Til We Meet Again

An Excerpt From: `TIL WE MEET AGAIN

Copyright © RACHEL CARRINGTON, 2010

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Chapter One

Out of all his years on the force, Quinn admitted to himself that this was the worst crime scene he´d encountered-and he´d encountered more than his fair share. Reaching out a hand, he brushed the hair away from the face, a beautiful face, which came as no surprise. Every victim was identical-young, beautiful, blonde females in their early to mid-twenties, but the killer didn´t have a specific MO, which made others think there might be more than one killer. Quinn thought differently. He didn´t doubt for one second the same killer was responsible for all of the deaths.

Tossing one more glance at the unfortunate girl´s mutilated body, Quinn moved toward the medical examiner. "Can you tell me anything I don´t already know by looking at her?"

Dr. Saunders, an aging man with a paunch and glasses that tipped on the edge of his nose, grimaced. "Yeah, she was tortured." He rocked back on his heels and shook his head. "But you´ll have my report in the morning." He paused. "You look like hell. When´s the last time you got some sleep?"

Quinn didn´t bother answering the question. If the truth were told, he hadn´t slept much in the past month since the killings had begun. And he´d bet his last month´s salary not too many single, blonde females were sleeping too well, either. The thought sent a shiver down his spine as one particular blonde came to mind.

Scrubbing the back of his neck with one hand, he rolled his shoulders forward to ease the tension in his muscles. Since the killing spree had begun, the mayor had taken a particular liking to Quinn´s ass, chewing on it daily. But it wasn´t the mayor who had put Quinn back on the streets, working this crime like he had the ones in the years past. This was his choice...his duty to the citizens of this town.

"Captain, there´s something you should see in here." A uniformed officer interrupted Quinn´s trip down memory lane, and he couldn´t decide whether to be grateful or irritated.

He followed the young officer into the bathroom just inside the victim´s apartment and immediately wished he hadn´t. "Shit." It was all he could say. It seemed to fit the occasion.

Bloody, torn fingernails and toenails littered the bathroom counter while chunks of the victim´s bloodied hair soaked in the toilet, showcasing a perverted mind. Quinn exhaled on a pungent curse. Spinning on his heel, he bolted from the bathroom, leaning against the wall outside to catch his breath. "This is one sick bastard."

"And you´re surprised?" Wade, the lead detective until Quinn had taken over, approached, offering a cigarette.

"No, thanks. Still trying to quit. Have you looked inside there?"

"Are you kidding me? Unfortunately, it was the first place I went after seeing the body. I had to go outside for some fresh air. The uniforms are canvassing along with Brick and Waters. I don´t think we´re going to pull in much information, though. Either no one´s seen anything or no one´s talking. Who can blame them? They´re all scared they´ll end up on this bastard´s hit list."

Taking a deep draw on the cigarette, Wade exhaled, tilting his head back to send a cloud of smoke spiraling toward the ceiling. "Jenny´s scared to death. We were just going to send the girls to their grandmother´s house in Maine, but now I´ve told her I want her to go as well. I want her as far away from this as possible."

Quinn pushed himself away from the wall and flicked a glance at Wade, his best friend since grade school. "That´s probably a good idea. Any takes on all of this?"

Wade´s glance slid toward where the victim still lay. "I´m clueless. He raped this one, which was a different scenario."

"Maybe he didn´t rape her."

"Did you see what I saw on that body?"

Quinn pushed away from the wall and scrubbed his hands over his face. "We´ll wait for the coroner´s report, but I don´t think he raped her. I think he wants it to look like he raped her. Once the news gets a hold of this, more women will run for cover, and he knows it. He likes the smell of fear."

He couldn´t shake the grisly scene from his mind or the images it brought with it. The young girl´s horrified screams as the killer held her, a knife pressed against her throat. Quinn surmised, from the girl´s torn fingernails, she´d put up a good fight. He shook his head and caught onto his partner´s words.

"Yeah, well, unfortunately, we´re all scared out of our wits. This guy has got us by the short and curlies, and he knows it. He´s calling all the shots."

"Not for long. I´ll find him." Quinn´s voice rang with self-confidence. He´d make finding this latest piece of scum top priority, and he wouldn´t stop even if it became the last case he closed in his twenty-year career.

"Hey, Cap, look at this."

Quinn moved away from his friend at the summons, though Wade followed him as they made their way back to the body of the young girl. Following Detective Ryan´s index finger, he inspected the three-inch long gash on the victim´s back.

"What the hell made that?" Wade leaned closer for a better view.

