Tainted Pictures (7 page)

           “Kate!  Kate!!  Stop screaming!  What’s wrong?  Did I hurt you?”  Derrick was calling to her and she blinked, puzzled, as she looked at him.  

           “What?”  She asked him confused, wondering why the last few minutes felt so foggy and why she felt so anxious.  

           “You were just screaming at the top of your lungs! What do you mean ‘what’?”  Derrick asked her, concern etched across his face as he pulled her forward and into his lap on the bed.  

           “Kate, I’m really sorry.  I didn’t mean to frighten you.  I promise I won’t push anything, take all the time you need.”  Derrick said, feeling guilty about coming on to her when she was clearly not ready for that only a little over two weeks after the attack.  

           Kate hadn’t even realized that she had been screaming, but she remembered the flashback.  She remembered every image like it had been painted right onto the inside of her eyelids.  Things had been so fuzzy for a moment, then brutally clear, then confusing again as she realized she was in bed with Derrick.  

           She had to remind herself that she was safe.  

           She had Derrick.    

~~~~

           “I bet that’s Detective Snow.” Derrick said to Kate as he slipped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck, standing behind her.  She gulped nervously and pushed the negative thoughts out of her mind.  She had to remind herself that it was just Derrick’s strong hands wrapped around her.   Derrick let go of her and walked over to the bed, picking up his shirt and pulling it on over his head.  The duo had been finishing getting dressed when there was a knock at the door.

           “I’ll get it.” She smiled at him, seeing him behind her in the mirror. Kate headed out of the bedroom to go answer the front door, smoothing down her skirt and adjusting her blouse.  

           Kate opened the door and gave a forced smile to the two detectives standing in front of her.  Detective Liz Snow was standing in the doorway with her partner, Detective McCraig, behind her.  He just nodded his head at her, he was a very stoic person always standing in a military stance.  

           “Hi Kate, how are you feeling?”  Snow asked her as she walked past Kate into the apartment, with her partner close behind.  

           “I’m feeling a lot better.  Time, you know.”  Kate told them, closing the door behind McCraig.  The detectives picked different seats in the living room, McCraig in an armchair by the window and Snow on the couch.  Kate went to go sit next to Snow, angled to face her.  

           “Well, I think you will feel even better than that when you hear what we have to tell you.” Detective Snow beamed at her.

           “Is there a break in my case?”  Kate asked, her eyebrows jumping up in surprise and excitement.

           “Yes, we ran the evidence from your rape kit and some of the DNA came back as a partial match to a Tracy Glen.  Have you ever heard that name before?”  Detective Liz Snow asked her, looking hopeful.

           “Tracy Glen?  That’s a man’s name?”  Kate was clueless, never having heard that name before.  She searched her mind to see if she was missing anything.

           “Yes, he is a man.  Have you ever heard of him before?”  The detective reiterated to her.

           “I’m trying to think but I really don’t think I’ve ever met or heard of anyone with that name before.” Kate looked disappointed.

           “Hey, don’t beat yourself up about it.  It’s entirely possible that this was a stranger and you never met him before.”  Detective McCraig spoke up suddenly from his quiet spot in the back corner.  Kate turned to look at him, surprised, but relieved at his assurance.

           “Exactly.  We don’t know what this means yet, but that isn’t the entire story either.  The DNA wasn’t a direct match to Tracy Glen.  It had similar characteristics in common with the DNA we found in your kit.  Basically, we are saying that that DNA we found in your rape kit is from a direct relative to Tracy Glen.  Most likely a brother or close cousin, maybe even a half brother.  It could even be an uncle, but we are thinking that might not fit in with the age range of our suspect.”  Snow explained to Kate.  

           “Wow, so you can just look up who Tracy Glen is and who he is related to?  How will you find him?” Kate asked, intrigued.

           “That is the best part of the news! Tracy Glen is in jail, has been for the last five years.  So, we know exactly where to find him and can go try to track down his relatives.  We are headed there next to talk to him.”  Snow continued.

           “Right now?  You are going to talk to Tracy Glen now?  So, you might know who it is today?  This could be solved today?”  Kate began sounding excited as she sat up straighter on the couch, her eyes open and alert.  She saw movement in her peripheral vision and turned to see Derrick leaning against the doorway, having been listening to the conversation.  She smiled at him and he smiled back, sharing her excitement.   

