A Life of Death: Episodes 9 - 12 (12 page)

“You can say that again,” Dr. Kamal interjected in his thick, Egyptian accent while staring over her shoulder. “We will have to find proof to back up what you say.”

I gave them a knowing smile. “That’s the way I’ve had to work for years. Welcome to my world.” After a brief pause, I asked, “Have you ever read the ending of a book first?”

This caught their attention, and both of them turned from the monitor to look at me.

“It’s like that. Given this ability, I know what happened and even who did it sometimes, but proving it is key. Knowing the ending can be a guide to let you know if you’re going astray in the investigation, but you still have to find the evidence to connect the dots in between.”

Dr. Mayna’s eyebrows rose as she considered the analogy. “That’s a pretty good way to look at it.” Then she turned her attention back to the computer monitor and read through an article. Pointing at the screen, she said with excitement, “I think this is it. It’s really rare, but it’s like you said, the boy’s body repaired itself by building more bone.” She looked from me to the Egyptian professor expectantly.

Knowing she was waiting for one of us to ask, I bit. “So, what’s it called?”

“Fibrodysplasia ossificans progressive.”

Both of us stood stunned at the name. “Fibrodysplasia… right,” I said. “I’ve heard of that.”

“Yes, but this is a special type.” She clicked the mouse a few times. “You wouldn’t believe some of the pictures they’ve got up here.”

Dr. Kamal leaned in, his chest hovering next to Dr. Mayna’s ear. Morbid curiosity got the best of me, and I came around to join them. The pictures were gruesome: contorted backs, fused bones, and bone overlapping skin in various places. While accustomed to seeing dead bodies, these depictions of what people had to live with, and the knowledge of just how difficult it was to move from Nakhti’s memory, left me unsettled. “Looks like you found Nakhti’s curse,” I mumbled.

Over the next few minutes, the two professors took notes on the remaining details of the vision. Dr. Kamal informed me that if I was ever in Egypt, to look him up. He was certain he had some things he’d like me to
examine
. I gave them both my card, and we parted ways soon after, because a feeling kept gripping my stomach around the middle, pressing me about something else I’d been putting off: Greg Rayson and Evie.

* * *

In the car on the way to Jessie’s, I finally made a decision. Flipping open my cell at a stoplight, I pulled Rollen’s card out of my coat pocket and dialed his number.

“Rollen,” he answered after two rings.

“Hey, Keen. This is Alex Drummond. We spoke the other day.”

“Yeah, good to hear from ya. How’s the investigation going?”

The light turned green, and I went with the flow of traffic. “It’s taken a few twists and a curve ball, but I’m getting closer. I have one more suspect up here. She’s involved somehow, but I haven’t quite figured out the details.” I thought about having Keen look into her, but it occurred to me that I still didn’t know her last name. “Looks like I’m probably gonna have to head home before the twentieth and begin the search again down there, depending on what I find out later today. But I’ve got some information for you on a separate case that I saw on the television.”

“Oh yeah. What’s that?” he asked.

“Evelyn Cervantes, the girl who went missing about a week ago, I know where she’s at.”

Rollen said, “I thought you might.” His tone was enough for me to know he was smiling. “When you told me to look into that Greg Rayson character, I thought it had to do with your case, but then this afternoon, in walks Mr. Rayson to confess.”

The words surprised me, and I had to slam on the breaks to keep from hitting the slowing car ahead. “He did what?”

“He walked right into the precinct, seemed happy to do it, too. I get the feeling that man’s conscience has been weighing heavily. He’s lost more poundage than any weight-loss program could hope for, especially in a week. I just took a look at his driver’s license and could tell.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, “I only met him once, but I could tell he wasn’t doing well, looked like he was on his last leg. You know he didn’t do it on purpose though, right?”

“I’m sure you’re right, but I don’t got a say in that. I’ll put in a word for him with the DA’s office. They should show him some leniency, but he ain’t gonna shrug the delinquency charge. He confessed to that. Considering he got her drunk, he could go away for a long while. If Mrs. Sanchez pushes it and goes for statutory rape, it could be even longer.”

