Tunnel Vision (15 page)

“Considering that it could have been the killer who led you to the body, it looks like a taunt of some kind. Look what I did. That sort of thing. He’s proud of his work, but you weren’t moving fast enough for him and he had to give you a clue about the location. He may believe he’s smarter than the average person. Possibly a superiority complex and just as likely undeserved.”

“Yeah, that’s what Weston said. You think he could’ve done this before?” Brodie asked.

“A serial?”

“Maybe not a serial. We would have heard about other police departments finding human heads lying around. But the sort of no-muss-no-fuss way he did it makes me think he isn’t a beginner.”

“It’s possible he’s done it before, but maybe not on a person. Any reports about mutilated animals?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t checked with animal control lately, but I will. Could it be a doctor?”

“If it was, he wasn’t a surgeon,” Camille

answered, reopening the folder and looking through the enclosed photographs of the body. “The cuts appear to be pretty good from what I could see in the pictures, but are not professional quality. Looks like he might have felt hurried for some reason.”

“You mean he took all that time to plan and set everything up and then got in a hurry.”

“It’s possible he was becoming bored. He might not have derived the thrill he thought he would from the act.”

“Great. A killer with attention deficit disorder,”

Brodie said, finishing her coffee.

“Why do you think he chose this particular victim?” Camille asked as she sipped her coffee.

“I don’t know. Weston has a theory, but we can’t confirm any of it yet. Maybe he thought no one would miss the guy. Maybe he cruised the whole town looking for someone to hack up. Maybe he’s in Alaska fileting Eskimos by now.”

“I doubt he’s left the area,” Camille said, removing her glasses. “He’d want to stick around to see how close you can get to him. Then he might leave. Of course, if it is a superiority thing, he might stay even then, believing he’s smart enough to evade capture.”

“Well, everyone slips up sooner or later no matter how smart they think they are. As soon as I can come up with a motive, I’ll be on his ass.”

“What if there wasn’t a motive?”

“There’s always a motive, honey. It might be a lame one, but there’ll be one. I just have to find it.”

Brodie rubbed her temples, the nagging headache she’d had the last four days still lingering.

“This case is only a few days old and it’s getting to you already. When did your headaches start?”

“Over the weekend. We’ve got a John Doe that’s probably a homicide, too. Weston thinks it could be related to Garcia’s case, but we haven’t found any positive evidence of that.”

“Rough week.”

“Yeah, and it’s not even half over.”

“How is everything else at work, RB?”

“Fine,” she lied tersely.

Camille didn’t say anything. She picked up the folders and handed them to Brodie. “Tell me about Maggie,” she said.

“Not much to tell,” Brodie shrugged, trying to avoid the subject of her ex-lover.

“How hostile have you been toward her?”

The question seemed to surprise the detective.

“Probably more than I need to be. I’m not sure I can evaluate her objectively,” she said.

“How does she treat you?”

“What do you mean? I’m her training officer.”

“So she’s forced to at least put on a facade of respect due to your position?”

“Pretty much.”

“She’s bound to have changed over the last seven or eight years. Tell me about her.”

Looking uncomfortable, Brodie had to think a few minutes to carefully choose the right words. “She hasn’t changed much. A little more mature, I guess.”

“Attractive?”

“Yeah, I suppose. Why all the questions, Camille?

I can handle it. It was a surprise when I found out she’d be here. That’s all. I’ll adjust like I always have.”

Camille took a long breath and looked at Brodie a moment before speaking again.

“Maybe your feelings for Maggie haven’t changed as much as you thought they had.”

“Look, I’m sorry for the shitty way I acted last weekend. How about you let me take you out next weekend to make it up to you?”

“I don’t think that would be a good idea right now, RB,” Camille said softly.

Brodie looked at her and frowned. “I made a mistake and overreacted, but Maggie Weston is nothing more than a trainee.”

Camille chuckled slightly. “I haven’t been doing my job very well,” Camille finally said. “I advise my patients every day to face the reality of their lives and move on. I should have taken my own advice. I like you, RB.”

“I like you, too. Is that a problem?”

