Fractured (4 page)

“All right.” Grasso punched a key on his computer. “We have a national database for this sort of thing, and yes, I know you've already accessed it, but let me type in some keywords like ‘university.' Your younger guy from last night could be a student. You might ask the president of the university, who I assume is very unhappy to have a vicious murder happen on campus. Give him a call and ask him to send the faculty a message to watch for a young male student who stops showing up for class. It's a long shot, I know. Half the students do a lot of work online and some of the classes are so large they couldn't possibly know who is there or not, but worth a try.”

“I thought of that too. Good idea.”

He shot her a glance. “What else—anything at all—did they have in common?”

“The professor and our potential squatter? Nothing I know of, but again, the second victim is unidentified.”

“If he is truly indigent, that could take a long time.”

“Unless he's committed a crime, yes. His fingerprints are being run.”

“You aren't giving me much to go on, Detective.” His tone was sarcastic.

“That's because we don't
have
much.” She was well-aware of the challenges.

From behind her a familiar drawling voice said, “We have this.”

She swiveled to see Santiago, pretty much his usual self, with a leather coat over a blue shirt, a knit tie, and worn jeans to complete the ensemble. But his blue eyes were compelling as always. It was pretty early for him to be in. He handed her a piece of paper that had a handwritten note to Chief Metzger.

All pathology reports not in so the autopsy isn't final, but I can say with certainty the knife used in the murders was not what the killer used to make the cross wounds in the chest of each victim.

It was signed by the chief medical examiner, which meant she'd done the autopsy herself probably due to the heinous nature of the attacks, and Ellie was glad because she thoroughly trusted her competence. If there was a detail that might help them, Dr. Hammet would find it.

“Kind of strange, eh?” Santiago perpetually seemed to need a haircut and when he ran his fingers through the curly strands in a habitual mannerism, it made him either fashionably disheveled or looking like maybe he forgot to even comb it.

What he needed was a girlfriend to point him at the nearest barbershop, but they had much bigger problems than his unruly hair. Ellie said slowly, “I can't imagine stopping in the middle of a brutal crime and switching weapons. One knife to kill the victim and make them unrecognizable, and another to leave some sort of symbolic message?”

Grasso speculated, “Something to do with the clergy? Maybe you have a religious fanatic on the loose. Maybe your professor of biology taught Darwinism and the perp doesn't want to hear we crawled out of a slimy sea millions of years ago.”

“Yeah, well, I'd rather picture two people getting it on in a garden myself, but I wouldn't kill anyone over it. Dammit, I'm starving and I need coffee. This is a police station. Surely someone around here has a donut or something.” Santiago walked off, leaving Ellie still studying the piece of paper like it held the answer to their problem.

Maybe it did.

“There does seem to be a clear message, but the latest victim … I don't know. Whoever he is, I doubt he's a biology professor.”

“If he was a student maybe he witnessed the university crime?”

“Possible I suppose, but it would have been nice of him to come forward. Peterson was killed a month ago.”

“The question I would ask is, did he have something to hide?”

That was a
very
good question. Ellie said moodily, “If only we knew who
he
is.”

“If he had information, you know law enforcement would ask him his address. That could be his motivation to keep quiet. If our speculation is right and he was trespassing, then he
did
have something to hide.”

A good point. Ellie thought about it on the way back to her desk. However, if that was all true, how did the killer find him?

Too many questions, she thought with an inner resignation, and too few facts.

*   *   *

Jason was never
happy to be called into Metzger's office. Usually it involved a raised voice—not his—and a scathing reminder that while he was one of the department's best detectives, he was also a pain in the ass.

This time the nuance was slightly different and he didn't like that either.

Not one bit.

The chief was an ex-marine, a big buff man with cropped hair and a perpetually serious expression, and there were premature furrows on his forehead and by his mouth. Jason had no actual idea how old Metzger was, and he sure as hell was never going to ask.

“Sit down.” Metzger pointed at a chair in front of his cluttered desk with a pen and his voice was curt.

“Am I in trouble?” Jason stood there, feeling a flicker of dismay.

“Sit down, Detective.”

“Fuck me,” Jason muttered under his breath, obeying by sinking onto an uncomfortable wooden chair. Out loud he said, “I can't even guess how I could have done anything wrong lately, Chief. I'm casting back and coming up with nothing.”

Metzger wore a suit that made him look fat when he wasn't at all since every inch of him was solid muscle. “What happened last night?”

“There was a murder. I called MacIntosh and we responded. We had no ready witness or real evidence, but we are digging deeper. Goes without saying.”

“Not good enough.”

“I just said—”

“Santiago, shut up. Just tell me what happened after that body was found.”

He knew better than to say it, but he did it anyway. Being argumentative was one of his greater faults and he had quite a few. “That's kind of a contradiction. I can't shut up and still tell you what happened, and besides, what are we talking about? The murder? I haven't even had time to turn in a report and we don't have all the ME stuff and—”

“The governor's niece.”

It was hard to come up with an answer because he was taken so off guard. Jason stared at the chief. “Excuse me? I could swear you just said something about the governor. I didn't touch his niece.” He lifted his hands. “Got a bible? I'll swear on it.”

Metzger barked out a laugh, and he didn't do that often. “Santiago, if you touched a bible, it would burst into flames.”

A possibility about the instant combustion, but still, he was pretty much in the dark. “Then what is the actual question?” He added cautiously, just in case he
was
in real trouble, “Sir.”

“I understand you witnessed an accident last night, apprehended the pedestrian who was trying to flee the scene, and in general are somewhat of a hero in all the right high places. I can't quite believe I am saying this, but in short, you made us look good for once.”

