Rafael (The Santiago Brothers Book One) (6 page)

Just the way she liked it.

LATER
that
morning, Genie parked her duty vehicle in a spot near the back door
of the ME’s office. She kept her conversation with Rafa
professional throughout the trip, but her mind teemed with
questions about his past. He had arrived at the precinct first,
greeting her with a broad grin and a cup of coffee — no doubt a
bribe to let her guard down. His mood was infectious, and she
worked hard to keep a stoic expression.

She longed to know more about his connection
to the Snakes, but Rafa’s hesitancy to offer information about his
life in California didn’t surprise her. She would have to elicit
facts from him if she wanted anything concrete. Hopefully, the case
would lead them in a direction that would force Rafa to be more
forthcoming. They were partners in a multiple murder investigation
and anything Rafa held back could potentially damage the outcome of
the case, or lead to more killings.

Genie put the car in park and turned off the
ignition. She glanced at Rafa. He removed his blazer, his body
angling uncomfortably close to hers. Her eyes came to rest on the
collared shirt stretched tight over his wide, muscled chest. His
movements caused musk and spice to wash over her. She couldn’t stop
herself from inhaling and exhaling and inhaling again. Rafa opened
the door and stepped out. Then he tossed his jacket onto the
seat.

Genie let
out a decided breath and exited the vehicle.
Focus.
She needed to direct all her energies at
the case and not on her devastatingly handsome partner. Hopefully,
the ME would discover some trace evidence. The same killer was at
work again, or possibly a copycat, although Genie considered the
latter not at all likely.

Genie
followed Rafa up the short stack of steps. He quickly rolled up his
shirtsleeves, revealing two muscled biceps, one with a faint tattoo
of something Genie couldn’t make out. But the tattoo didn’t hold
her attention. Deeply tanned skin flexed taut over toned arms
extended to his broad shoulders. He stopped at the top step and
adjusted the crease of the folded sleeves. All her focus went out
the window. Genie, mouth slightly open, stomped onto the upper
step.
Take
your eyes off his guns!
Genie blinked and cleared her throat.

“Did you get those muscles from beating
people up while in the gang?” She cocked an eyebrow at him. Her
attempt to erase the reality of her own gawking backfired. Instead
of a glib comment, he angled himself toward her, placed two large
hands on his slim hips, and gave her a megawatt smile. Genie’s eyes
drifted from his biceps to his hands and then to his hips. She
swallowed, her throat dry with surprising desire.

“I’m glad you approve.” His gaze casually
took in her frame, appreciation sparking in his eyes. “You’re
obviously athletic.”

Of all the nerve.
He was trying to unsettle her.
Well, I’m already unsettled, thank
you very much!
Genie
cast her eyes upward and instead of waiting for him to open the
door, she snatched the handle, flung it open, and marched inside.
She heard Rafa’s laughter behind her. He knew the effect he had on
her. Her teeth ground together. Where was the ME? It was nine a.m.
Shouldn’t the autopsy be happening right about now? “Doctor
Morrison?” she practically yelled.
Calm down, Genie.

“Detective Green?”

Genie heard a muted voice. A middle-aged
woman in scrubs came out from behind a pair of swinging doors, her
gloved hands held high. Genie recognized the dark streaks on the
gloves as blood from a deceased human body. A strong odor of decay
emanated from the room Dr. Morrison stepped out of.

“Doctor. I hope we’re not too late.”

“Nope, right on time. I just started. Grab
some gloves inside on the desk and a face mask if you need
one.”

“This is Detective Santiago.” Genie gestured
to Rafa. “He’s here consulting on the case. Says the style of
killing is similar to something he’s seen out in San Diego.”

“Oh, is that right?” Genie could only see the
doctor’s eyebrows rise. “Well, I’d shake your hand but, you know.”
She shrugged, her voice sounding sheepish.

“I’m not at all offended, Doctor. Nice to
meet you.”

Genie’s spine stiffened. She imagined that
behind her flashed a charming smile spreading across Rafa’s
too-chiseled cheekbones and deepening into two perfect chasms.
Genie didn’t turn around, but the picture was confirmed by the
slightly nervous giggle of the doctor.

