Maniacal: A Detective Jade Monroe Crime Thriller Book 1 (8 page)

Detective Lindstrom spoke up. “I guess we should clear the area and let the team do what they do best. Let’s head back to the precinct and figure out how to go forward if the blood evidence does indeed belong to Morris King.”

We followed Lieutenant Colgate and Detective Lindstrom back to the police station and gathered in the lieutenant’s office. With the door closed behind us and a fresh pot of coffee brewing, we pulled up the guest chairs and discussed what the next step would be.

“The city of Milwaukee has a lot of resources, Sergeant Monroe,” Lieutenant Colgate said. “We don’t want to spread your local department too thin. The drive to Milwaukee every day to work this case would take you away from your own duties in Washburn County.” He pulled the coffee carafe from the brew station and filled our cups.

“I appreciate the concern.” I crossed my right leg over my left and reached for my coffee cup. I took a sip. “What do you have in mind?”

“If the blood in the house on Meinike Avenue comes up as a match to Morris’s, well, it’s a pretty good guess that we’ve found our crime scene. We can work it from there. He lived in Milwaukee. The crime, if the blood is a match, happened in Milwaukee. The only thing we’re missing is Morris’s body. His uncle intends to handle the funeral arrangements?”

“Yes, he said he would,” Jack responded.

“I’ll agree to release Morris’s body to you if the blood is a match. Of course, we’ll need approval from higher up. If your forensic team finds any trace evidence that might help us in our own county, we’ll need it. Also, as a professional courtesy, we’d like a phone call if you solve the case and actually apprehend Morris’s killer,” I said.

“You got it, Sergeant. Our boys in the crime lab should be able to tell us if it’s a definitive match first thing in the morning, especially with Morris’s DNA already on file.”

“Then I guess that should wrap it up on our end for now. Are your guys going to conduct the interviews with Bobby James and LeJon Clyde?”

“Yep, I’ll get a couple of detectives on it right away,” Lieutenant Colgate said.

Detective Lindstrom spoke up again. “I’ll do it. I’m familiar with them already. I’ll let you know how the interview goes.”

“Thanks. Let’s catch up tomorrow,” I said.

Jack and I stood, shook hands, and left. I looked at the clock in the car—six o’clock. I suggested stopping on our way back to grab a bite to eat.

Jack found a decent restaurant right off the freeway, and he pulled in. We exited the car and seated ourselves in a booth. We ordered our much-needed meals and sat back, both of us exhaling a deep sigh. It had been a long day. The waitress brought over a fresh carafe of coffee and placed it on our table, smiled, and told us our orders should be up in just a few minutes.

“So how do you feel about handing off Morris’s case?” Jack poured creamer in his coffee, stirred it, and passed the small stainless steel container over to me.

“It’s the sensible thing to do if the blood in the house is actually his. If they do find relevant trace, we’re already working the case as a joint effort anyway.”

“Yeah, I guess. I just hope this perp is caught quickly. Someone that vicious needs to be taken off the streets as soon as possible.”

He sat in the basement, going over his notes from yesterday, a beer on the side table. Following Elise Adams home last night took him through town for several miles, then three miles of country roads before ending in a rural subdivision. He needed to avoid cameras and traffic if he was going to be successful. The best place to take her out would be after she turned left on Country-Aire Road. There was nothing but darkness on that two-mile stretch. He remembered seeing the sign for Glacier Hills County Park about a mile down that quiet road, void of houses. It would work out perfectly. Elise had a yoga class until nine, and he would be waiting for her afterward. The fun would happen on her drive home.

It looks like we’re going to get to know each other up close and personal tonight, Elise. I’m looking forward to it.
He chuckled, went upstairs, and clicked off the basement light, then made himself dinner. He had three hours to kill before showtime.

Later as he drove to North Bend, he decided to watch for her from the Country Inn parking lot several blocks from the yoga studio. She had to pass the hotel to go home, and he knew the strip mall had camera surveillance. Her white Malibu would be easy to see, even at night. The city streetlights continued on for a mile beyond the hotel before rural darkness took over. The hotel had cameras too, but he’d already decided where to park. The cameras faced the main parking lot and hotel lobby. He’d park along the driveway at the back exit. The spot was perfect. He’d have access to the street and a good view of Elise when she drove by. His vehicle wouldn’t be on camera either.

