Kitabı oku: «If She Saw», sayfa 2
CHAPTER TWO
Kate spent the next hour or so tidying up the house, even though she had already done so before leaving to go shopping. It made her feel off to be so anxious to have Michelle coming to her house. Melissa had lived in this house during her high school years so when she came to visit (which wasn’t often enough in Kate’s opinion), Kate didn’t feel the need for the place to be spotless. So why was she so concerned about how it looked for a two-month-old?
Maybe it’s some odd kind of grandmother nesting, she thought while she scrubbed the sink in the powder room…a room she was well aware that her granddaughter would not even see, much less actually use.
As she rinsed the sink out, her doorbell rang. She was flooded with an excitement that she had not quite been ready for. She was smiling from ear to ear when she answered the door. Melissa stood on the other side, carrying Michelle in her car seat. The baby was fast asleep, a thick blanket tucked around her legs.
“Hey, Mom,” Melissa said as she stepped into the house. She took a quick look around and rolled her eyes. “How much did you clean today?”
“I plead the fifth,” Kate said as she gave her daughter a hug.
Melissa set the car seat down carefully on the floor and slowly unbuckled Michelle. She picked her up and handed her softly to Kate. It had been almost a full week since Kate had visited Melissa and Terry, but when she took Michelle into her arms, it felt like much longer.
“What do you and Terry have planned for tonight?” Kate asked.
“Not much, really,” Melissa said. “And that’s the beauty of it. We’re going to go out for dinner and drinks. Maybe some dancing. Also, we changed our minds about asking you to watch her overnight because we realized we’re not quite ready for that. The unbroken sleep is much needed, but I just can’t be away from her for that long.”
“Oh, I think I can understand that,” Kate said. “You guys go out and enjoy yourselves.”
Melissa shrugged the diaper bag from her shoulder and set it by the car seat. “Everything you need is in here. She’s going to want to eat again in about an hour and she’d going to fight sleep. Terry thinks it’s cute but I think it’s of the devil. If she gets gassy, there are gas drops in the back pocket and—”
“Lissa…we’ll be fine. I have raised a child, you know. She turned out pretty good, too.”
Melissa smiled and surprised Kate by giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll pick her up around eleven or so. Is that too late?”
“Nope, that’s perfect.”
Melissa gave one final look to her baby, a look that made Kate’s heart swell. She could remember being a mother and having that internal feeling of love fill her—a love than translated to the sheer will of doing anything and everything to ensure this human you’d created would be safe.
“If you need anything, call me,” Melissa said, though she was still looking at Michelle and not Kate.
“I will. Now go. Have fun.”
Melissa finally turned away and headed out the door. As she closed it, little Michelle stirred awake in Kate’s arms. She gave her grandmother a sleepy little smile and let out a tiny yawn.
“So what do we do now?” Kate asked.
The question was playfully directed at Michelle but she felt a weight behind it that made her wonder if she was simply voicing a rhetorical question to herself. Her daughter was grown up now, with a daughter of her own. Now here she was, nearing fifty-six and with her first grandchild in her arms. So…what do we do now?
She thought about that pull to return to work in any capacity and, for perhaps the first time, it felt small.
Smaller even than the little girl she now held in her arms.
***
By eight o’clock that night, Kate was wondering if Melissa and Terry had simply managed to create the most well-behaved baby in recorded history. Not once did Michelle cry or even get fussy. She was simply content to be held. After two hours in Kate’s arms, Michelle nodded off to sleep. Kate carefully placed Michelle on the center of her queen-sized bed and then stood at the doorway for a moment to watch her granddaughter sleep.
She wasn’t sure how long she had been standing there when her phone buzzed from the kitchen table behind her. She had to tear her eyes away from Michelle but managed to get to the phone within a few seconds. The single buzz meant that it was a text rather than a call and she was not at all surprised to see that it was Melissa.
How’s she doing? Melissa asked.
Unable to resist, Kate smiled and responded: I limited her to just three beers. She went out with some guy on a motorcycle about an hour ago. I told her to be back by 11.
