Slasherazzi (7 page)

We spent the next several hours canvassing the local area, searching for clues or witnesses…Anything that might give us some indication as to how Fernando had come to be the Slasherazzi’s latest victim. Nothing conclusive had turned up. We managed to trace traffic cameras back to the store where he had been taken hostage, and even then we were no closer to having a suspect.

After leaving the station, I drove home and went straight into the bedroom, ignoring the buzzing of my cell phone. The caller gave up after a minute, plunging the room into silence. I lay sprawled out across the bed and stared up at the off-white ceiling. My recollection of earlier that day was fuzzy around the edges, though certain details remained crystal clear. It was like I’d been asleep the whole time and dreamed up the entire thing.

Only, I knew it wasn’t. Fernando was dead. Gone. The things he’d had to endure before the final blow was dealt…I shuddered and curled up into a ball. I’d seen plenty of gruesome deaths during my time on the force, but this one took things to a whole new level of sadism. How could anyone do those things to another person and not feel revolted? Just seeing the slices of flesh lying next to Fernando’s head was enough to put me off sausages for life.

My stomach churned violently, reminding me I hadn’t eaten since the night before. I’d tried to force a sandwich down at the cafeteria earlier in the day, but I had neither the appetite nor the constitution to finish more than one bite.

The vibrating of my phone cut through my thoughts, and it occurred to me that I should pick up the call, or turn the damned thing off. I reached over, intending to hit the power button when the room fell back into silence. Breathing a sigh of relief, I collapsed back down onto the mattress and continued my staring match with the ceiling.

Soon after, a loud droning carried through the house. I made no move to get up and answer the door. They’d come back another time if it was that important. The buzzing came again, followed by four hard knocks.

Shit, it was Vince. Maybe he’d go away if I ignored him long enough. He knocked again, almost threatening to break the door down with each pound.

Of course, he’d have heard about Fernando. Information had already leaked to the media, and the press was all over the photos they'd received that morning. Captain Blake had made a public statement in the afternoon and confirmed the latest victim was one of our detectives. The whole fucking city had to be aware of it by now.

I pushed myself up with a groan, ambled to the front door and opened it. The porch was empty. I blinked twice to make sure, but nothing changed. I shut the door and turned away.

“Wonders never cease,” I muttered and started back to the bedroom. Never would have imagined Vince could give up so easily. I took a detour to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water. As I shut the refrigerator door, there was a bang from elsewhere in the house. I set the glass down and tiptoed into the hall toward the living room, where I was sure the noise had come from.

Footsteps sounded against the wooden floor, getting louder with each passing second. They stopped only a few yards away. My pulse hammered through the vein in my neck, and I held my breath. I waited with my back to the wall, listening for any sound.

Glancing down and to my left, I cursed under my breath. Those big feet were going to be the death of me one day, sticking out like nobody’s business. I grated my teeth and stepped out. “What the fuck, Vince?”

He smirked and gave a half-assed shrug. “Wanted to see how you were doing. Been trying to call you for ages, and you weren’t answering.” His smile faded, and he lowered his gaze. “With everything that’s been going on, I was worried something might have happened to you.”

The window at the side of the house was wide open, and he held a plastic carrier in one hand. Behind him bits of dirt lay on the floor beneath the window. The edges of his white sneakers were muddied. Had I been in the mood, I might have given him hell for trampling the flowerbed outside and trekking soil into the house. Instead, I sighed and took a step forward until our bodies were almost touching.

“Sorry,” I said, resting my head on his shoulder. “It’s not exactly been an easy day. Just wanted some time alone to process all this.”

