Detective Partners (17 page)

"I'm a big boy," Galen said. "I can take it. Do you want me to come to the hospital?"

"No," she responded. "You have
work
to do and I'd rather be alone right now."

"All right," he said. "I'll drop by in the morning and check on you. If you need to talk, you can call me.
Any time."

"Thank you, Galen."

"You're welcome." He said goodbye and hung up.

C
hapter  17

Galen got out of the car, shut the door, and made his way across the street. He stepped onto the sidewalk and moved toward a small group of women that was standing on the corner. They were dressed in similar clothes, skintight dresses that were too short and left very little to the imagination. Wishing that he had Nicole with him so he wouldn't have to deal with them alone, Galen braced himself for what was to come.

One of the women saw him approaching and told her friends. They turned their heads and looked at him. "Hey sugar," a fake blond said. "Are you looking for a good time?"

"No." Galen stopped in front of them. "I'm looking for some answers."

"You're a cop, aren't you?" a red head asked.

"I am." He watched as a few of them began to fidget. "You're not in trouble. Relax. I just want to ask you a few questions."

The blond smirked. "It's going to cost you big boy and we're not cheap."

Galen arched an eyebrow. "Is that right?
How much?"

"Twenty dollars."
She grinned, "
each
."

He whistled. "You weren't lying when you said you weren't cheap. I have a better idea. Why don't I take you ladies down to the station and you can answer my questions there?"

"Ask your questions," she sneered.

"Thank you." Galen reached into the inside pocket of his suit coat and brought out a photograph of the victim. He showed it to the women. "Do you know her?"

"That's Sheena Braden," the red head muttered.

Galen retrieved his notebook and pen from his pocket. He wrote down the name. "When did you see her last?"

"Last night," the blond mumbled. "A john picked her up around midnight. She never came back. We just assumed she stayed the night with him. Why are you asking about Sheena?"

"She was found in an alley this morning," Galen said gently. "Her throat had been slashed."

The red head's heavily made up eyes grew wide and she gasped. "I - I had a bad feeling when she got into his car that something was going to happen to her."

"You all are taking chances when you get into a strangers car," he told them. "You never know what you're dealing with." He sighed heavily. "Did anyone get a good look at the man?" They all shook their head no. "What about his car? Can you describe it for me?"

"It was black and had tinted windows," the red head said. "I think it was one of those Honda Accords can't think of anything else."

Galen finished writing the information in his notebook. "I'm going to tell you ladies now. There is a man that goes by the name 'Judas'. He is mentally disturbed and extremely dangerous. According to him, prostitutes, drug dealers, rapists and murderers are demons that need to be destroyed. It is important that you keep your eyes and ears open. If you see the
car again try
and get the license plate number." He passed out his business card. "Call me with any information you have. I don't care if it's two o'clock in the morning." He put the photograph along with his notebook and ink pen back in his pocket.
"And last, but not least.
Stay safe. I don't want to find myself standing over your lifeless body."

"Are you done asking your questions?" the blond asked coolly. "If you are then leave us alone. You're keeping us from working."

"I'm done." Galen wished them a good night and then walked away.

"I called this meeting so we could go over what information we've gathered," Parker told the team as he slid into his chair. "Since it's going on-" He checked his watch, "one a.m. I want to keep this brief. When we're done here, I want you all to go home and get some sleep. We need to be sharp and at our best if we're going to stand a chance of finding the sick bastard. Someone start talking."

"Marsh and I called the mental institutions in the area," Renfro said. "No one has escaped or been released within the last two years." She grimaced. "Sorry, boss. That's all we've got."

"That's all right," Parker assured her. "It's a start."

Galen cleared his throat. "While you were calling mental hospitals I was talking to a group of prostitutes. The victims' name is Sheena Braden. The ladies saw her get into what they think was a Honda Accord around midnight. All they could tell me was that the car was black with tinted windows. They couldn't tell me what the man looked like, which given that the windows were dark I'm not surprised. I gave them my card and told them if they see or hear anything to call me."

"Lopez and I spent some time going over the cold cases to see if there were any similarities to the case we're working on," Brown said. "We didn't come across anything with religious overtones. Of all the cases we looked through only a handful of them involved a knife and the victims' were stabbed in the torso, not slashed in the throat. All we got out of it were some nasty paper cuts and a lot of dust."

