31

IT WAS COLD, AND the falling snow outside wasn’t helping Rachel’s efforts to stay warm. Fatigue was settling into her muscles like a storm. Second crime scene in one night. The luxury of hope seemed like a distant whisper she swore she couldn’t even hear anymore.

She studied the area with slow, calculated blinks. The remains of the body belonged to an obviously obese man. His jaw hung open. He’d been sucked dry. Like the others. Bullet shells lay among the broken tables and bar debris. She made a dozen summaries in her mind, piecing the events together in the fashion she imagined they occurred.

The Pearl’s front and rear entrances remained cracked, a constricting wind invading. This filthy place should be shut down, she thought as the tormenting chill gloved her thin frame. A few glances at the new victim, but she hadn’t located the broken cross etched under the skin. Although she knew in her gut it was there.

A death note had blown toward her from across the room. She picked it up.

I will execute judgment upon him with plague and bloodshed.

The M and one E were marked by blood. Rachel’s eyes fell. “Two letters this time? Another piece of the grand enigma.”

“What is it?” Mike asked as he entered.

She turned. “Don’t you ever go home?”

“The wife and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms as of late.”

“Is my case the culprit?”

“Your case. And about a half dozen others this month.”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “I can’t seem to make any sense of these riddles.”

“Let me see the note.”

She put the note in his hands.

“Well, these murders are happening very close together, all in the same way. There’s a definite pattern and purpose.” Mike rubbed his eyes, groggy. Still, he managed to give her a quick and efficient rundown of the notes, an impressive skill Rachel coveted. “I think it’s safe to assume there’s a pattern to these notes left behind as well. Red letters might spell something.”

“Jude said he believed that the notes were taken from Hebrew Scripture.”

“The Bible?”

She nodded.

“He should know. He’s spent more time in church than God himself when he was younger.”

“Is that a fact?” she replied, surprised.

“He’s got a friend who pastors one of them on the corner of Willow and Granby. A priest named…What the heck was that guy’s name?” His mind searched. “Eliam, that’s it. Knew it was an oddball one.”

“Well, never thought we’d need a clergyman to solve a murder.”

“We don’t. But Jude went there sometimes. He said it helped him keep his head screwed on tight. At least, before…That was old Jude, I suppose. I swear, when and if he comes back, I’m gonna rip his heart out.”

The paramedics shoved Chubb into one of the biggest body bags Rachel had ever seen. The nightclub became crowded in mere moments. Her ears were still ringing when one of her crew members finally figured out how to shut the obnoxious sound system off.

Rachel took some time to collect herself. Her composure felt like wax, melting the deeper she wandered into this case. She glanced down at her watch. It read 3:07. Walking outside to get some fresh air, a voice came out of the shadows.

“Evening, Miss Sutherland,” Chase Vallace said. “Or should I say, good morning?”

“Don’t say anything at all. Just leave me in peace.”

“Peace. Almost a believable request. Sounds to me like you’re nursing a bruised ego.”

“Keep it up and it’ll be your bruised face.”

His teeth flashed. “As long as you’re the nurse, it’s a good night.” With his overly large camera, he snapped several photographs of the nightclub.

“You’re not authorized to be here,” Rachel insisted.

“I saw one of the nosy writers from The Journal peeling out of here minutes ago. You know, it baffles me. It really does. Everyone hates the smell of garbage, but nobody wants to take out the trash. Someone’s gotta do it.”

“A charming guy like you doesn’t have anything better to do at three in the morning?”

“I can think of a few things.”

“Does your depravity know no bounds?” she snarled.

“I’m a man. I got needs. Speaking of needs, Detective, do you have anything you want to share with the good people of this city? I questioned a few of the others already, but I’d like to get a quote from Jude’s better half.” Chase raised his recorder.

“Get that out of my face, before I break it. And Jude and I aren’t an item. Don’t let me find out that your filthy mind is printing lies about us.”

“Jumpy-jumpy. Something’s got you worn thin. What could it be?”

“Go home.”

“But I want to be here, with you. With all of this magic.” He seemed to acquire a sadistic glow the more he studied the scene. He sucked in a deep breath. “You smell that? Beautiful. In some bizarre way, it smells fresh. There’s something so freeing about death.”

Rachel started to feel claustrophobic.

Chase stole a picture of Rachel as she glanced down the alley. “All these poor low-lives keep me employed.”

“Have a little respect for the dead.”

“Respect?” Chase took a step back. “He was a criminal. He was less than human. Soulless. Trust me.”

“Takes a soulless man to spot another.”

“You know, I’m not as bad as some paint me to be,” he said, taking another photo.

“Right. If you’re lucky, you might just get promoted to saint.”

“Patron saint of the truth. They say it’ll set you free, baby.”

“I’m shocked you even know what that word means. Look, just get lost. That kingpin paid for his crimes tonight with his life.”

“Scream mercy all you want. If it were up to me he woulda been tossed in solitary to scratch at the walls. Guess Morgan Cross had other intentions.”

“What did you say? Where did you get that name?”

Chase glanced at the images he’d taken. “Public knowledge, Detective.”

“No, it isn’t. You think Cross is responsible for these murders?”

“My theories aren’t conclusive, but the gun’s in his hand from where I’m standing. Rumor has it, this SOB may be working with the infamous ghost killer Jude never brought down. Two sadistic creeps. One case. I already got chills.” Chase shoved a stick of gum into his mouth and began to chew it methodically. “What, no comment? Really? You are a cold fish.”

Rachel rolled her eyes.

He squinted slyly. But she wasn’t about to show him that he’d struck a nerve or that he was on the right track. The readers of his column sure didn’t get all the facts, so to lead them on this train of thought was nothing short of dangerous.

“Detective Sutherland, I’m asking for a bone here. Give me anything. I got deadlines. I got a boss barking up my butt with threats. He’s just looking for an excuse to let me go. If I don’t have something sensational to run…Well, I suppose I could come up with something.” He clicked his tongue and played with the gum in his mouth.

“A city kingpin was sucked dry. But you already knew that,” Rachel said, taking in a view of the city. “Isn’t his death sensational enough?”

“Everybody dies. But how’s this story gonna end? I know you’ve thought about it, especially since your partner left you behind.”

Rachel began walking away.

“You can’t just walk away from a crime scene…Can you?”

She denied him a response. This wasn’t the time for antics or futile battles. Where was Jude? She wanted him to come back. Miserable, cynical, angry as he was. There was a menace loose, and with each new corpse, he was making fools out of every crew at the department. He was making a fool out of her.