Murder 42 - A Thriller (Sarah King Mysteries Book 2) (11 page)

22

Stefan had landed just before ten in Phoenix and found his car in short-term parking. He turned it on and found a Pandora station on his phone for David Arkenstone—something soft and soothing so he could hopefully lull himself to sleep with some wine tonight. In his early twenties, popping a few Quaaludes or smoking pot would’ve been the preferred method, but the Bureau performed random urine tests, and he couldn’t risk losing his job. He didn’t really know how to do anything else.

The freeways were relatively clear, and he drove with his window down. By the time he got there, he felt slow fatigue catch up to him. It always began in his head with a headache and worked its way down his neck, back, and legs. Eventually, he would have to sleep or power through it with sugar and caffeine.

His home was a condo with one bedroom and an abundance of space he could never fill. Kicking off his shoes, he grabbed a beer out of the fridge and stripped down to his underwear before flopping in front of the television. Spartacus
was on, an episode he’d already seen, but it didn’t matter. He would’ve watched infomercials at this point. He just needed some background noise while he zoned out.

The images on the video came back to him, over and over. Blood and bone and guts. The first time he’d seen something like that, he thought he could never be the same—that it had saturated him and changed his worldview. Now, it was his worldview, and the sunny, happy images and events other people saw as life were the aberration to him.

Within minutes, he was asleep. A deep, dreamless sleep. Only the feeling of coolness on his leg woke him up, and he opened his eyes to see he had spilled the beer over his leg.

“Shit.” He jumped up.

He cleaned up his couch and wiped his leg with a rag then went over to the window and looked out onto the parking lot. The stars sparkled above, and across from him in another unit, the light was on. He checked the clock on the microwave: two in the morning.

Something wasn’t sitting right, something about Naughty Nancy’s. They were clearly covering something up, but it ran deeper than that. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they weren’t just selling the video; they knew who made it. On his computer in the bedroom, Stefan logged into the secure FBI server and pulled up Jay’s home address. He then dressed and headed out the door.

Only about fifteen minutes later on the freeway did he realize that he had a sour stomach. He thought it might’ve been something he ate at first, and so he stopped at a 24-hour pharmacy.

The harsh lighting of the store made him squint, and the linoleum looked as though it’d been recently cleaned. Music was playing over the speakers, Johnny Cash, and he hummed along as he bought some Excedrin and antacid tablets.

The pharmacist was the only one there and rang him up. “You want some beer with that?”

“What?” Stefan said.

“Beer. If you got a headache, beer and ibuprofen will make it disappear in a flash.”

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to mix drugs?”

He shrugged. “Whatever. I’m just telling you what I know. Take it or leave it. Ten fourteen.”

Stefan handed him a twenty and got his change. A glass jar on the counter was collecting donations for a local girl with leukemia, twelve years old. Stefan put all his change into the jar and nodded to the pharmacist on his way out. He’d never had a pharmacist recommend beer for anything, and he wondered if that guy really was a pharmacist.

Back on the road, he took the antacid and crackled the cellophane wrapper in his hand a few times before tossing it onto the passenger seat. He waited a few minutes, but the feeling wouldn’t go away. Maybe it wasn’t physical.

He thought about the case. A violent—the most violent— piece of child porn he’d ever seen just happened to be sold out of a store that sold violent pornography, and the two weren’t connected? That seemed unlikely. There had to be a connection somewhere.

He took the next exit, merging with I-17, and then looped around heading to Scottsdale. As he drove, he thought about Sarah—a unique woman if he’d ever met one. The claim that she was a psychic came out of left field but wasn’t a deal-breaker. His own grandmother had claimed she had visions in her dreams and saw things before they happened. Who knew? Maybe there was something to it. He doubted it, though. As far as he’d seen, humanity was just another bug on a rock floating through space: nothing special.

Driving down the palm-tree lined streets, he was glad he’d been assigned to Arizona. Usually, the first few assignments an agent received with the Bureau were the worst of the worst, the ones nobody else wanted. Washington DC was a great example. Though the Bureau paid a cost-of-living expense, it didn’t come close to making up the difference for a government employee living in a big city. He’d known special agents with the FBI who had a hand in bringing down Bin Laden and yet lived in one-bedroom apartments with their families. Then again, nobody went into this for the money.

Jay Aud’s home was upscale with a pool in the back that could be seen from the side as he drove up. A twinge of envy went through Stefan as he parked. He was out here risking his life, keeping people safe, bringing some sense of justice to families, and someone selling porn and dildos lived in a place like this while he had a one-bedroom condo with broken air conditioning.

He got out and went up to the front door, taking a malicious exuberance in the fact that he could wake this man up at two in the morning, and there was nothing Jay could do about it. Stefan knocked and then rang the doorbell twice. He waited and then rang it again. An alarm beeped inside the house, and then the door opened. Jay stood there with a pistol in his hand.

