The Forsaken (11 page)

It wasn’t long before a medic was brought in to examine Jerome’s almost unrecognizable face. There was lingering around Jude and soon judgment. But he looked up at his accusers, his hands stained with another’s blood, and said nothing. How close was he? How far?

Before Mike could fire off a lecture, Jude walked out of the gray room to wash the red off his hands.

14

IT WAS LIKE BEING
born. Each movement his body made was a first footstep. Every breath became a midnight cry.

He looked down at her with pleasure and wiped her lips with a cloth. Her soft, milky skin was now a frosty glow reflecting the dim light of the apartment. Just moments ago she was taking him in, pressing her mouth into his, moaning rough melodies where his name became the chorus. But now, she was so quiet.

Slowly, his hands lingered above hers, kissing at last. He glanced down at his fingertips. He didn’t see any prints. It had become so much easier. Maybe he really was dead. The hands he lavished hung limply over the edge of the mattress where he had stolen her last aching moments. Cracked fingernails and a broken wrist were all that was left. Her blood dripped from her wombless center. The crimson blemishes soaked deeply through the fabric and the sheets, and soon the red drips wandered off the bed and onto the floor.

“You sleep so silently now,” he said, grinning. What should have been loss or grief forming tears in his eyes instead was traded for heartbeats of satisfaction. This dose of pleasure was his test subject, and, though lifeless, she would be studied by him one last time. Her skin was perfect, even dead. This tainted city flower still seemed to have some of its petals. Her two eyes were turquoise gems that in this moment knew only one direction. They were trapped, staring horrified at the ceiling. He imagined such pretty things often getting her what she desired.

He breathed. She didn’t.

He moved his violent instruments over her breasts and neck. A satisfied breath escaped his mouth and drifted over her. It was a well-done goodbye. The kind she always deserved. Outside there was a world, but it could not see what he’d done. It could not see his mutilated masterpiece or how he salivated at the sight of the portrait he had created. It would only be a short while before the confused audience found her, as he wanted.

He let go of the blade, her blood almost dry on the tip. It felt so pure.

His body suddenly began to fade, breaking apart into tiny particles that were easier to move, easier to remain hidden. It wasn’t happening
to
him, something strange and without his control. He
caused
his body to splinter. Pieces of his flesh and skeleton disintegrated into dust. The fade allowed him to drift undetected, unknown, untraceable. It was effortless to move in shadows. Soon, his entire shape changed, and he became like wind, like forgotten breath, slipping through the floorboards of the apartment stairway.

15

“THAT DIDN’T GO AS
bad as it should’ve,” Rachel remarked, following Jude out of the station. It was just after eight o’clock p.m.

“Easy for you to say. The chief didn’t label you a bipolar misfit with a God complex.”

“Yeah, he did say that, didn’t he? Well, beats suspension. Someone like you should be grateful.”

“Grateful?” Jude said, trying to flex his bandaged hands. “I’m tired of that stupid threat looming over my head. I’ll be grateful when I catch the lunatic who started all of this.”

“Something tells me this is about more than just retribution.”

Jude found ease in hesitation. As they walked in the direction of his car, he managed to look back a few times, convincing his mind it was to make sure she wasn’t following too closely. But really it was to see how her eyes reflected in the dark, the colors of the night bouncing off her hair and face.

“I want to catch him, that’s all,” he lied.

“I get it. But hear the chief out on this. He’s not some nut on a bender. You lost control in there, like, seriously. You can’t deny it. Any other cop would’ve gotten canned. Mike may not believe in many things, but it’s obvious he still believes in you.” She paused. “I mean, think about it. If we didn’t stop you, I’m afraid what might have happened. You might have sent him to the morgue.”

“I had to act. I didn’t lose control.”

“You sure?” Rachel replied. “You didn’t see the look on your face. You didn’t stare into your eyes. I did. He cares about you. You and I both know that if the commissioner…If most anybody else saw what went down in that room tonight, you would’ve been erased altogether, and no one would’ve lost any sleep, trust me.”

“I had to get answers,” Jude fought to convince her. “I had to know what he wanted.”

“And beating him within an inch of his life, that was the only way? How’d that work out for you? Did you get what you wanted?”

“Don’t stand there like some disapproving stepmother. This isn’t some hick town with neat politics. Playing polite with the scum doesn’t get you very far.”

“We’re police officers. We’re supposed to be different.”

Jude walked faster. He didn’t want to hear this, any of it. “Wake up, Rachel. The only thing that separates a cop from a crook is a badge,” he groaned.

“Where do you find the strength to harbor so much hate and discontent?”

“Stay awhile,” Jude said. “You’ll become like me.”

“Like hell I will. I have a job to do. We can’t go around beating people’s brains in because it makes us feel good. And simply because we need some information doesn’t give us the right—”

“
Give us the right?
What world do you live in? Take a look around. God bent over and crapped this place out, left it here to rot. No one gives us the right to do anything. We do what we have to and take what we need. To survive.”

“Survival or no survival, you can bet on one thing, everybody’s gonna be watching your next move. So be careful.”

“I can handle it, thanks.”

“Can you?”

The night clothed them with new shades of confusion. A slight wind breezed through, and it caused Jude to shiver some.

“It bothered me,” Rachel continued. “Seeing you like that in there really bothered me. I’ve seen people lose themselves. In their work, in their mistakes, in the bad. It isn’t friendly. It doesn’t have to be that way.”

“Please, that idiot’s threats didn’t scare me.”

“Nothing scares you, right?” she asked, annoyed. “You’re invincible.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Jude stood in the street. It was hushed around them. He could hear the drip of water leaking into the sewer line fewer than five feet from where he was. Old rain bled through the cracks and the holes. “Anyone can break. I’ve seen it too, but I’m not your father.”

