by Rick Murcer
A small hissing sound, accompanied by subtle rivulets of steam, escaped through the freshly bored openings.
She had a feeling the FBI was going to get a repair bill, a big one.
Josh glowered at Argyle. “What the hell’s wrong with you? Where in the universe did you think you were going to go?”
Argyle didn’t respond. He simply raised his head, searching Chloe’s face, and suddenly flashed that beyond creepy trademark grin of his. His eyes seemed to go right through her and settle on her soul. She knew what he was thinking, what he sought. He was telling her, in his own special way, that he wanted her to be his next good time. The sooner the better.
Chloe shivered. She had seen a few things, monsters even. They came in all sorts of packages, with all sorts of agendas. The terrorism gig had shown her that. But nothing like Argyle. Pure, unadulterated evil. She shivered again.
“Get his ugly ass up and strap him into the interrogation room. We’re going to talk,” said Agent Corner.
The big cop was the last one to rise, and Argyle took a deep breath. He should have been gulping like a fish out of water with a man that size on his back. It was like he’d been prepared for how his little drama would play out. Was he that smart, that organized? Chloe fought the uneasy feeling building in her stomach. They had him. He wasn’t a threat. Right?
The crowd of blue ushered Argyle through a small wooden door, and he disappeared down the hall.
“I’m not cut out for this shit. I’m a scientist, a forensic guy. I don’t think I should even have a gun,” moaned Max.
“Hey, you did good. Except for the part where you let him get his hands on your weapon—and shooting a poor, innocent, defenseless ceiling.” Josh clapped him on the back. “That was a nice punch, though.”
“My hand hurts, and he never flinched. It felt like I hit steel.”
“I go to the restroom and, wham, I miss all the fun. That ain’t right,” Chloe chuckled.
“They have medicine for tiny, leaking bladders. I saw it on TV. Didn’t you, Max?”
“Yep. Diapers too. I think I can get her a sample of each.”
“You two are amazingly kind. Remember, things have a way of coming full circle.” Chloe thought about the picture on her camera. “Karma is a wonderful thing.”
“Just trying to help,” smiled Josh.
She watched him put his gun away and saw his demeanor change. “Let’s go see what Argyle has to say for himself.”
Five minutes later, Chloe and Josh sat across from the well-restrained Argyle. He was docile, almost unconcerned. She found that disconcerting, like he knew something they didn’t.
Josh had instructed her to not speak, that neither one of them would, until Argyle broke the tense silence. It was a way to begin to assert control over him. But he was a psychiatrist, and he had to know what they were doing. They didn’t have to wait long to find out.
“We are such a cozy trio, don’t you think? It’s a shame that Detective Williams isn’t here. I was looking forward to getting reacquainted.”
“Why does that matter?” asked Josh.
“Because he’s the only one I’m going to talk to.” Argyle became even more serene.
What the hell is going on here?
“You still don’t get it, do you? You’re not in control here,” said Chloe.
“Perhaps you’re right, Agent Franson.” He drew out the enunciation of her name.
Chloe flinched. It sounded so dirty coming from his lips. She wanted to rush to the nearest shower.
“But I suspect that you’re not entirely correct on that point.”
“So tell me the error of my way,” said Josh.
Argyle sat motionless. Chloe thought he was savoring the moment, like the last morsel of a gourmet meal cooked to utter perfection. Then his eyes turned as black as any darkness.
“Detective Williams is the only one that I wish to tell about the others.”
Chapter-25
Manny jammed his Ford SUV into park, jumped out, and headed for the hospital’s elevator, Alex and Sophie on his heels. There was a crowd of reporters, a few from Detroit, approaching him and Sophie, moving in for the kill like hyenas circling an injured impala.
“I’m sorry. We don’t know anything yet, and we’ll let you know”. Questions rained like hail in a storm, but fell on deaf ears. He, Sophie, and Alex pushed through the group and into the hospital’s foyer.
“Damn. That’s always fun,” complained Sophie.
