CHAPTER ONE
He straddled her chest—for leverage. His hands tingled as his fingers curled tight. He had to apply just the right amount of pressure. Her jerky movements increased as he squeezed her neck. The girl’s chest hardened under his weight, holding on to the last bit of air in her lungs. The beautiful smoky brown color of her eyes faded, replaced with a dull gray cloud that crept from one side to the other. A gleeful smile tugged at his mouth when red dots popped on the sclera. Her bladder released, announcing the end. His fingers uncurled from her neck, and a heavy sigh escaped his lips. He stared down at her as the stillness and quiet of the room engulfed him.
The corners of his mouth twitched as his trip down memory lane was interrupted. He heard the begging from the far side of the room. He stared at the girl he held captive. He’d chosen this one because she resembled HER, but she didn’t live up to his expectations. None did anymore. He wondered if he would ever find another like HER. The one thing all these girls had in common, they all begged—eventually. He turned away and finished the preparations.
***
The thin mattress offered Becca little comfort. Leather straps bound her ankles and wrists to the bed. The slow melodic tune he whistled bounced off the cold concrete walls and pierced her eardrums like a hundred tiny pinpricks. Becca flinched at the sound of the chain hitting the floor as he hooked it to a ring in the ceiling. She closed her eyes. The man didn’t care about her pleas. He had no plans to let her go.
She thought about how she got here. Becca’s parents had given her a reprieve from her month-long grounding and allowed her to go to the mall with her two best friends. They chortled and bounced from store to store as they flirted with all the cute boys. The smell of freshly baked cookies and pretzels wafted through the air. Becca and her friends stopped for a snack and to chat with the boy behind the counter. That’s where she met him, outside Cookie Crumbs. She bumped into him and then spent a few hours walking around the mall with him. Her stomach fluttered when he asked her to leave with him. What seemed like the best way to spend the remainder of her one day of freedom turned into the start of her worst nightmare.
Becca rocked back and forth muttering to herself. She watched him and prayed that he planned a quick death for her. As if he knew she stared at him, he glanced over his shoulder and winked at her. Becca shook uncontrollably, gasping for air as she clawed at the straps around her wrists.
Her eagerness to push her parents and their rules aside landed her here, in a cold, damp basement. Becca spent the last few months pushing as hard as she could to get away from her life. A life that seemed filled with endless chores and babysitting her little brother. As bad as she thought her life had been, these last few days were nothing short of Hell. She wanted that life back.
She cried out. “Oh God, please help me—please help me. Please, please help me.” The sobs that choked her now burst out as her begging erupted into broken wails. The man turned and glowered at her, but she no longer cared. He planned to kill her. What did she care if he beat her before he did it? Becca leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her thighs. “I’m so sorry Mom, I’m so sorry.” She hiccupped between the sobs. “I love you, Mom—Dad, I love you…” She repeated the mantra until her throat ached.
Becca saw the man turn and walk across the basement towards her. Her eyes widened; her prayers and pleas stopped. The man leered at her. She noticed the light as it bounced off the blade. Becca screamed.
CHAPTER TWO
Division Central Chicago, IL
Lieutenant Damien Kaine dragged himself into the Vicious Crimes Unit. He plopped down at his desk, letting his arms hang limply. His athletic body sagged in his chair as he closed his eyes and leaned back. The air in the VCU hung thick and stale with the odor of burnt coffee and smelly socks. The stench made Damien’s stomach roll. He blocked out the noise of the squad room and contemplated using his weapon on himself, the relief it might bring from the pounding in his head. Whiskey from the night before still coursed through his veins; flowing to the same beat that thumped inside his skull.
The morning had started off crappy when he threw his alarm clock against the wall. That made three this month. He could kick his own ass for letting Joe, his best friend and partner, talk him into going out last night. Damien had drunk too much, and today he paid the price. Hell, he’d been paying the price for several months now. Damien hadn’t been a big drinker until the night he found Camilla in that hotel room. Since his canceled engagement, he and a bottle of whiskey spent a lot of time together.