           Derrick was purposefully staying in the background because he wanted Kate to know that he was there for her, but he didn’t want to step in and take over.  He knew that control and power were of paramount importance to Kate right now and that he needed to let her be in charge.  He needed to hand her the reigns to her own life even though all he wanted to do was ride in on a white horse and save his damsel in distress.  

           “Yes, ma’am. Right now, he is in upstate Maryland at a mid-level security prison.  We have already alerted them to have him ready for interrogation, we will figure this out.  This is really great news, Kate.”  Detective Snow emphasized to her again.  She wanted Kate to feel safe and she knew that having the attacker in police custody was the only solution to that.  

           Kate seemed to know what Detective Snow was trying to convey to her and it was working.  She felt this ease drape over her shoulders and swallow her whole.  Her muscles unclenched, her posture slumped, and she let out a deep breath that she had been holding in for days.  There was a light at the end of the tunnel, this nightmare was almost over.  

           Kate looked at Derrick again and smiled.  They didn’t have to say anything to each other because the unbreakable gaze between them described it all.  Love flowed across the wave lengths to one another in cascading heaps and Kate knew that she was just happy to still have Derrick, to still feel love.  Not just love, but in love.  The betrayal and mistakes he made could be pushed away and forgotten if her attacker was gone and buried, no longer lurking in the back of her mind as a reminder.  She could put it all behind her now and just be head over heels in love with Derrick.

CHAPTER SIX

           Kate practically waltzed into work that morning with almost the complete opposite attitude that she had displayed the previous morning on her first day back to work since the attack.  When she had walked into the lobby at work yesterday, she had been praying that any bruising or signs of her experience were hidden but today she hadn’t even given it a second thought.  She had still put on as much makeup as she could to cover them, but she wasn’t walking around terrified of what everyone else was seeing.  

           Her past was behind her and so were here bruises, healing quickly every day.  Kate was starting to feel like herself for the first time since before the attack.  Herbert grinned at her the moment he saw her coming in the door and engaged her in a lively chat about the weather.  She practically danced to the elevator and clicked the button just once, humming while she waited for the doors to open for her.  Normally she would press the button six or seven times, just to be sure in some illogical act of insecurity.  

           Not today.  Today she didn’t need extra bits of false security to make her feel at ease, she was completely calm and relief was as plentiful as air.  She smiled at the crowd of people on the elevator as she squeezed her way on and ignored the woman with the flu behind her, coughing on her shoulder.  It didn’t even both her when she was hanging up her coat and he coworker, Janet, popped her head over the cubicle with a story about one of her children selling wrapping paper.  Kate just smiled and handed over a check for whatever hideous gift wrap was being offered this year.  She already had tied a beautiful ribbon on her day.   

~~~~

           “Tracy Glen, please.  I’m Detective Elizabeth Snow and this is my partner, Mike McCraig, with Metro Police.”  Both detectives slipped their badges underneath the glass through the entry slot to the correctional guard at the Maryland prison.  He looked over both of their badges and held them under a blue light to check their authenticity, then pushed the badges back out to the detectives.  

           “I’m going to need your weapons, detectives.  No weapons allowed in the facility.  Standard procedure.”  The guard handed them out two sealed bags which they quickly scrawled their name on, deposited their guns inside, and then watching as the guard locked them up in a large safe in a room behind him.  When he was finished, he came back and waved them towards the entry door.  

           The door buzzed to their right, indicating that it was being unlocked for them.  McCraig went and pulled it open while Snow thanked the officer.

           “Head into room three, I’ll send a guard to go find your inmate when lock-down is over.  An alarm went off, probably a fight or something, we haven’t heard up here yet.  What was your inmate’s name again?”  The officer asked her.  