"Looks like he sawed her." The young detective shuddered.

"This wasn´t a saw. I´ve seen this before...one other time." Lifting his head, Quinn pinned his friend with a steely gaze. "Remember, we had a homicide about six years back? The guy killed two women, both under the age of twenty. Looks like the same weapon." He walked back toward the open front door and paused to look over his shoulder.

Wade´s brow furrowed as he tried to recall the case. "Oh yeah, the waitress from the steakhouse was his first victim. And then there was, oh hell, what was her name? Mayor Bertram´s daughter." He joined Quinn on the small concrete enclosure leading to the back apartment where the victim had lived.

"Helen."

"Yeah, that´s it." Wade whistled low between his teeth. "Both of them were killed with that ceremonial dagger that had been stolen from the museum in Asheville."

Quinn inclined his head toward where the girl still lay inside. "That wound looks identical."

"At least we know it´s not the same guy. The first killer died in prison two, three years ago, I think."

"Two." Quinn had been the first one to receive the call from the warden the day Henry Sparks´ throat had been slit. The only response Quinn had been able to provide was a sigh of relief.

"Think there´s a possibility this new killer knew Sparks?"

"Either that or we have a copycat. Call Buncombe County and see who Sparks bunked with, who his buddies were."

"Wasn´t the dagger returned to the museum?"

A sick feeling settled in the pit of Quinn´s stomach. "You better check that out too." His breath fogged in the chilly air. "This bastard wants us to get close to him. He´s getting tired of playing the game without a challenge. So now, he´s upped the stakes."

* * * * *

From a safe distance, a man smiled as he viewed the scene unfolding just around the corner. The police scurried around like fucking ants, afraid the queen would destroy them in her displeasure at their inefficiency. He chuckled. They were so good at their jobs and yet couldn´t catch one man.

They would never be able to catch him. He thought like they thought, worked like they worked, and he was too damn good. He lovingly patted the lock of blonde hair and shimmering, gold bracelet, appreciating the blonde´s taste in jewelry. He liked adding nice things to his collection.

* * * * *

"Here, thought you could use this." Wade placed a steaming cup of coffee on Quinn´s already cluttered desk and plopped his large frame in the only available chair.

Quinn wrapped a grateful hand around the cup and took a large swallow, wincing as the hot liquid burned its way down his throat. "Thanks. Did you find out anything else?"

"It was just as I suspected. No one knew anything about Sparks. His only roommate died of unknown causes within two weeks of his arrival. From there on in, Sparks had a room to himself. He was a loner. Warden said he didn´t hang round anyone in particular."

"What about the victim?"

"Marie Younger was an all-around American girl. Loved parties, pizza and guys. Hated prejudice, intolerance and cruelty to animals. She didn´t have an enemy in the world-at least none that she knew about."

Wade flipped open his notebook to refresh his memory. "She was a student at UNC, a senior, majoring in psychology. She had just broken up with her boyfriend a couple of days ago. He was mattress surfing with some other wave riders, if you get my drift, and Marie found out about it. He checks out clean, though, well, as clean as you can be when you´re an asshole. Marie was originally from Georgia. Her parents are on their way here to claim her body. I´ll talk to them when they arrive, but I doubt they´re going to know much more than what her roommates have already told me."

He scratched his head and studied his notes before continuing. "I talked to her father on the phone already. He was pretty shaken up, of course, but he was able to assure me that his daughter wasn´t into drugs, illegal activities, and she wasn´t promiscuous. Of course, what do parents know when their kids are away? My college days are one big blur."

Quinn rocked back in his chair, his fingers steepled. "We both know this wasn´t because of who she was, Wade. She could have screwed the entire football team at University of North Carolina and it wouldn´t have made a difference to this killer. This girl was killed because of what she was-a twenty-two-year-old blonde."

Wade fished out a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and inhaled deeply before responding. "Yeah, but once this hits the papers, the town´s going to panic. This girl wasn´t just killed like all the other ones. And with this guy picking off blondes, well, it´s not like we´re a major metropolis here. Pretty soon, he´s going to run out of targets. Then what? Is he going to change his tastes? That´s what´s got this town in an uproar already. The people want to know what the hell´s going on and I can´t say I blame them."

Quinn spun around, fixing his friend and partner with a glare. "I don´t blame them, either, but if I knew anything, I´d tell them. We haven´t said anything because we don´t know what the hell is going on other than innocent women are getting killed. I think the news has already reported that."