Vince placed one hand on the back of my head. “I can’t even imagine. If you want me to leave, just say so.”
I wrapped my arms around his waist and held on tight. The warmth of his body seeped into mine, and I relaxed into him. “Stay. Please.”
He pulled away and lifted the carrier into view. “When was the last time you ate? I have steak and sweet potatoes. Medium-rare, too. Your favorite, right?”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. Vince could always be counted on to remember things like that. The jerk could probably write a whole book on me with all the information he had stored in that head of his.
“Kitchen. Now,” I ordered him.
Vince smiled and led the way. He set the takeout boxes down on the table and motioned for me to sit while he rummaged through the drawers for a steak knife. I opened the nearest box and breathed in the glorious scent of hot meat, my mouth watering in anticipation.
“You know, women would kill to have a man look at them like you’re eyeing that steak right now,” Vince teased.
I narrowed my eyes at him and snatched the utensils from his hand. “Shut up,” I replied, tearing into the thick slab of meat. Juices flowed from the cut, and I licked my lips. “Haven’t had anything at all to eat today.” I shoved the first piece into my mouth and groaned in delight. Being starved for so long made it that much more enjoyable.
“Have you been that busy all day?” Vince asked, arching an eyebrow. “Wait, don’t tell me it was bad enough to affect even your iron stomach.”
I paused chewing and looked down at the table. The crime scene was the last thing I needed to be thinking about while eating. All that dried blood and pieces of flesh.
“Shit, sorry. Probably should have picked a better topic while you’re eating, huh?” Vince said hurriedly. “Hey, do you have any beers?”
I forced the lump of meat down my throat. “Bottom shelf in the fridge.”
Vince opened the door and took out two bottles. After removing the lids, he set one down in front of me. He leaned against the counter and took a large mouthful of his beer.
“You want me to drink on an empty stomach?” I asked. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”
Vince snickered. “That wasn’t my intention, but then again, you are quite amusing after a few drinks. Remember when we first started dating and I took you to that bar over in Ybor?”
Of all the damn nights he could bring up. I snorted and leaned back.
“Who am I kidding?” Vince asked. “I know you don’t remember a thing after that sixth shot of tequila.”
I rubbed at my right temple. The mere thought of that night was enough to give me a headache. I hadn’t been able to touch tequila since without my stomach cramping. “And who was the one practically pouring it down my throat to begin with?”
Vince held up his hands in surrender. “Guilty. It’s a shame you don’t remember much, because that was one hell of a night. I mean, when you got up on the stage to dance to Beyoncé…Dude, that was the funniest shit I’ve ever seen.”
I groaned and shook my head. “Why do you have to torture me like this?”
Vince laughed. “And when the drag queens joined in, too.” He raised one hand up into air and began shaking his hips. “Oh, man. The three of you were grinding together like animals in heat.”
“Stop. Please, just stop,” I said, unable to hold back the chuckle as he continued his mock dance. He did as I asked and sat opposite me, taking another swig of beer.
“We’ll have to do that again sometime. You know, Fonda Cox still asks about you. Wants to know when you’ll be making another appearance.” He smirked, and I grimaced.
“Never again,” I replied, picking up my bottle. I swallowed a small mouthful and sighed. After a long, hot, stressful day, maybe a cold one was just what I needed. I picked up my fork and dug into the mound of sweet potato. My stomach rumbled appreciatively at the offering.
When I had finished my meal—or what I could manage of it, as I hadn’t touched most of the steak after the topic of Fernando had come up—I leaned back in the chair and rubbed my stomach. God, that was just what I needed. Vince hadn’t said another word as he waited for me. He merely smiled and continued drinking. Damn bastard was in one of his considerate moods, and it was times like this that made me wonder if maybe we could make things work. Or perhaps he was plotting my downfall. Sometimes, I couldn’t be certain.
“So what do you want to do for the rest of the night?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Honestly, I was planning on just staying in bed before you showed up.”
“We could still do that,” he replied with a wink and a grin.
Any other time, I would have taken him up on his offer, but right then, I didn’t have the energy for anything more strenuous than walking to the bedroom. Besides, after what happened to Fernando, and with the images still fresh in my mind, I wasn’t sure anything involving our cocks was a good idea.