At 9:27, she appeared. She waited third in line at the red light in front of the hotel. He quickly jotted down the time, pulled the black hoodie up to conceal his face, then started his car and pulled out. He didn’t have to follow so closely this time—he knew her route. He’d pull her over on Country-Aire Road.

The black gloves and his kill bag sat on the passenger seat. He would use his own tools only if absolutely necessary. He’d prefer to use her yoga gear—a fitting end, in a way—and nothing to tie him to the crime.

He saw her left blinker flash—the time was near, and his heart was racing. He’d wait until he was close to the park entrance to make his move, about halfway down that eerily dark road. She was about four car lengths ahead of him when it was time to act. He sped up, swerved around her Malibu, and slammed on his brakes in the center of the road, forcing her to stop. His plan was in motion, and within a split second, he was at the driver’s side window.

“Ma’am, help me, help me. Please, I need a cell phone. My wife is having a seizure in the car. I’m lost.”

She stared, wide eyed and hesitant, before lowering her window.

Wrong move, Elise
.
Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to stop on dark, deserted roads for a stranger? You fool.

With his leather-gloved hand balled in a tight fist, he reached through the window, punched her face as hard as he could, and knocked her out. He looked down the road both ways—no headlights. This task needed to be completed quickly and efficiently. With the driver’s door open, he shoved her across the console to the passenger seat and slid in. He adjusted the driver’s seat and drove the Malibu in through the park entrance, past the empty guard shack, and to the farthest end of the parking lot. He looked across the seat—she was still out. The dim interior light illuminated the shifter settings. He jerked the knob to Park, turned off the car, and got out. The night was quiet and dark with nobody around. He had Elise all to himself. Dime walked around to the passenger side and opened the door. In an instant, she coiled her legs and kicked him in the face. Dime staggered back.

“Now you’re going to pay, you bitch.”

He grabbed her ankles as she screamed and kicked, but another hard punch to the face silenced her. He checked the contents of her yoga bag and found exactly what he needed. Stretch cords, a mat, and a pair of black tights would do the trick. He pulled the headlamp out of his pocket and secured it around his head, then grasped each of her ankles and yanked her out of the car. Her head hit the doorsill with a loud thump, then he pulled her into the darkness. Dime trudged through a swampy area loaded with cattails, over the top of a ridge, and back down into a gully before releasing her legs and letting them drop to the ground. He unrolled the mat that was jammed into the front of his zipped jacket and spread it out, then took in his surroundings. A thick stand of trees and a lot of underbrush covered the ground in this secluded area. The location was perfect.

He flopped her unconscious body onto the mat facedown and hog-tied her hands and feet behind her back with the stretch cords, then moved on to the tights. With the tights wrapped twice around her neck and his knee on her back for leverage, he pulled them toward him. Gurgles sounded from deep within her throat, and her body jerked in protest until the life was choked out of her, and she was dead. He released his grip, and her body fell forward with a thud. Dime covered her corpse with twigs, leaves, and branches he scoured from the area. He checked the time—9:55. Taking a different route back to her car would be smart, and there wouldn’t be noticeable disturbances in the ground cover. He didn’t want to make the cops’ job too easy for them.

At her car, he pulled her cell phone and wallet from the yoga bag, removed the battery from the phone, and left her keys in the ignition. A token clue was placed on the hood of her car.

The short jog to his Jeep took only three minutes. He started the engine, made a U-turn in the park entrance, and headed to his house twenty minutes away. He looked forward to morning and hoped there would be something on the local news about a missing yoga instructor.

Dime checked his face in the bathroom mirror when he got home and saw a noticeable knot on his forehead from her kick. Luckily she was wearing only tennis shoes. He applied ice and went downstairs to drink a beer. Elise’s phone and wallet went behind the bookcase with Morris’s belongings. Dime climbed the stairs, turned off the basement light, and got ready for bed.

As he reached to turn out the bedroom table lamp, the voices spoke to him again.
See what she made you do. It’s all her fault, as usual, the bitch.