Wade held up his hands in a pacifying gesture. "Hey, you don´t need to tell me. I´m working on this crap, too, you know." Pushing himself to his feet, he took two more long drags on his cigarette before dropping the remainder into his now-cold coffee. "Look," a long stream of smoke accompanied the word, "I´m going to run home, take a shower, see the girls off, and then I´ll be back."

"You should catch some sleep first. You look like hell." Quinn noted with a dry smile.

"Yeah, well, you should try looking in a mirror, friend. You´re not going to win any Mr. America contests yourself," Wade returned before sauntering toward the door.

"I´m the boss. I get paid to look like hell." Quinn took another swig of the stout coffee.

"Then, you´re certainly earning your pay," came the caustic reply as Wade slammed the door behind him.

* * * * *

"Mrs. Johnson and her daughter are in examining room one." Kim, a registered nurse just barely out of college, greeted her employer at the door to the lounge. Pretty, blonde, and vivacious, the young woman had quickly garnered Dr. Gabi Reddick´s friendship and loyalty.

Gabi rubbed the back of her neck wearily, pasting a welcoming smile on her face in spite of her exhaustion. Twelve hours on her feet with only five hours sleep the night before was not conducive to a healthy lifestyle. "Thanks." She walked out of the waiting area toward the examining room. Stepping inside, she closed the door behind her as she greeted her next patient. "Now, Mrs. Johnson, what can I do for you today?"

The slightly overweight mother of four shoved her oldest daughter forward with a glare. "I think Kate is pregnant."

Gabi´s smile faded as she met her young patient´s gaze squarely. "Kate, could that be possible?"

The teenager´s lower lip trembled. "I´m not pregnant, Dr. Reddick, honestly."

"But you´ve been sleeping with the next-door-neighbor´s boy," Mrs. Johnson inserted in a harsh tone, making Gabi´s skin crawl.

"Mama, I-" Kate tried to defend herself.

"You just shut up. Dr. Reddick, I want a pregnancy test done on her right away, and if she´s pregnant, I want you to arrange for an abortion."

It was times like these when Gabi wished the clinic didn´t count on community funds to stay open, and she could say what she wanted to say. "Mrs. Johnson, I will be happy to perform a pregnancy test if that is your daughter´s wish. However, if Kate is pregnant, what she chooses to do from there is out of my hands. I´m afraid I can´t make an appointment for an abortion for your daughter without her consent as she´s eighteen."

"Don´t make no difference," the woman screeched. "She´s living under my roof, and as long as she is, she´ll abide my rules. Ain´t no child of mine going to tell me how things are going to be. My daughter will do as she´s told."

Kate lowered her gaze, clasping her shaking hands together in front of her slender frame. "I´m not pregnant, Mama, so none of this talk is necessary."

The examining room door flew open and Kim burst inside, her chocolate-brown eyes wide with fear. "Dr. Reddick, we have an emergency out here."

Gabi removed her latex gloves and hurried toward the door. "Kate, Kim will be back to draw some blood for a pregnancy test, that is, if that´s what you want." She gave her young patient time to refuse, but Kate remained silent. Gabi then directed her gaze back toward Mrs. Johnson. "We´ll give you a call as soon as we have the results. I´m sorry to rush out like this. Please excuse me."

A man dressed in slacks and a bloody dress shirt leaned against the doorframe of the county clinic, one arm wrapped around a slumped body. The other hand held his badge to identify himself. "You´ve got to help me. My partner´s been stabbed. He´s bleeding everywhere."

Adrenaline pumping, Gabi raced forward, the five years she´d spent as an emergency-room doctor rushing back. "Kim, get Dr. Ashton in here right away and call Blakewood General. Tell them we´ll have a trauma for them as soon as we get him stabilized. Sir, what´s your name?" She addressed the wounded man.

"His name is Jim. He´s only had his shield two months, but he´s good at it. This guy just caught him off guard. There´s blood everywhere. I couldn´t see where he´d been stabbed, but then I saw your clinic sign. Can you help him?"

"We´re going to do our best, Detective. Why don´t you have a seat?"

An older man with steel-gray hair approached from the hallway, a worried expression on his face. "Gabi, what do you have?"

"Stabbing. We need to stabilize him. Kim is already on the phone with Blakewood."

Snagging a nearby gurney, Dr. Ashton rolled it forward and somehow, between the two of them, with a little assistance from the shaking detective, they managed to get the injured man onto the stiff mattress.

"Blakewood is waiting for him." Kim slid her hands into latex gloves as she relayed the message.

