Deceitful Moon

by Rick Murcer

  “Really? Are you the new department shrink? And I don’t wear panties,” responded Alex.

  “Not what I heard.”

  “We have work to do and no time for this crap . . . who told you that?”

  “I can’t reveal my sources.”

  Manny raised his hands. “Whoa. It wasn’t me. Besides, I thought you gave those up.”

  Josh looked at Alex. “What kind of panties? The little leopard spot ones with lace?”

  “What? I expect this crap from them, but you too?” scowled Alex.

  “For the record, I guess I’d need to know too,” said Max grinning. “You know, for future reference involving any other cases we might work. If panties come up missing, I’d know where they went.”

  Alex released a sigh. “Are we done?”

  “Hopefully. Those mental images were getting to me,” Chloe grinned, pouring more coffee.

  Manny settled back in his chair, looking at the files stacked in front of Alex. “Before we get on to the forensic evidence, we need to talk.”

  “We don’t have much to go over anyway,” said Alex. “You all have the reports, and I gave the rest a rundown of the MO from notes-in-the-nose to acid type.”

  “Glad I didn’t piss off this killer,” added Josh. “I’ve grown fond of the men below.”

  “Haven’t we all,” smiled Sophie.

  Josh cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. “When will I learn?”

  “Learn what? Whatever it is, I’m a great teacher,” said Sophie.

  Alex rolled his eyes. “Anyway, the ballistics are weird and Sparky’s working on that. It’s tough to get a match from the hollow points, but not impossible. Plus, we’re analyzing the black leather they were all tied with and hope to know where the straps came from soon. We also figured out the small marks on the backs of the victims appear to be high-heel shoe punctures. More to come.”

  “Thanks, Alex.” Leaning forward, Manny spread his hands on the table and sorted out thoughts he never imagined he’d have.

  “I had Mike Crosby released. Stella Crosby is involved in these murders, and I believe she shot Gavin.”

  His statement resounded like fireworks through the conference room, bringing the lighter mood to a halt and replacing it with something from a darker realm. Much darker.

  “Are you sure?” asked Josh.

  “One hundred percent.” He tossed the note that Stella had written to the special agent. “And that’s not all.”

  Josh read the message, frowning, and then read it again before he passed it to Chloe. “First things first. Why would Stella do that, or be involved in any of this?”

  Manny looked to the ceiling then back to Josh. “I don’t know. It’s been killing me. Maybe Lexy’s death snapped something precious in her mind. It could be—no, probably is, a first psychotic episode.”

  “Brought on by stress, or depression, at least that’s what the experts say,” confirmed Chloe. “Unusual, but it makes some sense here.”

  “It does. Lexy was treated so brutally that . . . well, you saw it. We all did our best, but maybe Stella blames us, in particular Gavin and me. God knows we blamed ourselves,” said Manny. “I mentioned to Sophie that her behavior fits with that kind of trauma. People react in different ways. This is her response.”

  “So, she figures what good are you two? She wants to make you pay the price and do what the system can’t do, at least in her eyes,” nodded Chloe.

  “By taking out these other sickos, she thinks she’s doing the world a favor,” said Sophie.

  Manny shrugged his shoulders. “That’s my best guess. Stella’s turning fantasy into reality. I believe she’s swimming in the middle of an ocean of pain that she thinks will never end.”

  “I’m sorry, Manny. I know you’re close,” Josh said softly.

  The emotion welled up, and it was all Manny could do to keep it inside. Life was constantly changing, that was hard to deny. But changes like this translated into losses that would last the rest of his life. It would take awhile to get his mind around it. Maybe more than awhile. “I’ll deal with it later; I just never saw it coming.”

  “Who would?” said Max.

  “I guess you’re right, but it doesn’t make it any easier.”

  Josh slid the note back to Manny. “What do you mean that’s not all?”

  Manny explained the call warning him of another murder and the phone call Stella made from the hospital. “I still believe the information was totally legitimate, that Stella was supposed to be at that apartment, but something went wrong.”