“Yeah. I just wished they’d act like they at least cared.”
The elevator ride to the third floor was a silent, excruciating one. The damn things never moved quickly when it was necessary. Finally, the door parted at the third floor, and Manny burst through it like a running back headed for the goal line.
Stella stood at the window of the waiting room and turned to face him, like she felt he was there. Maybe she did. Her emotional state had to be at hyper level.
He hesitated when he saw her face. Stella looked every bit her age, and then some. It was a tough few hours for a family that had endured their fair share of horrendous days and sleepless nights the last few months.
He quickly noticed the woman standing close to her. Manny’s heart leapt a little. He didn’t remember being so glad to see someone. Louise was holding Stella’s hand, and speaking softly, the way women do and men can’t seem to fathom.
He’d called her on Sophie’s cell, and she had gotten there quickly. That was just like her; always on the spot. Ready to help. Manny reached for Stella’s other hand.
“Hey, girl. How you doing?”
Stella blinked at him and tried to smile through quivering lips. Her eyes were red; streaks ran down her angular cheeks. Her hair was a little less than Stella perfect. She was the absolute picture of grief, and his heart instantaneously ached for her, even more than it hurt for himself.
She hugged him fiercely. “Oh, about as good as you could expect,” she whispered. “Thanks for coming so quickly. You must be exhausted.”
“We caught a few Zs on the plane. We’re fine.”
Stella stepped back and held him at arm’s length. “Gavin used to say he was getting too old for this shit. I think I know what he meant.”
Sophie and Alex came close and hugged her. Manny watched fresh moisture cover her eyes with each embrace. He wondered how many tears she had left. How many anyone would have left.
Louise reached for his hand and squeezed. He hugged her. His wife’s perfume shook his senses, and he couldn’t ignore the merciless pang of guilt that stabbed him with an almost physical force. Chloe Franson. She lingered in his thoughts just a little too long, longer than any infatuation had the right to do. But those eyes could take him to cloud nine if he let them.
More guilt. How could he be thinking of Chloe when Gavin was in such rough shape and while he held the most wonderful woman in the world? He pushed thoughts of Chloe away. He wanted them to stay gone. Sometimes wanting and getting were great enemies.
“So, Argyle’s in jail?” asked Louise.
“Yeah. We got lucky. I’ll tell you about it later.”
She nodded.
The ICU doctor came from Gavin’s room and walked straight to Stella. “He seems to have stabilized after that last incident.”
“Incident?” quizzed Manny.
The doctor looked at Stella.
“It’s okay. There are no secrets here.”
“All right. His heart has stopped twice in the last three hours. Not long, but enough to make me consider, if he makes it, well . . .” She shifted her feet and continued. “Combined with the huge blood loss, those two episodes may have caused oxygen deprivation to his brain. I’m sorry. Only time will tell.”
Manny felt his body grow a number.
“That’s not all. Once the bullet stopped rattling off his ribs, it ended up lodged close to his aorta. Way too close. Surgery would be risky, although I’ve seen worse situations turn out just fine. The key is to get in
early. It could conceivably move closer and make the surgery more risky.”
The doctor smiled her best reassuring smile. Bedside manner wasn’t completely dead.
“I know. Lots of ifs and maybes. But it’s all we have for now. Let me suggest you keep churning out those prayers. They never hurt.” She touched Stella’s arm and left.
“I’m going to go see him,” said Manny.
“He’d like that,” whispered Stella.
Gavin looked frail, pale, and vulnerable, like a newborn in an incubator. The machines hooked to the police chief did little to enhance Manny’s state of mind. Tears welled up, then crawled down his face. The last thing his friend would ever want was to be helpless. It didn’t fit.
Manny smiled one of those half smiles born from memories that grief couldn’t eliminate entirely.
Gavin loved westerns and was a big John Wayne fan. Going out in a blaze of glory, amid a hail of bullets, like the Duke in one of his movies, would suit him more. Not wired up in the damned ICU of a hospital. He laid a hand on Gavin’s arm and prayed that his boss would get to see another ending.
