FIRST ONE DOWN: A Paul Sutton Novel (9 page)

Thinking back to the way she described wanting to be taken, he reigned himself in and turned her over onto her stomach. Starting at her neck, he brushed his lips on the nape lightly, moving towards her ear, he whispered, "I love you, Kali."

Lifting himself upright, he straddled her legs and began rubbing her back sensually with his large, rough hands. He moved them lightly on her sides and then pulled them in to the middle of her toned, pale back and increased the pressure, pressing the palms of his hands into her delicate skin. Working his way down to her backside, he massaged her buttocks while laying soft kisses up and down her spine. Once he felt her body relax, he pulled her hips up off of the bed, positioned himself behind her and guided himself into her slowly. She exhaled sharply and began to move her hips back against him.

"Do you want me all the way inside you, Kali?" He asked, pulling her by the back of her hair bringing her head back and up off of the bed.

"Yes, please," she begged.

That was all he needed to hear, and he couldn't control himself any longer. He began slamming into her with the force she was used to feeling from him. It took every ounce of strength he had to remain emotionally present. And he was certain, in that moment, that he could not do that for, or with, any other woman. With all his focus on trying to control his natural urges to be rough, wanting to please Kali and give her the tenderness she asked for, he began to lose his erection. Embarrassed, he pulled out and pushed her body back down flat against the bed. He lay down next to her and pulled her close to him. When their eyes met, he could see the puzzled look on her face, and ashamed, he turned away from her.

"What's wrong, Nate?" she asked, "did I do something wrong? Did I ask too much of you?"

"No, baby, I'm just tired and overwhelmed. Just let me lie here next to you," he said.

As he listened to the sound of her shallow breaths, and took in her proximity to his body, the feel of her bare skin against his and her scent caused his heart to warm again. He felt his own body begin to relax and drifted off to the first peaceful sleep he had enjoyed in longer than he could recall. She was his again, he had won, and nothing was going to change that this time. Not his demons nor his secrets. One more problem to solve, and she would never know what actually went down the night that she had walked away from him.

Sutton entered the Sheriff's station in Encinitas and double-timed it up to the counter inside the main entrance. Displaying his badge, he asked to speak to the Sergeant in Charge and waited impatiently, pacing the floor in front of the counter while running his hand through his unkempt head of hair. When the Sergeant arrived at the front desk, the two men exchanged professional pleasantries and Sutton followed him back to his cramped office.

Sutton explained that he was in the middle of investigating a cold homicide case, and gave him the rundown of how he had come up with the information about the non-emergency call and the unknown car in Nate's neighborhood the night of Laura's murder. He asked the Sergeant for a copy of the report and any subsequent investigative notes or reports done by the deputy who had handled the call.

"What exactly are you after?" the Sergeant asked.

"Just the plate number, that's all I need, man. I'm not looking for anything else, and I don't want to take up your time with this. It's probably a dead end, but I follow a lot of dead ends in my unit."

"I guess I could give you that information, but I'm curious, can you tell me what you are hoping to track down with that plate number? If one of my guys slacked in his duties, I need to know about it."

"Man, I'm not here accusing you or your deputies of incompetence. I don't even know if this is connected to my investigation. I am just doing my job and chasing every ghost that presents itself," Sutton said, with a chuckle.

"Okay, but if anything comes up and my guys missed something with that call, please get in touch with me," he said as he handed Sutton his card.

The Sergeant picked up his desk phone and asked the person on the other line to print out a copy of the report, identifying it by number. He hung up and looked back at Sutton, "The report will be waiting at the front for you in five minutes. I hope it leads somewhere."

"Thanks, I appreciate the professional courtesy. I'll let you know if anything comes up."

Sutton walked back to the front of the station and resumed pacing the tiled entryway until he saw a young woman walk up to the front and hand the desk clerk an envelope.

"Here you are detective," she said holding a manila envelope out in his direction.

Sutton snatched up the envelope, said his thanks and headed out to the car. Once inside, he opened the envelope and scanned the report stopping when he saw the license plate number of the car that was named as suspicious in the report.

"Holy hell," he said out loud and reached for his cell phone.

"Ryan - guess what?"

