In His Sights (6 page)

Belatedly he realized that Tonio had introduced him, and everyone was waiting for him to wave or something.
He did, and was gratified at the kids' happy faces. Somehow that made wearing the stinky costume, not to mention feeling like a giant ass, worthwhile.

The presentation wore on, and Chris did his job, walking around some but mostly standing off to the side while Tonio outlined crime prevention and how to get help in case of emergency.

And as the hour wore on, Chris began to get hot. Dizzy.

The familiar nausea began to build in his stomach, the feeling of lead weighing his limbs. It was getting harder to breathe. Casually, he made his way to the side, where he leaned against the wall, but that didn't help much.

If he didn't get some air and sit down, he was going to pass out.

Pushing off the wall, he waited until Tonio paused to have the teachers pass out the bookmarks before approaching and tapping him on the shoulder. Tonio turned, a question in his eyes.

“Tell them Valor has to leave,” he whispered.

“What? Why?”

“Just tell them . . .” Spots encroached on his vision. “I'm about to hit the floor, man.”

Tonio's expression mirrored alarm, which he quickly masked. “Go, I'll take care of the rest.”

“Thanks.”

“Kids, Valor has to go fight crime now,” his partner said loudly. “But why don't we all wave good-bye to him and show him how much we appreciate him being here today?”

The man was good, he'd give him that much.

The students waved, calling out their good-byes with enthusiasm, and he waved back until he'd exited the cafeteria. Then he staggered down the hallway, rounded a corner, and ripped off the costume's head, letting it hit the tiled floor. Leaning against the wall, he wiped the sweat from his face and struggled to pull the cool, fresh air into his lungs.

“Chris?”

Struggling to appear normal, he straightened and faced Robyn, who was bearing down on him with rapid steps and worry etched on her pretty face. His dignity was officially shredded. Stopping in front of him, she pushed a lock of sweaty hair off his forehead and then felt the skin there with the back of her hand.

“I saw you leaning against the wall, and then you left so suddenly. I was worried,” she said, voice soft.

“Oh, it's just this damned suit. This thing is way too hot and I had to get some air. No worries.”

Not swayed, she took his wrist and held it between her fingers for a few seconds. “Your pulse is racing.”

He mustered a grin. “That's because of you, gorgeous.”

Letting go of him, she huffed a laugh. “Right. You never quit, do you?”

“I don't know the meaning of that word.” He took a deep breath. “In fact, I was wondering if you'd thought about—”

Just then, Tonio rounded the corner carrying the leftovers of their materials. “Hey, are you—? Oh. Didn't mean to interrupt.”

Damn his timing!

Robyn eyed Tonio, offering him her hand. “Hello, I'm an acquaintance of Chris's. We're neighbors.”

“Oh?” He shook her hand, glancing between them.

“I'm also a doctor, actually. I know he hasn't been well, and I was just checking on him.”

“Not feeling well? Is that so?” His partner shot him a pointed look.

“Isn't there something called a HIPAA law?” he muttered.

“You're not my patient,” she shot back. “That makes me simply a concerned friend.”

“Friend?” That perked him up. Now they were getting somewhere.

Whatever she might have said was cut off as the phone in his jeans buzzed. Stifling a curse, he slipped off the suspenders and dug around in his suit until he snagged the device.

He glanced at the display and then to Tonio. “It's Rainey.” Punching the button, he answered. “Hey, Cap.”

“You two done playing Wonder Dog? I've got a ho- micide with your names on it.”

His adrenaline kicked into overdrive as he fumbled in his pocket for his notepad. “Address?” He scribbled as the captain rattled it off.

“I know you two are backed up, but from all appearances this one started as a burglary. Seems the victim may have surprised the intruder.”

“You think it's related to the other break-ins?”

“That's what we pay you the big bucks for. Go find out.”

“Yes, sir.” Ending the call, he jumped around, kicking off the suit before gathering it. He looked at Robyn with real regret. “I'm sorry, that was our captain. We have to go.”

“Oh.” She seemed to deflate a little. “No problem. I'll talk to you soon?”

