Breaking the Nexus (Mythrian Realm) (3 page)

“We’re still waiting on the M.E., but he should be here soon. Some guy freaked out and started screaming something about
demons coming and the usual ‘the end is nigh!’ bullshit. Then, before anyone could stop him, he raced into traffic yelling about escaping the demons. Poor guy got flattened by a bus. It was pretty cut and dry; Tony was wrapping up when the call came, so he’ll be over any minute now.”
 

Connor nodded, examining the body from afar. His hands were tied until Tony Moreno, the precinct’s medical examiner, arrived on the scene. At least there was plenty of evidence in plain sight. His eyes took in the details, noting the cloth that had been used to cover the body. It had been so saturated with the victim’s blood and body fluids, he almost missed the embroidered design in the center. He leaned forward, trying to make out the design, positive there was something familiar about the pattern. Runes? Recognition dawned.
Son of a bitch!
It was the same damn runes he’d seen twice before. This wasn’t good.

“Marla, call up Tony and see how far away he is.” Impatience warred with the need to follow procedure. If he was right, this body would confirm he had a ritualistic serial killer on the loose. His hands itched to move the cloth. No, he couldn’t break protocol. Jumping the gun would open the door for a suspect to get off on a technicality. There had been two other cases over the past six weeks involving a burial shroud. So far, no amount of research on runes or the origin of the fabric had turned up anything solid. Something felt different today; maybe they’d get lucky with this one.

Marla raised her eyebrow at the command but nodded and pulled out her cell phone. Connor resumed his visual exam studying the body, noting the face down position, its left arm fully extended. The majority of the rest of the body was hidden by the damn cloth, so he couldn’t verify whether there were any missing limbs. He looked over to where Sha had been found unconscious, taking in the pool of blood about twenty feet from the body.

“He’s attacked over there, then dragged and positioned? The attack site is hidden behind a dumpster, well out of view. Why bother to move the body, let alone to a more visible location? Did he want it discovered sooner?”

“Talking to yourself again, Detective Flynn? That’s a sign of insanity you know.”
 

Startled from his musings, Connor glanced up to see the medical examiner. Tony was a tall man in his early sixties with brown eyes and gray hair he liked to attribute to his wild grandchildren. Not only was he a seasoned medical examiner, he was one of the best in the department. His intelligence and keen eyes had aided Connor countless times over the last ten years. If he was correct about the serial killer, there was no one he trusted more than Tony to handle the body.

“This coming from the man who talks to corpses while he autopsies them? Good to see you, Tony. Heard about the guy who lost his game of chicken with a truck.”

Tony’s lips twitched as he pulled on his gloves and began his examination. Guy never wasted time. “Just another kind of crazy. Sorry it took so long to get over here, traffic’s a bitch today. Let’s see what we have here. Marla, have you finished with the pictures?”

“Yup. I’m about to start collecting blood samples.”
 

Tony nodded then turned back to Connor. “Sounds good. Let me guess, Detective, you’re dying to peek under the sheet?”

“Always,” he replied with a chuckle. “Can you give me time of death?”

“Judging by liver temp, I would say about two, maybe two and a half hours ago. Marla, can you help me with this shroud?” He glanced at Connor. “You’re thinking this is the same guy, aren’t you?”

“Don’t miss anything, do you? Looks that way. The design on the shroud isn’t an exact match to the previous ones, but it’s consistent.”
 

Tony grunted as he and Marla carefully folded back the shroud and placed it into an evidence bag. Since he’d been the M.E. on the two previous killings, he recognized the similarities as well. As soon as the body was in full view, he gave a low whistle. “Well now, it looks like our guy has escalated.”
 

True to the prior murders, the body had been positioned with the left arm intact, while the right arm lay pressed against the body with the hand missing. What Connor hadn’t expected was the absence of feet.

Tony took out a digital recorder, clipped it to his jacket, and began his examination. “Victim is a white male, probably mid forties. Cause of death is yet to be determined. Victim’s missing both feet as well as his right hand. Wounds appear clean, perhaps made with surgical precision. Evidence of clotting indicates limbs were severed antemortem. Poor bastard.”