"Good. Let´s get these clothes off him so we can see where we are." Dr. Ashton instructed.

"Kim, shut that door." Gabi barked the order, her stethoscope already pressed against the victim´s heart.

The examining room door snapped closed, leaving the detective alone in the waiting room with the plastic chairs and outdated magazines.

* * * * *

"I should have trusted my instincts on this one," Quinn berated himself, pressing the accelerator to the floor. "Jim wasn´t ready to take cases yet. I should have put him on desk duty or something, anything." He swerved to avoid a bicyclist and restrained himself from blaring the horn. "Get on the damn sidewalk."

"Quinn, Jim´s a detective. He wanted to be out on the street. That´s why he went after his shield to begin with." Wade pressed the button to lower the window.

"He´s too damn young."

Wade flicked a cigarette out into the late afternoon sunshine and nodded his agreement. "Or maybe we´re just too old." He brushed an ash off his tie.

Quinn drummed his fingers on the dashboard, a testament to his agitation. "Maybe, but I´m not going to sit idly by while my detectives get picked off one by one. The rookies are going back into training first thing tomorrow morning. Jim wasn´t prepared for this."

"Aw, hell, Quinn! I´ve been doing this for sixteen, seventeen years, and I don´t know if I would have been prepared for it. I´d like to think I would, but there´s that split second when fear can paralyze you."

"And in that second, you´re screwed."

"It happens to all of us."

Quinn didn´t acknowledge his friend´s anger. "It shouldn´t have happened to Jim."

Wade threw up his hands in defeat. "Sorry, I didn´t know you were his keeper."

"He´s my responsibility." Guilt settled around his neck like a heavy cross.

"According to you, the entire population of North Carolina is your responsibility. Give it a rest. We´ve been working on this case for weeks now. We´re all tired and cranky, and the last thing Sam needs is for you to go barging in this clinic making stupid declarations just because you feel responsible for Jim´s injury."

The words earned the detective a steely look. "Do you ever remember that I´m your boss?"

"Oh, I remember. I just don´t happen to give a shit."

The unmarked Chevy surged forward with a burst of speed while Quinn continued to mutter self-deprecating comments.

* * * * *

"Sam, how is he?" Quinn slapped the detective on the shoulder in a gesture of comfort.

"I don´t know, Boss. They won´t let me see him. They said they were going to move him as soon as they stabilized him, but no one´s come out yet." Sam´s voice broke as he relayed the information.

Seconds later, a petite woman wearing a blood-spattered white overcoat stepped out of the examining room. She tore off the jacket and tossed the garment into the biohazard bin, removing her plastic shields before approaching the three men.

A strange gurgle escaped Wade´s throat in time with the hiss of Quinn´s breath.

"Gabrielle? What in the hell are you doing here?" Staring into the face of his ex-wife, Quinn felt the blood rushing through his body, the same blood that had stagnated the day she´d left town.

Gabrielle met his gaze coolly. "I´ve been working with your detective."

"That doesn´t answer my fucking question. What are you doing back in town?"

"This is my hometown, too, Quinn."

A frustrated breath escaped his lips. "And you picked a helluva time to come back, with your hair color."

Her lips thinned. "I´ve been back for about three months. Now, Captain-" There was no mistaking the emphasis she placed on the word, as if she had every intention of keeping their relationship purely professional. "Your detective sustained numerous stab wounds to the chest and abdomen. Dr. Ashton and I did everything we could to stop the bleeding. Unfortunately, his injuries were just too severe. I´m sorry."

"Oh God." Sam´s knees buckled and he hit the floor. "He was too young! I should have been watching him better. This can´t be happening!" Dropping his head to his arms, he sobbed like a small boy in pain while his fisted hands pounded the cold tile.

"Wade, take him outside," Quinn´s instructed sharply. "I want to see him." He made the request a demand.

Gabrielle nodded, but her hesitation was evident in her next words. "We haven´t had time to clean him up."

He gritted his teeth. "You know how long I´ve been doing this job, Gabi."

"Then follow me." Her soft-soled shoes barely made a sound against the tiled floor as she led the way to the examining room. Pushing open the door, she motioned to Kim with her head. "We´ll give you some time. Kim-" She lowered her voice to a whisper which Quinn could still hear. "Call the coroner´s office."

"Dammit, Jim, why couldn´t you have been happy walking a beat? At least you would have still been alive." Lifting the sheet, Quinn inspected the body with the same methodical approach he gave to all his cases. And that´s what Jim Brock had become-a case, a homicide.