He pulled his pants up and went into the bedroom and lay upon the bed sheet that still smelled of her. He looked up at the ceiling and stared at the hooks for several minutes. Memories of the women before her flooded his mind. There had been many; he could recall each one of them, he could visualize their lips, their facial expressions and he could remember the sounds of their moans, and their screams. He could not recall many names; to him they were merely objects, there for his pleasure. There was only one that he could remember every single detail about. Everything - including her name. It was that one who filled his thoughts as he drifted off to sleep while looking at the chains that hung down from the ceiling. They were empty now, but that would be temporary.
Stafford, VA
December 28, 2009
Colonel Andrew Carmichael awoke from a deep sleep to loud and insistent banging at the front door. He jumped up and made his way down the dark hallway to find out what the cause of the commotion was. He peered out through the small pane of glass in the middle of the door and saw two Stafford County Sheriff Deputies on the front step.
"Good evening Colonel Carmichael, sorry for the late hour, Sir. May we please come inside and have a word?"
Andrew nodded his approval and moved back from the doorway opening up a passage for the two deputies to enter through. As he closed the door behind him one of the deputies asked, "Is there someone in your family or a friend nearby that you would like to call over?"
Being a Marine for 21 years and a party to several death notifications, Andrew knew he was about to receive devastating news. "No, I will be fine on my own. Who is it?"
"Sir, we regret to inform you that at approximately three o'clock Pacific Standard Time today, your wife was found dead near a lighthouse in San Diego County. The cause of death is being investigated as a homicide, Sir. We are extremely sorry for your loss..."
Andrew quit listening after the word homicide. His thoughts were spinning, and he felt the air leave his body swiftly as if somebody had punched him square in the chest. He felt his legs begin to buckle and caught the wall with his hand. As he held on to the wall he asked, "what, who, what the hell....who found her? How, how did she die? Did she suffer..."
The larger deputy leaned down next to Andrew and said, "Sir, we do not have any additional information and we are not privy, as of now, to the details. San Diego PD will be in contact with you shortly, and I need a contact number to pass along to the homicide detective handling your wife's case."
Andrew shrugged the deputy's hand off of his shoulder, stood up and scribbled his cell number down on a scrap piece of paper from the entry table.
“Tell whoever is handling my wife’s case to call me immediately,” Andrew ordered as he tossed the paper in the direction of the deputies.
As soon as the front door closed behind them, Andrew picked up a large crystal vase that sat on the entry table and threw it across the front room. It shattered leaving a gaping hole in the drywall. Glass shards flew in every direction, many making their way to the entry tile.
Andrew got dressed, grabbed his truck keys and wallet and headed out the front door in a hurry. He got in and started up his truck, threw it in drive and pushed the gas pedal all the way to the floor. He knew where he was going. He should have gone before something bad had happened to her. He knew something wasn't right. He had sensed her fear; he had heard it in her voice the last time they spoke on the phone, just three days prior. He got on the highway and headed for the airport.
Encinitas, CA
December 24, 2009
Kali felt her stomach tighten as she hit her blinker and slowly made the right turn into Nate's subdivision. There were so many emotions swirling around inside of her. She felt that at any moment she might breakdown in a fit of tears or hyperventilation, and she had no idea which one would come first.
She did not have concrete evidence that anything was going on between Nate and Olivia, but Kali had become a firm believer in trusting her inner voice. She had read the energy between them loud and clear the past several times Nate had come to the facility she and Olivia both worked at.
As Kali approached Nate's street, she was overwhelmed by a deep sense of longing. God how she had missed his touch this past week. It was Christmas Eve. Even though he had told her he had to get caught up on reports, she desperately needed to feel his hands on her, and she didn't want him to face Christmas morning alone. She knew this would be considered an act of defiance on her part. She knew there would be a price to pay for that. She didn't care.
