Delusions With Murder: A Rilynne Evans Mystery (9 page)

Rilynne shot up, covered in sweat and shaking uncontrollably.  Her cheeks were soaked with tears when she finally pulled herself out of bed.  It was only three in the morning, but she had no desire to go back to sleep.  She put on a pot of coffee, and curled up on the couch. 

Even though she had awoken from her dreams, the knots in stomach did not decrease.  She mindlessly ran her finger across the scars on the bottom of her feet as she slowly drained her cup of coffee. 

She was not sure how long she had been setting there when she heard footsteps coming from above her.  It took a few moments for the sounds to strike her as odd.  Hartley’s apartment was still a crime scene; no one should be up there.

Rilynne crossed the room and grabbed her gun out of the desk drawer before heading into the hall.  She pulled the knob on the door to the stairs, only to find it locked.  She frustratingly threw her weight against the door, but it would not budge.  After slamming her palm on the door one last time, she turned and hurried toward the elevator.

As she turned the corner on the fourth floor, she could see the door of apartment 403 was ajar.  She quietly slid down the wall, gun drawn in front of her, as she advanced to the open door.  The police seal that had been placed on the door had been cut, and it seemed that every light in the apartment had been turned on.  She worked her way from room to room, but whoever she heard was already gone.  Although every room appeared to have been entered, nothing looked like it had been touched.

After clearing the entire apartment, Rilynne headed back to the kitchen.  The clock on the microwave read 4:16 AM.  “Great,” she said to herself aloud.  “Just what Wilcome needs, to be woken up because some moron decided to break into a crime scene.”

The phone only rang twice before the detective answered.  Rilynne couldn’t help but notice that he sounded as though he had already been awake.

“Sorry to call so early, but someone broke into Hartley’s apartment,” Rilynne stated as she let her eyes wander around the room once more.

Wilcome let out a deep sigh, but said nothing in response.

“Every light was turned on, but it doesn’t appear anything has been disturbed.  I don’t know if someone was just curious and wanted to have a look around, or if I interrupted him or her before they could do anything,” she continued.  “The window in the bedroom is open, so they could have taken off when they heard me enter the apartment.”

“Great,” he responded sarcastically.  “I’ll send a team over.  I want you to wait there until they arrive.  Let’s try to keep the scene as uncontaminated as possible.”  He hung up without another word.

*     *     *

Rilynne was sitting on the kitchen floor an hour later when she heard voices coming from the hall.  She got up and met the officers and crime scene investigators at the door.  Ben looked exhausted, like he hadn’t gone to bed yet, and Nicole looked a little shaken.  “So much for this building being safe,” she was saying to the two officers walking with them.  Despite having her makeup done, Rilynne could still make out the dark circles that had formed under Nicole’s eyes.  The fact that the current victim was taken from the same building where she lived appeared to be bothering her more than she was letting on.  Behind the forced smile on her face, there was very little of her normal cheerful, friendly-self present.

After releasing the scene to the officers, Rilynne took the stairs back down to her apartment.  It wasn’t until she reached the door to the third floor that she remembered she had been unable to take the stairs up earlier.  She pushed on the door, only to find it yet again unmoving.  She reached for a lock to open it, but found that there was not a lock on the door at all.  She gave the door a couple good pushes, but it still would not budge.  There had to be something stopping it, but she couldn’t see what.

After a few minutes of trying, she took the stairs down another floor, and rode the elevator back up.  It was just after 5:30 AM now, so she saw no point in trying to get any more sleep.

She had just stepped out of the shower thirty minutes later when she heard the doorbell ring.  She was still wrapping the towel around herself when she reached the door.  After quickly adjusted herself, she pulling the door open.

Ben’s eyes widened as he dropped the box in his hands.  “I, uh…” he stooped down to pick it up.  “I just wanted to see if you, uh, wanted a ride.  See, I’m headed back to the station now, and thought you… but you aren’t dressed.  I’ll, um, see you when you get there then.”  Ben’s eyes seemed to be fixed on the box in his hands, and his ears were redder than Rilynne had ever seen them.