The response came quickly: Oh, you’re not funny at all.
The back-and-forth banter made her nearly as happy as the sleeping baby in her bedroom. After her father died, Melissa had become withdrawn—especially toward Kate. She’d blamed Kate’s work for her father’s death and even though she had come to understand that was not the case later on in life, there were times when Kate felt that Melissa still resented the time she had spent in the bureau after his death. Oddly enough, though, Melissa had shown some interest in pursuing a career in the FBI herself…despite a less-than-positive attitude about the events of the last year concerning her mother’s interrupted retirement.
Still smiling, Kate took her phone into the bedroom and snapped a quick picture of Michelle. She sent it to Melissa and then, after some thought, she also sent it to Allen, only his had the message: Partied out!
She found herself wishing he was there with her. She found herself feeling this quite often as of late. She was not naïve enough to think she loved him, but she could see herself falling in love with him if things kept going the way they were. She missed him when he wasn’t around and whenever he kissed her, it made her feel about twenty years younger.
She found herself smiling yet again when Allen responded with a picture of his own. It was a selfie of him with two younger men who looked exactly like him—his sons, presumably.
As she studied the picture, her phone rang in her hands. The name that appeared on the screen sent a flurry of excitement through her that she was unable to stop.
Deputy Director Vince Duran was calling her. This would have caused a stir of excitement regardless, but the fact that it was after eight o’clock on a Friday night set off alarm bells in her head—alarm bells that she enjoyed the sound of.
She took a moment, still staring at little Michelle, and then answered. “This is Kate Wise,” she said, keeping her excitement in check.
“Wise, it’s Duran. Is this a bad time?”
“It’s not the absolute best, but that’s okay,” she answered. “Is everything okay?”
“That depends. I’m calling to see if you’d be interested in taking on a case.”
“Are we talking a cold case like we’ve been discussing?”
“No. This one…well, it looks and feels like one you cracked rather quickly back in ninety-six. As it stands, we’ve got four bodies at two different sites in Whip Springs, Virginia. Looks like the murders occurred no more than two days apart. Right now, Virginia State Police are running the scene but I’ve spoken to them. If you want the case, it’s yours. But you’d have to move now.”
“I don’t think I can,” she said. “I’ve got a commitment I need to keep.” Looking at Michelle, this was easy to say. But nearly every nerve in her body fought against her newly acquired grandmother instincts.
“Well, listen to the specs anyway, would you? The murders are married couples, one in their early fifties, the other in their early sixties. The most recent were the fifty-somethings. Their daughter discovered their bodies when she came home from college earlier today. The murders occurred within thirty miles of one another, one in Whip Springs and the other one just outside of Roanoke.”
“Couples? Any link between them other than they were married?”
“Not yet. But all four bodies were cut up pretty badly. The killer is using a knife. Making it slow and methodical. As far as I’m concerned, it points to another couple going down within two days or so.”
“Yeah, it sounds like a serial in the making,” Kate said.
She thought back to the case in 1996 that Duran had mentioned. In the end, a crazed woman who had been working as a nanny had taken the lives of three couples within the span of just two days. It turned out that she had worked for all three of the couples within a ten-year period. Kate had apprehended the woman when she was on the way to kill a fourth couple and then, according to her testimony, herself.
Was she really going to say no to this? After the intense flashback she’d had today, could she truly pass up another opportunity at stopping a killer?
“How long do I have to think about it?” she asked.
“I’ll give you an hour. No more than that. I need someone on this now. And I thought you and DeMarco could work well on it. One hour, Wise…sooner if you can.”
Before she could give an OK or a thanks, Duran ended the call. He was typically warm and friendly, but when he did not get his way he could be very irritable.
As quietly as she could, she went to the bed and sat down on the edge. She watched Michelle sleeping, the gentle rise and fall of her chest so slow and methodical. She could clearly remember Melissa being this small and had no idea where the time had gone. And that was where her problem sprung from: she felt that she had missed so much of her life as a mother and wife because of her job but she felt a strong duty to it nonetheless. Especially when she knew that she could be out there right now, doing her part to bring a killer to justice.