Kali gasped when she saw a flash of red in her peripheral vision as she drove down the street towards his house. She slammed on the brakes and peered into her rear view mirror but couldn't make out the vehicle through the sheets of rain pouring down. She threw her SUV into reverse and accelerated until she was almost even with the red sports car. Kali read the license plate and there was no mistake - it was Olivia's car.
Kali parked and walked slowly up the driveway, grasping at what little hope she had that this could possibly be some sort of misunderstanding. She knocked softly on the door and bit-by-bit little things began rushing into her mind. Two years together and she still didn't have a key to his place. Although, at this moment, she was relieved that she did not. Kali had no idea how she would handle what was about to happen. The sound of footsteps nearing the door caught her attention. She steeled herself and sucked in a deep breath as the front door opened.
"What are you doing here baby?" His eyes were looking into hers, uncharacteristically soft and gentle, his mouth wearing a slight frown, perhaps concern of some sort.
Kali opened her mouth in an attempt at forming words but the reply came out so quietly it was barely audible. "I didn't want you to be alone tonight."
"Oh baby, I am extremely busy and under orders to have these reports completed before we leave for vacation. I want you to get yourself safely back home and tucked in. We have a big day tomorrow."
She glanced into the dimly lit front room and could only make out a table full of papers. No Olivia. But she knew full well that Nate would never turn her away under normal circumstances. His sexual appetite was unlike that of any man she had ever known. He was insatiable. His desire to own her body fully and regularly was undeniable. He wouldn't be sending her away for any reason, other than perhaps if there was another woman in his bed. The only logical explanation for him turning her away at the front door was that little red sports car parked half way down the street. She had the proof she needed. She didn't say another word. She turned sharply on her heel and walked away, she could feel his eyes on her the whole way to her SUV.
In that moment, Kali had no way of fully understanding how devastating this would be to her entire existence. She was at the beginning of a journey that would show her, in vivid detail, just how many possible ways there was for a soul to be shattered.
Point Loma, CA
December 25, 2009
Detective Paul Sutton paced back and forth along the sandy stretch of beach outside the cordoned off crime scene, his mind racing as rapidly as his heartbeat. In all his years as a homicide detective, he had yet to witness a woman's body with the amount of damage done to it that this one exhibited. Certain that the woman had suffered sexual assault, his thoughts didn't revolve around the fear she must have felt during that atrocious act. What his mind focused on were the hours of torture she had clearly endured.
Upon initial inspection of her body, it was impossible to put a number on the amount of wounds she had suffered. There was not one piece of her body left untouched. The person that inflicted those wounds had to be the worst of the worst; a depraved soul unable to connect on anything remotely resembling a human level. A monster Sutton thought, pure evil.
In the distance Sutton saw his partner walking down the embankment towards the scene. Surprised that he had been able to break away from Christmas Day with his family; he felt bad for Ryan but, fortunate to have another set of eyes on the gruesome crime scene.
"Hey old man, any indication who she is," asked his partner, Ryan Bradley. "Sutton, you feeling okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," he snapped wanting to focus on the scene. "No - nothing at all. Whoever did this left it clean. Maybe forensics can give us something, anything to crack this case open so we can locate and nail this bastard."
His face was flushed, and his skin felt clammy. He knew that he needed to get some sleep. Too many years of too much caffeine, nicotine and stress coupled with the same amount of years with a sleep pattern resembling that of a vampire had wreaked havoc on his heart. At his last physical exam, his doctor had put him on heart medication and warned him of what refusing to take steps to better his health would ultimately lead to. He was feeling it now, more and more, each time his stress level rose.
The department had offered Sutton a nice retirement package, but he was too stubborn to concede defeat and give up the one true love of his life - being a detective was what he lived for. If continuing on the job cost him his life, by way of his ticker giving out on him, he felt that was a fair trade.