I couldn’t even begin to imagine the terror Fernando must have experienced while at the mercy of his killer. The thought of losing that particular body part…Shit! I lowered my head and closed my eyes. That was one train of thought not worth following.
“How about a movie then?” Vince asked.
I stood, picked up the takeout boxes, and tossed them in the trash. “Sounds good,” I said, welcoming the distraction. Anything to keep my mind occupied and away from the bad thoughts. “Why don’t you go pick something? I’ll finish cleaning up and grab us another beer.”
“Sure,” Vince said and headed into the living room. I threw the utensils into the sink to clean up later, then slumped against the counter.
Everything almost seemed too normal. Dinner, followed by a movie. It wasn’t what I’d expected after finding my least favorite detective slashed to ribbons and decapitated. Maybe a party would have been more appropriate—anything but the normalcy of curling up on the couch with Vince. I shook my head. That idea was a little too messed up. Besides, there was nothing to celebrate in knowing the killer was still out there, seemingly not giving a shit as to whose wrath he incurred. Civilian or cop, we were nothing more than pieces of soon-to-be-dead meat to him. Any of us could be next.
I could have gone into work. At least then my mind would be kept busy, and it might even bring us a step closer to catching our psycho. Not likely, I admonished myself. What would I do anyway, besides wait for the lab reports to come back? Probably sit there and go over information that I could recite off the top of my head in the hope something new might jump out at me.
“You okay in there?” Vince shouted.
I jerked from my thoughts and stood straight. “Yeah, just coming.”
I opened the fridge, took out two beers, then joined Vince on the couch, the remote clasped firmly in his hands.
“Starting to think maybe the monster under the sink got you,” he quipped.
“Dork,” I shot back, sprawling out along the length of the red-patterned sofa. It was hideous really, but it had been a moving in present from my adopted parents when I bought the house, and so I’d kept it. I’d suspected they’d been looking for an excuse to get rid of it for a while, but it at least had the redeeming quality of being long enough to lie down across, and I could almost sink into the cushions. I set my beer down on the peach carpet and shuffled to the back of the couch, leaving space for Vince. He hit play and lay down in front of me. I draped one arm over him as the opening sequence played.
Vince was silent for much of the film, his gaze caught by the car chases, explosions and gunfire. I heard every word, saw every bit of action unfold, and yet I couldn’t have answered a single question about the movie. My mind was already adrift, lost in a sea of thoughts that had nothing to do with the beautiful actress on screen at that moment and everything to do with mutilated genitals, flowing rivers of blood, and Fernando’s slack-jawed face lying nearly detached from his body.
Vince shuffled into a sitting position and turned to face me. “Are you even listening to me?”
I blinked and tore my gaze away from the still image on the television set, unable to remember when it had been paused. “Sorry,” I replied, sitting up and resting my head in my hands. “Got a lot on my mind.”
He placed a comforting hand on my back and shuffled along the seat until our hips touched. “Sorry. I was hoping I could help take your mind off all this.”
“I know, and I appreciate the effort. I don’t think it’s going to work this time, though. Fuck, some of the stuff I saw today is going to leave mental scars for the rest of my life.”
“Shit,” Vince gasped. “That really does sound bad. Do you want to talk about it?”
I stood quickly, throwing off his hand, and spun on my heel to glare at Vince. My blood boiled, coursing through my veins like fire. “What? So you can have a story to publish tomorrow? I’m not that fucking stupid, Vince.”
His mouth agape, Vince simply stared back at me. Then his features changed. His brow creased, and his lips curled, flashing his teeth. He jumped to his feet, pushing his palms against my chest. I stumbled back and steadied myself before I backed into the armchair.
“Fuck you, Alex,” he shouted. “I came over here because I care about you, that’s all. This has nothing to do with my job.”
“Yeah? Like every other time,” I snapped. “There’s always something with you…some other motive.”
He took a step forward, his sharp gaze cutting through the short distance between us. “Is that what you think? Don’t you trust me?”
“Maybe I don’t.”
Vince lashed out, shoving me into the chair. I stood, but before I could retaliate, he looked away and to the floor.
“Then what’s the point?” he asked. “If you can’t trust me, then why are we still doing this?”