What kind of a person would she be if she turned the offer down, leaving Duran to choose another agent who might not have the same skillsets as she did?
But what kind of grandmother and mother was she being if she had to call Melissa, telling her to come pick up her daughter early and end her night out because the FBI had come calling again?
Kate stared at Michelle for about five minutes, even lying down next to her and placing her hand on the baby’s chest just to feel her breathe. And seeing that little flicker of life, of a life that had not yet learned about the kinds of evil that existed in the world, made the decision much easier for Kate.
Frowning for the first time that day, Kate picked up the phone and called Melissa.
***
Once, when Melissa was sixteen, she’d snuck a boy into her room late at night when Kate and Michael were already asleep. Kate had stirred awake at some noise (which she later found out was likely someone’s knee hitting the wall in Melissa’s bedroom) and went up to investigate. When she opened her daughter’s door and found her topless with a boy in her bed, she had thrown him off the bed and screamed at him to get out.
The fury in Melissa’s eyes that night was dwarfed by what Kate saw in her daughter’s stare as she buckled Michelle into the car seat at 9:30—just a little over an hour after Duran had called her about the case in Roanoke.
“This is messed up, Mom,” she said.
“Lissa, I’m so sorry. But what the hell was I supposed to do?”
“Well, from what I understand, people actually stay retired once they’ve retired. Maybe try that!”
“It’s not that easy,” Kate argued.
“Oh, I know, Mom,” Melissa said. “It never was with you.”
“That’s not fair…”
“And don’t think I’m just pissed because you cut my one night to relax short. I don’t care about that. I’m not that selfish. Unlike some people. I’m pissed because your job—which you were supposed to be done with over a year ago, mind you—continues to win over your family. Even after everything…after Dad…”
“Lissa, let’s not do this.”
Melissa picked up the car seat with a softness that was not present in her voice or her body’s strained posture.
“I agree,” Melissa spat. “Let’s not.”
And with that, she walked out of the front door, slamming it behind her.
Kate reached out for the doorknob but stopped. What was she going to do? Was she going to continue this argument outside, in the yard? Besides, she knew Melissa well. After a few days, she’d cool down and would actually listen to Kate’s side of the story. She might even accept her mother’s apology.
Kate felt like a traitor as she picked up her cell phone. After she’d called Duran, he informed her that he’d planned on her showing up for the case anyway. As it stood, he had someone from the Virginia State Police lined up to meet with her and DeMarco at 4:30 in the morning down in Whip Springs. As for DeMarco, she had left DC half an hour ago with an agency car. She’d be at Kate’s house sometime around midnight. Kate realized she could have easily kept Michelle until the originally planned on eleven o’clock and avoided the confrontation with Melissa. But she couldn’t dwell on that now.
The suddenness of it all had taken Kate slightly off guard. Even though the last case she had taken had seemed to come out of nowhere, it had at least had some sort of stable structure to it. But it had been quite a while since she had been assigned a case at such an hour. It was daunting but she was also very excited—excited enough to be able to momentarily push Melissa’s anger toward her to the back of her mind.
Still, as she packed a bag while waiting for DeMarco to arrive, a stinging thought pierced her. And it’s that right there—your ability to push everything to the side for the sake of the job—that caused so much trouble between the two of you in the first place.
But that thought too was easily pushed to the side.
CHAPTER THREE
One of the many things Kate had learned about DeMarco during their last case was that she was punctual. It was a trait she was reminded of when she heard a knock on her door at 12:10.
I don’t remember the last time I had a visitor this late, she thought. College, maybe?
She walked to the door, carrying her single packed bag with her. Yet when she answered the door, she saw that DeMarco had no intention of just rushing out to drive to the crime scene.
“At the risk of seeming rude, I really need to use your bathroom,” DeMarco said. “Chugging two Cokes to stay awake for the ride was a bad idea.”
