ODYSSEUS RISING
by
Doc Paul
The shadows of the corner
weren’t dark enough, not to stay hidden forever. He was coming. She could taste
the brassy taste in her mouth like rusty nails. It was the taste of fear and
blood. Looking all around trying to find a better hiding place her breath was
coming fast and hard. He was going to come for her, find her. Her heartbeat was
so loud that there was no way that he couldn’t hear it. He would find her, and
she would pay. She crouched behind a trash receptacle hoping for the impossible.
It was the shadow that she saw first. The sense of dread increased as she
realized that he was going to punish her harshly. With a tear sliding down her
cheek, she hoped that her mother would be okay without her.
~~~
Michael was working the late
shift at the CrashDown with Maria. He hated working with her. Since they broke
up they hardly talked at all. It was hard to find ways to apologize, even
though he and Isabel agreed that they would never make it together despite all
the mandates of a thousand worlds. Nothing could erase the feelings of being
brother and sister for ten years. They felt the pull of what was engineered
between them, but the attraction had changed into something deeper, more like
the familiarity of family.
Maria was cold and
unyielding. She accepted that his pursuing his alien side was necessary and
that understanding the past was important. Maria and Isabel remained friends,
but she had yet to forgive him. It wasn’t the Destiny that was the problem. It
was him leaving her before he had to. Leaving her because he was afraid, and
out of control. If he had loved her enough he would have fought to keep her in
his life like Max was fighting for Liz. It was the greatest betrayal, and the
one she couldn’t forgive. It was making it hard for them to communicate at all
with Maria being cold and Michael getting defensive.
He couldn’t help but react
when she pushed him hard at times. But it was the guilt, knowing that he was
responsible for hurting her deeply that made him push her back equally hard. If
he could find a way to apologize, he would. But perhaps that time was over, and
he just needed to face the fact that his relationship with Maria would never
mend.
“Have you even tried to
talk to her Michael?”
“Isabel, leave it alone.
We barely talk.”
“This is stupid. You
realize that right?”
“I realize that she is
cold towards me, and doesn’t plan to let me near again. I’m guilty for hurting
her, and we’re at a stalled position.”
“I want our friends back
Michael. I want us all back together the
way we were before this all happened.”
“It’s not gonna happen
between us, Isabel. We’ve lost so much ground. She is dating other guys and has
been all summer. Why should she trade a normal life to walk back into all this
mess, all this danger.”
“Because she loves you? Or
maybe you should let her, since you love her too. It would have never worked
between us with you loving her the way you do. Don’t you ever want to be
happy? You deserve to be happy too, Michael.”
“Isabel, I don’t think
it’s gonna happen.”
“I see you as a father
with lots of children. Tell me that you’ll ever feel this way about another
person like you do her? Tell me that you’ll ever find a way to let some other
in close enough as Maria, or that you even want to?”
“That’s not possible
Isabel. I’m alone. That’s the way it’s always been and the way it always will
be.”
“That’s just stupid. How
can you tell me that you don’t want more, don’t need more? I know better. Hell,
Michael you know better too.”
“Excuse me?” Both Michael
and Isabel looked up to see Maria standing in the door leading into the
kitchen. “Michael the trash is getting out of control. Think you could find the
time in your busy conversation to actually empty it?”
Michael bristled under the
censor in Maria’s voice. She noticed Maria slight smile at Isabel, as if to
tell her that her tone of voice was not meant for her, but was for Michael
alone. The merry war between them was heating up and spilling over into
everything they did. Michael did the only thing he could. He responded with
equal nastiness.
“If you want it empty,
Princess, I suggest you do it yourself. I’m busy.”
Maria looked at him hard
with cold dark eyes that he could feel cutting into him. Then the look changed
to almost regret, sorrow, and finally pain. Before he could react, the look
changed to that blank look she kept getting lately, and with a look that seemed
to pass through him as if he weren’t there, she turned and left.
“Maria, wait.” Michael
started after her, but she was already out the door.
“Why did you do that? You
know that she’s pissed at you so why do you add fuel to the fire, making it
worse and worse? Don’t you love her anymore?”
“Of course I still have
feelings for her, but they’re all confused, almost tangled up in this guilt I
carry around. I knew Isabel. I knew about her dad leaving and how insecure
she’s about being deserted by her own father. But I swear, I didn’t think about
any of that when I left her. I just didn’t want my usually fucked up life to destroy
hers.”
“Maybe you should go after
her?”
“No. It’ll just find a way
of being the wrong choice. My relationship with Maria has been a series of
wrong choices along the way. Maybe this is its own destiny. The destiny where I
don’t get the girl, we don’t live happily ever after, and we die alone and
miserable.”
“Tell me that you don’t
believe that?” Michael just shrugged his shoulders. It was looking really grim.
Isabel stayed an extra ten minutes talking. It was as she was leaving that Liz
came in the door.
“Have you guys seen
Maria?”
“She was here a few
minutes ago, Liz. She wanted Michael to take out the trash.”
“Yeah, I know. It was
getting pretty bad up front, and we would take it out, but the new cans are too
heavy to lug around. I really wish we would go back to the old ones.”
“Maybe Maria took the
trash out herself?” Michael could feel his usual guilt climbing thinking about
a very tiny Maria lugging a huge garbage can to the skip by herself. Wiping his
hands, Michael took off out the door to go see if Maria was in the alley
wrestling an oversized garbage can into the larger dumpster. Isabel and Liz
shrugged and followed him.
