Black Widow (14 page)

34

On Sunday, Stanton gathered the boys and went to church. The local Mormon ward wasn’t too far; he parked and pushed the boys in, groaning. Every Sunday was a fight, but it was one he knew he could win. The boys had friends there, not to mention cute girls.

They sat through sacrament and then separated for some doctrinal classes. A woman he had been speaking to asked if he needed anything. She was single, newly divorced, and Stanton knew the pain and loneliness she was feeling right now. He asked if she would like to bring her three boys over sometime for a barbeque. She agreed.

After church, the tradition was to have a picnic on the beach and then surfing. Johnny wanted to spend the day at Dave’s house, and Stanton didn’t object. He had done a thorough vetting of Dave and his parents, running criminal history checks and background reports. They were a nice couple, but Stanton still insisted Johnny call him every hour and check in.

Mathew went off with his friends almost immediately after they’d eaten. Stanton was left alone on the sand. The day was cooler and a storm was out on the horizon. They would have to pack up soon and head home. But he wanted to give his son as much time with his friends as he could.

Stanton’s cell phone rang. It was Heidi.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hi. Listen, I’m not really good at this so I just want to talk for a minute, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I… would… I mean, I really liked last night. Spending time with you. And I would like to do it again, if you would. I mean, I know I’m mixed up in all this but I really want you to know I liked last night.”

“I did too.”

“So we can see each other again?”

Stanton grinned. “Sure.”

“Okay,” she said, relieved. “Well, that’s all. I’ll talk to you soon.”

Stanton hung up and felt foolish. He was giddy like a junior-high-school kid and he didn’t know why. He’d had dozens of relationships and been married for nine years. But somehow Heidi seemed new to him. Like he’d never been with a woman before her. The only thing he wanted to do was spend time with her.

But she was also the sister of a suspect in two homicides, at least. On a rational level, he recognized that getting involved with her was the worst thing he could do. But on an emotional level, the thought of not being alone, of having someone to identify with and share his life, was too strong. He couldn’t resist it, even if he wanted to.

Stanton allowed his boys to spend the rest of the day with their friends. At night, the three of them watched a movie,
Iron Man 3
, before heading off to bed.

Stanton lay in the dark staring at the ceiling a long time. The moonlight came through the windows for a short while before the storm finally hit the island. Rain began pounding against the glass and the doors. It sounded like stones falling from the sky.

The constant rhythm comforted him in an odd way, and he listened to it for patterns but found none. Just a random release of nature.

After the storm died down, Stanton fell into a dreamless sleep.

When he woke up, it was morning and he’d only slept a few hours. The beginnings of a migraine were already there, and he immediately went to the bathroom and got the bottle of ibuprofen. He took four with water from the sink, and then showered and shaved.

The boys were nearly ready for school, and
he saw them off before leaving. The storm had cleared the sky and left a clean, wet smell in the air. He wished he had time to take a long drive. Sometimes he would rent a Harley and zip across the island, stopping at various elevations to view the rolling green hills and rainbow-colored jungles that sprawled before him.

Before he even reached the precinct, his cell phone rang and showed a number from there.

“This is Stanton.”

“Jon, it’s Connor, man. We got a problem.”

“What?”

“Head down to the
Hailulu Hotel, man. Room 1405.”

Stanton didn’t need to ask what it was. He hung up and flipped a U-turn.

35

Stanton parked at the hotel but didn’t go in. He needed to prepare himself. A podcast was playing over the stereo, and he unhooked his iPhone and sat in silence.

The hotel was white with blue tinted windows. Several police cruisers and the Scientific Investigation Section’s SUV were out front. He got out of the jeep.

As he walked inside, several employees were gathered in a group by the doors. They were whispering and staring at the men in uniforms that were coming in and out of the building. Police tape was over the entrance. No one in or out. The uniforms would have to interview every single person in the hotel before giving a clearance that people could leave.

Stanton showed his badge and ducked under the police tape. He followed two uniformed officers to the elevators. No rooms were on the lobby floor and they got off on the first stop up. The rooms were numbered, starting with 1000, and Stanton walked down the corridor until he reached 1405. The door was open and several voices came from inside.

Stanton stepped in. He saw Jones leaning against the wall, watching a forensic tech take a blood sample from the carpet. Jones saw him and walked over.

“You ready for this, man?”

“Is it the same?”

“A few things different.”

Stanton followed him into the bedroom. Strapped to the bed was a male, young and caked in blood. His face had been peeled away and nailed to the wall above the bed. His body had been mutilated so badly, Stanton thought of ground beef, and it made him feel nauseated.