Chapter-26
“I’ll stay with her. You three can’t help Gavin, or anyone else, sitting around here,” reasoned Louise.
“I don’t know,” Manny hesitated, rubbing his face with both hands, “if I can concentrate on anything right now.”
“I think she’s right,” agreed Stella. “We’ll let you know if anything changes. Besides, you know he’d take a hunk out of your collective asses if he thought you were sitting around feeling sorry for each other and him. He’d want you to be out looking for the bastard who did this.”
Sophie rubbed her backside. “Yep. Been on the end of that one.”
A tiny smile tugged at the corner of Stella’s mouth. She put her hands on Manny’s shoulders. Her firm grip was warm, reassuring. “Manny. You’ve always been amazingly good at separating the job from your emotions. What do they call that? Compartmentalizing? It’s what makes you who you are, the best.” She looked away from him. “That’s why Argyle’s behind bars. I need you to go to work, okay?”
Damn. How could anyone say no to that?
“All right. We’ll do it for both of you. But you have to keep me posted.”
“I will,” said Stella.
He kissed Louise and said he’d see her for dinner, hugged Stella again, and let Sophie and Alex escort him to the elevator.
Once in the car, Alex moved into CSI-mode quickly. “Where do you want to start?”
“Gavin’s office. We need to see what we can find.” He ran his hand through his hair. “If there’s anything to find.”
“Buzzy said Alex’s folks gave it the once over and found nothing. No shell casing. No unusual prints. Just hits from people that had reasons to be in Gavin’s office,” said Sophie.
“Were you on that list?” asked Manny.
“Yes. I . . . Oh, I get it. You mean because I was in there getting my butt reamed?”
“Just asking.”
Her eyes narrowed, and she zoned in on Manny. “I think I remember you taking a trip in there a time or two.”
“Me?” Mock surprise billowed across his face.
“Whatever. Hey, maybe they dusted for prints on his Nat King Cole CD collection. If they did, we’ll finally know who’s been taking them.”
He shrugged. “They’re always returned, right?”
“Yeah, but he always got pissy when one went missing.”
Alex cleared his throat. “Anyway. My people also didn’t think the hair and fibers would help either. But we won’t know until it’s all processed. I’m betting the particulate forensics will probably be a dead-end. There was so much traffic in his office that it’s just not going to be a good source of evidence.”
“Manny. Did you see how the man tried to change the subject?” Sophie gave Alex the evil eye. “It’s you, isn’t it? You’re a closet Nat King Cole groupie. Admit it.”
“Don’t be goofy. Nat King Cole? Come on. A man like me?”
“We’ll find out soon enough. Then your ass will be grass, and the Chief will be the lawn mower.” She chewed her lip and grew somber. “I hope.”
“Me too,” said Alex softly.
“We need to focus, okay? We just need to do our jobs and let the doctors do theirs,” Manny pointed out.
“You’re the boss, and you’re right. It’s not that easy for some of us,” agreed Sophie.
“You’re right, but it beats the hell out of sitting on the sidelines. Stella’s right.”
“Works for me,” said Alex.
“Sophie and I will go to the office. We need to see why the security cameras weren’t working and go over everything again. Any visitors, people he put away who had the biggest hard-on for Gavin. Anything or anyone we can think of for a motive that fits this thing.”
“We’re not going to get a ballistics match unless the docs think they can get that bullet out of Gavin. Might not anyway,” said Sophie.
Alex removed his glasses and wiped them on his shirt. “We’ve been pretty focused on Argyle and Gavin, but we need to face some facts about our other problem.”
Manny nodded. “Three murders in three days. That would mean that Lansing has a serial killer, apparently knocking off convicted rapists and sex offenders.”
“Buzzy confirmed that all three were recently, like in the last week, released from prison. And these days, it’s easy to track when these guys are let loose. Especially through OTIS [Offender Tracking Information System],” added Sophie. “She was still researching the third victim. He wasn’t in the Sexual Offender database. He was released after serving time for a couple of white-collar crimes, but she’s still digging.”
