Authors: M.Z. Kelly
“Everything went well,” Noah said. “We repaired the artery and reattached the severed tendon.”
“What about…” I took a breath, stemming the tears that threatened to flood from my eyes. “Will Bernie be able to work again?”
His blue eyes blinked several times. “It’s too early to say. I’d like to keep him here for a few days and begin physical therapy when he’s ready. We’ll know more then.”
I nodded, my head slumping forward.
Noah came over and held me for a moment. He then took my arm and we walked down the corridor, away from the operating room. We went outside to the small patio adjacent to Hart Veterinary Hospital. Bernie’s surgery had taken several hours and I saw that the sun was coming up, filtering through a stand of eucalyptus trees.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Noah asked after we sat down.
“You haven’t seen the news?”
He shook his head and smiled. “I was a little busy last night.”
I thanked him again for everything he’d done for Bernie, then said, “There was another killing, this time on Hollywood Boulevard. Macy turned on his partner, Joshua Brown, killed him, and used his body in a display. We chased after him. When Bernie clamped down on his leg for a second time, he used a knife on him. Macy jumped from a window onto the roof of an adjacent building and got away in the aftermath.”
Noah’s response was muted. “I’m sorry, babe.”
I was running on empty, exhausted from last night’s events and my lack of sleep. I’d talked to Joe a couple of times during the night. Despite a building by building search of downtown Hollywood, there had been no sign of Macy. The only good to come out of the long, miserable night was that Marianne Dolan had been freed and reunited with her parents.
“It’s always going to be like this, isn’t it?”
Noah’s words surprised me. I glanced over at him. “What?”
“Your job, the danger.”
I exhaled and nodded. “It’s not going away, if that’s what you mean.”
Noah’s gaze had moved off and he didn’t respond. I finally said, “You’re still having doubts, aren’t you?”
He met my eyes again. “I’m worried about you, if that’s what you mean.”
I regarded him for a long moment after he’d looked away. “Tell me about her.” He looked back at me, his blonde brows inching together. “Your fiancée.”
He leaned forward, bracing his arms on his knees, and looked down. “Stephanie and me…we were college sweethearts. We planned to get married when the war came along. She understood when I joined the army—the first time.” He met my eyes. “When I re-upped, she was against it.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “As it turned out, I guess she was right. All I know is that, with everything that happened—it was too much for her.”
“Where is she—now?”
“Married. She has a little girl.”
I realized in that moment we were both, in different ways, still dealing with the trauma of our past lives. It occurred to me that maybe we weren’t unique in that way. I knew that everyone wrestles with their past, both the good and the bad things that happen to us. That realization made me say, “I talked to my mother yesterday.” I looked at him. “About my dad.”
“What did she say?”
“Just that both Leo and Oz were close to my dad and may know something more than they’ve let on.”
“Are you going to talk to them?”
I nodded. “I can’t quit on this. I’ll never quit, until I have the truth.” I regarded him again. “That’s a problem, isn’t it?”
He sighed. “It’s not just that.” He took a moment to gather his thoughts. “After I lost my leg and almost died, it gave me a new perspective on things. I realized how fragile life is. When I think about you, the possibility that I might lose you because…because of everything...” His gaze drifted away, came back. “That’s all been brought home to me again after what happened last night.”
There were tears in my eyes as I leaned into him and rested my head on his shoulder. Maybe it was the prospect of losing Bernie, but the truth of what he’d said struck home. Life was fragile. I’d lost my love-dad as a child and had never gotten over it. My bio-dad was also lost to me, unknown, and never a part of my life. I’d also been in several failed relationships trying to make up for the losses in my life. And now there was Noah. It felt like our relationship and my entire life had been pushed to the edge of a cliff, and was in danger of falling into the darkness, only to be lost forever.
A watery question escaped my lips. “Where do we go from here, Noah?”
I felt his hand tighten around mine. “I don’t know, babe. I just don’t know.”
After checking on Bernie again, I got home around ten and went to bed. I slept until two, when my phone rang. I was half asleep as I answered it and heard Joe’s voice.
“There’s been another message from Macy.”
I sat up on my bed, trying to focus. “What’s going on?”
“He contacted Crime Scene LA again. He’s planning on taking another victim tonight. Greer wants to meet with everyone at your shop at four.”
“I’ll jump in the shower and see you there.”
“How’s Bernie?”
“He’s going to need lots of therapy. Not sure about his future on the job.”
“You okay?”
I took a breath, brushed the hair out of my eyes, and lied, “I’m fine. See you in a couple of hours.
After calling the hospital to check on Bernie, I showered and dressed. I was making myself a cup of soup when Natalie and Mo knocked on my door. They’d heard about Bernie on the news and asked about him.
I showed them inside and said, “He’s going to be at the hospital for a few days, then he’ll need lots of therapy.”