The pretty brunette was the governor's niece? That explained her expensive car and cashmere coat. She came from a pretty prominent family. Jason shrugged. “She didn't mention it, so until you just told me, I didn't know who she was.”

“She sure as hell mentioned you to her father, who told his brother-in-law, and in case you haven't noticed, the governor is on a campaign against reckless cell phone usage causing traffic accidents.”

He'd seen the billboards and commercials. “Well, before you pat me on the back, it was more that the whole thing really pissed me off. The guy caused two cars to crash into each other and wasn't even going to check and see if anyone was hurt. He knew it too. He's lucky I am a police officer, because otherwise, I might have—”

“I get what you might have done. He says you manhandled him.”

He'd known that shove had been a mistake. “Look”—he pinched the bridge of his nose for a second—“the sleazebag was just going to walk away. For the record, I was just guiding him back to the scene. Not a bruise on him, and I swear on my badge I kept my language clean and fairly respectful.”

“You referred to him as an asshole.”

“He
is
one.”

Metzger crossed his arms and sighed. “All right, he does sound like one. By the way, the man you caught is an executive at a software company, and he's claiming you threatened him and wants to sue, but luckily, the governor is way on our side on this one and his niece is a witness. I just got off the phone with the mayor. Our ass is covered.”

“That's good news. With all due respect, I've never had much of a yearning to see your bare ass, sir.”

“Very funny. You just dodged a bullet. Keep it in mind.”

It actually
was
good news, which Jason could use. It was nice to catch a break for once. He'd spent quite a bit of time last year recovering from being shot in the line of duty. He'd sunk so low as to watching women's golf on ESPN, bored out of his mind as he waited to be released by his doctor for active duty again. “I'm humbly grateful it turned out well.”

“Yeah, well, that feeling is mutual, Detective.” It was impossible, but Metzger looked amused for the second time. In one day. A first. “I hope you have a good suit, Santiago.”

What the hell does that mean?
“Why?”

“The governor would like to meet you.” Metzger spread his hands. “Look, you and MacIntosh have solved some pretty high-profile cases, you've been shot on two different instances in the line of duty, and you apparently made an impression on the man's niece. I understand you took her home in a cab, paid for it yourself, and made sure she got inside safely, and you even called her mother for her.”

“That cab cost me twenty-five bucks. I don't suppose the department will reimburse me, will it?” he said flippantly, joking. The young woman had been so shaken that when he offered to go with her, she'd looked pathetically grateful.

“You are going to dinner at the governor's mansion. Expect an invitation, and since I already know the answer to my question, go out and buy a nice suit. For God's sake have MacIntosh help you pick it out. She's going to be your date. He wants to meet her too.”

No. No way
. If there was more than a single knife and fork on the table, he was not socially up to it. His father's idea of a gourmet dinner had included cans and a rusted pan, and he wasn't much better. “Shit. Chief, come on, I don't want—”

“And don't forget a nice tie.” Metzger reached for his phone. “That's all, Detective. Our little discussion is over. Dismissed.”

To say he was unhappy when he left the chief's office was an understatement. Jason passed two uniformed officers in the hall with only an absent nod and found that MacIntosh was at her desk, a frown on her face as she typed something on her computer. Her blond hair fell in a smooth curtain by her cheek and she swept it back and tucked it behind her ear.

Jason watched the feminine movement with involuntary fascination, standing by the side of her desk, which was much more organized than his. Then mildly, he said, “You want the bad news, or the bad news?”

She glanced up, her expression resigned. “I've been waiting for it. What have you done now?”

“What? Does the entire station know I was called into Metzger's office?”

“Of course. High school hallways don't have a thing on this place. What did you do?”

He couldn't resist playing with her a little. “The governor's niece.”

Ellie's eyes widened in consternation. “You slept with the governor's niece?”

“Slept? Well, no. Sleeping implies something pretty friggin' different than what happened when I took her home last night.” He lifted his shoulders in a negligent shrug. “Besides, she didn't tell me who she was.”

Misleading, however not one lie so far. He'd taken the person in question home, politely left her at the door once she'd unlocked it, and gone home in the cab he'd called for them at the scene. All the perfect truth.

His partner misinterpreted that, which had been his intention, but to his surprise, totally stood by him. “That's not against the law if she is a consenting adult,” she said stoutly.

“She consented.”

“Then Metzger is out of line. He should know you better than that.”

Jason grinned but it turned to a grimace and he told her the truth. “Sorry, I was just trying to be funny. Nice to know you'd have my back, but I really didn't sleep with anyone.”

“What on earth are you talking about then?”

He told her as quickly as possible, glossing it all over, including his discussion with the chief. “I just thought I'd warn you that it might be possible that you'll get dragged into the situation.”

She looked perplexed. “Me? How so?”

“Yeah, well, the governor remembers the past year and he found out you're my partner. I'm told we're both invited for tea and crumpets or whatever the hell it is they eat.” Jason wasn't any more enthusiastic about it than she looked, so he changed the subject. “Hey, do we have the ME's full report yet on the latest victim?”

 

Chapter 4

Dr. Georgia Lukens liked her office. Soothing colors on the walls, some nice artwork hung here and there, an outrageously expensive carpet on the polished floor, and two doors, one to let the people come in from the waiting area and another one to allow them to exit discreetly. There was no couch, but instead two upholstered chairs because she did do some counseling that involved more than one patient at once, and a Tiffany lamp she'd inherited from her aunt on her desk.

Since she spent eight hours a day at least in the space, she was glad she found it soothing, because quite often, the problems of her patients were not.

Not that all of them were disturbing. She dealt with a lot of neuroses that were simple enough—a lack of confidence, a tendency to hold onto possessions for security, irrational jealousy, buried memories that might or might not be real, but every once in a while it got interesting.