“Follow me.” Morrison backed into the doors,
opening them.

Genie scrunched up her nose at the smell and
reached for a surgical mask. Rafa did the same. After they slapped
on latex gloves, Dr. Morrison motioned for them to come to the
autopsy table. The deceased lay nude on the metal slab. Genie was
grateful the woman’s eyes were closed. In her mind, she could still
see the fear displayed in them the night before.

“Maribol Canales. Twenty-three years old and
according to medical records, in good health,” the doctor said.
“Preliminary cause of death is blood loss due to stabbing and as
you can see,” she pointed to the puncture wounds and followed them
down the left side of her body, “the same type of design was on
Alberto Gonzales, Consuela Cruz, and Mario Desanto. Five stab
wounds, beginning with the top in the chest, and four more in a
snake-like pattern, ending in the abdomen. I’ve finished taking
photographs and autopsy prints, and I am about to open her up.
Wanna watch?”

Genie and Rafa exchanged hesitant glances.
She’d witnessed quite a few autopsies as a detective and she didn’t
doubt Rafa had as well. They were never pleasant and usually lasted
a few hours. “We have nowhere to be,” Genie answered.

“Good, and Detective Santiago can fill me in
on what he knows happened in San Diego.”

“Absolutely. Are you sure the first wound was
the one in the chest?” Rafa asked.

Dr. Morrison let out a sigh. “Well… we can’t
always be sure which wound was first, but my expert guess says the
top.” She ran a finger around the opening. “As you can see, the
wound is deeper, which translates to the killer intending that one
to do the most damage. Although the others are extensive, they
appear to be more for the show of design, and not exactly the
deathblow. What did the ME in California think?”

“The same,” came Rafa’s grim reply.

Genie wondered how many deaths he’d
experienced in California. How often did this enterprise kill, and
why? Was it for petty grievances or something more? Genie couldn’t
wrap her head around this case. An older man, a teenage boy, a
mother, and now a young woman. What was their connection? Who would
be next?

“What are we looking at, Detective Santiago?
A serial killer? Gang-related killing?”

“Somewhat the latter, Doctor. I’ve heard this
method of killing described in detail.”

“Gangs, huh?” Dr. Morrison leaned into the
body and slipped a blade into the chest cavity opposite the wounds.
“That’s never good. This is the second murder in the last couple of
days. Four total, correct? I hope you’re not going to keep me too
busy, Detective Green.” She continued to drag the blade to the
middle of the chest and then down the center of the victim’s
mass.

“Me too,” Genie whispered. “Me too.”

****

Three hours later, Genie and Rafa exited the
hospital. She inhaled deeply. “Sometimes I take fresh air for
granted.”

“I’m starving.” Rafa placed a hand on his
stomach. “I’m in the mood for a burger. You game?”

Genie scowled at her partner. “How can you
think of flesh after an autopsy?”

Rafa dimpled. “It’s a mystery. But I do,
every time.”

“We can stop on our way to the crime
scene.”

“Fantastic.”

When they
had passed through the drive-through, and Rafa had his fill of cow,
they drove to the scene of the latest murder. At the apartment
complex, Rafa’s brows bushed. No obvious gang activity. In fact,
the area sported well-maintained lawns and even the potholes in the
parking lots were filled. The difference between lower income areas
in northern Virginia and California were startling.
Some people would
think this rich
.

Rafa lifted the crime-scene tape for Genie to
pass under. Maribol Canales had died from significant blood loss
caused by internal hemorrhaging. Rafa frowned. It would be a few
weeks before they received the toxicology results to verify drugs
in Maribol’s system. If she used, then she might have been killed
over drugs. The victim had to have done something perceived by the
Snakes as seriously wrong in order for that level of punishment.
Yet, Genie had said there were no established Latin gangs in
Springfield — a few rough crowds maybe, but no organized packs. If
their reach had extended to the East Coast, then the Snakes would
be more powerful than he first knew.