“I’ll help get him back on his feet,” Natalie promised. “We’ve got a pretty good connection.”
She was right about that. Bernie was always animated when around my gorgeous friend. “I appreciate that.”
“How
you
doing?” Mo asked, regarding me with one eye.
“Hanging in. It was a long night.”
“Nana’s still got her ancient titties in a ringer over everything that happened,” Natalie said. “The only good thing ‘bout last night is that Izzy got a ton of visitors to his new magic shop.”
I got my soup out of the microwave. “I have a feeling that everyone will be talking about Nana’s party for years to come.” I then changed the subject, asking how our attorney was doing.
“Izzy’s been hypnotizing him,” Natalie said. “He’s like a new man, full of confidence.”
“More like bullshit,” Mo said. “He’s startin’ to remind me of a politician, doesn’t know when to shut up.”
I drank my soup, then said, “Maybe it will work in our favor since he has to take on Mean Gene.” I checked the clock on my wall. “I’d better get going. I’m going by the hospital to check on Bernie, then have a meeting at four.”
I was getting my sweater when Natalie said, “Did you get an invitation to Charlie’s wedding?”
“Wedding? What are you talking about?”
“He and that shrew are getting married,” Mo said. “I just assumed you knew all about it.”
“Jessica? He’s really marrying Jessica?”
Natalie laughed. “It’s gonna be the wedding of the decade. According to the announcement, they’re gonna tie the knot on the Walk of Fame.”
***
I thought about my former partner marrying Jessica Barlow as I drove to the hospital to check on Bernie and vacillated between fits of anger and laughter. It had occurred to me, more than once since he’d retired, that my former partner had lost his mind. Marrying Jessica now confirmed what I suspected, and spending his golden years with her was the last thing Charlie needed. If I was invited to the wedding, I didn’t know if I could attend.
I found Bernie still in the recovery room at the hospital. He was a little listless, but was happy to see me, giving me big wet kisses. Noah said he was on lots of pain medication and would probably be more responsive in a day or two. I promised to try and stop by that night.
As I drove to Hollywood Station to meet with the feds, I thought about what Christine Javier had said about Quinton Macy recreating death rituals that he associated with the murder of his sister. I was convinced now that what happened to Corinne Macy was the key to solving our case, and I was determined to try and focus our investigation in that regard.
I met up with Joe Dawson in the hallway as the other players began assembling in Lieutenant Oz’s office. I updated him on Bernie’s condition, then said hello to Oz as he passed by us. He looked haggard, like the years on the job had caught up with him all at once.
“You get any shut-eye?” Joe asked me, taking my attention away from Oz.
“A little. How ‘bout you?”
He shook his head. “I think we’re getting close to the end game on this and I couldn’t sleep.”
I tilted my head toward Oz’s office. “Let’s see if we can’t put this case, then ourselves, to bed.”
Fifteen minutes later, we’d assembled with all the members of the original taskforce, except for Rose Castillo, who was teaching a class. Leo took a seat next to me, asking about Bernie, before Darcy and Buck also arrived, along with Selfie and Molly.
John Greer began the meeting by playing the Internet video Macy had sent to Crime Scene LA from an Internet cafe. I watched as the madman appeared on the screen for only a few seconds as he told the world what he had planned next.
“There’s going to be a final killing tonight,” Macy said, his strange eyes glowing in the dim light. It looked like the video had been shot in a motel room with a cell phone camera. “This will be my vengeance. I will bring justice to the one who suffered.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Darby asked when the video ended.
“Who knows, who cares,” Joe said. “He’s crazy.”
“He’s decompensating,” Agent Gray said, offering her opinion. “He’s spiraling into an extreme delusional state.”
“It’s only going to get worse until he kills again,” Agent Nance agreed.
Joe rolled his eyes. “Yeah, so let’s stop that from happening.”
“Why don’t you update everyone on the events that transpired yesterday,” Greer said to Joe. “Then let’s see if we can get a handle on what Macy’s planning next.”
After summarizing last night’s events, including Macy having turned on his partner and setting up the gruesome display, the FBI profiler chimed in again with her theory.
“Macy sees himself as death personified,” Agent Gray said. “It’s not a surprise that he used the biblical reference to the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse in one of his scenarios.”
“He sees himself as the pale rider,” Nance agreed.
Agent Orland took exception to pretty boy. “I think he sees himself as something far greater than the purveyor of death. He sees himself as pure evil.”
“I don’t give a shit if he sees himself as the devil with a big dick,” Joe said. “It’s not gonna bring us any closer to stopping the lunatic.”
“Let’s move on,” Agent Greer said, in response to the growing tension in the room. He said to Joe, “Tell us about your meeting with…” he checked his paperwork, “Christine Javier.”