He couldn’t lay all the blame on Camilla, unfortunately. The job had taken its toll. The nightmares were never-ending. The dead never stayed dead. They liked to hang around in his dreams and bug the living shit out of him. Damien had considered turning in his resignation when Captain Mackey asked him to take the lieutenant’s exam. Against his better judgment, he did. He passed. Now he felt stuck.
Damien opened one eye and checked his surroundings. VCU shared the seventh floor with the Electronics and Cyber Division. His eyes widened as he stared at the detectives behind the glass wall of the ECD enclosure. They never sat down. They danced and shimmied to an unheard rhythm. Damien imagined that beat came from the constant tapping of their fingers on computer keyboards. Why do they move around so damn much? His body shook at the disturbing sight.
Damien spun around in his chair. He ran a hand through his jet-black hair, causing it to stand in a wavy mess. Detective Jenkins sat across from him. Jenkins’ shaggy brown hair hung over the collar of his shirt. It swayed a little every time he tossed that damn tennis ball into the air, which he did whenever he got stuck in a case. Usually, it didn’t bother Damien, but today it added an echo to the thumping in his head. Jenkins was with them last night. He drank just as much as Damien did, and yet he looked like he hadn’t touched one drop.
Detective Jenkins smiled at Damien who glared back through bloodshot eyes. “Kaine, you sure don’t seem as happy as you did last night at Mulligan’s.” Reclining in his chair, he stretched his long legs to the far side of his desk. “This morning you resemble dead dog shit warmed over. Nice hair—Lieutenant.”
Damien pressed his lips tight to keep from smiling. “Fuck you, Jenkins.”
“Ouch,” Jenkins said. “Not very nice.”
Detective Joe Hagan entered the VCU looking upbeat and well-rested. “Yo, Kaine, how do you feel this morning? Did we keep you out past your bedtime last night?”
Damien watched as Joe’s muscular legs carried his linebacker body with the stealth of a panther, his dark red hair still wet from his morning shower. Damien hung his head in his hands. “You’re a detective, you figure it out.”
Joe’s eyes narrowed as a broad grin pushed his cheeks up high. “Shit man, you’re a wuss. A few drinks and you think you're going to die. Not to mention you’re a cranky fucker, Lieutenant.”
If Joe only knew it wasn’t just a hangover from last night. There haven’t been too many nights he hasn’t used the bottle to help him sleep. Damien ransacked his desk looking for something to quiet the drum core in his head. “Stai zitto!” He snapped at Joe as he rubbed his temples.
“Yeah, yeah. Shut the hell up. Like I don’t hear that every day.” Joe reached into his desk drawer. “Hey cranky pants, here you go.” Joe smiled as he threw a bottle at him.
Damien glanced up as the bottle smacked him in the chest. “Seriously you stupid fuck, can’t you throw?”
Joe roared with laughter. “Can’t you catch?”
“Whatever.” Damien popped four aspirin into his mouth and washed them down with a gulp of the liquid this place tried to pass off as coffee. Hell, most of the time it didn’t even resemble liquid. He peered into his coffee mug. “What the hell is this? It can’t be coffee.”
“Nope, it's Chicago Sludge,” Joe said.
“Well, that explains why it smells and tastes like shit.” Damien laid his head back against the chair. “How the hell can you be so fucking chipper? You drank more than I did.”
“Aye, well, we Irish know how to hold our liquor. Plus, Melanie helped me sweat out any extra alcohol. You should’ve considered taking her friend home with you. I bet you’d be in a much better mood.”
After he had called off his engagement, Damien decided there would be no more women. Well, no more relationships with women. A few one-night stands here or there was all Damien cared to indulge in. And he never spent the entire night with a woman—that meant some kind of commitment. Damien shook his head. “Who the hell is Melanie, and why the hell would I want to take her friend home?”