  “And that she knew you’d find out about the call from the hospital, so you’d come running to Gavin’s room, thus the note,” said Chloe.

  “I do, and she was right.”

  “But you don’t think she made the warning call to your cell, do you?” asked Josh.

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Oh crap. That means—” moaned Sophie.

  “—that we have more than one killer here. And I think they’re women.” Manny frowned and finished his thought. “There might be more than two.”

  “I'll give you that the other shooter could be female. It makes sense. But more than two? Why would you say that?” asked Alex.

  “I think the timeline for the murders, counting Gavin’s shooting, might be too tight for two people.” Manny leaned forward. “If Stella did what she says she did, she left Gavin’s office about 8:55 p.m. Mike claims he saw her leaving his apartment complex about five and a half hours later.”

  “The department called Stella to tell her about Gavin at 3:20 a.m., then picked her up to go to the hospital.”

  “I follow you so far,” said Josh.

  “The guy on the west side, Ben Morgan, was killed about 3 a.m., then the victim on the north end, Arlo Becker, maybe an hour later. She couldn’t have been involved in either of those attacks.”

  “True, regarding the times. You’re making my head hurt, but true, nonetheless,” said Alex.

  “But you can’t pinpoint the exact times of death, right?” Manny scribbled on a note pad.

  “Yeah, not exactly, but there is no doubt Morgan was killed first. The science says so.”

  “So, the killer would’ve needed twenty minutes to get to the north side, persuade Becker to let her in, do whatever she did, tie him up, use the acid, shoot him, then dump his body by the shopping center on the north end where he was found about 5 a.m.”

  “Sounds tight, but it could be done,” said Max.

  Manny shook his head. “According to the officer who discovered Morgan’s body on the West side, he wasn’t in that parking lot at 5:30 a.m., but he was there twenty minutes later on his next neighborhood round. So that—”

  “—means the second victim was dumped before the first,” finished Alex.

  The room grew silent. The implication that three killers were involved was staggering. Getting three people to agree to anything for very long was not an easy task, let alone to agree on some kind of vigilante partnership.

  “I think that explains the call I received. And since I got the call after the guy was offed in Mike’s apartment complex and since that crime didn’t fit the MO of the other three victims, my guess is that the group didn’t care for Stella’s Lone Ranger act,” said Manny, breaking the silence.

  “Why? A dead pervert is a dead pervert to them, right?” quizzed Sophie.

  “I get it, I think. If the other two thought she was putting their special project in danger, they’d set her up for a fall. But then what?” said Chloe. “What if she spills her guts? They all go to prison.”

  “Maybe they weren’t worried about that. I mean, how would Stella know that she was conned? To her, it could’ve been bad luck. She’d take the fall. The others would let things cool off, and then, later, finish what they started,” answered Manny, sipping his coffee. “Or maybe she was tipped off. Hell, maybe she figured it out. We don’t have enough information to be sure.”

  “Okay. Now m
y head is starting to hurt,” groaned Sophie. “That could mean that Stella is out there, doing her own thing, and she’s pissed because she was betrayed.”

  “Actually, I’m not,” came the voice from the open door.

  Manny turned his head and saw Stella Crosby, dressed in hooker black, blood streaked down her skirt, standing at the door with a gun pointed at his head.

  Chapter-45

  The fourth member of the Justice Club, calling herself Penny, sat inside the stolen SUV parked down the street just east of the LPD headquarters, window down, inviting the warm air to sit with her. It carried with it the scent of the city, her city, subtle but unmistakable.

  The CD player loosened a sound that was elevator music to most, but not to her. Penny loved the old tunes and the men that made them come alive. Not just Glenn Miller, Jimmy Dorsey, and Count Basie, and all that Big Band sound, but Old Blue Eyes, Sammy Davis, Jr., Bing Crosby, and, of course, Dean Martin. Tony Bennett could make her cry, and none were better than Andy Williams . . . except the one singing right now, just for her.