I doubted she’d go for that, knowing the legal status of her and her workers. She probably wouldn’t want to make it out to be any bigger than it already was, but anger often makes people do irrational things. However, unsure of what Sergeant Keenan Rollen had on Mrs. Sanchez, I didn’t want to give him ammunition to go looking. “She could. Rayson’s been through a lot already. Hopefully he can deal with this.”

“Well, like it or not, he’s goin’ to. Honestly, the way he came waltzin’ in here, I think he made peace with his past and accepted whatever comes his way. He was still depressed, but knew he was doin’ the right thing. How long you been sittin’ on this information, anyhow?”

I didn’t want to admit it, but he was right. I’d been sitting on it far too long. “Uh-h-h,” I stuttered into the phone. “You caught me. About twenty-four hours.”

“Figured as much,” Rollen said. “It’s those hard ones that make us really question whether what we’re doin’ is right. Glad you came around to your senses though. How’d you figure it out anyway?”

This was the question I’d been dreading. “Keen, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you, so I’m not gonna try.”

“Detective, you’re one of those mysterious guys, aren’t you?”

“You might say that, but I get the job done and don’t break any laws doin’ it.” My thoughts went back to Irene’s house and a jolt shot through my gut as once again I remembered turning around to see the smiling face and waving hand of a neighborhood girl. The lie settled on my shoulders, and I knew Jessie had been right.
Gotta watch those lines.

“Well, keep it up,” Rollen replied. “Got any other juicy info?”

“Nah, nothing else. Gotta see what I can find out about this last suspect and talk to a friend, then I’m on a flight home.” I pulled onto Jessie’s street and into a spot.

“Sounds good, Drummond. If you’re ever up this way again, let me know. We’ll get a drink. Some day you gotta tell me how you’re getting this information.”

“Sure thing,” I replied.

Folding my phone closed, I slipped it into my pocket and noticed Jessie’s truck parked a few spots away. The passenger-side door was open and a suitcase was resting on the seat.
Ahhh, Jess, what are you doin’?
I bolted up the stairs and into the apartment. “Jessie!” I shouted.

“Alex,” came his voice from the far bedroom. “I thought you were gonna call me.”

“Yeah I was. Just got off the phone with Rollen,” I said, throwing my overcoat onto the end of the couch.

Jessie came into the living room with two more bags, a small, bathroom travel case, and a laptop bag. “You’re just in time. I’m meetin’ Liz at the Metro. We’re eloping.”

I held up my hands. “No, Jess. Just stop.”

“The hell I will,” he shot back, “and if you try any of that bullshit about tattoos, I swear I’m gonna slap ya.”

The promise gave me pause, not due to its violence, but the reference to tattoos. “What are you talking about?”

“Look, I know why you wanted me to come home the other night, but we’re in love. This infatuation you’ve got with ankh tattoos is too much. Just ’cause she’s got one too doesn’t mean anything.”

She’s got one too?
I wanted to ask, but that would give it away. Jessie still had some unexplained things to fess up to; that much was obvious. Playing along, I said, “But how much do you really know about this girl? You’ve known her for what, a couple months?”

Jessie shrugged, but set down the laptop case as he thought. “The better part of a year now.” After saying as much, he paused and mumbled, “Has it really been that long?” His widening eyes confirmed the math.

“And are you sure you know her well enough?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Jessie said, glowering, his tone stern. He grabbed the bag handle again and strode toward the door.

“Jess, wait,” I said, following behind. “It wasn’t the tattoo that concerned me.”

“So what was it, how she slapped your butt? Come on, man. I like ’em a little freaky. You know that,” he confessed, stopping in front of the door.

He was right there. I wasn’t concerned about the monogamy aspect, at least not too much. They were practically a perfect fit. “It’s not that either. Look, when I touched her ring, I had a vision—well, not just one vision, fifteen visions.”

“Bullshit!” Jessie shouted over his shoulder and swung the door wide.

“Why do you think I couldn’t stand up straight afterward? Why else would I have had to struggle home and pass out on the couch? Damn, Jessie! I woke up this morning with a pounding headache worse than any hangover, and I didn’t have a drop to drink.”

This stopped Jessie. He turned to look at me, a considering look on his face. “No joke?”