As a youth, Rafa belonged to a rough crowd;
he practically formed it himself in school. He smiled at the memory
of the pack of riffraff he had belonged to. The boys were his
family, especially after his father had left. Rafa's smile faded.
What possessed him and his brothers to form a group with some of
their friends was now beyond his understanding. How could they have
been so stupid? They caused a lot of trouble in town: vandalizing
businesses with spray paint, fighting rivals, even participating in
a little bit of burglary. Their mother did all she could to keep
him, Alejandro, and Ricardo out of trouble, but what the Santiago
brothers needed was a father. Theirs had left not long after his
baby brother Ricardo’s fifth birthday. As the years passed, the few
memories Rafa had of his father faded. His mother didn’t speak of
her husband but, to her credit, she never bad-mouthed him. Rafa
knew if he had a father’s influence throughout his young life,
things might have been different. He wouldn’t have caused his
mother such pain and heartache. He and his brothers gave her no
choice but to send them to different family members across the
country.

After highschool, he packed his bags for
cousin Enrique’s family in California. Alejandro had moved to Texas
a couple of years before and when it was time for Ricardo to move
out, he went to Florida. After time spent with the Snakes, Rafa had
made a good life in California. He actually graduated from college
in three years instead of four and made it through the police
academy. More than once he contemplated moving back to Virginia.
However, his obsession with fighting crime and guilt over his
treatment of his mother kept him from returning home… until
now.

Thanks to the Snakes.

“Now forensics has been through the scene,
but it won’t be released without my order,” Genie said.

Rafa didn’t acknowledge her. He followed her
up a short flight of steps until they came to a landing. A mixture
of blood and formaldehyde arrested his senses. The cement slab at
his feet drew his gaze. A recognizable bloodstain tarnished the
texture of the faux marble and a smudged handprint traced down the
length of the wall to the floor. Rafa’s jaw set as the scene came
alive before him.

Genie stood near the stain. “She was attacked
here. I’m thinking she was on her way up the stairs to her
apartment, number 303. Someone from behind startled her, she turned
around, was stabbed—”

“Then she placed a hand to the bloody wound,
collapsed against the wall and turned towards the stairs, but
couldn’t muster the strength to move forward.” Rafa moved closer to
the bloody patch. “She slid down, where she was eventually stabbed
four more times. Then she died in a pool of her own blood,” Rafa
finished.

He heard Genie release a sigh. “Right. That’s
how I pictured it as well.” Genie let out another breath and
smoothed the top of her hair, styled in a simple ponytail. “I don’t
know, Rafa. This could overwhelm us quickly if we don’t find out
who’s committing these murders. One more like this and the press
will be labeling this the work of a serial killer. We’ve never had
one here in Springfield. The residents would go nuts, not to
mention the amount of media coverage the department could expect.
The potential for false leads to come in will increase
exponentially, and as we drown in them, the perp will
disappear.”

“Hey, hey…” Rafa placed his hand lightly on
her shoulder. She fidgeted and Rafa could feel her slight
trembling. Her eyes held genuine worry for the town she’d sworn to
protect. “It hasn’t come to that yet. Let’s just focus on what we
have and our leads. One crisis at a time.” He gave her shoulder a
squeeze.

Genie nodded but stepped away from his touch.
She leaned against the banister, her eyes questioning his. “Well?
You’re the consultant. Consult. What do you think we're looking at
here, besides a few murders?”

She’d retreated behind her shield, the moment
of vulnerability gone. It struck him how quickly she could turn her
emotions on and off. But more surprising was how easily he
responded to her when she was troubled. He’d think about that later
when he had more time.

He rested against the handrail opposite Genie
and crossed his arms. His eyes met hers. “First off, the Snakes
isn’t some petty street gang. They aren’t out to draw attention to
themselves because of the drug trade. Any inquiring minds would
bring undue suspicion on its members, which ultimately leads back
to the restaurant.” Rafa crossed his legs and continued. “As you
already know, the mark of the snake is ostentatious. They want no
mistake about who is responsible for the murders.”

“But you just said they don’t need unwanted
attention.”

“Right, but a punishment is worthless when
you don’t know who is doing the punishing. The mark is for the
community’s sake, to let them know who’s running things… who the
people answer to.”