The Confessor, page 4
“How far did you get?” she asked, glancing at the clock on the microwave. She was mildly surprised to see that it was nearly ten. Jenica rarely slept past seven, even on her days off.
Cordy went to the oven and pulled out a foil-covered plate. She motioned for Jenica to have a seat and removed the covering, before setting the plate in front of her.
“I’ve separated the cases by type of crime the victim was accused of,” Cordy replied, taking the seat next to Jenica, “and started at the beginning. There are twelve victims, including the new one. Going through all the reports, witness statements, and such is taking longer than I expected. I’m up to number nine, now.”
Jenica gleefully scooped shredded potatoes into her mouth and hummed with delight. “What did number nine do?” she asked, mixing the potatoes with her scrambled eggs and diced ham. Jenica loved that, no matter what case she was working on or how tired she was, Cordy always made her breakfast on the weekends.
“Beat an elderly man to death over less than ten dollars,” Cordy said, watching as Jenica combined her breakfast into a jumbled mess on the plate, “he was found in the parking lot of a bank. The killer stuffed nine dollars and eighteen cents, the amount the vic took off the old man, down his throat. The murder weapon, a claw hammer, was sticking out of his mouth.”
Jenica contemplated the perplexed look that settled over Cordy’s handsome, freckled face. Something was on the detective’s mind, and Jenica knew if she didn’t ask, the woman would keep it to herself.
“Why so puzzled, darling?” she asked, reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from Cordy’s clear, hazel eyes.
“There are so many similarities between the victims in each case. The cause of death is always the same, throat slit with some memento of the crime shoved down the windpipe, but some of the bodies also had stuff shoved in other orifices. I don’t understand why, especially considering some of the items were small enough to fit down the throat.”
Jenica shrugged. “Maybe your killer is getting his jollies? Further humiliate the victim by violating their whole body?”
“Maybe,” Cordy conceded, “We don’t know anything about the killer, so who knows what his motives are? I’m more concerned with how he is selecting his targets.”
“Four of the nine I’ve gotten to, were never even brought to trial. In one case, charges weren’t even brought yet. How does The Confessor know they committed the crimes? What makes him so sure he has the right person?”
Jenica pondered her wife’s thought process, looking at it from an uninvolved perspective. There could be any number of explanations as to why the killer was so certain of the victim’s culpability. Jenica wasn’t a criminal attorney, and didn’t like to pretend she knew the ins and outs of criminal law, but her blood ran cold with the possibilities that came to mind.
If the crimes of the victims were not publicized by the media, that really only left one logical avenue of investigation. The killer had to be a member of the law enforcement community. Someone who would be privy to details that the average person wouldn’t know. Someone who wouldn’t stand out if they asked questions.
“Sweetheart,” she asked softly, “what are you thinking?”
Cordy scratched her chin and let out a heavy breath. “Hopefully I’m wrong, but it sure seems like The Confessor might be one of us.”
***
“Jenica dressed you again, didn’t she?” Gibson asked, by way of greeting on Monday morning.
Cordy frowned and looked down at her attire. She’d chosen a simple, light blue, button-down blouse, a pair of pressed black slacks, and low-heeled black boots.
“Why do you say that?” she asked, genuinely confused by the smirk on her partner’s face.
“Those clothes look clean,” Gibson jibed, enjoying the chance to taunt her.
Cordy’s eyes narrowed, and she threw her pen at the man. “For your information,” she huffed, “I am perfectly capable of dressing myself like a civilized member of society.”
Gibson snorted. For years, Gibson had accepted that his partner possessed zero fashion sense. He could use one hand to count the number of times Cordelia Weston had put together a cohesive outfit, by herself. They’d been best friends since entering the academy, at eighteen. He couldn’t even count how many times he had helped the woman pick out her clothes.
Even Cordy’s wedding dress had been chosen by someone else. Anyone who knew Cordy, knew that she could never have picked such a glamourous black gown, without help. Hell, Cordy had been asking Gibson for help in picking out clothing items for Jenica, ever since the couple started dating.
