Mystery: The Card Counter: (Mystery, Suspense, Thriller, Suspense Thriller Mystery) (5 page)

BOOK: Mystery: The Card Counter: (Mystery, Suspense, Thriller, Suspense Thriller Mystery)
7.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

I paused for a second to clear the cobwebs. “Hello, Beth, I’m not at work.”

“Then how come I saw you on television this morning?” my ex barked back.

“Yes, I was called to the scene,” I explained as I sat up in bed, “but I stayed only until things were under control. I’m back at the house now. I was back here within minutes of the girls waking up.”

“So who was watching the kids?” she pretty much screamed in my ear.

“Clive was with the girls. He made their favorite pancakes.” I was starting to dread picking up the phone. “When I heard it was on campus, I just wanted to make sure Cassie was all right.”

“She’s fine,” Beth replied. “I spoke with her this morning.”

“I can’t say the same for the young man I saw this morning.” As I tried to remind her why I was out there, I reminded myself to speak calmly. “That was the most gruesome thing I’ve seen in a while; I wanted to see Cassie was alright.”

“That’s something coming from you,” Beth admitted.

“I’m seriously considering asking Cassie to stay with one of us until it’s over.”

“You think it might happen again?”

“We have evidence that suggests this killer isn’t finished. Don’t leak that.”

“I won’t. I’ll try to talk to Cassie later today.”

I took a deep breath. “Don’t tell her anything about the case, not anything I just said.  And Beth... You know I wouldn’t leave the girls unattended, but they wouldn’t call me in if it wasn’t urgent.”

“You have to set boundaries,” Beth said, unwilling to budge. “Before you know it those two girls will be in college, too. You don’t get much time to begin with, so use what you have.”

“I will. I promise.”

“If things get really bad, you can bring them back early,” she offered.

As much as I appreciated the offer, this was one boundary that I was not willing to budge on. “I’ll be alright, but I appreciate the offer, Beth.”

“Just try your best to be there for them.”

“I will. Goodbye.” As I hung up the phone and placed it on the nightstand, all I could think about was the loss. I was married to my job and my life as a cop more than I was to the woman I loved. When she got tired of not getting the affection she assumed she deserved, she sought it from someone else. When I discovered the affair, I moved out the same day without even talking to her.

That was three years ago. Cassie was just getting out of high school and moving on to college when the separation began. Being away from home still didn’t change the fact that her parents had separated. Two homes to visit instead of one; and the younger girls had a much harder time accepting the fact that Daddy was gone and was most likely never coming home again.

I didn’t want to be the one who walked out, but when I discovered her infidelity, there was no turning back. I just couldn’t live with someone who I didn’t trust. Many people try to claim that love is love, and that it’s all that’s needed to have a happy marriage, but that’s complete bullshit.

Without trust, you cannot have a relationship with anyone. If that wasn’t present in your marriage, it didn’t matter how much you loved the person ... it was over. You can’t have a stable marriage if you have to check everything the other person says. If you can’t trust the other person, then it’s not going to work out.

Once there was no trust, love was soon to follow. Divorce was the next logical step after finding out about the affair. I wasn’t getting any younger and the idea of staying with someone who claimed to care, but did things with other men behind my back, was just too much for me to handle. I made the move she had wanted to make for years but didn’t have the balls to make.

As I got out of bed, I walked over to my dresser to look at something. In my top drawer were a few things from my marriage, such as my ring and other personal mementos that I cherished from years gone by. One of the trinkets was a piece of jewelry that I’d bought for my wife five years before we separated. She never wore it. Ever. I took the time to buy her something nice and it hurt my feelings that she didn’t use it once.

I took it back the day I moved out. I’d had every intention of giving it back to her, but had wanted to see how long it would take for her to notice it was gone. Years later, it was still in my dresser, and I don’t know if it was because she didn’t remember the item at all, or she didn’t care if I had it or had pawned it.

I loved that woman more than I’d loved anyone my entire life. The fact that we were no longer together hurt like crazy, but I’d started to move on. While some days were tougher than others, I still had my girls and a job I loved. For the first year or two since the divorce, I stayed at the office so much that, sometimes, my boss had to order me to go home. It was my work that managed to get me through the first few years, which was a lot better than drowning myself at the bottom of a bottle.

