Glimpse of Death: A Riveting Serial Killer Thriller Page 28

  “Me?” he replied, seemingly amused. “No, I did health sciences, but Derek and I took a few courses together in junior year. He had an edge, something I wanted to have, the way he looked at those bitches. I saw it in his eyes, and we talked some back then, but I guess he wasn’t ready. I wanted him to take me there, to show me how it’s done.”

  “Show you how what’s done?” Fradella asked.

  “Pfft…” Walden reacted, visibly disgusted. “You’re not paying attention. I was itching to get even, to teach those sluts a lesson, but he still thought he could be normal, have a family like everyone else. He went his separate way. Such an idiot… wasted so much time,” he spat the words like they burned his lips.

  “Then what changed?”

  “About two years ago, his dad had died a horrible death because of his whore of a mother. He buried him, then he looked me up the same day, mad as hell, livid. I’d be mad too, in his shoes.”

  “How did his father die?” Fradella asked.

  “Cirrhosis. The loser drank himself dead after the slut left him.”

  “That must have been the trigger event,” Tess said in a low voice.

  “Uh-huh,” Michowsky replied, just as quietly.

  “So you were just the gofer for Derek,” Tess said, looking Walden in the eye, and struggling to contain her disgust. “He’d snap his fingers and you’d just rush to do his bidding? Is that it?

  Walden threw his legs out of the car, intending to get out. He was visibly agitated, frustrated, bursting with the urge to set the record straight, just where they wanted him to be to keep on talking.

  Fradella placed his hand firmly on his shoulder. “Stay where you are,” he said.

  Walden put his legs back inside the car and cussed quietly. He didn’t seem willing to say anything else, although he pressed his lips together tightly, as if to keep the bursting flood of words sealed inside his mouth.

  Tess smirked at him, then said, turning casually toward Fradella. “Yep, just what I thought; gofer. Nothing more. Derek was the mastermind, not this putz.”

  “No!” Walden shouted. “You don’t know shit! We were partners, Derek and I. He wanted them to look a certain way, that’s true, but I got to choose. Then I’d tell him who, and he’d go pay them a visit or two, see if he liked them. Then I’d pick them up, and have fun with them for a while.”

  “You’d get to choose?” Tess asked again, although she already knew the answer, not only from Walden’s statement, but also from the behavioral profile. “You? How come?”

  Walden licked his lips and gave her a look that sent shivers of revulsion down her spine. His nostrils flared, as if he inhaled her scent, and just watching him made her sick.

  “I had to like them,” Walden said, “Derek only wanted to see the bitches whoring and hear them screaming, that’s what got him off. And they’d all be whoring with me this time, not like in college. Not anymore,” Walden added, then laughed, with a raspy, loaded voice. “Oh, man, were they whoring with me, and then some.” His sickening laughter resounded strangely in the almost empty parking lot, getting a few other officers to turn and look.

  “Keep talking,” Tess said, crinkling her nose. “You’re going down for murder, multiple counts. Probably you’re going to hang for it. Can’t wait.”

  “No, no, no,” he shouted, “you can’t do that! I never killed anyone, I swear! And you have to understand, it was their fault. They didn’t even look at me; it was like I wasn’t even a human being. They thought they were too damn good for me, but I showed them.”

  Fradella rolled his eyes, hearing his rant. “Did you read him his rights?” he asked Michowsky.

  “Twice,” Michowsky replied humorously.

  “But I got them all in the end, didn’t I?” Walden continued. “All of them!”

  “You know what would make my day, Walden?” Tess asked, while a hint of a smile appeared on her tired face.

  Walden stopped talking and looked at her with fear-dilated pupils and a gaped mouth.

  “If you made a run for it right now,” she said, “while I haven’t yet put the safety back on my weapon.” She chuckled, feeling a wave of relaxation ease the tension in her muscles. The case was finally closed. She could breathe. “Wanna go for it, huh? What do you say?”

  “Uh-uh,” Walden replied, then pulled away from them, sliding farther on the rear seat of the police car.

  They laughed, as Walden remembered he had the right to remain silent.

  “Don’t worry, Mike,” Tess added, “where you’re going you’ll get plenty of action, if you know what I mean. You won’t be complaining of abstinence ever again.”

  55

  An Invitation

  Tess watched the marked car holding Walden in the back seat as it pulled away, then she noticed Melissa was still sitting on the bumper of the ambulance, shivering under a blanket. She headed toward her with a frown. Doc Rizza and AJ were about to load Derek Henderson’s body onto the stretcher and she didn’t want Melissa to see all that. The zipper closing on a black body bag was a sound she’d never forget.

  “Why are you still here?” she asked an EMT, completely ignoring Melissa.

  “She refuses to climb onto the stretcher,” the young EMT replied. “She won’t even let me start an IV. She might go into shock.”

  “I don’t need an IV,” Melissa replied, still shuddering at times under the warm sun and the thick blanket.