I nodded. “No joke. Come back inside. We just gotta talk for a couple minutes.”

Jess lifted a wrist and peered at his watch. “Alright, I’ve got a few minutes, but you’re not stopping me from catching that train.”

“Okay, but hear me out,” I said, stepping out of his way so he could get past. I shut the door, locked the deadbolt, and we returned to the living room. If he was determined to get out, I wouldn’t physically stop him unless my hand was forced, but I most certainly wasn’t going to make it easy.

A LIFE OF DEATH: 12

BY

WESTON KINCADE

- BOOKS of the DEAD -

Sixteen

Revelations

September 17, 2011

Setting his bags down, Jessie slumped onto the couch. “So, what were the visions about?”

I wiped my eyes with my thumb and forefinger and lowered myself into the recliner. After collecting my thoughts, I asked, “How many murders were there?”

Jessie gave me a curious look. I waved my hand in circles, motioning for him to answer. “Fourteen,” he said, “not counting Irene’s husband.”

“Right, and how many visions did I say I had last night?”

“Fif—” he answered, pausing as he made the connection, “teen.” His face brightened, and he looked at me with more concern. “Are you serious? That means the ring had to be present at all of the murders, right?”

I nodded.

“On all of those dead guys’ fingers?”

His eyes pleaded for me to say no, but I couldn’t lie. I nodded once more.

“Then how’d Liz get hold of somethin’ like that?”

“I don’t know,” I said with a shrug. “Trust me, I don’t want to think she had anything to do with it, but that can’t be ruled out.”

Jessie quirked an eyebrow at my mention of her potential involvement.

“However, let’s put that on the back burner and not jump to conclusions.”

The look vanished. “Yeah, ’cause there’s gotta be a perfectly good explanation for this. She’s not that kind of woman. She’s crazy, but in a good way—my kind of crazy,” he said with a smile, his eyes distant, remembering something specific.

I cleared my throat and got his attention. “Right, so when did she get the ring?” I asked.

“Liz and her ex got them from a pawn shop, because it was cheaper. Neither of them could afford much at the time.”

“Jesus, then that leaves any number of people it could have belonged to. When did they get it and where?”

Jessie thought for a moment. “She said it was about a year before we met, so around December or January of ’09,” he said, sounding less than certain.

“You sure?”

“As good as I can be.”

“Crap! That’s after the last victim.”

Jessie glared at me. “Whose side are you on?”

I winced. “Sorry. It’s not that I want her to be guilty. I really hope she isn’t involved. You’re just shootin’ holes in my theories, leavin’ me with more questions than answers.”

“Sorry to shoot down your theories, Alex, but I’m glad to hear Liz isn’t the one.”

“Wait—where did she get it?”

“Some shop back home, I guess.”

“Colorado?”

“Yeah, I don’t think she moved up here until after things went south with him.”

“By going south, you mean, when he died?”

Jessie nodded quietly.

I pressed my head into my hands and massaged my temples with my thumbs.
It doesn’t make sense. How’d the ring get to Colorado in less than a couple months and then happen to make its way here?

“Why do you think there was a fifteenth vision?” he asked, doing the math.

I shook my head. “The ring must have been in contact with that boy.”

“It was a boy?”

“Yep, some kid playing around like he was one of those monks in orange, the ones that set themselves on fire.”

“Buddhist monks protesting Vietnam… yeah, I remember. That’s damned weird, but evidently that ring came from somewhere far off. Look, Al, I gotta go. I get it—this ring.” He shook his hand, fingers splayed. “It’s been through some gruesome stuff, but that doesn’t mean my fiancée is guilty of serial murder.” He looked at the ring once more and gave a visible shiver. Then he got to his feet and picked up his bags. “I know it’s freaky, but Liz gave it to me. I’m gonna be wearing it for the rest of my life, and now I really wish you hadn’t told me.”

The thought of what he must be feeling made me shrink inside. I hated having hurt one of my best friends, but it still didn’t add up. “Something’s not right, Jess. You know that. What is Liz’s last name anyway?”

“I do, but I also know that Liz is innocent. What are you going to do with her last name, look her up and judge her based on her past?”

