First to Die (3 page)

"She looks like you," Jason said in his matter-of-fact way.

I shook my head and stared at him. "Really? Have you lost your mind?"

"No, blue eyes and auburn hair."

"Her eyes are clouded over."

"Her ID's over there." He pointed at the dresser.

"Stop trying to scare me." She did look like me, but I wasn't going to admit it. Unsettling was a good word for it.

"I'm not, just making an observation."

I stepped back to catch my breath, but it was sucking the life from me and dragging me deep into the infernal regions of hell. I’d had to rein in every ounce of strength that I had to enter this place. These guys think it’s easy. It’s not. It’s not something I ever got used to. It’s difficult to maneuver with the hard skin that accumulates around your emotions, and I could already feel another layer creeping up, forming quickly over my body in another protective barrier.

I pulled the voice recorder from my inside pocket and started to detail the scene along with the CSU from Dane County. They looked like a bunch of archaeologists, dressed in full body white suits and fancy purple gloves. Scraping, brushing, probing, collecting, and bagging the evidence. I heard the thunder roaring in the background and thought that it was the perfect soundtrack for the gruesome scene. I was waiting for some high-pitched screams to filter in for the final scare effect.

I sent Neville to find and interview anyone who could provide a lead. Jason and Chief Daniel Hayes were glued to my side as we watched the team work. She'd been here at least three days, maybe four, I heard the tall onesie say. That would take us back to Wednesday. They continued to snap pictures and bag evidence.

"Detective Kelly," filtered from a masked face and motioned for my attention.

"Yes." I waved my arm in the air and moved closer.

"I'm finished over here for now. Want to see the writing?"

I walked over as he lifted the sheet and pointed to the words that covered her body. Rows of words were carved on her torso, arms and legs. I could see muscle and tendons, deep lacerations, and other random cuts and abrasions, I'm sure for the arousal and thrill. "It's not postmortem. Same as the Mason girl, she felt every bit of it," he said with the absence of any emotion.

“Shit.” I leaned in to get a closer look at the new set of words.

My eyes were burning. Floodlights were behind me and my body blocked my focus. I was trembling from the instant drop in body temperature again while trying to keep my composure with all the people crowding around. I wiped my eyes and stared at the words that traveled around her body like a serpent.

Watch me now, feel the pain

As I deliver them from shame

One by one, souls will die

Beneath the ruins with unheard cries

I clenched my teeth and wondered how many girls he was planning to butcher. One was more than enough. "Are there any other marks, anything different than the last one?" I asked. "Afraid not." He returned to his probing and collecting. I didn't want to watch anymore. I didn't understand what he was trying to tell us. I must have missed the Creative Murder class in college. I don't remember seeing it during registration. Bastard.

The words were hitting me hard, knocking me back to reality, burning my face with each slap. Our already fragile walls were starting to crack and tumble down. I could hear the gurgling deep in my stomach, creeping up to choke my next breath. What was I thinking, staying here? I could run in any direction and find a small sleepy town to hide in. At the time I hadn't realized the ramifications of living and working in the same place. The crime rate had become slightly manageable in the last few years and I’d regained some kind of normalcy in my life. Felonies, misdemeanors, typical aggravations of gangs and dealers trickling in from the main drag, but there was nothing that was as horrific as this and I wasn't prepared.

The fire and rescue team and news crews all gathered in their rightful circles behind the intimidating yellow boundary tape. Absolute mayhem. This was savage and anyone could be next. I felt a tingle move from the base of my neck and travel around my body. I knew from the telephone call this morning that Riverview would never recover from this. I shuttered and tried to shake off the thought.

Chapter 4

I
stepped back into the shadows of the crowd and knew that a vicious storm was heading our way. He wasn't going to stop at two. How many more until we found him? Every minute that passed was a minute closer to the next kill. What I wanted was a cigarette. What I wanted was a drink of something strong enough to numb the shock and the wounds that were opening up again.

I scanned the scene for Chief Hayes and he was nowhere to be found. Hopefully, he was back at the station with Cole and Billy Randall, our only possible witness. Billy might have noticed something that he didn't think was relevant. If he wasn't too drunk to see. Tonight was not the first time that he’d wandered the streets in the middle of the night. He did it all the time. There had to be something that he would remember if he was sober enough.

I hadn't noticed that Jason had followed me outside and into the dark. He towered over me from behind, with his bull horn of a voice, lips pressing on my ear shouting over the generator. "Sam." I knew for sure that he had busted my eardrum and shook me off balance and down to the ground.

"Shit," I yelled, and glared at the giant. "Help me up!"

His six foot four, two hundred and forty pound body whipped me up like a feather. I landed, feet firmly on the ground, my available arm circling to balance. I tried to brush the dirt and humiliation off but I could feel the bristles of a brush blending a dusty shade of red into my face.

"I'm sorry," Jason said with his usual sexy grin. He was always saying I'm sorry, but I often wondered if he knew the definition of the word. How many times can someone be sorry about something if they are always up to no good? And I was close enough to know he was possessed by the devil. The words constantly rolled over his perfectly shaped lips like a waterfall plunging into a pool of raging water. He seldom pulled his games on me. I never let him get away with it. I knew too much. More than I needed to know. My best friend and the crush that I'd had since he shoved Lance Baker to the ground for hitting me with a spitball in third grade. The typical bad boy, the only kind I liked, and the only one that I didn't dare to have.

"Come on, Sam, I didn't mean it." He lowered down to my eye level.

"Knock it off." I narrowed my eyes at him. "I need to think."

"You've been avoiding me for a week."

"You're like a head on collision, impossible to avoid."

"You're doing a damn good job of it," he said. "What's the problem?"

"I've been busy." I used one of his favorite lines.