I entered the bull pen with a cup of coffee from Pit-Stop. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try it. Jack was a fan. A bag of a dozen assorted doughnuts would offer a good start to the morning too. I’d be generous and share.

I’d planned to work for a few hours, considering it was Saturday. Half days were meant for catching up if there was something pressing and clearing paperwork off my desk if there wasn’t. I planned to follow up with the guys from the third district precinct and see if they got a blood match. Maybe soon we’d be able to release Morris’s body to his uncle so he could arrange a proper burial. If the DNA from the crime scene matched, and there was no other usable forensic evidence for us, we could wrap everything up on our end and have Morris’s body transported to Milwaukee. Detective Lindstrom might have some information about his interview with LeJon and Bobby too, if he found them.

I’d work until noon then go home and begin sorting through things I wanted to get rid of. I’d promised Amber we’d talk about living arrangements. I hadn’t given it any thought at all since she mentioned it. I wrote myself a note to call Melissa Mately again to confirm our appointment to look at condos tomorrow. It would be fun, and Amber would love to tag along. I was tired of Lance’s calls and was ready to get on with my life. He wasn’t coming back. I’d start going through things seriously—no more procrastinating.

Jack walked in with coffee from Pit-Stop too.

“You must have just missed me,” I said. “This cup of mud isn’t too bad.”

“You like?” He lifted his jumbo cup and slurped it from the opening in the plastic lid.

“Yeah, I think it might grow on me, but I could never drink as much as you do. I’d have serious heartburn. Here, check out the doughnuts I bought. Help yourself.” I laughed when he dove for the unopened bag. He would get first dibs. The lieutenant, Clayton, anybody else that happened by, and I would enjoy whatever was left.

The phone rang on Jack’s desk. With a quick swallow and a gulp of coffee to wash down the custard-filled doughnut, he answered. “Washburn County Sheriff’s Department, Detective Jack Steele speaking. Yes, uh-huh. Okay, sir, that’s correct. Just turn left on Schmidt Road. We’re right behind the courthouse. Two-story tan building, you can’t miss it. Yep, see you in a half hour.”

“Now what’s going on?” I asked as I leaned my chair back and stretched. I had hoped for a quiet morning.

Jack grabbed the notes he had just scribbled down and took a seat on one of my guest chairs. “Isn’t this the name of your yoga instructor?”

“What?” I sat up quickly, and my body involuntarily stiffened. “Let me see.” I grabbed his notepad and read the name,
Elise Adams
. “Oh no. Her husband says she didn’t come home last night?”

“Yeah, he’s on his way in, should be here in a half hour. He’s dropping their kids off at the grandparents’ house first. I’ll get a fresh pot of coffee started.”

“Good. I’ll give the lieutenant a heads-up. We can’t file a missing person’s report yet, though. It’s too early.”

Jack nodded.

The loud buzz of the security door between the bull pen and the reception counter made me look up from my desk. Perry Adams was escorted in at nine fifteen by Jan Seymore, one of the desk deputies that rotated between dispatch and the reception counter. Mr. Adams’s eyes were visibly red and swollen. Jack and I stood and introduced ourselves when he walked in.

I pointed to a guest chair at my desk. “Mr. Adams, please take a seat. How do you take your coffee?”

“Black, please.”

“May we call you Perry?”

“Sure, that’s fine.”

“Okay, start from the beginning. I want to tell you up front that I attend your wife’s evening yoga classes. Elise is a wonderful woman.”

“Then you were there last night?” he asked, hope filling his eyes.

“No, sorry, I went to Thursday night’s class. What can you tell us, Perry?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary. She called at nine fifteen. Class just ended, and she was packing up. She wanted to know if we had enough milk for the kids’ breakfast cereal. I checked and said we had plenty. That was it.” He paused to compose himself and wipe a tear that rolled down his cheek. “Our kids were already tucked into bed and sleeping. I went to bed myself and clicked on the TV. I intended to wait up for her to get home, but I must have fallen asleep.”

“How long does it usually take Elise to get home from the yoga studio if she doesn’t stop anywhere?” Jack asked as he flipped the page in his notepad.

Perry rubbed his forehead as he thought. “I don’t know, twenty minutes, I guess.”

“So what happened when you woke up earlier?” I asked.