“I know you can,” Gibson shot back, “but since we aren’t in court today, and it’s not Jenica’s birthday, you’ll have to forgive my surprise.”
Cordy finally smiled at her friend. She knew he had her number, and was not afraid to admit her own faults.
“Jenica did buy the outfit for me,” she said as she kicked her feet onto her desk and crossed her ankles, “for our anniversary last year. But, I’m the one who matched the pieces together this morning.”
“Weston, Price, my office.”
Gibson and Cordy’s morning banter was cut short when Rick breezed by their desks with the command.
“Good morning, to you, too, Cap,” Cordy said, closing the door behind her.
Rick’s brow arched, and he shook his head. “You look nice today,” he said, his eyes quickly roaming over her attire, “Compliments of the missus, I assume.”
Cordy scowled at her superior. “You know what they say about assumptions,” she deadpanned, “What the hell is this? Pick on Cordy day?”
Rick and Gibson shared a laugh at the woman’s irritation. Cordy crossed her arms over her chest and grumbled good-naturedly at the pair.
“Alright,” Rick said, his expression hardening, “Did you read the files I gave you?”
Cordy nodded. She’d spent the last two weeks combing over the cases, the evidence lists, and crime scene photos. To Jenica’s dismay, Cordy had even drafted a request for the available court transcripts, for those victims who’d gone to court for the crimes that led to their murders.
Cordy knew her wife was upset with her, but she took comfort in knowing that the woman rarely stayed mad for long.
“I put in a transcript request this morning. I’ll go over those, and see if there is something in them that might give us a lead.”
Rick nodded. A knock on the door caught his attention, and he motioned for the visitor to enter. “Baxter, glad you could join us,” Rick greeted, extending his hand to the newcomer.
“Always a pleasure, Rick,” the man replied with a genuine smile.
Rick turned to his detectives and made the introductions.
“Cordelia Weston, Gibson Price, meet Lieutenant Steve Baxter. Steve is Marilynn PD’s most highly decorated officer.”
The detectives took turns accepting Steve’s hand. They both knew who he was, but neither had formally met the man. Gibson and Cordy, along with most of their fellow officers at the Falls City Police Department, had been part of an extensive search and rescue operation, in conjunction with the Marilynn PD.
A few years earlier, the entire county had come together to search for Steve Baxter’s daughter, who had been kidnapped down the street from her wife’s place of business. The young woman was eventually located, alive, several hours from Marilynn.
“How’s your daughter doing?” Gibson asked.
Steve beamed. “She and her wife are loving life right now. They’re happily embracing all the joys of motherhood.”
Cordy smiled fondly. She remembered seeing the front-page article, announcing the birth of the Parker twins. She and Jenica had seriously discussed having children, after seeing the happy faces of the young mothers holding their new babies.
“So,” Steve said, “My Captain said you wanted to speak to me about a case my team caught last night?”
Rick nodded, his professional demeanor back in place. “Vasquez called me at home, and told me about it. She said your vic has a lot in common with one we caught last week.”
Lita Vasquez was the head Medical Examiner for the county, not just for Falls City.
“Victim’s name is Cheryl Kessler. Her body was found around ten last night, propped on a bench in Turner Park. She was nude, except for a pair of panties and a ski cap. There were cuts on her body, mostly centered on her chest, and her breasts were sliced open, from one side to the other. There was also duct tape across her throat. I’m still waiting for the full report from Vasquez.” Steve leaned against the corner of Rick’s desk.
“There’s most likely something stuffed beneath the tape,” Cordy offered, quickly scribbling Steve’s description in her notepad, “I’m sure you’ll also find that she was involved in some kind of court case.”
“Price, Weston, I want you two to put your heads together with Steve’s detectives. If The Confessor is going to spread his victims throughout the county, we need everyone on the same page. I’ll put a call in to Independence and Monmouth, and see if their Captains are willing to join the effort.” Rick grabbed a pen and scribbled himself a note.