  Tess crouched with some difficulty in front of her, keen on making eye contact at the same level with her.

  “Woman, don’t be an idiot. This EMT here’s just trying to make a living, and you’re giving him crap.”

  Melissa chuckled sadly.

  “Remember what you told me about those know-it-all assholes who make a health professional’s life hell?” Tess asked.

  “Pricks,” Melissa said.

  “Huh?”

  “I said pricks, not assholes.”

  “Same kind of schmuck altogether, Mel. Don’t be one of them, all right?”

  Melissa sighed and stood, then gave Tess a hand and helped her up. If the EMT had known to ask, Tess would’ve probably accepted a place on the second stretcher inside that bus. She felt bone-tired, but it was a good feeling.

  “Your mom’s on her way,” she said, and squeezed Melissa’s hand. “She’s bringing Charlie. As soon as they land, someone will pick them up and bring them to you.”

  “Thank you,” Melissa whispered, while fresh tears pooled in her eyes.

  Tess hesitated for a second, unwilling to meddle in other people’s business, but then, watching her climb quietly on the stretcher, thought she’d ask anyway. “Hey, listen. If you’d allow me, I could call your neighbor, Ryan Stafford, to be there when you wake up. Would you like that?”

  She averted her eyes for a little while, then looked at her and whispered, “Yes, I’d love that.”

  “All right,” Tess replied quietly, then continued a little louder and in a business-like tone of voice. “Are you back on duty tomorrow? I’m due to have my stitches removed, and no way in hell am I letting anyone else touch me.”

  She smiled between tears, but before she could answer, the EMT slammed the doors shut. “We need to roll, ma’am.”

  She tapped on the ambulance door twice, then walked away toward Fradella’s vehicle.

  “Winnett,” she heard Pearson’s voice call. He’d just pulled in, raising a cloud of dust and gravel around his car. She rolled her eyes but walked briskly toward him.

  “Yes, sir,” she acknowledged him with a timid smile.

  “How did the DNA composites work for you? Anything you’d like to share?”

  “Ugh,” she blurted, but then swallowed her frustration and continued, in a more professional tone. “They worked really well as an elimination tool. We ruled out suspects faster. But that guy,” she pointed toward Henderson’s body, “all we could think of was he looked familiar and tried to place him, when the sketch was right in front of us the whole time
. It pisses me off, sir, because it was right there, all of it. The dimple in his chin, the eyes, the hair, and we just—”

  “I heard you managed to let a perp live,” he cut her off, giving the crowded crime scene a thorough look. He wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t frowning either. “You could’ve let both bastards live, you know. It would’ve helped your case with the committee.”

  She frowned, drawn back to the stark realities of her job. “I couldn’t; I had to—”

  “Crime Scene Unit will take over here, Winnett. You’re dismissed.”

  “Sir?”

  “Take some goddamned time off, for Chrissake.”

  She grinned. “Is that an order?”

  He didn’t reply; he climbed back into his black SUV and started the engine. Before pulling out of the lot, she thought she saw a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

  Fradella’s phone chimed, and he approached quickly after reading the message.

  “Donovan confirmed it was Derek Henderson who disposed of the bodies. He used a… three-dimensional analysis of the video surveillance imagery to ascertain the suspect’s height, and it matches Henderson. Walden is too short.”

  “Was that you, speaking like that?” Tess asked, almost laughing. “All those big words?”

  “It’s all Donovan with the mouthfuls,” he replied. “All I did was read the message. Hey, have you been cleared to eat like normal people do? Or are you still doing that green hospital Jell-O?”

  “I don’t think she knows what color hospital Jell-O is, Todd,” Michowsky commented.

  She laughed. “Nah… I haven’t done hospital Jell-O in a few days,” she added, and winked.

  “How about some burgers at that fierce friend of yours, and some adult beverages?” Michowsky asked. “I can still smell those burgers he brought you. It was the first time in my life I thought about stealing food from a bedridden person.”

  “Whoa,” Fradella reacted. “Are you about to confess a crime?”

  She looked at Fradella, then at Michowsky, and her smile widened. It felt good to end a day like that, with friends, but she wasn’t used to it, and her first thought was to refuse. She frowned a little, considering the invitation.

  “You know, guys, what we have here, this interagency cooperation, this, um, partnership of ours is starting to feel a lot like friendship, and I don’t know how to handle it,” she admitted, then watched them fidget uneasily, waiting for her to continue. “But I’m a quick study. Let’s grab that burger… I’m starving.”

  “Cool,” Fradella said, then slapped his hands together, rubbing them in anticipation.

  “Todd’s buying,” Michowsky said. “He lost the bet. Would twenty cover us for three burgers and some beers?”

  “I’m sure we can work things out,” Tess replied, then took Fradella’s arm while walking to the car. “The bartender is a good friend of mine; he might run us a tab.”

  “Wait a minute,” Fradella reacted, “what bet?”

