Delta Stevens 2: Storm Shelter (9 page)

When back-up arrived, Delta sent them to the other side of the apartment building, issuing orders on what and what not to do. Ever since she shot her would-be assassin in a warehouse, Delta became the expert in searching and maintaining a perimeter around buildings. Every officer in the city knew of her success against an armed man in a dark warehouse, and her victory was lengendary.

Delta motioned for Jan to cover her while she approached the open door. Entering dark buildings was a greter threat than almost anything else a cop could face. Delta didn’t know if someone was inside, waiting to shoot her. She didn’t know if there was another crime going down and she was just about to walk into the middle of it. She basically knew zero about the situation.

What she did know was that someone had called the police because they believe they heard shots being fired. Shots fired plus an open door leading into a dark building meant trouble.

When Delta reached the door, Jan slid in behind her, taking the low point as she had done at the pharmacy. As Jan and Delta criss-crossed through the interior hallway, Delta flicked on the lights. So far, she did-n’t see anyone. Next, they came to a sparsely furnished dining room area that had a card table for a dining table. there were papers and a fast food bag strewn across it. Looking around the corner of the dining room, Delta saw a man lying half in and half out of the kitchen. God, how she hoped this man wasn’t dead.

Gautiously moving into the kitchen, Delta inhaled deeply and held her breath as she looked down at the pool of blood already coagulating underneath the man. Delta leaned back against the wall and tried to control her gag reflex by inhaling slowly through her mouth.

No matter how many times she looked death in the face, she could never get used to it. Feeling Jan touch her elbow, Delta turned and shook her head. They needed to finish the search of the house before they tended to the victim. Delta shook off her chills and continued with her inspection until she was sure there was no one else in the apartment.

“Dead?” she asked Jan, knowing the answer, but wanting to make sure.

“Very.”

Delta stared down at the lifeless body and shook her head sadly.“Did you make the call?”

Jan nodded as she stepped around the body. “They’re on their way.”

In another half hour, the homocide unit rolled up and eased to a stop before Detective Russ Leonard stepped from the unmarked car.

Seargeant Leonard looked like Danny DeVito, only taller. He combed what was left of his hair across his wildly receding hairline. He wore his too baggy slacks up practically around his thick neck. As he glanced across the room, much like a rat looking for food, Leonard wiped his nose the length of his sleeve.

“Oh, God,” Delta moaned. “Not him. Anyone but him.”

Jan looked out the door to see who Delta was talking about. “Leonard? He’s a good dick.”

Delta sighed as she leaned up against the kitchen counter, careful not to touch anything with her hands. “I know.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

“Problems. Make that plural. When I was in the Academy, Leonard gave a lecture on crime scene protection. At the time, he smoked these awful cigars. Well, when we investigated a mock crime scene, I pointed out that his cigar ash could be misleading if he smoked around the crime scene. I thought my point was brilliant. He thought I was being a smart ass.”

“What did he do?”

“He took off my cap and ground his cigar out in it.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Then he stuck it back on my head.”

Jan chuckled. “don’t tell me you’re still mad.”

Delta waved her off. “Have you ever worked with the guy?”

“No.”

“Then save your guffaws until later. Once you work with him, you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Stevie!” Leonard exclaimed, as if they were the best of friends.

Delta cringed. Two of her ex-lovers called her Stevie. It was sort of cute from them. Coming out of Leonard’s fat mouth, it sounded obscene.

“Jesus Christ, Stevie, can’t you keep a tighter rein on the crackpots on your turf? This is the third one in just over a week. You spendin’too much time at Winchell’s Donut Shop or what?”

Delta turned to Jan, who rolled her eyes and stepped back into the dining room.

“Don’t be an ass, Leonard. A man has died here. Show a little respect, will you?”

Leonard stared down at the corpse. “They seem to be droppin’like the proverbial flies, Stevie. What’s up with that?”