“Yes, I’m going to look her up,” I stated in frustration, “but her past will speak for itself. It will either exonerate her or incriminate, depending only on the truth. That’s all I’m looking for here, Jess, the truth.”

“Alright, but if you ruin this for me, so help me…

I held up a hand to forestall the statement. “The truth shall set you free.”

Jessie rolled his eyes. “Only because it’s you, and I know you’re thorough. You and I both know cops that will twist the truth to make it fit into their pretty, little theories.”

“Thanks, Jess. I appreciate your confidence.”

“It’s Reider… Elizabeth Reider, and I don’t have time to sit around and help you figure this stuff out. This is my time for happiness, Alex. I’ve been waitin’ for years, and now it’s happened—to me. Dr. Kamal was right. Life’s too short. You’ve gotta seize what’s right in front of you.”

“I realize,” I said with a grin. “Carpe diem, my friend, carpe diem.”

Jessie smiled. “Horace, right?”

“Yep.” We exchanged knowing smiles, remembering Mr. Broaderick, the English teacher who preached that phrase, among others, throughout the year. “Take care, Jess. Where’re y’all heading?”

Jessie shrugged. “Not sure. We’re gonna pick a random flight when we get there. It’s kind of exciting.” As he strode out the door, he said, “Be sure and turn off the lights and lock the door. Don’t know when I’ll be back.”

Then the door closed, and I jumped up from my seat. Grabbing my coat off the couch arm, I slipped out the door when Jessie’s sun-dried, green and white truck began pulling out of his parking spot. I took the stairs two at a time, my car keys in hand. By the time I pulled out, I could still see Jessie’s truck cab looming above the roofs of the four cars between us. “Don’t look back,” I mumbled to the silent car through clenched teeth. “Don’t look back.”

The nearest Metro station was a few miles away, and I followed him into long-term parking, maintaining my distance. Grabbing my fedora, I leapt from the car once he passed a few aisles of cars ahead. Having overcome my naïveté during my previous trip, I quickly followed him through the gates of the Vienna Metro Station and the turnstile, down the escalator, and over the brown tile. He made it to the appropriate stop just as a large group of travelers were entering the Metro car. Jessie peered through the windows until he spotted a casually dressed Liz waving in a burgundy sweater. A large, offset collar spilt over her right shoulder. He stepped inside, and I entered the far end with a small crowd of stragglers. Taking a seat in the back, I tilted my hat down over my face and kept the two lovebirds in sight.

They sat in a section of available seats facing the center aisle. Each of them smiled and held hands while Liz whispered in Jessie’s ear, her right hand playing up under the sleeve of his jacket. At the next stop, I moved closer, but kept four rows of seats between us, keeping my head down and grabbing a newspaper off a free seat. They were so absorbed in each other that I probably could have sat across from them, but that would have just been asking for trouble. A multitude of voices and people surrounded us: a well-dressed man talking on his smartphone, others heading home from the office, a couple ladies in pizzeria outfits who must have been on the way home, and even couples enjoying a vacation to the capital. The cacophony of muttering voices made it impossible to hear Liz and Jessie’s whispered conversation well, but when he grabbed her wrist and jerked her hand out of his sleeve, his sharp reply of “Stop!” was clear and even drew glances from the nearby passengers.

He closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and said, “Please don’t.”

“Why?” she asked, cocking her head slightly.

“It’s a scar… from something I don’t like to think…,” he explained, but his voice calmed and became indiscernible.

“Can I see?” she asked. I was unable to hear it completely, but watched her mouth the words.

Jessie’s shoulders slumped, but he shrugged out of the blue jacket and rolled up his sleeve. My eyes widened as a four-inch-tall, dark shape appeared there, covered in scar tissue. It was the same as I’d seen in each of the visions: the ankh.

What the hell?
I’d never seen it before, but come to think of it, I hadn’t seen him without a long-sleeve shirt since fall of our high-school senior year.

Liz ran two fingers over the scar, slowly, as though savoring the touch, and a visible shudder ran through Jessie. He brushed her hand away. “Now, how come I never saw that?” she asked. “I’ve seen every…” This time her face disappeared behind Jessie’s, and I couldn’t make out the rest of what was said.