“Put the gun down slowly,” Stefan said, his hand falling to his own weapon holstered on his hip.

“Easy, man. I just didn’t know who it was. It’s two in the fuckin’ morning.”

“I need to talk to you.”

“’Bout what?”

Stefan brushed past Jay and entered the home. They were standing in the atrium which opened onto the living room, with a winding staircase going up to the second floor. Out back, past the kitchen, he could see sliding glass doors with a view of a massive green lawn. Floodlights illuminated it in patches of golden light.

“You’re lying to me, Jay. We both know it.” He turned to him. “I know you just sell that shit. You don’t make it. I want the guy who makes it. And if you help me catch him, I will forget that you sold it.”

Jay shook his head. “I’ve said enough, man. Talk to my lawyer.”

He nodded, glancing around the home. “We’ll catch you eventually, asshole, and when we do, you’ll never get out of a cell again.”

Stefan left, Jay mumbling to himself as he shut the door and turned on the alarm. Stefan turned to his car and drove around the block, coming back around before parking just a bit away. He waited several minutes and saw lights going off, all except in a room on the west side of the house.

“Bingo,” he whispered, stepping out of his car.

Stefan did a quick search of the street to ensure some neighbor wasn’t watching him. The last thing he needed was somebody to take a shot at him as a burglar. Convinced no one was around, he snuck back over to Jay’s home and to the sole lighted room. It was tough to see through the blinds, but at the bottom was a gap of about an inch. Stefan peered in, and saw Jay sitting at a computer. Jay was emailing somebody; Stefan just knew it, though he couldn’t read the screen from there.

The email seemed short: taking just a few seconds to write, and then Jay leaned back and watched the screen a minute, chewing on his lower lip. A reply must’ve come a minute later, and Jay read it then turned the computer off.

Stefan noted the time: 2:12 am. He had a hunch whomever Jay just emailed had a lot more to tell them about the video than anyone they’d talked to yet. It was just a matter of finding an excuse to get inside that house.

23

Sarah sat in the car and watched California Bill’s home as they parked out front. As a kid, she’d dreamed about moving to Hollywood and living in a mansion like this. Hollywood was about as far from Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, as Mars, it seemed, and she would’ve done anything to get out and get here. Now that she was here, she wondered if dreams ever lived up to reality.

Gio got out first. She followed him up to the porch as he pounded on the door. Surprisingly, California Bill wasn’t asleep. He answered the door, reeking of pot, his eyes rimmed red as he stared blankly at the two of them.

“Had some more questions,” Gio said, pushing his way in.

Sarah stepped inside as well. The two men stood near the doorway, and she quickly crossed the living room. She wanted somewhere quiet and alone, to see if anything would happen. A cold shiver went up her back. On the far end of the living room on the couch, the same woman as before sat staring at the walls. Sarah smiled at her, but the woman didn’t respond. It was then Sarah noticed the pale skin and the black circles around her eyes.

She sat down next to the woman. She was nude.

“My name is Sarah,” she said softly.

“I don’t know where I am.”

Sarah reached out to touch her, her hand hovering a moment over the woman’s flesh. Sarah’s fingers went through her as she pressed down and touched the couch. A cold tingle went up her spine, like an icy finger.

“What do you remember?” Sarah asked.

“I don’t know where I am.”

“Look at me.”

The woman turned. Her eyes glowed, gray light now dominating whatever color had been there previously. “The bathtub,” she said softly.

Sarah rose, her eyes lingering on the woman briefly. She had tracks up her forearms. Off a hallway on the right was the bathroom. Sarah glanced in but didn’t see anything out of place. She looked back and saw Gio and Bill arguing, so she hurriedly took the stairs to the second floor and searched for another bathroom. She found a large whirlpool tub in the master bedroom. Inside, the woman lay on her back, suds drifting around her in dirty water. Her bowels had let loose, and the overwhelming scent of urine and feces filled the bathroom.

Sarah’s head began to throb as she saw California Bill and his brother arguing. They finally decided on something, lifted the girl out of the tub, and wrapped her in a rug from the bedroom. Sarah walked to the window and could see them outside, shoving the rug into the trunk of one of their cars. The two of them got into the car and drove away.

When Sarah turned back to the tub, it was empty. She caught a glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror and saw droplets of dark black blood dribbling out of her nose. Sitting on the toilet, she pinched her nose and leaned her head back until the bleeding stopped, and the thumping in her head began to slow. Then she went back downstairs.

Gio and Bill were still in the kitchen. Sarah leaned against the island there, staring at Bill.

“She was still alive,” Sarah said.

Bill didn’t say anything and Gio’s brow furrowed. “Who was?” Gio said.

Sarah kept her eyes on Bill. “She was still alive when you took her out of that bathtub. She overdosed, but if you’d taken her to the hospital she would’ve lived.”

