The Second Coming (15 page)

B
Y THE TIME
Mike got to work, the Xanax was kicking in and he was feeling comfortable in his skin again. Thank God for small favors. After he and Big Pete spent the better part of the morning getting ripped by Captain Volger, they decide it would be best to split up and canvas as many bars and churches as they could.

Captain Volger confirmed that the second victim was indeed a bartender at a hole-in-the-wall bar down the street from the church where her body was discovered. The killer was limiting his potential for being caught, but why was he taking the risk of moving his victims? And why bartenders and why churches? There had to be a connection.

Big Pete and Mike agreed to pay particular attention and make note of any bar and church that were in close proximity to each other. They soon realized there were churches and bars in throwing distance from each other all over Oakland. It made sense; one would go to the bar to spend what little money they had to get fucked up and forget about how shitty their life was. They would wake up the next day feeling guilty and would go to church to ask for forgiveness and clear their conscious. It was as if the churches and bars were in business together.

Big Pete wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he thought maybe something would trigger a hunch. At this point in the investigation, a hunch might be the only thing left to go on.

Mike was going to spend the day driving to hole-in-the-wall bars and talking with whoever was on staff. Hopefully someone had seen or heard something that could be of use or at least Mike could warn everyone, especially female blonde bartenders, to be cautious and aware of their surroundings.

Both avenues were long shots, but after the Captain jumped down their throats and strongly suggested that they get off of their asses and make something happen, they felt they needed to do something and this was the best thing they could come up with. Now that the murders were headline news and all over the radio talk show circuit, they knew the heat would be turned up. The Sterling Killer was the biggest thing since the Zodiac Killer and it was about to get worse.

In a roughly nine hour period, Mike visited 20 different bars. At each of the bars he spoke with the bartender, the manager or the owner, depending on who was on duty, and in a few cases he spoke with all three of them. No one reported seeing anything that could be considered a solid lead, but some of the people read the articles in the morning papers and had their own theories about the killer, none of which were plausible. Mike thanked everyone for their time and left his card, asking them to call him if they saw or heard anything out of the ordinary.

Much to Mike’s relief, there were no female blonde bartenders, but he asked everyone if they knew of any in the area. Two male bartenders and one female bartender mentioned one that worked at Buschini’s Ristorante, an upscale restaurant. The looks of splendor and the reverent tone that each bartender used when they spoke of her made Mike more than just a little intrigued to meet her. He decided that Buschini’s would be the last stop of his day and the first drink of his night.

It was a little past seven thirty when he walked in through the glass doors, past the vacated hostess podium and into the bustling bar and lounge area. Mike scanned the crowd and assessed the situation. It was a middle-aged, high-end crowd dressed in suits or designer clothing. This was definitely not the Sterling Killer’s target location. It was too nice and too busy. It was warm and the sweet smell of garlic and spices invited him toward the shelves of bottles that lined the wall. Over by the far corner of the bar he spotted a sliver of space that would allow him to scrutinize everyone that came through the front door. It was the perfect lookout position. He slowly made his way through the crowd and slipped into the crevice, leaning sideways on the bar. He examined the faces for anyone suspicious. He didn’t notice anyone that appeared to be a threat; just a bunch of self-consumed assholes. A well groomed man with dark hair and glasses bumped into Mike and when Mike glanced at him with a scowl on his face, the man apologized
with a look of concern and moved away before Mike could tell him “no problem”. When Mike turned around the blonde bartender was standing there ready to take his order. They were right; she was drop dead gorgeous. Mike noticed her eyes light up when she saw his rugged face.

“Would you like something to drink?” She asked with a sweet tone that gave Mike the shivers as she set a cocktail napkin in front of him.

“Yes please,” Mike responded. “Can I have a Kettle One on the rocks with a couple of onions please?”

“Sure,” the bartender responded. “Would you like to see a menu?”

I’d like to see you naked.
“No thank you.”

Mike watched her tight ass in her black pants as she walked over and began making his drink. She was a wholesome little nugget with bright blue eyes and a little ski jump nose. She reminded him of a country girl he remembered seeing in a Playboy magazine when he was a teenager. What he wouldn’t give to have a roll in the hay with her.

He examined her with discerning eyes as she brought his cocktail over and set it in front of him. She noticed and blushed.

“Can I get you anything else?” She asked with a seductive smile of flawless teeth.

You can get me anything you want.
“What’s your name?” Mike asked in a not so creepy way.

She peered at Mike questioningly.

“I’m sorry,” Mike said as he offered her his hand. “My name is Mike McCormick.”

She wiped her manicured hand on her apron and then shook his hand. “Nice to meet you Mike. My name is Denise.”

“Nice to meet you as well,” Mike said as he raised his glass. “My doctor says I should have one of these every half hour so I would appreciate it if you would administer them to me accordingly.”

“You want me to be your nurse?” She asked with a playful twinkle in her eyes.

Mike choked on his drink and as she sauntered away she glanced over her shoulder at him with a devilish grin. He was infatuated with her.

Mike sat at the bar for the next couple of hours drinking vodka’s and making flirtatious advances. The more he drank, the more courageous his comments became until they bordered on inappropriate. At one point
Denise teasingly threw an olive at him, but she didn’t seem to mind. She would simply rebuttal with her own clever innuendos and seductive grin. She could give as good as she could get.