Out back in the alley,
Michael looked up and down, but Maria was nowhere to be seen. Almost going
inside and looking for her elsewhere, he noticed a large trash can on its side
by the larger garbage receptacle. Going back into the alley, Michael went over
to investigate. There was the offensive garbage can with its garbage spewed
along the alley. On the ground next to the dumpster was Maria’s CrashDown
antennae headband. Looking inside the skip itself, Michael tried to make sure
that Maria wasn’t inside. There on top of the garbage was one of Maria’s shoes
tossed inside. The sense of deep concern didn’t hit until while he was getting
down he noticed a silent Liz and Isabel staring at the side of the metal
dumpster. Bloodstains were gracing the side of the skip, and a trail of blood
moved off down the alley until it stopped.
Maria? Michael looked up
and down the alley, but she was nowhere to be seen.
~~~
Valenti watched the Feds
mark off the area with tape while more and more relief vehicles made it to the
scene. Over the last four months over seven young girls had been taken. Maria
was starting to look like number eight. This case was the Feds over two months
ago after the first dead girl was found. So far of the missing girls only three
had been found dead. The remaining girls were still missing, and now, Maria
DeLuca has joined their ranks. Jim knew he had no rights in the case, but this
was personal. He stood beside Amy DeLuca when they told her that Maria had been
taken, and that she was injured.
Valenti wasn’t sure whom
to worry about most, Amy or Michael? The rest of the group was equally torn,
but Michael was a large lump of silent guilt, sorrow and anger. He literally
hadn’t spoken a word since Maria was taken. Liz told him that Michael blamed
himself for fighting with Maria and refusing to go empty the trash. And it was
while she was emptying the trash that she was vulnerable to be snatched.
Looking at the silent suffering young man, he was powerless to help him find a
way out of the guilt. If Maria wasn’t returned to them unharmed and alive,
there would never be any release, not for Michael
“Sheriff Valenti?” Jim
looked up to see a young woman dressed in a dark suit and standard FBI
overcoat.
“Yes? May I help you?” The
woman came forward and placed her briefcase on the edge of his desk extending
her hand.
“I’m Special Agent Cordy
Powers.” Jim stood and shook the Agent’s hand firmly. He indicated for her to
take a seat as he retook his. “I understand that not only do you know the last
victim personally, but you would like to be included on the case?” She paused
looking the Sheriff over. This wasn’t dead meat law officer material here. He
looked to be on top of the game, and not just a rustic yokel. “It’s not the
policy of the FBI’s special crime units to include local constables or to even
keep them really informed.”
“Special Agent, I…”
“But, in your case I’ll
make a special amendment to that policy.” Valenti paused in suspicion over her
willingness to include him. He had been ready for a fight.
“Excuse me?”
“I understand that you
have a special relationship with this girl and her family? I also noticed that
the last four girls were taken in this general area, your area. I may need you
more than you think. My task force are strangers here, so as long as your
people follow directions, hold back when asked; we might find a way to share the
work.”
“I would appreciate that,
Special Agent…”
“Cordy. It’s just Cordy,
or Powers if you prefer.”
“Cordy?”
“Yes, short for Cordelia.”
She sat in the seat across from the desk and looked him over. The strain was
showing around the edges. He lost five girls in his district alone, and the FBI
original task force finally pulled out to call in the special unit that
specialized in serial crimes. Two of the recovered dead girls of the three were
from this area, so technically he was only missing three girls now. The other
three were from the county to the west.
“We’ll set up in the room
that was just vacated by the last team. I know they kept you out of the loop,
but in truth they were making no real headway. We have a definite loss of
information, no eyewitnesses, and so far, no connection has been made between
the girls. What my task force will do is re-examine the information, the crime
scenes, re-interview all parties concerned, and try to profile the killer. We
need to understand what he sees when he targets these young girls, and
Sheriff?” She paused to look at her watch. “We’ve less than two weeks to do
this before the next girl is taken.”
“I understand. He is very
consistent on taking them every two weeks. Any reason why?”
“As of yet? No.” She moved
forward and took off her overcoat laying it across her lap. Placing a recorder
on the table in front of her, see looked at him with dark silent eyes. “Tell me
about Maria DeLuca.”
~~~
“Michael?” She called his
name from the doorway of the darkened room. He was sitting on the edge of the
bed holding a napkin holder that he had made her months ago. He came every
night to sit there for hours, until the morning, and then he would leave to
continue his search. Amy moved forward into Maria’s empty room. When Maria
left, all the life left with her.
“Michael?” Amy kneeled
down to see him, but he kept his head down looking at the napkin holder,
holding it firmly in his hands. He could feel the smoothness of the woods grain
that he had sanded not once, but three times to get a smooth soft finish that
wouldn’t splinter her hands. Her hands. Michael’s body lost control of a long
deep sob.
Sitting on the bed next to
him, Amy took the holder away and set it on the bedside table. Pulling his head
to her breast, she held him. At first he remained stiff and unyielding, but
suddenly as if the very weight of the world was pulling him down, he collapsed
and rested against Amy. She was shocked at the deep wracking sobs being pulled
from his body as he cried against her. It was more than sorrow; it was anguish
and unrelenting pain. Holding him close she moved to sit on Maria’s bed against
the headboard and let him cry.
Jim stood in the doorway
watching for a while. Amy was holding Michael and gently running her hand
through his hair and rubbing his back. He had not spoken a word since Maria was
taken and his physical condition was deteriorating fast. As far as Jim could
tell, the young man has neither eaten nor slept since Maria’s abduction. After
the violent storm of weeping stopped, Amy felt him finally succumb to sleep.
Looking up finally at Jim, she slowly moved out from Michael and laid him on
the bed, covering him up. Leaving the room in a muted darkness with only a soft
light on that she left lit every night to guide Maria home, Amy shut the door
and prayed that he could finally find one night of blissful rest and peace.
“How long has that been
going on?”
“He's coming over here?”
Jim nodded his head. “Since she was taken. This is the first time I ever went
into the room. He always seemed to need to be here, but to be alone.”
“They were…close.”