Kate smiled and stepped aside to let DeMarco in. Given the speed and urgency Duran had instilled in her during their phone calls, DeMarco’s abruptness was the kind of unintentional comic relief she needed. It also made her feel comfortable to know that even after almost two months apart, she and DeMarco were picking back up on the same comfort level they had shared before parting ways after the last case.
DeMarco came out of the bathroom a few minutes later with an embarrassed smile on her face.
“And good morning to you,” Kate said. Maybe it was because of the caffeine intake, but DeMarco did not seem any worse for the wear, apparently not fazed by the early hour.
DeMarco looked at her watch and nodded. “Yeah, I suppose it is morning.”
“When did you get the call?” Kate asked.
“Around eight or nine, I guess. I would have left earlier, but Duran wanted to make one hundred percent sure you were on board.”
“Sorry about that,” Kate said. “I was babysitting my granddaughter for the first time.”
“Oh no. Wise…that sucks. I’m sorry this is screwing with that.”
Kate shrugged and waved it away. “It’ll be fine. You ready to get going?”
“Yeah. I fielded a few calls on the way over while this was being managed by the guys back in DC. We’re scheduled to meet with one of the guys from Virginia State PD at four thirty at the Nash residence.”
“The Nash residence?” Kate asked.
“The most recent couple to be murdered.”
They fell into step together back toward the front door. As they made their way out, Kate turned the living room light off and picked up her bag. She was excited about what might lie ahead, but she also felt like she was leaving her home rather irrationally. After all, just a few hours ago, her two-month-old granddaughter had been snoozing on her bed. And now here she was, about to drive straight to a murder scene.
She saw the standard bureau sedan parked in front of her house, right along the curb. It looked surreal, but also inviting.
“You want to drive?” DeMarco asked.
“Sure,” Kate said, wondering if the younger agent was offering the role as a show of respect or because she simply wanted a break from driving.
Kate got behind the wheel while DeMarco pulled up directions to the location of the most recent murder. It was in the town of Whip Springs, Virginia, a little hole-in-the wall town situated at the base of the Blue Ridge Mountains just outside of Roanoke. They spent only a little time on small talk—Kate filling DeMarco in on how it felt to be a grandmother, while DeMarco remained mostly silent, mentioning only yet another failed relationship after her girlfriend left her. This came as a surprise, as Kate had not pegged DeMarco as being gay. If anything, it showed her that she really needed to spend some more time getting to know the woman who was more or less her partner. Punctuality, she had picked up on. Homosexuality, she had missed. What the hell did that say about her as a partner?
As the crime scene drew closer, DeMarco read over the reports that Duran had sent them pertaining to the case. As she read them, Kate kept looking for any traces of the sun breaking the horizon but saw none.
“Two older couples,” DeMarco said. “Sorry…one in their late fifties…so no offense.”
“None taken,” Kate said, not sure if this was DeMarco’s weird attempt at humor.
“At first glance, they appear to have nothing in common, other than location. The first scene was right in the heart of Roanoke and this most recent one was no more than thirty miles away, in Whip Springs. There appear to be no signs that the husband or the wife were the preliminary targets. Each murder was gruesome and a little overdone, indicating that the killer enjoys it.”
“And that typically points to someone who feels that they have been wronged by the victims in some cases,” Kate pointed out. “That or some twisted psychological craving for violence and bloodshed.”
“The most recent victims, the Nashes, had been married for twenty-four years. They have two children, one who lives in San Diego and another who is currently attending UVA. She’s the one who discovered the bodies when she came home yesterday.”
“What about the other couple?” Kate asked. “They have any kids?”
“Not according to the reports.”
Kate mulled all of this over and for reasons she could not grasp, found herself thinking of the little girl she had passed on the street earlier in the day. Or, rather, the flashback that little girl had spurred up in her mind.
When they arrived at the Nash residence, the horizon had finally started to catch some of the light from the rising but still absent sun. It peeked through the tree line that surrounded most of the Nashes’ yard. In that light, they could see a single car parked in front of the house. A man stood propped against the hood, smoking a cigarette and holding a cup of coffee.
