Deceitful Moon (16 page)

He
wheeled the red SUV into the parking garage
. T
wo detectives talk
ed
with three blues near the building’s security door. The two detectives,
Kathy
Ross and Frank Wymer, saw Manny and Sophie and hurried over
.
Alex got into his cruiser, heading for the west side of town.

“You two look like you’ve seen a ghost,” said Manny. “What’s up?”

“First
,
let me say we’re both pulling for the Chief. We’re not as close to him as you two, but he always treated us fairly,” said Ross
, h
er long
,
black hair moving as she shook her head.

“Thank you.”

Wymer,
a
very
large man,
sported
a short
,
gray crew cut
,
confirming what the military tattoos on his forearms displayed
:
Once a Marine, always a Marine
.
He stepped into the conversation. “It’s gotten worse.”

“What has?” Manny asked, not really wanting the answer.

“We got a call from an apartment complex in the south end, near
Davlind R
oad,
called t
he Royal Life.”

He had Manny’s full attention. “That’s where Mike Crosby lives
.
”

“Mike’s okay
,
but we have another murder. Mike’s next door neighbor was shot in his bed.
Two
gunshot
s
to the chest, according to the first
officers
on the scene,” said Wymer.

This didn’t feel good. “So?”

Wymer looked nervously to Ross, then back to Manny and Sophie. “Mike may have been involved. Apparently
,
people heard them arguing. Something about the guy being registered as a sex offender.” The big man sighed.
“
Mike
smacked him a good one in the guy’s
apartment.”

“Are you sure?”

The big detective nodded.

Manny felt like Mike Tyson had just landed a solid one-two punch to his
ribs
. He fought to catch his breath. This wasn’t real.
Mike too? His next thought was of Stella.
The r
iver was rising
,
and she had no boat.

“Shit,” swore Sophie.

What the hell is
happening
here? Why
had
Lansing suddenly
become
the crime capital of the world?

“Sophie. Make that call
to Josh
,” he murmured.
“We’re going to need them.”

Chapter
-27

Dr. Fredrick Argyle sat on the edge of the stained mattress that caused his jail cell to stink like some sewer ditch, slowly stroking the long, purple welt that had risen above his left eye
,
c
ompliments of one of the over
-
zealous USVI police officers assigned to make sure he stayed in line, that he succumb
ed
to their pitiful rules.

He had been truly impressed. It had taken that officer much longer to reach the boiling point than he’d anticipated. It took a few attempts, but eventually he’d pushed exactly the right button, provoking the guard to hit him. Twice.
H
e knew it would happen. It was unavoidable. How could they resist getting a piece of someone they loathed so intently?
But it was more than that, wasn’t it? Fear caused nightmares to spring to life
—
and these pissy
,
little men were nothing if not afraid.
Especially when he told the guard what he was going to do to his wife, his mother
,
maybe even his kids
—
i
n amazing detail.

“I just don’t think
we were on the same page
,” he grinned
and
touched the bruise again. The
b
illy club had been hard, he’d even caught a glimpse of colored stars as he passed from light to dark and back to light. Through it all, he heard them call him sick, an animal, evil.

Evil? What exactly did that mean? The significance held different connotations for everyone. His time as a psychiatrist told him that was true.

For instance, some
welcome
d the companionship of a snake. The creatures were pets, seen as having value, personalities. Others could barely contemplate being in the same room with one. Even a small
,
caged one. Invariabl
y
, those afflicted with that phobia
—
ophidiophobia
—
associated the snake with devils or demons. Malevolence personified. They even quoted the
B
ible to justify their fear. If God thought snakes were bad news, then justification came easier.

Of course, if there really
was
a God, why would men like him be allowed to do what they do?
He smiled again. He could teach
the
B
ible
-
thumpers
a thing or two about real fear.

Looking down at the chains running from his ankles to his waist
and
ending at his wrists, he couldn’t help reflecting on how long it would take to free himself. Minutes? Half an hour? No more than that. But that would be too easy, and he wouldn’t get to play with the stout
,
black woman who brought him his meals. No problem there. He didn’t really want to waltz with her anyway. T
here were other people to meet
,
p
eople
who
needed to
learn
what he was teaching.

Once he was transported back
to
Lansing, the real bash would continue. And as usual, he’d be the life of the party
, t
he star attraction.
The masses
would simply die to get close to him.