  ~~ The End ~~

  Read on for previews from:

  Dawn Girl: Tess Winnett Book One

  A short-fused FBI Agent who hides a terrible secret. A serial killer you won’t see coming. A heart-stopping race to catch him.

  *** and ***

  Executive

  A rookie private investigator. An unexpected killer. Espionage, current technology, warfare, and a hint of greed.

  ~~~~~~~~

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  Preview: Executive

  DAWN GIRL

  Leslie Wolfe

  A Novel

  *** PREVIEW ***

  Chapter One

  Ready

  She made an effort to open her eyes, compelling her heavy eyelids to obey. She swallowed hard, her throat raw and dry, as she urged the wave of nausea to subside. Dizzy and confused, she struggled to gain awareness. Where was she? She felt numb and shaky, unable to move, as if awakening from a deep sleep or a coma. She tried to move her arms, but couldn’t. Something kept her immobilized, but didn’t hurt her. Or maybe she couldn’t feel the pain, not anymore.

  Her eyes started to adjust to the darkness, enough to distinguish the man moving quietly in the room. His silhouette flooded her foggy brain with a wave of memories. She gasped, feeling her throat constrict and burning tears rolling down her swollen cheeks.

  Her increased awareness sent waves of adrenaline through her body, and she tried desperately to free herself from her restraints. With each useless effort, she panted harder, gasping for air, forcing it into her lungs. Fear put a strong chokehold on her throat and was gaining ground, as she rattled her restraints helplessly, growing weaker with every second. She felt a wave of darkness engulf her, this time the darkness coming from within her weary brain. She fought against that darkness, and battled her own betraying body.

  The noises she made got the man’s attention.

  “I see you’re awake. Excellent,” the man said, without turning.

  She watched him place a syringe on a small, metallic tray. Its handle clinked, followed by another sound, this time the raspy, telling sound of a file cutting through the neck of a glass vial. Then a pop when the man opened the vial. He grabbed the syringe and loaded the liquid from the vial, then carefully removed any air, pushing the piston until several droplets of fluid came out.

  Dizziness overtook her, and she closed her eyes for a second.

  “Shit,” the man mumbled, then opened a drawer and went through it in a hurry.

  She felt the needle poke deeply in her thigh, like it was happening to another person. She felt it, but distantly. She perceived a subdued burning sensation where he pushed the fluid into her muscle, then that went away when he pulled the needle out. She closed her weary eyes again, listless against her restraints.

  The man cracked open ammonia salts under her nose, and she bounced back into reality at the speed of a lightning strike, aware, alert, and angry. For a second she fought to free herself, but froze when her eyes focused on the man in front of her.

  He held a scalpel, close to her face. In itself, the small, shiny, silver object was capable of bringing formidable healing, as well as immense pain. The difference stood in the hand wielding it. She knew no healing was coming her way; only pain.

  “No, no, please…” she pleaded, tears falling freely from her puffy eyes, burning as they rolled down her cheeks. “Please, no. I… I’ll do anything.”

  “I am ready,” the man said. He seemed calm, composed, and dispassionate. “Are you ready?”

  “No, no, please…” she whimpered.

  “Yeah,” he said softly, almost whispering, inches away from her face. “Please say no to me. I love that.”

  She fell quiet, scared out of her mind. This time was different. He was different.

  Chapter Two

  Dawn

  “What if we get caught?” the girl whispered, trailing behind the boy.

  They walked briskly on the small residential street engulfed in darkness, keeping to the middle of the road.
There were no sidewalks. High-end homes lined up both sides, most likely equipped with sensor floodlights they didn’t want to trip.

  She tugged at his hand, but he didn’t stop. “You never care about these things, Carl, but I do. If we get caught, I’ll be grounded, like, forever!”

  The boy kept going, his hand firmly clasping hers.

  “Carl!” she raised the pitch in her whisper, letting her anxiety show more.

  He stopped and turned, facing her. He frowned a little, seeing her anguish, but then smiled and caressed a loose strand of hair rebelling from under her sweatshirt’s hood.

  “There’s no one, Kris. No one’s going to see us. See? No lights are on, nothing. Everyone’s asleep. Zee-zee-zee. It’s five in the morning.”

  “I know,” she sighed, “but—”

  He kissed her pouted lips gently, a little boyish hesitation and awkwardness in his move.

  “We’ll be okay, I promise,” he said, then grabbed her hand again. “We’re almost there, come on. You’ll love it.”

  A few more steps and the small street ended into the paved parking lot of what was going to be a future development of sorts, maybe a shopping center. From there, they had to cross Highway 1. They crouched down near the road, waiting for the light traffic to be completely clear. They couldn’t afford to be seen, not even from a distance. At the right moment, they crossed the highway, hand in hand, and cut across the field toward the beach. Crossing Ocean Drive was next, then cutting through a few yards of shrubbery and trees to get to the sandy beach.

  “Jeez, Carl,” Kris protested, stopping in her tracks at the tree line. “Who knows what creatures live here? There could be snakes. Lizards. Gah…”