“Come in,” she said quickly as she turned away so he wouldn’t see her grin.  “I’ll only be a few minutes.  Make yourself at home.”  As she moved towards her bedroom door, Rilynne saw in the reflection of the mirror hanging on the wall, Ben’s eyes move hesitantly from the box he had just sat on the table to her.  His hand moved up to his face as he dragged his knuckles thoughtlessly across his chin.  She then watched his eyes move up to hers.  As their eyes met, she felt a fire flash across her own cheeks.  For the first time, Ben did not look away.  Instead, she could have sworn she saw him grin at the sight of her blushing for a change.  This only made her cheeks burn hotter.  He was still holding her gaze when she passed the mirror and entered her room.  As she shut the door behind her, she sneaked one last look at him.  It wasn’t until their eyes met again that he finally looked back at the box he had sat down.  As the door clicked closed, the thing that really struck Rilynne was that for once, Ben’s ears had not reddened.

Rilynne turned and leaned against her door, trying to sort through what had just happened.  She rubbed her chest, which felt suddenly tighter, as she took a long, deep breath. “Get a grip Rilynne,” she said quietly to herself.  Even if she was in a place to start dating, Ben was not even an option.  After another deep breath, she shook the moment off and went to get dressed.

“So what’s in the box?” she asked Ben as she poured them both a cup of coffee.  He had been nearly asleep in his chair when she had emerged from the bedroom minutes earlier.

“The door to your stairwell was jammed.  I fished this out of the arm on the top of the door.  It looks like someone wedged it in to make sure the door couldn’t be opened.  It could be a coincidence, but since it was on the floor of the detective who happens to be working the case involving the crime scene that was just broken into, I thought I would check it out.”  Ben still had his eyes closed when Rilynne sat the coffee down in front of him.

“I don’t have to be in for an hour you know.  Do you want to lay down for a little bit?  You look like you haven’t slept at all.”  At her offer, Ben’s eyes shot open.

“No, I, uh…” he started as he picked up his coffee and took a quick drink.  “I’ll be fine,” he finished after he drained nearly half of his cup. 

Rilynne moved her mug to her mouth, just to hide the grin that was sneaking across her face.  “Are you sure?  I really wouldn’t mind.”  Again Ben’s ears reached the familiar shade of red.  Rilynne caught his eyes shift from his coffee to her bedroom door, before quickly returning again.  “No,” he replied again quickly before draining the last of his coffee and standing up.  “I really should get this into the lab to get it checked out.”

Rilynne transferred her coffee into her travel mug and followed him to the door.  As the door swung shut behind them, she quickly turned to stop it, but was too late. She cursed under her breath, trying to open it again.

“What’s wrong?” Ben asked looking both amused and taken aback by her choice of words.

Rilynne kicked the door out of frustration.  “I forgot my keys, and the door was set to lock automatically,” she explained.  She let out a heavy sigh and turned around.  “I will have to call the landlord to meet me with a spare.  You might as well go ahead without me.”

Ben flashed a mischievous grin before handing her the box and reached for something in her pocket.  When he knelt down at her door, Rilynne saw that he had pulled out a lock picking kit.  It took mere seconds for him to unlock it and swing the door open.

“Really, Ben?  I mean… really?” Rilynne laughed as she walked back into her apartment.  “I don’t know whether I should be impressed or bothered.”  She grabbed her keys from the bowl on the table and walked back out.

“I think impressed is the better of the two,” he sounded almost smug with his response.  Rilynne caught sight of his impish grin again before he turned and led the way down the hall.

“Huh,” Rilynne mumbled to herself before following him.  “Do I even want to know why you know how to do that, or why you happen to carry around a lock picking kit?”

“As a detective… no, not really.  But aren’t you glad at the moment that I do?”

“Well, yes.  Although it’s kind of scary how quick you were with it.  Makes me feel not quite as safe and secure in my own apartment,” she said jokingly.

“Afraid I’m going to break into your apartment?”

Something about the question made Rilynne’s cheeks burn again.  She was glad Ben was in front of her and couldn’t see it this time.  She was usually so good at keeping her thoughts hidden from others, but her cheeks seemed to be betraying her today.  “Why, should I be?” she asked quickly.

Ben chuckled, but remained silent.