Joe sat on the corner of Damien’s desk. “Melanie is a new waitress at Mulligan’s. You would know this if you went out with me more often. Her friend wanted to make sure you got home okay and help tuck you into bed.” Joe winked as he took a sip of his soda. “Anyway, turns out Melanie has quite the talent for sucking alcohol right out of your system. Her talents don’t end there either. Did I mention she was a gymnast in high school? Damn, the positions that girl can get into, un-fucking-believable.”
Detective Jenkins threw his head back and howled. “Dang, Joe. Have you slept with the entire female staff at Mulligan’s?”
Joe smiled. “No, only a select few.”
“Kaine, Hagan—you two in my office now!” The captain’s booming voice reverberated off the walls.
Damien jolted upright. He rubbed his eyes hoping the Visine had worked. That morning, his dark blue eyes were almost indigo due to the red ring that surrounded them. He looked like a demon. Which seemed appropriate since he felt like he was in Hell anyway. His headache had receded, but his stomach churned and not because of the whiskey. As a former Marine and the director of VCU, Captain Mackey’s anger could be a dangerous weapon. His six-foot four frame carried nothing but muscle, and his head held a lightning fast brain.
Damien and Joe entered Mackey’s office. The captain loomed behind a massive gunmetal gray desk he had brought with him to the VCU. His square face and wide, strong jaw rose above broad shoulders. Even sitting down, the captain commanded respect.
Damien scowled at Joe as he took a handful of jellybeans from the captain’s candy jar.
Joe frowned at Damien. “What? He wouldn’t have the damn jar if he didn’t want us to eat them.” Joe popped a handful of the colorful beans into his mouth.
Captain Mackey halfway snarled at Joe. “You might find yourself a few digits shy of a full hand one of these days Hagan.”
Joe managed a sheepish grin as he sat.
Damien settled into a chair. His stomach had soured, and the knot that formed now tightened like a coil.
Captain Mackey clasped his hands together on his chest. “First, before we get started,” he stared at Damien, “good job on passing the lieutenant’s exam. I’m sorry I missed your celebration last night, I’m sure you and the others of this unit made asses of yourselves.”
Joe snickered.
Captain Mackey gave him a sideways glance. “Your official ceremony will take place when you return. Starting immediately, you get the benefits of your rank, its privileges, and pay. We also need to discuss your new assignment.”
Damien shifted in his seat searching for relief that wouldn’t come from moving his ass around. His mouth tightened, and his face became taut and rigid. When he returns? New assignment? What the hell did that mean? He studied Mackey, looking for reassurances.
The captain’s lip twitched. “Quit worrying, you’re staying here, and you and Joe will remain partners.” Captain Mackey shook his head. “Even though you two are my best detectives, you both are pains in my ass. Try to pay attention to what I’m about to say.
“I have been toying with the idea of putting a Lieutenant in charge of this Division. These bureaucratic fuckwads finally got their act together and put this damn Unit in place. When I first took this position as head of the VCU, I wanted to get this Unit set up and operating right.
“Now that the Unit is working the way it should, I have more responsibilities that need to be handled. Chief Rosenthal expects certain things from the captains here at Division Central, but as with any other government bureaucracy, shit always rolls downhill. I need someone who can take over the daily responsibilities of this Unit but who can also carry his own caseload.
“I need to put someone in place to handle this group and the Detectives in it. I want someone I can trust. That’s you, Damien.” Captain Mackey sat back and opened his desk drawer. “You’ll report directly to me.” Captain Mackey held a shield out for Damien. “Congratulations. You deserve this. You’d normally get your new shield at the ceremony, but since I must send you off on an assignment, I can't very well have you introduce yourself as a Lieutenant without a Lieutenant’s shield.”
Damien’s mouth hung open as he stared at it. He never considered the possibility of being put in charge of the VCU. His hand shook when he reached for the shield with a sinking feeling in his gut—he wasn’t sure if it was the whiskey remnants or that he didn’t think he wanted the job.