I even attended a support group for people who were divorced, and it was nice to talk to people who were in the same boat as I was, but that didn’t last too long. I could take so much and no more of that, before moving on to something more productive. I tried my best to be there for the kids and to take part in the important stuff; it was just too hard to do some things with Beth there. The pain was too much for me sometimes, and I would make an early exit and not return. I tried to play the tough guy, but it was hard for me to even admit that my heart had been broken by the person who I’d trusted most. It was also hard to find someone new who I was willing to trust, not only because I was afraid of being betrayed again, but because I didn’t want to feel that kind of pain again.

Things were pretty lively downstairs so I grabbed my cell phone and decided to head down to find out what was going on. The girls were more excited than usual and it didn’t take me long to figure out why. Their oldest sister had come to visit and they were in the kitchen gabbing about boys, school, and the usual stuff girls talked about. Once Cassie realized I had come down from my nap, she ran over and I gave her a big hug. A bear hug compared to the light one I’d given her at the crime scene earlier in the day. “You have no idea how good it is to see you here.”

“I’m just dropping by to do some laundry,” Cassie said with a smile. She would always come by to do her laundry and raid the fridge whenever she felt like it. I didn’t mind because I enjoyed spending time with her to talk and see how she was doing.

“I was just talking to your mother about you,” I said to Cassie as I let go of her and walked over to the fridge to grab something to drink. I had considered brewing another cup of coffee, but wasn’t in the mood to wait, so I grabbed a diet coke. “I was wondering if you’d consider crashing here for at least the next week. I could drive you to school on the way to work.”

“Dad, you don’t have to worry,” Cassie said as she sat down at the table with her sisters. “It was just one incident. I’ll be fine.”

“I’ve just got this feeling,” I said as I took a sip out of the can. “This might not be over just yet. Your mother and I are both worried.”

“Dad, it’s not that bad,” Cassie said as if she was amused by the whole act of the concerned father.

Just as she said that, my cell phone went off again. This time it was the ringtone that indicated that it was work. I immediately picked it up. “This is Walker.”

“Jake, it’s Flo.” I could tell by the sound of her voice that she had something for me. “I’m back at the campus.”

“What’s going on, Flo?” I quickly asked. I stood there and could tell by the dead silence that was in the room that all three of them were interested in what was going on. I stood there, not showing any emotion as Flo told me. I sighed deeply and even groaned a bit as I suddenly realized that I wasn’t going to spend that much time with the girls today. “I’ll be right there.”

Before the girls could say anything, I raised my hand to take control of the discussion. “I have to go back to work.” I turned back to Sandy. “Are you sorry for holding that test back from me?”

“I am, Dad,” she begged. “I really, really am.”

“Alright.” I went into my wallet and fished out some cash and gave it to Cassie. “Take the girls out for pizza and a movie, on me.” As I handed the cash to my eldest daughter, I held her hand and looked her in the eyes. “You’re staying here with me all week. No questions.”

Cassie paused for a moment. “What’s going on, Dad?”

“They found another body on campus,” I answered, and I could sense the fear in all three of my girls’ eyes. “This killer has struck again. We found another body, this time in one of the dorms.”

“Which one?” Cassie demanded.

I paused for an answer, but felt she needed to know the truth, and it wasn’t as if she wouldn’t find out anyway. “Yours.”

 

4

 

This was the last thing I wanted to hear from Flo, but there’d been an ache in my gut that told me there was going to be another victim. It was just a matter of time. I could tell by the brutality of the first murder that the suspect would probably do it again. Someone with that much pent-up anger was most likely impossible to control. So, finding another victim; getting that rush from assaulting them; and having power over them... it was all too great to resist. It was, therefore, very common for killers who exhibited that much control and sadism to become addicted to killing. The playing card was another dead giveaway. If there was another at this scene, chances were that we had a serial killer on our hands. Sometimes I hated being right.