"Man, do you ever wait for anyone to say hello before you start in?" Ryan asked, "what's your gut saying to you now, Sutton?"

"You keep laughing, partner! I just got us a plate number and not just any old plate number - it's a personalized California plate. Get a pen and write it down, I want the name and address of the registered owner, yesterday!"

Sutton hung up and returned his focus to the report. Apparently the neighborhood lady had reported that a red sports car had arrived on her street at approximately seven in the evening and, at the time of the non-emergency line call, was still parked and the occupant, "a young woman with short, curly blonde hair," had been "spying on her neighbor's house with goggles," for three hours. A patrol car was dispatched to the scene at 11:52 p.m. The report stated that at the time the patrol car arrived on scene, the vehicle reported was not parked on the street or within a three block radius of the residence. The report was closed and that was that.

Sitting there in his car, Sutton wondered what this young, blonde girl had been up to that night. Was she a jilted lover of Nate's, or maybe a PI? Was she even connected to Nate? It could all be a misunderstanding or a coincidence, but Sutton was a firm believer that there are no such things as coincidences. His gut was screaming and he was sure that there was something to this, more than he could see right now. In investigative work, it was oft times some minute, random detail that would break an otherwise stalled case wide open. And his gut was saying that this could be that random detail, or lead him in the right direction. Any direction would be of high value at this point.

Waiting on his desk when he returned to the station was a DMV records print out showing the registered owner of the vehicle that Nate's neighbor had reported. Sutton read through it and sat back in his chair, raking his fingers through his gray hair and ignoring the barrage of questions Ryan was firing at him. He needed to think this information through and didn't have time for Ryan's crap. Leaning back in his worn out chair, he read the printout again...

2008 Nissan 350z Coupe Red

Registered Owner: NewWay Auto Sales of Forest Grove, OR

Previously Registered: Olivia Foster of San Diego, CA

Sale/Transfer of title completed on: 01/17/2010

"Crap, another friggin' dead end," he muttered.

"What? Did you say your gut lied to you?" Ryan asked, laughing, as the words were leaving his mouth.

"Did you run this Olivia Foster girl?"

"Did you ask me to, old man?"

"Did you run her or not, Ryan?" Sutton said, becoming obviously agitated.

"No, I didn't run her, do you want me to?"

"Ya, let's run her and go pay a visit. You never know," he said, as he got up from his chair and made his way to the case board he and Ryan had created for the Carmichael case. Looking up at it, there wasn't any more to go on now than there was back in '09, when he was initially put on the case. Where does this girl fit in, he wondered. He knew there was a connection somehow, he could feel it, but he sure as hell couldn't see it yet.

Frustrated and knowing it would take an hour or two to get Olivia's info in his hands, he turned to Ryan, "You want to get a bite to eat?"

"Sure, partner. Downstairs?"

"Unless you have a better idea," he said, grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair. As he began to walk away, his desk phone rang and he spun around and snatched the phone off its cradle, "Sutton here."

Ryan watched the expression on his face go from calm to irritated in a matter of two-seconds. Sutton slammed the phone down and huffed loudly as he walked to the elevator.

"What's up?" Ryan asked, trying to keep up with his brisk pace.

"Damn husband's here. What the hell is it with this guy?"

"Mr. Carmichael?" Ryan asked, his eyes opening wide.

"Ya, Mr. Carmichael, who the hell did you think I meant?" Sutton asked his tone sarcastic.

"Calm down, shit - I'm telling you, this case is going to give you another damn heart attack. Thank God you don't have a wife at home for me to worry about becoming widowed."

They took the elevator down to the first floor and Sutton saw Andrew immediately, his size was impressive and impossible to miss. Andrew stood up and faced the two men coming out of the elevator.

"Holy shit, is that him?" Ryan asked, his mouth hanging open.

"Ya that's him."

"You weren't exaggerating when you said the guy was huge," Ryan said, still staring at the oversized Marine.

"No, Ryan, I don't exaggerate. The guy is huge, a huge pain in my ass," Sutton muttered, his tone tight.

Andrew put his hand out to shake Sutton's. He then turned to Ryan, "Andrew Carmichael," he said, "and, you are?"