“Are there runes drawn on his back?” Connor wasn’t sure why he asked the question, he’d already seen more than enough. He thought of the witness, Sha Phoenix, and wondered if she could be the break he and his partner had been waiting for. Anticipation hummed through his veins at the prospect of seeing her again. Wait, where had
that
come from? He was eager to see her to see if she was the break they needed, that was all, he assured himself.

 
The medical examiner lifted the victim’s shirt, gesturing to the runes running down the spine. “Yep. Marla, can you get some shots of this?”

Something snagged Connor’s attention, an anomaly on the left shoulder blade resembling a circle with lines radiating outward. “Tony, you see that?”

“Looks like some sort of burn, but it’s not anything I’m familiar with offhand. I should have more for you after the autopsy. Gonna have a fun time ID-ing this guy; he’s missing his fingerprints.”

“Can we roll over the body?” Connor asked, scribbling notes on its condition.

“Sure, if you can give me a hand here.” Together the men eased the body onto its back. “Well after the damage we just saw this is remarkably anti-climactic. There’s no visible trauma to the face or torso.”

“Is that a note of disappointment I hear?”

“Detective Flynn? You’re going to want to see this,” one of the uniformed officers called out, standing about thirty feet down the alley. Connor waved his acknowledgement and looked back at the medical examiner. “Let me know if you find anything else, Tony.”

As he headed over to talk to the young cop, Connor considered the body. There was no doubt it was connected to the previous cases; all three bodies had been positioned in a similar manner. Each victim was a white male in his mid to late forties who was found with strange runes drawn along the spine. This time, however, the killer had escalated by removing the feet. “What have you got for me, Officer?”

“I think I may have found what the perp used to draw the runes.” The officer indicated a red permanent marker lying on the ground. “Maybe we can get some fingerprints off it.”

Connor smiled at his eagerness. “Good catch. Get someone over here to document and bag it. Hold on a second…do you have a flashlight?” Turning it on, he shined the light against the tall apartment building that made up one side of the alley, illuminating a thick, black substance on the ground. “Candle wax? What the hell is that doing here? Make sure the techs get a sample of it.”

“Yes, sir. Anything else?”

“Just keep an eye out for any other potential evidence.” Connor headed back to the mouth of the alley and spotted his partner, Ian Kendrick. Irish to the bone, Ian had fair skin, green eyes, and bright red hair no one could resist teasing him about. At twenty eight, Ian was two years younger than Connor, but they’d been in the same academy class. “Nice of you to join us, Red. What took you so long?”

“Damn traffic,” Ian replied.

Connor laughed. “Yeah, right. Admit it, you had a hot date.”

Ian grinned and winked. “I plead the fifth. Heard you bagged yourself a pretty murder suspect
and
had a hot broad trying to proposition you. I always knew you were a regular Casanova.”

“Oh yeah, I love getting hit on by older women whose voice mimics the soothing sound of nails on a chalk board. As for the wit, I doubt she’s the murderer. She was all of five foot nothing, no way she had the physical strength needed to inflict that level of brutality. Besides she doesn’t strike me as the type to be dumb enough to kill the guy, drag the body to a more visible location and pose it. She’d then have to go back, sit in a pool of blood and knock herself out just so she could be caught by the police later, making her a candidate for the world’s worst criminal.”

Ian laughed. “Alright, you have a point. Want me to finish up here so you can head back to the precinct and interrogate her? I heard she refused medical treatment at the hospital when they asked her for insurance. She should be waiting in one of the interview rooms by now.”

“Thanks, Ian. Talk to Tony about the body. I’m positive we now have a serial killer.” Connor watched Ian’s face sober.

“Shit, I was afraid of that. Let’s hope that witness sheds some light on this.”

“I don’t know how helpful she’ll be, but it should prove interesting. See you back at the precinct.” Connor walked back to his car, telling himself his only interest in talking to Sha was to pick her brain. Maybe if he repeated that enough, it would make it true.

