner across from the television. The end table with mail and remote controls marked this as Nick’s throne. He sat in the chair and inhaled slowly. The hairs on the back of his neck tingled. Can you feel me, Nick? Can you feel our connection?
He looked in the drawers and closets. Nick had a leather box full of medals and awards tucked in a dresser drawer. He wondered why they weren’t out for display. He selected one he thought was especially impressive and hung it from the drawer pull. There, that was better. Nick would know his service to the country was appreciated. He went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth with Nick’s toothbrush. He curled his lips back and smiled in the mirror when he was through. He ran his tongue over his teeth that now were covered with Nick’s DNA. He went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. One red apple sat in the center of the top shelf. Nick’s only treat. He grabbed the apple and left.
He mindlessly drove his car around the neighborhood, getting a feel for Nick’s everyday scenery. In the car he savored the apple as he chewed. Apple juice ran from the corners of his mouth. He watched his reflection in the rearview mirror as he ate. Each swallow meant he had consumed something of Nick’s. Something Nick would never have now.
He drove toward Casey’s apartment. He wondered if she had gone to work today, or stayed home, too terrified to leave. He turned the corner on her block and saw the patrol cars, five of them. Officers were walking in and out of the building, stopping people to ask questions.
A terrible thought crossed his mind; had she done it? Had she killed herself? Had he ruined his chances of having her for himself? He cursed himself for having given her the option. What was he thinking? Of course, she would be weak. This had been a mistake.
His monsters were instantly furious. He had cheated them. Now he had made a mistake. They were going to take over his power, he knew it. How much time did he have?
Nick opened his apartment door. The faint smell of aftershave wisped past his nose. He drew his pistol and slowly checked each room. Someone had been there recently. Nick’s observation training kicked in. He saw a larger indent in his chair cushion than was normal. His service medal was hanging from his dresser pull. His bathroom sink was wet. He felt his toothbrush, it was wet, too. Nick wrapped the toothbrush in a paper towel for DNA evidence. He went to his kitchen and opened the fridge. His apple was gone.
Nick considered the actions of his intruder. It was the intimate things his intruder wanted to learn about him. He left evidence of a sick mind loo
king to bond, to become one. The arrogance of leaving deliberate signs he had been there. Using something personal of Nick’s, made the intrusion even more invasive, intimate. Purposefully denying Nick the pleasure of his only apple was a subtle statement of power. These actions would all be extremely meaningful to a psychopath.
Nick laid his pistol on the kitchen counter and got a glass of water. He realized he must be closer to identifying the killer than he thought. Not only did this psychopath believe Nick was a threat, he was preparing for an attack. Nick pulled the flash drive from his pocket and walked over to his laptop. Nick opened the first of three documents on the flash drive. It appeared to be a manuscript titled “Tick Tock.” The first line of the story read; Pity those that underestimate the power of evil, for their fate is predetermined.
Nick frowned at the words. In one line the author had made clear the depth of his delusion. Nick leaned back and whispered, “Come and get it.”
Eli struggled to carry everything he had brought for the wall excavation through the door of Momma’s Corner. Reluctantly, a customer held the door open for him. Eli looked like a lost mountain climber with his over packed tool belt, blue tarp under his arm, two pick axes, and a mortar hammer. Once inside, customers gave him a wide berth as they exchanged worried glances.
Eli chuckled, “It’s okay, folks, I work for the city.” He excused himself through the crowd and headed to the back to find Momma.
Mitch offered a weak smile to the man he was waiting on. “Got an issue in the basement.”
The man handed Mitch his money and took his sandwich. “I’d say you do if it takes a mortar hammer to fix it.”
Mitch didn’t think the lunch hour rush would ever end. He got tired of explaining the noises of the pickaxe and whatever drilling hammer tool Eli and Momma were using. At one point the customers were shouting their orders at him. He was going to kill Eli!
Around three o’clock a regular customer came in that Mitch had known for years. “Can I ask a huge favor? We’ve got some work goin’ on in the basement. I just want to run down real quick and see how it’s goin’.”
The customer said no problem and vowed to mind the store as long as he was needed.
Mitch ran to the back, went down the stairs to the basement and walked clear to the back wall before he found them. The mortar hammer was blasting away at the brick wall with little resistance. The tarp on the floor was heaped with half bricks and debris. Mitch screamed for one of them to turn around. Neither of them heard him. They continued their crazed quest to break through the wall.
Mitch tapped Momma’s shoulder. She jumped, turned around with the mortar hammer pointed at him, the whites of her eyes the only thing recognizable about her. A thick layer of mortar dust hung in the air. Eli and Momma were wearing masks. Mitch was actually startled by Momma’s appearance.
She shut off the hammer and tapped Eli’s shoulder. There was finally some silence.
Eli removed his mask to reveal an ear to ear smile. “Look here!” Eli picked up a small meter of some sort and held it to the wall. A red light came on and a needle flew across the display arc to the far right. “This is an iron door. We’ve got two layers of brick on top. See that chalk line? When we finish we should be able to just open the door.”
Mitch asked, “Just what do you think will be on the other side of the door, Geraldo? Two more layers of bricks? I can’t hear the customers up there.”
Momma laughed as she looked at the outline of the mask on Eli’s face. “You and me are goin’ to need a good cleaning up when we finish this. Think we’ll be done by closing time?”
Eli smiled again, “Oh, yeah. Probably got time to take some of this mess to the dumpster, too.” Eli looked at Mitch, “You best leave here before you look like us.”
Mitch asked Momma, “What kind of sandwiches should I make for the glass case for the dinner rush?”
