It's A Crime (29 page)

“Yes,
got it,” the patrol officer called over his shoulder.

“Dan
.” He nodded to the Medical Examiner. “Our boy again?”

“Looks like it
, Dean; also looks like he’s getting angrier. He damn near decapitated her. She died quickly.”

“Not quick enough for her.
Find me something I can use.”

“I’m
doing my best.” He turned his attention back to the body.

Dean waited for
Dan’s assistant to remove the leash from the victim’s wrist before calling softly to the dog.
Don’t need this mutt fucking up my crime scene.

“Come here
, guy...come here.” Dean lowered himself to his knees.

Buddy
, first hesitant, timidly walked toward the soothing voice, his head low, leaving small bloodied paw prints. Blood covered his face. Dean scooped him up and walked over to where Dan was.

“Dan, before we search the database for this guy’s owner, did yo
u need to get any blood samples?”

“Got ‘em.  He was sitting in front of the body when I got here. 
Little bastard tried to bite me…”

“
You blame him?  He’s scared shitless.  With a little luck he tore a chunk out of the fucker’s leg.”

“
We took a full swab of his teeth for DNA, also clipped his hair to test.”

“Okay, I’m going to give him over to the ASPCA.  They can pull his tags
…find out who owns this guy. Fuck, man,” Dean looked down, “he did nearly take her head off.”  Dean lowered his head and walked with the dog over to the waiting ASPCA.

Dean heard a shout
, then loud mumbling building in the surrounding crowd. A man pushed his way through.

“Hey, man, that’s my dog, man.
Hey. That’s my dog,” the man yelled out, pointing to the dog being placed in the cage inside the ASPCA van.

Dean walked over to where
the man stood, visibly shaking, on the edge of the crowd. He was trying to lift the police tape over his head when Dean yelled, “Hey, stay there. I’ll come to you.”
Fucking idiot.

“Where’s Jen?”
the man called out to him, looking around, searching the crowd. “Where the fuck is Jen?” His voice was shaking.

“Jen?”

“Yeah, my girlfriend, she took Buddy out for a walk. Where is she?”

Dean pulled
the man to the side and proceeded to ask him a string of questions, then informed him what had happened. During the brief interrogation, the man who said his name was Todd paled and his legs went weak. He crumbled to the sidewalk and sat on the curb, shaking.

This is not the fucker I want
. No fucking way.

Turning
away from Todd, he waived his partner over, instructing her to get all of Todd’s information. Todd was checked by an EMT and released. Dean signaled the ASPCA, who brought Buddy over to Todd. Todd picked Buddy up and when he saw Buddy’s face covered in blood, he vomited. He was instructed to come to the station in the morning to give a full report.

Walking away from Todd, Dean said aloud
, “Fucking asshole. Who lets their girlfriend go out alone this fucking late when that fucker is out here?” He shook his head. “Who fucking does that?”

The victim’s body
, summarily combed for evidence, was transported to the morgue, autopsy pending, cause of death evident, to await her next of kin for identification.

“We need to work harder
, Carrie, find something we can use. We need to get this mother fucker off the streets.”

“I know
, Dean, I know. Five women.” Carrie shook her head, her face grim.

“We just need
one fucking break. He didn’t get to play footsie. He was rushed, she’d fucked him up, almost got away.” Dean paused. “Look at all these fucking people.” He pointed up toward the dozens of front-facing windows overlooking the park. “You seriously telling me none of these fucking
citizens
heard anything? The dog had to have been barking with his owner being attacked. This guy’s a fucking ghost.”

He lowered his head and walk
ed to the bloody sidewalk, tracing the victim’s path back to where he first attacked her.

“This is wh
ere he first cut her.” Dean looked at Carrie. “Arterial spray.” He pointed to the sidewalk and continued to search the ground for anything the perp may have dropped. Nothing. He stood and slowly turned in a complete circle, again noticing all the facing windows. “No one heard or saw anything? Goddamn this fucker.”

They
both walked back to where the body was found. “You.” Dean pointed to where he just came from to two patrol officers, “You two, stay here.  Nobody touches ANYTHING till the clean-up crew gets here.”  He looked up the street.  “Got it?”

Both nodded in reply.

Chapter 30

The next several days were both mentally and physically exhausting. I was convinced I was losing my mind. Everywhere I looked, everywhere I turned I saw a black BMW SUV. I’m intelligent enough to know there were thousands like it in the City, but when I saw each one, a chill ran up my spine, and my instincts told me each time it was Cole. If that were true, I was definitely going crazy. The sleek black SUVs appeared whenever I left my apartment, work, the gym, even when I walked home.

Michelle
heard me come home Friday evening. I suspected she’d been waiting for me. When the elevator door opened, she unlocked her door and took one look at me.