Gibson and Cordy stood, recognizing the dismissal. “How about a bite to eat?” Gibson offered as they exited the office, “I missed breakfast.”
Cordy shrugged. Jenica was already gone by the time Cordy woke up, so she hadn’t bothered eating. She hated to have a meal alone. “Sounds good. I’ll let Baxter know where to send his detectives.”
***
“You wanted to see me?” Jenica asked as she stepped into her boss’ office.
Alex Walker smiled and beckoned the woman in. “Have a seat, Jenica. Dr. Walker will be right here. How’s the shift going?”
Jenica took a seat in one of the yellow visitor chairs and folded her hands in her lap. She wasn’t nervous about sitting in the boss’ office, she’d done so many times, but she was a bit concerned by the infant wailing in Alex’s arms.
“Everything’s going smoothly, no major incidents, yet, but it’s still early,” she replied with a smile. “Is that your granddaughter?”
Alex beamed as she cuddled the baby to her chest and patted her back gently. “She is. This is Callie. My wife has Callie’s twin brother, Hank, in her office. Little man needed to be changed.”
Jenica smiled and made cooing noises at the inconsolable little girl. Callie hiccupped and turned shy eyes on her. “She’s adorable,” Jenica complimented, “is she alright?”
Alex nodded and shifted the baby, setting her on the top of the desk to look at Jenica. “Her mommies wanted to have lunch by themselves today, and Callie is having some separation anxiety. Usually, Grandma-cuddles work, but not today. This is the first time she’s stopped crying since they left,” she added, glancing up at the clock.
Jenica smiled and leaned forward, using a manicured fingernail to tickle the bottom of Callie’s socked foot. The baby smiled and kicked, much to Jenica’s delight.
“May I hold her?” she asked, resisting the urge to scoop the child up.
Alex shrugged and stood to hand Callie over. “I can’t promise she won’t start screaming,” she warned as Jenica cuddled the pretty baby to her bosom.
“Well, hello there, Princess Callie,” Jenica said, her voice light and melodious. Callie stared up into Jenica’s brown eyes and smiled widely. Jenica reclaimed her seat and shifted the baby to sit on her crossed knee.
Callie reached out her tiny hands and placed them on Jenica’s cheeks, before leaning forward and placing a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss on the woman’s chin.
“Oh, thank you, sweetheart,” Jenica cooed with a smile, “Princess smooches are the best.”
Alex sat back in her chair and watched her granddaughter interact with her favorite nurse. Jenica had started at Serenity Home straight out of nursing school. She proved herself quickly, and raced her way up the ranks to secure the Head Nurse position. Of all the nurses she’d employed over the years, Jenica Weston was the one Alex trusted implicitly.
Jenica was dedicated, hard-working, and compassionate on every level. It didn’t matter what state a patient was in, Jenica had a way about her that put even the most belligerent dementia patient at ease. Alex was certain that the woman’s distinctive accent was part of what helped soothe the patients.
Alex and Kelly both adored the woman’s voice, and Dej always stopped what she was doing to listen whenever Jenica was speaking. Many times, Alex had heard her daughter muttering about how sexy Jenica’s lilt was.
“Okay, Grandma, Hanks’s all cleaned up,” Kelly announced, bouncing a large, giggling blond boy on her hip.
Jenica turned to see the other baby, and her eyes widened. “That’s Hank?” she asked, astounded at the size difference between the boy and his sister. “He’s so much bigger than this little Princess.”
Kelly laughed as she set the boy on the floor beside Alex’s desk. Hank quickly bolted for a stuffed firetruck and stuffed the front bumper into his drooling mouth. Jenica chuckled at the sight and looked to Alex before settling Callie beside her brother.
“Hank’s definitely a bruiser,” Kelly supplied, perching on the edge of Alex’s desk with her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes on the twins.
“Callie seems to be taking after her mommy,” Alex said as she pulled a folder from her desk, “Dej has always been petite, and we are thinking that Callie is going to be the same way.”