Momma smiled, “You only know how to make tuna. Put ’em in those good sub buns and add some lettuce and tomato if they want. Fish is always a good choice for Friday.” Momma put her mask back on and revved up her hammer. She turned, placed her feet wide apart and attacked the wall.
Mitch laughed all the way back upstairs. He hadn’t seen Momma this happy in years.
Eric pulled up a stool to sit while Casey ate the peanut butter sandwich he had brought her. She tried not to think about what Eric’s kitchen might look like. The constant crackling of the beetles was really working on her mind. She felt like she was at the edge of sanity and peeking over.
Eric watched her eat and said, “I heard what that man wrote on your computer. He wants you to kill yourself.” Eric’s brow furrowed. “He says if you don’t, he will kill you.”
Casey swallowed. “How do you know what he wrote?”
“I heard your friends read it out loud. They called the police. That detective Stryker was here. I wanted to tell him not to worry about you, that you were safe.”
Casey wanted to appeal to any morsel of sanity that Eric may still have. “Eric, how does this end for me? How can you let me go after what you have done?”
Eric looked as if he had been hit with a sucker punch. “What I have done has been to protect you.” Eric stood. “If you don’t understand that, I could get in trouble.” He frowned at her now. “You must keep these walls and this room our secret. I thought I could trust you.” Eric rubbed his hair with both of his hands and started mumbling to himself. He whipped around to face Casey, “If I can’t trust you, it makes you an enemy. A traitor. That’s it, you are talking like a traitor.”
Casey realized she had sparked a whole new line of crazy in Eric’s thinking. Good job Casey.
She sputtered, “Eric, you can trust me. Remember, I have always been nice to you. I’m not a traitor. You are protecting me from that man. I’m sure you’ll keep me safe.”
Eric’s expression softened and he smiled, “I am waiting for orders to proceed. Then you will really be safe.” He stood, grabbed an empty garbage bag and left.
Casey exhaled and thought about what Eric had said. He truly felt he was protecting her. Maybe he was. The sounds from the beetles seemed amplified. She leaned back against the bars and wiped a tear from her cheek. If she made it out of this mess without going crazy, it would be a good book. She chuckled to herself. That’s how all of this started, with a crazy book.
Friday 4:00 pm
Nick had spent two hours reading the documents on the flash drive. He printed the four page document that he was sure had been delivered to Don just before his death. The use of real names from the case files seemed to point to someone in the 107th squad as the author. But Nick had learned years ago that the obvious was usually wrong. Anyone could hack into the PD files and get all of the same information. It would be a clever diversion to implicate one of their own. Regardless he also forwarded the document download to David Fulton, the U.S. District Attorney.
What Nick didn’t believe was that the flash drive was just mysteriously left outside of Casey’s door. How did Eric get it? Did Eric know who Casey’s author was? Were they working together? Nineteen people missing since 2009 from that block could be the work of a team. There were certainly enough unsolved murders and missing persons in Chicago to swallow that statistic without anyone noticing.
Nick drove to the precinct and updated Jen on the flash drive Eric had found, and his secret visitor.
Jen frowned and said, “This crazy is killing cops and now has visited your apartment? From now on you and I travel together.”
Nick and Jen had been partners for the last four years and she had been an eager student of his close combat classes. Nick felt very comfortable having Jen cover his back, but he didn’t want her near him with this crazy sneaking around.
Nick nodded, “Why don’t we compromise? I promise to keep you posted on my every move and use our signal in every conversation.”
Jen shook her head. “Not good enough. Call or text me every hour.”
Nick laughed, “Th
at might be tricky if I go to Lacey’s tonight. Besides, we both have to sleep.”
Jen knew she would lose the argument. “This guy is a whole new level of crazy.”
“I know. Anything interesting develop while I was gone? What did Wayne find out about his dead neighbor lady?”
Wayne heard Nick’s question and answered. “Not much, elementary school teacher. Not married, no kids, doesn’t have many friends. Kind of the female version of Chad.” Wayne shrugged.
Jen’s phone rang. She looked at Nick. “ID says it’s Carl calling me.”
Jen answered, “Yes, Carl.” Jen raised her eyebrows and looked at Nick. “I’ll tell him.”
Nick had just written “missing” next to Casey’s name and erased Wayne’s name from the murder board. Wayne stood up and clapped. Nick smiled.
Jen said, “Carl said to let you know he’s arrested the Westside Slasher. He’s bringing him here now.”
The squad room went silent.
CHAPTER 18
Friday 6:00 pm
Eli came from the back room looking like Big Foot. He was covered in mortar dust and his matted hair stood out in clumps. He still had the outline of the mask on his face. Customers gasped as he walked past them to the door. “Goin’ home to clean up. I’ll be back at closin’ time. Momma said to tell you she’d be down to help in about twenty.”
Mitch looked at the clock on the wall. He had to admit he was excited about exploring the tunnels. Eli had been right after all. Mitch could hear Momma singing in the shower right through the ceiling. To the delight of their customers she was singing “Chicago,” substituting her own unique lyrics when needed. Mitch had several customers linger to hear the end.
One man said, “She ought to write that down. I like her version better than the original!”
Tanner had stayed at work in case Casey showed up or called. Shelly and Joyce had been sniffling all day. He couldn’t concentrate on anything. At one point they were all in Casey’s office just to be near her things. Tanner couldn’t get the words of the author out of his head. How could someone hate so much? How do people get so twisted?
Cusp of Crazy: Nick Stryker Series, Book One, Shallow End Gals Page 15