  “Unforgettable, that’s what you are…”

  His middle name said it all. Nat King Cole was the brightest star in the sky, and you were simply a damned fool if you didn’t believe it.

  “God knows there’s a shitload of those out there,” she said softly.

  Take Stella Crosby for instance. She had come undone. Stupid bitch. The Club had a good thing going, but Stella couldn’t keep it together. She’d made things too private, and now they could all sail up Shitcreek without a paddle. And everybody knows how fast that creek can rise.

  Penny had followed Stella from the time she left the hospital and knew she wasn’t heading to the drop spot to pick up the gun, but had another path in mind. And why not? The so-called leader of their tight-knit killing Club had betrayed Stella. And Stella would never have known about the setup if Penny hadn’t intervened. All it had taken was a brief, anonymous call to warn Stella that things weren’t looking good for tonight . . . and why. Stella had reacted predictably, took care of the next sick bastard on the hit list, setting things up for this very moment. For Stella and her.

  King Nat switched tunes and she closed her eyes, taking in every nuance of the King of Crooner’s talent. God in heaven, she loved his music.

  “Hey.”

  Penny jumped, but held her poise. Her years involved with law enforcement had taught her well. She glanced over to the source of the greetings. A young uniform was leaning in her open window grinning like an idiot Cheshire cat. She hated cats.

  “Hey yourself.”

  “What are you doing out here this late? Surveillance?”

  “Close, more like undercover.” The look on his face turned so serious she almost laughed out loud.

  “I didn’t know . . . does Manny . . . my gosh. Did I just blow it? I’m so sorry. I should keep moving, right? Oh crap!”

  “No harm, no foul yet . . . but you’re right, move your ass and get into the car, now.”

  The young officer rushed around to the passenger side, fumbled for the handle, finally made it work, and climbed inside, breathing hard with excitement. “Wow. I never thought after only three months, I’d be sittin’ in an undercover unit.”

  “Well, it’s not really an undercover unit; I just couldn’t afford any witnesses.”

  “What witness? What do you . . . ?”

  She put the .22 Smith and Wesson with the custom suppressor to his temple and pulled the trigger. His head jerked to the right and slammed against the door, then bounced back against the head rest. Warm blood quickly filled the seat, but it wasn’t a problem. She was done here.

  “Sorry, kid. Life is full of wrong places and wrong times.”

  Ejecting the CD, she put it in her bag. Then she reached into the backseat and pulled the large attaché case over the seat and got out.

  She scanned the area. Satisfied that no one noticed her, she moved across the street to the old brick building directly adjacent to the LPD, with a full view of the LPD’s large conference room window. Moving around back, she punched in the security code, closed the door, and moved up the four flights of steps to the fifth floor where she unpacked the M24 Remington 7.62mm rifle and snapped it together in seconds. She loaded six cartridges of M118 Special Ball ammo and racked one in the chamber.

  Settling in front of the three-by-three window that gave her the best line of sight, she focused the M3A scope directly on her intended target.

  Penny took a deep breath, remembering everything she’d learned in the life before this one and waited.

  Chapter-46

  “I want everyone to put their hands flat on the table, now. If any of you even twitch the wrong way, I’ll empty this clip, and we’ll see how many of you are still breathing.”

  Manny watched as she shifted her weight, eyes growing harder. Not good.

  “I said now. I don’t have all damned night.”

  “Easy, Stella. We’re doing it,” Manny said quietly.

  “Don’t start that easy-speaking, good-cop shit with me. I’ve heard it a million times. If you do it again, I’m going to puke, then start shooting.”

  She closed the heavy door behind her with the heel of her foot, never taking her eyes from the group. She moved a few feet to Manny’s right. “At least you’re smart enough to do what you’re told. Not that it will do you, any of you, any good. You couldn’t save Lexy, and you won’t be able to save yourselves.”

  “We did our best, Stella,” said Josh.

  “Well, that wasn’t good enough, was it? She’s gone, you’re not, and I’ve hated you all ever since.”