*     *     *

“Did they find any evidence at the scene this morning?” Wilcome asked when Rilynne walked in.

“They didn’t find any prints.  The window had been locked from the inside, so they had to have entered from the front door.  There were no signs of breaking and entering, so whoever it was must have had a key.  I called the landlord, and he still has his copy of the key.  The girlfriend said she gave us the only copy she had.  She claims to not know anyone else he might have given a key to.  Nothing in the apartment appears to have been touched.  The lights in every room were turned on, but that appears to be the only thing the intruder did at the scene,” she replied.  It didn’t make sense, though, she thought to herself.  Why would anyone break into a crime scene just to have a quick look around and leave?

“Could it have been the perpetrator?” Detective Davidson asked from across the room.

“There has been no evidence of him returning to any of the other abduction sites.  Why would he have started now?” Wilcome asked.

“Maybe he’s evolving.  It could be he isn’t getting the same satisfaction out of it as he was,” Ben offered as he walked into the room.  “You should look at this.”  He was holding a stack of photos.  He laid them out across Rilynne’s desk for the detectives to see.

“What are we looking at?” asked Detective Wilcome.

“Is this the thing that was stuck in the door to the stairwell?” Rilynne asked as she picked up one of the pictures.  It was a shiny piece of metal that had been twisted and crushed, making it impossible for her to tell what it had been previously.

The detectives in the room started to gather around the desk, all trying to get a look at the pictures.  Detective Wilcome took the photo from Rilynne to examine it.  “What about your door?” he asked, looking puzzled.

“When I heard the footsteps this morning I tried to take the stairs up, but the door was jammed.  Ben found this jammed in the arm at the top of the door, preventing anyone from being able to open it.  What is it?” she asked.

Ben pulled a report out of the file that was in his hand and handed it to Detective Wilcome.  “Here is where it gets interesting.  It’s titanium and carbon fiber,” he said confidently.  Rilynne noticed that Ben seemed to have an air of coolness around other people that he did not have when they were alone.  It was times like this that she could see why he was so admired in his field.  “Titanium and carbon fiber are both materials commonly used in the production of prosthetic limbs,” he continued.  “Based on the rough edges, it looks like it has been cut off of something bigger.  It very well may have been part of a prosthetic leg.”

“And someone put that in the arm of my door to slow me down in case I heard them.  He knew I would have to take the elevator, which is louder and would have let him know when I was coming.  That’s why he had time to get out the window before I got there.  He was right there; if he hadn’t blocked the door I could have caught him.”  She threw the pictures down on her desk.  “Son of a bitch,” she muttered to herself, loud enough for only Ben, who was standing next to her, to hear.  He shot her a sideways glance that was both understanding and amusement.

No one seemed to know what to say.  Eventually the detectives dispersed, until only Rilynne and Ben remained.  “He’s taunting me,” she finally broke the silence.  “He knew I would hear him, which is why he blocked the door.  Why else would he go back?  He wants to prove he’s better than me.”

“Well, he has underestimated you then, hasn’t he.”  Ben walked out of the room without waiting for her to respond.

Rilynne grabbed the photos of the fragment Ben had left, and studied them carefully.  There had to be some kind of significance behind them.  This had to have meant something to the killer, and if she could figure out what that was, then she would be one step closer to finding him.

She closed her eyes and thought hard about the fragment. 

The sun was again shining brightly on her face.  She opened her eyes to see the familiar black birds dancing circles above her.  The sound of the water slapping the rocks was just out of sight.  Her lips were so dry, and she was so thirsty that all she wanted to do was reach the water, but as hard as she tried, she could not make her body obey.  Her eyes again were feeling heavy.  Maybe just a little nap, she thought.  But another voice in her mind was yelling at her to stay awake.  Just a little longer, it was saying, just stay awake a little longer.  Suddenly there was another sound coming through the trees.  Is it an animal?  No, the footsteps are too loud.  I need to hide, the voice was now screaming, I can’t be found!  Another sound accompanied the footprints: voices, a man and a woman.  I need to yell, the voice pushed, but as hard as she tried, she could not make herself move or make a sound.  As two dark figures appeared through the trees, her eyes could not stay open anymore.  As they shut, she heard one last thing, a woman screaming.