           “Tracy Glen.”  She confirmed.  

           “Oh, yeah, he has been popular today.”  He told her, nodding and then disappearing through a metal door behind him in his glass room.  McCraig had furrowed his brows in suspicion but still held the door open for Snow, motioning her through.  The duo walked down a concrete hallway in desperate need of a fresh paint job until they reached a second set of locked doors.  They stood there for a moment until they heard the buzzing sound again, letting them through.  

           Room three was easy to locate after that point, only a few more feet down the next hallway.  They were on the very outskirts of the prison, still a distance away from where prisoners were kept so they knew that there was going to be a bit of a wait.  The room was anything but welcoming with a gray, metal table in the center of the room surrounded by four plastic chairs.  There was a large window on one side that was completely frosted over as well as barred, giving light but no view.  

           The detectives settled into two of the plastic chairs and pulled out their files to give them a quick glance before Tracy Glen joined them.  They both wanted to be on the top of their game and leave nothing out.  This was a huge lead and they both knew they needed it because otherwise they would be completely out of luck.  The detectives had ample opportunity to read and reread the file though as they sat there waiting and watching the minutes slowly click away on the old clock nailed to the concrete wall.  

           McCraig looked down at his watch and let out an exasperated sigh.

           “What the hell is taking so long?  It’s been over an hour we been in here.” McCraig said in the faulty grammar he was known for.  Snow didn’t respond, but just shrugged.  She was just as irritated as he was but preferred not to show it.  She liked to be in control, calm and collected at all times.  She began to count the ticks on the clock, one for each second.  She stared at it mindlessly, counting her way out of boredom.  

           “Are you the officers waiting for Tracy Glen?”  A short and balding man suddenly popped his head in through the door almost 90 minutes after they had entered the room.  McCraig nodded sullenly from his chair and Snow stood up to face the door.

           “Detectives. And yes, we have been waiting for over an hour and a half.  Is he ready yet?”  She asked, trying and failing to keep the agitation out of her tone.  The bald man walked awkwardly into the room shuffling his feet, and pushing his hands into his suit pant’s pockets.  He blew out with a large exhale and then licked his lips.

           “See here’s the thing.  We’ve been on lock-down for the last two hours. I’m Phillip Williams, but you can call me Phil.  I’m the warden here and, uh, well we’ve had an unfortunate incident of sorts.”  He told them, shifting his gaze to avoid direct eye contact with them.  Neither detective responded, they were waiting for further explanation.  The warden sighed again then continued, rubbing his pudgy hand over his bald head.  For a warden, he was the last type of person you expected at first glance.  He was awkward and non-threatening and his stature made him small and forgettable.   

           “Tracy Glen died this morning.”  He stated simply, tossing his hands up in frustration and then clasping them together in front of his stomach where his hands continued to fidget nervously.  

           “He is dead?  What are you talking about, I just spoke to an officer this morning who said Tracy would be ready when we got here!”  Detective Snow was standing inches from the warden now, her voice raised and threatening to turn into shouting very soon.  McCraig stood up slowly and walked the long way around the table, carefully deciphering what he was hearing.   

           “How did he die?” McCraig didn’t skip a beat as he glared at Phil.  

           “You know, the investigation isn’t complete yet, but I can have them send you a report in a few weeks once its finalized.”  The warden told them as he opened the door again behind them, hoping to attempt a speedy exit.  

           That wasn’t going to fly with McCraig.

           With a quick jerk of his foot, McCraig kicked the door shut leaving the warden stuck in the room with them.  He slowly took a step closer to him while Detective Snow stepped to the side, knowing not to get in McCraig’s way when he was pissed.  And this was one pissed off McCraig.  

           “I’m going to ask you this one more time.” He said in a deep and throaty growl, less than six inches from Phil’s face.  Phil looked surprised but not alarmed.  He held himself surprisingly well for someone who had just pissed off McCraig.