So she is surprised.

I shook my head, disappointed. She continued to caress the scar and Jessie gave in. She even lightly grabbed his arm as they talked, and then held her hand over the brand, glancing down at his arm when Jessie wasn’t watching.

Something’s off here. This doesn’t feel right.

They whispered a bit more, the conversation going back to various things I could barely make out, but when she said, “Back at Madessa High, Grandma wouldn’t let…” I couldn’t help myself and leapt into the aisle, rushing toward them.

Jessie stood up and stared down at her. “Madessa High School?” he demanded.

Her eyes widened when he repeated the name, but she tried to play it off with a wave of her hand until she spotted me come to a stop next to Jessie. “You were spying on me?” she screamed at me.

Jessie looked and did a double take. “What the hell are you doin’ here?” He glanced from me to her. “And I thought you were from Colorado.”

She slumped in her chair and stared at the floor, her hands folding across her belly in an attempt to hug herself. Then she began sobbing. “I th-thought you loved me, Jessie. Wh-why does it m-matter where I’m from?”

“It doesn’t, doll, but if you’re lyin’ to me, then that’s different. I love you and want to spend the rest of my life together, but we can’t have secrets from one another.” Turning a condescending gaze on me, he said, “And you. What the hell gives you the right to follow me?”

“I had your best interest in mind, Jess. You know that,” I replied, feeling the awkward silence of the other passengers watching this performance worthy of Jerry Springer.

“Maybe, but you sure as hell don’t trust me, either.” Waving a hand at his fiancée, he said, “This is what I want. Liz is what I want.”

When she heard this, she looked up at him with a tearful smile and reddened eyes. “I love you too, and I wanna spend the rest of my life with you. Let’s go. We’ll leave Alex here. We can get off at the next stop,” she said, quickly grabbing her leather purse and standing. She began rooting around in it.

Shifting my jacket so I had access to my holstered pistol, I said, “Please put the purse d—”

But Jessie interrupted, saying, “Alex, I can’t believe you!” Disappointment tinged his voice. He shook his head. “I just don’t think this is going to work,” he mumbled. I tried to keep an eye on Liz, but his words pulled my mind back. “If you can’t let me be happy, then I can’t deal with you anymore…”

“But what about Madessa High?” I asked, and he stopped rambling. Both of us turned to look at Liz.

She peered up from her purse. Her wide eyes glared at me. “You think you can ruin my life, everything I’ve worked for? All I’ve ever done has been for other people, and I finally find the right man, and you just have to come along and ruin it.”

“You said, ‘Madessa High’,” I repeated in a calm, regulated voice. “You obviously aren’t from Colorado.”

“I am too! There’s more than one school named Madessa.” Her eyes moved to Jessie’s face, and her determination faltered. Her gaze fell and she mumbled, “It is Madessa High School, and you’re right, I’m not from Colorado. I’m from Tranquil Heights, just like you.”

“And you murdered fourteen people,” I said, staring holes through her.

Her head flew up, and with brown, red-rimmed eyes blazing with hatred, she pulled a nine-millimeter pistol from her purse and leveled it at my chest from barely two feet away. It looked much like my own. My free hand subtly felt my side. The holster was occupied, and I breathed a silent sigh of relief.

Jessie’s eyes went wide as saucers, as did most people in the train, but the shock of the moment left them stunned. “Jessie, honey, you coming?” she asked, turning loving eyes on him that glanced back at me a moment later, again filled with hatred. The quick emotional change at a split-second’s notice and her steady aim caught me off guard, but told me she was capable with the weapon.

“B-baby,” Jessie stuttered. “Why’d you go and do that?”

“What else could I do? He was going to put me in jail.”

Jessie shook his head and looked at me. “Alex wouldn’t do that, not unless you really kill—” Stopping himself, I watched the denial slide away from his eyes. He turned back to Liz, who was backing toward the door, but maintaining a solid grasp on the handholds with her free hand. A pained look infused Jessie’s face. “You didn’t really do it, did you?”

It seemed as though a pin drop could be heard throughout the Metro car. The slight muttering that had begun stopped to await her answer.