Delta winced at one of Leonard’s many mispronunciations. Shooting a look over to Leonard’s partner, Chuck Connell, Delta shook her head. Connell was the nicer of the two, but he spent most of his time playing audience to Leonard’s “picture this” scenarios whenever he was reconstructing a scene. In a way, Delta felt sorry for Connell. He had to act like he actually liked Leonard.

Delta, however, did not. It wasn’t just that Leonard had made a fool of her in the Academy that fueled her dislike for him. He was one of ther biggest chauvinist pigs she’d ever met. Once, at a Christmas party, Leonard had had a little too much scotch and entertained a group of men with his distorted view of female detectives and police officers. When Delta heard his comment about women cops being physically weaker than male cops, she walked over to him, plucked his cigar from his mouth, and dropped it in his scotch glass.

“Care to test that theory, Detective?” she had said, towering over him. Had it not been for Connie’s quick action to pull Delta from the group, Russ Leonard would have found out the hard way just how wrong he was.

“Leonard, they’re people who are dying, not flies. Try to remember that before you open your mouth.”

“Touchy, touchy. Who pissed in your Cheerios this a.m.?”

Delta shook her head and walked away. “Jackass,” she mumbled to herself, walking over to the crime scene tech, who was dusting a glass for prints. “Coming up with anything, Manny?” Manny Espinosa was one of the best techies Delta had ever met. He was thorough, precise, and knew his stuff.

“Not much. Looks like he bought it from someone he knew. Two glasses with alcohol. This one here is full, probably the killer’s. He was smart enough not to pick it up.”

Delta nodded. “Keep up the good work, Manny.” Delta walked back over to the corpse to find Leonard kneeling over it. “don’t be sore, Stevie,” Leonard said. “I was only jokin’.”

Delta didn’t respond. Instead, she wrote notes on her notepad about the layout of the apartment and the arrangement of the body.

“Looks like your psycho has struck again,” Leonard said, rising and looking up at Delta.

Delta towered over the stump of a man. “I don’t think so.”

This brought a chuckle from Leonard. “Oh, you don’t?”

“Nope. What you have here, Leonard, is another murder. Period. I don’t think it has anything to do with the guy that chucked that star at me over at Omega’s.”

“Sounds like you’re lucky he didn’t give you a new part in your hair.” Leonard put the tip of his pencil to his tongue and jotted down a few notes. “But fear not, Stevie, because I’m gonna get him for you.”

Delta watched, as Manny stepped over to the body. “You done here, Sarge?”

Leonard waved a hand at him, and Manny started taking pictures of the victim.

“Yeah, Stevie, you just leave it up to me and my men. We’ll bring this bastard to his knees before long.”

Delta shook her head. “Not if you insist on connecting this murder to the other.”

Leonard sniffed and stopped writing. “Oh? Jeez, Stevie, if I would have known it was amateur detective night, I would have worn my best suit.”

Connell faked a chuckle.

“I may not have a badge that says I’m a detective, Leonard, but I know evidence when I see it, and this evidence doesn’t point toward my man.”

Folding his arms, Leonard looked amused. “And tell me, Agatha Stevens, just what clues, what hard evidence lies before us that supports your half-baked theory?”

One of the things that made Leonard a good detective was that he looked for hard evidence that was nearly irrefutable in court. He would search until he found that one link, that one tie that would connect a suspect to the scene of the crime.

“Take a good look around you, Leonard. My perp has a thing for ancient weaponry. We’ve already established that as one of his M.O.’s.”

Leonard’s thick eyebrows shot up. “Been reading our reports, have you?”

Delta shrugged the question off. “It’s not important. What is important is the fact that this guy had his head blown off with a large-calibre handgun at point-blank range; that’s not something our walking anachronism is likely to use.”

A wicked grin slid across Leonard’s face. “How can you be so sure, Stevie? The M.O. is still the same. This sicko is killing for pleasure. Just because he decided to use a gun makes no difference. don’t overlook the obvious.”