  Manny saw the tears welling in her eyes. He couldn’t tell what was worse, the pain or the anger. He chose his words carefully. “So, Gavin first, then me, then the others?”

  “Gavin was even worse than the rest of you. He not only let her die, but he let me die, too. I wasted away on the inside, and he wasn’t there for me; he just wallowed in his own pity. My biggest regret is not putting a couple more rounds in him.”

  She smiled a wicked grin. It reminded Manny of the lunatic they’d taken down on the cruise ship.

  “As far as the rest of you go, let’s just say I brought a couple extra clips and the acid.”

  “Acid? Whoa. I don’t even have a wong,” said Sophie.

  “True. So maybe I’ll just shoot you a couple more times.”

  “What? Not in the face though, okay?”

  “Stop talking,” said Stella.

  Manny’s mind was racing. She fully intended to carry out her threat. “It’s not too late to stop. There are people who can help you.”

  “Oh, I found help. I found support. Not too conventional, but it worked for me. It took some time, but we decided that if people like Argyle and the perverts we’ve already taken care of got away with doing what they do, why not us?”

  “But cold-blooded murder?” said Sophie. “They did their time.”

  “You call that justice? They get to ruin the lives of women, and even little girls, forever, and they get a few years in prison, then get out to do it again. If you think that’s right, then you’re dumber than I thought. Much dumber. That’s why we formed the Justice Club.”

  Manny had seen the wild, out-of-control look on the faces of others. It hurt to think she’d gone this far.

  “So, because we’re cops, part of the system, your Club decided we have to go too?” asked Alex, his voice shaking.

  “No. Not the Club, just me. You have to go because you let Argyle and Jenkins kill my new daughter. That makes you screw-ups . . . and also you’re part of the system. That’s enough strikes in this game.”

  “You’re gonna shoot me a couple times? Really?” said Sophie, disbelief in her voice.

  “Maybe three if you don’t shut up.”

  Chloe turned her eyes to Stella. “Your Club set you up. Some support that turned out to be.”

  Stella flinched, her hand tightening on the gun. Manny knew Chloe had h
it a nerve. It was a classic technique to throw off her game, hoping she’d make a mistake.

  Gavin’s wife relaxed and smiled. “Nice try. What goes on in the Club, stays in the Club. We’ll work it out . . . because we’re not finished.”

  “Stella, I—”

  She put the gun to Manny’s head and bent close. “Enough talk. This is over.”

  “Like hell it is,” yelled Sophie, springing from her chair, lunging for Stella in one motion.

  Manny pushed his chair back violently, knocking Stella off balance. He reached for his Glock but never made it. Shots were fired, and at the same time, the conference room window exploded into a million pieces. He felt pain on the back of his head, and his world went black.

  Chapter-47

  The tall woman nibbled at her chicken salad sandwich while she sat inside the 2002 Chevy Blazer in the employee’s parking area. Twelve thirty a.m. had taken forever to get here. She couldn’t have taken much more tonight. The ogling, the intended clever remark that was supposed to make her want the man who said it with an uncontrollable lust. But instead of accomplishing the desired effect, the words caused her nausea to rise and her thoughts of murder or suicide to increase. God knew she’d rather die, or watch them die, than to sleep with any of them, even the good-looking ones. Especially the good-looking ones. They all had needs better satisfied at a damn zoo.

  She drank from her coffee cup, looking down at her long legs. That wasn’t the worst of it though, was it? There existed a healthy desire for sex, one that was natural between men and women, one she’d never really experienced, not yet anyway. She was sure it was there. Maybe even the knight in shining armor that wanted to take her away to a different, even normal life. But all she ever noticed in the eyes of her patrons was the evil feeling of depravity that accompanied men in heat as they undressed her with their eyes. She wasn’t a woman to them, but a place, a thing that would allow them to act out their most secret perversions. Furthermore, they thought that since she worked where she worked, she was ready and willing to be a part of any sick fantasy they wanted.