Jenica smiled as the two babies babbled to each other. When Callie reached for Hank’s firetruck, the little boy pushed it toward her and leaned onto his hands and knees. In a flash, he was at Jenica’s feet, smiling up at her from beside her stylish black heels.
“So, what did you want to see me about?” she asked as she bent forward and lifted the boy onto her lap. Hank squealed with delight and lunged forward to tangle his fingers in her mass of black curls.
Jenica winced as the boy tugged, but said nothing as she carefully untangled his hands. Kelly smiled appreciatively at Jenica’s patience, and wondered why the woman didn’t have children of her own. She’s a natural mother.
“There’s a nursing conference coming up in Los Angeles, and I’d like all of the floor Heads to attend,” Alex explained, handing a pamphlet across the desk, “Dr. Walker will be attending as well. My sister, Angie, just returned from the same conference in Salt Lake, and suggested that we send our best nurses.”
Jenica held tightly to Hank, who seemed momentarily mesmerized by the pink diamonds dangling from her ears, and skimmed over the information on the pamphlet.
“Um,” Jenica said hesitantly, “How long is the conference? I mean, how long will we be away?”
Alex didn’t miss the concern in the nurse’s voice, and wondered about the cause. “A week,” she replied, “You’ll leave on the last Sunday evening in June, and return the following Saturday morning. The conference is all-inclusive, paid for wholly by Serenity Home as a business trip.”
Alex watched closely as emotions swirled in Jenica’s dark eyes. She glanced at Kelly, who seemed to have noticed the woman’s silent turmoil as well. After a brief exchange of glances and tips of the head, Kelly smiled softly and moved to relieve Jenica of Hank.
“You’ve never been away from Detective Weston for that long, have you?” she asked kindly.
Jenica met the doctor’s gentle eyes and shook her head. “Never for more than a day or two.”
Alex and Kelly exchanged another look, before nodding knowingly at Jenica. “Kelly and I have been married for seventeen years,” Alex said, taking her wife’s hand when Kelly reclaimed the edge of the desk, “and I still can’t handle being away from her for even a single night. I don’t know how I’m going to get through that week.”
“Words can’t describe how hard it is to be away from your wife,” Kelly took up, “but you have to look at the positive, instead of dwelling on the negative. Yes, you will be gone for almost a week but, when you do get home, you’re going to feel so relieved that you will forget all about being separated.”
“Plus,” Alex added with a mischievous grin, “Your wife will be so happy when you get home, she’ll foist the kids off on her sister so the two of you can spend the weekend all alone.”
Kelly and Jenica laughed loudly, startling the twins. For a moment, both babies looked like they might cry, but joined in the laughter instead. Jenica stood and accepted the packet Alex offered her.
“We don’t have any kids, but I think you’re right on the rest of that,” she said, “My wife is always looking for a reason to keep me tied up for the weekend.”
As Jenica left the office, Alex turned an arched brow on Kelly. “Do you think she meant that literally?”
Kelly frowned and bent to lift Callie, who was rubbing forcefully at her sleepy eyes, “What do you mean?”
Alex stood and lifted Hank from the floor, nestling him into the stroller beside his already sleeping sister. “The tied-up thing. She doesn’t seem like the kinky type to me.”
Kelly laughed and leaned up to kiss Alex soundly. “Her wife is a cop, honey, remember? Besides, I’ve had many more conversations with Jenica than you have, and I’m fairly certain she and the detective have put the handcuffs to good use, at least a few times.”
Alex wrapped her arms around Kelly’s waist and pulled her close. “Maybe I’ll ask Steve for his backup pair,” she whispered, “so I can keep you tied up for the weekend, too.”
***
“This is one sick bastard,” Detective Amelia Arroyo said.
“I don’t know,” Detective Khaleesi said, popping a fry into his mouth, “seems kind of poetic to me.”
Three sets of eyebrows raised, and Khaleesi shrugged his shoulders. “I’m just saying, this Confessor guy seems to be targeting people who got away with something. None of the victims were innocent people. And, the perp is making sure we know exactly why the scumbags were killed.”