“And don’t underestimate your opponent, Leonard. Whoever killed this man did so out of anger and vengeance. To put a gun in someone’s face and pull the trigger takes a great deal of hostility.”

“Yeah? So? Our psycho is one angry shitbag. don’t get caught up in all that ancient weaponry crap, Stevie. Look, I’ll tell you one thing about his psychological profile, and that’s that this guy likes to kill. He’s enjoying the game. Maybe he really enjoyed blowing this guy’s face off.”

Delta didn’t think so. If the guy that threw the star at her was enjoying the game, what pleasure would he receive from simply pulling the trigger? It simply didn’t fit.

Leonard walked over to Delta and reached up to put an arm around her. “You’re trying to attach a thinking personality to this kook. You’ll never make detective thinking like that. You have to look at the evidence you’ve been given, Stevie. You can’t work on just hunches alone, and that’s all you have here, a hunch. Trust me. Until I learn otherwise, this killer is the same guy who offed that pharmacist. Period.”

Delta shrugged. “If you link this killing to the others, I guarantee it’s going to take longer to find both murderers.”

“Place a wager on that thought, Stevie?”

Delta shook Leonard’s outstretched hand. “What’ll it be?”

A sly smile spread across Leonard’s face. “Your Mickey Mantel card for my Don Drysdale.”

Delta shook her head. In the Academy, Leonard had overheard her conversation with one of the guys about her collection of baseball cards. He had approached her about buying her Mantel card then, but she had flatly refused. This time she said, “No way. My Mantel for your Mays and Rose cards.”

Leonard thought about it for a minute. “You’re on.” Squeezing Delta’s hand in his, Leonard grinned widely. “I’ve been wanting that Mantel card ever since I heard you had one. This one is going to be a sweet victory.”

Delta smiled. “Not if you continue the investigation the way you’re going. Kiss your Mays and Rose cards goodbye, Leonard.” Turning away, Delta said her goodbyes to the crime unit and joined Jan out by the patrol car.

“Okay, I see your point. He’s a bit on the gross side, but I don’t think that’s why you dislike him so much.”

Delta cast Jan a questioning look. “No? Then why?”

Jan grinned. “You can’t stand him because he’s got a crush on you.”

“A crush? You’ve got to be kidding.” Delta pretended to gag.

“Delta, don’t you see how he looks at you? How he has a little pet name for you? He even took a chance and put his stubby little arm around you. I’m telling you, Leonard has the hots for you.”

Delta shuddered at the thought. “What a disgusting thought.”

“Maybe, but it’s true. Trust me. As a straight woman, I can safely tell you that Detective Russ Leonard has a crush on you.”

“Well, he just better keep his crushes to himself.” Starting the engine, Delta made a mental note to have Connie get the rest of the psych profile Leonard referred to in the apartment.

“Del?”

“Yeah?”

“You sounded awfully sure of your theory in there. Is there something you need to tell me?”

Delta tried pushing the feelings in her gut away, but they lingered like a bad odor. There was something about this case that seemed to have a mysterious hold on her. Her intuition sounded various alarms, and she had the oddest feeling that the killer was watching them, sizing up every move they made. It felt as if someone was standing behind her, testing her, seeing how she reacted.

“It’s just a gut thing. I can’t really explain. About the only thing I know with any assurance is that someone who throws Chinese stars at pursuing cops wouldn’t be so unimaginative as to use a handgun. Our perp has a different motive.”

“So you think this murder is totally unrelated to the one at Troy’s?”

Delta nodded. “There wasn’t a wallet on our corpse back there. He was having, or attempting to have, a drink with someone prior to being shot. I’m willing to bet he knew his killer. I don’t believe Friedman knew his killer. Friedman was stabbed, that guy back there was shot. Serial killers, if that’s what we have, tend to use the same method when killing.”

“That’s pretty slim evidence.”

“I know. But for now, it’s the best I can do.”