"Detective Ryan Bradley, Sutton’s partner, nice to meet you. I wish it were under different circumstances. I'm sorry about your wife."

"Don't be sorry, just get the monster that took her from me," Andrew said.

"We are going to grab a bite to eat, you mind if we talk over lunch?" Sutton asked looking up at Andrew.

"Works for me," Andrew said and followed the two detectives towards the deli at the back of the building.

The three men ordered sandwiches and found a table in the back corner of the deli. They sat and started on their lunches while Andrew told them of his transfer out to San Diego.

"How long will you be here?" Sutton asked, curious to find out how long he would have to deal with Andrew being in his space.

"I'm here until further notice, maybe two or three years. I'm looking for a house near the base," Andrew said, wanting to make sure Sutton understood he was planting roots in the area. "I looked through Laura's cell phone records this morning, and I have come up with two numbers I want you to check out, I'm particularly interested in the last call that came in."

Sutton looked to his side at Ryan and then back at Andrew, "You found numbers you want us to check out? Andrew, we've had those cell phone records since a few days after..."

"I know you have them, Sutton. I want to know who they belong to, I want to know if you contacted the owners of the numbers," Andrew said, his voice stern and accusatory.

"Of course we did, what do you think we do down here? I have been a detective for more than half of my life, Andrew. I know how to work a case." Sutton was visibly upset at the mere hint of incompetence being directed his way. He had given up the past two years of his life puzzling over this case. There wasn't a day that went by where he didn't try to find an angle, an opening, or an overlooked clue.

"You haven't been down here Sutton. You've been sitting at home, on your ass, until very recently."

Sutton stood up, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and leaned over, getting close to Andrew's face, "Look, I know she was your wife, I know you want to know what happened, and I know you want the monster who killed her found and brought up on charges. You are not the only one who wants those things, Andrew. I’ve spent the last two years ‘sitting on my ass’ every day thinking about this case and wondering if I missed something. I assure you, I am doing everything within my power to find the bastard. I work this case as if it was my only case, and I will not rest until I connect the dots. What I don't need," Sutton looked to the side at Ryan and waved a hand in Ryan's direction, "what we don't need, is an emotional husband interfering with our investigation. We do this for a living, we know what we're doing and we are hunting down every possible connection. We will solve this case and when we make an arrest, you will be the first one to know." Sutton began to walk away, back rigid with anger. Ryan got up calmly, pushed his chair in, and throwing Andrew an apologetic look fell in step behind Sutton.

Andrew stood up and shouted, "I want the name of that phone number owner Sutton! I deserve to know who it belongs to. It was the last number dialed by my wife."

Sutton turned quickly and stomped back towards Andrew, sat back down at the table and pulled his notebook out of his pocket. "Nate Warner. His name is Nate Warner. We have no reason to believe that he is involved and no proof that he saw your wife the night of her murder." Sutton wrote the name and address down on a page in his notebook, jerked the sheet of paper off the wire notebook rings and slid it in Andrew's direction. Then got up and walked away back to the elevator.

"What the fuck did you just do?" Ryan asked.

"I gave a grieving husband the key to rile the hornets nest for us," Sutton stated and hit the number three button on the elevator call pad with a closed fist.

"If Nate Warner is our perp, a visit from that mountain of meat will shake him up more than anything we could do," Sutton said.

"You are one crazy old man, you just started a shit storm brewing."

"It was already brewing, Ryan, I just pointed out the path I want it to follow."

Kali Hanson opened her dark eyes, swollen from hours of crying the night before and lay in her bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. She felt like a complete fool for falling back into the trap that was Nate Warner. The day before had rendered her an emotional wreck, and she barely had the strength to get up and get ready for a day at the facility. She knew she had to pull herself together; she couldn't risk allowing Tessa to see the current state she was in. Yesterday, knowing the reality she would wake to this morning hadn't been a part of her decision making process. Who was she fooling? She had no decision making power when Nate was within arms reach. She couldn't resist his seductive pull; the formidable force that drew her to him was unyielding. He was tenacious in his efforts to suck her back in, and the truth of the situation was that she had walked into the trap with open eyes and willingly. Nate had been right when he said that she couldn't walk away from him, and they both knew it.