“I know. It worried me
that all of it was on Maria’s part, but after they broke up she was really,
really miserable.” Amy rubbed a hand over her hair and could feel the weight of
the pain pulling her down. “I wanted him to be sorry, to feel pain over losing
her, but I never meant it to be this way, not like this.”
“He needs rest. I’m
starting to think that I may have to arrest him to keep him off the streets.”
“I don’t understand? He’s
here most nights.”
“It’s not the nights. It’s
the days. He is slowly and systematically breaking into every house in
“Maybe you should let him
work with you, with the FBI. It may be a way of getting him to speak again.”
“I know. I’m worried about
that too. Look, I’m going to speak to Stan Walker. Do you remember him?”
“Didn’t he go to school
with you or something? I thought he moved to
“He did. Stan went to
school to become a psychologist. His wife died in a car accident about four
years ago, and I thought his daughter died too, but she survived the car
accident and that’s why they moved back to
Amy looked at Jim in
wonder. She never realized how concerned Jim was about Michael, how close he
seemed to the young man. This was different and very unusual. The police
sheriff rarely found a friendship with one of the most notorious bad boys in a
town, and Michael reputation was very notorious.
“You really care about
him, don’t you?”
“Yes, he’s a good kid. His
reputation is more undeserved than you could imagine. He has a real thinking
heart, and sort of an abused one. It’s never been easy for him being raised by
Hank, and not having a real sense of family.” Jim didn’t know how much to
reveal, what would be too much, or too little. “His bond with Maria is very
real Amy. I can feel it when I’m around them. He shuts her out because he
doesn’t feel that he’s good enough for her, that he can ever belong. But I have
never seen one person need another as much as he needs her.”
“Thank you Jim. That just
hits my parenting nightmare. How am I suppose to keep the two of them apart,
and I mean apart, if everything inside them is pulling them together? What
you’re saying is that even though they’re broken up, it’s just a matter of time
before they get back together. And then what Jim?”
Jim looked away deciding
that maybe he did say just a little too much. “Then they date, they do things
together, whatever young people do together now days.”
He winced a little when he
heard Amy swearing under her breath. The best thing was the fact that Amy was
talking about Maria like she was still with them, like there was no question
that they would get her back. The day Amy DeLuca gave up hope was the day they
buried Maria, and not a moment sooner. Amy DeLuca didn’t know how to yield.
“I’ll talk to Dr. Walker
about this.”
~~~
Looking up from the file
he was reading, the doctor watched the young man. He thought Max Evans was a
closed book with his sister coming in a near second, but he scrapped those
thoughts the moment he met Michael
Getting up, Stan walked
over to a closet and pulled out an easel with a pad of paper, a palate, and
acrylic paints with brushes, rags and cleaner. Setting the stuff up in a corner
by the window he walked back over to the young man watching him again. Holding out a pencil, he offered it to
Michael. This was the third session and his last real hope to reach him. He
barely noticed the moment that Michael’s gaze focused on the pencil, but once
it did, it was if his entire attention was caught there. Taking the instrument
he stood and walked over to the easel and began to draw.
Stan retook his seat and
sat watching his patient draw nonstop for half an hour with his hands folded
together in thought. Getting up he went outside to see his secretary and have
her cancel his appointments for the rest of the day. Going back into his
office, he settled down to watch an amazing picture of Maria DeLuca come alive,
even more alive than the photo he held in his hands.
Stan continued to read all
the background information he had on Michael
Stan looked up when
suddenly Michael gave a deep sigh and put down his paintbrush. There were tear
trails on his cheeks. Without even looking back or saying a word, he left the
office. Amy DeLuca who had waited all that time, left and came back time and
time again, entered the office after Michael had left. She found the doctor
standing over by the window staring at a picture deep in thought.
“Doctor?” Stan looked up
to see the young woman who looked far too young to have a seventeen-year-old
daughter. He could see the worry in her eyes; the grayness of her skin and
inside he felt a tinge of compassion and sorrow for her pain.
“Ms. DeLuca? I’m so sorry.
Have you been waiting all this while?”
“Yes. I actually came and
went a few times.” Slowly moving into the office she moved towards him and the
painting. “Michael, did he speak to you, talk?”
“No. He just painted.” Amy
moved to stand beside the doctor and look at the painting. Her gasp drew the
doctor’s attention from the painting back to her. He watched as sadness and
pain ran across her features. Looking at the picture again he took in the sheer
beauty of Maria. She looked like an angel.
“He loves her.”
“Yes.” Stan paused. “But
it’s more than that. She is his deliverance from pain. She illuminates him. The
only light he ever had in his life.”
~~~
When Amy got home she
silently walked to Maria’s room, like she did everyday. Sometimes she was
hoping that it was all a nightmare and that she would find her wacky daughter
painting her nails with glitter polish, or reading the instructions on the back
of a bottle of hair dye. Maria wanted to put pink highlights in her hair, but
kept holding back. Amy had predicted another week of hold out before the
impulse was too great and she just did it. Entering the room, she found him
asleep on her bed again holding one of her favorite sweaters next to him. She
could see the tear stains on his cheek. It was a
She prayed to God that he
would see to it in all his glory to return her child home safe so she could
begin that age old battle of keeping her daughter from leaving home too young.
But what they seemed to feel for each other was so much more than anything she
could understand, but there it was sleeping in her daughter’s bed hugging a
six-year-old sweater. The love of her daughter’s life, and he wasn’t going to
go away. Reaching down, she brushed the hair away from his face, noticed the
beautiful sweep of long lashes on his cheeks that were covered with a slight
stubble, but it was the mouth that drew her attention. Her grandchildren were
going to have those lips, those lashes, those warm brown eyes, and those
beautiful hands.
Kissing his cheek, she
covered him with the blanket and closed the door. She never noticed the figure
in the shadows watching them, watching him.