“Ah shit
, Grace.” She turned, grabbing my key off of her key holder.

“Fucking
men.” She mumbled as she inserted her key and punched in her code, seeing me in. “Go take a shower and get your PJ’s on. I’ll be right over with some ice cream for us, sound good?”

I nodded
. I was emotionally raw.

“Yea
h…didn’t eat...” I took one look at my empty apartment, and depression weighed down on me. “Don’t take too long.”

T
hat was Michelle’s way; she didn’t pry, never tried to drag details out,
never
gossiped. She knew when I hurt and she knew when I needed to talk. A few minutes later, she walked into my apartment wearing pajama pants and a white tee, carrying Chocolate Chip Mint for me and Pralines and Cream for her.

I ended up eating my whole pint and half of hers.
We watched TV, me with my head on her lap as she played with my hair. Whatever happened with me and Cole, I was so lucky to have Michelle in my life. I must have fallen asleep because when I woke up the next morning the sun was streaming through sheers and the spare blanket was draped over me.

Michelle
tapped lightly on the door, announcing her return. “Just me,” she called out, letting herself in. She was dressed in gray sweats and black tee, holding a steaming pot of coffee in her hand. She put the pot down on the counter and took two mugs from the cabinet, fixing us both a cup coffee, and brought it over to where I sat rubbing the sleep from my eyes. She sat cross-legged on the couch next to me.

“What do you want to do today?
Stay in, rent some pay per views, lounge like two bums all day?”

“Sound
s like a plan to me.”

“Good
. We’ll order in Chinese or Italian later, whatever you want.”

“Shell
e?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you, you know that, right?”

“Of course you
do, how can you not?” Her tone was playful then she looked at me and got immediately serious.

“
Gracie, you know I love you, right?” I nodded. “You’re the best friend I can ask for, always there for me, when my parents split, when Sam OD’d. We’d been through enough pain together.” I knew she meant Craig. “You were my rock, Gracie, my touchstone. You kept me whole. So stop being silly. Dump it on me, I’ll tell you what I think. No holds barred, like always.”

The
tears came quickly to my eyes and ran freely down my face, my pain unchecked. I told her everything, sans the uber sexy parts.

After
ward, we sat quietly watching mindless TV all day, silly, stupid reruns that hadn’t changed in fifteen years. We just finished pizza when the news started at 6:00. The lead story was the recent murders in New York City. All women, all blonde, all dead. Needless to say we were glued to the plasma, our mouths gaping open. I subconsciously raised my hand, covering my throat. I looked over at Michelle, who raised her arms as if blocking an attack.

The police
were searching for the “Golden Hair Murderer.” The 1-800 hotline ran steadily across the bottom of the screen. The news station asked for any information from anyone who may have seen or heard anything. Pictures of the five girls who’d been found murdered, all smiling, most likely provided by a devastated family member, pinned on the map where their bodies were found. Their physical similarities to me were disturbing.  It was haunting to say the least. Neither of us was able to look away. The description the news anchor gave of how they were found contrasted those smiling pictures unnervingly; their eyes vacant, hair covered in blood, bodies motionless.  Enough to give you the creeps.

“Grace
...” Michelle audibly swallowed. “Gracie…those girls look like you.” She shuddered.

“I was
just
thinking the same thing. Holy shit.”

“What the fuck.
Do you know any of them?”

“No.
I don’t think so.” I was horrified. Five women. “That means a serial killer, right? When it’s five like that, it means a serial killer, right?” Fear crept up the back of my neck, the small hairs standing straight up.

“I’m sure it’s a coincidence
, you know the murder rate in New York City is through the roof,” Michelle said, still shaken, I didn’t know who she was trying to convince me or her.  She’s always trying to comfort me.

“It has to be.”
My brain went numb. Holy Shit, I couldn’t believe this. I was unable to get over how much they resembled me. I hoped it was a horrible coincidence.

The next day Cole had
a staff member bring back everything I had left at his apartment. I found a note from Cole in the box with my lingerie, but didn’t have the strength to open it, my pain palpable. I tossed it into the drawer along with my lingerie.

The news story scared Michelle to the point
of absurdity. She insisted on driving me to work and picking me up for the next several days. The feeling I was being followed continued to plague me. I was constantly looking over my shoulder, getting seriously paranoid. I honestly considered dying my hair brown.

On top of the fear,
I was feeling the loss of Cole each day, especially at night when I was alone in my bed. I replayed the times we’d spent together in my mind, trying to convince myself it was real, we were real. I told myself if I was willing to wait for Cole with no explanation on his part, then when he came back, if he came back, I deserved nothing short of his total honesty and commitment to me, otherwise, this would never work.