"Bullshit." His laughter echoed through the trees.

"This really isn't a good time to talk about your stalking abilities.”

"You're right, but will you please answer my calls?"

"Of course I will," I said, looking at the ground and drawing N O in the dirt with the point of my boot.

"Good, I'm going to make friends with the neighbors." Glancing back at me, he slipped through the darkness like a thief and disappeared into the crowd. He had my heart and didn't know it. I wasn't sure how I was going to get it back and I wasn't sure if I wanted it back. The Jason roller coaster. It was frightening. I wasn't sure that I had the guts or stamina to the stay on the ride long enough for the two-minute thrill. I also had no desire to end up as a flavor of the week.

The wind was blasting my face and turning it into a crimson rose. Random thoughts of the past pounded my head like a rubber mallet—hard enough to hurt but padded enough to only bruise my flesh. I reached up and rubbed my head. The morning hours proved that working and living in Riverview would break me. I turned away and walked toward the fire rescue vehicle that was parked on the hill. I needed something to keep me warm. I needed a place to think. I needed this to go away. All eyes were watching me, everyone was asking questions.

"Detective Kelly, can we get a comment."

"Detective, are we dealing with the same killer?"

Ivy Knox shoved the microphone in my face. "Sammy, what happened?" She was the only one who called me that. The only one that I let get away with it. She'd been doing it since we were kids.

"No comment." I glared at her.

"Fine." She stuck her perfect nose in the air and stepped back.

I felt like a character in a horror movie running in the wrong direction. Tears lined my face in some obscured map and I didn't want anyone to see me this way. I was supposed to be hard and tough and playing the role was taking its toll. I wasn't. Not tonight. Not ever. I swept the tiny rivers off my face and wondered if I could sweep this under the rug with the rest of the shit that I had accumulated through the years.

I sat on the back bumper of the fire rescue vehicle and lit the cigarette that I’d stolen from Neville and drank a cup of coffee delivered from a concerned citizen. It was good, but somebody’d forgotten to add the Irish Cream. I needed a good kick in the pants. I felt safe on this particular side of the line, a barrier of strong, compassionate men and women that would always protect me. We are always taken care of by our community and it wouldn't be long before the pastries and bagels arrived to fill the hungry bellies.

I wrapped myself with a prickly gray blanket with the embroidered lettering, RFD, a proud symbol of the dedicated members of the department. The color was appropriate for the gloomy morning that was rolling in and covering us with a sense of desolation. The sun would not be showing its face today and there would be no mercy for us, no mercy for our girls.

I waited patiently for the scene to be processed and thoughts of the needless deaths and torture strained my concentration. It had only seemed like a few minutes after I’d wrapped myself in the itchy cape when Dr. Dominic Fastiggi, Dane County’s Chief Medical Examiner, had walked over to me. Tall, dark and disturbingly handsome. Perfect for the occasion. Confident and comfortable with the dead.

“Detective, we’ve cleared the scene,” he said in an unworldly voice. “I’ll get the report to you as soon as possible.”

"Thank you. Do you have a TOD?"

"Probably closer to four days, but I'll have an accurate time once I get her on the table."

"Cause of death?" I gritted my teeth.

"Looks the same. Sharp object to the heart, but he put her through hell first. I'll know more in a few days. You coming to the autopsy?" He smiled an evil grin.

"Absolutely not. I won't make it through the Y incision."

"You made it to the brain last time." He winked at me. "Before hitting the floor." His laugh was haunting, and I could hear his saw revving up in my head.

"Evil doctor,” I said. “You know I have a weak stomach." It was true. Stinky things made me sick and dead bodies had a habit of making me light-headed.

"Yes, you do." He kicked the dirt around. "Don't be a stranger. We need some entertainment over there." He turned on his heels and walked away. He lifted his arm into the air and waved back without turning around. The wind lifted his long, black jacket into the air and he flew into the darkness. Satan entered my mind.

"Boo." Neville jumped at me from behind.

I looked around to see if anyone had heard me scream. "There's seriously something wrong with you, Jackass." I raised my hand to my heart. "Who does that?"

He laughed "I couldn't help myself. You're a chicken shit."

"No, I'm not," I protested, and then joined in unison with his contagious vibrato.

"Everybody knows that you're afraid of the dark."

"Where do you come up with this stuff?" I rolled my eyes. "I'm not afraid of the dark, I'm afraid of little monsters like you that feel the need to scare me every chance you get. One of these days, somebody’s gonna get shot. Let's see who's laughing then." The sound of a hyena came from Neville’s mouth and I threw in a few snorts for good measure. "Asshole."

"Okay, enough. I can't take it." He managed to calm himself down. "Where's your boy?"

"Stop saying that. He's not my boy." I shook my head. "He's off bothering the neighbors and looking for any witnesses."

"There are none."

"Of course not." I nodded my head in agreement.

"Come on, let's hit it. I need a coffee."

"Get out of here. I'm walking back."

He pulled his keys from his belt and headed to his car. "Okay, be that way," he shouted back.

Everyone had cleared the scene except for me. Each department had settled back to their respectful quarters. Ivy, I was sure, was already blasting the morning viewers with, "You heard it here first," sending the locals into a tailspin. She had a way with words.

I stood at the scene, asking myself questions and actually expecting them to be answered. I was looking for the same answers as everyone else and I would have to answer them all. I had run so fast from my past that I had not realized that I was heading full circle. I was right back where I’d started.

The walk to the station would be brief. I stood at the top of Main Street and looked at the view of downtown. It was breathtaking and welcoming, but it now symbolized something eerie. Something distorted. Abstract. I stared at the welcome sign as I made my way down the abandoned street. Riverview. The place where people come to play. The place where people come to die seemed to be more appropriate for the destination.