"I got the results back from the lab." Parker ran a hand through his all ready disheveled hair. "There were no fingerprints on the letter or envelope. The envelope was free of any traces of saliva. It looks as though our boy, Judas, is being careful not to leave any DNA behind."

"Speaking of DNA," Galen said. "Have you heard anything from Dr. Cain about our victim?"

"I talked to her earlier," Parker told him. "The victim showed signs of having had intercourse recently. Seeing as how she was a
prostitutes
, I'm not shocked. No DNA was
foun
just traces of latex from the condoms the johns wore. Judas again is being careful. He didn't leave any fingerprints or strands of hair behind. Therefore, we have nothing, but a letter, a victim, and a lot of unanswered questions."

"We've been here before," Renfro said. "We'll catch the sick bastard. We always do."

"Yeah, but how many more people are going to die before we do?" Galen muttered. No one answered him.

"Go home people," Parker told everybody, after a tense filled moment of silence. "Get some rest."

"I might be a little late coming in, sir," Galen said, rising from his chair. "I want to stop by the hospital and check on Goodwin."

"Take your time," Parker replied. "If something happens I'll call you."

Galen hoped that nothing happened.

Later that morning found Nicole sitting up in bed. The TV was on and she was watching the local news, which wasn't an easy task with only one eye. She had to focus more and had a headache as a result, but then her aching head was nothing compared to the rest of her body. She felt as though she had been hit by a runaway truck. Lack of sleep only made her feel worse.

Nicole heard the door open. She turned her head and saw it was Galen. "Good morning," she
croaked,
her voice rusty from hours of not using it.

"Good morning." He closed the door and crossed the room to the bed. "Did you sleep well?"

"No." She pressed a button on the bedrail, shutting off the TV. "I couldn't get comfortable."

Galen unbuttoned his suit coat and sat down in the chair next to the bed. "Were you in pain?"

"A little, but it was more that the bed was uncomfortable than anything." She stared at him. He looked handsome in his dark suit, white dress shirt, and striped tie. She knew she looked like a mess with her tangled hair and rumpled hospital gown. Feeling self-conscious all of a sudden, she ran a hand through her hair. "Tell me about the new case. I need something to stimulate me."

"All right."

Nicole listened intently as Galen filled her in on the case. "This isn't good," she muttered once he was finished. "More innocent people are going to die."

"You can't call rapists, murderers and drug dealers innocent," he said. "They have done evil things."

"True," she said, "but this man has no right to judge these people and he for damn sure has no right to take their lives. He's not God." She shifted slightly and winced in pain. "How do you feel about what he's doing?"

"Personally, it wouldn't bother me if he put down a few murderers or rapists. It would be a few less monsters running around destroying lives."

"Killing a murderer or rapist is letting them off too easily," she said. "It's not punishing them for their crimes. It's just putting them out of their misery. They should spend the rest of their miserable lives rotting in a cell." She rubbed her forehead and grimaced. "This Judas is a hypocrite. He's the very thing he's seeking to destroy. He's a murderer killing his own kind, but then he's too crazy to realize that."

"Is your head bothering you?" Galen asked softly.

"Yes," Nicole sighed. "The nurse gave me something a little while ago. It just hasn't kicked in yet." Uncomfortable, she shifted again and swore under her breath as her body protested the movement.

Galen got to his feet and moved behind her. "Lean forward for a minute." She did as he instructed. He picked up her pillow, fluffed it, and placed it behind her again. "Sit back." She sat back against the pillow.
"How's that?"

"Better," she mumbled. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Nicole gazed at him. He was close, so close that she could see he had a tiny scar on his left temple just below the hairline. Her gaze moved to his full lips and her heart skipped a beat. She quickly looked away and swallowed hard. There was no way she was going there. There was no way she was going to let herself think about what it would be like to kiss him. He was her partner and that was all he would ever be. Quickly, she tried to think of something to say that would distract her from her wayward thoughts. Her father came to mind. "Does everybody know that my father did this to me?"

"No." Galen returned to his chair. "Officer Stevens and I are the only two that know about your father. I told everybody that a stranger attacked you. I figured it wasn't my place to tell them about your father. If you want them to know then you can tell them. If you don't then it will stay
between Stevens and us. You can trust him to keep quiet. He's not the kind of person that goes around blabbing things."