~~~
It was the light that
penetrated first. The blinding pain that split her head apart until she
couldn’t stand the noise. Who the hell was making all that racket, all that
crying? Stop, just stop, you’re hurting my head. It took moments for her to
realize that the crying was coming from her, that she was the creator of the
noise. Slowly opening her eyes she saw the monitors first with the beeping
sounds echoing her heartbeat.
She couldn’t move her head
because it hurt too much, and her stomach felt nauseated, with a reflexive
gesturing of dry heaves. The noise from the corner drew her eyes. There was a
figure sitting in the dark corner, watching her, and reading by the dim light.
She tried to talk, to ask him who and what was, where, but all that came out
was a cry. He quickly moved to her side.
“Shush, it’s okay. I’m
here. I’m here.” She tried to focus on his soothing voice and focus on his
face.
“Where…”
“Shush, its okay my angel,
you’re safe here.”
“What…”
“You had an accident,
sweetie, that’s all. But you’re recovering nicely. I haven’t left your side,
and if you keep getting better I can take you home.” His hands stroked her hair
and face, and she watched as his face came closer. He gently kissed her
forehead while his hand reached towards her hands. She tried to move her arms,
but they wouldn’t move. She was tied down.
“Don’t struggle, angel.
I’ll remove the bindings. They were just there to keep you from tearing out
your IV while your fever was so high. You have a severe concussion. I was so
worried about you. You’re all I have left in this world.”
“Who are you?” Her head
hurt so much, but the voice was gentle and soothing. “Daddy?”
“Yes, baby, its daddy.
Everything’s going to be okay now.”
~~~
Agent Powers looked at the
board one more time praying for any insight that would make a motivation come
clear. They knew the killer, knew his pattern, but they didn’t know his
motivation. In thirty-six hours it would be two weeks since Maria DeLuca was
taken, and it would be time for another girl to be snatched. All the dossiers
and victim profiles graced a large wall, and in all the information there was
still a missing link that made these girls targets. They were missing the
association, the common thread that would unravel the mystery and make the
serial killer known. But the dead remained silent and the missing gagged.
“Cordy?” She looked up to
see the Sheriff handing her yet another cup of coffee. The entire office knew
they were fast running out of time. Looking past the Sheriff, she saw him,
Michael
“It’s been two weeks. Has
he even uttered a word yet?” Jim followed her gaze to rest on Michael. He
didn’t know what made him bring Michael with him, but for some reason he was
afraid of Michael’s reaction when another girl was taken. He wanted to keep him
near, just in case. Michael was intently examining the pictures, but when he
came to Maria’s he sat down and looked at her unwavering.
“No. Taking him to the
psychologist doesn’t seem to be helping either. Michael doesn’t react well to
drugs. The doctor gave him a mild sedative to help him sleep and Amy could
hardly wake him. He was awake, but even more complacent than before, and was
malleable. You could have told him to walk off a bridge and he would have. It
was scary.”
“I don’t think you should
worry about his not talking. He will when he has something to say.”
“What do you mean?” Cordy looked at the tortured young man
staring at his missing girlfriend’s picture. The two weeks of missing her only
made it more obvious to him how wrong he was in believing he could have ever
lived his life without her. He had fooled himself into thinking that he could,
but it was obvious that he was wrong. Living two weeks without her was slowly
killing him, but imagining a lifetime with her gone and dead was too much to
handle.
“What’s the last thing he
said to her?”
“He told her to take out
the trash herself. They were fighting.”
“Right. He opened his big
mouth, cut her down, and then sent her outside to be taken. The last thing he
remembers is the look on her face, the anger, the sadness, and then the
blankness of a love affair gone wrong.” Cordy stopped to scowl at her coffee.
This crap was burning a hole in her stomach lining. “He won’t open his mouth
again until he has something to say or until he can find her and apologize.”
“What if we don’t find
her?”
“We will. I always bring
them home, but I’m just worried that it will be too late for him to say all the
things he needs to say to her, that she’ll no longer be able to listen.”
“What then? What happens
to the survivors? What happens to him?”
“To the survivors? They
bury their dead and pray for the monster to be caught, but they never forget.
But for him, personally?” Cordy stood and dumped her coffee and reached into
her pocket to plug the soda machine with change. If her stomach was going to be
destroyed by caffeine, it might as well be something nice and cold that tasted
better than Roswell PD coffee. “He dies.”
“You seem very cold and
sure about this.”
“Yes. Michael’s not the
type to take his life willfully, but he’ll place himself in dangerous
situations, he’ll tempt fate, and he’ll slowly starve himself to death, because
all that will be left will be the dream of her. That is all he’ll have left,
and that is what he’ll hold onto till the end. She’ll be the face of the angel
that leads him out of the darkness. Death will be the release, a sort of
salvation.” Cordy missed Michael’s startled look as he turned to look at her.
“So you’re saying he’ll
kill himself in some shape or form?”
“Yes, but not right away.
He’ll hold on until he finds her killer, until he brings the monster to
justice. Once the man who did this is found and taken, then he’ll feel
vindicated. He’ll want to look the monster in the face, try to make sense out
of the nonsensical. Once that is done all that will be left will be the endless
void, the empty abyss. That is when he’ll slowly succumb to death.”
“You seem to know this too
well.” Cordy finished her diet coke and crushed the can tossing it into the
recycle bin.
“Yes, I do, all too well.
I recognize the type. He’s like my father all over again. My father was one of
the best violent crime profilers in the history of the FBI. He was the best.
When my father found the murdering bastard that killed my mother, he went to
sleep and never woke up again. It took him almost three months of starvation
and emptiness before he was released. The last word he said before dying wasn’t
that he was sorry for taking away my last living parent, but rather my mother’s
name. Her face was the only thing he saw, the only thing he ever could see.”
She picked up her file and walked out of the room.