“It’s becoming one. You obviously haven’t gotten past your feelings for Maggie. It was always there before, in the shadows like the bastard child at a reunion, but now… Well, it won’t get any better.”

“Are you jealous of what I had with Maggie?”

Brodie asked, beginning to feel somewhat defensive.

“I’m not jealous of what you had with Maggie, but what you still want from her. Most women dream of a relationship like that. You and I have been seeing each other a long time, but realistically I know you don’t love me the way I might expect you to after all these years. I’ve never demanded anything from you and I’m not now.”

“Are you insinuating I’ve been using you in some way?” Brodie’s voice had begun to rise.

“Last weekend…” she started, looking down at her hands, “last weekend told me a great deal. I’m not prepared to let myself be used as a surrogate for the woman you really want, RB.” Twisting her lips into a half smile she added, “It’s bad for my self-esteem. I want more from our relationship and I’m not sure you’re willing to, or even capable of giving me that. I need someone who wants me and loves me as much as I think you still want and love Maggie Weston.”

She knew Camille was right. She hadn’t gotten over Maggie and wasn’t sure it was something she could ever erase from her memory. She had never entrusted her emotions, her happiness, her very soul, to another woman until she met Maggie. She had never admitted to anyone, not even herself really, how much losing Maggie had shattered her life. Periodically, unexpectedly, the smallest thing would trigger the random memories lying dormant in her mind.

“I…I don’t know what to say, Camille,” Brodie finally said, her voice shaky.

Camille got up and handed Brodie the file folders as she took her hand and walked toward the office door. “Call me in a few days,” she said as she leaned over and kissed Brodie on the cheek, wishing there were more she could do for the troubled woman who had been her lover for nearly six years. “We can talk about it some more…if you want to.”

MAGGIE TOOK A deep breath as she stepped out of her car in front of her parents’ home. She had been dreading dinner with her family since she accepted her mother’s invitation. She hadn’t been home for a dinner with her parents, her brothers and their families since Christmas. That one had ended badly and she hoped tonight wouldn’t be round two. Walking to the passenger side of the Subaru, she lifted a covered casserole dish from the floorboard and closed the door with her hip. Peg Weston was waiting on the porch, drying her hands on her everpresent apron as Maggie made her way up the front steps. Balancing the dish in one hand, she hugged her mother quickly before stepping inside. She took in the smell of food cooking. She couldn’t remember a time when the interior of the Weston home hadn’t been filled with the smell of her mother’s cooking. The sound of raucous laughter floated down the hallway from the family room.

“I’ll take that, dear,” Peg said. “Go say hello to your father and brothers.”

“Where are the wives and kiddies?” Maggie

asked. “Shuttled off to watch television quietly so they won’t disturb the menfolk?” She saw the look of disappointment on her mother’s face and almost regretted making the remark.

“Don’t start anything with your father tonight, Maggie. Let’s enjoy a meal together like the family we have always been.”

Maggie carried her dish toward the kitchen. “I’ll see them in a minute, Mom. How are you doing?”

“Why I’m fine, as always. Why do you ask?” Peg asked as she flipped on the inside oven light to check a pan of home baked rolls.

“I thought maybe Dad was driving you crazy being around all the time now that he’s retired,”

Maggie shrugged.

“Oh, no. Your father still visits his friends from the department and we have them over for poker night. He’ll never really retire,” Peg said with a smile. Maggie never understood how her mother could remain so calm. Nothing seemed to faze her. Her husband and all five of her children were police officers. Usually one was enough to make most wives babbling neurotics after a short period of time. But Peg Weston considered it as nothing more than a family tradition. Three of her sons were with the Austin Police Department. Sean and Liam were both detectives and Sean was up for a promotion to watch commander. Daniel was a sergeant in the patrol division. Until Maggie resigned from Austin PD to take her new position in Cedar Springs a month earlier, the only black sheep in the family had been her youngest brother, Carl, who had jumped ship and joined the Department of Public Safety as a state trooper.

As she looked in the refrigerator for something to drink, strong arms wrapped around her body and lifted her in the air. “That beer better be for me, girl,”

Liam said as he carried her away from the fridge.