Connor stared with disgust at the line of cars packed bumper-to-bumper as far as the eye could see. Horns blared, accompanied by shouts of disgruntled drivers as they spewed obscenities at other motorists. Ian hadn’t been kidding about traffic. What the hell was going on in the city? Impatient to get to the precinct and interview his witness—
the
witness, he corrected himself — he turned on the sirens hoping to expedite the trip and managed one freaking block.

Resigned, he sat back, reviewing the case in his mind and searching for anything he may have missed. He kept circling back to Sha Phoenix; there was something compelling about her beyond her unconventional appearance. The streaks of blue in her blonde hair intrigued him. Normally it was an act of teenage rebellion and not as typical for a woman her age.

No, it had been her behavior that had stood out most. She’d seemed confused at the scene and his gut told him it was more than just the blow to the head. Sure she lacked the physical strength required to subdue a man twice her size for even a few minutes, let alone long enough to sever his limbs. But she knew more than she’d let on, he was positive. Horns began blaring again, startling him from his thoughts. It looked like a mass exodus out of the city.
 

Thirty minutes later, traffic finally began moving, albeit at a snail’s pace. It took almost four times longer than usual to reach the precinct, a definite anomaly for an otherwise typical November Saturday. The moment he stepped through the front doors, he was bombarded with the usual raucous den that was the bullpen. He grinned in amusement at the array of interesting characters seated next to desks, some sporting handcuffs, as they gave their statements. Connor reared back, narrowly missing a flying elbow courtesy of a strung out hooker trying to go after a rival who had been encroaching on her territory. Just your average day in the life.

“Yo, Flynn!” He looked over to where one of the officers, Roger Jenkins, stood at the water cooler. “Got your girl over in Interview C. Man, she’s bizarre. You’d have thought she’d never seen a cell phone. Oh and the Cap’n wants your report this afternoon. Said to tell you no bullshitting him with excuses this time.”

Connor sighed. He didn’t make excuses, he just felt his time was better spent doing other things. Like tracking down witnesses, leads, or apprehending suspects. Or watching paint dry. Paperwork was the worst part of police work. “Thanks for the heads up. Keep an eye out for Kendrick, he should be back within the hour unless traffic continues to be a bitch.”

“Sure thing. If you need any help getting her to talk, let me know. I wouldn’t mind going a few rounds with her. You know what I’m sayin’.” Connor arched his eyebrow at the leer on the officer’s face.

Rather than risk talking to him longer than necessary, Connor waved his acknowledgement and headed to his desk. Jenkins’ attitude rubbed him the wrong way. Despite creeping toward his forties, the officer acted like a teenager, and an immature one at that. It was no surprise the older man hadn’t made it to detective. Perhaps if he grew up and used his brain every once in awhile, he might have a chance at the promotion he desperately sought.

Connor navigated through the chaos of the bullpen to the interview rooms, flipping through the files on the previous cases. It was a long shot, but confronting Sha with the details of the other scenes might shake something loose. He doubted she had a connection to the prior murders; he’d spent every waking moment for weeks pouring over the files so it would’ve been impossible to overlook someone like her. But you never knew, and if he didn’t bring it up now, he’d kick himself later. His head jerked at the sound of a throat clearing. What was the captain doing outside of Interview C? Today kept getting weirder and weirder.

“Sir, didn’t expect to see you here.” Captain John Morrison was a tall man in his early fifties with sharp blue eyes and salt and pepper hair. Even after riding a desk for the past seven years, he was as lean and muscular as when he’d been a detective himself. He’d long ago earned Connor’s respect by emphasizing solid police work over playing politics.

“I’m going to observe. With this being the first suspect in the ritual murders, the chief wants to make sure everything is by the book on this one.”
 

Fury burst through Connor’s veins, but his tone remained level. “Is he implying my investigation would be anything else?”

Morrison grimaced. “Try not to take it personally. You and I both know you’re more than capable of handling this. For the record, I think it’s bullshit. Sometimes we all have to play the game, even when you’d rather have your teeth pulled.”

“Understood, sir.” He swallowed the anger, knowing it would do nothing to take it out on his captain. These murders had the public in a frenzy and all efforts to keep details from leaking had been in vain. Connor had deliberately ignored the radio on the way to the precinct, but he imagined it had only gotten worse with news of a witness and potential suspect.