~~~
“Daddy, when am I going
home?”
“Soon, honey, real soon.
You get stronger and stronger every day.”
“I had a dream last
night.” The man moved closer and sat his chair next to the bed.
“What was the dream
about?”
“I can barely remember,
but it was about a warrior spirit that walked the earth alone. He left all
those behind to go to battle and one day the battle was over, and he wanted to
find home again. So he journeyed back and along the way he met many challenges.
All he wanted was to find that one place to call home.”
“Odysseus,
that is the story of Odysseus. His journey home was covered in many
voyages and adventures. The imagery of the female form was prominent in the
story. Some were temptresses, some where mother figures, but the most important
figure was the last one.”
“Who was that?”
“His wife, he went through
all that to get home to his wife.”
“I remember. He was
valiant, but sad.”
“Yes. He was sad. His life
had been nothing but abuse and neglect, and he was angry and confused. All he
wanted was to find home, find his father, and find his wife.” He stood up and
gathered the medicine in a syringe and using a special port, he administered it
into the IV line.
“Poor warrior. I wish he
could have you for a father, then his sadness would melt away.”
“My angel, you’re the
vision that would set a thousand ships assailing, if you were the prize at the
end of the journey. Now you must rest, the time is short and I want to take you
home soon.” He watched her eyes closed as the medicine in the IV finally took
hold. She was on the mend and soon he could take her from this place. He must
remember to bring the story of the warrior to read to her. She was right. The
young man would make a fine son.
~~~
She balled herself up as
small as possible to avoid the lashes. He was through with her, dumping her.
The cries of a wounded animal after so long in captivity, her legs were almost
too weak to hold her. She ran and hid, but he still found her. The wounds of
her face bleed and bleed. She was never going to see her mother again. The last
thing she saw was the leather strap that was used to beat her, and his cruel
angry face.
~~~
Time was drawing to a
close. By tomorrow they would have a new name for the wall, a new set of
interviews, and a new set of victims waiting for news and trying to hold onto
hope. The room was silent, but they all refused to leave. Waiting for the phone
to ring was the hardest thing. Cordy searched the wall, but it was giving up no
secrets. She looked down to where Michael sat drawing in a sketchbook, endless
pictures of Maria DeLuca. The talent was incredible and his insight was
steadfast.
“Sir?” Cordy and the rest
looked up as the deputy walked in. “We have a body.”
~~~
The air was crisp and
biting. The relief teams had to create their own roads into the woods. The body
was covered and outlines and police tape was marking off the general area. Her
team was fast walking the transits before the scene was disturbed, but there
was little to find. The girl had been dumped here, not the kill site, and the
killer left no trophies or clues. The body was laid out much like the others
with head bowed and hand folded in prayer. Praying didn’t help this poor child;
she had been beaten to death, the bones in her face broken to bits.
“What says you Smitty?
Call under twelve.” The FBI forensic pathologist looked up at Cordy.
“Yeah, more likely under
eight hours dead. She’s only been out here for the last few hours, but
definitely not killed here.”
“Not enough blood?”
“That and no physical
signs of a struggle, or the beating here. All we have is the deposit, and not
even a good set of prints. Look at her hands and feet.”
Cordy bent down to examine
the folded hands and the bare feet. The hands had defensive bruises where it
looked like she had tried to protect her head from the lashes, but the feet
were clean but had been scrapped.
“The scraping on the feet?
It looks like road rash.”
“Close, very close, but I
would say she was running barefooted across cement floors or something, her
feet scrambling backwards. Look at the hands again and the patterning on the
feet.”
Cordy looked closer to see
what Smitty meant. There it was, the same scrapes were on the palm on the hands
as the back heel and sides of the feet. The girl had been on the floor
scrambling backwards away from her assailant, trying to scurry away from him.
“Poor kid. She never had a
chance did she?”
“No. But whoever he is?”
Cordy looked up at Smitty from where she was knelt by the body. “He took real
good care of her before this. She was well fed, nail polish on both hands and
feet, and the clothes are nice. She was cherished before she found herself on
his hit list. The question becomes, what made her go from being a cherished
object to an object that needed punishment?”
“Punishment?” Cordy looked
down at the girl as she slowly rose.
Yes, the final layout of
the body was the look of repentance and forgiveness. He punishes them when
they’re not able to be what he wants, what he is looking for. What was he
looking for? His motive still eluded them, and there were still four girls out
there missing, depending on her to unravel the clues and bring them home alive.
Time to take this body home.
Cordy walked away after
checking in with the rest of the team and as she slowly climbed the hill back
to her car all she could think about was one very quiet young man whose hunt
may be over today, and his final downfall could just be beginning. They
wouldn’t know until prints and identification was ran whether this was Maria
DeLuca or one of the other four missing girls, but either way, some family was
getting back their love one tonight, and it would be hard either way.
~~~
They were waiting at the
morgue when the body was brought in. All the families were waiting to see if it
was their love one, returned. Cordy noticed the way that the Sheriff held Amy
DeLuca protectively against his side. Michael was up against the wall with his
head down staring at the floor and both the Sheriff and Amy were positioned in
front of him almost as if they were trying to protect him, take the blows
first. She recognized the other small group of friends that she had questioned
about Maria.
The Parker girl looked
like one big wind would blow her over, and the young man,
“The time isn’t right for
these people to see the body Jim. The forensic team needs to take care of her
first, do their job. I’ll call all of you when it is possible, but it is best
if you wait for the call. We will do the identification and call the family.”
Looking around at the
different groups of scared friends and family she knew what she was asking was
impossible, but it would serve no purpose to have all of them view a body that
belonged to only one family. The dead deserved some dignity, some respect. She
deserved to be alive, but since that was stolen, Cordy’s only option was to
find her justice.
“Please. Let us do this
for her. Let us take care of her.”