Joe took a few minutes, telling the group that Javier had suspicions her husband’s death wasn’t a suicide. He then went on to say that Martin Javier might have been murdered so that Dr. Moore could take his place as Macy’s psychiatrist so they could use her in their escape plan.
I then told the group what we knew about Macy’s father raping and murdering his daughter, who had apparently been conceived when he’d strayed from his marriage. I then added, “The child’s name was Corinne.” I looked at Selfie and Molly, raising my brows. “But, as far as we know, there’s no birth records for her.”
“We’ve actually just found a birth record in Texas,” Selfie said. “The child was born in Houston to a Mary Linda Hartford. Macy is listed as the father, but there’s no record of what happened to the child after her birth.”
Molly said, “We can only assume that Macy’s father took custody of her, and…” She sighed. “We know the rest. There’s no record showing the child was even enrolled in school.”
“I read the summary notes that Agent Greer gave us prior to the meeting,” Agent Oland said, looking at Joe and me. “What did Javier’s wife say about…” he checked his notes, “I think you called it the Capgras Syndrome.”
“Her husband had a theory that Macy was suffering from a delusional disorder that causes someone to believe a person has been replaced by another individual,” I said. “In our case, Macy apparently believes that the victims he’s murdering are his dead sister, Corinne. He’s been choosing his victims as replacements for the girl.”
“It might be that Macy was close to his sister as a boy,” Oland speculated. “And her death traumatized him and pushed him into a delusional world.”
“A slow decent into madness,” Agent Gray agreed, finding common ground with Oland for the first time.
“But, if Macy was close to his sister and traumatized by her death, why would he kill the victims he takes?” Agent Nance said. “It doesn’t add up.”
The room was quiet for a moment when something occurred to me. The truth about what happened had been right in front of us all along and we’d missed it.
My voice pitched higher with excitement as I gave voice to what I’d pieced together. “I don’t think it was his father who killed his sister. I believe that Quinton Macy himself was her killer, but on some level he either believes that his father was the guilty party or he’s transferred his guilt to him.”
Nance shook his head. “If that was the case, it still doesn’t explain why he would kill the girls he takes.”
“Yes it does. You forget, Macy is insane. In his delusional world, he believes that his father killed his sister. He’s also killing his victims because, in his mind, the syndrome he’s suffering from causes him to believe they are, in fact, his sister, now grown up. He’s also repeatedly burying the truth—that he is her real killer.”
“I think Darby and me might have something that ties into all this,” Buck said. He looked at his partner. “You think maybe there could be a connection?”
Darby shrugged. “I think we could be as nuts as Macy, but there’s no harm in laying it out for everyone.”
“Let’s hear what’s on your mind,” Joe said.
Buck took a moment, telling Greer and his agents about the shootout at the cemetery where the first victim was found. “Our original assumption was that Harold Gooseberry shot the two rappers, Jerry Duncan and Marvin Hanks, but, as you all know, the coroner determined they were both shot from behind. The general direction of the shots would have been from where the girl’s body was found.”
Darby took up the story. “The night before the cemetery shooting, Gooseberry’s business manager, Howard Slade was run down in his parking lot. We believe that he was, in fact, murdered as a double cross in a drug deal.”
“What does this have to do with the Macy case?” Agent Gray said. “I think we’re getting off track.”
“Patience, Joanie,” Joe said to her. He looked back at Darby and Buck. “Don’t make us wait for it much longer.”
Buck continued. “We believe Slade and his attorney had set up a drug deal between Gooseberry and the two rappers. They ended up ripping off Gooseberry for the drugs they’d promised him, but led him to believe the two rappers were behind the double cross.”
“Hence the shootout,” Darby said. “But the double cross went both ways. Jimmy Jones, Slade’s attorney, told the rappers they’d been ripped off by Gooseberry. His plan was to eliminate all his problems, first by running down Slade in the parking lot.”
“And then by having Gooseberry and the rappers take care of one another,” Buck added.
“With Joshua Brown clearing up the leftovers.”
“Until Brown realized the police were at the cemetery.”
“I still don’t understand what any of this has to do with our case,” Gray complained.
“We’ve waited long enough,” Joe said to Darby and Buck. “Give it up.”
“Jones used Joshua Brown to pay off a debt he owed for acting as his attorney on a past case,” Buck explained. “He was the attorney of record on the kidnapping of a girl in Arizona. An eyewitness said he saw Brown take the girl, but Jones raised some doubts and Brown walked.”
My adrenaline was suddenly on overload. “The girl,” I said. “What happened to her?”
Darby shrugged. “No one knows. She hasn’t been heard from since she disappeared from her school parking lot.”
“Her name,” I said. “What was the girl’s name?”
“Williams,” Buck said. “Her name is Corinne Williams.”