“You guys Wise and DeMarco?” the man asked.
“That’s us,” Kate said, stepping forward and showing her ID. “Who are you?”
“Palmetto, with Virginia State PD. Forensics. I got the call a few hours ago that you two would be taking the case. Figured I might as well be here to hand off what I have. Which, by the way, isn’t much.”
Palmetto took one final drag from his cigarette and tossed it to the ground, snuffing it out with his foot. “The bodies have obviously been moved and there was very little evidence found anywhere. But come on inside anyway. It’s…eye opening.”
Palmetto spoke with the emotionless tone of a man who had been doing this for quite some time. He led them up the Nashes’ sidewalk and onto the porch. When he opened the door and led them inside, Kate could smell it: the smell of a crime scene where a lot of blood had been spilled. There was something chemical to it, not just the coppery smell of blood, but of recent movement and people with rubber gloves looking over the scene recently.
Palmetto turned each light on they made their way into the house—through the foyer, down a hallway, and into the living room. In the bright glare of overhead lights, Kate saw the first splotch of blood on the hardwood floor. And then another and another.
Palmetto led them to the front of the couch, pointing to the bloodstains like a man simply confirming the fact that water is indeed wet.
“The bodies were here, one on the couch and one on the floor. It appeared that the mother was killed first, probably from the cut to her neck, although one did seem to land pretty close to her heart, but through the back. It’s theorized that there was a struggle with the father. There was bruising on his forearms, some blood coming out of his mouth, and the coffee table had been knocked askew.”
“Any early ideas on the time that passed between the murders and the daughter discovering them?” Kate asked.
“No more than a day,” Palmetto answered. “And it was probably more like twelve or sixteen hours. I’m sure the coroner will have something a little more concrete at some point today.”
“Anything else of note?” DeMarco asked.
“Yes, actually. It’s a piece of evidence…just one single piece.” He reached into the inner pocket of his thin jacket and pulled out a small evidence baggie. “I kept this. Got permission, so don’t get all spooked. I figured you’d want to take it and run. It’s the only evidence we found, but it’s pretty unnerving.”
He offered the clear plastic baggie to Kate. She took it and eyed the contents inside. From what she could tell, it was a simple piece of cloth, about six-by-three inches. It was thick, blue in color, and had a fluffy texture to it. The entire right side of it was stained in blood.
“Where was this found?” Kate asked.
“Stuffed into the mother’s mouth. It was pushed deep down there, almost down her throat.”
Kate held it up to the light. “Any idea where it came from?” she asked.
“No idea. Looks to be just a random scrap.”
But Kate wasn’t so sure. In fact, her grandmother’s intuition started storming to the front. This was not some random piece of fabric. No…it was soft, it was light blue, and looked to be quite fluffy.
This was part of a blanket. Perhaps a child’s security blanket.
“You holding any other surprise evidence for us?” DeMarco asked.
“No, that’s it out of me,” Palmetto said, already heading back for the door. “If you ladies need any help from this point on, feel free to give us a call at the State PD.”
Kate and DeMarco shared an annoyed look behind his back. Without having to say anything, they each knew that the term you ladies had pissed the other off.
“Well, that was brief,” DeMarco said as Palmetto gave them a noncommittal wave from the front door.
“Just as well,” Kate said. “This way we can start looking the case over with our own eyes, without the influence of what anyone else has found.”
“You think we need to speak to the daughter next?”
“Probably. And then we’ll look into the first crime scene and see if we can find anything there. Hopefully we’ll find someone who’s a bit more sociable than our friend Palmetto.”
They headed back out of the house, turning off the lights as they went. As they headed back outside, the sun finally peeking out from the edge of the world, Kate carefully placed what she thought was a scrap of a child’s blanket into her pocket and could not help but think of her granddaughter sleeping under a similar blanket.
Walking toward the sun did nothing to suppress the chill that crept through her.