I drove back to the campus for the second time that day, and this time, I went past the Arts building where the first crime scene was still being guarded, and made my way to the second crime scene: Cassie’s dormitory. I’d gone there before when Beth and I had toured it months before Cassie’s first year on campus, so I had no trouble finding it. It was a nice building, and while I wasn’t too keen on the idea of her living in a co-ed dorm, she obviously was behaving herself enough because I hadn’t received any calls, so that was a good thing. I parked my car behind a few police cruisers that still had their lights on. As I stepped out of the car, I was met with a barrage of reporters who were in a complete frenzy about another body found on campus within 24 hours of the other. It took a few minutes but I finally managed to get into the dorm and make my way to the second floor as instructed by my partner, who was already there and looking through things with forensics.

I’d noted the last time I was there that the dorm rooms were small, just a little bigger than jail cells. Big enough to live in with another person, but too small to have a party, which I honestly thought was the reasoning behind their cramped dimensions. I looked in through the door and there it was: another body with a tarp draped over it. I walked past Flo without saying a word, and she let me be, long enough to walk up to the body and take a gander under the canvas. I flipped it back down in disgust. Same execution as Wally Bennett: another male victim, hands bound, mouth gagged, pants down to his ankles, and multiple stab wounds in the back, which was the cause of death. After processing what I had just seen, I finally asked without looking at Flo. “Victim’s name?”

“Nicholas Clancy,” Flo quickly answered.

“Was there a card?” I knew there was, but I asked anyway, hoping there was a chance that the first card was just a mistake and not something left by the killer.

“Yup.” Flo walked over and handed me the card already enclosed in an evidence bag. “Stuffed into his sock just like Wally’s.”

I took the card from her and looked at it. The eight of hearts. “How long has this boy been dead?”

“Not too long,” Flo said as she took back the card. “Less than seven hours, I’d say. There’s a good chance this happened while we were checking out the first crime scene. We were less than half a click away.”

“This is going to get ugly,” I said as I shuffled out of the tight room. I was getting claustrophobic and it was hard for me to think when that happened. I needed some air. Once I was back out in the hall, I lost control of my temper and kicked the door across from the second crime scene.

“Fuck!”

“I agree,” Flo said as she came out and put a sympathetic hand on my back. “We need to control ourselves. This isn’t going to end here.”

I took a deep breath. “I know.”

“What should we do?” Flo asked. She had some ideas, I knew, but was looking to me to either confirm them or state my own since I had a few more years on her. She was right to ask before doing anything since we needed to stay on the same page, especially with something like this.

“We need to increase security and awareness on campus. This is going to happen again unless we take precautions. Set a curfew, but also double if not triple security and police presence here.” I dialed the main office at the station. “This is Walker. Have we heard from the FBI concerning the profiles of our victims? No? Okay, call them again and insist on speaking with anyone who might be able to help. We need to speak with them before another body turns up. I’m not kidding. I’m looking at number two as we speak. Call them up and don’t take no for a fucking answer!”

As I hung up the phone, I could see that the Dean as well as the University President were coming my way, and I knew where the conversation would go. “Don’t start with me, gentlemen. If we don’t work together, this is going to get a lot worse before it gets better.”

“We want to see the body,” the Dean replied softly. “We want to know what we’re dealing with.”

Flo was the first to step in front of them both. “That is not happening, sir, all due respect.”

The Dean was red with anger. “Excuse me?”

“You heard her,” I said, as I was in complete agreement. “That is not happening. This is someone’s son. Considering the condition he’s been left in, which was done on purpose to humiliate and degrade him, we’re not letting anyone who isn’t investigating in to see him.”

“Degrade?” Mr. Butler repeated. He had no idea how bad this was. We were keeping some of the more gruesome details away from the press out of respect for the victims, and the University’s administration was no different, at least not yet. Considering this could happen again, I was not sure if that would be an option as the investigation continued, but we were going to try.

BOOK: Mystery: The Card Counter: (Mystery, Suspense, Thriller, Suspense Thriller Mystery)
7.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Forced Out by Stephen Frey
A Gate at the Stairs by Lorrie Moore
The Cairo Affair by Olen Steinhauer
Keep the Change by Thomas McGuane
Love Is in the Air by Carolyn McCray
Vanilla Beaned by Jenn McKinlay