A pile of clothes was neatly folded against the wall. The scene was surprisingly bloodless. The sheets and pillows were spattered, but very little had gotten onto the carpets and walls.

“ID?” Stanton asked.

“Yeah. In a wallet in the pants. Nathan William Thomas. Twenty years old. Has a Nebraska license but an address here. Barely moved to the islands.”

Stanton took some paper booties out of a box that had been placed on the television stand. He put them over his shoes and then put on some latex gloves and walked over to the bed. The boy, even without the skin on his face, appeared youthful. He looked like he was twenty. Stanton stood quietly a long time. Jones was saying something, but Stanton couldn’t hear him. The boy had been castrated and the testicles placed at the base of the neck.

It appeared like the right eye was bulging more than the left. Stanton wondered if something had been shoved in there. A note or other object. Something to taunt the police. He bent down, a few inches away from the boy’s face.

The boy sucked in air and screamed.

Stanton jumped back, nearly toppling over Jones. Everyone in the room was frozen before Jones shouted, “Holy shit! He’s still alive. Get the damn paramedics here right fucking now. Fucker’s still alive!”

The boy began to writhe and pull at the duct tape holding him to the bed. He was in shock and frantic. Stanton wrapped his hands around the boy’s skinless face.

“It’s okay,” Stanton said as calmly as he could. “It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re going to be okay. Do you hear me? You’re going to be okay, Nathan. It’s over, and you’re going to be okay.”

The face slipped between his fingers, and he couldn’t keep the boy’s eyes on him. “Get the ambulance here now!” Stanton shouted.

36

Stanton sat in the waiting room of the hospital. Jones was next to him. Technically, they both should have been at the crime scene, helping process evidence and run leads and interviews. But neither of them could bring themselves to go.

“I
ain’t never seen nothin’ like that,” Jones said. “I ain’t
never
seen nothin’ like that.” He looked to Stanton. “Have you?”

Stanton shook his head but didn’t say anything.

It was a solid two hours before the trauma surgeon came out. He had blood on his scrubs. Stanton noticed that a tan line was on his finger where a wedding ring should have been and he wondered if he was newly divorced. He began picturing the man’s wife, the days on end she spent by herself with her husband at the hospital. He saw children…

Stanton knew his mind was distracting him. He reigned in his thoughts and focused on the surgeon’s face.

“We need to talk to him,” Jones said.

The surgeon shook his head. “Can’t do it.”

“Is he alive?” Jones asked.

“Yes.”

“Then we got to talk to him.”

The surgeon placed his hands behind his back. “Detective, if you walked into that room and startled him, he would die from shock. He’s been through more pain than you or I can imagine. I’m going to keep him sedated for as long as we can. I’m afraid
sepsis has already set in. We’ll pump him full of antibiotics and hope for the best. But I can’t let you interrogate him. I’m sorry.”

Stanton’s eyes wandered down to the blood staining the surgeon’s scrubs. “The person that did this has killed two other people that we know of. She’ll continue to do this over and over. And she
works quickly.”

“She?” he said. “You telling me a woman did that to him?”

Stanton looked up into his eyes. “She’ll keep doing it. She won’t stop.”

The surgeon thought for a moment. “I’m sorry. I’d love to help. But my obligation is to that boy. Not to your investigation. You can’t interview him while he’s in this state.”

“We could get a court order,” Jones said. “We could force you to let us see him.”

“And he might die, Detective. Is that really what you want?”

Stanton shook his head. “Please just let us know when we can see him.”

The surgeon nodded and turned away. As he walked across the waiting room, Stanton took out his cell phone. He dialed Heidi’s number and walked out to the entrance.

“Where you goin’?” Jones said.

“To find who did this.”

Heidi didn’t answer, so Stanton checked the pediatrics department. She had taken the day off today due to illness.

He jumped into his jeep and drove to her home. The sky was gray and rolling with clouds. Thunder would crackle miles away, but the sky was too obscured to see the lightening.

When he got to her house, he parked in the driveway and went to the front door. He knocked, then rang the doorbell. No one answered. He tried her cell again.

“Hello?”

“Heidi, it’s Jon Stanton. I’m outside your house. Mind opening the door?”

“Oh. Sure, hang on.”

A few minutes later the door opened. Heidi stood in a robe, her hair wet. Stanton glanced down to her feet and saw that her toenails were painted black.

“They said you were sick,” he said.

“I’m not feeling a hundred percent. What’s going on?”

Stanton waited a beat to see if she would invite him in, but she didn’t. “Do you know where your sister is?”

“No, why?”

“Don’t lie to me. Do you know where she is?”

“Jon, what’s the matter with you?”

He held her gaze a few moments. “There’s been another victim. Twenty-year-old kid.”