His heart lightened. “I'll look forward to it.”

He and Tonio hurried from the building, not bothering to sign out. Once they were in the car and on their way, Chris told him what little he knew.

“We caught a homicide. It appears the victim surprised an intruder.”

“That's why you asked Rainey if it could be related to our burglaries.”

“Yeah. It might be a stretch.”

“Or not. Guess we'll have to wait and see.”

Tonio followed the directions to the address Chris loaded into the GPS, and soon they were parking in front of a nice home in a newer neighborhood. A couple of uniformed officers were waiting, and had stretched yellow crime scene tape around the perimeter of the yard and driveway.

One of them was young Officer Jenkins, or “Jenk” around the station, who had had his homicide cherry popped a few weeks earlier when he'd responded to a call at a motel and ended up with a murder victim. That had turned out to be Shane and Taylor's case, the one that had caused Chris to crash the surveillance van and almost get himself killed.

Jenk didn't seem any happier now than he had back
then. “Hey, guys. Brace yourselves, it's a real fucking mess in there.”

“Never saw a pretty murder,” Tonio said shortly.

Jenk flushed. “Just sayin'. Anyway, we're still waiting on the ME.”

Chris nodded. “All right, we'll be careful.”

He and Tonio donned latex gloves and pulled covers over their shoes. Then they made their way inside, where Chris saw that Jenk was right—the house was a disaster. At least the living room was. Lamps were on the floor, smashed, as were picture frames, books, magazines, and various knickknacks. A fight had taken place, and every item in the battle zone had fallen victim.

The
real
victim was sprawled in the middle of the mess on the living room floor, next to the mangled coffee table. The man appeared to be about seventy years old and was wearing jeans and a polo shirt. He was lying in a huge pool of blood that spread from his abdomen, head turned to the side, eyes wide and sightless.

Chris looked around. “I don't see a murder weapon yet.”

“Me, neither. Could be underneath his body. We'll have to wait for Eden.”

Walking into the kitchen, Chris examined a stack of mail, all addressed to the same man. “Edward Burke. He's got junk, bills, and a social security check. His wallet is on the table.” Picking it up, he examined the contents carefully. “It has more than a hundred dollars cash inside.”

“So, assuming nothing else is missing, it would appear that robbery is not the motive.”

“Seems so, which is weird.”

“Right? Why break in if not to steal something?” Tonio frowned as he took in the scene.

“Reminds me of what Mr. Fell told us about the burglary at his home. Front entry in broad daylight, items moved slightly but nothing taken.” Retracing his steps to the open front door, Chris examined the doorframe and was gratified to see deep gouges in the wood.

“Bingo. Our perp jimmied the door.”

Tonio pointed to a couple of items on a side table that had survived the scuffle. “This picture and the figurine beside it were moved. See the dust?”

He walked over to examine them. “Yep. What the hell is he getting out of this? And why commit murder over a simple break and enter? Why not just run away when he heard the owner come home?”

“Beats me. But we're gonna find out when we bust his ass and toss him in prison.”

A search of the rest of the house turned up zilch. As they exited to stand on the front porch, Jenk hurried, waving an arm.

“We found something back here you'll want to see.”

Curious, Chris followed. The other officer, Troy Hillman, was already there, standing next to a grassy patch beyond the borders of the yard. When Chris drew closer, Hillman pointed to a slender object on the ground.

It was a small glass vial with a rubber top and a tiny hole for a needle to be pushed into, the kind one might find in a doctor's office. Crouching, he saw it was almost full of clear liquid. Rolling it gently with a latex-covered finger, he saw there was no label.

“Over here, too,” Jenk said, hitching a thumb.

A few feet away from the vial was a syringe. The cap was still on, and unlike the vial, there was nothing in the reservoir. Chris speculated out loud. “Doesn't look like it's been used. Wonder if our suspect dropped these. Could be he broke in the front, crept around doing whatever he does, was surprised by the home owner, and they fought. He killed the victim and fled around the back, dropping these.”

“It's as good a theory as any,” Tonio said. “The vial and syringe might shed some light on what his game is.”