The overhead light bounced off its shiny new surface. He ran his thumb across the front of the badge. Damien almost gave it back. It seemed to sizzle in his hand as if it knew he didn’t deserve to hold it. His actions that night in the hotel should have put him behind bars.
He’d taken the exam thinking if he passed and made rank it would ignite his passion for the job again. He knew from early on he wanted to be a Homicide Detective. Damien felt responsible for helping these victims; they called out to him even in the silence of their death. What he saw daily made him question his own faith. Faith in God. Faith in the Catholic Church. Faith in his ability to uphold the very law he protected.
Damien glanced at Joe. One of the main things keeping him in this job, his friendship with Joe. He no longer knew if that was enough anymore. He forced a faint smile as he focused on the captain. “Wait, you’re telling me I still have to be this knucklehead’s partner?” He nodded towards Joe. “What happened to the perks of rank? This sounds more like punishment.”
Joe punched him in the arm, the equivalent of a congratulatory hug. “Boss or not, I’m the best damn partner you’ve ever had. Who else can put up with your Guinea ass?”
“Boys,” Mackey growled. “You two are worse than my kids,” he said as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
Damien started to say something smartass but saw that Captain Mackey’s pleasant demeanor had changed. He opted to keep his mouth shut.
The captain sat up and placed his elbows on his desk. “A case has come in, and I want you guys to cover it.” He opened the folder in front of him. “Locals who keep a strip of highway clean just outside Springfield, near Astoria, discovered the remains of a young girl.”
Mackey’s face flushed and his nostrils flared as he continued. “Crime Scene Techs have been dispatched, and they’ll deliver everything collected to the Forensic Lab in Springfield. You two need to get down there. You’ll work out of the lab. Director Jones will provide you with whatever you need. Kaine, you need to keep me updated on what you find every step of the investigation. Shoot me a daily report. I don’t want any surprises on this. As of now, this hasn’t been picked up by the media. Let’s keep it that way if possible.” He leaned back in his chair and raised an eyebrow. His gaze locked on Joe like a laser. “Stay out of trouble.”
“What?” Joe shrugged. He grabbed another handful of jellybeans. “We never get in trouble, Captain.”
“Sure you don’t.” Captain Mackey said. “Now go! Get the hell out of here.” He waved them out the door.
***
“Fuck me running,” Joe whispered. He hated cases like this. He had a younger sister, and these cases always hit a little too close to home.
Damien cocked his head towards Joe. “This day is just getting better.”
As Joe walked into the pen, he cleared his throat. “I would like to introduce to you to, Lieutenant Damien Kaine, head of VCU.”
Detective Jenkins stopped working on his computer. “That’s fantastic.”
“Yeah, fantastic,” Damien said.
“Wait until the others find out. Damien, this is awesome, having you as the head of VCU. Personally, I can’t think of anyone who would be a better fit.” Detective Jenkins cocked his head to the side. “Aren’t you happy?” he asked Damien.
“I guess. Yes. I am happy. I had no idea this was in the works. I’m just a little surprised,” Damien said.
“Well, I for one am stoked. However, the expressions on your faces tell me that wasn’t all the captain had to say.”
Joe slammed his desk drawer shut. “Fucking—A on that. A cleanup crew discovered a murdered girl on the side of the road.”
Jenkins winced. “Oh shit, where?”
“Outside Springfield,” Joe said.
“What about Coach, Kaine? I mean Lieutenant. I mean boss.” Jenkins asked with a wild grin. “You need someone to watch him?”
Damien clipped his new shield to his belt. “Jenkins, you hate cats. Why do you want to take care of mine? Wait, I know why—it’s the only pussy you’ll be able to get.”
Jenkins’ lips twitched. “Man, did that sense of humor come with your shiny new badge and promotion?”