“Let’s hope she finds a connection. If not, that means the victims are random ex-cons and that makes it worse.” Manny cocked his head, knitting his brow. “The thing is, this killer has come storming out of the gate. I mean two in one night is serious dedication, particularly in different parts of town. Usually it takes awhile to ramp it up like this. This seems to be pure rage. “Something, some stressor, got them going.”
“Victim?” asked Alex.
“Not necessarily. It could be the spouse, son, or dad that has snapped because of something that happened to a loved one.” The glower on Manny’s face grew deeper. “If it is a female victim, we have a real problem. She’ll stay at it. Women serial killers don’t do it for the gratification of some sexual release, but mostly kill for revenge.”
“Well, the first victim’s crotch didn’t look so good. That looks like overkill to me,” observed Sophie.
“I need to get to both crime scenes, and then examine the bodies to verify things are what they look like.” Alex let out a breath and rolled down his window. The morning was already heating up. “I never thought I’d say this, but maybe we could use some help.”
“FBI help? Josh and his crew?” asked Manny. “Do you think we need them?”
“The budget cuts weren’t kind to us, and we’re down a few people. Plus, we have Gavin’s situation on our plate. I’m just saying.”
“Ooooo. Let me call him,” offered Sophie. “I have his number on speed dial.”
“Does your husband know that?” quizzed Alex.
Sophie grinned. “Hey. It’s just work. Anyway, Randy’s reaping all of the benefits of my fantasy world, comprende?”
“I thought we agreed on this TMI thing,” snorted Alex.
“No calls yet. I need to think about it. They’re going to be busy getting everything in order to bring Argyle back to Michigan. I don’t want to mess with that,” replied Manny.
“Fair enough. While you two are checking out the building, I’m going to get my gear and see what I can see,” Alex said. “By the way, why do you think Mike wasn’t at the hospital? He is Gavin’s only kid.”
“I noticed that too. They’ve not been getting along, and honestly, Mike has flat-out been acting strange the last few weeks,” answered Manny. “I don�
�t blame him, though.”
“Still, it’s his dad,” said Alex.
“I’m sure we’ll see him soon. They were pretty close before Lexy died,” said Manny.
He wheeled the red SUV into the parking garage. Two detectives talked with three blues near the building’s security door. The two detectives, Kathy Ross and Frank Wymer, saw Manny and Sophie and hurried over. Alex got into his cruiser, heading for the west side of town.
“You two look like you’ve seen a ghost,” said Manny. “What’s up?”
“First, let me say we’re both pulling for the Chief. We’re not as close to him as you two, but he always treated us fairly,” said Ross, her long, black hair moving as she shook her head.
“Thank you.”
Wymer, a very large man, sported a short, gray crew cut, confirming what the military tattoos on his forearms displayed: Once a Marine, always a Marine. He stepped into the conversation. “It’s gotten worse.”
“What has?” Manny asked, not really wanting the answer.
“We got a call from an apartment complex in the south end, near Davlind Road, called the Royal Life.”
He had Manny’s full attention. “That’s where Mike Crosby lives.”
“Mike’s okay, but we have another murder. Mike’s next door neighbor was shot in his bed. Two gunshots to the chest, according to the first officers on the scene,” said Wymer.
This didn’t feel good. “So?”
Wymer looked nervously to Ross, then back to Manny and Sophie. “Mike may have been involved. Apparently, people heard them arguing. Something about the guy being registered as a sex offender.” The big man sighed. “Mike smacked him a good one in the guy’s apartment.”
“Are you sure?”
The big detective nodded.
Manny felt like Mike Tyson had just landed a solid one-two punch to his ribs. He fought to catch his breath. This wasn’t real. Mike too? His next thought was of Stella. The river was rising, and she had no boat.
“Shit,” swore Sophie.
What the hell is happening here? Why had Lansing suddenly become the crime capital of the world?