“Or they could add more questions.” Chris sighed. “Let's bag 'em.”

Tonio pulled a couple of baggies from his pants pocket and sealed them separately. By the time they'd walked back to the front, Medical Examiner Laura Eden and the department's forensics unit were on-site doing their thing. Chris and Tonio went inside the house again to watch Eden work, asking her questions now and then but staying out of her way.

After she'd cataloged all of the evidence she could get from the body—at least until she did the autopsy and further tests—she gestured for them.

“Help me roll the body, and we'll take a look at the wound.” She waited until Chris and Tonio were positioned on opposite sides of the dead man before nodding. “Now.”

They rolled him over carefully, and then stood back to let Eden work. The woman was a machine, a brilliant scientist who missed nothing, and most everyone Chris knew admired her. She was real easy on the eyes, too, though Chris had never been interested her in
that
way.

She cut the polo shirt away and hummed, peering at the wound. “Knife wound, large blade, very sharp. See the edges here?”

Chris's stomach got a bit queasy, and he marveled at how she could remain so clinical. Some guys joked about her icy calm, but Chris believed she really could eat a sandwich while performing an autopsy, if she were ever inclined to be that unprofessional.

Tonio spoke up. “So, our vic wasn't shot.”

“Nope.”

“And he fought like Mike Tyson,” she observed, picking up one hand to study it. “He did some damage to these knuckles, and to whoever was on the receiving end of them. Tough old guy, and in pretty good shape for a man his age. Too bad the killer fought dirty.”

“Yeah.” Poor bastard.

“Wonder if he's former military, or law enforcement?” Tonio speculated aloud.

Chris gestured toward the kitchen. “I saw an envelope from the American Bar Association on the table, addressed to him. Could be a lawyer, if our victim is Edward Burke, that is.”

There wasn't much more to do except get the victim loaded and let the crime scene techs do their thing. After Eden had taken the body and gone, he and Tonio watched the techs work for a while, then made their exit.

“Something doesn't sit right about this whole thing,” Chris told his partner. “The burglaries, and now a dead guy. We have a few giant pieces of the puzzle missing, and this feels more disjointed than usual.”

“And when we put them together, the solution will be so obvious, we'll be kicking ourselves.”

“Maybe so.” He eyed the other man. “Sounds like you have some experience in that area.”

“More than I'd like.”

Chris waited for him to elaborate on that cryptic statement, but let it alone when he didn't. As much as he wanted to know more about his partner, he'd respect the man's privacy.

His thoughts drifted back to Robyn and he wondered whether he'd ever hear from her again. And whether he should stop walking by her house.

No
. If she wanted him to back off, she'd have to tell him to his face.

Satisfied with that plan, he focused on feeling better. One hour at a time.

It had to get better.
Worse
was a scenario he didn't want to think about.

*   *   *

The young man huddled in the corner of his room, terrified.

Dried blood coated his hands, and was starting to itch. But he wrapped his arms around his knees and made himself small. Maybe small enough to disappear?

But no. They'd find him. They always did, and there was hell to pay then. Always.

They'd make him cry and there was nobody who cared. He wanted to be held, to be safe, but he was ignored. Left to suffer alone and bear the brunt of their wrath. To scream while the blows rained down and the demon took off his belt. Made him beg and scream more.

“No!”

The sharp sound of his own voice had him looking around, frantically searching for
him.
But
he
was long gone and the boy was left in the here and now, with nothing but his broken mind for company. The fear and the anger. The knowledge that he hadn't deserved this, and they all needed to pay.

Nobody had helped him. Not a single one of the
caring professionals
who were supposed to save kids from monsters. Not the principal, the teachers, the counselor, the lawyer. Not the doctor, next-door neighbor, or countless others who should've stepped in. Not even the cop.

Especially
not him.

Dad cracked open the door and talked in soft, persuasive tones to the cop as he crept closer, heart pounding in his thin chest. This was it, the moment he'd been praying for. After the latest beating, he'd finally summoned the courage to call 9-1-1.