I stopped in my tracks, and the anger I felt diffused slowly. Wasn’t I supposed to be giving him another chance? And there I was, jumping to conclusions. I hung my head. “Vince, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”
“Are you really? I’m tired of all this fighting, Alex. I want to make this work, but how can it if you can’t trust me?”
I moved behind him, wrapped my arms around his chest and nuzzled his neck. “I was an ass, I know that. I’ve just been so on edge with this case and—”
“No,” he interrupted and pulled away from the embrace. He narrowed his eyes at me and clenched his fists. “Don’t go trying to make excuses. You’re not the only one who’s under pressure with this case.”
“Then what do you want from me?”
“I want you to trust me. Talk to me.” He relaxed his body, and his expression softened. “Please, Alex. I don’t need details about the murder, but at least tell me how you’re feeling. I want you to be able to come to me when shit like this happens.”
I nodded and slumped down on the sofa. Vince joined me and placed one hand gently on my knee. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
“There’s so much riding on getting this case solved…And not just my job, people’s lives are at stake, too. I feel like I’m not cut out for this job. Every new body that turns up, it’s because I haven’t caught this guy. Some detective I am. I haven’t been able to protect anybody.”
Vince squeezed my leg. “You’re not alone in this, Alex. I bet you half of the force feels like you do right now. You’re not the only person working this case, right? So don’t go shouldering all the blame yourself.”
His words made sense, though they did little to lift the cloud bearing down on me. I should have had the case solved long before now…before the rest of the department had to get involved, and certainly before the feds were requested to come in and sweep up our mess. And how many more bodies would show up before we finally had our killer?
Still, there was more than just the guilt at knowing people were dying because I hadn’t fulfilled my duty as an officer. Each new body brought a fresh nightmare for me to witness. The mutilations were enough to make me cringe from the start, but at least the first victims hadn’t been alive to experience them. Now he was keeping them alive to torture and humiliate.
What if next time it was even worse? Or someone I cared about? Fernando’s death had shown none of us were safe. He hadn’t been selected at random. No, our killer was far too smart for that. He’d probably known his target well in advance. And if the state of the bodies was any indication, he was going to keep escalating.
“Did you see the pictures?”
Vince nodded. “There are edited versions going into print for tomorrow morning. I’ll tell you one thing, I do not envy your job. How do you even stomach seeing shit like that up close?”
I shrugged. “It never really bothered me before. I’ve seen brains splattered over walls and bodies slashed to death, but in a strange sort of way, the murders made sense. Their killers were angry, looking for revenge, or trying to protect themselves.”
“And the new deaths don’t make sense?”
“Yeah, something like that. Why does he do it that way? I can’t understand, and that unknown makes looking at the victims even worse. But I have to do it, otherwise I might miss something vital.”
“I wouldn’t want to understand what goes on in the head of this psycho,” Vince replied. “He’s got some serious screws loose. That’s for sure.”
I hummed in agreement.
“But seriously,” Vince continued, “this isn’t the time to be doubting yourself. We can’t change the past, but you can do everything in your power to stop this before someone else falls victim. And I know you. You’re smarter than most people out there. If anyone can solve this, it’s you.”
I lay down with my head resting on his lap, and he stroked my hair. With a deep breath, I closed my eyes. “You really think I can?”
“I believe in you, Alex,” he replied. “It sucks, I know, but you’ll find that missing puzzle piece soon enough, and you’ll catch this bastard. When you do, I’ll make sure you end up on the front page headlines.”
I chuckled and opened my mouth to say it was too late. The FBI would be all over the case in a couple of days and they’d probably want the rest of us to have nothing to do with it. I stopped myself before I could blurt out that information. Shit, I was going to have to watch my tongue.
“I hope you’re right,” I said, rubbing the small charm on my bracelet. Just touching it always made me feel better, as though the angel could somehow hear my silent prayers and come down to help guide me.
“You know, I’ve never asked where you got this,” Vince said, reaching down to touch the silver links. “I think I’ve only ever seen you without it once or twice.”
“It was a gift from the woman who looked after me until my parents adopted me,” I said, smiling at the memories that stirred in my mind. “She gave one to all the children when they left, and told us the angel would always look out for us.”