The families slowly
wandered off to find telephones to wait by. She suspected who the victim was,
but until they could confirm it, she couldn’t release the name. The beating had
stripped the face of flesh, and the taken girls looked enough alike to make the
identification not completely possible from just a viewing. It would take a
very keen eye to really tell the minute differences. Suddenly Michael moved
away from the wall, and before Jim, Cordy, or anyone could stop him he went
into the room and pulled back the sheet.
“Michael, no.” She watched
as he looked hard at the girl and sudden he backed up against the wall and
placed his hand out to brace himself as he kneeled on one knee. His whole body
shook and he placed one hand on his stomach in pain. The sounds coming from him
were not human. They were the sounds of an animal in agonizing pain. He was
breathing hard and tears clouded his vision.
“Michael.” Cordy grabbed
his head and forced him to meet her eyes. “Is it Maria?”
He shook his head no and
she gathered him closer. Looking up she saw Jim waiting; slowly she rose and
handed Michael over to Jim and his friends and family. Turning to look at the
body, it was hard to say conclusively that it wasn’t Maria DeLuca, but she
trusted his instincts. Covering the body to give the dead some privacy she left
the room. Where was the newly taken girl? Why hadn’t they had a report of a new
kidnapping?
~~~
Amy and Jim tried to get
Michael to eat, but he just stared at the food. Max and Isabel had both tried
to talk to him, but he seemed lost somewhere else, and even Liz had tried. But
she made things worse. It seemed that looking at her reminded Michael too much
about how he hadn’t taken the garbage out for Maria, and Liz made the guilt
worse. The only people he seemed to respond to were Amy and Jim, and a little
to Agent Powers. Doctor Walker agreed with Cordy. That Michael would speak when
he found a need to and he would not survive the loss of Maria.
He got up and went into
Maria’s room leaving the food untouched on the table. Jim sat with Amy in
silence. There was nothing to say. They knew that another family would be
getting a call tonight, and maybe even yet another family would also receive a
call to let them know that they were joining a nightmare because their child
was stolen. It was the angry sound of outrage and a bellowing Michael that made
them rush to Maria’s room. Michael was standing in the center of the room
turning around and around, not touching anything, but looking everywhere.
“What is it Michael? What
is wrong?”
“He was here.” Both Amy
and Jim stared in shock because Michael had finally spoken. “The bastard was
here. He took her stuff.”
Amy looked around the
room, turning slowly like Michael had. He was right. Things were gone. Her wall
dressings, some pictures, the napkin holder, jewelry and other things. Going to
the closet she opened it to find clothes missing, boxes of pictures and things.
Her room had been systematically stripped of pieces of her personality. Jim saw
the outrage and horror on Amy’s face. He took out his phone and made the call.
~~~
“How much is missing Jim?”
“You have to ask Michael
and Amy. Michael was the first to notice.”
Jim watched the sweepers
dusting the room and recording the scene. They were busy taking Michael’s
fingerprints and Amy’s so they could eliminate them from others in the room.
“Cordy, he talked.” She
looked back and acknowledged the significance of Michael talking. He finally
had something to say.
“Michael.” She took the
chair next to him. Taking some food and a can of soda, she placed them in front
of him. “Don’t make me get rough. Eat.” She watched as he reluctantly picked up
the cheeseburger and took a bite. Finally he reached in his back pocket and
took out a small bottle of
“What is missing and when
did you notice?”
“Everything is missing.
Her favorite brushes and mirror, her special clips and hair fasteners, the
holder I made her, her clothes and shoes, her favorite sleeping shirt,
pictures, jewelry, rings, and so much more. I noticed immediately since her
sweater I left on the bed was missing, and her favorite pillow that she hugs
when she sleeps, her bunny eared slippers, and a picture of me.”
“Okay. This is different.
He’s never done this before. He didn’t take a new girl either. He just broke
pattern and serial killers don’t do that. I need to think this through.”
Looking at the young man, she turned thoughtful. “Michael tell me what you
know, what you see. You looked at the pictures long enough and you have an eye
for detail. Tell me what you think.”
Michael hesitated and then
started talking slowly and in a low tone. “He doesn’t hurt them until he kills
them. They were well fed and their clothes were nice brands. They were
trophies, something he valued and wanted to keep, but the ones that he killed
lost their importance, so he threw them away.”
“Yes. He is a white male
between the ages of forty-five and fifty. He is a professional within his
field, commands money and respect, and he’ll be the last person anyone expects
to be involved. The girls must be held somewhere, somewhere that he can take
care of them, and no one will hear them if they scream. He fits in enough that
he was able to observe the girls, learn their routine, and learn to covet them.
But why did he break pattern?”
“Maybe he found what he
was looking for, and didn’t need to search any further?” She turned to look at
Michael with speculation in her eyes.
“Tell me.”
Michael looked down at his
hands. “I’ve looked to find my past, my home all my life. I always knew that I
would leave
“Maria. He found Maria,
and she has completed his search, so now he no longer needs new ones or even
old ones, all he needs is Maria. He took all her stuff because he is building
her a room and home elsewhere.”
Cordy paced the floor
thinking about all the ramifications. Michael was right. No new girl and a
dumping of an old girl suggested that he was cleaning house. He found what he
was looking for and there would be no new girls, no new clues, and no more
time. As long as Maria continued to be what he was looking for, she was safe.
But the remaining other three girls were unnecessary, and the moment Maria
became the trophy, they failed. He would punish them for not being what he
wanted, and he would dump their bodies.
“Damn, the time is shorter
than we know. Unless he finds a new project or something to distract him from
the girls, he’ll dump them fast. I need the motive, the original motive and the
reason the original three dead girls were punished, banished. The ones that
come after will not be part of the pattern. If I can know why, then I’ll be
closer to knowing who.”