Damien’s smile filled his face as he tapped the shield. “Sure did. Maybe they’ll put one of these in a Cracker Jack box because we all know that’s the only way your sorry ass is gonna get one.” Damien grabbed his jacket and nodded at Jenkins. “Thanks for your offer, Jenks. My neighbor Mrs. C. will watch after him. She takes him to her place and spoils him rotten. He loves it.”
“Well, anytime you need me to take him I will,” Jenkins said.
Damien shrugged. Coach showed up one day at his condominium and never left. With his rotund belly, Coach lorded over the condo as if it were his personal kingdom. Oddly enough, Coach had never liked Camilla.
CHAPTER THREE
Damien threw his keys on the table near his front door and headed to the kitchen. He wanted to clean up his place before he packed and picked up Joe. He opened the fridge door, and within minutes, Coach strolled in. No matter where the cat hid in the condo when that refrigerator door opened, Coach magically appeared. Like a fat gargoyle, the cat perched himself next to Damien and beamed disappointment as he watched him clean it out.
“What?” He asked the cat as he scratched Coach’s head. “I will be gone for a while, and this will stink by the time I come home. I’m damn sure your fat ass won’t clean it out.” What the hell, I’m now talking to the cat like he can understand me. Damien sighed. He scratched the cat’s head. Coach head-butted Damien’s thigh, then waddled back out on his beefy legs, no doubt in search of something soft and warm.
Forty minutes later, Damien finished cleaning and packing. He found Coach sprawled out on the sofa. The butterball opened one accusatory eye, questioning the interruption. “Mrs. C. will be by later to check on you. Try to lay off the kibbles, fat ass.” Damien rubbed his belly and scratched under his chin. Coach stretched, yawned, and went back to sleep.
***
Joe had finished packing his bags and sat in the quiet of his large apartment, glancing around. On the top floor of a two-family home, the high ceilings gave it an open and airy feeling. The couple who owned the house lived on the first floor and traveled extensively. In the summer he enjoyed the back deck. It overlooked a park and a wooded area. He had furnished the space with oversized furniture that invited visitors to stay awhile. He’d dated this interior designer for a few months, and she tired of his bachelor pad décor and decorated it for him.
Joe smiled at the memory. The woman’s talents didn’t just stop at interior decorating. She had a very adventurous streak in bed. Damn, I should call her when I get back. He frowned. Joe remembered why he’d quit seeing her—she assumed that because they were intimate, they were on the verge of getting married. He’d come close to that once with a horrible ending. Yeah, not gonna happen. Plus, he had witnessed firsthand all the crap Damien had gone through with Camilla, no way. Joe didn’t want that kind of relationship. Not for a long time. If ever. He wasn’t the settling down type. He enjoyed dating a variety of women.
Joe looked at his watch. He leaned back in his chair closing his eyes. He tried to shove everything out of his mind, just relax and enjoy the silence. But he couldn’t. His thoughts circled back to Damien.
Over the past few months, he’d watched his friend and partner transform into a different person. Ever since he broke it off with Camilla. Truth be known, Joe couldn’t stand her. Joe knew from the start Damien shouldn’t have been with her, but he kept his mouth shut. His friend had to figure it out on his own.
Damien never explained what caused their break up, and Joe never pressed for information. He figured Damien would tell him when he felt ready. Now with this case and a three-hour ride ahead of them, Joe might broach the subject. He knew his friend well enough to know a break up wouldn’t make him act this way. There had to be something else.
Joe jumped at the sound of Damien’s horn. “Showtime,” he said with one last look around his place. Joe bounded down the stairs and heaved his two bags into the back of the SUV, climbed into the passenger seat, and moved it back as far as he could.
Joe stretched out his long legs. “You ready for this?”
“No, but what choice do we have?”
A broad grin formed across Joe’s face. “How’s your headache?”
Damien smirked. “Ha ha. You’re such a friggin hoot. I doubt you’d have been laughing if my head had exploded and you’d had to clean my brain matter off the walls of VCU.”