“Oh, no. I’m so sorry.”

He stepped closer to her. “Heidi, do you know where she is?”

“If I knew, I would tell you.”

Stanton, usually an expert at
microfacial expressions that revealed underlying emotions associated with dishonesty, couldn’t get a read on Heidi.

“Thanks,” he said, stepping off her porch.

“Where you going?”

“I’m going to find her. I can’t wait ’til tomorrow night. She might kill someone else tonight.”

“Hold on, wait. I’m coming with you. Just gimme a minute.”

Stanton stood on the porch steps. He wanted to tell her to forget it. That he wasn’t certain he could trust her. That she likely knew where Heather was. But he didn’t. He just stood there silently until she came out, dressed in jeans and a blouse.

She got into the passenger seat of the jeep just as Stanton started it. He pulled away from her house and headed for the interstate.

“Where we going?”

“To the only person who seems to know where she is.”

H1 was relatively clear of other cars and he was able to switch to the leftmost lane right away. They drove in silence a long while, and a light rain began to fall.

“Sorry, no top,” Stanton said.

“I like the rain.”

Baby Dolls appeared empty. The door was shut, and Stanton couldn’t see any lights on. He got out of the jeep and Heidi followed.

The door opened, but nobody was there. Stanton stepped inside and shut the door behind him. He walked over to the desk he’d seen Autumn at. Papers were out over the desktop, and he scanned them quickly. They were balance sheets and a list of itemized deductions.

Footsteps sounded from the stairs and Autumn walked down. She was dressed as though going to a dance, though it wasn’t even noon yet.

“Detective… I see you found her.”

Heidi looked to the floor.

“That’s not her,” Stanton said.

“Oh?”

“They’re twins.”

Autumn reached the bottom of the stairs and stood there a moment, staring. She crossed to the couch and sat down. “What can I do for you?”

“Where is she?”

“I told you, I can’t tell you.”

“I’m through playing games. Tell me or go out of business. I swear it. I’ll make it my mission that this place goes under. I’ll sit right outside and bust every john that walks in. I’ll get a tap and have cops show up to every john’s house at dinnertime. How long you think you’ll stay in business then?”

Her lip curled slightly but her voice maintained the same even tone. “And in the end, you’re no better than the Vice cops.”

He stepped in front of her. “Her address, now.”

Autumn didn’t move. She looked to Heidi, who couldn’t look her in the face. Finally, she rose from the couch and went over to the desk. Punching in a few keys, she then wrote something on a Post-it note and handed it to Stanton.

“I would appreciate you leaving now, Detective.”

Stanton turned and left, Heidi right behind him. They got to the jeep and he glanced at the address. It was a Kapolei address. He hopped back on H1 and headed west.

“Maybe I shouldn’t be here,” Heidi said. “It’ll make her think I did this.”

He glanced to her. “You have nothing to be afraid of from her anymore.”

“You can’t say that. You haven’t met her.”

Pearl Harbor was near where they were driving, and Stanton glanced in its direction. He always glanced in its direction when he drove by. It had an allure to it. All places where great evil took place did. And he wasn’t anymore immune to it than anybody else.

Kapolei was a city built over sugarcane and pineapple fields. Much like Hawaii Kai, a single person founded and built up the city. An industrialist named James Campbell.

They hopped off the interstate, and Stanton put the address in the GPS on his phone. The city was astoundingly beautiful. Bright green, with nearby beaches and resorts. Palm trees lined the roads, which were clean and litter-free.

The GPS led them to a complex of condominiums. White, with blue trim. An attendant sat at a gate with a wooden arm down preventing the jeep from entering.

“What can I do for you?” the attendant said.

“Ms. Rousseau,” Stanton said.

“Oh, yeah, hey. You forgot your pass?”

“I did,” Heidi said. “Sorry.”

“No prob.” He pushed a button and the arm started to rise. “Have a good one.”

“You, too,” Stanton said.

The condos were even cleaner than the city. Almost to the point that they looked like they’d been power-washed recently. Stanton followed the GPS to the far corner of the complex and parked. He turned the jeep off and looked to Heidi.

“You
wanna wait here?”

She shook her head. “I want to… I need to see her. To see that she’s really here.”

They got out of the jeep and walked up a sidewalk and to the building. Heather’s condo was on the top floor, and they climbed the stairs. Stanton looked out over the parking lot. No one else was around.

He knocked and they waited.

After ringing the doorbell several times, he placed his ear to the door to see if he could hear anyone inside. No noise.

“I don’t think anyone’s home,” he said.

He tried the knob but the door was locked.

“What now?” she said.

“I’m going to drop you off. Then I’m going to come back here and wait.”