Cordy took her phone and
assembled her team. Time to look the old evidence over again, and again. There
was no time left. Her gut was telling her that the killer was getting ready to
take Maria and disappear forever, but not until he disposed of the remaining
three girls. No time.
~~~
Michael finally went home
to his apartment. Amy had protested that he shouldn’t be alone, but in truth,
now that all her stuff was missing from her room, it only felt like a room. She
was really gone. Entering his apartment he looked around. Every inch of wall
was covered in pictures he drew of her, and sometimes he drew them on the wall.
Moving into the bathroom, he stripped and took a shower, but no amount of hot
water could warm his body.
He couldn’t ever remember
ever feeling this cold, and this alone. Later he laid on his sofa looking out
the window at the stars and thinking of the world that was so far away, and
his. It didn’t matter anymore, none of it did. Go home, stay, or die. None of
it mattered without Maria. He had been a fool thinking he could protect himself
from her by staying behind a protective stonewall. He was an idiot not to
realize that he had taken her into himself, into his heart so that when he
built the wall she was with him inside and not on the outside. It was what she
had been trying to tell him all alone, but he wasn’t listening.
He fell asleep on the
sofa, so lost and exhausted that he never heard the door open to his apartment.
He never heard the footsteps as they moved through his rooms looking at the
paintings on the walls, the drawings, or as the footsteps stopped next to him
and stood watching him sleep. He never registered the intrusion until the sharp
biting prick from the needle entering his skin. Startled awake, he was
disoriented, and the drug was already starting to make a difference. His limbs
were already feeling heavy, and his brain was fogging from the drug. He looked
up into the killer’s eyes and he knew him. All Michael could think of before
the white cloud covered his mind was Maria.
~~~
It had been over
thirty-six hours since the last body was found, and her crew worked nonstop.
They couldn’t find the slim connection that would join all the girls together.
Each girl was different in personality, looked similar in structure, but
nothing else. They had different tastes and likes, different social circles,
none of them matched another, and the girls were different. There had to be a
pattern, and pattern and reason that made sense to the killer. Why?
Sheriff paused at the door
watching Cordy work. She had never left
“Cordy?” She looked up.
“Sheriff? What is it Jim?”
“Amy called. She hasn’t
seen Michael since he left the other night. He hasn’t been to school or come by
and she is concerned.”
“Michael is missing? Did
you check his apartment?”
“Yes, the deputy said the
door was unlocked and the place was a mess, but in truth with everything going
on, that hardly means anything. The boy has hardly left the DeLuca house in two
weeks.”
“He wouldn’t run away or
take off, not as long as she is missing. If he discovered something, he would
have told us because it’s not just Maria’s life, but the other girls as well.”
Cordy looked at the wall of shame and thought for two seconds. “Let’s go look
at his place. Are your people still there?”
“No. Hanson came right
back after he looked in and saw Michael wasn’t there. I checked with all the
places he would or could have gone. Nothing. No one has seen or heard from him
in almost thirty hours.”
“Let take a look and see
what we can see, okay?”
They entered the apartment
with caution. The front door lock showed signs of being jimmied with scratches
along the doorpost. Cordy looked up at Jim knowing that he was seeing what she
was. They slowly entered the apartment. It was dark and gloomy, putting a
handkerchief over her hand she turned on the light. She couldn’t stop her
grasp. Every imaginable inch of wall space and surface was covered with
pictures he drew or painted of Maria. She looked almost surreal and angelic in
the painting. It was as if he had been driven to work on the pictures, to find
a way to have her near, to keep her close.
The deputy was right. The
place was a mess, but the mess wasn’t just neglect and poor housekeeping. There
were signs of a struggle, not a very strong struggle, but one nonetheless. She
went to the sofa and noticed the blanket used to cover him while he slept.
Crouching down beside the sofa she noticed the tail end of something under the
sofa. Reaching into her pocket she pulled out a pair of latex gloves and
without really looking behind her, she handed out a pair to Valenti. They were
standing in the center of a crime scene. Pulling the object from out from under
the sofa, she held a syringe by her fingertips. Remembering Valenti telling her
that Michael was allergic to drugs and alcohol she knew that this wasn’t a left
over syringe from a user. Taking a bag from her other pocket she bagged the
evidence.
Jim looked around the room
in dismay. He knew that Michael was missing Maria, but it seemed more than
that. All the pictures talked of an obsession of sorts and he was afraid to
ignore the implication. Michael was the one among the alien children that was
given to visions, visions that drove him.
Jim didn’t know how to
clue Cordy in on the fact that Michael might be drawing Maria over and over
again because he kept seeing her in visions, and that this wasn’t just an
obsession. That was when he saw it. Blood. It stained the corner of the coffee
table. While Cordy’s head was turned and before she noticed, Valenti took out
his handkerchief and wiped the blood from the table and quickly pocketed the
rag before she noticed. How was he going to tell Amy and the others that it
looked like Michael had been taken too?
“I need to call the
sweepers and let them test the place for prints and things. Do you know whose
prints might be in here?”
“Yes.” Valenti looked
around the room trying to think of someway to cover the area of the table with
anything that would mask the blood residue. Michael’s alien blood would be hard
to explain away. Seeing a half empty can of soda on the table, Valenti stood in
front of Cordy’s line of sight and slowly moved the can to the spot where the
blood had been. Conveniently stepping back when Cordy stood up with her phone
in hand, he purposely knocked over the can making sure it covered the once
blood stain.
“Damn. Sorry about that,
I’m worse than my deputy Hanson.” Jim could feel the color rising on his throat
and cheeks. He was fast moving into dangerous grounds here. Covering for the
aliens was making him contaminate crime scenes, and hide evidence. He hoped
this wouldn’t lead to the loss of both Maria and Michael.
“Don’t worry about it Jim.