Bill’s eyes looked as if they might pop out of his head. He took a step back. It looked inadvertent, as though he was passing out and then caught himself. He purposely took a few more steps away from her and leaned against the fridge, unable to say anything.

Gio looked from one of them to the other. “What girl, Sarah? What’re you talking about?”

Sarah stepped forward. “I can find out where you buried her.”

“How?”

“She’s here. I can just ask her. Do you want me to ask her?”

Bill swallowed and, after a few seconds, shook his head.

“What do you know about that video?” Sarah said.

He didn’t respond at first. He simply closed his eyes and opened them again, fixed on her. “Who told you?”

Sarah stepped closer to him. “Tell me what I want to know.”

He shook his head again. “You’re lying. Someone told you.”

Sarah left the kitchen and went back to the couch. The woman was still there, still staring at the same spot on the wall. Sarah stood in front of her and knelt down, smiling as warmly as she could. The woman looked terrified.

“What’s your name?”

“Heather.”

Sarah looked toward the kitchen, and both men were watching her intently. She said, “It’s nice to meet you, Heather.”

“I don’t know where I am.”

“I know, baby. I’m sorry.”

“Can I leave?”

She hesitated. “No, not yet. Tell me what happened.”

“There was a party… and I… there was a party and I was in the bathtub. And I couldn’t get out. It felt like my heart stopped, and I couldn’t get out, and I was staring at the ceiling, and then it was just dark.”

She nodded. “What did you take?”

“He… heroin. I was doing heroin, and I was in the bathtub.”

“Who gave you the heroin, baby?”

“He did,” she said, her eyes drifting to Bill.

Sarah stood up. The pain was acute, both the physical pain she felt emanating from a spot just behind her forehead, and the pain that came with the fact that she couldn’t do anything for Heather.

“You gave her the heroin,” Sarah said, approaching Bill. “When she was dying in that bathtub, you and your brother wrapped her up in a rug, and I’m guessing buried her somewhere. Maybe left her on the side of the road. That’s murder.” She paused. Her anger had risen, and her words held venom. If she was going to get what she wanted, she had to be threatening but calm. If she pushed him too far he would clam up. “Tell me about that video.”

Bill swallowed. “It’s some dude that made it.”

Gio put his hands on his hips, staring at Bill. “What dude?”

“I don’t know his real name. He made that one and then called around and gave it away.”

“How many others are there?”

“None, man. He just made the one. At least, none that I know.” Bill stared at Sarah. “How did you know all that?”

“I told you, she’s here.”

“Bullshit. My brother cracked, didn’t he? That fucking pussy son of—”

“Where is your brother?” Sarah said.

“Not here.”

“How would he have told us anything?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know, but he did.”

“How did this guy get in touch with you?” Gio said.

The spell had been broken. Sarah could see it in his eyes clear as day. Bill had convinced himself that his brother had betrayed him, so he decided he wouldn’t be helping anymore.

“Get out of my house,” he said tersely. “And don’t come back without a warrant.”

Gio’s jaw clenched and then released. He looked at Sarah as if to say,
Got anything else
? When Sarah didn’t respond he turned toward the door.

Sarah looked back at Heather. She sat quietly, staring at the same spot on the wall. Sarah hurried over to her and bent down again. “I have to go, Heather.”

“I don’t know where I am,” she said.

Sarah didn’t know what to say. She’d seen this so many times, so many people who still thought they were alive but couldn’t understand where they were or why, what they were seeing and hearing… it was a nightmare they couldn’t wake up from. She’d seen it mostly with murders and suicides, though there had been times when something could occur to bring peace to them. She didn’t ever know what that thing was and couldn’t even guess in this instance. So she just rose and followed Gio out the door.

Once outside, Gio said, “That little slip of his is enough for a warrant to search the rest of the house, but he let us in willingly. I don’t think he keeps anything here.”

“Can you arrest him?”

He nodded. “Possession of child pornography. It’s weak with just an admission that he knows who made it, but it’s enough to hold him. I need somebody from Naughty Nancy’s to say they got the video from him, but then they’d be admitting to possession of child porn. No one’s going to do that.”

“So what do you want to do?”

He looked at her. “What did you see in there exactly?”

“There was a party, and Bill gave a young woman heroin. She overdosed in his bathtub. Rather than taking her to a hospital, they rolled her up in a rug and shoved her in the trunk of his car before speeding away. I think he buried her somewhere.”

“If we can pinch him for murder, he’ll be so desperate to cut any type of deal that he’ll give up everything he knows about that video.” He paused. “Do you know how long ago it happened?”

She shook her head. “I can’t tell stuff like that. Bill didn’t look any different, not really any younger, so it was probably recently.”

“I’m going to get a warrant to search his house on the admission. I’ll drop you at the hotel.”

“No, I want to be here.”

“We’ll be working through the morning without sleep.”

“I know. I want to be here.”

He nodded. “Okay.” He reached out and held her hand as his other hand dialed a number on his phone.