Chapter 4

4

Seth

“Here’s the artist rending of the man who attacked Michelle Stringer.” Booker placed the drawing on my desk as I ate my breakfast; a bowl of Honey-Nut Cheerios. “Hmm, looks tasty, kid,” he said dryly.

“It’s not as if I have all the time in the world to make a hot breakfast. I have to get to school and do my job, unlike some of us.” I frowned down at the soggy O’s. Man, I’ll be glad when this assignment’s over.

“Someday you’ll be in charge of your own team, and you can call the shots.” He set a mug down next to my bowl. “To show you my heart's in the right place, I made you some of my famous hot chocolate.”

I inhaled the sweet chocolaty steam escaping from the cup. “Formula number seven?”

“Would I bring you anything less?” He sat down and propped his black hard-soled shoes on the corner of my desk, beaming as I savored the warm liquid.

“Are you ready to share the secret ingredient with me?” I asked between sips.

“Nope.” His grin broadened. “So does the drawing look like the guy from the park last night?” he asked, pointing to the picture.

I studied the man’s face. “It’s hard to tell. It was pretty dark, and he was alone. Didn’t Ms. Stringer state there were two of them?”

“Yes. But that doesn’t mean they can’t do a little business alone.” He had a point. The drug community didn’t seem to have a problem stabbing each other in the back.

“You watched this guy walking throughout park, but didn’t witness any drug deals going down?”

“None." I laughed. "However, most of the people in the park last night weren’t exactly looking to score. Well, not drugs anyway. There was a whole lot of making out going on.

“Once he spotted Maggie, his demeanor changed. He stayed hidden in the trees, as if he was tracking a defenseless animal, and he kept licking his lips.” Repulsed, I shoved my breakfast away.

“I worked my way over toward him just as he got a phone call. He was angry and kept telling whoever it was, no, and that he was in charge, all the while watching Maggie.”

I got up and walked over to the window, resting my arm on the sill. “He said there was this hot girl who was all alone and that he was a man with needs.” My jaw tightened. “He kept smiling and scratching himself.”

Booker walked over and patted my shoulders. “She’s okay, Seth. You saw to that.” I nodded and took a deep breath to calm my gut.

“I should have arrested him.”

“On what charges? Gawking at a cute girl?” Booker laughed. “I would have had to charge you too. I’m sure you were doing some pretty heavy gawking yourself at Ms. Brown.”

“I can guarantee you my thoughts weren’t lascivious. All I wanted was to talk to her. He, on the other hand...”

 “I have no doubt your thoughts were pure, Son of a Preacher Man,” Booker said, walking back over to my desk. My dad served in the Air force as a Chaplin, among other things, and Booker was forever singing the old Dusty Springfield song to me as we were growing up. “This guy was probably some loser guy hoping to score. No need getting uptight over nothing.”

I knew Booker was trying to downplay the incident. Until we had any evidence proving otherwise, he saw no need for me to tie myself up in knots. Vintage Booker. Out to save the world.

“Which reminds me.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “It’s not working.”

“What’s not working?”

“The scheme you had to, how did you put it? Win the ladies heart. Cheesy, Booker. Even for you.”

“So what’s not working? You must be doing it wrong,” he said playfully.

“You said to make her laugh, make her the nervous one. Well, she doesn’t ever laugh at my jokes. They seem to put her on edge. Although, I do believe she’s nervous. She has this cute habit of twisting her hair around her fin—” I looked over at Booker. His chest was bouncing with laughter. I smiled. “I did kiss her last night,” I admitted. “Twice, actually.”

“See. I hate to say I told you so,” he glowed proudly.

 “But she got mad after I did.”

“You must be a pretty rotten kisser. Did she kiss you back, or was she cringing the whole time?”

“I kiss just fine, thank you very much. And yes, she kissed me back. Actually, she kissed me first,” I bragged. “But I don’t think she’s interested in having a boyfriend. Maybe I should try being her friend.”

“No, no, no. You’re making real progress, kid. You need to—”

A knock on my office door brought Booker’s love advice to a premature end, thankfully. In walked a lanky blond woman in a MET uniform with a sheet of paper in her right hand.

“Hey, Connie. What’s up?”