He and Ryan returned to the station, and he called the medical examiners office to inquire as to when the ME's report on the deceased woman would be completed. He was given the standard answer, which infuriated him. This wasn't a
standard
case, and he wasn't a
standar
d detective, and it was that attitude which had secured his well-known reputation. Feeling fatigued, Sutton closed it up and headed home for some much needed rest.
After weeks of beating down every possible lead, Sutton grew increasingly frustrated by the lack of internal direction he had concerning the case. He had learned the identity of the woman, as well as the identity of her husband, who was becoming a major pain in Sutton's ass. There was no tangible forensic evidence, no eyewitnesses and no one connected to Laura Carmichael who had a clear motive. Sutton began to wonder if he had lost his touch, and if his health issues were causing him to overlook details that he normally wouldn't miss.
On a Monday night, no different from any other Monday night, Sutton was seated at his antique dining room table getting ready to enjoy the finest frozen dinner that money could buy, when he felt a tightness in his chest that caused him to become winded. As he slumped over in pain, he reached for his phone and managed to punch in his partner's phone number just before blacking out.
Opening his weary eyes, he scanned the bright white room searching for signs of affiliation to anything familiar to him, but he found none. Feeling tired, he closed his eyes and began to drift back into the void he had just come out of when he heard his partner's voice.
"Hey old man, they say you might live," Ryan said, trying to make his tone appear chipper, but Sutton recognized the concern.
"It will take something bigger than a heart attack to take me out," Sutton said, opening his eyes and giving a weak smile.
"How you feeling?"
"I'm great, ready to get back on the Carmichael case," Sutton said.
"Partner, they aren't going to let you waltz back into the station until you're cleared. You really ought to reconsider the retirement package. Go out and do some living - away from the evil crap we have to deal with."
Sutton thought about what Ryan said for a moment, and a moment was long enough, "Evil is what I live for, Ryan."
Carlsbad, CA
September 3, 2011
Kali sat alone in her orderly and masterfully decorated seaside Carlsbad condo. The walls were painted in muted colors, the furniture boasted straight lines and no patterns. She poured herself a glass of wine in celebration of closing on her new Laguna Drive residence just blocks from the beach with ocean views and a hefty price tag. The price tag validated, and entitled her, to that coveted label of ‘successful’.
Looking around at her beautiful new space she should have been filled with a sense of accomplishment, but Kali felt alone. The type of alone that makes your heart ache and your soul beg for human connection, human touch. She gazed out the french doors of her living room as the brilliant orange sunset melted into the deep blue water.
She wondered if she would ever find the one. You know, the one who was supposed to magically appear straight off the set of a Disney movie. That perfect haired, white toothed, impeccably put together, and as charming as a make believe fairy tale could conjure up man. Yes, the one who would magically appear at Kali's doorstep, fall madly in love with her and, after a perfect six-month courtship, would gracefully kneel and ask for her hand in marriage. Kali always wondered what happened after that. Did the two of them have 2.5 kids and live in a fabulous house that boasted a bright white picket fence out front guarding the prince and princess from any malevolent force that might dare to tread into their fairy tale? Or did they end up divorced after eight years and squander the small nest egg they had managed to stuff away in the king’s bank on matching divorce attorneys? Or worse? Kali wondered if she had finally reached the point where she was (gasp) a non-believer in happily ever after bullshit. Oh the horror if her Mom ever heard Kali say or even suspect that she had dared think such an evil thought!
Kali Hanson was fast approaching 35 with a solid career as an orthopaedic rehabilitation specialist at the top facility in San Diego County. She had great friends, an awesome family and lived in a community she adored. But none of that kept her warm at night.
Such thoughts were pointless. Uncurling from her chair she strode purposefully into her bathroom decorated in warm beige and sea foam greens and fished in her vanity drawer for a hair tie. The humid evening breeze blowing in from the open french doors had caused her thick mane of long dark hair to curl up into an uncontrollable mess. The constant chore of pushing it out of her eyes was beginning to drive her mad.