I jostled you. Save the can and some of the liquid. I know he was drugged from
the syringe, but just in case, we need to test that soda.”
Cordy looked around the
room seeing more than others would be able to. She had gotten to know the young
man, so this felt personal. The killer had changed his profile, yet again. This
was unheard of.
“Jim, let’s not mention
this to anyone until we get a clear picture of what is happening. Let them
think that we think that Michael took off to look for Maria on his own or to
clear his head. I would suggest saying that he is out there searching for her,
and will not come home until he finds her. Agreed?”
“Yes. You don’t want the
killer to know that we suspect that Michael was taken. Why?”
“He broke pattern, twice.
To these people, the routine, the pattern is everything. He modified his
pattern quickly and twice. He is living unsure, a little on edge, and this
feeling of out of control messes with the purpose of what he does. These types
of crimes are about power and control. Changing his pattern will leave even him
unsure of where he is going. We don’t want to push him into leaving too soon.
We want him to feel some control again, so he stays close. Taking Michael might
have given the other three girls a reprieve. He’ll be busy with his latest toy,
his latest treasure. We have to ask ourselves when did he come to covet
Michael.”
Valenti watched them cover
Michael apartment with powder checking for prints. The area was investigated,
fibers collected, areas dusted and tested. The walls were photographed, and his
stuff was searched. One of Cordy’s team, Banks found some of Michael’s alien
stuff.
“Sir, we have something
strange here.” Cordy looked at the alien book with symbols, the map of star
charts, and the collection of drawings that Michael did on the different
symbols.
“Mayan history.” The rest
looked up at Valenti in confusion. “Michael was interested in Mayan cultures
and the symbols on their temples. I lent him a copy of ‘Chariots of the Gods’
because he was interested in visitors from outer space, especially since living
in
“Oh.” Cordy looked at the
alien book in interest. “How about this book? It looks metal, but nothing like
I have ever seen.”
“It’s made with a
combination of copper and metal alloys. There is an old abandon copper mine
outside of town. I took Michael and few of the kids out there a while ago. He
collected samples and we smelted them into metal sheets. He made this book as a
special project in school last year for the annual CrashDown party and fair. It
won a prize for originality.” He was praying that she wouldn’t flip too far
into the book and find the etching of the four podsters.
“Neat. That must have been
hard work. I guess he kept it because he was proud of it.”
“Yes.” He almost breathed
in a sharp rush of air when Cordy finally put the book down. The amount of lies
he had told lately was beginning to stick in his throat. He was beginning to
understand just how hard the group’s life had been over the last ten years, and
especially the last year when they were trying to do damage control over being
exposed. Oh boy.
~~~
It was the soothing touch
that drew him from the wall of darkness. He slowly opened his eyes and winced
at the bright light. His head hurt, and he felt heavy, like all his limbs were
weighted down. His brain was racing and confused. He knew things, but was
unable to collect all the thoughts into one conclusive idea. Then he saw her
and his heart sped up.
Maria.
She looked beautiful. She
was wiping his face with a cloth and muttering low sounds of comfort to him. He
could hear a whining noise in his ear that was irritating. He finally realized it was his
own moaning. It was as if his awareness and body were separate entities, and he
couldn’t find a connection. Everything was cloudy.
“It’s okay. Shush, I’ve
got you.” He closed his eyes to enjoy her warm touch on his skin. In the first
time in forever he felt alive again. She was close to him and alive. “Daddy
said that you must not exert yourself, Michael.”
Michael was confused by
the tentative use of his name. He opened his eyes to look deep into her clear
greenish hazel ones. Her eyes were clear and honest, but something was missing.
Maria always had a special look in her eyes for him and him alone. It was
missing, almost like she knew him, but didn’t know him. Before he could speak
her name, the man came.
“Is he awake,
“Just barely. He just
awoke seconds ago. I was so worried that his accident was like mine, that he
wouldn’t remember me.”
“Don’t worry love; you’re
the most unforgettable treasure in the world.” He bent down and kissed her on
the temple before taking a seat on the side of the bed. Taking out a penlight,
he checked Michael’s pupil responses. They were dilated, but evenly so. He
didn’t appear to be concussed, but the drugs were keeping him compliant.
“Michael, you remember
“Yes, I remember her
well.” Michael was rewarded with a brilliant smile from Maria. She was pleased
that he remembered her.
“Dad, I’ll go get him
something to drink.” With a quick smile she was gone. Michael could barely move
his arms and his body felt heavy.
“Where am I?”
“You’re home, son. You
have come home to me and my daughter
“What’s wrong with me? Was
I sick?”
“Yes, but if you take your
medicine you will be all better. Do you remember my daughter, Michael?”
“Yes, she is an angel, my
angel. I love her. She is my world.” The man smiled at the young man like a
prized pupil.
“That is correct. You love
each other, and I’m your adopted father. When you and
“Yes Sir.” Michael quickly
looked to the door hoping for her return. “Father?” Michael paused to watch the
reaction of the older man. His happy look and pleased expression assured him
that he made the correct decision to use the surname.
“Yes, son?”
“When can I marry,
“Soon, son, soon. You’re
almost eighteen and she is still just seventeen. When you marry both of you
will be happy and we will be one very big happy family waiting for my
grandchildren. You do want children with my daughter don’t you?”
“More than anything in the
world. I can see them when I sleep, and they’re all I have ever wanted.”
“What do they look like?”
“Her. They all look like
her.” Michael looked up when Maria reentered the room carrying a glass of cold
liquid. She smiled down at him as she sat on the side of the bed, putting the
glass on the bedside table. Using gentle hands she help him to sit up and
helped him sip the drink. It tasted wrong, and her brow frowned as if she
realized that something was missing. Patting him on the cheek, she quickly left
the room and came back moments later with a small bottle of