Around nine thirty, when the crowd was thinning out, Denise placed a cosmopolitan on the bar next’s to Mike’s drink and he watched with longing eyes as she walked around the bar and sat next to him. They sat at the bar making friendly small talk and getting acquainted for about an hour. Mike noticed that she wasn’t wearing a ring and that there was no tan line on her wedding finger. How was it possible that someone as beautiful and as smart as her was not married? She had to be almost thirty years old. Why hadn’t someone snatched her up? There had to be something wrong with her that she was hiding. Maybe she was divorced or maybe she was a lesbian? Mike could only imagine how hot her girlfriend would be. Maybe she was one of those fatal attraction stalkers? Denise noticed the look of concern on Mike’s face.

“There is something you should know about me,” she said timidly.

Mike sat up in his chair and tried to play it cool. “As long as you’re not married I don’t think there is anything you can tell me that will change my mind about you.”

Denise smiled nervously. “That’s sweet,” she replied and then took a deep breath and gazed into Mike’s eyes. “I used to be married.”

Mike knew there had to be a secret. “Are you divorced?”

Denise shook her head with tears in her eyes. “I’m a widow,” she replied with a crack in her flowery voice. Mike wanted to kick himself.

“I’m so sorry,” he said as he handed her a napkin to wipe her tears. Denise dabbed the mascara under her eyes. Maybe she was a black widow? He wasn’t sure that he could say ‘no’ to her even if she was. She might be worth dying for and even though he knew it was insensitive, he had to pry. “How did he die?”

“He was a soldier fighting in Afghanistan when his vehicle hit an IED.”

Mike slumped over the bar as he nodded his head. He had seen it too many times. “I served in Afghanistan,” he said with a defeated tone. “He probably didn’t know what hit him.”

Denise shook her head. “That’s the worst part. He died in his best friends arms and his last thoughts were of me and our daughter.”

And then it came back to Mike in a flash; Axe’s friend. “Was your husband Tom Keane by chance?” He asked as he stared at his drink reflectively, hoping that he was wrong, not that it would have made any difference.

Denise turned towards Mike with wide eyes and her mouth open. “Did you know Tom?” She asked excitedly.

Mike shook his head as he glared at her with sympathetic eyes. “Axe told me.”

“How do you know Eric?”

“I work at the OPD in homicide. I had drinks with him the other night. He told me what happened to Tom and about you and April Rose.”

Denise just stared at Mike with tears welling in her eyes. “Eric is such a great guy. I don’t know what we would do without him.”

“He feels the same about you and April Rose,” Mike hesitated with a twinge of guilt. “Listen, if you and Axe have something going, just tell me and I will stand down.”

Denise put her hand on Mike’s arm. “It’s not like that. Don’t get me wrong. I’d be lucky to have a man like him, but he is like a brother to me.” She took a sip of her Cosmo and then locked eyes with Mike. “I haven’t felt the way I do with you since Tom died. I didn’t think I would ever feel like this again.”

Mike smiled, but his face was not reassuring. Denise pulled her hand from his arm.

“What is it?” She asked alarmed. “Did you come here to tell me something about Eric? Is he alright?”

Mike turned and held her hand tenderly. “Axe is fine,” he assured her. “But I do have an ulterior motive for being here tonight.”

“What are you talking about?” She pulled her hand away.

“Have you heard of the Sterling Killer?”

“I don’t think so. Should I have?”

“He’s murdered two women.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Both of the victims were blonde bartenders.”

“Holy shit,” she said under her breath. “Do you think I’m in danger?”

“Probably not. The first two victims worked at hole-in-the-wall bars where they were vulnerable to an attack. There are too many people here and there is too much of a risk of being caught.”

There was a look of distress on her face. “What should I do? I can’t stop working.”

“You need to be cautious and aware of your surroundings,” Mike told her with intense eyes. “Make sure you are never alone. Park your car near the entrance and have someone escort you to it after work.”

“Do you have any idea who it is?”

“We think he’s a Caucasian in his thirties, but that’s all we know.”

“What does he do to his victims?” Denise asked sounding a little desperate.

“Don’t worry about that. He is not going to come after you. I promise.”

chapter
28

T
HE
S
TERLING
K
ILLER
couldn’t believe his luck. Detective McCormick was having drinks with his next victim! He couldn’t have planned it better; unless he followed Detective McCormick around and waited for him to lead him to his next victim; why didn’t he think of that sooner? It was a risky proposition, but one worth considering, except that would mean letting him go, and the prospect of killing two birds with one stone was too enticing to pass up.

The Sterling Killer waited in the shadows of a parking lot across the street from Buschini’s spying on Mike and Denise through the plate glass window. He watched with anticipation as Mike helped Denise with her jacket. He pulled his hood over his head and readied himself for the attack.

It was around eleven thirty when Mike and Denise finished their drinks. Mike walked her to the door where Denise grabbed her light blue North Face jacket from the coat rack. Mike held it for her as she slid her arms in. Outside it was quiet and dim as they crossed the street in a quick pace and made their way to her car. Mike was walking behind her with his hands jammed in his jean pockets trying to figure out something clever to say and trying to decide if he was going to make a move for a kiss. He wanted the night to end on a good note and he wanted to be respectful, but all he could think about was her soft, full lips and that smile. He had to kiss her. He wouldn’t forgive himself if he didn’t take advantage of the opportunity. Was it going to be a friendly kiss on the cheek or a polite one on the lips? Mike wanted nothing more than to feel her moist lips on his. He was hoping it would start as a friendly kiss and turn into something more passionate.

When they got to the side of her car, Denise turned and looked up at Mike with her blue eyes and full, warm smile. “This is the time of night that
I reluctantly say goodnight,” she said in a soft, innocent tone as they stood inches from each other, the sexual energy drawing them closer together.