Argyle stretched his back as far as the restraints would allow and rolled onto the
swaybacked
bed.
He could hardly wait
.

Chapter
-28

Alex Downs pressed
the accelerator harder. The powerful engine surged, causing his stomach to do one of those flips
.
It was like flying down the last steep
curve
of a roller
coaster. A big one.

He flicked a switch
,
and the red and blue lights swirled into life. Another switch and the siren bellowed out its authority, telling everyone to get the hell out of his way. He was
a
scientist at heart
—
in fact, it
was
what he lived for
—
but getting to drive a police cruiser, particularly like this, was a rush and not something he thought he’d get to do when he took the job. Perks were certainly in the eyes of the beholder
,
but this was over the top.

The corner of Waverly and Smith was buzzing with activity, cops and
LPD cruisers
everywhere. He parked his unit, grabbed his case
,
and hurried to the center of attraction.

Sarah Sparks, one of his
techs
(
and a damned good one
)
stood just outside the yellow crime scene tape
,
cordoning off the body and the immediate area around it, forty feet in every direction. A perfect square. Sparks was concentrating on the camera they occasionally
used
to create virtual crime scenes. The process
was
called photogrammetry.
It’s a
technique that combines
hundreds
of different photos taken at a particular scene
then
sends them to a computer program that in turn creates a 360
-
degree image.
It
was
h
elpful when a crime ha
d
been committed in a high traffic, public area, like this one. The images would be on file long after the scene was
trampled and
forgotten.

Alex
cleared his throat
,
and she jumped
. She turned
quickly to see
who
had interrupted her train of thought.
H
er gray eyes grew larger than her thin face could seemingly accommodate.
He grinned
; s
he looked a little like a lemur.

“Easy there, Sparky.
”

“Sorry boss, a little jumpy. And I’m glad you’re back.”

Sarah’s
pretty
face was a little more pale than
usual
. She was a tough kid
,
and homicides hadn’t bothered her up to this point. But she was obviously affected by this one.

“You ok
ay
?”

“Yes. I guess so. This one is
. . .
well
,
see for yourself.” She looked at the fast
-
food bag in his other hand
,
then back to him.

“You’re going to eat that over there?”

“Of course. I’m hungry.”

“But Alex
. . .
” Sarah’s face turned a whiter shade of pale.

He opened
the
bag, letting loose the rich aroma of greasy sausage and fried eggs
. O
ne whiff sent Sarah to the other side of the yellow tape
,
where she quickly rendezvoused with gut
-
wrenching heaves.

“Gets ’
em every time,” he said to the cop standing near the camera.

He downed the food
,
and then he took
out latex gloves from his case
and
moved to the body. The tall man lying on the pavement of the parking lot hardly looked human. He’d only been dead for maybe eight or nine hours, but the smell was
far
worse.
The hot asphalt made sure of that.
Scorching flesh was never going to be used for aromatherapy.
Th
is
one
definitely had
the
same
bullet-hole pattern
to the head and chest as the first victim at the White Kitty. His hands and ankles were bound with black leather
, b
ut this time
,
his clothes had been removed and the acid trail ran from his
neck
to past his thighs. It concentrated on the crotch area to the point that his
willie
’
s
stub was barely discernable. There was a small amount of gelatinous tissue welded to his
upper
right thigh
, p
robably what was left of his testicles.
Th
e
acid concentration was high, very high. Someone knew what they were doing
.

Sarah Sparks crouched next to him. “You did that on purpose
,
and I have a long memory.”

“Bring it, girlfriend.”

Her smile
beamed
like
the sun
.
“
Someday
, boss, someday
.” She pointed toward the body. “There wasn’t a lot of blood
,
so this seems to be a dump site. We didn’t notice any blood trails or drag patterns
,
so I think we
’
re solid with the assumption he was killed elsewhere.”

Alex nodded. “Help me turn him over.”

His back and neck showed the same footprint
s
and strange, deeper marks as victim number one. There appeared to be
a
bit
of
bone stabbing through the tattooed skin of his lower neck.

They rolled the body back to its original spot
,
and Alex stood up. “The damage to the back and neck was done postmortem, but the penis burning session was definitely antemortem.” He snapped his gloves off and
rubbed the back of his neck
. “The unsub is getting more aggressive, more violent. There is a lot of overkill here, more than the first.
Okay
,
Sparky, w
hat else can you tell me?”