Van Halen’s Jump rang out from Damien’s phone. The dash’s video screen displayed a phone number of a person he had no desire to speak with, especially with Joe sitting right next to him. “Oh crap, just take my gun and shoot me.” Damien dragged his hand through his hair pulling on the ends. “Yeah, Kaine here.”
“Hey baby, how’re you doing?”
“Camilla, I’m not your fucking baby. Why the hell do you keep calling me?”
“I wanted to know how things are going and see if you wanted to get together this week.”
Her raspy voice used to sound sexy to him. Now, it made Damien want to jab a stick in his ear. Damien clenched his jaw. “Camilla, I told you, I don’t want to see you again, ever. What part of that conversation did you not understand?”
“Come on Damien, I miss you. I want another chance. I’m sorry. You know I love you. Please, let’s get together and talk.”
Damien smacked his hand against the steering wheel. “You have a problem understanding me. I do not want to see or speak to you at all! Capisci?”
“Please Damien, I made a mistake. How long are you going to hold it against me? Things snowballed, and I did things I shouldn’t have done. Please, give me—give us another chance.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? A mistake? You call banging some suit in your office, repeatedly, a mistake? You’re fucking delusional. It's been over for almost a year. It will stay that way. Hell, it had been over long before I threw your crap out of the condo. You screwed up Camilla! Now you can live with the fucking consequences!”
“Pleeease Damien, I’m sor–”
Damien disconnected the call. “Well, shit, shit, shit! What a fucking miserable day.”
Joe’s eyes bulged, and his jaw hung to his lap. “You didn’t tell me she cheated on you.”
“No, I didn’t,” Damien said with a little more venom than he intended. “I told no one except my Dad, and that was hard enough. She cheated several times and lied about all sorts of shit. I wanted her out of my life.” Damien glanced over at Joe. “I wanted no one, you included, telling me ‘I told you so.’”
Joe scowled. “Hey, I might have said she wasn’t the right girl for you, but I never would have rubbed it in your face. Especially if I had known, she cheated on you. As your Italian tongue would say, she’s a stupida cagna, and you deserve so much better.”
Damien ran his hand over his face. “Yeah, she is a stupid bitch. So, now you know.” He turned and stared out the window. He looked back at Joe, “Man, it never occurred to me she would do something like that. I gave her everything she wanted. Treated her like a damn queen. I loved her. Loved her more than I thought I could ever love a woman.” Damien had told no one about how he found out Camilla was cheating on him, with who, or what had happened that night in the hotel room.
Joe punched him on the shoulder. “Better it happened now rather than after you’d married her.” He grinned at Damien. “Next time save yourself the hassle and listen to what I say. You know I always watch out for you.”
He gave Joe an easy smile. “Yeah, next time I will.” The knot in Damien’s stomach tightened just a little more. Joe had proven himself a damn good friend and partner, and he deserved to know the whole truth.
Joe pulled out his notepad. “So, about this case, Astoria is a small community with roughly a couple thousand in population. Seems like nothing but farm country in that area. The stretch of Highway 24 where they discovered the girl has nothing but pastures surrounding it. No buildings, no houses, no nothing. I’m leaning towards dumpsite only.”
Damien took a swig of soda. He glanced at the can. Joe had gotten him hooked on this diet soda. Everyone at Central gave them hell for it too. “Since the CST’s will be back at the lab before we get to town, I say we go there first. We can hit the dumpsite later if we need to.”
Joe patted his stomach. “Sounds good. Now swing through someplace and let’s get some food.”
“You’re always hungry. Didn’t you eat breakfast like two hours ago?”
“Sure, key phrase—hours ago. I took an enormous dump at the house before you got there. Now I’m hungry again.”
“Seriously, dude why do you tell me these things? I don’t need to know about your bowel movements. You know you’re going to end up being a vacca grassa—fat cow—if you don’t watch it.” Damien chuckled as Joe gave him the finger.
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