 “Captain, you said you wanted to be notified if another stabbing occurred with the same MO as Michelle Stringer.” Booker nodded slowly. “A 24 year-old female identified as Tammy Byrne was found shortly after two a.m. this morning behind some empty buildings near Applegate Park. She had several knife wounds almost identical to those of Ms. Stringer. She didn’t survive, Captain.”

“Was she raped?”

“It’s hard to tell, the body’s a mess, but the forensic team doesn’t believe so. Sir, the woman who discovered the body is a reporter for The Democrat and Chronicle. She and a staff photographer were there doing an exposé on the growing drug scene at Applegate park. It’s already hit the morning papers.”

She handed the report over to Booker along with a small plastic bag. “This was found under the body. We couldn’t get any fingerprints off it. We’re not even sure it’s part of the crime scene, but I thought you might want to see it.”

“Thanks, Connie.” Booker closed the door as he read over the paper.

“What’s in the bag?”

Booker twisted the baggy with his fingers, quickly pulling the small notebook from his left breast pocket. “I believe the guy who attacked Michelle Stringer had a silver disk in his right ear lobe,” he said, thumbing through his notes.

“A silver disk?” I took the evidence bag from Booker. “The guy in the park last night wore a silver disk.” I shoved it back into Booker’s hands and stumbled over to my pleather chair, all but falling into the cold seat. Dropping my elbows on the desk, I buried my face in my hands.

“Book! If I hadn’t …”

“I know, kid, I know. Look, you had better get to the school. I’ll talk with the team and head over to the crime scene, see if I can find anything.”

“I’m going with you.” I said, burning my throat as I downed the last of my hot chocolate.

“Seth, you’ll be late for sc–”

“I’m not going! This murder is part of the assignment too!”

“Maybe. This may be some random killer. We don’t know for sure if he’s part of the drug investigation.”

“So why are you following up on it? Why aren’t you letting the local cops handle this?” I had him there, and he knew it.

“Okay, fine,” he said, slipping the disk into his pocket. “Once this murder hits the school, there’s going to be lots of talk. I want you and the team all ears for the rest of the day.”

“If we finish this before school ends, I’ll go. The other three agents can keep their ears open.”

“Seth, don’t you think Maggie is going to need someone to lean on when she hears about this?”

I hadn’t thought about how she was going to react. She was probably going to take it hard. “Let’s get going so I can make it back in time for class.” I jumped up, snagged my jacket from the top of the filing cabinet, and rushed for the door.

“I suppose when we’re done, I’ll have to write a note for the principal explaining why little Sethy was late for school today,” Booker said, to which I gave him an elbow to the ribs.

“Oof!” He laughed, rubbing the spot,

I was the first one out of the car and was taken aback by the size of the crime scene. Tammy Byrne must have put up a good fight. Booker checked in with the lead detective on the case.

“Detective Michaels,” he said, greeting him with a handshake. My palms were sweaty so I nodded to him instead. “I read your preliminary report. Have you learned anything new?”

“Only that the victim wasn’t raped,” Michaels said, showing Booker the preliminary autopsy. “Her face wasn’t touched, but her body was a mess. They weren’t random cuttings either, Captain. This guy knows his way around anatomy.”

“Like a doctor, maybe?” I asked, though I couldn’t imagine someone who’d spent years in medical school throwing it all away to be a murderer.

“Not necessarily. My old man was a farmer, and we butchered our own cows, chickens too, for that matter. These cuttings were precise, but crude, not skillful like a surgeon’s. Maybe the perpetrator’s a farmer, or a butcher.”

“Good call. I’ll run a check and see if there are any local farmers or butchers with a violent record,” Booker said. “Let me know if any new leads turn up. We’re going to look around.”

We passed under the yellow police tape and began searching the area, finding nothing new. I couldn’t believe the amount of blood there was everywhere. I prayed the slime ball had cut the poor victim up postmortem, otherwise, Ms. Byrne suffered tremendously.

I tried to keep Maggie out of my thoughts, but it was tough. It could very easily have been her blood we were sifting through. She could have been the one–

“Hey, sit down before you pass out.” Booker took my arm, steering me over to a couple of dented trashcans.

“I know you want to be here, Seth, but I think you should head over to the school. I don’t need you fainting onto potential evidence.” I nodded weakly.

Wiping my damp hands off onto my jeans, Booker arranged for a patrol car to take me back to the station for my car. He was right. I was useless here. I needed to be at the school. I needed to see Maggie.