Rachel’s arms dropped to her side. She gently stroked her weapon then drew her hands to her chest. She was wounded or embarrassed, maybe both.

“Sorry,” Jude tried, seconds later realizing how cruel he’d come across.

“Forget I ever said anything,” she answered before turning back toward the station. “You’re too strong, aren’t you? Too strong to feel judged or to feel anything at all. I’m sorry for you.”

“Which hospital did they bring him to?” he asked, completely numb to every word of venom she had just spit out.

“St. Mary’s!” she yelled.

Jude unlocked his car door and sank into the seat, but for a long moment he didn’t start his engine. Part of him, a very small part, wanted to apologize for how callous he was. He knew if Father Eliam could see him now, he’d be shaking his index finger at him like he was a bad dog who just dropped a load on the living room rug. He wanted to be sorry, really, to feel sympathy or any of those butterfly kind of feelings, but he wasn’t. It wasn’t like he expected her to understand that, only to accept it.

There wasn’t time to indulge in conscience and petty notions of the heart, especially with someone as stalwart and correct as Rachel Sutherland. She was right, about it all. He knew that. She hadn’t yet been corrupted, though. She had her black-and-white convictions. It was quite the miracle she’d lasted so many years without falling into the cracks. Very few could say that. He wondered if eventually time would turn her too.

He slid his key into the ignition and prepared to gun the engine. The chief suddenly darted outside like a madman toward his car. His cell phone was in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other.

“What is it?” he asked when the window was rolled down.

Mike paused for what felt like an eternity. Something terrible waited at the end of it. Something Jude wasn’t sure he was ready for. There was an almost pitiful look in the chief’s eyes.

Discomfort and confusion pulsed through Jude’s body. “Mike, what happened?”

“There’s been another murder.”

Jude cursed. “Where?”

“A few blocks down,” Mike said, scratching his forehead. “It’s your brother’s apartment. Whitney’s team is looking for him now. They’re going to arrest him.”

It was impossible. It couldn’t be. Jude turned the key, and his Chevelle roared to life. He had to get to the apartment before the others. He had to try, even if it might already be too late. There was no time to question whether his brother was guilty or innocent.

He sped down the street, praying the latter was true, now more than ever.

16

KEVIN WAS NOWHERE IN
sight. The apartment seemed the same as it was yesterday.

Jude had driven around the block a few times before entering. More than a dozen police personnel were already rummaging through his brother’s things. Jude was frustrated more than afraid.

He breezed by the warm bodies like they weren’t there and stepped underneath the yellow tape. Immediately, his eyes were drawn to the mattress at the center of the open room. He knew the girl lying there. She was the same makeup-covered siren he’d seen perusing this apartment and taking a shower a day earlier. Images flashed and dissipated. He stepped closer. She was soaking in her own blood from a stomach wound, small, rosy puddles like tortured ripples spreading on the floor. A look of unholy dread lay trapped inside her face; that stuck out the most. And her eyes seemed to beg silently for a second chance.

Jude dared to get closer and inspect the body, but a firm hand stopped him suddenly. “What do you think you’re doing?” It was Whitney.

Jude switched from slightly hostile to blatantly aggravated. “Whitney, tonight’s no night to get under my skin. This is my brother’s apartment.”

“And this is
my
crime scene. My investigation. You wanna mark your territory, go do it someplace else.”

“We’ve had our differences in the past, but I’m warning you, back off! If Kevin’s somehow connected to the events of the last few days, I need to talk to him before your crew gets inside his head.”

“So is this you protecting your little brother, or is it legitimate concern for the new case?”

“What difference does it make to you?” Jude snarled. “He’s my flesh and blood.”

“I’m not getting into a territory debate. We don’t know if the murders are connected yet. The chief put me here to handle this. Your plate’s already full. So move along.”

Jude felt a pinch in his spine. “Just let me talk to Kevin first. If he’s involved…He’s my family.”

“Yeah, my heart bleeds for ya, champ. But in case you’re blind, he just became my lead suspect. You got your party. Now I got mine.”

“You are such a child. Think about it. The murders are so close. It’s too much of a coincidence, don’t you think?”

“I don’t believe in coincidences. The only thing that’s clear to me is that your brother is gonna pay the toll like everybody else. Always knew Kevin had it in him.”

“Shut your hole, Whitney, before I shut it for you.”

“Come now, Foster. Why waste your time attempting to analyze this sick dog?” Whitney wore a smug grin. “Why don’t you get back to your little nest and catch a breather? You don’t look so hot, man.”

“Spare me,” Jude hissed through his teeth.

Whitney leaned in closer and spoke in a low whisper, “I’m so sorry, but you’re going to have to watch me take him away. I think I’m really gonna enjoy it too.”

Jude raised his fist to take a swing, but Whitney reacted and managed to stop him from unleashing a wild blow. “Nasty temper problem you got there. Seems your brother got his twisted side from somebody after all.”

“I know him,” Jude said. “He didn’t do this.”

“Oh, that’s where I think you’re wrong. You see, all this right here is pretty damning evidence. Knife, blood, a hooker with a hole in her gut. Kevin’s gonna swing, and we’ll tie the noose.”

Jude would’ve broken his jaw. He wanted to fight, to make Whitney squeal like the miserable swine he was. But he held back.

He skulked around the apartment. The last thing in the world he wanted was to sit this one out. He pretended to be busy, but both eyes remained on Whitney and everything that took place in that open room. He despised the way Whitney took charge, like he was some kind of spoiled child who’d finally seen the favored brother get punished.

After keeping quiet for ten minutes, Jude shouted an order. “Check her body, all of her. There may be a cross-like symbol someplace. Something imprinted or burned into her skin.”