“Put me down, you big ox,” Maggie said through her laughter.

Setting her back on the floor and grabbing the bottle from her hand, he said, “Why’re you hidin’ out in here?”

“I thought I’d talk to Mom before I had to listen to the rest of you grunt and groan about your jobs the rest of the night. Where’s Ruth?”

“Washing the kids up for dinner. Dad wants to know how much longer, Mom?”

“Tell your father five minutes,” Peg said as she pulled the rolls from the oven. “Maggie, find out what everyone wants to drink.”

She took a deep breath and sauntered into the family room. It was a familiar sight. Her brothers surrounded their father as if he was the king of an empire, hanging on his every word. Tim half-smiled when he saw Maggie. “Good to see you again, Margaret,” he said.

“Mom wants to know what everyone wants to

drink with dinner,” she said as she crossed the space between them to lean down and place the expected kiss on her father’s cheek.

“Milk for the kids,” Tim said. “Everyone else will probably have tea or coffee.”

Dinner was on the table by the time she finished filling everyone’s drink request and she took her usual seat to her mother’s right at the table. After a quick prayer, everyone erupted into conversation. For the first time she was glad to be seated next to her mother and surrounded by her sisters-in-law. The children were all seated at a separate smaller table in the nearby kitchen.

Just when she thought she might escape talk about her new job, Tim asked, “So how are things out there in the boonies, Margaret? Catch any jay-walkers yet?”

Full mouths chuckled as they waited for her reply.

“No. No, I haven’t, Dad,” she said tersely. “But we have a couple of interesting homicides right now.”

“Homicides? Tell me about them.” It was obvious that his interest was piqued, but Maggie glanced quickly at her mother before speaking.

“Maybe later. You know Mom doesn’t like shop talk at the table with the kids here.”

“Okay,” Tim nodded. “Fair enough, in deference to your mother. How’s your training going? Fred Donaldson is a good man. He’ll see you’re trained right.”

“My training’s fine so far, but I’ve only been on the job a couple of days. I’ve still got a lot to learn. Everyone has been extremely helpful in teaching me the paperwork. They do things a little differently than you do in Austin.”

She hoped that would be the end of the questions about her new position and turned to compliment her mother on the meal. “So who’s your training officer out there?” her father asked as he sliced into the meat on his plate. “If he does a good job we can transfer you back in a few months.”

She hesitated before looking down the table at her father. “I’m not planning to transfer back to Austin. I like living in Cedar Springs. It’s not as…political…as Austin.”

“You’ll get bored there soon enough,” Tim

smirked. “You can earn twice the money here if you’re properly trained.”

“I’m being properly trained.”

“So who did you say your TO was? Maybe I know him.”

Maggie looked around the table. Her father and brothers were staring at her, waiting while they chewed. She had hoped to enjoy the evening with her family, but obviously that idea was soon going to be shot to shit. “Lieutenant Royce Brodie,” she finally stated in a clear voice.

Tim stopped cutting through the meat and his eyes narrowed as he brought them up to meet Maggie’s. He glanced at the smaller table behind him where his six grandchildren were sitting. Keeping his voice low, he asked, “Did you know who your training officer was going to be before you started work?”

Raising her chin defiantly, she said, “Yes.”

“And how long will it be before you let that bitch back in your fuckin’ pants?”

“Calm down, Dad,” Sean said, casting a glance at the children.

Peg looked nervously toward the smaller table.

“Are you children ready for some dessert?” she asked, trying to keep her voice cheerful. Eager faces looked up, not believing their luck at getting an early treat. Pushing her chair back, she stood and smiled. “Go on into the den and I’ll bring it to you.”

Maggie looked down at her plate of half eaten food and shoved it away. She rested her elbows on the table and rubbed her forehead with the tips of her fingers until her nieces and nephews had disappeared from the kitchen. She knew there was nothing she could say that wouldn’t lead to a monumental argument. Turning her head to the side she glared at her father. “I already know what you think about me because I’m a lesbian, but that’s insulting.”

“It’s been eight goddamn years and I know you haven’t been a nun, sleeping with one woman after another, doing God knows what…”